Lamott’s advice to her creative writing students, gathered in book form. Written with attitude, but also with heart and kindness; Lamott endorses writing as a kind of therapy, encouraging her students to explore their pasts and their fears, and mine those experiences for inspiration. She also warns students to temper their expectations regarding glamor or fame in publishing. Warm and self-deprecating in tone and very enjoyable to read, but mostly it’s Lamott talking about herself and her experiences, only thinly disguised as advice to new writers.
Category: quick reaction
Realm of Ash, by Tasha Suri
Sequel to Empire of Sand; the first book was good, and this one is even better. Arwa’s sister shook the foundations of the empire in the previous book, and in this one, Arwa is left trying to pick a safe path through the crumbling Empire. Arwa and her sister Mehr are very different people: Mehr rebelled and embraced her status as a low-caste tribesperson, whereas Arwa tried to hide her past and blend in. Like her sister, she finds herself in a position to use her background for the greater good, but her relationship with her heritage is fraught. I loved her journey, and how it illustrated the impact of cultural erasure on the descendants of persecuted peoples.
Bitter, by Akwaeke Emezi
Prequel to the amazing novel Pet, but unfortunately I think it’s not as strong or as focused. Narrator Bitter has survived trauma to find solace in art, but finds it hard to justify being an artist in a world full of injustice, corporate greed, and police brutality, especially when practically all of her friends have joined an implausibly well-organized resistance movement in which teens demonstrate against societal racism. Much of the book is spent on Bitter’s self-doubt; it makes the otherworldly spirits and fast-paced action that dominate the last quarter of the book seem jarring. Lots of really piercing commentary on social injustice and human nature, but unfortunately the book doesn’t come together smoothly for me.
The Cloud Roads, by Martha Wells
It’s been awhile since I read a fantasy world this fearlessly inventive. Moon can shapeshift into something with scales, wings, and talons, but no one else in the village can, so he hides it. However, when he’s banished and encounters his own species, he finds himself a misfit among them as well. Pretty standard trope, but before you know it you’re drawn deep into an incredibly detailed and alien ecology and culture, where very different rules apply and like Moon you have to figure out how things fit together. Moon is a very relatable hero, someone who hates bullies but also hates fights, who just wants to be left alone but also needs other people. Like Murderbot (Wells’ other hero that I’ve read), he prefers to process his emotions quietly, on his own, rather than talk to anyone about them, and as his history unspools you come to understand why. Great character work alongside really cool worldbuilding.
Point of Hopes, by Melissa Scott and Lisa A. Barnett
I think I got this off a list of LGBT-friendly fantasy novels, but if the two leads show any kind of romantic interest in one another… it’s not in this book. It’s not even a slow burn love story, but more of a slow burn friendship story growing out of mutual respect. Policeman (or “pointsman”) Rathe is trying to investigate a spate of missing children across the city, while retired soldier Eslingen is just trying to find a job under trying circumstances. The mystery is high stakes but low urgency; it feels like the authors’ focus is more on establishing the world and its magical timekeeping structure, rather than actually chasing down the criminals. The plot doesn’t pick up until the last quarter or so of the book, after all kinds of unnecessary fiddling around by the main characters.
The House of Shattered Wings, by Aliette de Bodard
One line summary: fallen angel turf wars in war-torn Paris. We start with an angel literally falling from heaven, reentry burning up her feathers, the landing breaking her bones; then we shift to the viewpoint of street gangs hurrying to harvest her body parts for magic; then abrupt shift again to another fallen angel, one who heads up one of the Houses of fallen angels and gifted humans which exist in a tense standoff with other similar Houses. The book is heavily atmospheric, with gorgeous passages lingering on the postwar ruin of Paris and the otherworldly beauty of the angels; unfortunately, the plot is confusing and opaque, and the constant viewpoint shifts don’t help. The main character is Phillippe, a former conscript from Vietnam whose powers came from the Jade Emperor; he unwillingly aids the angels in figuring out a murder whose repercussions threaten to bring down one of the main Houses (and also wraps in figures from Greek myth, because why not). I think the major weakness in this book is the lack of character development; de Bodard creates some beautiful characters (one might say too many) but their personalities are static, grating off one another in the same way throughout the entire book. In the end, even though literally earthshaking events have taken place, you don’t really get the feeling that anything has really changed.
Pandora’s Jar: Women in the Greek Myths, by Natalie Haynes
Incredibly enjoyable deep dive into Greek mythology, with the overtly stated goal of returning women to the fore. As the Greek myths have passed down to us filtered through the eyes of generations of male Western classicists, female characters like Pandora, Helen, Clytemnestra, and Medea have been reduced to paper thin one-liners: disobedient child, mute beauty, bad wife, bad mother. Meanwhile the men get to be the stars, with the women little more than character development notes in their journeys. Haynes brings an indignantly feminist viewpoint and a wealth of knowledge of the original sources, quoting Euripides as well as other playwrights and poets to mine out meaning and depth for the female characters that had gotten lost (one might even say deliberately papered-over) along the way.
Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century, by Kim Fu
The first short story of this collection just crushed me. “Pre-Simulation Consultation XF007867” is about a person who recently lost their mother and just wants to see them again in a simulation. Unfortunately, company policy is to not show clients dead people, lest they get addicted to the experience and confuse reality with fantasy. It’s all in dialogue and the tone is handled brilliantly. The rest of the stories were perfectly good, with themes of normalcy shading to insidious creepiness with societal commentary on the side, but in my opinion none of them matched the first one for sheer punch. Still, a really impressive collection overall; will definitely be keeping an eye out for other works by Fu.
The Kaiju Preservation Society, by John Scalzi
This is not a subtle book. All of the heroes (and they are pretty interchangeable) are smart, snarky, and capable; the villain is unapologetically amoral and can be seen coming a mile away. Narrator Jamie, laid off from a food delivery gig during the Covid-19 pandemic, is offered the chance to work with an “animal rights organization” and snaps it up. Turns out the animals being protected are kaiju, in a parallel dimension accessible with the onset of nuclear power. Scalzi knows what he’s doing; the writing is smooth, the story moves well, and the dialogue is snappy. The monstrous kaiju and the other inhabitants of their crazy jungle biome are also lushly and enjoyably described. Nothing deep here, but solid entertainment.
Blackcurrant Fool, by Victoria Goddard
Book 4 of Greenwing and Dart; how silly I was to think that all of Jemis Greenwing’s problems were resolved in the previous book. He and Dart travel to a bigger city, where corruption simmers beneath the surface and opposing groups jockey for power; all they want is to do their business and be gone, but Jemis’ vindictive ex-girlfriend from university has gained quite a position of influence in the city and isn’t as interested in putting the past behind her. They find themselves entangled in a tricky situation where Jemis’ doctoral dissertation on architectural poetry, and his vulnerability to a dangerous drug, merge to move the story in unexpectedly poignant and urgent ways. I loved this but the plot definitely took an interesting turn towards the end (and there are still so many unanswered questions about the city). I’ve been trying to parcel out the Greenwing and Dart books slowly, so as to savor them, but it’s going to be hard to wait an entire month before I pull up the next one.