Disorientation, by Elaine Hsieh Chou

Oh man if you thought Yellowface was a vicious takedown of racism in publishing, wait until you read Disorientation, which does the same thing to academics but multiplies it by ten. The main character, Ingrid Yang, is in the middle of a dissertation she hates, a deep dive into the works of famous poet Xiao-Wen Chou. One day, a chance find in the archives sends her into a deep dive into Chou’s history and a bombshell of a discovery that upends everything Ingrid thinks she knows, including about her own conception of herself, her race, and her relationships. Neurotic, self-doubting Ingrid is contrasted against her confident best friend Eunice Kim, as well as her rage-filled rival Vivian Vo; the way the three women choose to conceive of, and express, their Asian-Americanness provides an undercurrent of identity exploration to the race-related ripples caused in the larger society around them by Ingrid’s discovery. The satire in this book is incredibly heavy-handed but the zingers keep landing, so you keep reading.

The Storyteller, by Dave Grohl

Came for the rock’n’roll stories from an artist whose music I enjoy; stayed for the self-deprecating humor, unashamed fanboying, and poignant, heartfelt stories from a man who never stopped being grateful for the improbable delights in his life. Grohl grew up in northern Virginia, so I was able to identify both with his childhood memories of the DC area as well as his feelings of recognition and homecoming every time he returned. I particularly liked listening to him narrate the audiobook; his enjoyment of storytelling was palpable and a delight to the listener.

A Molecule Away from Madness: Tales of the Hijacked Brain, by Sara Manning Peskin

Through a selection of case studies written like medical mysteries, neurologist Peskin illustrates the terrifying effects of the tiniest changes: from the gene-directed protein synthesis that results in Huntington’s chorea, to a woman whose own immune system flooded her brain with hallucinogens, to a patient whose grip on reality was threatened by what turned out to be a simple vitamin deficiency, this book left me amazed both at the delicate balance our bodies must tread to maintain our brains.

Witch King, by Martha Wells

The best thing about Martha Wells’ narrators is that their general exasperation with everything makes them immediately relatable, no matter how weird their selves and circumstances… which is good, because the reader is otherwise thrown straight into a complicated sociopolitical fantasy structure and magic system with absolutely no explanations. This book’s viewpoint character, Kai, is a demon who possesses the bodies of dying humans, and whose closest friends are powerful witches and warriors — useful because they seem to have some very terrifying enemies as well. Through adventure and flashback, Wells builds a portrait of how Kai and his friends were brought together, and how they became instrumental in the formation of the empire’s current political balance. Most of the plot threads are tied together neatly at the end, but it also feels like Wells might be doing some worldbuilding in preparation for future adventures.

Equal Partners, by Kate Mangino

The subtitle for this book is “Improving Gender Equality at Home,” and addresses the imbalance in household gender roles created by harmful social norms. The book doesn’t just lay out examples and statistics, but gently points out familiar social behaviors that can actually perpetuate the problem. Each chapter also offers guided discussion topics and thought exercises to help readers become aware of their own stances and provide avenues for improvement, if it is desired. The book is carefully written to address as wide a spectrum of the modern family as possible, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, generation, and family structure. Even though I consider myself fairly educated and aware of these issues, I still found myself taking many notes on how to be a more equal parent and a more equality-focused person in conversation. Gender norms are deep-seated and addressing them is difficult, but this book provides an informative and understanding base from which to make a start.

The Devourers, by Indra Das

South Asian speculative fiction, though it also touches on Nordic and other shapeshifter myths. Narrator Alok Mukherjee is a history professor who meets a mysterious figure who claims to be a half-werewolf; fascinated, Alok agrees to record the stranger’s stories, some oral and some written on human skin. As the stranger’s tale unfolds and Alok is drawn further into the fantastically violent and turbulent history, the relationship between the two of them deepens as well. I liked how the story wove together the mythologies of different cultures, and I also enjoyed how Das took time to develop Alok’s character instead of having him be a passive listener to a story far more interesting than his own life.

Translation State, by Ann Leckie

Set in Leckie’s Radch universe, this starts out as a missing-persons mystery and ends with an impassioned argument over one’s right to determine one’s own destiny. I love how Leckie uses truly inventive alien biologies and philosophies to investigate very human questions of identity, self-determination, and found family. Slow start, tense finish, great read.

Trailer Park Trickster, by David R. Slayton

Book #2 featuring Adam Binder, the queer warlock from a trailer park who just can’t stop saving people (even those who might not deserve saving). This one has him returning to his roots and investigating the increasingly creepy foundations of his family life; meanwhile, his love interest Vicente finds himself navigating dangerous elven politics. I liked the book in general but didn’t like the ongoing trope of “lovers are too busy with mortal peril to discuss their relationship, therefore the angst will continue” which looks like it’ll continue into the third book. Sit down and talk to one another, gentlemen, it’s healthier in the long run.

City of Last Chances, by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Ilmar is a city at the edge of the Palleseen empire, and one conquered in name but perhaps not in spirit; it is full of restless natives, bitter refugees, starry-eyed students, and ruthless criminals, and also sits on the edge of a haunted magical forest, last resort for the desperate. Tchaikovsky assembles a cast of archetypes and then proceeds to make them into whole characters that grate on one another’s edges and force one another into growth, and sets it against a background of cultural repression and inevitable rebellion. Fascinating read.

Yellowface, by R.F. Kuang

When star author Athena Liu dies suddenly, June Hayward pockets her latest manuscript, about Chinese laborers, and then rewrites it and releases it under the name “Juniper Song” (her first and middle names). When the book becomes a smash success, June is accused of misleading people into thinking she might have Chinese ancestry, and finds herself haunted by Athena’s ghost wherever she turns. The book raises questions about racism in the publishing industry, diversity as performance, and ownership in art, but immerses it all in June’s inescapable trainwreck of an unreliable first-person narrative. There is barely a single likeable character in this book but it moves along incredibly well.