Category: Reading

Last year, when I had a subscription to MasterClass, I took several classes relating to writing (not surprising, really), including N. K. Jemisin’s class teaching fantasy and science fiction writing. When we stopped at a bookstore on our Florida trip, I stumbled onto her anthology, How Long ‘Til Black Future Month?.

Both in the MasterClass and introduction to her anthology, Jemisin emphasizes how much representation matters. Science fiction and fantasy as genres are historically white, male-dominated, and heteronormative (that’s a link to the definition) and Jemisin managed to offend some parts of fandom by writing characters that didn’t fall into those categories. You can assume at this point that I’m either rubbing two fingers together, playing the world’s smallest violin in mock sympathy for them, or bouncing those same two fingers in front of my eye for a tiny guy jumping up and down shouting “I give a shit.” I have no patience for toxic fandom or gatekeeping.

Frankly, it’s their loss if they choose not to read her work. I thoroughly enjoyed every story in this anthology. Flipping through it, a couple made me smile just glancing at them again. “Red Dirt Witch,” for example, about a witch (duh, it’s in the title) in the civil rights era and her daughter who sees into the future, including a glimpse of a black man in the White House. “The Effluent Engine” has a steampunk feel, with blatant racism and sexism that was unfortunately appropriate in nineteenth century New Orleans, and turns into a queer romance story. “The Evaluators” follows a different writing style of message exchanges and reviewed transcripts as humanity rushes in to doom itself. I could keep going, but really, go find yourself a copy and enjoy a good read.

It feels like I just read The Eight Mile Suspended Carnival by Rebecca Kuder, but according to my notes, but according to my notes, I read it last summer. Isn’t it amazing how time flies by? Regardless, this was a delightful read. This review was originally published in the September 15, 2021 issue of Booklist.

At the opening of Rebecca Kuder’s The Eight Mile Suspended Carnival, an injured and amnesiac young woman is found after a tornado sweeps through the area. Mim is immediately adopted and named by the carnival’s curious inhabitants. She discovers a paranormal element to the carnival, between odd creatures and a fortune teller who can actually see people’s futures, and finds that she experiences people’s memories as they’re remembering them. Mim’s adventure in mental, emotional, and sexual self-discovery, along with her special ability, sets her squarely between the carnival boss and a man working at the “death pill factory” – the carnies’ term for the weapons factory across the river. There is a hidden depth to each character, experienced as Mim delves into their memories, providing more than is usually available from a single character’s perspective. The surprising plot twists are accented by vividly descriptive, whimsical writing, where everything from the people to the carnival’s strange animals and even the inanimate objects have memories and feelings, all seen through Mim’s exploratory and introspective gaze. This is a fabulously creative story with just a touch of the paranormal that keeps readers guessing as to where it’s going.

I have several things I’d like to share about Wish You Were Here, a recent novel by Jodi Picoult. Unfortunately, some of those are spoilers that are better suited for a book club discussion, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it for anybody.

The premise of the story is that Diana O’Toole and her boyfriend, Finn, are supposed to leave for a once-in-a-lifetime trip to the Galápagos just as the Covid pandemic is picking up. Finn, a surgical resident in New York City, makes the difficult decision to stay behind, but encourages Diana to go without him. Diana immediately encounters problems: her luggage gets lost, there’s barely functioning Wi-Fi on Isabela Island, her Spanish is minimal (she was counting on Finn for that), and to top it off, the island and her hotel close as she arrives. Stranded until the island’s quarantine lifts, she finds herself rescued by a woman who introduces herself as “abuela” (grandmother) and develops a friendship with her family.

The intermittent Wi-Fi connection allows the occasional e-mail from Finn to get through, detailing all the weirdness and stress that we heard about hospitals experiencing in the news in the early days – and now, with the Omicron surge – of this pandemic. The isolation allows Diana to rediscover herself and explore the beautiful island she’s stranded on. Picoult perfectly captures both the isolation and the terrifying effects of Covid on our lives, yet somehow does it in an uplifting way.

This was a fairly recent review, published in the May 1, 2021 issue of Booklist. I appreciated the reimagining of fairy tales in this story, the first in the Wilderwood series, and am looking forward to seeing which other fairy tales Whitten pulls into the series.

Red’s tragic destiny kicks off Hannah Whitten’s debut novel, For the Wolf, as she prepares to enter the Wilderwood. Second daughters of the royal family are expected to sacrifice themselves to the Wolf when they turn twenty. Red arrives haggard, attacked by the forest itself, at a castle, discovering that the famed Wolf is actually a man, as the fairy tale suddenly transitions from Little Red Riding Hood to Beauty and the Beast. The Wolf’s attempts to contain her to the castle are a guilt-ridden, Herculean effort to shelter her from the woods; he failed to protect the previous second daughters. But Red’s magic makes her a powerful ally as he struggles to repair the woods, preventing the arrival of dark creatures from the Shadowlands. They are hampered by Red’s sister, Neve, and her betrothed, unsuspecting accomplices of an evil priestess seeking to release the Five Kings, mistakenly believed to be gods, from the Shadowlands. Whitten reaches a satisfying, yet unexpected, conclusion while setting up the next book in the Wilderwood series.

Every so often, I look back at the books I’ve reviewed and am surprised at some of the reviews I’ve forgotten to share here. This review of 10,000 Bones by Joe Ollinger was originally published in the February 1, 2019 issue of Booklist. Yes, really, more than 2 years ago. 10,000 Bones is such an easy read, focusing on the character development and culture with light glimpses at the science, I’m considering re-reading it in the near future.

A couple centuries in the future, in 10,000 Bones, Joe Ollinger has spread humanity across the far reaches of the galaxy, colonizing a dozen habitable planets. This particular planet, Brink has minimal calcium, so the government declared it to be the official currency. This has led to other governments suppressing calcium shipments in order to maintain favorable exchange rates, illnesses relating to calcium deficiencies, and a government agency responsible for finding black market calcium and recovering it. Taryn Dare is a Collections Agent, collecting a bonus based on the weight of the illegally circulated calcium she recovers, as seen in her opening salvo when she chases down a busboy who is stealing chicken bones from his work. Bones are processed by genetically engineered chalk weevils that extract the calcium. Not surprisingly, there’s a black market for human remains as well, and a simple corpse recovery turns into Taryn’s biggest case yet. Taryn teams up with a Commerce Board auditor who’s investigating a calcium shortfall in the system, uncovering a vast conspiracy that places both of their lives in danger.