Nanoreviews: Tsalmoth, The Entropy of Loss, High Times in the Low Parliament

Tsalmoth, by Steven Brust [Tor 2023]

Tsalmoth is the sixteenth (of a purported nineteen) novel in the Vlad Taltos and returns the reader back to a happier time when Vlad is soon to marry his love, Cawti - who long time readers will remember as Vlad’s wife and ex-wife in term. Spoilers, I suppose, but this is the sort of series where we don’t really know when a particular book is going to be set in the chronology until we get there and put the pieces together. This one is earlier, from what I can sort out.

I wonder, is this the first time we really get to learn who Vlad is telling these stories to? I’m not sure if that’s been a point of contention or not, but it’s been at least a point of curiosity. Every book has a narrator but Vlad is actively telling these stories and he is telling them to *someone*. Now we know who. We perhaps still don’t know why.

Right. The book. Tsalmoth starts with the idea that someone owes Vlad money (he’s a low level crime boss and assassin, you see) and his attempt to collect gets Vlad more and more involved in something really big and beyond the scope of where Vlad should be operating - except it’s not unusual for Vlad to operate above his station in life. It’s part of his charm, and the charm of the series.

Listen, you can probably start with Tsalmoth just fine. So many of the events of the series haven’t happened yet so new readers aren’t going to miss anything - and I’ve already told you that Vlad and Cawti do get married (the wedding planning is an interstitial for this book) and then get unmarried of sorts, so the main thing that would be missed is the heart of the emotional resonance - which is a loss, to be sure. The series has a lot of ups and downs and the relationship is perhaps never the main story of a particular book but it is one of the most important developments that runs through the whole thing.

Steven Brust is generally firing on all cylinders with his Vlad Taltos series and we are inching our way towards a conclusion that we can’t see - because this isn’t that sort of series - but each step of the way, whether backwards or forwards, is absolutely worth taking. That happier time (minus a gut punch late in the book) is refreshing for the long time reader.

-Reviewed by Joe  

The Entropy of Loss by Stewart Hotston [NewCon Press, 2022]

The Entropy of Loss follows scientist Sarah Shannon as she navigates both the impending loss of her terminally ill wife Rhona, her feelings about her affair with a colleague, and the possibility that her work modelling black holes might have triggered a first contact situation. It's a novella sectioned up into the stages of grief, and one very concerned with Shannon's own emotional responses to all these events that each alone would be immense, but together feel nearly insurmountable.

The novella's strength is, for the most part, in its prose, and in how it diverts from typical narratives around a first contact situation. Sarah is not an action movie scientist-protagonist, deferred to and given all the facts of the situation, allowed to dominate the agency of the encounter. Instead, she - and thus we - are kept in the dark about a lot of the logistics of the situation, in a way that feels extremely realistic.

It also benefits from how closely it attends to Sarah's emotions. She's a complex woman, dealing with complex problems, who manages the tricky contradiction of loving her wife deeply and painfully, while also having an affair with a younger woman at work. There's a lot of pain and sadness in the book, and Hotston has managed it relatively well, dwelling in the grief from the perspective of the griever. What it falls down on a little in this is that Rhona is... incredibly forgiving. Saintly, almost. And it somewhat undermines the complexity of Sarah's perspective to have that external validation so freely given.

There's also quite a high volume of maths/programming for the shortness of the novella, and so there are moments in the early part of the story where things feel a little bogged down, dwelling on those necessary details of exposition rather than letting us move along at any sort of pace.

That early part also struggles a little under the weight of some rather clunky similes that audibly clang out of the rest of the - otherwise really much better than the average SF story - prose.

All in all, it's an SF story that tackles a well known trope - first contact - through a much less well-worn lens of grief, and while it has its flaws, and that deep, inescapable sadness may not be for everyone, it is doing something interesting with its ideas and its form, and is a worthwhile read for that.

-Reviewed by Roseanna

High Times in the Low Parliament, by Kelly Robson [Tordotcom Publishing, 2022]

Somehow, I missed the marketing of this book as "lesbian stoner fantasy" until after reading it, but as cutesy one-liners go this is a great description of the strange yet delightful vibes that Robson brings to this novella. At its heart is Lana, a scribe from Aldgate whose life revolves around alcohol and pretty women - until one of her paramours tricks her into delivering a message that gets her out of parliamentary scribe duties, and the fairy responsible ends up sending her instead. As if enforced labour wasn't bad enough, said parliament (which is sort of like if the European Parliament stooped to Westminster standards of behaviour and decided not to use interpreters and speak past each other all the time) is about to be flooded by the fairies who steward it, as punishment for failing to agree on anything.

The political setting is fun, and it builds on some impeccable vibes - badly behaved parliaments are an underexplored institution in fantasy, and putting one in an all-female setting is particularly entertaining - but they very much play second fiddle to the relationships between Lana, her fairy friend Bugbite, and Eloquentia the parliamentarian she develops an infatuation with. Lana and Bugbite's relationship mostly grows over their use of various substances, and Lana's interest in the proceedings around her is mostly driven by self-preservation rather than a genuine interest in the political agenda, but there's something genuinely endearing about the pair of them that's hard not to root for. That goes double as Lana's interest in Eloquentia morphs from "pathetically horny" into a more well-rounded admiration and respect. On the whole, High Times in the Low Parliament didn't blow my mind, but it did have me going "you're doing great, sweetie" at its protagonist as she wandered around her world's various messes, and sometimes that's just the kind of story you need.

-Reviewed by Adri


Joe Sherry, Senior Editor at Nerds of a Feather, Hugo Award Winner. Minnesotan. He / Him

Roseanna Pendlebury, the humble servant of a very loud cat. @chloroform_tea

Adri Joy, Nerds of a Feather senior editor, dog owner, aspiring mermaid, having an increasingly weird time about her own biography

Microreview [Novella]: High Times in the Low Parliament by Kelly Robson

 Sometimes answers are overrated, and vibes are all you need. That’s definitely true of High Times in the Low Parliament, where a weird setting and eccentric interpersonal drama vastly overshadow the plot – and to great effect.

According to the blurb, High Times in the Low Parliament is the story of Lana, a scribe from Aldgate, forced into service in the Low Parliament at a time of crisis, where continued hung votes may risk a return to endless war, and the fatal flooding of parliament itself. There, along with some unlikely friends, she must do what she can to prevent such a fate.

According to the author, it’s a “lesbian stoner buddy comedy”.

Both are very much true, but neither fully capture the compelling strangeness of it all.

At the start of the story, it does feel like a prosaic tale of a person from a humble background going off into a dangerous situation where they may end up changing the world. But as things progress, as more and more details of world-building, of the situation Lana is in, of the fairies and the politics and parliament and all that’s afoot become more apparent, the further we stray from anything so mundane as a traditional narrative. By the end, the story has unmoored itself completely from the reader’s expectations, and become something else entirely.

Parliament is revealed to be a place of driftingly hallucinogenic strangeness, peopled by tired scribes, argumentative deputies from a variety of European locations and a plethora of disgruntled fairies, all of whom are caught up on the issue of the frequent hung parliaments. It is revealed early on that if parliament continues as it has been, the fairies will unleash the sea to drown the humans failing to reach agreement, leaving themselves as the only ones alive in the aftermath. But why is that so critical? We see hints, and fairies here and there reveal their fears about what humans could do, along with references back to an old agreement that they’re keeping humanity to. But this is a parliament – and a story – far more inward than outward focussing. Why does it truly matter what happens here? What are the real-world ramifications? How does what the deputies argue for or against actually impact people outside of parliament (or does it at all)? These are not questions Robson has concerned the narrative with beyond the odd wisps here and there in passing.

But nor is she concerned with giving us a deeply rooted world, a clear picture of this strange Angland – a distorted mirror on English history. Again, we see hints here and there, or increasingly meaningful absences (where are the men? Are there any men? Wait, babies come from where?), but again, answers are not forthcoming. The questions merely hang in the background, with clues only adding to the layers of mystery and confusion. The more you learn, the more you wonder. Is this an alternate timeline, split off after some critical, possibly fairy-fuelled, event? Is this a complete rewrite of history, are the changes meant to simply be facets of the world? Is this meant to be a critique of the various “what if women were in power” stories that crop up frequently in SFF? Is this about Brexit? Are we just mocking politics as a process? Critiquing human nature in all its fractiousness? There are no answers here.

So what is there instead? For a start, there are characters. Lana Baker, the protagonist scribe, is a gloriously happy-go-lucky chancer, eager to flirt with pretty much any woman – human or fairy – who crosses her path, and determined to find joy in her life despite reality and circumstances conspiring against her. Her persistent flattery of literally everything that moves is strangely endearing, precisely because it is without any sort of selectivity, and because it seems at all times to be entirely sincere. There is very little guile to Lana, nor planning, plotting or thoughts beyond the present. She lives in the now, fuelled by drink and mood-altering yeast, and is so entirely content with this state of affairs, it’s hard not to be charmed by her along with everyone else.

The cast of secondary characters are all viewed through the lens of Lana’s jollity and hedonism, but we get occasional hints of their interiority by their interactions with each other, little glimpses of what this world might look like at a step removed from Lana. Bugbite, the moody overseer of the scribes, slowly warms to Lana’s charms, and reveals herself to be an outcast among her fellow fairies, desperate for companionship but so overcome with concern for the impending doom of parliament she can’t help but take her agitation out on her scribal charges. Eloquentia, a French deputy of the house, meanwhile seems distant and aloof, her concerns about the goings on of politics completely divorced from Lana’s focusses on life and joy and comfort and romance, but her sharpness and wit comes through in snippets, in her observations of Bugbite’s behaviour and Lana’s approaches. We see enough of them to know both would approach – and have – their problems in a totally different way to the progression of the story, but Lana steamrollers everything around her, whether simply because the story is told from her perspective or because she truly does pummel reality around her to behave as she wants it to, and so we can only theorise about who the other characters would be without her influence.

In some ways the story feels a little like what would happen if Tamsyn Muir’s Coronabeth Tridentarius got a novel told from her own perspective – a sheer force of cheerful optimism banging at the doors of the narrative until it gives up and lets her have her own way. Lana has that same solidity of belief in the way the world should be, she hammers it into shape as the story progresses, seemingly without even trying all that hard.

The other thing the story has – and in absolute spades – is vibes. Atmosphere. That weirdness and nonsensical ruleset that you don’t know until you read the tale (and then have somehow internalised and make a peculiar sense) that proper fairytales have. Why are things like this? Not a question anyone cares to answer. But by the end, it sort of, maybe, kind of makes sense? If you look at it side on. It feels right, even if the mysteries are endless and the logic somewhat ungraspable. And that feeling, that charming oddness, is what really drives things. It’s what sucked me in and kept me reading, and will, I suspect, be my abiding memory of the book in 12 months’ time.

But a huge part of the atmosphere is built on the foundation of no answers. This is not a book for people who need their magic spelled out, the rules of their worlds carefully delimited. It is a book that rewards coming in with an open mind, and a willingness to roll with everything it throws at you. Because if you can? The lingering questions are a huge part of the fun. I am thoroughly enjoying sitting here and wondering exactly how everything worked, how things came to be and why and what, and knowing that I won’t get any answers to any of it. It is a sort of delicious ignorance that fuels imagination, rather than the frustrating lack of answers.

That High Times in the Low Parliament restricts itself to novella length is a blessing – its strangeness and absolute commitment to answering none of its own questions are glorious at this length, but I feel like a novel length would start demanding more sense, more clarity than are available at present, and a great deal of the story’s charm would be lost in getting those answers. A novella gives it the space it needs to be precisely itself, no more and no less. And what that is is delightful, if you’ve a mind to meet it there.

--

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 7/10 

Bonuses: +1 impeccable vibes

Penalties: -1 would have been enjoyable to see a little more of the secondary characters

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Reference:  Kelly Robson, High Times in the Low Parliament [Tordotcom, 2022]

POSTED BY: Roseanna Pendlebury, the humble servant of a very loud cat. @chloroform_tea

Reading the Hugos: Novella

Welcome back to Reading the Hugos: 2019 Edition! Today we're going to take a look at the stories up for Best Novella.

For those keeping score at home, three of the finalists were on my nominating ballot (Beneath the Sugar Sky, The Black God's Drums, Gods Monsters and the Lucky Peach).

It is also worth noting that once again this category is packed full of stories from Tor.com Publishing, which is both fine if taken in the abstract and troubling when considered as part of a trend. This year, like last year, five of the six finalists published by Tor.com Publishing. Two years ago Tor.com had four of the six finalists. It is only three years ago, in 2016, that Tor.com only managed two of the five finalists, but they had also only just launched their novella line the previous fall and had fewer eligible titles.

The good news is that Tor.com Publishing puts out a LOT of excellent fiction with their dedicated novella line (with the occasional novel and novelette thrown in) and because of Tor's prominence in the field, their reach, and their reputation - the work is easy to discover. The bad news is that I can't see how this sort of publisher dominance is a good thing for the health of the category or the field. We are beginning to see the same category dominance with the Nebula and World Fantasy Awards. There are other publishers putting out high quality novellas (Subterranean, Tachyon, and PS are three significant publishers that come to mind), but it's a harder length of story to place. I've said this before, but I'd like to see a wider variety of publishers make the short list in coming years. Of course, I'm guilty of the same because I read most of what Tor.com Publishing puts out each year because it is easy to get and the quality is high.

On to the finalists!


Artificial Condition, by Martha Wells (Tor.com Publishing)
Beneath the Sugar Sky, by Seanan McGuire (Tor.com Publishing)
Binti: The Night Masquerade, by Nnedi Okorafor (Tor.com Publishing)
The Black God’s Drums, by P. Djèlí Clark (Tor.com Publishing)
Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach, by Kelly Robson (Tor.com Publishing)
The Tea Master and the Detective, by Aliette de Bodard (Subterranean Press / JABberwocky Literary Agency)

The Tea Master and the Detective: It's funny how memory works compared against what I've actually written about a particular story. In this case, my memory says that The Tea Master and the Detective was not that remarkable and I was continually surprised at the praise I saw lobbed at this novella. Then, I check to see if anyone wrote about The Tea Master and the Detective for Nerds of a Feather and I find out that I did, and that I liked it.

My review: "The Mindships of de Bodard's Xuya universe remind me somewhat of Anne McCaffrey's Brain ships, which is not so much a point as a random observation. The Tea Master and the Detective is a murder mystery with a sentient ship and a prickly detective uneasily working together to figure out how a body abandoned in deep space was killed. The novella is far better than my description. The excellence here is in the interplay between The Shadow Child and Long Chau and their characterization, development, and backgrounds."

The scoring on the review did not suggest The Tea Master and the Detective was among the best of the best, but it did tell me that the experience of reading Aliette de Bodard's story was stronger than how it subsequently lived in my memory. Regardless of which is more true, it is not the strongest of this year's finalists for Best Novella. (my review)

Artificial Condition: I do occasionally wonder about the occasional tendency to not love subsequent volumes in a series as much as the first. It's not something that fully holds up as a concept, Seanan McGuire in this very categories puts the lie to the concept - as does any number of other series. But it feels more common to build all the excitement about the first book and then merely appreciate and enjoy the second, third, and fourth books.

That's my not-a-problem with Artificial Condition, which is simply that it isn't All Systems Red (winner of the Hugo and Nebula Award) and while I thoroughly enjoyed Artificial Condition, it didn't reach the heights in my imagination as All Systems Red did and in that way, it suffers a bit in comparison. That's not fair, and a four star reaction is only a disappointment when compared to a five star response.

I do expect to see The Murderbot Diaries on the Hugo ballot in 2021 following the publication of a full length novel next year, and perhaps that is where Murderbot truly shines - not in the discrete entry of a single story but as the wider arc of Muderbot's story. I do also recommend Adri's essay on the first three Murderbot novellas as a stronger bit of counterpoint to how the overall journey is so affecting.

Binti: The Night Masquerade: At the point I am writing this, I could easily flip the placement of Binti: The Night Masquerade with that of Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach. The Night Masquerade is the conclusion of the Binti trilogy, with Binti back home in Namibia and trying to rescue her family and stop a war.

It is difficult for me to discuss The Night Masquerade without looking at the Binti trilogy as a whole because its success here is more than in part in how good of a job Nnedi Okorafor did in wrapping up Binti's story arc. That it was never quite the story I expected after the first book did not lessen the excellence and the raw emotion of The Night Masquerade. It's a damn good story with heart.

Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach: Everything I had to say about Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach last year still stands. This is a spectacular story: "This story is cool as hell. It's set in an ecologically wrecked future where humanity is only just beginning to emerge and re-terraform our planet back into something hospitable. That by itself would be enough to get me interested, but add in some time travel and fantastic characters and ooh, damn, Kelly Robson tells one hell of a story. It's a novella that feels far bigger than it is and even then, I wished for at least one hundred more pages despite the story ending perfectly. I wanted to spend more time in the past. Time travel could be used for amazing things, but is often used for tourism rather than research (though, the travel in this novella is a research trip). The historical detail is fantastic, the interpersonal and interhistorical drama is on point, and I wanted more of every bit of this story." (my review)

The Black Gods Drums: In his review, Paul Weimer wrote that "The real richness of the novella is it is delight in invention, with an eye for creating a world that is rich for the potential for story and adventure. From the palpable existence of very active orishas, to an alternate history with a Confederacy, Haiti as a Caribbean power, and, naturally, airships, the world that Clark has created is a fascinating one that we only get a small short-novella taste of, but I want to read more of. The vision of New Orleans as a freeport where the Union, the Confederacy, Haiti and other powers all meet and trade, complete with extensive airship facilities is a compelling and fascinating one."

I was blown away by The Black God's Drums, by the characterizations and action and worldbuilding, by Clark's storytelling. As good of a novella as I thought it was when I first read it, The Black God's Drums has only increased in my estimation the more time has passed. (Paul's review)

Beneath the Sugar Sky: This third novella in Seanan McGuire's Wayward Children series offers some of the sense of nostalgia of Every Heart a Doorway, but with a far greater sense of adventure. Beneath the Sugar Sky offers a feeling of homecoming for the reader, laced with the complete nonsense of the world of Confection.

From my review: "Beneath the Sugar Sky is filled with wit and biting commentary on how children are perceived and all too often squeezed into boxes they don't belong in order to fit the ideas and dreams of their parents and other adults, and how pervasive that can be. It's also a delightful adventure story filled with charm and wonder and it's a book I did not quite want to end because I wasn't ready to say goodbye." I adored Beneath the Sugar Sky. (my review)


My Vote
1. Beneath the Sugar Sky
2. The Black God's Drums
3. Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach
4. Binti: The Night Masquerade
5. Artificial Condition
6. The Tea Master and the Detective


Our Previous Coverage
Novel


Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 3x Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.

Nanoreviews: Memory's Blade, La Belle Sauvage, Gods Monsters and the Lucky Peach

Ellsworth, Spencer. Memory's Blade [Tor.com Publishing]

I wish I could figure out if my problem with the Starfire books is that my expectation wasn't inline with what Spencer Ellsworth was doing, or if the books themselves just aren't working after such a strong series start with A Red Peace. Either way, Ellsworth does a solid job in wrapping up the series - it's nowhere near a direction readers would have expected from the first volume, but it makes sense in context of the series as a whole. Ellsworth answers questions and gives his readers an entertaining dose of what-the-fuckery. Overall, though, while Memory's Blade is stronger than Shadow Sun Seven, it never quite amounts to the level of excellence and excitement I had expected after A Red Peace.
Score: 6/10

Pullman, Philip. La Belle Sauvage [Random House]

When I finished reading The Amber Spyglass some seventeen years ago I remember hearing about some sort of follow up to His Dark Materials called "The Book of Dust". I couldn't wait. Time passed. Pullman published a couple of slim "companion volumes". After that, nothing. Then, when I had more than given up - La Belle Sauvage was announced, the first volume of The Book of Dust. I almost didn't want to read it because there was no way it could live up to my hopes and expectations. I had it in my head that Pullman couldn't do it.

Readers, La Belle Sauvage is so much better than I could have hoped. It's not His Dark Materials (and I'm firmly against nominating His Dark Materials for a Best Series Hugo because of that), but it's set in the world and it connects in obvious ways (the baby is Lyra) and likely in ways that I didn't notice because it's been almost two decades since I last read The Amber Spyglass. La Belle Sauvage works regardless of how familiar readers are with His Dark Materials. It's a splendid start to a new and familiar series.
Score: 9/10

Robson, Kelly. Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach [Tor.com Publishing]

This story is cool as hell. It's set in an ecologically wrecked future where humanity is only just beginning to emerge and re-terraform our planet back into something hospitable. That by itself would be enough to get me interested, but add in some time travel and fantastic characters and ooh, damn, Kelly Robson tells one hell of a story. It's a novella that feels far bigger than it is and even then, I wished for at least one hundred more pages despite the story ending perfectly. I wanted to spend more time in the past. Time travel could be used for amazing things, but is often used for tourism rather than research (though, the travel in this novella is a research trip). The historical detail is fantastic, the interpersonal and interhistorical drama is on point, and I wanted more of every bit of this story.
Score: 8/10



POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Writer / Editor of the mostly defunct Adventures in Reading since 2004. Minnesotan.

New Books Spotlight

Welcome to another edition of the New Books Spotlight, where each month or so we curate a selection of 6 forthcoming books we find notable, interesting, and intriguing. It gives us the opportunity to shine a brief spotlight on some stuff we're itching to get our hands on.

What are you looking forward to? Anything you want to argue with us about? Is there something we should consider spotlighting in the future? Let us know in the comments!

Baker, Mishell. Imposter Syndrome [Saga Press]
Publisher's Description

In the third book of the Nebula Award–nominated Arcadia Project series, which New York Times bestselling author Seanan McGuire called “exciting, inventive, and brilliantly plotted,” Millie Roper has to pull off two impossible heists—with the fate of the worlds in the balance.

Three months ago, a rift between agents in London and Los Angeles tore the Arcadia Project apart. With both fey Courts split down the middle—half supporting London, half LA—London is putting the pieces in place to quash the resistance. But due to an alarming backslide in her mental health, new LA agent Mille Roper is in no condition to fight.

When London’s opening shot is to frame Millie’s partner, Tjuan, for attempted homicide, Millie has no choice but to hide him and try to clear his name. Her investigation will take her across the pond to the heart of Arcadia at the mysterious and impenetrable White Rose palace. The key to Tjuan’s freedom—and to the success of the revolution—is locked in a vault under the fey Queen’s watchful eye. It’s up to Millie to plan and lead a heist that will shape the future of two worlds—all while pretending that she knows exactly what she’s doing…

Why We Want It: Listen, despite the Nebula and World Fantasy Award nominations for Borderline, I think that Baker's Arcadia Project has flown a little bit under the radar - at least in the places I see online. If that's the case, I strongly recommend that everyone go read these books. Phantom Pains leveled up everything I loved about Borderline and then Baker closed it out with an exceptional last act. I'm all in for Imposter Syndrome.

Bear, Elizabeth. Stone Mad [Tor.com Publishing]
Publisher's Description

Readers met the irrepressible Karen Memory in Elizabeth Bear’s 2015 novel Karen Memory, and fell in love with her steampunk Victorian Pacific Northwest city, and her down-to-earth story-telling voice.

Now Karen is back with Stone Mad, a new story about spiritualists, magicians, con-men, and an angry lost tommy-knocker—a magical creature who generally lives in the deep gold mines of Alaska, but has been kidnapped and brought to Rapid City.

Karen and Priya are out for a night on the town, celebrating the purchase of their own little ranch and Karen’s retirement from the Hotel Ma Cherie, when they meet the Arcadia Sisters, spiritualists who unexpectedly stir up the tommy-knocker in the basement. The ensuing show could bring down the house, if Karen didn’t rush in to rescue everyone she can. 

Why We Want It: Charles really liked Bear's novel Karen Memory (his review) and I thought it was even better than that. I loved Karen's voice and the steampunk western aesthetic. Bear is one hell of a storyteller and with Stone Mad she revisits Rapid City and gives us an unexpected adventure with Karen.

Brust, Steven. Good Guys [Tor]
Publisher's Description

A snarky, irreverent tale of secret magic in the modern world, the first solo standalone novel in two decades from Steven Brust, the New York Times bestselling author of the Vlad Taltos series 

“Delightful, exciting, and sometimes brilliant.” —Neil Gaiman on Steven Brust 

Donovan was shot by a cop. For jaywalking, supposedly. Actually, for arguing with a cop while black. Four of the nine shots were lethal—or would have been, if their target had been anybody else. The Foundation picked him up, brought him back, and trained him further. “Lethal” turns out to be a relative term when magic is involved.

When Marci was fifteen, she levitated a paperweight and threw it at a guy she didn’t like. The Foundation scooped her up for training too.

“Hippie chick” Susan got well into her Foundation training before they told her about the magic, but she’s as powerful as Donovan and Marci now.

They can teleport themselves thousands of miles, conjure shields that will stop bullets, and read information from the remnants of spells cast by others days before.

They all work for the secretive Foundation…for minimum wage.

Which is okay, because the Foundation are the good guys. Aren’t they?

Why We Want It: I'm sold on Good Guys simply because it is a novel written by Steven Brust. I absolutely love his Vlad Taltos series, but I haven't read any of his non-series novels (assuming we're not counting his Firefly fanfic novel, because that I've read and it's delightful). My expectations are high.

Kress, Nancy. If Tomorrow Comes [Tor]
Publisher's Description

Nancy Kress returns with If Tomorrow Comes, the sequel of Tomorrow's Kin, part of an all-new hard science fiction trilogy based on a Nebula Award-winning novella

Ten years after the Aliens left Earth, humanity succeeds in building a ship, Friendship, to follow them home to Kindred. Aboard are a crew of scientists, diplomats, and a squad of Rangers to protect them. But when the Friendship arrives, they find nothing they expected. No interplanetary culture, no industrial base—and no cure for the spore disease.

A timeslip in the apparently instantaneous travel between worlds has occurred and far more than ten years have passed.

 Once again scientists find themselves in a race against time to save humanity and their kind from a deadly virus while a clock of a different sort runs down on a military solution no less deadly to all. Amid devastation and plague come stories of heroism and sacrifice and of genetic destiny and free choice, with its implicit promise of conscious change.

Why We Want It: I'm a touch behind here because I have Tomorrow's Kin on my nightstand just waiting to be read. I've been a fan of pretty much everything I've read from Kress, including the original novella this series was based on, "Yesterday's Kin".

Robson, Kelly. Gods, Monsters and the Lucky Peach [Tor.com Publishing]
Publisher's Description

"Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach is a tour-de-force, with nuanced characters in a masterfully conceived world of stunning, mind-bending eco-tech." —Annalee Newitz 

Experience this far-reaching, mind-bending science fiction adventure that uses time travel to merge climate fiction with historical fantasy. From Kelly Robson, Aurora Award winner, Campbell, Nebula, and Theodore Sturgeon finalist, and author of Waters of Versailles 

Discover a shifting history of adventure as humanity clashes over whether to repair their ruined planet or luxuriate in a less tainted past.

In 2267, Earth has just begun to recover from worldwide ecological disasters. Minh is part of the generation that first moved back up to the surface of the Earth from the underground hells, to reclaim humanity's ancestral habitat. She's spent her entire life restoring river ecosystems, but lately the kind of long-term restoration projects Minh works on have been stalled due to the invention of time travel. When she gets the opportunity take a team to 2000 BC to survey the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, she jumps at the chance to uncover the secrets of the shadowy think tank that controls time travel technology. 

Why We Want It: Robson has been absolutely crushing short fiction for several years now and conceptually, this story of time travel and ecology fits so much of what I want out of a story. I read pretty much everything Tor.com Publishing puts out, but I'm sold on the description alone.

St. James, Simone. Broken Girls [Random House]
Publisher's Description

The “clever and wonderfully chilling” (Fiona Barton) suspense novel from the award-winning author of The Haunting of Maddy Clare… 

Vermont, 1950. There’s a place for the girls whom no one wants—the troublemakers, the illegitimate, the too smart for their own good. It’s called Idlewild Hall. And in the small town where it’s located, there are rumors that the boarding school is haunted. Four roommates bond over their whispered fears, their budding friendship blossoming—until one of them mysteriously disappears…

Vermont, 2014. As much as she’s tried, journalist Fiona Sheridan cannot stop revisiting the events surrounding her older sister’s death. Twenty years ago, her body was found lying in the overgrown fields near the ruins of Idlewild Hall. And though her sister’s boyfriend was tried and convicted of murder, Fiona can’t shake the suspicion that something was never right about the case.

When Fiona discovers that Idlewild Hall is being restored by an anonymous benefactor, she decides to write a story about it. But a shocking discovery during the renovations will link the loss of her sister to secrets that were meant to stay hidden in the past—and a voice that won’t be silenced… 

Why We Want It: So, my wife and I  are members of the Book of the Month club and Broken Girls was our February selection. A good ghost story is always intriguing and we've been on a bit of a mystery / thriller kick.



POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Writer / Editor of the mostly defunct Adventures in Reading since 2004. Minnesotan.