Review: The Photonic Effect by Mike Chen

The Photonic Effect wears its twin inspirations on its sleeve, and boldly launches Chen’s work into the subgenre of space opera and makes it so.

These are the voyages of the GCF Horizon. Its mission was to establish and map a new trade route for the Cluster. Instead, it spent ten years in a gravity well with a host of other trapped ships. Upon escape and return to Cluster space, they had found that in the decade since, a civil war had broken out. Now, with the experimental photonic drive that allowed them to escape the gravity well, the Horizon is seen as a tool, or a weapon, by both sides. And it turns out they have unfinished business with the Lumersians in the gravity well. Although the costs of pursuing that might be high indeed for the crew, and perhaps far beyond, as well.

This is the story of Mike Chen’s turn into space opera, The Photonic Effect.

Star Trek, in several of its incarnations, particularly TNG and Voyager are two of the clear antecedents and inspirations for Chen’s Horizon. This is in terms of the ship, the multi-species nature of the crew, the Federation-like Cluster. In terms of characters, our focus is primarily on the bridge and engineer crew of the Horizon, just like a typical Star Trek episode or series. Our Captain, Demora Kim, even has a Star Trek catchphrase, “Take us there.” Like any Star Trek series, we have a multi-species crew. In addition to the humans, including a human from another universe (thanks to that gravity well), the Horizon also has a Dwyen, a humanoid species with a pack-based hierarchical structure and outlook. And then there is Chuck… who is rather unusual and not really an active member of the crew at present, although he was crucial to the Horizon’s return to normal space. Given that Chen has written a DS9 comic, it’s clear and easy to see how he is channeling Star Trek into his unique world.

The other inspiration is a somewhat more complicated and in some aspects, darker one to draw from on occasion. And that would be the videogame series Mass Effect. Mass Effect, for those who have never played the games, takes place in a galaxy where humans are the new kids on the block and eager to prove themselves. The game can turn dark and complicated, with various forces and factions striving in a cutthroat galaxy, including secret factions and powers that the player character is engaged with. And to be truthful, the Horizon does feel much more like the Normandy from Mass Effect than most of the mainline Star Trek series central ships, except maybe Voyager. The ship is not all that large, and it is not even built well for war,¹ which makes people coveting it all the more perilous for the crew of the Horizon. They cannot shoot their way out of situations, even if they would consider doing so.

With these two powerful influences, Chen has the tools to tell his own tale and develop his own story and ’verse. Chen relies on a core set of characters and is interested in telling a story of how this flawed found family has to deal with the challenges of return, their own limitations, flaws and failures, and how to forge and come together to face threats. From Kim on down, we get a set of complicated and multi-sided characters much more DS9 in some ways in terms of characters than other Star Trek characters. Or, again, see Mass Effect. The fail points and weaknesses of the characters make each of them real, and engaging to read and follow.

Chen keeps his points of view on three characters:

Kim, the Captain, as our primary character, and the framing device at the front tells us this is her retirement interview and debriefing of her last mission. Kim went through a lot to try and get crew back home, and paid a price herself in seemingly losing her chance at romance with the aforementioned Chuck. Kim is interestingly flawed, often caught in bad decisions or situations, and has to strive to regain her crew’s trust, and to do better.

Another primary point of view is Tanav. Tanav isn’t part of the crew, not exactly; he’s an entertainer from another universe whose ship got caught in the gravity well. Circumstances forced him, along with other ships, to get on board the Horizon. He’s not crew, but he acts in a capacity of an entertainer. Tanav is conflicted—he misses his home universe, although his relation with his parents was rather complicated. And in a ship full of officers and engineers, he does wind up being a bit of an odd man out. Tanav’s story is one of growth in the face of conflict and fire, and it shows you don’t have to be the Captain or Chief Engineer to be a hero.

Third, Neera is the Chief Engineer on board the Horizon, and is the aforementioned Dwyen, which allows Chen to play with humanoid but not quite human. Chen does a great job not only in appearances, but going further and giving Neera a distinctive verbal cadence. I will bet that when I listen to the audiobook, I will be able to tell when Neera is speaking by the way she constructs her sentences, distinctive from all others. Like Kim, she’s imperfect, and her choices in trying to get the photonic drive to work wind up with major consequences for everyone.

The whole situation, seen in flashback and recollection, of that last mission that had the Horizon in the gravity well for ten years is an excellent bit of writing, dribbling out details from their ordeal and how they had to make sacrifices and paid costs in order to stay alive. In this way, it feels a lot more like a darker Voyager and much more into Mass Effect territory in that regard. And all that provides backstory and ballast to the core crew of the Horizon, including the characters who don’t get viewpoints.²

Chen has two crucial characters who are not from the original mission, and since they don’t have the ballast of the backstory of having gone to the well and having that connection to the crew, or to the world, they don’t come off quite as well. Commander Matthews, foisted onto the Horizon upon their return to the Cluster, definitely has an agenda of his own, and his antagonistic relationship with the crew provides much tension. He’s a more classic sort of square-jawed hero, and one, in roleplaying terms, that has gone on the heavy side of combat and physical skills that most of the rest of the characters cannot begin to match. The other character I will not mention, as they become the ultimate antagonist of the book. The slow reveal of their true plans and intentions is an excellent bit of craft on the part of the author.

The unusual nature of Matthews vis-à-vis the rest of the crew makes it clear that this is a much more late Star Trek than early Star Trek in terms of the characters’ approach to problems. The relatively weaponless nature of the Horizon and the lack of skills in weapons and tactics (Matthews excepted) means that the problems faced and solved usually fall to cleverness, or engineering, or science, as opposed to high-grade weaponry and battle tactics.

And the book is a lot of fun to read. If you are a fan of Star Trek, or Mass Effect, this book is relevant to your interests in creating a familiar yet unique space opera world. And if you ever wondered what you would get by mixing that peanut butter and chocolate, this book, like it was for me, will entirely be your jam. It’s entertaining, deep, philosophical, reflective; and when the action beats need to happen, Chen delivers. The world portrayed is a rich space opera ’verse with enough detail beyond the bounds of the Horizon itself to invite the playground of the imagination.

The book closes off Kim’s story, but given that this is a retirement debriefing on page one, the reader must surely guess that this is the end of her career anyway. The adventure may continue with the Horizon, and with other members of the crew, but as primary point of view and this being Kim’s story, the novel is not, as you might be worried, first in an endless series. Like the rest of Chen’s oeuvre to date, it is a standalone novel that provides an excellent story, flawed and memorable characters, strong worldbuilding and much more for the reader to discover.

Highlights:

• Mass Effect × Star Trek = entertaining space opera
• Strong set of flawed and interesting characters
• Rich and interesting world

Reference: Chen, Mike. The Photonic Effect [Saga Press, 2026].

¹ A reference point for me that Chen probably did not intend comes from the board game Star Fleet Battles, which is set in a version of the Star Trek universe. In that game, there is a design for a Federation cruiser that is very much defanged for war but has high capabilities for science and long-range reconnaissance—the Galactic Survey Cruiser. The Horizon feels a lot more like a Galactic Survey Cruiser than a regular Federation ship.

² There is a tuckerization from Star Trek, too. Watch for it!

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin

Graphic Novel Review: Free Planet #1

A wildly inventive comic/graphic novel by Aubrey Sitterson and Jed Dougherty

The planet of Lutheria has been through a lot. However, after much strife and struggle, they have gained independence from a tyrannical interstellar polity that has exploited them and their resources for a long time. They have struggled mightily against great odds and have achieved a precarious peace and stability. But it is what happens now that freedom is won that is the real story of Free Planet, a comic by Aubrey Sitterson and Jed Dougherty.

Graphic novels and manga are not my usual medium to read and review. And I am not the usual person here at Nerds of a Feather to review such work. But, in the spirit of spreading my oeuvre and skills, I decided to give it a try. And I am glad that I did. I was drawn immediately to the complexity of the art style. The creators take full advantage of the medium they are working in and push the boundaries of the form in telling their story. How? Graphic novels and comics are a visual medium; they tell the story by using imagery to do the heavy lifting alongside the dialogue and text, but it is imagery that they rely upon to tell the story. Comics have a structure that is recognizable: issues, pages, panels. If you’ve read some comics, you know precisely what to expect. And while that superstructure is here in the physical sense, the authors do much more with it, and create a visual language and a graphical vocabulary.

This first panel is a traditional comic panel, easily recognizable to anyone who has read a comic:

But many pages go much further. Look at this second image and the information density here:

We have a tense standoff between forces of the revolution and a mercenary outfit. But look on the left and you also see the story behind the story, the consequence of the revolution on grain prices as well as orchaleum production (orchaleum is a material needed for FTL travel; Lutheria has an abundance of it). Many pages of Free Planet use infographics like this to enhance and enrich the story.

This is a story about how fragile a revolution can be, and how the aftermath of success can affect the characters and the world itself. Using the visual vocabulary, we get a full sense of just what the costs of victory have been. The infographics, maps, and charts such as the one seen above do the heavy lifting of worldbuilding that would be difficult to replicate in prose.¹ We get a sense of a revolution, a planet, and the characters who are all on the edge, all of them under stress in the aftermath of the revolution. The novel focuses on the disappearance of one of the leaders of that revolution, and in the process gives us a “tour” of the revolution, both in the present and in key moments leading up to its success. Free Planet is entirely effective in using its sui generis approach to tell its story.

As a result, for me, Free Planet did not seem like a traditional comic, and I did not read it like a traditional comic. This was a deep and immersive reading experience that I took slowly and carefully, lingering on details in the graphics and visual vocabulary. It was like reading a dense space opera novel, once you don’t batter through with speed to flip pages, but rather linger on, thinking about the word choice and the scene being set. And for all of its graphical use, Free Planet has as much in common with that dense space opera novel as it does more traditional comics. I can’t imagine the amount of effort and resources it took to create Free Planet; it has to be an order of magnitude harder to accomplish. The fact that it is done so well is a testament to the work that the creators have put into it.

Thus, Free Planet has immersed me and engaged me deeply into its story, characters, backstory and worldbuilding. There is something hopeful and scary and unflinching about the story here—revolution and change are possible—but there is no happily ever after, and it takes work, a lot of work, to handle what comes next. The story of what comes after the revolution is as complicated and messy and interesting as the story of the revolution. Through the imagery, characters, and graphics of Free Planet, I was able to get my head around the costs of that revolution. And to be clear, those costs are high. And we do see bits and pieces in flashbacks of the struggle, but just enough for context, for understanding what the characters and the world of Lutheria are in for, now. But the point and focus of the graphic novel, always, is “what now?” And of course, what the revolution means. Each of the characters wants freedom… but what that actually means is not a single thing. And those definitions of freedom can and do clash.

The comic itself proclaims touchstones to Saga, and to Dune, and those are good reference points to those wondering just what kind of world this is and whether you might like to immerse yourself into this story and its characters. Other touchstones connected for me as I read the story. One in particular I want to bring up is Andor, the series as well as Rogue One. The series and the movie are at their core about getting the revolution off the ground, about how resistance is not futile, and how opposing tyranny can have high costs. So it is set “earlier” in a cycle of resistance and revolution than Free Planet is. But what the Andor saga shows, as Free Planet does, and what the main line of the Star Wars movies do NOT, is the often uneasy and prickly alliances and pieces of that revolution. Luthen, in Andor, is trying to put together a whole host of different factions into the Rebel Alliance.² And those factions are often at odds with each other as with the Empire and have very different ideas on what freedom from the Empire’s tyranny would be like. Free Planet shows that those contradictions and tensions are still there after the revolution. Readers of history (or listeners of, say, The Revolutions podcast) see this dynamic again and again.

One final note. As you could see from the panels above, the cast and society and world of Free Planet is diverse along a variety of axes, ranging from a mostly POC cast to a wide range of genders and sexualities. Lutheria and its inhabitants are a world and a people trying to find itself among a riot of diversity, and trying to find those commonalities and find strength in that diversity is part of the story of the comic. There is a definite Spanish/Brazilian flavor to Lutheria, and we see that not only in the cast, but in the use of language as well.³

I look forward to reading more issues of Free Planet, and continuing this fascinating and engaging story.

NB: The work of Aubrey Sitterson has previously been covered at Nerds of a Feather in some of the Thursday Morning Superhero columns.

NB: Although I do not do a lot of Hugo Award Nominations for the category Best Graphic Story or Comic, Free Planet #1 is going on my nomination ballot.

Highlights:

• Unique, enthralling and engaging format for visually telling the story
• An important story: what happens after the revolution wins.
• A diverse,queer and rich set of characters.

Reference: Sitterson, Aubrey and Dougherty, Joe. Free Planet Vol. I (Issues 1-6) [Image Comics, 2025].

¹ Ideas that come to mind include the use of footnotes, or perhaps the Dos Passos method of conveying information via metatexts, that has been since appropriated, adapted and evolved by authors like John Brunner and Kim Stanley Robinson. ² That is a bit of nice worldbuilding in Andor and Rogue One, isn’t it?  The core movies have the rebellion as a unified thing, with a unified command… but the name of the group is the Rebel alliance. Alliance of *what* is a detail that had to wait to be explicated. ³ And that, of course, makes me think of the Viagens Interplanetarias novels of L. Sprague de Camp.

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Book Review: Green and Deadly Things by Jenn Lyons

A standalone fantasy novel by Jenn Lyons, set in a new fantasy verse of necromancy, knights and old secrets and powers.

Mathaiik, as I like to say in many of these reviews, has a problem. He has several problems. First, he wants to be a knight, one of the Idallik Knights. But he has never been able to manifest a magical weapon, which has kept him from that rank. Also, he has a very strange and unique connection to plants, one that becomes even more intense when the nearby forest seems to be waking up, featuring a trio of plant-like queens. Even before the queens, he was on the outs and distrusted because of his nature. And, this is far different than the threats the knights were born to face. So what are these plant based threats? Are they the vanguard or allies of their hostile neighbors, the Kaliri? A sign of the necromancy that the knights have been fighting? Or something else?

Math doesn’t know the answers, but he does try and act when danger strikes. Math makes a deadly alliance and a bond with a magician buried in a magical tomb, and finds that most of the truths he knows about magic and the world are completely and utterly wrong. And that this is coming just as the world and the conflicts within it are set to turn to a new and deadly phase.

This is the story of Jenn Lyons’ standalone fantasy novel Green and Deadly Things.

Green and Deadly Things runs on a few rails. We start with Math as our point of view character throughout the book. As a result we get a character who is on the outs, but desperately wants to be a knight, to be a hero, to be a protector. This sort of duty and honor is not an abstract characteristic with Math, either. There are a group of children at the base where Math is struggling to become a knight, and their protection, throughout the book, is something always on Math’s mind and he takes action again and again in order to protect them. Math is not a perfect character, but Lyons time and again presents him in a heroic light, even if he doesn’t think he has the abilities of a hero. And it turns out that he’s wrong about that, too.

The worldbuilding and overarching world is a deep and interesting world, a feature of Lyons’ previous works here in full flower. Lyons has a real balancing act here for the reader and she manages it: she has to convey to a new reader what they think and how they think the world work, with necromancy, knights, and the wild and weird forest. And then, even as the book conveys the world, it also has to make the turn to show that what Math and most of the world thinks is absolutely wrong. And that is done by Kaiataris. Kaiataris is what Math thinks of as a Grim Lord, a necromancer from an earlier age that should all be dead and gone. So, in a desperate attempt to save himself and those he cares about in a forest gone into a rampage, Math manages to unlock the tomb where Kai has been sleeping, and wakes her up. And, accidentally, forms a magical bond with her. And Kai, being from the far past, a different age of the world, has a very different view of magic, and uses a very different magical paradigm. There is a real delight, in that Kai doesn’t understand how Math does magic even as Math is stunned by Kai’s abilities and nature¹.

And the rest of the worldbuilding is rich and deep as well. We do get a whistle-stop tour of the regions behind the forest where we start, and Lyons does enjoy enriching her world. There are trains (hence the whistle-stop reference), teleportation circles, and ancient secrets. We get dangerous adversarial nations, ancient ruins, intrigues within factions of the knights and much more. Its a complicated and rich world, and Lyons gives us enough information and pulls back the fog of war the world to provide a world that seems as rich as the Chorus of Dragons world, but in a more compact space. This is a world that I could see more novels and stories set in, but this story is a more distilled and concentrated presentation than the more luxurious, expansive series. And, this novel is written explicitly and directly as a standalone and one and done story that gives satisfactory endings to the characters and their relationships. The novel goes from a local problem, to, quite logically and in easy steps, the fate of the world, with the largest possible stakes.

Relationships and the connections between characters helps drive plot and action throughout the novel as those stakes rise. While the novel stays in the point of view of Math throughout, Lyons does a solid job in giving us characterization and development on both sides of his relationships. His affection and caring for the children of the fort. The love of his sister. The rivalries and personal antagonistic relationships with some of his fellow knights, too, get full character arcs and development. It’s a rich web and tapestry of characters and how they interact, and she does well in tying this to the major overarching plots.

Oh, and speaking of relationships, there is a very slow burn romance. As it turns out Kaiataris, as the novel unfolds, has a slow growth of her relationship with Math throughout the novel. The growth of their relationship, warts and all, is one of the chassis of the book, but it doesn’t feel tacked on or perfunctory, as they so often can be in an epic fantasy. Instead, Lyons has it as a natural avenue for character growth, for Math and Kai alike. They are very different people, a would-be knight, and a sorceress, put under pressure and trial and learning to care for each other. There are some very funny moments, and some very tender moments, and seeing Math and Kai trying to figure out their relationship, through and beyond the bond, is excellent and affective and effective writing.

The pacing and scales of the novel, finally, shows the deft hand of the author. We go from an incident in a forest border fort, range across the world, contract the action when needed to a small scale tight focus and expand out again. Lyons has a great affection for this world, be it a dangerous forest, one of the largest libraries in the world (and the fact that Math loves libraries is not lost on me as a reader), ancient ruins (such as the one that we find Kai), ballrooms, or expanses of deadly desert. Lyons loves to follow up quiet moments with furious, kinetic action. I was entertained at every stage and “one more chapter” sense is strong in her writing.

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Highlights

• rich epic fantasy in one volume
• interesting and dynamic character development and relationships
• page turning and enthralling writing.

Reference: Lyons, Jenn, Green and Deadly Things, [Tor Books, 2026]

¹ The paradigm and comparison I kept going to, although it is not exact, is the stories of Aahz and Skeeve by Robert Asprin (Another Fine Myth and sequels). This would make Kai as Aahz and Math as Skeeve. Skeeve didn’t know what he was doing, and needed Aahz’s help, who had lost his magic and had lots of knowledge, but not any power. 

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Book Review: The Subtle Art of Folding Space

A story of two sisters and their tangled relationship, plus maintenance of the laws of the universe

Ellie lives in Boston. She is on her way to DC, where her elder sister Chris has been taking care of their mother, whose condition has slipped into a coma. Chris is the type of elder sister that never, ever stops telling Ellie how worthless she is, how much she clearly doesn’t love their mother as much as Chris does.

Oh, and did I mention that Chris has sent a number of assassination attempts Ellie’s way?

Oh, and did I also mention that their family is among a secret group of people who maintain this universe, and others?

This is the story of The Subtle Art of Folding Space, short story author John Chu’s jump from shorter forms into a full-length novel.

There is a point in the novel where Ellie, and a few others, are discussing the fact that within their society there is apparently a secret cabal of universe tinkerers, maintainers and builders, and how it’s a problem that there are secret factions amongst them. It’s funny, but Ellie never seems to consider that she herself, and all of her colleagues, are in fact a secret cabal within the wider universe, and universes, that the secrecy goes from the very beginning. So let me explain:

Ellie, Chris, their mother, family members and others, some of which are not from this particular universe, and some of which are most definitely not human, are members of a group of people who build, debug and maintain universes, including our own. They do this by means of an attached “sub-universe” called the “skunkworks.” That’s where the universe can be tweaked. Those who can do this are expected to do it not for their own gain, but as an unheralded public good, and as needed. Ellie may not be her mother (who is and was Chief Builder), but when she finds that there’s new hardware and code in the skunkworks, and that someone is exploiting design flaws, she’s forced into action.

The mechanics, methodology and paradigm of maintaining the universe feel somewhat like computer programming, when you have some very old code that has not been completely debugged and probably can’t be. That means continual work for people like Ellie. Just how this all came to be in the first place, and how someone can get initiated into this, are never made clear, but the programming of the universe is a scaffold for telling a story of heart with these characters and their relationships.

Take Chris and Ellie. Chris, as mentioned above, continually tells Ellie she is not good enough and really doesn’t love their mother. Plus the assassination attempts, and the gaslighting. The novel takes pains to have Ellie slowly really realize just how toxic Chris’s relationship with her is, and how it is not a normal sibling rivalry relationship, but something worse. The untangling and exegesis of the Ellie-Chris relationship is what this novel is all about. The skunkworks, the machinations, the secret societies, changes to the universe, and intrigues, all really in the end boil down to Ellie’s relationship with her older sister.

This means that readers who are hoping for even more crunchy details on how these universe maintainers do their work are going to be a bit disappointed. Just enough detail is there to tantalize the reader (such as mentioning casually that a century ago they had to add quantum mechanics to the universe), but it does not go endlessly deep. The sense that we get, and is explicated directly at points, is that maintaining the universe is a thankless job, if you are playing it straight and not for your own gain. It’s a lot of work, scut work, to keep the machinery of the universe running, especially when it’s filled with exploits and code problems.

But the book really isn’t about the mechanics of all this. This is a book about the characters in that space, and what they do, and why, and how they relate to each other. There are also hints, as mentioned above, of various philosophies within the factions of how to do all this.¹

Besides Ellie and Chris (who is not actually on screen so much but remains a looming antagonist), the other major character we get is their cousin Daniel. He is a prodigy of the skunkworks on axes that Ellie is not, and it is clear that he, for all his affability, is extremely competent—and dangerous. I also liked Ahdi, who is Daniel’s boss in the hierarchy (or is he?), and has some rather startling skills of his own. Through Ahdi we get a window into the greater world of the people who maintain the skunkworks of this and other universes, and it’s a tangled relationship map that Ellie, Chris and Daniel are only just getting themselves into.

In many ways, this feels like a multiverse modern world novel that is in conversation with Max Gladstone’s Craft Wars books. Both authors have a strong sense of humanity and relationships, queer-positive worlds, and characters that are dealing with some often unhinged and mighty powers (magic on one side, multiversal manipulation on the other). But what counts is how people deal with such power, and the philosophies of handing it. A lot of the Craft Wars is about how to maintain societies and what it means to siphon off power for your own ends, even with the best of intentions. Here, Ellie and Chris’s relationship, and the fate of their mother, falls squarely into that conversation.

The novel reaches an inflection point in the sisters’ relationship, a very satisfactory ending to a self-contained story. Anyone who has had strained relations with a sibling, especially revolving around their relationship with their parents, can see and get a lot out of the Ellie-Chris relationship. The skunkworks and the problems, personal and otherwise, revealed in the course of the novel are not resolved, and if Chu wanted to write more in this multiverse (I do think he has a lot more to say about power than what he has said here, again, like the Craft Wars ’verse does), I think there’s room here to really explore these ideas with an aggressively character-centered focus.

In other words, I certainly read more novels set in this multiverse.

Pass the bao, and some more novels, John!

Highlights:

• A very strong focus on character dynamics, the Ellie-Chris relationship in particular
• Universe maintenance as computer programming of an old and somewhat creaky system
• This novel made me hungry for bao

Reference: Chu, John. The Subtle Art of Folding Space [Tor, 2026].

¹ The description of exploits and how the universe can be circumvented reminds me a bit of the description of how magic works in Charles Stross’ Laundry Files ’verse, specifically The Regicide Report.

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Book Review: The Astral Library by Kate Quinn

A magical realism novel about the power and importance of libraries. 

Libraries. What are they good for? Many things as it turns out. Libraries are collections of books, yes, but they are havens, safe spaces, sanctuaries for people, especially readers. Libraries are inherently magical spaces. Historical fiction writer Kate Quinn turns to fantasy and magical realism in her paean to libraries and books, The Astral Library.

The novel centers around our protagonist, Alix, and holds it in a first person point of view throughout the book. Alix has a rather hardscrabble life, living on a couch, less than $40 in her checking account, and working three jobs to not make ends meet. To say that she is living on the edge would be an understatement to be sure. A series of unfortunate events (including a bout of identity theft) puts Alix over the edge. But our bibliophilic reader finds a portal in the Boston Public Library into the titular Astral Library. Every book ever written (and some that are still in progress) are available here. Even better, she can go into a book to live in. Into the world of the book, to be clear. Like Gumby, or perhaps more contemporary, like an Isekai LitRPG, people who come to the library can choose a book to enter into its world. 

No, you don’t get to become Jane Eyre, but you get to be in her world. You can fight alongside D’Artagnan, but not as Athos. You can experience the world of a book, quite literally. It’s the ultimate playground of the imagination. You can even choose to live inside of a book of your choosing. Do you want to live in a mansion in West Egg not far away from the Gatsby’s. The Astral Library can let you do this!

The Astral Library chooses its readers to be allowed to do this, and Alix is the latest choice. But as our protagonist gets set to live in a book, her world and the world of the library come under threat. For, you see, the librarian of the Library is not in complete control of the Astral Library. Instead, a Board seeks to modernize and change and update the Astral Library... and not, as Alix learns for the better. This board seeks to bring the Library into a modern mold, complete with side helpings of “improvements” like curating the library for texts that are “inappropriate for children”, for starters. Alix finds herself on the front lines of a conflict to protect the Astral Library she has just discovered.

This is the central plot conflict of The Astral Library.

The central character conflict and development, the romance, is between Alix and her best friend Beau. Beau is in a hardscrabble existence of his own, resonantly, as he is trying his best to make it as a fashion designer. He’s gotten some breaks, but he is on the edge of success, or of utter failure. But thanks to an IOU that Alix has, he has promised her a dress for a single occasion. And when she enters the library, she has such an occasion to cash in that IOU. But beyond that, the arcs of a slow burn romance slowly come to the fore between them.

But really, this novel is about the magic of books and what the power of the magic of books and libraries have to offer, especially in times when the sources of that magic is under threat. For all of its whimsicalness, the novel does go rather topical and sometimes rather dark, both with Alix’s life and with the threat that libraries face in general. This novel is all about what libraries face. Does it have a bulletproof solution to what is to be done in a world where libraries are being squeezed and squeezed? No. The novel is a fantasy about, among other things, being able to stop and fight back against some of these forces. It’s a novel about believing in libraries and their mission. This is a novel about believing in books.

So why was I dissatisfied with this novel as much as I was? All the elements of a magical library are there, all the elements of why books are magical things and celebrating the magic nature of books. And not just books, but other art as well Alix finds out there are sections of the library devoted to art that one can enter. There is even a tie in to one of Quinn’s historical fiction novels in the process. The book loves books and is unapologetic about that love.

While I’ve seen references to Jemisin’s work before, I was delighted to find references to The Queendom novels of Greer. It’s unapologetic for the mission and nature of libraries as they have been. The novel is also queer friendly, both Alix and Beau are unapologetically bisexual and happy and proud of it. It’s not a queer-friendly world, but the world of the Astral Library is a little less queer-hostile than our own.

But for me the worldbuilding of the book just did not hold up to any sort of scrutiny or reflection. I am going to leave the details of this to an end note, if you do not want to be spoiled. And yes, while this is a magical realism novel, the consequences of the worldbuilding were more than a bit ungainly, once they became obvious to me, they harmed my enjoyment of the story. And even for a novel that is at its end an allegory about the dangers that libraries are under and the wonder and power of libraries and books, the worldbuilding flaws (which also lead to a downbeat in the character arc between Alix and Beau) marred my enjoyment.

I wanted to like, love and immerse myself in this book far more than I did. The book is very uncomfortable in spots, Alix really is in a tough situation at the beginning and at points, the author does press onto sore spots in Alix with strong pressure. This novel may be a comfort read at points but at other points, it hits rather hard. But overall. the heart of the themes and ideas of The Astral Library are in the right place, But for me, the execution just doesn’t quite match up.

End Note

Alright. A couple of things bothered me about the worldbuilding. Spoilery and again, read this only if you want to. 

The major one is how time works here. It is established in the novel that no time passes within the library itself. You can walk in and as long as you stay within the library itself and do not go into the world of a book, time relative to the outside world does not pass at all. If you go into the world of a book, then time runs at a rate equal to that of the real world. So a number of the patrons are spending chunks of their lives doing this, one of them is basically cycling through The Tale of Genji over and over again. There is mention that you can continue to live in a book “after it’s over” but that the results are unpredictable. So patrons renew the books and start over and over again. Come out of the book, a year has passed, renew and go back in.

The problem, you will see immediately, is how can things in the outside world impinge upon the library at all if it is timeless? The Library Board sends messages and threats into the library but how can that possibly work if time inside of the library itself stands still? It is explicitly explained by the librarian that if you enter the library at 5pm on a Friday, and if you don’t go into a book, you leave the library at the exact moment that you entered. So how can the library receive threats at all? The chase scenes through the books we get are fine, its established that book time is equal to ours. The author forgets this again when Alix tries to read the forthcoming Song of Ice and Fire book... which is changing as the author changes his mind. Again, those changes can’t happen because the library is a fixed point in time that when you leave, it is the time that you entered. 

And then there is the other worldbuilding quibble. This is a realpolitik problem of how the novel dances around copyright issues. The novel does an excellent job with the love and lore of books. Alix is a Reader, capitalized. She name drops a host of books and authors throughout the work, and the author’s own enthusiasm for these books is unmistakable. So, naturally, once Alix is first explained that she can live in a book, she immediately starts naming off books that are in copyright. Narnia. Middle Earth. She is shut down completely and firmly by this and told that she can only live in books that are in the public domain. She cannot visit and live in books that are in copyright, as a way of respecting the authors and their work. While I understand the problems and copyright issues, the sheer awkward nature of this restriction glared out at me. Narnia and Middle Earth have authors who are dead. Their estates own the copyrights. While I get how the author has a problem here, Alix is shut off in an unsatisfying way. And what of things that are in the public domain in some places, and not others. The early stories of Ian Fleming (James Bond) are in copyright in the United States but entered into the public domain in Canada, there was even a Canadian published anthology that used this fact. Are the Ian Fleming Bond stories available to be "lived in" or not? 

What I think annoys me is not that the author is trying to escape lawsuits and problems, but that the solution just doesn’t fit with the rest of the library’s ethos and nature. For example, it is pointed out that multiple readers can live in the same book, but they are in their own worlds and versions of that world and thus won’t meet, living parallel lives in versions of the same book. That argument goes to copyrighted books, too, after all. The version of Middle Earth I have in my head is my own and is idiosyncratic. Maybe if it was mentioned that there was a special archive where people could enter books in copyright (but phrased in a more smooth manner), the weird restriction would not have irked me, so. Slow down Alix’s charge to get to Cair Paravel by having plot happen first, and the problem solves itself by the end of the book and it doesn’t seem like there is a very weird tiered version of access in the Library based on copyright. This in itself goes against the entire theme of the book, which is perhaps why it irks me so thoroughly. 

The counterargument to this entire end note is that the worldbuilding is not, to use the phrase I got from Liz Bourke meant to be "load-bearing". Which means that the worldbuilding elements are not what matter and to focus on the inconsistencies does a disservice to the book and what it is for.

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Highlights:

• The wonder and love of libraries and books.
• Immersive scenes and locations
• Queer friendly.

Reference: Quinn, Kate, The Astral Library, William Morrow, 2026

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin

Book Review: The Sleep of Empires by David Annandale

The first entry in the Book of the Null series takes a writer better known for Warhammer 40k and Doctor Doom and introduces us to an original fantasy universe of his own

Big things start from small beginnings. In a world in a very tenuous cold peace between various factions, several small events upset the balance of power and begin to change the face of a continent, and of a long history as well. David Annandale’s The Sleep of Empires, his first foray into an original universe for quite some time, starts us off small in a relatively typical fantasy mode. We have a student at a university who is seeking to steal an artifact. We have a star-crossed couple seeking a marriage that would end a family feud—except the would-be bride’s father has other marital plans for her. And the cut-out would-be suitor has a force at his back to help said father. But when the father sets the groom an impossible task, what is found is as equally dangerous as the artifact book…

And the result of all these actions is much more than a thief on the run, or a fractious family feud. Instead, the world, and even the gods, will have to take notice as unexpected consequences and long-held secrets come to light.

Our points of view are several. Latanna Forgrym and Alisteyr Huesland are the prospective couple. The feud between the Hafields and McCoys could be sealed with a marriage, and they do seem to love each other. At least, Alisteyr does. Latanna is a little more cagey about such things. The author drops some hints here and there right from the beginning that this relationship isn’t going to go as planned, even before her father objects.

Another point of view is Garwynn. He plays at being a magician, because magic doesn’t really exist anymore, or so people think. Tricks and sleight of hand is all that one can do… until his power manifests spectacularly and suddenly. That brings him to the attention of the authorities, and is a signpost that the world indeed is changing, and perhaps not for the better.

Annandale has nicely built in connections and history that link all these characters one way or another, so it does not feel like a set of random viewpoints. Garwynn, although living in “the big city,” is from the same area as Alisteyr and Latanna, and had unrequited feelings for Alisteyr, once upon a time.

Kansthun and Memory are mercenaries hired by Latanna and Alisteyr. Kansthun is a Kaul, of which we will talk more in a bit. Memory is aptly named, because he doesn’t talk and seems not to remember his past. And just what he is is not clear, even to himself. Memory is a real heart of this book in a sense that the others are not. It turns out Memory is much more than he appears, even to himself, and The Sleep of Empires is fundamentally about Memory starting to recover his legacy. It’s not a happy one.

If you have read Annandale’s work before, he writes in dark worlds and often features characters who are charitably called dark, and in many cases can be better classified as outright villains even if their sense of purpose obscures from them how they are perceived. Sometimes they come to the awareness they are considered villains and yet do what they will anyway. Annandale loves the “villain is a hero of their own story” trope and uses it here, and not just for Memory. There are multiple characters in this story who really could be considered villains in any sense of the world, or perhaps, at the very least, monsters.¹ The care and humanity that Annandale shows for characters like Corvus Rebine and Doctor Doom transfers very well to his characters here. The monsters and villains here are humanized, but what they do and what they are is not sugarcoated. And, in keeping with Davies’s book as footnoted above, the villains also have been painted by mythologized history and its sometimes deliberate rewriting.

Now let me talk about the worldbuildi|ng. Given the strength of Annadale’s work with villains and such characters, I wanted to save the world for after my discussion of same, so here we are. As mentioned above, this is an original world of his, one that has been gestating for quite some time. It’s a secondary world fantasy, dark in tone. We have some fractious (from within and without) human kingdoms and polities. These kingdoms have a cold peace with the nearby imperious and imperial elves, with designs of their own. And then there are the Kaul, from out east, skeletal, monstrous. If one wants to use a generic term for them, they are most definitely the “orcs” of the setting. This really puts, as noted about, Kansthun (and Memory as his partner) as real outsiders in the human and elven polities. Does all of this sound familiar (Elves, Humans, etc). Yes, although the use of gods, the theological history, helps stamp this into his own mold and makes it rise above a repeat of old tropes.

So there is that theological history. Long ago, apparently there was a war against a Morgoth-like figure ruling a land called Voran. Humans, elves, dwarves and gods marched against this figure and destroyed the land and dealt with the God of Evil. Just how and what happened to him, is a case of “history became legend, legend became myth.” Voran is just a word to the humans, even as both they and the elves keep watch over the destroyed area just in case. That sort of fantastical watch over things of Voran and the Void extend even to mathematics. For, you see, the “Book of the Null” refers to one of the most useful (but in this world, dangerous) concepts that exist: the number zero.

So who is the ideal reader for this book? I think this is a case where a book is not going to have universal appeal. If you like dark fantasy worlds², this is the place for you. If you are a fan of Annandale’s previous and want to see what he can and does do in an original setting, this book is absolutely for you. In a darker tone, this book makes me think of Jacqueline Carey’s Banewrecker or other recent novels that have a villain protagonist, like, say, Cameron Johnston’s The Maleficent Seven (although tonally it reads very differently) or Ari Marmell’s The Conqueror’s Shadow.

The book ends with some revelations and an unveiling of what the conflict for the rest of the series is going to be about. I’m very interested in seeing how, now with more cards face up, Annandale shows off his main characters (especially the villains) and how the shattering conflict he has brewed up unfolds.

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Highlights:

• First original universe in a long time a from long-established author of Warhammer 40k and much more
• Villains: monsters and misunderstood
• Rich and deep fantasy world

References: Annandale, David, The Sleep of Empires Book of the Null, Nightshade Books, 2025.

¹ See my review of Surekha Davies’s: Humans A Monstrous History: http://www.nerds-feather.com/2025/05/book-review-humans-monstrous-history.html

² Is this “grimdark”? Well, Warhammer 40k is one of the originators of the idea of grimdark. Annandale’s fiction is dark, and there are characters doing questionable things,but it is not a morosely and complete shades of dark grey and black world like you find in a grimdark setting of the first water. But I could see someone wanting to slot it in that category.

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Book Review: ECO 24 edited by Marissa Van Uden

A speculative fiction anthology devoted to ecological fiction.

Whether you call it ecofiction, cli-fi, climate fiction or any other of a number of terms, ecological fiction is something that, as editor Marissa Van Uden points out, a type of story that humanity has been told for as long as we’ve been telling stories. From the Bible’s story of the flood, to the Sumerian myth of Utnapishtim, we’ve had stories of flood. The story of Persephone, Hades and Demeter has Demeter make the earth barren in anger and sorry for her lost daughter. While ecological fiction may not have had a name until the 1970’s, these stories have carried from human’s beginnings to Watership Down, to Daphne du Maurier (adapted into the film by Alfred Hitchhock), to Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, and to Kim Stanley Robinson and other contemporary authors.

Marissa Van Uden brings a selection of ecological fiction stories to her anthology, ECO24: The Year's Best Speculative Ecofiction from Violet Lichen Press. All of the stories are reprints and represent what are, to Van Uden, the best of the field. Van Uden’s interest in ecological fiction and nature are formative in what made her an editor in the first place, and so that passion comes through in her editorial role in the selection of the stories. Since Violet Lichen is a small press (and sister press to the better known Apex), there is a real handcrafted feel to Van Uden’s curation. Also, the mission of Violet Lichen press, as they describe themselves is, “Inspired by the mysterious beauty of lichens growing in shadowy woods and the surreal drama of violet shades in nature, Violet Lichen fully embraces the weird, strange, and uncanny. It aims to leave readers feeling a little changed and disquieted, as if they have just emerged from under a strange spell.”

So when you combine ecological fiction with a small press sensibility and pair that with the weird, strange and uncanny, what Van Uden clearly is aiming for is a selection of stories that are ecological fiction, yes, but also all different, odd, unusual and strange. That’s a rather tall order. I know that ecological fiction has been having a moment as our own world’s environment continues to careen and become more unpredictable. However, I wondered, as I was reading the introduction to the book, whether or not there were enough stories to fill such a collection. It emerges that the editor’s plan is to do this sort of volume, yearly. And that, yes, even in a niche like this, there is a wealth of material to be found, curated and selected from.

In reviewing an anthology, particularly with a remit as unique as this one, I like to pay attention to not only what stories the editor has chosen, but particularly the first and last stories, since they open and anchor the collection.

For the opening, we have "In the Field" by Shelly Jones, originally published in The Future Fire. It is a potent, painful story of a researcher helping a very aging professor, a professor who hasn’t quite realized just how badly the world has changed after disaster. It’s a story of memory, and loss, and is poignant. The fact that the researcher is a droid, and the professor is truly alone of human company adds an extra dimension. I didn’t find this story strange and weird so much as somber.

But then that is a theme that goes throughout a number of stories of this collection. "The Water Runner" by Eugen Bacon is a world where the seas have dried up, and there is an almost mystical escape place, New Dodoma. Everyone, including our protagonists, want to get there, but it feels like a mirage, a delusion or a dream. Later in the collection, "Pig House" by Kay Vandal is a story where powered rebreathers are the only way to survive in a poisoned world. And a cross country trip to see what may be the last pig on Earth proves deadly. "The Plasticity of Being" by Renan Bernado is a story where a number of people are engineered in order to be able to eat plastic. It’s a story of exploitation of the poor by the rich, and by corporations, and how much the social cost of late state capitalist really is.

There are stories which are not so downbeat and lack an aura of doom. "Batter and Pearl" by Steph Kwiatkowski is a lovely little story of a really strange and weird world, where harvesting pearls of plastic in the ocean is a way to make a living. There is also a sense of “looking for the big score” to the story, which was totally unexpected and delightful. There is a strange darkness and verve to Jennifer Hudak’s "The Colonists". I could totally see this story in the light of 1950’s science fiction in terms of its theme and plot, but Hudak gives a very modern and literary feel to the story.

"Swarm X1048 - Ethological Field Report: Canis Lupus Familiaris", “6”" by F.E. Choe may be my favorite story. It is a moving story about alien xenobiologists studying the life and story of a dog. While many of the stories in the collection were moving, I was particularly touched by 6’s story and how 6 impacted the researchers who studied him. While many of the stories in this collection touched me, this one particularly resonated with me.

As far as the last story in the collection, we have "Mangrove Daughter" by E.M. Linden. This story to round out the collection has a second person point of view, and a strong sense of place, a slowly spreading grove of mangroves. Like the mangroves themselves are an inhabitant of a liminal space, between ocean and land, this story is a liminal one, using its point of view, and the theme of transformation into liminal space, particularly, to achieve that.

And aside those, there are many interesting and weird stories to read and enjoy. Not all of them are hits for me, even given the narrow and specialized remit of the anthology, the stories vary widely, even more than what I have described in the few I have talked about here. I think that the collection is a strong offering from Violet Lichen that helps showcase what the press and its mission is all about.

In the end, the editor’s hand in choosing and arranging these stories for maximum impact is noted and appreciated. ECO24 is, in essence, a collection that is more than the sum of its parts.

 
--

The Math

Highlights:

• Strong editorial hand from the editor
• Interesting and diverse set of stories
• Weird, unusual and strange, just as it said on the tin.

Reference: Van Uden, Marissa, ECO24: The Year's Best Speculative Ecofiction, (Violet Lichen Press, 2025)

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Book Review: Enchanting the Fae Queen by Stephanie Burgis

The second of the Queens of Villainy series

Second in her fantasy series “The Queens of Villainy,” Enchanting the Fae Queen continues Stephanie Burgis' series set in a world of magic and some technology. While I have read other works by her before, I decided to jump in feet first into book two of this series, although I do own, unread, book one, Wooing the Witch Queen.

After reading a rather dark book, I wanted to go for something lighter. And so I found myself picking up what is, in fact, a romantasy in name¹ as well. And I want to talk about that for a moment before I even get to the book itself. Romantasy has, retroactively, been seen to being going back at least to Emma Bull’s War for the Oaks², But as far as I can tell, Romantasy became a thing in the early 2010’s with authors like Sarah J Maas. But in recent years, especially it seems in the age of Covid, that it has been pushed and expanded as a comfort read, and authors either squeezed into it or marketed as such.

I’ve read a lot of fantasy in my life, and what is now being seen as Romantasy, ex post facto, and what I have seen is that Romantasy is the rising trend in fantasy. I've talked about Grimdark in the past, which was the reigning ruler of fantasy for quite a while. And even now, there is still a lot of Grimdark out there.  But the new but not so new hotness is Romantasy.  Many of the secondary world fantasy books I am offered these days are pitched as Romantasy. Right or wrong, Romantasy is perceived as the rising subgenre. I myself have tried a couple of Romantasy books and bounced off all of them. The irony is that Romantasy has been pitched and shown often as a comfortable subgenre, a subgenre one reads for pleasure and immersion in the story of a relationship. But I'd to this point failed to really enjoy it.

And so we come to Enchanting the Fae Queen.

In some ways, this was also a challenge as well as a reach for something lighter. What would jumping into book two of a Romantasy series be like? Could it hold up for me as a reader of fantasy? Could I actually "get" Romantasy as a subgenre? I decided to go deliberately outside my comfort zone, even if it is ostensibly to a "comfort subgenre".  I knew the basic setup of the Queens of Villainy verse but was scant on the details. Could a second novel in a Romantasy series hold me? And so, not well armed at all, I went in.

Enchanting the Fae Queen features one of the soi-disant Queens of Villainy, Queen Lorelei. Originally from Faerie, she rules one of the three realms that border a human and very dangerous empire run by Emperor Otto. Otto is a young and dangerous empire running an empire that, from context feels vaguely mid to late 19th century. There seems to be a mixture of both German and French influences to this Empire Trains are relatively new, there are gas lamps, but technology has not progressed any further. Otto himself feels like a Kaiser Wilhelm II, young, impetuous, expansionistic, with a helping of intolerance that is both medieval and, sadly, positively modern.

Lorelei herself is the Queen of a Kingdom on the borders of this hungry hungry Empire, but the novel’s focus, as a Romantasy is on the relationship between her and General de Moireul of the Empire. They’ve had entanglements for years, but, now, as the Empire is rearing up yet again to try and make war on the Queens, Lorelei proves impetuous. She kidnaps Gerard and in the process launches them into a tournament in Faerie. Faerie has changed since the time she was once there, and Lorelei and Gerard not only have to work together, but something else, not only to even possibly win the tournament, not even to stop a war neither want, but just to survive. And, find a connection, together.

And thus a story unfolds.

As mentioned above, Romantasy’s conventions and focus are on the development of relationships, particularly romantic ones. As a result, I was left with a lot of questions about the worldbuilding that I do not think that the first book, Wooing the Witch Queen, address, either. That’s not what the book really is focused on, or what the book is for.

I did try to read the book with the protocols of a fantasy novel, and I did find that to be a somewhat frustrating experience. Even given that I came into the middle of a series, I was left with a lot of questions about how the world works that seemed to be not answered, or at least not really the concern of the writer. The use of magic, especially Fae magic, mind, and a secondary fantasy world kept the novel firmly in the realm of being fantasy, even if the protocols didn’t always quite fit. To give one telling point: This is a secondary fantasy world, but one whose geography is rather vaguely described and there is, indeed, no map.³ Now, mind you, in a world where portal magic among the Queens is not uncommon, the Empire itself doesn’t seem to have much of this.

But how does it read, overall, protocols aside for a moment? Burgis has a warm and inviting style to her writing. Yes, it is character focused, more in a moment about that. Burgis has a number of speeds of her writing, directing the writing and its flow to keep the reader engaged and turning pages. She narrows down nicely into details, especially how the characters are feeling and acting, during some trials, and handwaves and telescopes others once we get the point of what is going on and how the trials are proceeding. She uses mainly Lorelei as our point of view, although she also briefly brings us into other points of view as well. Burgis has honed her style to be very readable. I hesitate to use the word light, because Burgis is serious about developing her characters and relationships. She has a softer touch on worldbuilding and plot, but when it comes to writing characters, this is where her writing truly shines.

But back to protocols and focusing on those characters and relationships. It is reading the book with the protocols of a romance novel that one can better judge the novel’s merits. And on those merits the novel succeeded for me on much stronger ground. The development of the Lorelei-Gerard relationship is the backbone and superstructure of the novel and the story proceeds on familiar lines, and executed excellently. It’s the classic enemies to lovers trope, although Lorelei has had a thing for Gerard, opponent as he might be, for quite some time. Both of them, though, have strongly guarded and hardened hearts. Lorelei is self-described as a rake, an enthusiastic lover, but one who does not give her own heart in the process. She has and does cut a swath across the landscape and is known to do so. Gerard on the other hand has never given his heart to anyone. He is so focused on his job, his duty, his honor, that he has never found the place in his heart for another. Especially not the Fae Queen who has tormented him with tricks and gambits for years.

But, in the course of the aforementioned Tournament that the two find themselves in, the two’s relationship slowly starts to develop. It follows a slowly pattern of the two falling for each other, despite themselves, in a rising and falling pattern, with setbacks, declarations, finally getting together, and of course, in the end, the setback and finally the HEA (Happily Ever After).

The innovation, such as it is with a Romantasy like the Queens of Villainy series is that this happens in a fantasy verse. And yes, while Romance is the better frame and protocol with which to understand most Romantasy novels such as this series, the protocol of fantasy and the overall fantastic plot still applies and has to be accounted for. The first book in the series, Wooing the Witch Queen, is an HEA, but the characters are still here in the second book, and are secondary characters to the overall plot. The fantasy world and its problems still go on, the Empire is still out there, and in this second book, Otto and his plans are, I gather, have darkened since the first book.

What this all means is that the third and final book, Melting the Ice Queen, is going to complete the trilogy and resolve the fantasy plot. But, like the first novel’s relationship is clearly in an HEA and remains so, this novel and the Lorelei-Gerard relationship will remain stable and be nurtured, even as the third novel focuses on a new one, with the third Queen of Villainy. That relationship promises to be a queer one. I do want to mention that while this world seems queer-friendly, it will only be in the third novel that we get a queer relationship forward and featured. From what I understand, in Romantasy, queer relationships are rather in the minority at present. Perhaps Burgis’ third novel and the culmination of the Queens of Villainy series will help balance that. Romantasy, I feel, like any genre or subgenre, should be diverse. It is important for it to be so.

One more point. The title. The title of this novel, and indeed the titles of all three novels, are focused on the MC woman partner. Wooing the Witch Queen. Enchanting the Fae Queen. Melting the Ice Queen. The woman-focused and female MC focused main character titling is showing the importance of providing such framing for female readers. This series would be very different in outward appearance if they were identical inside but rather they were titled Wooing the Archduke and Enchanting the General. Although, as noted above, the third novel’s retitling would be something like Melting the Ice Priestess.

It would appear I have much to learn about reading the protocols of Romantasy, and writers like Burgis, whom I have read before, but in this age of Romantasy, are finding a home and receptive audience for the stories they want to tell.

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Highlights

• Romantasy, second in a series. 
• Strong character beats
• Well written, engaging and entertaining 

Reference: Burgis, Stephanie, Enchanting the Fae Queen (Bramble, 2026)

¹ It is pretty clear that although Romantasy is a new term, previous works by Stephanie Burgis, such as Snowspelled, are, retrospectively, definitely Romantasy as well.

² Of course, I had thought that War for the Oaks was a progenitor of modern Urban Fantasy, which goes to show that categories have overlap, as well as the fact that there are books that subgenres desperately want to “claim” for their own.

³ Yes, I realize not every fantasy world has a map or even needs a map. And there are Romantasy novels with gorgeous maps. But we get to the protocols again, and how to read this book. And I think, although it is coming here in a footnote, that to read Romantasy, one MUST read and accept the fusion of both protocols and that not all the check boxes are going to be checked.  Or perhaps Romantasy is a spectrum, with more or less elements of fantasy and romance between various novels, authors and series. Or is Romantasy, like I sometimes think of Horror, more of a mode or color and not a subgenre at all? Is it a polder, a boundary land?  I am sure people with far more credentials than I are going to explore this in coming years, and it should. 

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Book Review: The Gryphon King by Sara Omer

A monster-filled secondary-world fantasy that takes its cues and worldbuilding inspirations from points east of the Bosporus Strait

In a world of Khans and khanates, opulent city states and dreaming complacent kingdoms, Sara Omer’s The Gryphon King revolves around the driven desires of Bataar, the man who would be the titular Gryphon King as his ambitions and desires run up against a kingdom and its formidable women. One of them, Nohra, has worked hard to be one of the Harpy Knights, given one of the powerful weapons of her kingdom; and she rides and cares for her carnivorous pegasus, Mercy. Quite frankly, Nohra would rather be flying and defending the throne. But when Bataar shockingly and suddenly conquers her kingdom of Dumakra as part of his very successful campaign for universal conquest of the continent, Nohra finds herself nearly a hostage in the palace, a Harpy Knight chained to the whims of the Steppe Conqueror. She is definitely interested in getting rid of Bataar and restoring her homeland. But in the midst of courtly politics, intrigue and trying to walk a fine line with Bataar, strange things have been happening in the Kingdom. Monsters are afoot… and not just the titular Gryphons, either. Nohra and Bataar find themselves the unlikeliest of reluctant allies.

This is how the novel thus unfolds:

We have an interesting set of flawed characters, with secrets, lies, and hidden agendas, drawn into uneasy alliances and conflicts. Bataar and Nohra are our sole point-of-view characters, except for a chapter at the end featuring a character about whom any talk is extremely spoilery, so I will leave them out of the discussion. In addition to the monsters, I wonder whether this character is more of a central axis of the novel and the trilogy than one might first expect. Bataar, despite being a capable warlord, a cunning strategist, and a clever ruler, is arrogant, and way too often puts himself right in the front line of danger. Nohra, despite being a Harpy Knight, has some rather large blind spots, and she is sometimes overfocused on her goals and misses the bigger picture. Qaira, Bataar’s wife and political right hand, seems to have scheming plans of her own that neither Bataar nor Nohra suspect. Other intrigues fill out the narrative. Having conquered Dumakra, Bataar has set himself a whole host of headaches. This provides plenty of drama for the reader in between the more bloody conflicts.

What I really want to talk about, of course, if you have read any of my reviews, is the worldbuilding and the structure of the book. This is epic fantasy, clear to the vein, but there are notes of grimdark and darker fantasy in here. One of the comps given in the promo kit is Hannah Kaner’s Godkiller, and I think that is a good book to tie this to. It’s not full-on grimdark, even if, as noted above, we have a whole raft of flawed characters whose motivations, secrets and desires leave us with no clear white and black hats. It’s definitely taking notes from grimdark, showing the influence of that subgenre on the main body of epic fantasy. The courtly intrigue and very rich worldbuilding put me in the mind of a more straightforward Jenn Lyons. No footnotes, and playing with reference and metafiction, but keep the very rich empire and complicated characters. Samantha Shannon, in The Priory of the Orange Tree mode, also feels like a book and author that has kinship with this one.

But the world itself is what fascinates me. Omer has described herself as taking notes from the Ottoman Empire, and there is definitely the courtly intrigue, including among wives and concubines, that you’d find in, say, Magnificent Century.¹ Also the decor, the social relations, the descriptions of palaces and spaces, all point to, as I said above, cultural and social touchstones east of the Bosporus, toward Anatolia, Armenia, Persia and Central Asia. The physiogeographic setup of the continent is varied, ranging from the steppe that Bataar comes from to the dry desert realm that dominates Dumakra, and high mountains as well. There is a map, but I admit that I have strong questions about the river setup on the map and the geology of the continent as a result.

But returning to the cultural worldbuilding: I think, especially with Bataar and his steppe origins, the feeling I kept getting was not the Ottomans at all, but rather Timur the Lame. Tamerlane was a Turkic-Mongol warlord of the 14th century. Born on the steppe, like Bataar, he was injured at a young age, again, like Bataar. Tamerlane got the steppe tribes to unite under him to go on campaign. Same with Bataar, although that part of his story gets skipped over; we go from his formative fight with a gryphon to him off conquering.

Tamerlane had a wide set of military victories against a variety of opponents. Bataar seems a little less cruel than Tamerlane (who was very cruel, so don’t be deceived here), but is no less ambitious and expansive, and clearly is “punching above his weight” in taking on polities that he really shouldn’t. Both men want to conquer the world, and Tamerlane did a pretty good job at it, and in the first few chapters until he reaches Dumakra, Bataar is doing an excellent job, and is eager to continue his conquest. Granted, in our world, Tamerlane didn’t have to deal with carnivorous pegasi and worse, but the military genius, the fluidity of his responses, and the determination are all things I see in Bataar.

But yes, going to the fantastic, this novel is full of monsters. The pegasi and gryphons in this world, besides being strong and ferocious with beak and claws, also carry a debilitating and sometimes deadly infection if you are scratched by them. There are aquatic monsters as well, and then there are the ghouls. The ghouls are nasty and dangerous, and remind me of the ghuls in Saladin Ahmed’s Tower of the Crescent Moon. And fittingly, like those, they are found in a set of ruins our main characters camp in—and really, really shouldn’t have. This goes back to the flawed characters, and how Omer effectively uses their weaknesses to help drive the plot, again and again. They might be competent, strong and talented, but they have feet of clay.

There is definitely magic and mayhem (and even a hint of Gunpowder Empire) to the magic and the weapons that the Harpy Knights wield, as well as other magical items that show up. Omer is tapping into cultural touchstones that have rarely gotten play as the center. Places like Dumakra and the Steppe of Bataar’s homeland have, if they have been shown on screen in fantasy novels, often been places visited rather than the focus. And when we do see Southwestern Asian fantasy, it’s often been hundreds of years before, in the Caliphate, rather than the Timurid and Ottoman Empires. The Mughals, a couple of centuries ahead, and some distance east, seem to be also finally getting their due as inspiration for cultures, societies, characters, and worldbuilding. There is a rich vein here that Omer is mining for plenty of untapped potential. I find it interesting that her “Europe” analogue, Aglea, is off screen to the far north of the map. Omer is exactly inverting the tropes of the Great Wall of Europe by having the “Europeans” be the area only seen on a map and of much lesser importance.

There is one other thing I want to mention about The Gryphon King, which you may have picked up on already. The book is neither marketed as, nor actually is, the hot new invented category of romantasy. It’s firmly and apologetically widescreen secondary-world fantasy, and while there are all sorts of dynastic and court politics, schemes of succession and ownership based on marriage alliances, concubinages and the like, this novel does not fit in the romantasy category in the least. Just to make sure, since I seem to see every fantasy novel written by a woman labeled as “romantasy” these days, I looked back at the publicity for the book. It is, in fact, not. That is not to say that there isn’t a loving and clever marriage in here, as well as characters plotting for such marriages, and various characters finding each other attractive. But the focus of the novel is on more sociopolitical relationships, and sibling relationships, and, of course, the monsters.

If you want courtly intrigue, adventure, politics, and a large helping of man-eating monsters, based on Medieval Southwestern Asian motifs and cultural touchstones, The Gryphon King is definitely for you. It’s the first book in a series, and it only comes to a stopping point, but with a very appropriate hinge. I look forward to more in Omer’s world and characters.

Highlights:

• #teamgryphon
• Strong use of Southwest Asia as inspiration for setting and character detail
• NOT romantasy: epic fantasy with notes of grimdark and plenty of intrigue
• Richly written, with an excellent eye for detail

Reference: Omer, Sara. The Gryphon King [Titan Books, 2025].

¹ A Turkish TV historical drama that tells the story of Suleiman the Magnificent, Ottoman ruler, and his wife Hurrem, former slave girl. I came across this show last year by complete accident (someone in a seat in a plane in front of me was watching it, I took a screenshot and eventually figured it out). It's hugely popular in the Middle East but much less well known here. Which, frankly, if Netflix or the like got wind of it, an American version would come out, yesterday. Complicated, crafty and fascinating.  Think of it as I, Claudius, except for Suleiman, and you're there.

POSTED BY: Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I'm just this guy, you know? @princejvstin