Book Review: Freeset by Sarina Dahlan

The sequel to Reset continues the story of the post-apocalyptic world of the Four Cities

Sarina Dahlan’s Reset and its prequel Preset depict the post-apocalyptic world of the Four Cities, seemingly the only surviving remnant of humanity. Through the eyes of the original founder Eli, the hidden “Crone” Eleanor, and artists/lovers Aris and Metis, humans grew and tried to transcend the “reset” of Tabula Rasa that every four years wipes out the memories of nearly everyone.

Freeset continues and completes the story of Eli, Eleanor, Metis, Aris, and the Four Cities.

The first book, Reset, was at its heart a love story. Not just between Aris and Metis, the main characters caught in the inevitability of the quadrennial cycle of the memory-erasing Tabula Rasa, but also between Eli, the planner and creator of the four cities, and Eleanor, his secret (as far as most people are concerned) co-creator. Eleanor is in a sense the serpent in the dystopian garden, providing and offering methods for people to, if not break free of the cycle, at least have memories of their previous 4-year lives. It’s a story about the testament and power of love.

Preset takes love in a different direction as we see, two centuries earlier, the love of trying to save humanity, itself the driving force in a novel that shows the early life of Eli and Eleanor. We get to see how the Four Cities came to be after the disastrous fall of the old order. It’s a much less hopeful book than the first, a darker tone spread across two timeframes: the fall itself, and the foundation of the cities.

Freeset, this new novel, picks up the story as a true sequel to Reset. Freeset decides to do something different: to its strength, and to its weakness, this third and final novel in the sequence decides to deeply explore its society in a way we didn’t see in Preset (since that is a story of the founding of the cities) or Reset (because of its strong focus on the relationships driving the city more than on the technology). And to an extent, Freeset does try to capture that dynamic by showing the strength and endurance of the bonds between the four characters.

Where Freeset differs is in explaining and showing a fair amount of the underpinnings of the dystopia that we saw built in Preset and saw in full in Reset. I think there is a potential weakness in showing and explaining too much of a dystopia, and I think that this novel shows the perils of doing so. This goes to the whole idea of worldbuilding, the shared delusion, and what is shown and not shown in a story. One cannot completely capture the complexity of a world, for we cannot even understand the complexity of the one we have here, much less one in a novel. And in many ways, depicting a dystopia requires a careful hand to let the reader fill in blanks and details, and so avoid raising obvious questions.

In Freeset, I think, Dahlan doesn’t quite strike that balance. In Reset, we focus on the relationships and in a very general way discuss the mechanics of Tabula Rasa and the superstructure of the repressive state that Eli the Planner has made. Those are all background to the story of Aris and Metis, and between Eli and his longtime partner Eleanor. Here, though, the nitty-gritty of the state is laid bare in two tentpoles that drive the narrative.

First is the police force, and the tactics and people that compose it. This focuses primarily on Scylla (a menacing name, noting that Dahlan is good at names), who is hunting Dreamers (the rebels of the first book) and Eleanor, Eli’s former wife. Scylla starts as a Javert-like character, determined to do his best in his duty. He is in a real sense a viewpoint character for the reader who might be skeptical of the rebellion and those trying to escape Tabula Rasa, but slowly starts to see the injustice in the system, and in his own heart as well.

Apollina, his counterpart, is a much harsher character. As a Dream Interpreter, she is even closer to Eli and his inner circle, an intimate part of how his repressive regime actually works. Even more than Scylla, Apollina’s intimate use of dreams on Metis is central to Eli’s plans, and is insidious and shows the evil that is at the heart of Eli’s world. Eli may have created the Four Cities as a refuge for humanity and guided them over the last 200 years, but he has turned it into a prison, and Apollina is the character who shows that.

The second tentpole is the CDL and the Matres. Focused as I was (thanks to Dahlan’s writing), I did not consider or stop to think in Reset an essential question: Where do children come from in this society? In Freeset, Dahlan decides to answer that by having a separate, nearly autonomous microcity far away from the four, called the CDL. The CDL is a crèche where children are raised under the watchful eyes of a set of clone sisters, the Matres. We get to meet several of the Matres, and some of the students as well, as the repression and plans of Eli reach and change their world, as do unexpected visitors.

And while I found the story of the students of the CDL and the capriciousness of their lives and their attempts to escape their fate compelling, it felt a little like well-trodden ground. I did like Cass and Bastian as a younger pair to the other couples in the story. Theirs is not quite the romance of the older couples, but the impending potential tragedy of them being separated and wanting to fight it is definitely on sharp thematic point with the rest of Dahlan’s oeuvre. There are strong emotional beats here that Dahlan plays quite wonderfully.

The real problem, though, is that the more Dahlan kept adding these elements to her world, the more rickety and less plausible it seemed to become. In order for Matres to be effective, for example, they are not subject to Tabula Rasa, so that they can raise children from birth to the time they are sent into the Four Cities or college (and then the Four Cities) after having their memories wiped. Other aspects of the repressive state are put in stark relief and shown, but the cracks in the worldbuilding began to show for me. This is a world where a lot of species have died (mushrooms are a big part of the diet) and yet there are some oddities that exist, like tea and coffee. Where are they being grown, exactly? And if the wipeout of higher species is that complete, I have questions about the stability of the ecosystem, no matter how controlled by the Planner, Eli. This goes to the showing too much of a dystopia problem that I mentioned before. Food webs and ecosystems are extremely complicated and interdependent and the lack of one is devastating. As much as I have a hard time engaging with the premise, this goes right to Kim Stanley Robinson’s Aurora, which shows this problem in stark relief on his generation ship.

And tonally, I think a focus on the repression and the dark tones of the Four Cities vastly changes the look and feel of the first book (and to an extent the prequel) in a way I feel conflicted about. Reset is a very poetic book that focuses on a relationship in a dystopia, an attempt at how love can try and transcend the strongest of boundaries (even if it is not Amor Vincit Omnia). The use of the John Lennon’s song “Imagine” in that first book, for example, gives it a poetic feel that is somewhat lacking here. It doesn’t quite reach the heights of the first book, although it does try. It tries to reach for that same Amor Vincit Omnia, but doesn't get there.

The presentation of Freeset is a much more practical and less poetic feel to the dystopia that the Four Cities represented, and while that dystopia was always there, in this book, set in sharp relief, it loses some of the magic and uniqueness that made Reset so powerful for me. A totalitarian police force using drugs, dream control, drones, and other equipment? Training of children from birth? Ever tightening security and surveillance? A ruler becoming increasingly obsessed and paranoid? You probably have read this before. The problem is, within the bounds of Freeset itself, there isn’t enough distinction here to really engage me as a reader. The CDL is interesting, certainly, and its location, once revealed, is a landscape I do need to visit with my camera. But the narrower focus on the CDL and on the police takes away the uniqueness of the Four Cities as a location and an idea, and I think that ultimately weakens the book.

However, I will say that, even if the worldbuilding showed problems by overexplaining, and I had issues with the tone, the writing of the book retains the high line-by-line quality of Reset and Preset. Dahlan is an engaging, immersive author whose prose brings the characters’ emotional states firmly into the reader’s mind. I have not listened to the audio versions of this or the other books in the series, but given the publisher (Blackstone) and the emotional quality of Dahlan’s writing, I think this is the kind of book that maybe isn’t suited for a long car trip, but definitely one to listen to once you’ve reached your hotel room and want to get immersed.

In the end, while Reset was extraordinary, and Preset well written, Freeset turns out to be something of a disappointment for me. It is very possible that if you do like dystopias, this is going to be something you enjoy, particularly since this is not entirely the usual “young people in a YA-adjacent dystopia” novel in the model of The Hunger Games. Eli and Eleanor, Aris and Metis, and the other characters outside of the CDL are definitely not in that mold (even if one might argue that the concept of Tabula Rasa might be a way to stunt emotional growth). I don’t think there is quite enough here for me to unabashedly recommend it.

I will, however, be curious, now that the Four Cities are behind Dahlan, what new vistas and ideas she will seek to write about.

Highlights:

• Interesting ideas for a dystopia that is not the usual YA

• Strong emotional beats and themes

• Poetic and emotionally moving writing

Reference: Dahlan, Sarina. Freeset [Blackstone, 2024].

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

Book Review: So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole

A YA, Jamaican-inspired, dragon-filled fantasy dealing with friendship, family, and cultural clashes. 

The premise of Kamilah Cole’s YA fantasy So Let Them Burn had my attention as soon as I read the description: Jamaican-inspired; dragons; sisters. As a Jamaican-born, old school nerd who devoured Anne McCaffery as a teen, this story seemed tailor made for me. But I have been disappointed by seemingly perfect stories before. Fortunately, So Let Them Burn is an enjoyable page-turner filled with likeable characters and engaging Jamaican references.

The island nation of San Irie had been struggling under the suffocating and violent colonialist rule of the oppressive Langlish Empire. So Let Them Burn opens five years after San Irie’s defeat of the Langlish. The island is now free but still reeling from the devastation of war and wary of the nearby Langlish Empire which still seeks to re-conquer them. The Langlish forces are made up of fearsome dragons and their psychically bonded human dragon riders. The people of San Irie (Iryans) have powerful weapons of their own. They can summon the spirits of their ancestors to help them fight and their military forces use drakes—semi-sentient airships which can defeat dragons. But the biggest weapon is the protagonist Faron, the Childe Empyrean, a teenaged girl who has been granted the power to summon the three Iryan gods: Irie, Mala, and Obie. The novel focuses on Faron, the rebellious, sharp-tongued, reluctant hero who would prefer to footrace and play rather than walk around in her Empyrean robes.

There is a lot of backstory in the set up for the novel but it’s neatly woven into the adventure so it doesn’t slow the rapid pace of the book. During the great war, the Langlish forces killed and maimed thousands while trying to destroy the temples and cities in a quest for something mysterious. Ironically, their defeat was partly brought about by the military commander’s son, Reeve, who became a traitor to aid the Iryan fighters. By stealing his father’s military secrets, he gave the Iryans the boost they need to fully defeat the Langlish. But Reeve’s betrayal comes at a high price for him. He must now live in exile, hated by the people he helped save (because he represents the murderous race who attacked the island) and despised by his home country who views him as a traitor. His only allies are Faron’s strong but kind sister Elara; Aveline, the young queen of the island; and a few of the locals who take him into their household as a foster child.  

All of this happens before the book begins. At times, it feels like we are joining the adventure midway because of the complicated but fascinating set up. The history is so interesting that I wish we had some of that backstory on the page, even if just in a prologue. The passing references to Faron becoming the nation’s savior at age twelve or Reeve betraying his parents to help the Iryans, are worth more than a footnote. When the novel begins, those twelve year-old heroes are now seventeen, looking back on their past choices with more tiredness than pride.

The main plot of the book starts with the Iryan queen’s peace summit on San Irie attended by various nations including the enemy Langlish. In violation of the intent of the summit, the Langlish bring dragons, who are parked on a nearby isle. When one of the dragons gets loose, Faron’s sister Elara unexpectedly bonds with it and with the dragon’s lead rider, Signey. Faron is able to draw on an unknown astral power to control the chaos. However, the dragon’s psychic bonding with Elara is irreversible, so the Langlish commander proposes that Elara move to Langley to learn dragon riding. No Iryan has ever bonded with a dragon and the turn of events means Elara must leave her home country and live with the enemy. Knowing the situation is probably a scheme by the Langlish, the young queen Aveline decides to use Elara as a spy, which Elara readily accepts. However, Faron is furious about her sister’s departure and reluctantly decides to work with Reeve (who she dislikes) to find a way to free Elara from the bond. While Reeve wears himself out in research, Faron secretly connects with a sinister force to get what she needs. Meanwhile Elara gradually builds a friendship with her dragon, her fellow riders, and particularly her co-rider Signey to whom she grows attracted.

So Let Them Burn delves unexpectedly into toxic love.  Reeve’s cruel parents go to terrible extremes to save the son who ultimately turns against them. Faron’s love for her sister is unrelentingly intense. Both Elara and Reeve are victims of oppressive acts of love that have been forced on them with devastating results.

The ensuing adventure is a page-turner that’s hard to put down, especially with the appealing references to elements of Jamaican culture including patois, dancehall music, and food like breadfruit, saltfish, and guinep. However, I miss the days when a YA fantasy novel would tell a complete story and leave just enough room for a sequel. So Let Them Burn is the opening act of a larger story. But the addictive pace, likeable characters, and appealing references to nuances of Jamaican culture ultimately make this journey worthwhile.

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The Math

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

Highlights:

• Jamaican-inspired references
• Toxic family relationships
• Page turning, dragon-riding fun

Reference: Kamilah Cole, So Let Them Burn [Little Brown Book Group, 2024]

POSTED BY: Ann Michelle Harris – Multitasking, fiction writing Trekkie currently dreaming of her next beach vacation.  

 

Review: The Road to Roswell by Connie Willis

A first contact with a place we’ve seen many times before

I think we’re at a point when even making fun of Roswell conspiracy theories is itself a cliche, so tired and worn that little town in New Mexico has become in the years since what is in all likelihood a weather balloon crashed there in 1947 (even if it was several miles out of town and closer to nearby Corona—it becomes almost a supernatural version of Tours/Poitiers or Bull Run/Manassas). It is, most often, a reminder of how far science fiction has come, both in and of itself and within the broader constellation of American culture. It is consigned to the great storage room of our genre’s past, looked at in amusement and wistfulness on occasion, but rarely taken out and displayed to the world in its own right, and never entirely thrown away as we want to keep some sense of the past (I’m tempted to compare this tendency to the Cairo Genizah, although nothing so literally sacred is involved). However, Connie Willis has taken Roswell out for a spin once again, in her 2023 novel The Road to Roswell.

Your protagonist is Francie, a reasonable, normal American thirty-something woman (I’m guessing the age here but it strikes me as plausible) who is going to her friend’s wedding. This friend has had a long string of peculiar boyfriends, many of whom have been conspiracy theorists or other whackos of that general nature. Francie had thought that her friend was finally going to settle down with a normal, well-adjusted man who happened to like the desert, hence the wedding being in that famous town in New Mexico. Hoping against hope that it is mere coincidence that the annual alien festival is in town, she is disappointed to learn that, no, her fiancé is yet another conspiracy theorist. Francie accepts she’ll grin and bear it, eventually, after trying to talk her dear old college friend out of it, but the wedding is in the UFO museum. Francie goes out to her friend’s car to get some festive lighting, and is stunned to find in that car not only the lighting, but an actual, living, honest-to-God alien.

What follows over the next four hundred-ish pages is a delightfully weird, thoroughly entertaining road trip story through the odder side of Americana, blended with 1950s-style alien abduction story, and sprinkled with classic Western films for seasoning. This is a book of many genres, and Willis handles it all dexterously, as if spinning plates on sticks, never dropping them, never even letting them wobble.

Francie is the perfect sort of protagonist for this wacky and wonderful story. She is deeply, profoundly normal—not normal for science fiction fans, normal for the American mainline culture (at least that of the educated class). She isn’t too keyed into all the science fiction tropes that Willis is playing with. Some stories have protagonists who approach the weirdness of their worlds with a certain familiarity, a sort of self-insert for the people who write science fiction. Not so here. Francie only has familiarity with any of this through osmosis, through the most popular, mainstream speculative fiction, and as such sees all this with not exasperation but with genuine bewilderment, not unlike the protagonists of those old 1950s films. In this way, Willis makes all this old stuff new again, and sees how it works.

The vastness of the American West plays a role here. To those of us in cities, such massive expanses feel spectacularly alien (perhaps this is why they have so often been the sets for science fiction movies, then and now). It is here Willis makes both humans and nonhumans feel equally alien to one another. It is this particular juxtaposition of character and setting where a truck stop feels bizarre and the glittering Las Vegas strip feels like something from another planet.

There’s also a large engagement with the Western genre, although in a way that is hard to discuss without ruining the magnificent experience of letting the reader find out for themselves. This alien is being introduced to America, in all its peculiarities and foibles (but nothing much more grave than that, being a relatively light-hearted work), and it is bemused, as many foreigners are. This fish out of water is flung into the frontier mythos, and misinterprets things through that lens, to comical and profound effect. I’m not sure whether Frederick Jackson Turner would be proud, but he would certainly have some thoughts, quite possibly strong ones.

And another point that is hard to discuss without spoiling: the nature of the alien. This is a very interesting creature, on Earth for interesting reasons, and one who learns to communicate in interesting ways. It is this special form of communication that interacts with this panoramic West in ways that drive the plot forward, leaving what may once have been trite feeling fresh and new. This is helped by Willis providing it with interesting characters, Francie foremost but by no means alone, to play off of.

There are only a few defects. One is a relationship between two characters resolving in the end in a way that felt oddly rushed (there’s another such example, which feels out of nowhere, but very in character, so I was fine with it). The other big one is a throwaway reference to Native Americans and their tangential role in the plot (and I mean very tangential) that felt rather othering in that old SF way. One could object to a sanitized portrayal of the American West here, those indigenous to that land most of all, but that runs into problems of tone that I’m not sure could be elegantly squared.

While those missteps should be acknowledged, The Road to Roswell is a fun read. It’s the sort of science fiction that reminds us why we fell in love with the genre in the first place, and more broadly, perhaps more importantly, shows us why our ancestors fell in love with it. This is a novel that unrepentantly dusts off old tropes and takes them for a spin. I encourage you to enjoy the ride.

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10.

POSTED BY: Alex Wallace, alternate history buff who reads more than is healthy.

Reference: Willis, Connie. The Road to Roswell [Del Rey, 2023].

Microreview [novel]: Viscera by Gabriel Squailia

An incredibly visceral (naturally) fantasy adventure. 

I can honestly say that Viscera isn't quite like anything I've read before. Which is to say, I'm not sure what I was expecting when I picked up the book. A thrilling fantasy adventure to prevent a great atrocity from being committed? Well…there's a bit that here, yes. The story is fast and full of magic both blindingly bright and disturbingly dark, with a plot that dances along a razor's edge and characters drawn with compassion, nuance, and plenty of wit. But this isn't a conventional fantasy adventure. In fact, conventional is about the last thing I would call this novel. Instead, what's here is breathtaking in its originality, its innovation, and its wicked fun. As the title implies, it is a visceral experience that doesn't shy away from blood and guts and, well, just about anything.

The plot follows a number of characters, and it is with its cast that I feel the best work is done. Not that the setting or plot or suspense or action isn't well done. It is. But the novel manages to capture with its cast san assortment of people struggling with the world they are forced to live in. Each person is both running from a past full of pain and grief and running toward a future where they might be allowed to hope and have some measure of peace. For Rafe, one of the viewpoint characters, it means running away from a family that misgendered him and a city that has taken the one person he cared for most away. It means living daily with the threat of discovery and violence. He starts the book and the future only stretches so far as the next hit, the next high, as he's become addicted to a powerful drug. As the book progresses, though, the future begins to open up again, bringing with it the chance at healing and wholeness. For Ashlan, the other primary viewpoint character and an immortal being who seems able to heal from any wound, it means running from the passions and hopes of her past and toward the promise of oblivion.

It might be obvious by now that this is not the cheeriest of stories, though I will say it maintains a delightful dry humor throughout and a good dose of weirdness. When you have one of the characters being a murderous puppet animated by magical intestines and bent on revenge, and another a woman who travels with a stitched-together undead bear, things are kept very interesting. But there is a darkness that pervades the setting and the characters, and it's a darkness that is important right now. Because this story recognizes the shape of history and explores it through this fantastical lens. It's something that becomes more and more clear as the different characters are revealed, each from different points in time. Ashlan is the oldest, and has seen the most, and in many ways seems to me to be exhausted by the way that history never seems to change or get better. That there's always another atrocity waiting, another tyrant that will rise. And Rafe is the youngest of the characters, but even so he's disillusioned by the world around him, bears the scars of other people's hatred and intolerance. In between you see that there have been times in the city where queer and trans people have been accepted, where there was peace, but it didn't last. If there's a cycle at work here, it's one that begins and ends in violence and intolerance.

There's an idea out there that history leans toward progress. It's something that's been shared a lot in the current landscape. But I don't really believe that. Or at least, I think progress is a loaded term. It's a way of saying that now is the best time. That we are the best people. The most enlightened. And I love that this novel shatters that idea. That it asks "progress for who?" Who is better off now, when these people face constant harassment and violence? And I love even more that the novel doesn't stop there. Because this is a beautifully hopeful and uplifting novel, for all that it explores trauma and violence. It seems to see the damage being done and doesn't rely on some historical perspective to make things better. Instead, it shows the power of people helping people. If the future is to lean toward progress, then it's going to take a great many people pushing it in that direction. For Rafe, for Ashlan, for the people of the novel—it's not about just surviving. It's about taking an active stance. It's about trying, even when it seems like it's hopeless. It's about having the guts to keep reaching not for progress but for compassion and empathy.

Are you looking for a fantasy novel with a vivid and bloody setting and a sly, haunting mood? Are you hungry for a book with righteously queer and trans characters dealing with trauma and loss, hope and resistance? Do you yearn to read about an adventuring party made up of two drug addicted fortune-worshipers, a pacifist immortal, a murderous puppet, and a witch with her zombie-bear butler? Then read this novel. It's amazing.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 8/10

Bonuses: +1 for zombie-bear butler. +1 for maintaining hope even in the face of some heavy and haunting material

Negatives: -1 because MOAR zombie-bear butler plz!!!

Nerd Coefficient: 9/10 "Exceptional!" see our full rating system here.

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POSTED BY: Charles, avid reader, reviewer, and sometimes writer of speculative fiction. Contributor to Nerds of a Feather since 2014.

Reference: Squailia, Gabriel. Viscera [Talos, 2016]

Microreview [novel]: Certain Dark Things by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Edward who?

Vampires. If you look at the roots of SFF, there they are, firmly tucked into the same literary movement as Frankenstein and other pivotal works of supernatural storytelling. And going further back, stories of creatures that feed on human blood or tissue are widespread. Not universal, but about as close as stories come. They represent a core fear of humanity. Of the night. Of the Other. Of hunger. In popular SFF, vampires haven't lost their appeal. From Dracula to Twilight, Lestat to the world of Anita Blake, vampires are still alive and well...er, undead and well. And Certain Dark Things by Silvia Moreno-Garcia takes the mythology of a dozen different vampire legends and merges them into a thrilling, slightly romantic, incredibly gritty adventure through an alternate Mexico City.

The story flits between a number of characters as they move about their lives and their missions in Mexico. And all of them, from the vampires to the humans, navigate hunger. For me, it's hunger that is central to the novel, and perhaps not surprising given it features vampires, who are often depicted as slaves to their hungers. To the need to feed on blood. But it's more than just the hunger for blood that drives the narrative. It's the hunger of safety, and for love, that really push everyone forward. For Domingo, who lives a life lacking safety and lacking much agency, it's his hunger for power. For companionship. He meets Atl, a vampire on the run from a rival gang, and immediately is drawn to her. Wants her. The hunger is sexual, yes, but it's also deeper than that. She feeds what he's hungry for—a sense of purpose and power and magic. He's grown up on vampire comic books and in Atl he finds a way to be a part of a story, to not only be a victim.

For Atl the hungers are more complicated. She has the hunger for blood, but she also hungers for revenge and for punishment. Both against those who have wronged her, who are hunting her, and against herself. Her guilt and shame and growth throughout the novel show how her hunger shapes her and sharpens her. How her relationship with Domingo feeds and nurtures a part of her that wants more than blood. That wants compassion and acceptance. But, just like with blood, that hunger takes on a certain addictive quality, where she must find and define herself not by contentment, but by lack. That it is the hunger that keeps her sharp and she needs to be sharp if she is to cut free of the nets dragging her down.

And so for me the novel is one that very much examines the setting. Examines this Mexico City where hunger is a living thing. That even without vampires it is full of things that drain people. Burdens passed down by the government, by the gangs, by the corruption that seems to infiltrate every level of the city, from the richest to the poorest. The character of Ana, a police detective who really only wants her daughter to live free and safe, embodies an interesting mirror to Atl. Both are running from vampires, Ana trying to put behind her days as a cop with a good track record of killing them in the hopes of getting away from the violence. Ana's drive is away from hunger. She wants to see her daughter not free from the system, but a beneficiary of it. But in order to break her daughter free she has to work with the system. Has to prop it up. And in doing she becomes entangled in the violent corruption at its heart.

As I said earlier, the book is both thrilling and romantic. But it's certainly not the brand of romance that many might be used to from vampire novels. The story does deal with domination and power imbalance, but not in a way that romanticizes abuse. The relationship between Domingo and Atl is complicated and rather dark. Indeed, if the title of the novel didn't clue you in, the entire piece is dark. From the setting to the situation to the execution, this story looks at some very uncomfortable things—violence and oppression, betrayal and loss of autonomy. For people looking for the standard Happily Ever After...well, maybe look elsewhere. This is both a source of great complexity in the book (especially with where the story leaves Atl and Domingo) and a source of some disappointment for me personally (especially with where the story led and leaves Ana).

That's not to say that the story doesn't treat with hope. Indeed, the story brilliantly brings Domingo and Atl to a place where they must look at their agency and their potential and what is better for them as people. Maybe not what will make them happier, but it seems pointed that the novel takes a stand against the idea that romantic fulfillment is the most important fulfillment. Especially in the face of Domingo's softer personality, the story plays with the expectation that he be rewarded for his actions. [SPOILERS...if I haven't already] In essence, Domingo remains not a complete shit throughout the novel. He doesn't really try to physically assault Atl and he obviously cares about her. But the novel doesn't view this as anything special. And certainly not as deserving Atl to give up her potential and who she is so that she can validate what a good guy he is. Which then confronts the reader, or at least confronted me, with my expectations. Which is a very nice twist.

And in the end the novel does a lot right. It's a fascinating deconstruction of the vampire romance that builds up an interesting and unique world and some amazing characters. I was a little bummed that I didn't get to see more of the setting, more the vampire sub-species, but what's here is fleshed out well (heh). If you're looking for a rather romantic read that still manages to crush about every trope from vampire romances, this is the book for you. If you're looking for blood and death and awesome genetically modified dobermans, this is the book for you. If you're looking for a nuanced examination of hunger and longing, corruption and hope, this is the book for you. Go read it.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 8/10

Bonuses: +1 for Bernardino, because yes; +1 for not giving me what I wanted with the ending

Negatives: -1 for what happens to Ana; -1 for not giving me what I wanted with the ending (I'm impossible to please!)

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10 "Well worth your time and attention!" see our full rating system here.

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POSTED BY: Charles, avid reader, reviewer, and sometimes writer of speculative fiction. Contributor to Nerds of a Feather since 2014.

Reference: Moreno-Garcia, Silvia. Certain Dark Things [Thomas Dunne, 2016]

ESSENTIALS: 24 SF/F Books That Have Shaped Me

I feel quite strange writing an "essential" list of sci fi and fantasy books. Because I will never feel like I will have read enough to be an expert on anything. But I try to read a lot. And I try to read deeply. And I have opinions. Which I guess makes me as expert as most who claim at the title. So I will attempt to do my best.

This list will probably change in a year. Hell, it will probably shift and flow from year to year as long as I'm alive and reading. Why? Because I truly believe that right now is seeing some of the most amazing books come out that have ever been written in SFF. Which, you'll notice that a lot of these books are somewhat recent. I'd still consider them essential. They have been, at least, essential to defining my own relationship with SFF. They have been essential in showing me where I fit in and what I love. Reading some of these books has provided me with rather transformational moments in my life. To me, that is the definition of essential, because these books have been vital in helping me to try and better figure myself out.

You might also notice that I have the "Book" part of this list to mean more than just "novel." There are graphic novels and there are short story collections and there are anthologies of various sorts and even a book of poetry. I did not want to make a list that narrowed itself to the point of not being meaningful to me. This is my list of essential SFF books, and so there is YA alongside erotica alongside comics alongside romance alongside more classic interpretations of sci fi and fantasy. I consider these all to be SFF, and for those who want to see the true width and depth of what SFF can be, moving outside the largely single-dimension of traditional SFF publications is, again, essential.

So here we go, on a voyage of discovery and wonder. Hold onto something…

Johnson, Alaya Dawn. The Summer Prince [Arthur A. Levine, 2013]

"A heart-stopping story of love, death, technology, and art set amid the tropics of a futuristic Brazil.

The lush city of Palmares Tres shimmers with tech and tradition, with screaming gossip casters and practiced politicians. In the midst of this vibrant metropolis, June Costa creates art that's sure to make her legendary. But her dreams of fame become something more when she meets Enki, the bold new Summer King. The whole city falls in love with him (including June's best friend, Gil). But June sees more to Enki than amber eyes and a lethal samba. She sees a fellow artist." (Goodreads)

There are novels on this list that inspire me and novels that break me, and this falls solidly into both categories. It's marked YA to many but it doesn't stop it from being one of the best post-apocalyptic novels I've read, with statements on art and sexuality and love and age. It's a stunning book and definitely a must-read. (my review)

Smut Peddler: 2012 Edition [Iron Circus Comics, 2012]

"Indie comics' most sex-positive, lady-friendly, dirty little mini is back as a FULL-SIZED ANTHOLOGY!" (Goodreads)

The first of the graphic novels on this list is, well, quite graphic. But it is also a celebration of genre and sex and art. It is amazing and amazingly sexy, with stories that are overwhelmingly (though not exclusively) SFF, from sex in space to contemporary fantasy to stranger settings still, it blends erotic art with stories that challenge dominant sexual fantasies and affirm those who find themselves on the outside looking in. (my review)

LeGuin, Ursula K. The Dispossessed [Avon, 1975]

"Shevek, a brilliant physicist, decides to take action. he will seek answers, question the unquestionable, and attempt to tear down the walls of hatred that have isolated his planet of anarchists from the rest of the civilized universe. To do this dangerous task will mean giving up his family and possibly his life. Shevek must make the unprecedented journey to the utopian mother planet, Anarres, to challenge the complex structures of life and living, and ignite the fires of change." (Goodreads)

This is definitely my favorite of LeGuin's novels, a book that takes aim at capitalism and the myths surrounding cooperation and socialism. There is so much going on in this novel, and despite being one of the older works on this list it's still a great piece for thinking about social structure and optimism and progress. (my review)

Bowes, Richard. Minions of the Moon [Tor, 1998]

"Kevin Grierson has a Shadow with a mind of its own. It likes thrills, it likes power, it likes the rush of drugs and danger. From the suburbs of Boston to the streets of New York, from the false glamour of advertising to the dark glamour of hustling and drug-dealing. Grierson's Shadow keeps him walking the edge of destruction and madness. Then a simple robbery goes horribly wrong. With the help of a flawed saint named Leo Dunn, Grierson struggles to banish his Shadow, and succeeds. Temporarily. Years later, sober and settled, at peace with his world, Kevin Grierson meets his Shadow again. And this time it won't go away. This new edition of the Lambda Literary Award-winning novel includes a brand-new Grierson story." (Goodreads)

One of my most recent reads and a novel that absolutely wrecked me. A moving and beautiful story about a man dealing with inheritance and shadows and a world that is actively trying to do him harm. There are moments of this book where I had to set it down and just breathe, and there are moments when I couldn't help but cheer. It was a difficult experience for me, to be sure, but also an amazing, amazing read. (my review)

Arnason, Eleanor. To the Resurrection Station [Avon, 1986]

"It began like any other day....

Until Belinda Smith was abruptly snatched from the comforting surroundings of university life by her mysterious guardian and imprisoned in the solitary confines of Gorwing Keep. Suddenly, she was the reluctant heiress to her planets' largest fortune---and the unwilling bride-to-be of an alien prince.

But fate had still more surprises in store for the young woman. And soon Belinda, her unwanted fiancee, and a battered old robot would find themselves fleeing across the galaxy in search of a new life. Their destination: a real-life fountain of youth, found in only one spot in the entire universe... The fabled planet Earth... and its legendary resurrection station." (Goodreads)

This is another example of classic SF done so incredibly right. It moves between planets, between genres, with a queer main character and an incredible ensemble. There's a strong touch of humor, too, and a great metaphor for the viral nature of change and progress. This novel truly surprised me, because by the cover art I was expecting something wholly different. This is a gem and worth digging back to uncover. (my review)

Older, Daniel José. Shadowshaper [Arthur A. Levine, 2015]

"Cassandra Clare meets Caribbean legend in SHADOWSHAPER, an action-packed urban fantasy from a bold new talent.

Sierra Santiago was looking forward to a fun summer of making art, hanging out with her friends, and skating around Brooklyn. But then a weird zombie guy crashes the first party of the season. Sierra's near-comatose abuelo begins to say "No importa" over and over. And when the graffiti murals in Bed-Stuy start to weep.... Well, something stranger than the usual New York mayhem is going on.

Sierra soon discovers a supernatural order called the Shadowshapers, who connect with spirits via paintings, music, and stories. Her grandfather once shared the order's secrets with an anthropologist, Dr. Jonathan Wick, who turned the Caribbean magic to his own foul ends. Now Wick wants to become the ultimate Shadowshaper by killing all the others, one by one. With the help of her friends and the hot graffiti artist Robbie, Sierra must dodge Wick's supernatural creations, harness her own Shadowshaping abilities, and save her family's past, present, and future." (Goodreads)

This is a book I wish existed when I was younger, because I feel that it would have set me on a completely different trajectory as a young reader. Instead of being buoyed into the Tor dude-fantasy stable I think I might have veered more closely to the SFF waters I call home today. This is a great book for any age reader and for me one of the best and most fun books I've read in the last few years. (my review)

We See A Different Frontier: A Postcolonial Speculative Fiction Anthology [The Future Fire, 2013]

"This anthology of speculative fiction stories on the themes of colonialism and cultural imperialism focuses on the viewpoints of the colonized. Sixteen authors share their experiences of being the silent voices in history and on the wrong side of the final frontier; their fantasies of a reality in which straight, cis, able-bodied, rich, anglophone, white males don’t get to tell us how they won every war; their revenge against the alien oppressor settling their “new world”." (Goodreads)

This was actually my first review at Nerds of a Feather and my only perfect score to date. If you're looking to get inspired by short fiction, this anthology has a bit of everything and definitely looks at post-colonial and international SFF in a way that is sharp and inspiring. (my review)

Fantastic Erotica: The Best of Circlet Press 2008-2012 [Circlet, 2012]

"To celebrate the 20th Anniversary of Circlet Press, Fantastic Erotica presents the very best erotic science fiction and fantasy short stories published by Circlet in the past five years. Chosen by popular vote by the readership from among all the stories published by Circlet from 2008 to the present, these favorites are the cream of the crop.

A winner and two runners-up were chosen. N.K. Jemisin's "The Dancer's War" shows us the sensuous magic not of a stock fantasy medieval Europe, but of an Africa that never was. Bernie Mojzes "Ink" combines H.P. Lovecraft and Raymond Chandler into a surprisingly soulful story of sexual transformation. And our winner, "Ota Discovers Fire," by Vinnie Tesla pokes gentle fun at all the traipsing into exotic lands depicted in fantasy quests. Sometimes the traveler you meet on the road is nothing like what you expect." (Goodreads)

You want to read the very best of what speculative erotica has to offer? Read this book. It's full of amazing stories from a great many different genres and styles, all exploring the sexier side of SFF. These stories are at turns fun and poignant, sexy and heartbreaking. And the names involved are pretty much the same that you'd find in any other collection of SFF. Please, anyone go out and read this collection and then try to tell me that erotica can't "count" as SFF. (my review)

Bear, Elizabeth. Karen Memory [Tor, 2015]

"Set in the late 19th century—when the city we now call Seattle Underground was the whole town (and still on the surface), when airships plied the trade routes, would-be gold miners were heading to the gold fields of Alaska, and steam-powered mechanicals stalked the waterfront, Karen is a young woman on her own, is making the best of her orphaned state by working in Madame Damnable's high-quality bordello. Through Karen's eyes we get to know the other girls in the house—a resourceful group—and the poor and the powerful of the town. Trouble erupts one night when a badly injured girl arrives at their door, begging sanctuary, followed by the man who holds her indenture, and who has a machine that can take over anyone's mind and control their actions. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the next night brings a body dumped in their rubbish heap—a streetwalker who has been brutally murdered.

Bear brings alive this Jack-the-Ripper yarn of the old west with a light touch in Karen's own memorable voice, and a mesmerizing evocation of classic steam-powered science." (Goodreads)

Alt-history, sex-positive, steam-Western mystery adventure? Yes, please! This book manages to take a lot of different things and mash them together into an exuberant celebration of genre and identity. There is a huge cast of characters and yet the novel doesn't feel crowded, which is a feat, and it's a fast and fabulous experience from beginning to end. (my review)

Valente, Catherynne M. Radiance [Tor, 2015]

"Severin Unck’s father is a famous director of Gothic romances in an alternate 1986 in which talking movies are still a daring innovation due to the patent-hoarding Edison family. Rebelling against her father’s films of passion, intrigue, and spirits from beyond, Severin starts making documentaries, traveling through space and investigating the levitator cults of Neptune and the lawless saloons of Mars. For this is not our solar system, but one drawn from classic science fiction in which all the planets are inhabited and we travel through space on beautiful rockets. Severin is a realist in a fantastic universe.

But her latest film, which investigates the disappearance of a diving colony on a watery Venus populated by island-sized alien creatures, will be her last. Though her crew limps home to earth and her story is preserved by the colony’s last survivor, Severin will never return." (Goodreads)

Taking a somewhat nostalgic look at solar system science fiction, this novel mixes classic film at the dawn of color and voice and creates an absence at the heart of an ominous and mysterious event. It is told entirely in texts, part documentary and part pulp and part examination of life in front of a camera. Turning an eye at the borders between art and entertainment, truth and fiction, it is a traveler's guide to places that might have been if only the galaxy had lived up to our imaginations. (my review)

Jemisin, N.K. The Killing Moon [Orbit, 2012]

"In the ancient city-state of Gujaareh, peace is the only law. Upon its rooftops and amongst the shadows of its cobbled streets wait the Gatherers - the keepers of this peace. Priests of the dream-goddess, their duty is to harvest the magic of the sleeping mind and use it to heal, soothe - and kill those judged corrupt." (Goodreads)

This book brings all the cool (psychic ninja dream assassins) and stays for the gripping emotional work and political intrigue. The world building is amazing and epic and the character work is intense and personal. I absolutely fell in love with this book and the tragedy and the hope of it, the way that it made me look at what was possible in fantasy in a whole new way. This novel was part of the wake-up call that got me interesting in most of the books on this list, and so for me was a bit of a turning point in my life as a SFF reader and writer. (my review)

Scott, Melissa. Trouble and Her Friends [Tor, 1994]

"Less than a hundred years from now, the forces of law and order crack down on the world of the computer nets. The hip, noir adventurers who get by on wit, bravado, and drugs, and haunt the virtual worlds of the Shadows of cyberspace, are up against the encroachments of civilization. It's time to adapt or die.

India Carless, alias Trouble, got out ahead of the feds and settled down to run a small network for an artist's co-op.

Now someone has taken her name and begun to use it for criminal hacking. So Trouble returns. Once the fastest gun on the electronic frontier, she had tried to retire-but has been called out for one last fight. And it's a killer." (Goodreads)

This novel isn't new any longer but the struggle it chronicles is still incredibly timely. About a group of queer hackers going up against not just the system but also the toxic elements within the hacker community itself, the novel is about the strength of fighting when your very existence is political. It's a book that is filled with action and conflict and characters circling each other, unsure of who to trust, only freed when they decide to trust each other and try to build something they can all believe in. (my review)

Beyond: The Queer Sci-Fi & Fantasy Comic Anthology [Beyond Comics, 2015]

"Beyond is an anthology of queer sci-fi and fantasy comics. Featuring 18 stories by 26 contributors, Beyond is a 250+ page, black and white, queer comic anthology, full of swashbuckling space pirates, dragon slayers, death-defying astronauts, and monster royalty. Each story celebrates and showcases unquestionably queer characters as they explore the galaxy, mix magic, have renegade adventures, and save the day!

The Beyond Anthology was born from a desire to see stories inspired by people like us (queer people with diverse genders and sexualities) slaying dragons, piloting spaceships, getting into trouble, and saving the day—without having to read for their queerness from between the lines. We wanted to see beautiful, heartwarming, and adventurous stories that reflect and celebrate the many facets of gender and sexuality, without having to worry that their queerness would cast them as a villain, a pariah, or turn them into a cautionary tale." (Goodreads)

As far as SFF comic anthologies go, this stands as a turning point for me as well. To see so many writers and artists coming together to tell the stories they want to tell, the stories that don't get picked up from the major publishers. The pieces are short (it is an anthology, after all) but the impact is huge, with story after story exploring different worlds where queer characters are present and accounted for, not relegated to the C-list or killed off to promote some new (straight) hero. This anthology exposed the old lie that "there just aren't people making it" by showing how many extremely talented people showed up to contribute. (my review)

Borges, Jorge Luis. Collected Fictions [Penguin, 1998]

"Jorge Luis Borges has been called the greatest Spanish-language writer of our century. Now for the first time in English, all of Borges' dazzling fictions are gathered into a single volume, brilliantly translated by Andrew Hurley. From his 1935 debut with The Universal History of Iniquity, through his immensely influential collections Ficciones and The Aleph, these enigmatic, elaborate, imaginative inventions display Borges' talent for turning fiction on its head by playing with form and genre and toying with language. Together these incomparable works comprise the perfect one-volume compendium for all those who have long loved Borges, and a superb introduction to the master's work for those who have yet to discover this singular genius." (Goodreads)

For the short fiction reader you can't go wrong with this incredibly weighty but incredibly good collection of collections, showcasing Borges' fiction throughout his life, from the earliest to the latest. And it's great to read Borges in conversation, not just with his influences and his peers but with himself, often literally breaking the fourth wall to speak to himself as character and author, as artifact and cipher. Not all of these stories are SFF, but a good number all, and for anyone wanting an education in short fiction, look no further. (my review)

Cherryh, C.J. Kutath [DAW, 1979]

"Kutath was an ancient world and a dying one. In ages past, its best sons and daughters had gone to the stars to serve as mercenaries in the wars of aliens. Now the survivors of its star-flung people, the mri, had come back-in the form of a single woman, the last priestess-queen Melein, and a single man, the last warrior Nuin. And one other-the human Sten Duncan who had deserted Earth-s military forces to swear service to the foes of his own species-" (Goodreads)

Yes, this this the third book in a trilogy. And yes, I recommend the entirety of the Faded Sun books. But this final book in there series is the one that got me, the one that brought everything together and made literally cry with happy tears at the ending. It is powerful and brings the characters on a long, strange journey that changes them. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. It's about the warring elements of the human spirit and it's about hope and trust and Is. Just. So. Good. Seriously, read this series and pay extra attention to this book. (my review)

Moreno-Garcia, Silvia. Signal to Noise [Solaris, 2015]

"Mexico City, 1988: Long before iTunes or MP3s, you said “I love you” with a mixtape. Meche, awkward and fifteen, has two equally unhip friends -- Sebastian and Daniela -- and a whole lot of vinyl records to keep her company. When she discovers how to cast spells using music, the future looks brighter for the trio. With help from this newfound magic, the three friends will piece together their broken families, change their status as non-entities, and maybe even find love...

Mexico City, 2009: Two decades after abandoning the metropolis, Meche returns for her estranged father’s funeral. It’s hard enough to cope with her family, but then she runs into Sebastian, and it revives memories from her childhood she thought she buried a long time ago. What really happened back then? What precipitated the bitter falling out with her father? And, is there any magic left?" (Goodreads)

Some books seem made to satisfy the critic or the SFF geek or the sappy romantic in me, and this novel manages to satisfy all of those. A love story about music and magic and growing up, about families and circumstance and missed chances, this novel delivers a dense and layered experience that had me wanting to take notes and reread while also making me break down a few times from the emotions it evoked. Meticulously crafted, it delivered in about two hundred pages what some series couldn't accomplish across tens of thousands. (my review)

Samatar, Sofia. A Stranger in Olondria [Small Beer, 2012]

"Jevick, the pepper merchant's son, has been raised on stories of Olondria, a distant land where books are as common as they are rare in his home. When his father dies and Jevick takes his place on the yearly selling trip to Olondria, Jevick's life is as close to perfect as he can imagine. But just as he revels in Olondria's Rabelaisian Feast of Birds, he is pulled drastically off course and becomes haunted by the ghost of an illiterate young girl.

In desperation, Jevick seeks the aid of Olondrian priests and quickly becomes a pawn in the struggle between the empire's two most powerful cults. Yet even as the country shimmers on the cusp of war, he must face his ghost and learn her story before he has any chance of becoming free by setting her free: an ordeal that challenges his understanding of art and life, home and exile, and the limits of that seductive necromancy, reading." (Goodreads)

Most fantasy novels transport you to other worlds, but few do so with such expression and depth as this novel, which is something of a travelogue, something of a lost history, and a moving look at voice and erasure and power. Examining trade and language and ghosts, it follows a young man far from home as he learns of the great world outside, and the great world all around him that he never really knew how to see. It's a fantasy novel in some ways about how to read fantasy novels (or outsider narratives of any sort), and doesn't let the reader look away from the difficult subjects that come with cultural imperialism. (my review)

Miéville, China. Un Lun Dun [Del Rey, 2007]

"What is Un Lun Dun?

It is London through the looking glass, an urban Wonderland of strange delights where all the lost and broken things of London end up . . . and some of its lost and broken people, too–including Brokkenbroll, boss of the broken umbrellas; Obaday Fing, a tailor whose head is an enormous pin-cushion, and an empty milk carton called Curdle. Un Lun Dun is a place where words are alive, a jungle lurks behind the door of an ordinary house, carnivorous giraffes stalk the streets, and a dark cloud dreams of burning the world. It is a city awaiting its hero, whose coming was prophesied long ago, set down for all time in the pages of a talking book.

When twelve-year-old Zanna and her friend Deeba find a secret entrance leading out of London and into this strange city, it seems that the ancient prophecy is coming true at last. But then things begin to go shockingly wrong." (Goodreads)

There's something to be said for upsetting the natural order of things. For taking the tropes and flipping them upside down. And here is a book that does just that, that looks at a portal world where things aren't exactly backwards but are backwards enough, where what's needed isn't a Chosen One so much as an UnChosen One, and I love how the novel managed to subvert and complicate the hero's journey. It's a novel, to me, about the danger of the expected narrative, the cliché and the tired tropes, and how sometimes what you need is a heavy dose of the unexpected. (my review)

Carroll, Emily. Through the Woods [Margaret K. McElderry Books, 2014]

"Five mysterious, spine-tingling stories follow journeys into (and out of?) the eerie abyss.

These chilling tales spring from the macabre imagination of acclaimed and award-winning comic creator Emily Carroll.

Come take a walk in the woods and see what awaits you there..." (Goodreads)

Want to never sleep again? Or at least want to check to make sure the windows are locked and there's nothing under the bed every night? This collection of horror comics is truly frightening, making excellent use of the page and breaking the comfortable barriers between reader and text. There's a sense that there's something in the book, lurking, and that each time you pick it up you're taking a risk, tempting fate that something inside is going to reach out and— (my review)

Maguire, Gregory. Mirror Mirror [Reagan Books, 2003]

"The world was called Montefiore, as far as she knew, and from her aerie on every side all the world descended.

The year is 1502, and seven-year-old Bianca de Nevada lives perched high above the rolling hills and valleys of Tuscany and Umbria at Montefiore, the farm of her beloved father, Don Vicente. There she spends her days cosseted by Primavera Vecchia, the earthy cook, and Fra Ludovico, a priest who tends to their souls between bites of ham and sips of wine.

But one day a noble entourage makes its way up the winding slopes to the farm - and the world comes to Montefiore. In the presence of Cesare Borgia and his sister, the lovely and vain Lucrezia - decadent children of a wicked pope - no one can claim innocence for very long. When Borgia sends Don Vicente on a years-long quest to reclaim a relic of the original Tree of Knowledge, he leaves Bianca under the care - so to speak - of Lucrezia. She plots a dire fate for the young girl in the woods below the farm, but in the dark forest there can be found salvation as well ...

The eye is always caught by light, but shadows have more to say." (Goodreads)

I love Maguire's Oz books but my favorite project of his has been this novel about magic and betrayal and family secrets. About pain and about hope and about love. It's not really like any other telling of Snow White I've seen, reimagining it as a sort of Italian Opera full of murder and darkness. (my review)

Schwartz, Susan. Silk Roads and Shadows [Tor, 1988]

"Alexandra, sister of the dying Emperor of Byzantium, undertakes a mission to smuggle live silkworms from the mysterious Empire of Ch'in. Hounded by ferocious sorcery and an array of magical helpers, she must walk the length of the known world to save an empire threatened by her very existence." (Goodreads)

This book was a surprise to me. I didn't expect a book about trade and historical politics to really effect me that much, but then I got into this world, into the magic and the characters, the love and the reaching hope. I got to see a sort of narrative that's not really popular any more, that of the Western person traveling along the Silk Road and finding…wonders. There's so much here, from treacherous mountain tops to thrilling chariot races to the secrets of silk itself, and it's a novel that defied all my expectations and made me fall in love with the people and places it revealed. (my review)

Kay, Guy Gavriel. Tigana [Roc, 1990]

"This is that rare, spellbinding novel in which myth comes alive and magic reaches out to touch us. Tigana is the magical story of a beleaguered country struggling to be free. It is the tale of a people so cursed by the dark sorceries of the tyrant king Brandlin that even the very name of their once beautiful home cannot be spoken or remembered. But years after their homeland's devastation, a handful of men and women set in motion a dangerous crusade---to overthrow their conquerors and bring back to the world the lost brightness of an obliterated name: Tigana. Against the magnificently realized background of a world both sensuous and brutal, this masterful epic of a passionate people pursuing their dream is breathtaking in its vision, and changes forever the boundaries of fantasy fiction." (Goodreads)

Okay, this is the one novel on here that I read when I was young that's still one of my favorites. Not only does it not shy away from sexuality (queer and otherwise), but it builds so beautifully, bringing together a great cast of characters in a world with a powerful magic. It's about the weight of revenge and intent and action, about the price of tyranny and rule. I was blown away at the time with the richness of the world and the complexity of the motivations that drive the characters, and I still am. It's a novel that has stood up quite well for me, and that continues to inspire my imagination. (my review)

Moraine, Sunny. Line and Orbit [Samhain, 2013]

"Adam Yuga, a rising young star in the imperialist Terran Protectorate, is on the verge of a massive promotion…until a routine physical exam reveals something less than perfection. Genetic flaws are taboo, and Adam soon discovers there’s a thin line between rising star and starving outcast.

Stripped of wealth and position, stricken with a mysterious, worsening illness, Adam resorts to stealing credits to survive. Moments from capture by the Protectorate, help arrives in the form of Lochlan, a brash, cocksure Bideshi fighter.

Now the Bideshi, a people long shunned by the Protectorate, are the only ones who will offer him shelter. As Adam learns the truth about the mysterious, nomadic people he was taught to fear, Lochlan offers him not just shelter—but a temptation Adam can only resist for so long.

Struggling to adapt to his new life, Adam discovers his illness hides a terrible secret, one that the Protectorate will stop at nothing to conceal. Time is growing short, and he must find the strength to close a centuries-old rift, accept a new identity—and hold on to a love that could cost him everything." (Goodreads)

This is another novel that wears a lot of hats. Intense, action filled science fiction? Check. Adorable and affirming queer romance? Check. Exploration of immigration, family, and fractured relationships sets against a galaxy where science and magic don't look all that different? Check! I love the humanity in this book, the way that it imagines two very different ways that humanity might have drifted, and the consequences when one of those paths looks like it might be a dead end. It's fun and wrenching and a blast to read! (my review)

Lemberg, Rose. Marginalia to Stone Bird [Aqueduct, 2016]

"In this powerful debut collection, Rannu Award-winning poet Rose Lemberg explores the deep-rooted fluidity of gender, tradition, language, and desire in landscapes as familiar as high fantasy and as foreign as San Francisco. Written in the voices of immigrants, shape-changers, sentient ships in a distant future and heroes of a mythic past, her poems inhabit a fragile, vital space of complex identity and story as a conscious act, stubbornly urging the reader's attention toward the marginal, the liminal, and the unheard--a firebird cautioned to burn less brightly, a ghost-child ignored by the gods, a lover laying a road of words for a beloved to follow. By turns devastating and deeply hopeful, Marginalia to Stone Bird writes a fearless commentary on our history and others." (Goodreads)

Yes, poetry. And poetry that made me realize what SFF poetry could be. Poetry that tells a story and inspires, that moves and reaches out across borders and across worlds and across galaxies. It's incredibly constructed and includes some of my absolute favorite SFF poems, so it definitely earns a spot on this list. Like with so many works I've included, it got me to better understand myself as a person, a reader, and a writer. So the list wouldn't be complete without it. (my review) 

And there you have it. As I said before, I'm sure that if I checked back in six months this list would be slightly different. Six years? It's possible most of my choices will have changed. But I wish I had started my reading of SFF with these books. I'd undoubtedly be a different person, but I think I would have figured myself out a lot faster and maybe saved myself some grief. At the very least these are books that embody to me the idea of "essential." Because, to me, they have been essential. To understanding myself and the world.

So tell me what you think and maybe suggest some of your own essentials in the comments. One thing's for sure—with books like these out there, and with so many more to find, I'm not stopping reading any time soon.

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POSTED BY: Charles, avid reader, reviewer, and sometimes writer of speculative fiction. Contributor to Nerds of a Feather since 2014.