Thursday, January 9, 2020

Microreview [Book]: Blood Heir by Amélie Wen Zhao

A princess with unsettling magical talents leads the way in this YA debut



I don't want to talk about Blood Heir without acknowledging the route this book took to publication. Originally scheduled for release the beginning of 2019, the book was delayed after numerous ARC readers identified significant sensitivity issues with an aspect of the plot and characters. Blood Heir deals in some depth with the concept of indenture, with marginalised characters in the place where the book is set at high risk of being forced to sign work contracts which leave them effectively in slavery. In original ARCs, the story's depictions of race provoked strong concerns about how the story came across in the context of historic Black slavery in the USA. In response, author Amélie Wen Zhao delayed the book, revisited in the context of her original intent - to explore concepts of indenture with real-world parallels in Asian countries - and has now released the book, as of late November, satisfied that it did so. Having never read the original ARC, I don't know how much changed before publication, and I should be clear that I'm white and, as a non-American, less likely to pick up cues that would read "chattel slavery" to US audiences - so I'm not going make claims about whether Blood Heir is now "fixed", other than to note I didn't pick up anything other than the author's intended parallels in my own reading. However, from where I stand it feels like Blood Heir's delayed, revised publication is an example of sensitivity reading going right, albeit late in the process and therefore more loudly and messily than might have occurred if concerns had been raised earlier. People were right to raise concerns. Zhao was right to listen and use those concerns to revisit her intended, ownvoices, message. I hope and suspect the book is stronger for it.

Anyway, onto the actual review! Blood Heir is the story of Anastacya Mikaylov, Crown princess of Cyrilla, now on the run after being accused of the murder of her father. Unfortunately for Ana, being found covered in blood at the Emperor's deathbed does make it tricky to argue against a murder charge - but in her defence, Ana is a Blood affinite, born with the rare and extremely creepy ability to manipulate the blood within people's bodies. Ana has kept her talent secret and suppressed for many years - as it caused the very gory public deaths of several innocent bystanders when it manifested, this seems like a good idea, though it's accomplished through some really unfortunate and traumatic methods - and her actions at her father's deathbed were an attempt to heal him of poison. Now, Ana is attempting to hunt down the alchemist who did cause her father's death, the only man with a lead on that is one Ramson Silvertongue, a criminal mastermind who happens to be inconveniently locked up in a high security prison after a job gone wrong.

Blood Heir opens with that prison break, which throws Ana and Ramson into an uneasy alliance - Ana to find the alchemist, and Ramson to track down and get revenge on the crime lord who screwed him over to land him in prison in the first place. Because Ramson is also a point of view character, his motivations don't remain particularly mysterious for long, although Zhao does a good job of having the pair keep secrets from each other and ensuring that the audience is reminded of what each knows about the other and the importance of the secrets they are holding back without it becoming contrived or convoluted. There's also a lot of flashbacks, with Ramson's past in particular requiring some quite long scenes to establish where he came from and what pushed him into the life he's currently leading. Again, these are balanced pretty well, with the information in them deepening our understanding of Ramson's character without excusing his less savoury decisions. Ana and Ramson are pretty immediately established to have a slow burn thing going on, and its well handled - again, having Ramson's point of view helps a lot with that, as it helps to humanise him and make him more sympathetic to the reader while also maintaining some of that mysterious bad-boy attraction to him for Ana.

Much of Blood Heir is concerned with Ana's self-discovery, as both a potential leader and as an Affinite. When it comes to the latter, Blood Heir doesn't give Ana a pass on her privilege, pushing her to grapple with the fact that her past may have led to its own trauma, but her status also put her out of reach of the slavery and corruption which is a reality for the vast majority of Affinites (nitpicky readers will wonder why she only starts having these revelations nearly a year after escaping the palace and going on the run, but that's not really the point). The trigger to these discoveries are the numerous Affinites we meet on her journey, from May, the character she has bonded most closely with during her exile, who is an Earth Affinite, to the Yaegers - who are, I guess, "Affinite Affinites" and can dampen the talents of others, to those with other talents and agendas who we meet later on and who seem poised to play a much greater role in the sequels. Despite the particularities of her talent, and the fact that it is twice established she is only really able to use it for creepy restraints and murder, Ana's emotional journey takes a more straightforward "self acceptance" tack than I'd have expected, though I don't think her particular state of mind at the end of the book is likely to carry through a full trilogy (assuming that's what this is) without significantly more growth. What is harder to ignore is the lack of much growth or independent agency for most of these other Affinites, although there are a few cool characters who I hope will have an opportunity to develop further in later books. This is, of course, very far from the only book with "privileged but "special" character discovers discrimination exists for "special" people without privilege", and it certainly doesn't place Ana in any sort of saviour or leadership role for the people who share her marginalisations - they've already got their own mechanisms for organising, and indeed the scene which caused the initial blow-up is actually very much about Ana coming into contact with their external agenda. If you're tired of this trope, Blood Heir is not going to make it new and refreshing for you, but it's not done badly by any means.

Blood Heir is definitely positioned as the start of a series and there's not much resolution to be had in its closing pages - without giving too much away, Ana and Ramson end up going "... ok, well, let's try a new tactic for that," in the last couple of pages and riding off into the sunset while giving each other meaningful glances then glancing away because slow burn. I know I shouldn't label things "trends" based on two separate anecdotal experiences, but given that I only just read Joan He's Descendent of the Crane, which closes its courtly intrigue in a not-dissimilar state, I wasn't in the best mood for books-without-endings this time around (in fact, I kept up with the naive "how are they going to resolve this in 20 pages... now 15... 10..." until the bitter end). Luckily, Blood Heir is strong enough on its own merits that I'm intrigued to see where the next one goes, and despite some of its more formulaic aspects it's still a worthwhile addition to the YA fantasy shelf.

The Math

Baseline Score: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 Original magic system with a genuinely unsettling talent for the protagonist; +1 Balances the secrets the characters are keeping from each other without artificially leaving the audience in the dark

Penalties: -1 Yet another entry in the canon of compromised YA princesses self-actualising around their privilege; -1 Ends with very little actually resolved

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10

POSTED BY: Adri, Nerds of a Feather co-editor, is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke. Find her on Twitter at @adrijjy.

Reference: Zhao, Amélie Wen. Blood Heir (Harper Voyager, 2019)

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

The Dragon Prince Re-Read: The Dragon Token

Welcome back to my Dragon Prince re-read! Last month we looked at Stronghold, the first volume of Melanie Rawn's Dragon Star trilogy and the fourth overall in the larger Dragon Prince sequence. The three Dragon Star novels are a sequel trilogy to Dragon Prince, but I maintain the story arcs across all six novels more accurately complete a single trilogy with a much more unified story than one might otherwise expect. I go into a little bit more detail about that in my write-up of Stronghold, if anyone is inclined for a refresher.

Up until this point, each essay in this Melanie Rawn re-read has actually been a proper re-read. Through the essays, I've reflected on novels that I've read before (in some cases, many times). Hence why I call this a "re-read" rather than giving it a series title similar to what I've done with my oft delayed Reading Deverry series. With that said, I'm not convinced that I've actually read The Dragon Token before. I remember having library issues regarding this novel and now that I own the full series I still have no recollection of anything that happened in The Dragon Token. There's a theoretical chance that I've read this before, but this re-read series has turned into (for one essay only) a first read.

It should go without saying that this essay will contain spoilers of the series so far, though I will attempt to limit (but not necessarily eliminate) those that touch directly on the final Dragon Star novel, Skybowl. You have been warned.


Stronghold ended with the death of Rohan. Even as Melanie Rawn has been building the importance of Rohan's son Pol and Pol's inevitable conflict with Andry, the true heart of the series, from Dragon Prince through Stronghold is Rohan. This has been his story, his dream of peace across the continent and the rule of law, his love story with Sioned. All of that was shattered with the invasion of the Vellant'im. Rohan's death was the impossible topping on the top of that bloody cake.

I don't think I mentioned Rohan's death when talking about Stronghold, but that was the emotional peak of the series. It came very late in the novel so there wasn't much time for other characters to react. Here, much of the first quarter (at least) of The Dragon Token features various characters responding to Rohan's death. Despite faradhi powers, there are still some cities / castles which learn much later than others, so Rawn is able to continue with the reactions. Hell, Sioned spends the first half of The Dragon Token drunk. That part, at least makes a lot of sense because Rohan was her partner of decades and that is a deep and personal pain (as is the grief of Chay and Tobin).

The thing is that Sioned is such a significant and strong character for so much of the series that it hurts even more to see her out of commission and apathetic from grief. Because Melanie Rawn does not offer a singular experience for female characters in her novels, Sioned's sidelining isn't as brutal an experience as it might have otherwise been in another novel. Sionell and Tobin and Hollis and Chayla and some of the daughters of Roelstra are all strong in various ways, that moments of weakness are just that - human moments.
For other people, perhaps. She had showed them a woman of power. They would treat her as such from now on. They would not know - and must not discover - that it was only something she had worn for a little while like a cloak or a crown. It was real, but it wasn't really her. The appearance was false, and the reality was just Meiglan - The Dragon Token.
It's that range of strength in the women of Dragon Prince and Dragon Star that allows a character like Meiglan to be so significant on her own rather than being nothing more than a stereotypically weak woman in an epic fantasy, she demonstrates part of the range of human experience - which is a thought that when written out sounds far more pretentious than what I intended. At her worst, Meiglan is just another character and perhaps an outlier in a series full of strong women. At her best, she is a desperately shy woman trying to overcome her own fears and to grow into the sort of woman she would like to be and that she sees modeled around her.

With that said, it can be frustrating whenever Meiglan is on the page because she often comes across as so much more childish than the other women even though she is an adult and that she is also a mother in her own right.  It's just that she is barely considered her own person, and more that she is somebody who needs to be protected.
Meggie, it's selfish of me. Sending you home. I want to know that there's someplace that hasn't changed, something I won't lose. I need you to be safe for my own reasons, love. I want to think of you there, and the life we've always had. What tall this has done to us - what it might do to the girls if it lasts much longer - it doesn't bear thinking about. - The Dragon Token
Don't get me wrong. There has always been a desire to protect loved ones throughout the series but that has generally been tempered with a (sometimes reluctant) understanding that most of those loved ones are people with agency and consequence and strength and sometimes it is important to let them take risks and do the things necessary to win a battle or a war or a conflict or whatever. That seems to go for everyone except for Meiglan.
Audrite scowled and sank back down onto the couch, exhausted. "Yell back at me, why don't you? Why are you being so nice?"

Chadic hesitated, then shrugged. "I'm worried about Ludhil and Laric, too, you know."

She glanced up sharply. She hadn't been thinking about their sons - but all at once she knew they were the undercurrent to her every waking thought. - The Dragon Token
In some ways this second series is about parenting and war and how everything is changed by war. The fears of parents made real. There's a scene later in the novel where the quote of the dialogue is not near as important as the scene itself. It's a young man (a boy, really) injured in battle and fearing that he disappointed his father, and it's a scene of a father comforting his son knowing that his son is dying. I'm sure that another time years ago it would have been something that I glossed over - but this time, with two small children of my own, it's one of the most perfect and painful things that I've read and I'm having a difficult time writing about it right now, let alone the first and second time I read the passage - because I had to read through it twice to make sure I caught what Rawn just did there. It was beautiful and perfect and painful.

I think that is as good a place as any to wrap up my thoughts on reading The Dragon Token for the first time. Moreso than any of the novels in the series so far, The Dragon Token is the most dependent on being familiar with the story and the characters and having some sort of emotional investment. It's smoothly readable, as are all of Melanie Rawn's Dragon Prince novels, but to a point, I'm not sure I truly missed anything significant by not reading The Dragon Token before now. I remember reading Skybowl and feeling like I missed something but going from Stronghold to Skybowl without The Dragon Token is an easier transition that one might think.

Next month: Skybowl, and the conclusion of my Dragon Prince Re-Read. Be there.


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

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

Microreview [Book]: Realm of Ash by Tasha Suri

Politics are once again deeply personal in the second instalment of the Books of Ambha


Tasha Suri is back in the world of Ambha, with another story of magic, power, self-actualisation and belonging that expands the world of the first book, Empire of Sand, while offering a continuation of its wider story. Realm of Ash is about Arwa, the younger sister of Empire of Sand's protagonist Mehr - and while you don't have to have read Empire of Sand to enjoy this one, it's going to help to have some background on who Mehr is, her own relationship with the Empire and its authorities, as well as making some of the mysterious plot points... a little less mysterious.

When we meet Arwa, she's been widowed at the age of 21, due to an incident at the fort where her husband was stationed at which led to a spirit possessing all the men within and driving them to kill each other and everyone else inside. Arwa only survived because of her basic knowledge of what her Amrithi blood allows her - as a distant relative of daiva spirits, Amrithi are able to seek protection from them, and Arwa is thus found alive and surrounded by a ring of her own blood, even as everyone else in the fortress dies. As an Ambhan noblewoman, Arwa is not allowed to marry again or to seek any fulfilment of her own, and thus chooses to join a hermitage for widows, where she meets Gulshera, another widow who appears to have strong connections to the Ambhan royal family. Gulshera tries to coach Arwa through her rage at her situation, and eventually discovers the secret of her blood and passes it on to her connection at the palace. This turns out to be Jihan, daughter of the current king and sister to his heir apparent, who is seeking a way to redress the death of the Maha and the subsequent curse which appears to have been unleashed on the land. Arwa is thrown into court politics, and into apprenticeship with Zahir, a bastard son of the Emperor by a mother who was part of an ancient dissenting order. As an unacknowledged and dangerously smart bastard, whose brothers are far less accommodating to his presence than his sister, Zahir is now at the forefront of trying to discover what happened to the Maha and has been learning how to walk in dreams to understand this. Arwa, with her Amrithi heritage, may just have the connections to magic that they need to try and move the research forward - but as the emperor's health fails, the question about the value of doing so, and of saving Ambha, become increasingly complex.

Arwa is a really interesting protagonist, and the book doesn't shy away from establishing her as a person with deep, complex feelings who has been left in a pretty bad place by her life so far. Ambhan society practices purdah - the ritual separation of men and women - and the power of women is portrayed as highly dependent on the men around them, with their choice in marriage being the one officially free decision they are allowed to make. In the wrong hands, Arwa's empowerment narrative could become entirely about rejection of this culture, but Suri takes a far more subtle path than that. While Arwa's need to suppress elements of her personality in marriage is shown as negative, other aspects of her upbringing and culture, like the fact that she veils and spends much of the book in women-only spaces and in the women's sections of the palace are not inherently shown as weaknesses, and the book goes out of its way to show the different levels of influence and power that women can wield even while their male relatives are theoretically the ones in charge. By doing so, the book challenges the assumptions made about Arwa's agency as a restricted elite woman from a misogynist culture, particularly for modern western audiences, and provides space for her to push back on what she needs to. The narrative also offers space for some of Arwa's class privilege to be challenged, as her status allows her to cling to notions of "respectability" and "honour" which aren't available to lower class women who have to find their own way through their culture's structural misogyny.

Likewise, Realm of Ash does a great job balancing Arwa's personal arc - which, as a woman of mixed heritage living among the elite of a racist empire, is very much bound up in wider political factors - with those political elements themselves. Suri provides no easy answers on any level to these questions, particularly not for readers who have read Empire of Sand and are aware of the brutal methods the Maha was using to magically maintain the empire. Rather than rely on primogeniture, the Emperor's successor is appointed by him from amongst his children, with an implication that up until now the choice has always been "obvious" with one sibling just being more inherently suited than all the others. As the current emperor's health fails, however, it becomes clear that the choice between politically safe but angry Akhtar, and the fanatical soldier Parviz, does not leave much in the way of a safe option. Like Arwa, we're forced to consider these choices not in terms of there being an objectively better option, but in terms of what will keep her safest. Its only as the narrative progresses that paths to more radical solutions open up, and even then the tension is still high by the end of the book, with a pretty fascinating setup for the end of the trilogy.

The romance between Arwa and Zahir is signposted from a mile off - and its centrality to the book shouldn't come as a surprise, particularly for readers of the first book - but it's delightfully handled, and I particularly enjoyed how Zahir's desirability is portrayed as being due to his beauty and intelligence rather than any sort of "masculine" ideal (the obvious comparison being, of course, with Arwa's soldier husband). As in every other aspect of the book, there's a deliberateness to the angle which the romantic element takes, and it's definitely not portrayed as Zahir somehow "showing Arwa how to live again" - her growing relationship with him is shown as one of mutual discovery and respect, and in many ways Zahir, as a royal bastard confined to a converted crypt within the women's quarters and acknowledged and saved from death or exile only by Jihan, has even less experience of the world than Arwa does. When Arwa, with her greater magical talents, is able to surpass Zahir's ability to walk in dreams, his concerns revolve around her safety rather than any sort of envy or desire to hold her back. In short, it's about as wholesome a relationship as one can get between an angry, traumatised magic wielder and a mysterious royal bastard in fantasy, and all the more refreshing for it. Their relationship and interactions anchor much of the book, although Arwa has plenty of other people (mostly women) around her as well; while she struggles to understand and maintain alliances in her constrained circumstances, her relationships with Gulshera, Jihan, and other characters are nuanced and never automatically antagonistic without good reason. The portrayal of a court that's restrictive but not outright hostile in the first part of the book is important, as it allows Suri to make full use of the shift when Parviz returns, and the atmosphere shifts to something altogether more oppressive.

Realm of Ash is ultimately a deceptive book, coming across as something slow and soft while sweeping its characters up in a tense and relentless plot. As this is the second in what looks to be shaping up as a trilogy, it leaves more pressing political cliffhangers than Empire of Sand, although Arwa and Zahir themselves do have a satisfying wrap-up to their relationship arc. I'm intrigued to see how the pieces fall into place for the third book, and the angle Suri takes to bring the wider political plot to its conclusion. In the meantime, Realm of Ash is a book that's well worth picking up on its own or with its predecessors, and Suri is certainly an author to watch when it comes to taking care over characters and crafting slow-burning arcs that satisfy both as personal growth narratives and as romances.

The Math

Baseline Score: 7/10

Bonuses: +1 Nuanced take on gender, marginalisation and self-actualisationin a South Asian fantasy world; +1 Delightful romance between characters who help each other without

Penalties: -1 Political cliffhangers mean you won't be fully satisfied until the trilogy ends!

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

POSTED BY: Adri, Nerds of a Feather co-editor, is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke. Find her on Twitter at @adrijjy.

Reference: Suri, Tasha. Realm of Ash (Orbit, 2019)

Monday, January 6, 2020

The Hugo Initiative: Blogtable (1983, Novelette)

Adri: Hello, and welcome to another Hugo short fiction category round-up! This time, we’re moving forward into the 1980s and into a longer category, with the 1983 Best Novelette nominees all up for our [re]-consideration. With Paul returned from the roof of the world to join Joe and me, it’s time to get stuck in to this intriguing line-up...
  • “Fire Watch” by Connie Willis [Asimov’s Feb 1982]
  • “Nightlife” by Phyllis Eisenstein [F&SF Feb 1982]
  • “Pawn’s Gambit” by Timothy Zahn [Analog Mar 1982]
  • “Aquila” by Somtow Sucharitkul [Asimov’s Jan 1982]
  • “Swarm” by Bruce Sterling [F&SF Apr 1982]
Joe: I’d like to start off by looking at Somtow Sucharitkul’s “Aquila”.

Adri: I suppose we have to, don’t we?


"Aquila" is the first story in Somtow Sucharitkul (who later wrote as S.P Somtow)’s Aquiliad universe. On the surface, it's a story which takes all the cultural touchstones of violence and excess from the Roman Empire (crucifictions as public entertainment, snacking on peacock brains, fixation on the legion and military campaigns) and transposes them into a context whose time period is hard to pin down, and whose characters all speak more or less like Bertie Wooster, for reasons which seem unrelated to their Romanness.

The narrator of "Aquila" is Titus, a disgraced official who is sent off on a doomed campaign, and ends up being reinforced by a group of New World “savages” - that is, Native Americans led by the titular Aquila. Aquila is introduced with “it” pronouns for several lines, then goes about destroying the narrator’s pro empire ideology and espousing the importance of Disney’s-Pocahontas style Native American cliche traditions. But, wouldn’t you know it, despite not fitting in with the regimented Roman way of life, Aquila and his men save the day! And if you’re noticing a hint of disapproval in this allegedly objective story wrap-up… well done.

Joe: I just want to see what Paul has to say because everything about “Aquila” on the surface is right up Paul’s alley. We had a bit of an offline conversation about the story several weeks ago and I’m just baffled by “Aquila”. It seems like it is set in an 18th or 19th century alternate history, but Paul read ahead and doesn’t think that’s what Somtow is doing here.

My thoughts can really be summed up as follows: “Oh, what the everlasting fuck was that?”

My even shorter response is: Not for me.

Paul: Oh boy. Both of you thought that this was up my alley...but this was not what I expected.

To read this story, I read the collection “The Aquiliad”, which includes three subsequent Aquila stories, “Aquila the God”, “Aquila versus Bigfoot” and “Aquila the Final Conflict”. To try and understand just what was happening in “Aquila”, I read them all.

But let me talk about this story first and what we have in it. I was flat footed from the get-go, because the name of the Emperor (Domitian) really was at odds with the relatively advanced technology that we were seeing (not to mention the whole New World angle) . I wondered for a bit as I was reading if the Domitian wasn’t just another Domitian, a future Roman Emperor who was using that as part of his name. But, no, I caught a reference that the high technology was invented by one person and that there was a limited amount of it. So I began to wonder even in this story just what the setup was.

And then there is the titular Aquila himself. Oh, we can and have done better with cultural depictions since 1983, yes we have. I cringed every time Aquila appeared on the page, and while Titus is putatively the incompetent hero, it is Aquila and his men who saves him from the Parthians. (And I think the Bertie Wooster observation is spot on, Adri.)

And that’s what is really strange about this story. It’s meant itself to be a satire on Romans and Roman ideas and beliefs, especially in regards to how they regarded “savages”. (Side note: that itself is a stereotype of lazy scholarship, the relations between Romans and their neighbors was complex from the get go). The story is supposed to have us identify with Aquila, seeing how he shows up the glory hogging Romans who couldn’t get along without him and his men. And, in the same hand, Aquila himself is a stereotype and an example of bad characterization of Native Americans that we have (I think for the most part) have moved far past.

So, having read this thing, I was bugged and wanted to know more. So for my sins, I read all of the subsequent stories to make sense of the world and what was happening. They make it absolutely clear that it is late 1st Century, early 2nd Century A.D. Rome. Why does Rome have some motorcars and “better ships” so that they can conquer Terra Nova? It turns out that Interdimensional travelers are a thing, with Titus and Aquila running into them again and again in later stories. They travel in flying saucers, and meta-comment that the world Titus inhabits is all screwed up from a historical point of view, and that is actually a problem thanks to a cross-dimensional villain. But it gets even sillier and more satirical as things happen, including Jews transformed into Sasquatches with a liking for circular bread with cream cheese and smoked salmon. Yeah. Oh, and a female character does show up in the third story, but she is not written well at all.

Adri: Yikes. I agree that this story hasn’t aged well, if it was ever a good idea in the first place. Clearly there’s an effort to separate the textual racism and Roman-centric views of the narrator from the actual views of the author, but the stereotyping means that doesn’t work well at all. Beyond that, I’m struggling to see what even voters of the time would have found in this story beyond some confusing initial worldbuilding, and a fun but silly plot. I don’t think any of us found our favourite series here.

Joe: It’s pretty awful.

Adri: From Aquila, let’s move on to Nightlife, by Phyllis Eisenstein. Featuring Jane, a 32-year-old 80s Power Exec Shoulderpad Lady who goes home alone every night in order to live our her uniquely fulfilling dream life, Nightlife becomes a romance when Jane meets a young man called John (during a sexy saved-by-cowboys scenario) and discovers that he may be real, able to control his dreams in the same way as she is. The rest of the novelette is dedicated to Jane finding John in reality and trying to find the best way to be with him, given the complex circumstances they uncovered.



Adri: So, maybe I spend too much time on the r/relationships Twitter account, where a significant age gap between romantic partners is almost always a red flag for the problem being discussed to involve creepy power dynamics, but the way the romance plays out here between Jane and 20-year-old John, who she watches in dreams from the age of 8 so that she can seduce him at 16… actually, you know what, I’m not going to pretend that’s just me being judgemental about these people. It’s weird. The whole romance is unbalanced and uncomfortable and nothing makes it less creepy just because it’s a reversed power dynamic with a stronger woman.

I also had a problem with how boring Jane is. The perfect exec career woman by day, early bedtime by night thing is bearable, but Nightlife also doesn’t pull off anything that makes her actual dreams into interesting adventures which are worth passing up the rest of her life for. Her initial desert dream is obviously intended to be sexy wish fulfilment but the story barely commits to it, and the less said about her slice-of-life stalking mission, the better. Perhaps the issue here is that the concept of dreaming is really hard to make interesting in this way - we all know how weird and boring it is to listen to other people’s actual dreams - but there’s nothing which makes it really seem worth letting go of engaging with the rest of the world for?

Joe: I think it’s more that she seems to view her job as less than just a job, it’s the bare minimum of what she need to do to have that comfortable and vivid dream life. I was more willing to accept that Jane’s dreamlife was so vivid to *her* and given that we’re talking magic dreamworld here….sure.

Adri: Likewise, when Jane realises that John is also a real person, the story becomes entirely about how they get together and whether that uniting takes place in the real world or in the dreams that they control. My problem with romance in these contexts is that the question of whether or not two particular people end up together really doesn't seem more important than the literal rest of their lives? Maybe it's because I’m not big on the wish fulfilment element of romance plots, and I understand that it may not be intended as a "happy" ending, but there's nothing in the text that indicates the resolution is about anything other than them finding a way to be together in dreams without John dying. There's also a HUGE ableist element to the resolution, and to the fact that Jane accepts his reasoning and does nothing to argue his mother's points of view or bring anyone else into the conversation other than the two of them.

Joe: It’s not that “Nightlife” is *good*, per se, but it was the last story of the five which I read and it was far more interesting and compelling to me than either “Aquila” or “Swarm” - which probably says more about the state of this ballot viewed from 2019 than it does the relative merit of “Nightlife”.

Paul: Okay. This one was not really to my taste and I am not sure why. The narrator has an active dream life, and manages to connect to someone through those dreams, and finds what is missing in her life all this time and rearranges her real life so that she can continue the nightly dream life with the man he loves. It felt and feels really shallow even to summarize it in that way, but that’s basically how this goes.

So the speculative element is the sharing of the dream? I can’t seem to find anything else that makes this a genre story. Unless of course you go with the idea that a genre writer’s story is by definition a genre story. I don’t buy that argument but I have seen it as an argument for people classifying and filing books before.

Joe: I’d call the sharing of the dream the speculative element - but I think because “Nightlife” was published in a speculative magazine and was on the Hugo ballot, I also assumed from the start that there was *something* going on with Jane’s dreams that made them more than just a dream.

Paul: I was reminded of better versions of this idea, particularly the Black Mirror episode “San Junipero”. Maybe my heart is too hard but the love story did not really compel me. Or am I missing something key here and I am missing the subversion here--this sort of story would usually have the genders reversed--the male being the active character, the female the relatively passive one, and the man traveling to meet the woman he loves. The past is a different country, and maybe in 1983, having a female protagonist take the lead as she does in this story was mind blowing enough to launch the story into the top tier of interest for awards. Which is a damning environment of past genre readers, to be honest.

Adri: Yeah, I didn’t see much in Nightlife, although the proto-”San Junipero” is an interesting comparison.

Next up, we’ve got a story that definitely isn’t about prawns: “Pawn’s Gambit” by Timothy Zahn.

Joe: I primarily think of Timothy Zahn as a Star Wars writer because Heir to the Empire launched the Star Wars Expanded Universe (RIP) and he has been such a prominent part of that for almost thirty years with his Thrawn novels and introduction of Mara Jade and this is about to turn into an entirely different conversation, so I’m going to have to step back. Anway, his prominence within Star Wars has me continually forget that he had a notable career outside of those tie-in novels. “Pawn’s Gambit” was the first of three Hugo Award nominations, and in successive years at that! Not bad.


Paul: Definitely went “Wait, the Star Wars writer?” when I saw this was slated for us. The ebook I read mentioned in the afterword that Zahn did win a Hugo the following year for the novella “Cascade Point”, which takes a different classic SF trope, the FTL drive, and works it over as he does with this one.

Adri: I didn’t know that Zahn was a Hugo winner! He’s definitely a rare example of a writer who is not just well known, but generally most well regarded, for his work in a tie-in space, with Thrawn being one of relatively few Legends-only characters to make the jump to Disney canon.

Joe: “Pawn’s Gambit” is the story of an alien race which abducts other races and tests them to find out how dangerous they might be. It’s told through memos regarding the experiments and through the perspective of a human, we see the gamesmanship which the aliens are looking for and what the true purposes of the abductions are and what the consequences of their tests truly are. It’s an apt title, really - though I did think the ending was bit too neat with the Scooby Doo explanation for how everything came together.

Paul: The “aliens test us to see if we are worthy” is a trope that goes all the way back to the 1950’s, and probably earlier in the pulps as well. I was pleased to see that Zahn put a then-fresh spin on it--to test humans to see how dangerous they were, rather than if they were worthy for inclusion in a Galactic civilization.

I did like the variety of games--humans are the species that invents and makes games at the drop of a hat. And you can learn a lot about someone by the way one plays. This was a not very subtle lesson that goes as a throughline in the story, but it worked for me. I wouldn’t mind trying a game of Four-Ply or especially Skymarch. The reversible pawns bit was an interesting addition to Chess, too.

Adri: I do love speculation on “in a world of diverse species, what is humanity’s One Defining Trait?”, and “Pawn’s Gambit” is a fun take on that, especially with the memos from the Stryfkar which go from a sort of understandable concern about humanity’s capabilities, to pre-emptive genocide. I was also pleasantly surprised by Kelly: I’m predisposed to dislike or at least be sceptical of the “everyman” protagonist type figure but Kelly came across as smart and confident but without overrating his abilities and his thought processes are explained in a way that makes sense, even if we might not personally take the same risks that he does. The way that the history of the Stryfkar’s experiment and its impact on other races unfolds to the audience and Kelly is satisfying and while, as Joe says, the ending is a little convenient, it didn’t dent my overall positive experience with this story.

Joe: On the whole, I liked “Pawn’s Gambit”, but there’s an aspect to this type of story that I’m just drawn to whether or not it is a top tier story. It’s just one of my things.

Paul: I did notice, though, that younger me might not have noticed or complained, but dismissing what Kelly was eating while captured as “the food was bland but comfortably filling” felt way too anachronistic in this day and age. How DO the Stryfkar feed their human, or their other subjects and keep them alive for any period of time. Biology degree me was screaming inside about that one throwaway line.

Adri: The fourth story is "Swarm "by Bruce Sterling. Set in Sterling’s Shaper/Mechanist universe, which features two rival factions of advanced humanity. The protagonists here are the Shapers, who seem to use genetic editing to make themselves into “perfect” humans, with very high IQs and other state-of-the-art modifications (like… not having an appendix, which, OK). The protagonist of the story is Captain-Doctor Afriel, who joins his Shaper colleague Mirni in researching an ancient alien object called the Swarm, a colony of non-sentient creatures who adapt into niche roles to keep their society going. Against the requirements of his trip, Afriel has devised a way to smuggle out some of the alien pheremones for use in the war against the Mechanists - but his plans come to an abrupt halt when he discovers the Swarm’s defence mechanism against creatures of his type.


Joe: I first encountered “Swarm” more than a decade ago when I read Schismatrix Plus for a book club. I didn’t much care for it then, and I sure don’t care for it now. Nor anything else in the Shaper / Mechanist Universe.

The story is something something about the humans meeting particular alien race and trying to infiltrate the alien “hive” and the aliens are semi accepting of this because they are each working for the advantage of their own race but things go weird and sideways and I really don’t know what the what any of this is.

I know that Bruce Sterling had a strong run on the Hugo and Nebula Awards but I’ve read a small handful of his stories and he’s just not for me.

Paul: I read Shaper/Mechanist stuff years and years ago, and had forgotten all the details in this one, which is pretty early in the sequence, because what I kept focusing on was the anachronisms or the ideas that Sterling discarded as he went through the sequence. In this story, the Shapers and Mechanists are not the only two factions, none others are mentioned by name, but its clear that there are a swarm (pun intended) of factions that the Shapers and Mechanists are just far and away the top tier of. That surprised me, and it definitely did not correspond with my memory.

This story does and did feel like pulling the curtain to show that the aliens were not what they seemed and had the upper hand all this time because they have engineered themselves to last hundreds of millions of years(!) which feels really not a possible thing. That seemed to be a thought back then, because I recall that Niven has some aliens in his stories having been around for really implausible lengths of time. I think the “aliens have the upper hand” is better executed, much later on, in Vinge’s A Deepness in the Sky. Here it feels like pulling the rug out from under the reader.

Adri: I liked "Swarm"  OK - clearly better than Joe did - and I actually appreciated Sterling’s style, which is a mix of terrible and also rather evocative. An example from early in the text:

"No doubt you are right," Afriel said, despising him. "We humans are as children to other races, however; so a certain immaturity seems natural to us." Afriel pulled off his sunglasses to rub the bridge of his nose."

That "despising him" slipped into the speech tags is really direct and shouldn't work, but somehow brings the scene into focus - and then you've got the repetition of the name in two sentences which to my ear sounds irredeemably clunky. It’s bad, but it’s also kind of the opposite? Anyway.

I agree that the contrivances of Afriel and Mirni’s mission are all a bit weird and arbitrary, and things like their two-year mission and the realities of their life in the Swarm with no human comforts whatsoever are glossed over in an unsatisfactory way. There’s also plenty of gender nonsense going on here, particularly the fact that Afriel’s agenda immediately takes precedence even though Mirni is considered the better Shaper (with a higher IQ… and yes, let’s not go into the problems with using IQ as a proxy for human evolution), and that she’s ultimately killed in order to further his development.

As Paul says, though, I ultimately feel like unknowable aliens come in more compelling forms than this.

Paul: Also, this bit made me think that Babylon 5’s elder races were inspired by a note in this story:

"They have passed beyond my ken. They have all discovered something, learned something, that has caused them to transcend my understanding. It may be that they even transcend being...for all intents and purposes, they seem to be dead. Vanished. They may have become gods, or ghosts."

Adri: The final story on our list is the category winner: "Fire Watch" by Connie Willis.

Now, I really like Willis but I have to be increasingly careful to be in the right mood for her version of England, which can be generously described as "have you actually had this read by an English person before publishing, Connie". Everything seems to be going fine, but then the weird references to the Tube by Oxford-based characters start piling up (Bertie Wooster-voice is back, incidentally), and before you know it the characters are “taking the Tube” from Oxford to London and you know she doesn’t mean the very specific bus route (which was three years away at the point of this story) and there’s already a perfectly serviceable overground train line which is called “the train” and would have no reason to be underground in future, and it all gets a bit distracting to say the least. It hasn’t got much better by Blackout/All Clear, either, despite the author’s status as a multiple-Hugo winning master by that stage.


Joe: I’ve been an on and off reader of Connie Willis for years, but never read “Fire Watch” until now and I might not have done that if I hadn’t also read Doomsday Book for The Hugo Initiative.

“Fire Watch” is the first of Willis’s Oxford Time Travel stories and this one introduces the whole concept, though verrrrrry loosely. A historian travels back in time to “The Blitz”, the bombing of London in 1940 and 1941 by Germany, to help save St Paul’s Cathedral - except that he’s not really sure why he’s been sent to this location since he’s spent 4 years preparing to travel with St Paul. Oh, time travel jokes.

Adri: Bartholomew - who despite studying at the time travel department at Balliol, reputationally one of the most champaign-socialist Oxford colleges, has never heard the word “bourgeois” before - finds himself out of his depth thanks to being given vague and inadequate, and entirely personality-driven, instruction for a life-changing exam, due to the whims of the academic system… which is actually very believable. He also doesn't know about cats, because in the future all the cats are gone, and the fun asides about interacting with the one that lives with them (trying to lure it with water, complaining it "makes a noise like a siren") are wonderful.

Joe: “Fire Watch” is a somewhat pyrrhic story, because the protagonist knows that St. Paul’s Cathedral will be saved by the Fire Watch (they put out fires and smother bombs that get too close to the cathedral), only to be destroyed decades later in a terrorist attack. You know, I don’t know if this gets covered in later novels, but I want to know more about this future history.

Adri: Yes, this is a key element of Blackout and All Clear!

Joe: Anyway, one aspect of the story that reads very much “of its time” is that Communist is used as a nasty epithet regarding the rise and domination of the USSR and the atrocities performed on a global scale by the USSR and Communists - suggesting that the timeline in “Fire Watch” goes in a very different direction past the mid-1980s (and by extension 2019) than what we actually saw happen. That’s one of the perils of a story written in the midst of the Cold War.

Paul: I agree with you, Joe, that the Communist as epithet and danger felt really anachronistic in this day and age. I saw her resonance with how a future Brit in a world where Communism exists would have a horror of being called a Communist and worse, being thought as the threat himself to St. Paul’s.

Adri: If Bartholomew lives in a Britain that’s still indelibly shaped by hatred of Communism, that’s even more reason for him to have known the word “bourgeois” though, isn’t it? I feel the reason this moment felt so anachronistic was the combination of a very Cold War sensibility with the lack of a really fleshed out vision of what’s happening in the future to make that feel like a logical continuation, right up until the end. It reflects a general sense of fluidity in “Fire Watch” that’s not present by Doomsday Book, with the rules of time travel still up for debate in a way that they aren’t in later stories. Having read the novels in which things are clearer, it becomes hard to separate out the unknowns in this prototype version of the world from the constant niggles of implausibility around Bartholomew’s knowledge and understanding as a mid-21st century British history student. (Other words he doesn’t know include “tart” and “Tommy”, and no I'm not going to let this go.)

Joe: “Fire Watch” is a little looser than Doomsday Book, with more flitting back and forth between the protagonist’s memory and his time directly in London. Doomsday Book puts together more of the ideas Willis introduces here. It feels like the time between this story and the novel gave Willis time to more solidify the ideas she’s working with.

Paul: Yes, this definitely felt like a “dry run” for Doomsday Book, which is not fair to Doomsday, but in retrospect, it does feel like its set up. I misread and perhaps had the false expectation that it occurred before, but it seems more like that Willis decided to expand Kivrin’s experience into the novel qua novel, although she does retcon a few things in the process.

I also do see some Blackout/All Clear notes here as well, not only with the wartime London setting but also the questions of making sure history happens as it should and the efforts of someone to make sure it does, and also the unreliability of knowing when things happen when. The whole question of when the Marble Arch bomb hits kind of reminded me, oddly, of Heinlein’s Time Enough for Love, and Lazarus Long trying to figure out how much longer World War One had yet to run.

Adri: A lot of the time, “Fire Watch” reads more as a historical story, and it’s not always clear what the value is of having a time-travelling protagonist rather than someone of the time, event uncertainties aside. Aside from his little linguistic trouble, Bartholomew doesn't seem to have had trouble convincing others he's supposed to be there, and being positioned in the Blitz doesn't actually offer much scope for exploring the morality behind time travel: regardless of one's position on killing Hitler, burning down cathedrals is something people generally feel is not a good thing and would want to prevent. Where the story starts to excel, though is in the slice-of-life elements of a character trying to live through bombardment and fear - the sleep deprivation and fear, the things it does to Bartholomew’s memory and priorities, and what that means on his return, are all very well realised and it’s ultimately his growth as a character and the realisations he comes to thanks to his time in the past that turned this story around for me.

Paul: I found the small note that St. Paul’s would eventually be destroyed to be poignant and reminded me particularly of the recent damage to Notre Dame.

Adri: Now that we’ve gone through the entire ballot, it’s decision time. this is a tough set of stories to make a decision on, mostly because none of them did as much for me as I’d have hoped. While we’ve had some duds in our previous chats, part of me expected as we got a bit closer to the present day and to still-writing authors, we’d end up more in line with the tastes and aesthetics of current Hugos, but I guess that’s a lot to ask when this selection is still over 30 years behind where we are now.

At the top of the heap for me are “Fire Watch” and “Pawn’s Gambit”, both of which were enjoyable diversions, if not stories that set my world on fire. Of the two, I think I prefer the science fictional aspects of "Pawn’s Gambit" to the historical diary of "Fire Watch", which doesn’t fully tap into the potential for connection between the past and the near future that the later novels of the Oxford Time Travel series capitalise on. “Spawn” doesn’t really trouble those two, but I liked it well enough and I’d rank it third on a hypothetical ballot.

On the other side, while of course I can’t predict how I’d feel if I was voting back in 1983, but I hope that neither "Aquila" or "Nightlife" would have been above “No Award”. "Aquila"’s bizarre storytelling and casual racism was a real let-down for me from an author of colour whose work I’ve been interested in trying for a while; I had fewer expectations about “Nightlife” but its dream romance came across as more creepy than anything else.

Paul: None of these really set the world on fire, sadly. Today me, I think that Pawn’s Gambit is the best of breed, with the Fire Watch (the actual winner) in second place. Swarm would get third, Aquila fourth (only because there were Romans) and then Nightlife in fifth. I would not No Award any of them--that’s a tactical nuclear weapon I only really use with care.

13-year-old me (as I would have been at the time). I had just seen Return of the Jedi in the movie theaters that previous summer, the second movie I ever saw in a theater (the first being, weirdly, Metalstorm 3d: The Destruction of Jared-Syn”). I would have voted Pawn’s Gambit, then Swarm, Aquila (since 13-year-old me would have missed the problematic elements and went for ROMANS), Fire Watch and then Nightlife.

Joe: Depending on the year, my mood, the moon, and what’s going on in the genre - I tend to only use No Award very surgically, where I reacted very strongly against a particular work. Otherwise, I rank a category in order and leave No Award off my ballot.

With that said, “Aquila” would have fallen below No Award on my ballot. I can’t say if I would have been as refined in 1983 as I like to pretend I am now - but that story fails me on almost any measure I’m willing to consider.

I suspect at the time, I’d have voted “Pawn’s Gambit” as my top pick with “Fire Watch” second. Today I would reverse that. “Fire Watch” is the class of this field, though I was very pleasantly surprised by “Pawn’s Gambit”. Given my general dislike of Bruce Sterling’s Shaper / Mechanist stories, I’d honestly place “Nightlife” third, followed by “Swarm”, No Award, and “Aquila” in that order.


Adri: On that note, it’s time to bring our conversation to a close, and with it our Hugo category round-ups - for now, at least. Thanks, friends, it’s been fun!


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

Adri is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke. Find her on Twitter at @adrijjy.   

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

Friday, January 3, 2020

6 Books With Yoon He Lee




Yoon Ha Lee is a New York Times bestselling Korean-American sf/f writer who received a B.A. in math from Cornell University and an M.A. in math education from Stanford University. Yoon finds it a source of continual delight that math can be mined for story ideas. Yoon is the author of Dragon Pearl, Ninefox Gambit, Raven Stratagem, and Revenant Gun, and Yoon’s fiction has appeared in publications such as F&SF, Tor.com, and Clarkesworld Magazine, as well as several year’s best anthologies.

Today, they share their Six Books with Us.



1. What book are you currently reading?

I'm reading Pat Conroy's Lords of Discipline, which is a fictionalized? account of shenanigans at the Citadel (called the Institute in the book).  Conroy's language is lush and lyrical, and the story is so far profane, profound, and hilarious by turns.  I'm enjoying myself tremendously.






2. What upcoming book are you really excited about?

Tamsyn Muir's Harrow the Ninth!  It's the sequel to Gideon the Ninth, which I had the pleasure of reading in ARC last year.  I'm hoping for more lesbians, more necromancers, and more space!  With maybe a side of lots of gore.







3. Is there a book you’re currently itching to re-read?

C. J. Cherryh's The Faded Sun, a story of aliens and space opera on a vast scale.  I fell in love with this back in high school and reread it from time to time.  Cherryh's mastery of storytelling is a pleasure every time.







4. How about a book you’ve changed your mind about – either positively or negatively?

I hated Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness the first time I read it, back in college--I'm a pretty stupid reader and the stuff she was doing with symbolism and foreshadowing went right over my head.  At the time I found it boring.  I think I was too young for the book then.  Two years ago I gave it another try, and it was like I was reading a whole different book.  Except it wasn't, of course; the change was in me, not the book.



5. What’s one book, which you read as a child or a young adult, that has had a lasting influence on your writing?

Simon R. Green's Blue Moon Rising, a clever and thrilling fantasy with characters that subvert expectations, from a profane unicorn and an unwanted second prince to a princess who turns out to be an expert swordswoman and a dragon who collects butterflies.  It's a small masterpiece of epic fantasy, and I admire it tremendously.  It was my introduction to Green's work.  I've learned so much about plot and pacing from him.



6. And speaking of that, what’s your latest book, and why is it awesome? 

Thor: Metal Gods is a Serial Box serialized novel by Aaron Stewart-Ahn (the lead writer), Jay Edidin, Brian Keene, and myself.  It features Thor and Loki, both coming to terms with old sins and old friends, a Korean tiger goddess, and a genderfluid space pirate and astronomer.  There are black holes, eldritch abominations, heavy metal, and mayhem.  We had terrific fun writing it and we hope you'll enjoy it too.




Thank you!

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

Thursday, January 2, 2020

Thursday Morning Superhero

Happy New Year!!  This is the first of the monthly posts in the new Thursday Morning Superhero and I thought that setting some New Year's resolutions would be a good way to start. 



Valiant Cinematic Universe:
Valiant has big plans for 2020 in terms of licensing its properties for the big screen. Its first feature film will debut in 2020 when Bloodshot will visit your local movie theater this spring.  Featuring Vin Diesel, I am hopeful that the Valiant Cinematic Universe will be a success.  The full plan includes five feature movies, and I hope that the public will support these efforts enough in the theater to allow Valiant to complete this project.



Stream all of the shows:
I am notoriously bad at wanting to watch a series and then not following through.  I am hopeful that my successful viewing of Watchman is a sign of things to come.  I am most excited about the Locke and Key series on Netflix that kicks off next month, but want to support the Marvel offering on Disney Plus and finally watch The Boys on Amazon Prime.

Support Local Comic Book Conventions:
Last year marked my final trip to San Diego Comic Con much to the disappointment of my son. There are still some good shows in my neck of the woods and I want to make an effort to support more independent writers and artists who are trying to catch their first break.  Staple is at the top of my list and I will see what else pops up on the schedule.

Read Older Comics:
I get a lot of my books via ComiXology and have subscribed to ComiXology Unlimited and have yet to properly take advantage of its huge library of comics.  There are so many good books that I pass on due to a busy week and I should try to revisit some series that I know I will enjoy and some that I am not sure if I will enjoy.  Maybe a new feature of this column will be a look back at some comics that you may have missed.

POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012. 

Top 9 Books of the Year

Some people do a top ten list, others do a top eleven (insert your Spinal Tap joke here), yet others may only do five. My list is 9 books long. Why? Partly to be a little bit different and partly because I want the tenth spot on my list to be reserved for that really great book which I simply did not get the chance to read during 2019. That really great book may also be something I have only heard whispers about and I may not discover for several more years. Whatever that tenth great book is, I’m holding a spot for it on my list.

Also, there is no doubt that this list, like every other list out there is built entirely on the combination of the books I've actually read with my own prejudices, taste, preferences, and the choices I made when selecting books to read across the breadth of 2019. That's really what we're saying when we say we've put together a list of the "Best Books of the Year". It's the best we've read, the best we can remember, the best based on what we appreciate in speculative fiction. One of the other best books I've read this year is Colson Whitehead's latest novel The Nickel Boy, but this is a speculative fiction blog focusing on more nerdy endeavors, so for the sake of theme I'll limit this list to science fiction, fantasy, and everything in between and around the edges.

This Top Nine List is more or less in order.  The top two or three slots are a complete lock, but ask me tomorrow and some titles may shift around a bit.  Whichever order the list is in, these are the nine novels published in 2019 which I feel were the strongest titles of the year.



1. The Light Brigade: The Light Brigade is a bold novel in the tradition of Starship Troopers, The Forever War, and Old Man’s War. I don’t use this as an opportunity to list the titles of three significant military science fiction novels I’ve read. I view this more as a recognition of where The Light Brigade should be considered in the larger science fiction conversation about canon (as if there is a singular canon) and of which novels get to be held up as classics of the genre which revitalize and engage with the genre’s past. That’s a bold statement to make about a novel that was published less within the last twelve months, but there it is all the same. The Light Brigade does all of that while telling a strong story about a soldier in the middle of an absolutely messed up war (is there another kind?) that is messed up even further when her combat drops sometimes place her in the wrong battle at the wrong time – the wrong “when”. Hurley ties together all of the complicated timelines and fits it together perfectly. The Light Brigade is a gem of a novel.  (Paul's review)



2. A Song for a New Day: You know how Sarah Pinsker’s stories are little bits of perfection? This novel is all of that, but even moreso. A Song for a New Day is an expansion and a complete reworking of “Our Lady of the Open Road”, one of my favorite stories from Sarah Pinsker. A Song for a New Day is a beautiful and romantic story about live music in a world where large gatherings of people have been made illegal as a result of terrorism. The novel deals with the struggle to hold on to that bit of authenticity and heart that comes from performing in front of a live audience, the humanity found in shared spaces, and yes, it is a gut punch of the best rock and roll. There is a visceral presence to the music and the passion in A Song for a New Day and it’s everything I hoped for from Sarah Pinsker’s debut, and more.



3. Gideon the Ninth: The tag line I’ve seen all year long is “Lesbian Necromancers in Space” and while that is technically correct and was absolutely a selling point for the novel (as was the spot on cover art from Tommy Arnold) that’s not really what Gideon the Ninth is. This is a love story. This is a hate story. This is a locked room mystery (locked citadel on an abandoned planet mystery?). There is beautiful swordfighting, necromancy, magic, absolutely foul mouthed characters, and it’s all a friggin delight. In her review, Adri wrote about the claustrophobic atmosphere and that’s an apt description – which is why the “in space” part doesn’t really apply. The “Lesbian Necromancers” – yeah, it’s very much that and it’s pretty spectacular. One of the most impressive aspects to Gideon the Ninth is that it lives up to the massive hype. Gideon the Ninth is a brutal, sharp, nasty, wonderful novel. Tamsyn Muir will gut you. (Adri's review)




4. The City in the Middle of the Night: If somebody told me that 2019 would bring us a novel that has the strongest resemblance and feeling to Ursula K. Le Guin’s Hainish novels, I’d have been more than skeptical – but The City in the Middle of the Night is so very much that novel. Several times, I had to check the cover to remind myself that this wasn’t Le Guin. It’s not, but The City in the Middle of the Night is a worthy successor to Le Guin’s work while still very much being a Charlie Jane Anders novel and its own thing. There is a tidally locked planet, fascinating characters, absolutely original and creative alien creatures, and a conversation about morality. The City in the Middle of the Night is a novel of big ideas and just as important, it’s a book you don’t want to put down. Anders is doing the work here. This is an absolutely compelling novel that I cannot recommend highly enough.(Paul's review)



5. Jade War: To quote my review: The ongoing conflict between the No Peak and Mountain clans is the core of the story Fonda Lee is telling first with Jade City and now with Jade War, but the heart of the novel is the interplay within the Kaul family of the No Peak clan. The dynamic between Hilo and Shae as siblings and also Pillar with his Weather Man is painfully and perfectly drawn out. It is nearly impossible to not reference The Godfather (either Puzo's novel or Coppola's film) when discussing Jade War because Lee's novel has that feel of family and crime tinged with legitimacy and vengeance and hints of what it looks like from the wider world. Jade War fulfills the promise of Jade City and then raises the bar once again. The novel expands beyond the island of Kekon and Fonda Lee's rich description makes brings each new location alive with the smell and feel of the city and Kekonese in exile. Once again Fonda Lee has delivered a spectacular novel. (my review)



6. The Luminous Dead: Caitlin Starling’s debut novel is a claustrophobic story of deep cave exploration. Starling gets into the reader’s head – the deeper Gyre Price gets, the more fraught the caving, the increased paranoia of Gyre (and the reader!), the deteriorating relationship between Gyre and her guide on the other end of a comm, the isolation of being so deep underground with nobody to come get you if something goes wrong – The Luminous Dead is a deeply unsettling novel and it is a spectacular debut. Starling nails the storytelling and delivers an eerie combination of terror and madness that hits all the right notes.



7. Middlegame: Middlegame is perhaps the most ambitious novels from Seanan McGuire and is a showcase for her skill at telling a good and complex story. Twins, math, alchemy, murder, time-bending, family, secret organizations, impossible powers, and just about everything McGuire can throw into this wonderous novel. Seanan McGuire has blended together as much as she possibly could stuff into one novel and she makes the whole thing work. It’s impressive. McGuire goes big with Middlegame. Doubt Seanan McGuire at your peril. (my review)


8. The Deep: The Deep is a story borne out of the legacy of slavery, of the horrifying reality of slavers crossing the Atlantic Ocean and dumping the bodies of pregnant women over board. It is a story borne out of wondering about what life might grow out of that death. The Deep is a story of origins and new beginnings, of the horror of institutional memory and what it costs the individual. Solomon's writing is incredible. With only a few sentences I felt the water, the pressure of the deep, the movement of current and body. The water almost became a character and, not to mix metaphors too much, grounded the story into a particular location that the reader can sense.

The Deep is a novella filled with pain and despair and rage and a glimmer of hope. It is built off of real history and pulled in unimaginable directions, except that it was imagined and we're all better off because Daveed Diggs, William Hutson, Jonathan Snipes, and Rivers Solomon saw the possibilities of building something beautiful out of raw horror. (my review)


9. Exhalation: It's been seventeen years since Ted Chiang's last (and first) story collection, Stories of Your Life and Others. Exhalation was a literary event that lived up to the hype. Exhalation contains three Hugo Award winners including the excellent The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate. Across the board, these are top tier stories from one of our best storytellers.



As I mentioned in the introduction, for as many books as I read in a year, there is always something amazing that I missed and that I just didn't have time to get to. Or, as plugged in as I try to be, that I just haven't heard of (or heard enough about). As much as I wanted to, I did not read A Memory of Empire (Arkady Martine), The Future of Another Timeline (Annalee Newitz), The Wanderers (Chuck Wendig), The Ten Thousand Doors of January (Alix E. Harrow), The Dragon Republic (R.F. Kuang), Ancestral Night (Elizabeth Bear), or Magic for Liars (Sarah Gailey), among others. The list of highly recommend and presumably stellar novels that I just didn't get to read this year is long and distinguished. That's the reason for the tenth spot on the list.

Also it is worth noting six books that just missed the list but were in serious contention: Alliance Ricing (C.J. Cherryh and Jane Fancher), Tiamat's Wrath (James S.A. Corey), Atlas Alone (Emma Newman), Gods of Jade and Shadow (Silvia Moreno-Garcia), In An Absent Dream (Seanan McGuire), Vigilance (Robert Jackson Bennett),


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