Finished reading:
The good thief by Hannah Tinti. I really enjoyed her writing style, but then ending sort of wobbled for me. I'd interestedly pick up something else by this author, though.
Piranesi by Susanne Clarke. Oh man. This really is a book I want to reread so I can watch it unfold with my newfound knowledge. Not that Clark did anything startlingly unexpected or novel, but there feels like an immense satisfaction knowing ….ugh. All of it. Trying to put it into works feels like diminishing it into simplistic concepts, but that doesn't help when you're trying to describe it to someone else. As someone who likes books where not much happens? It's good, it's very good. It's not perfect (heads up for not-great queer rep, and also a single paragraph of entirely unnecessary fatphobia), but despite those flaws, it still managed to make me feel immensely peaceful and more secure in the world, so there is that.
Silver in the wood by Emily Tesh Argh. I want to like this so much! This is exactly the sort of story I want to have written! Forest spirits, and forest protector! Multiple types of masculinity, and a queer relationship! But damn. It desperately needs another edit (it's readable! But *makes face*), and the first part of it feels so rushed. I know it's a novella so probably had word count limits, but I really wanted another thousand words to be able to settle into the setting, and then a few more thousand to establish the antagonist properly. I've just started the second half. I love Mrs. Silver already, but idk if she's going to be enough to negate the fact that the first half was a lot of manly-man walking around the forest using a crossbow to kill explicitly-female dryads, and an off-screen human woman described as an ogress for being allegedly overbearing. I'm still reading, but I'm grieving what could have been, and not yet planning to pick up the sequel.
Having now finished it: I rescind the ogress complaint: Mrs. Silver was the GREATEST! But I was left so frustrated and grieving what could have been if the narrative as a whole had been given enough words to breathe. All of it just felt too rushed. :( Not getting the sequel.
“A Guide for Working Breeds” by Vina Jie-Min Prasad. Short story finalist for this year's Nebulas, which was how I stumbled over it, and now Hugo finalist too! This was laugh out loud funny, and still makes me smile. Robots and their robot mentors.
Finna by Nino Cipri (novella) Recced by
![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fredmouse <3. I was utterly charmed by this. I wanted (and still want) more relationship grounding—I know they just broke up, but I wanted to
feel what they'd lost—but the ending felt more and more right the longer I sat with it, which is a kudos in its own right. I'm glad it made the Hugo shortlist. I'm expecting something else to be better than it, honestly, but it's a worthy contender.
Klara and the sun by Kazuo Ishiguro. I read
Never let me go after seeing the trailer for the movie, which means that I went into that particular book not even realising there was a twist to be slowly, horrifyingly revealed. Of all the books I wish I could (re)read cold for the first time, that book is on the top of the list. So I went into
Klara very interested and as cold as possible. I read this over a weekend,
( general, mostly feelings-based spoilers )The murders of Molly Southborne by Tade Thompson. Holy shit. Passed on to me from
fredmouse via
chaosmanor.
chaosmanor also passed on that it was full of gore and body horror, and confusing, but if I could make it through the first chapter I'd be fine. I knew starting this at night was not a great idea, but I did it anyway, absently picking it up this (Tuesday) evening and started reading the first few pages curiously, on my feet. I figured I could stop should it start to get too creepy. I read it straight through in one sitting, and okay, it helped that it was only 117 short pages, but STILL.
( One tiny detail that I wish had been addressed ) Regardless, I was entirely willing to roll with both the opening and the premise, and still wasn't quite sharp enough to twig to how it pulled together, and goddamn, that was an EXCELLENT use of a novella, and the ending was fucking great. Thinking about it, the writing style/voice
feels like
The queen's gambit, and it works really, really well for it: that tight third person of someone who's outside the mainstream world but also
knows shit.
Epic heads up for body horror and gore and violence, tho. I don't know that I'd want to consume a steady diet of said, and I'll…probably be okay sleeping tonight, but I can see how other people wouldn't be.
The dictionary of lost words by Pip Williams. In 1901, the word 'Bondmaid' was discovered missing from the Oxford English Dictionary. This is the story of the girl who stole it. This was both excellently written and frustrating in tiny, sharp, specific ways. This was so cosy in a white, middle-class British way that I kind of squirm at how much I enjoyed it, but I did. I
did keep muttering 'where are the queers? Where
are they?' Once I realised the live-together-forever sisters were fictionalized takes on actual historical real people, I relaxed a little, but still, a narrative that included positive feelings towards (former) sex workers, and the stories of working-class people of colour, the silence around queers felt…loud.
The author wanted to tell the stories of women and the women's words that had been excluded from the literal record of the dictionary, and she did a good job there, using a fictional woman to channel that, including several common grief-experiences that hit really well and hard, like, the author is
good at this, but the author also for some reason intentionally dodged several moments of emotional impact. Like, it feels very distinctly like the author didn't feel like her fictional character was allowed to make active choices. The story of her life still works, but as a writer, I was left blinking that a few scenes were
missing crucial sentences that would have allowed the character to be a fully rounded person, and been immensely emotionally satisfying for (this) reader, and argh. I critique because I liked? I guess? And am also taking notes for my own writing.
DNF:
When rain turns to snow by Jane Godwin. Australian YA. A boy turns up on a girl's doorstep with an infant child. I was tempted into this one by the lyrical writing (for lovers of Fiona Wood indeed <3) and the authentic teenage-Australian voice. I rage-quit at page 50-70 or so when I realised that most of the book was going to be these very young teenagers ineptly not-properly caring for
an ill infant and actively not telling an adult (MC's mum is Right There, to be told and for administering life-sustaining care, jfc) for a hundred plus pages and fuck no. Tween/teen me probably would have liked it, but apparently adult-me Cannot. Will Not. Nope.
Currently reading:
Homesick by Nino Cipri. (also from
fredmouse) I'm two and half short stories into this collection, and holy
shit, it's GOOD. The third story—a ghost? Who-knows-what's-going-on!? Story was so good/unsettling that I stopped reading before bed and was epically unsettled for sleep. Highly recced daytime reading!
Up next:
Genuinely want to re-read
Piranesi, doubly so now that it made the Hugos.
Black Sun by Rebecca Roanhorse. Public service announcement: I have been informed that one of the heroines is a
bisexual mermaid sea captain, at which point this book goes from "This author's first book was solid, but I didn't grab its sequel, and I'm not really running to pick this new series up, even if it has been Hugo-shortlisted" to 'holy shit, keen library reserve, yes pls!'
