September Reading Recap

My September reading was mostly the excitement of brand new novels!

→ WICKHILLS by Premee Mohamed: Ferec has many years of experience as a Seaborne agent, and he knows the city of Wickhills better than anyone, but his latest mission makes him question everything he thought he knew about both the agency and the city. Wickhills, like the world's other cities, is surrounded by walls. Land travel between cities is impossible, and sea travel carefully controlled. Ferec's handler assigns him to retrieve an asset from an incoming ship, but nobody is to know about this assignment, not even the rest of the agency. The asset turns out to be a stowaway scientist who has come in secret from another city, bringing knowledge and a device that he won't explain, but that he says would be dangerous in the wrong hands. The more Ferec learns, the more complicated the situation becomes.

This is an exciting spy story with a Cold War vibe, set in an unusual fantasy city. In Wickhills, among other oddnesses, pillars and glass churches sprout from the ground and must be handled by the Defective Architecture Eradication Division. Though some of the setting details seem like random whimsy, there's an overall sense of logic and deep history to the worldbuilding. I enjoyed exploring Wickhills with Ferec as my guide, and I was caught up in the twists and turns of the espionage thriller.

This is my first time reading a book by Mohamed, but she has published more than a dozen others in a range of speculative genres. While Wickhills is a standalone, I wouldn't be surprised to see more set in this world, and I'd definitely read on.

→ EXIT PARTY by Emily St. John Mandel: When Ari is released from a lengthy prison sentence in 2031, she emerges into an unfamiliar country. The United States has collapsed, and after a series of secessions, battles, and attacks, a tentative peace has settled in Los Angeles and the Republic of California. To celebrate the lifting of the city-wide curfew, Ari and her new roommate attend a party. It's a wild night, and a strange one: During the evening, a duplicate version of one of the guests appears and addresses Ari by an odd name. Later, the host steps into the kitchen, and then he's never seen again. Only much, much later do these events begin to make sense to Ari, when she meets another double who knows a different version of herself.

The way this story unfolds is constantly surprising, and I was excited to follow Ari and the other characters in every new direction. I would have been happy to learn even more about each person and thread, but by the end, I was satisfied enough by the amount that's revealed. I've now read all of Mandel's previous novels, and though the stories are quite distinct, she often writes about topics that are prominent in this book: crime and wrongdoing, investigation, the creation of art. She also reuses characters, and though it's not necessary to know or remember the other appearances, it adds a fun extra layer. I recommend this, and all Mandel's work, to readers who appreciate unconventional novels.

→ TAIPEI STORY by R.F. Kuang: Lily is a college student spending the summer in Taipei to study Chinese in an intensive language program. Like many of her fellow students, she has a familial connection to the language, but none at all to Taiwan. Lily was born in mainland China before immigrating to the US as a small child, where she forgot most of the Mandarin she'd known. Though she still has family she could visit in China, it's a less convenient or hospitable travel destination than the more open Taiwan. So she's seeking a connection to her culture in a place with a different culture, and she's aware of this irony as she visits popular landmarks and tries to make sense of Taiwan's complicated history. Lily struggles more with her language classes than she anticipated, and the relationships with her roommate and new friends also become unexpectedly difficult. The story follows Lily through her increasingly challenging summer as she learns about language, Taiwan, herself, and her own family's history.

This is a far quieter and more personal novel than Kuang's others. The story seems heavily drawn from the author's own experiences at a similar language program, so the book often reads like a memoir, with the narrative shaped around day-to-day activities and details. Because the other Kuang novels I've read are propulsively plotted, I was surprised by how few big events happen in this one, but I mostly enjoyed this book for what it is: a close look at a place and a style of language study I knew nothing about.

→ GOOD DAYS BAD DAYS by Emily Bleeker: Charlie returns to her hometown for the first time in over thirty years. She's been estranged from her parents ever since she was removed from their home as a teen due to her mother's hoarding and her father's enablement. But when her father, Greg, calls and asks her to finally help clear out the house, Charlie agrees. Her mother, Betty, is suffering from dementia and has been moved to a memory care center. Charlie discovers that the "good days" when her mother can remember their difficult history are actually worse than the "bad days" when Betty relives an earlier, happier past. Charlie knows nothing about that version of the past, and as she seeks to uncover her parents' secrets, alternating chapters from Greg's perspective follow the complicated early years of Greg and Betty's relationship.

Early on, I was interested to see where the story was going, and particularly to understand how Charlie's parents ended up in the situation that led to her removal. But the psychology of Betty's hoarding turns out not to be the novel's focus. Instead Greg's storyline sets up different mysteries for Charlie to wonder about, and I found it at first too slow, then unnecessarily sensational. None of the characters every really came to life for me, though some emotional moments rang true.

I read this for book club, and it was arranged for author Emily Bleeker to speak to our group. Though I wasn't the biggest fan of the novel, I appreciated hearing the details of how she came to write it.

Good Stuff Out There:

→ Joel Pinckney at Defector asks, What Do Booksellers Make Of "The End Of Reading"?: "There's much that can and should be said about this onslaught of post-literate panic, but it's also worth noting who is and isn't being asked to contribute to the conversation. Notably absent from these essays is one group of people who might have real insight into the situation: booksellers. The prognosticators wring their hands over the demise of reading, but ignore those whose very livelihood depends on the selling of books. Perhaps they might have something to say on the subject."

August Reading Recap

I had another great month of summer reading, and now I can begin on my anticipated fall reads!

→ CRUX by Gabriel Tallent: Dan and Tamma are best friends in their last year of high school, and all they want to do is climb rocks together. Every evening that they can get away from troubled home lives, they make another attempt on the boulder that's at the limit of their skills. They climb without the safety of ropes or crash pads—not for the challenge, but because they can't afford any gear. When they aren't tackling the boulder problem, they're struggling with the unsolvable problems of home. Dan's parents expect him to live out their dreams of college and career, while Tamma's family doesn't expect her to make anything of herself, until they expect too much. Only on the rocks, risking their lives, do they feel in control.

This novel is so harrowing and so good. Dan and Tamma are complicated, original characters. Though they often relate through ridiculously vulgar banter, their friendship is deep and loving. Their family situations are also complicated, involving a range of difficult material. Tallent writes the climbing sequences with effective, jargon-laced description that powerfully conveys what's happening both physically and emotionally. The threat of death hangs over the story, and some scenes are so intense that I was barely breathing as I read. I recommend this to any readers prepared for the intensity, particularly anyone with an interest in climbing.

→ COOL MACHINE by Colson Whitehead brings the Harlem Trilogy to a satisfying close. It's the 1980s, Ray Carney has reached middle age, and he's proud that the success of his Harlem furniture store has earned him recognition as Northeast Regional Dealer of the Month (August). Carney hardly ever engages in his side business as a fence anymore, except sometimes when he does. And when he does, just like in the past, those shady dealings can entangle Carney and his associates with more complicated crimes, dangerous situations, and violent characters.

This final installment is just as good as the first two, with a familiar style, tone, and humor. There's an appropriate sense of the time that's accumulated over the course of the trilogy (the first book opens in 1959, and this one concludes in 1986). Carney and the other characters are frequently aware of their advancing age and reflecting back on previous exploits. The 1980s portrait of a gentrifying New York City is also often depicted through memories of what was there before.

If you like reading about conflicted criminals, the details of heists and shakedowns, and stories where the setting is another character, I recommend this series. A television adaptation is now in the works, and I think it will also be great on screen.

→ WHAT AM I, A DEER? by Polly Barton: A young woman from England has recently moved to Frankfurt for a translation job at a video game company. The big life change is exciting, but she constantly feels out of place: She doesn't care for video games, and while she's fluent in the Japanese she's translating to English, her German is poor. A shift in her Frankfurt experience begins when a stranger returns her forgotten umbrella as she steps off the tram. She discovers he works in another department at the large game company, and though they have no further interactions, she develops an obsessive crush. She's unable to shake the fixation, even as she enters a relationship with a different man who works at the company, forms friendships with her coworkers, and indulges in her love of karaoke as a way to sing out all her feelings.

I found this novel compelling, delightfully odd, and frequently funny, but it's not going to be for everyone. The narrative follows the protagonist's stream of consciousness in disorienting directions, the lengthy sentences require close attention, and not much happens. What pulled me in and kept me interested was that the character and her situation felt so real and specific. I wanted to find out how her various relationships (and non-relationships) were going to pan out and what she'd figure out about herself. And I wanted to know all her thoughts about translation and karaoke!

→ GHOST CITIES by Siang Lu opens with the story of an emperor who gains the throne after his father dies choking on a chicken bone. Among the emperor's first acts are to outlaw the eating of poultry, to execute the imperial taster, and to appoint the taster's three-month-old baby to the role. The continuing tales of this empire feature more of the ruler's absurd edicts and cruel treatment of his court and subjects. In alternating chapters, a modern-day story unfolds: Xiang Lu has been working as a translator for the Chinese consulate in Sydney. Problem is, he doesn't speak any Mandarin and has been doing all his work using Google Translate. Once he's caught, his firing goes viral and attracts the attention of a film director who hopes to attach Xiang's questionable fame to his own infamous projects.

This is a strange, entertaining novel. The two storylines are both full of absurd situations and memorable characters. These become connected through an increasing number of parallels and cross-references, though there's no tidy explanation for the pairing. I wanted a bit more from the end of this novel, but I enjoyed reading it, and I'll definitely be interested in more of Lu's work.

→ THE ECHO WIFE by Sarah Gailey: When Evelyn is honored at a gala for her research into human cloning, she tries to keep focus on her professional success, not the recent ending of her marriage. If anyone knew the details of Nathan's betrayal, it would be not only embarrassing, but damaging to the reputation of her work. Nathan left her for what he imagined was the perfect woman: a clone he created using Evelyn's methods, and her genetic material. Martine is a double to Evelyn physically, but her personality was designed to be docile and accommodating. Legally, she isn't supposed to exist, and so Evelyn has been attempting to pretend she doesn't. But after something horrific occurs, Martine calls Evelyn in desperation, and the two must work together to hide ever-larger secrets.

This science-fictional spin on a domestic thriller kept me engaged. I enjoyed the scientific worldbuilding around Evelyn's research, and wished for even more detail to set the context. The thrillery escalation of plot complications kept the story surprising, though I occasionally questioned the logic of events or character decisions. At the center of the story is the evolving dynamic between Evelyn and Martine, and that was consistently interesting. Gailey especially does strong work with Evelyn's narration, which increasingly reveals how her perspective is skewed by past trauma.

Releases I'm Ready For, Fall 2026

This fall promises the publication of so many exciting new books! These are the ones I'm most looking forward to, from authors I've enjoyed reading:

→ TAIPEI STORY by R.F. Kuang (Sept 8): Kuang writes in multiple genres: I've read the alternate-history-with-magic BABEL, the publishing-world-thriller YELLOWFACE, and the grad-students-visiting-hell KATABASIS. This next book seems firmly planted in reality, focusing on a college student at a summer language program who grapples with her family history and identity.

→ EXIT PARTY by Emily St. John Mandel (Sept 15): I've read all of Mandel's novels, and I love seeing how certain concepts and even characters recur throughout her work. I'm anticipating more of those echoes in what sounds like a fresh and yet very Mandelian story: EXIT PARTY involves a near future American civil war, multiple possible realities, crime, and art.

→ PLY by Hernan Diaz (Sept 29): My introduction to Diaz's work was TRUST, a fascinating reading experience through nested narrative layers. I'm intrigued that his next novel is science fiction set in a far future dystopia, described as "Dickensian odyssey, family drama, and scientific thriller."

→ A WALL IS ALSO A ROAD by Annalee Newitz (Oct 6): I'm a fan of Newitz's science fiction novels, which vary widely but are all inventive and thought-provoking. I am beyond curious to read their latest, about a graduate student who is also a slime mold and visits Earth to do fieldwork in ancient Pompeii.

→ THE OCCIDENTAL BOOK OF THE DEAD by T. Geronimo Johnson (Oct 6): WELCOME TO BRAGGSVILLE was the sharp and darkly funny story of college students who plan a mock lynching as a form of protest, a poorly conceived scheme that goes terribly wrong. I've been eager to see another book from Johnson, and this is going to be a big one: 672 pages about a Black cop, a violent confrontation with a white teenager, and the disputed facts of the highly publicized case.

→ LIFE OUT OF ORDER by Audrey Niffenegger (Oct 6): I have a lot of fondness for THE TIME TRAVELER'S WIFE, which came out back in 2003. The first surprising news of a sequel was announced in 2013, so I was surprised all over again to learn it's finally arriving this fall. While I'm trepidatious, I will definitely be satisfying my curiosity about the life of Alba, the time-traveling daughter of the original couple.

→ OFF THE RESERVATION by Stephen Graham Jones (Oct 13): This is another unexpected (though less surprising) sequel, to the incredible and grisly THE ONLY GOOD INDIANS. This story focuses on different characters, five years after the events of the first book. I'm ready for more disturbing horror, more great dialogue, and more reckoning with the past.

Good Stuff Out There:

→ At Literary Hub, Madelyn Johnson explores how the role of book cover design has changed in the age of social media: "A cover no longer simply needs to communicate genre or tone. It must also construct an identity that a reader of that book can inhabit. If book covers once translated text for their readers, they now operate in reverse: translating readers for their audiences. In this context, the old adage has been inverted from don't judge a book by its cover to judge a reader by the covers on their books.

July Reading Recap

I'm doing so much summer reading!

→ THE LANGUAGE OF LIARS by S.L. Huang: Ro has trained as a Linguist, and he's determined to prove himself by becoming the first in generations to make a jump. The empathic sense of his species, when combined with a deep understanding of languages, allows the rare individual to jump across the galaxy into the body of a Star Eater. That species, so alien in body and mind to Ro's, lives in the vacuum of space and has the unique ability to find and mine the meridian element. Meridian is crucial for every world in the conglomerate, but the Star Eaters and their skills are poorly understood, so the possibility of jumping provides a secret advantage for Ro's small moon against the galaxy's larger powers. Once, the Star Eaters were cruelly exploited, but now they are full members of the conglomerate who participate willingly in meridian mining. Or at least, that's the claim. Ro discovers that this idea, along with so much else he's been taught, may be lies.

This story introduces so many fascinating concepts and explores them all well in a surprisingly small number of pages (about 160). I was immediately drawn in by the focus on linguistics, and thrilled by the continuing language innovations in the story and how important a role these play in the plot. I was also delighted by the alienness of this story without humans, featuring characters who are physically nothing like humans. Huang's skillful writing made me feel immersed in the unfamiliar bodies and worlds. But it was still easy to connect with Ro as a character, because Huang wisely gives him recognizable personality traits and flaws. This is a wildly creative and clever novella, and I recommend it to science fiction fans, especially those interested in language.

→ FOUNDLING FATHERS by Meg Elison: Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and John Adams are teenage brothers growing increasingly curious about the world beyond their secluded island. They've been taught about the new nation of America and every scientific innovation of the 18th century, but they've never been permitted to see more of the world. Then one fateful day, the brothers find a mysterious device that shows far more of the world than they're prepared for, including the revelation that the year is 2026. While they make plans to confront their mother with this information, the Antediluvian Society meets to discuss when to introduce their family of clones to modern America and get the country back on the right track.

This entertaining novella establishes its tone immediately with an opening line about Benjamin Franklin discovering internet porn. From there, it's a wild and bawdy ride that speeds right along. Well-handled POV shifts offer the perspectives of the naive clones as well as the informed adults, with appropriate diction for each. I expected the story to play out over a longer period of time than it does, but what's here fun to read, and Elison clearly had fun developing the absurd premise of a new American experiment gone wrong.

→ SANDWICH by Catherine Newman: For twenty years, Rocky and her family have been renting the same house on Cape Cod for a week every summer. Her kids are now young adults living away from home, so spending this time together brings Rocky a special joy. It also brings on memories of every past vacation, all the laughter and tantrums and fights with her husband and love, and the painful memories of long-ago pregnancy loss. As the family visits their favorite spots on the Cape, Rocky deals with her memories, with menopause symptoms, with her children's adult drama, and with the health of her elderly parents.

I enjoyed the balance of breezy summer read and thoughtful family story in this novel. The humor worked for me, and I laughed often at the family conversations and Rocky's commentary. It was great to see writing about menopause that's both frank and funny. The dynamics between the characters, especially the conflicts, felt realistic and sometimes familiar. There's not much to the plot, and it took a little time for me to adjust my expectations to the slice-of-life style, but I was content to hang out with Rocky's family, and I may continue on to the sequel, WRECK.

Complexities

I recently read a wondrously creative scifi novella, THE LANGUAGE OF LIARS by S.L. Huang. I loved it, and that detailed recommendation will be included in my next monthly roundup. Even past the end of the story, a sentence appeared that resonated with me. In the book's acknowledgments, Huang writes, "This book had such tight complexities that I sometimes despaired I could ever make its many fragile gears fit."

This puts into words exactly what I'm struggling with most every writing day. Yes, tight complexities! Yes, fragile gears! Yes, despair, so much despair! It's inspiring, of course, to recognize that Huang made it through the same struggle as me with the parts successfully assembled into a great story. So did all the other authors of all the other books I love for their clever intricacies. Inspiring, but it doesn't solve any of my self-inflicted novel problems.

I've given myself so many challenges with this story: the future setting, the invented technologies, the amount of science in this fiction, the number of characters, and the several plotlines that need to intersect and affect each other. It's way too much, really, and I've had to scale some of it back, but if I remove too many pieces, it all falls apart. Decisions and changes in one area create repercussions elsewhere, and I keep thinking up new questions and ideas that make me want to rethink everything. Particularly my choice to write this novel, or any novel.

But I persist. Because abandoning this novel would surely pain me more than continuing. And because the difficulty level of the complexities is what excites me about the story and makes me believe it's worth finishing. And because, despite all the despair, I must enjoy doing this work, since there are zero outside forces driving me.

Sometimes, though, I do fantasize about setting this novel aside for a while and turning to a more manageable one that I could complete first. Something simpler, maybe something about... time travel. Then I sigh at myself and get back to work.

June Reading Recap

Someday I'll write another blog post that isn't book reviews, but for now, I once again have so many books to talk about!

→ In the world of SUBLIMATION by Isabel J. Kim, throughout history, whenever people migrate, they might leave behind a duplicate version of themselves. At the moment of instancing, the selves are identical, but from that point, each instance develops separately. Soyoung was ten years old when her mother decided the two of them should leave Korea and move to America, and they both split at the border. Consequently, Soyoung stayed in Seoul to grow up surrounded by Korean family and culture. Meanwhile, her instance took on the name Rose, acculturated to the US, and eventually became a New Yorker. After their grandfather dies, Soyoung asks Rose to travel to Seoul for the funeral. The instances meet for the first time in a reunion that raises questions about their futures. The possibilities become more complicated with the announcement of an instancing technology that may have global implications.

This is an inventive work of speculative fiction that succeeds at character, plot, and worldbuilding. I was engrossed from the beginning by the premise and the personal stakes of Soyoung and Rose's situation, then thrilled by the way the story gradually expands outward. By the end, the plot is action-packed, but there's still a strong emotional core. Kim has imagined many logistical details around instancing and presents these in fascinating ways, especially through the use of alternate versions of old texts. (For example, in this world, Odysseus left an instance back in Ithaca when he set out for Troy.) I'm excited to recommend this book widely, read more of Kim's many short stories, and continue following her career.

→ WHISTLER by Ann Patchett: When Daphne is middle-aged, she reunites by chance with Eddie, who was her stepfather only briefly, when she was nine years old. Daphne and her sister adored Eddie, and he made their life better during the short period he was in her life, but then their mother abruptly divorced him. Daphne never understood why, though it seemed connected to an accident that Daphne and Eddie were in together. She's overjoyed to have him back in her life, and as they quickly reestablish the bond created by their shared experience, Daphne can finally ask for details about what happened all those decades ago.

Patchett excels at writing about complicated family relationships with believable specificity, and this story is full of terrific examples. The center of the novel is Daphne's unique connection to Eddie, first as a child and then as an adult. But along the way, Patchett also develops Daphne's relationships with the rest of her parents, her sister, and her husband, explores Daphne's own experience as a stepparent, and shows a variety of other marriages and family ties. I was captivated by all of it, and I went through a range of emotions with this story, including a lot of laughter. Another delight from one of my favorite authors!

→ THE NIGHT SWEEPS THE MOUNTAINS AWAY by Tanvir Ahmed: In a desert town, Sado makes his living as a water carrier and keeps his past to himself. When he meets Mina, he recognizes a tattoo that marks her as a fellow exile from a failed rebellion. Mina lives a reclusive life, but she gradually opens up to Sado, telling stories of her marriage to a dangerous man. She tries to make Sado understand why she is also dangerous, and yet he falls in love with her, despite the curse she carries.

This compact novella drew me right in with its smooth storytelling. I was rooting for Sado and Mina to have a chance at happiness by overcoming the dark forces they face. Ahmed's evocative descriptions, informed by his background as a scholar of medieval Islamic history, bring the setting to life. This is a beautiful, haunting tale.

→ YESTERYEAR by Caro Claire Burke: Natalie has constructed the perfect life for herself, and she shares it daily with her millions of followers. At Yesteryear Ranch, she and her husband raise their expanding brood of children on homegrown food and traditional Christian values. Of course they're aided by modern appliances, farmhands, and a couple of nannies, because Natalie is less concerned with following a traditional lifestyle than with creating a polished and lucrative online brand. But one day, she wakes to find herself apparently transported to the 1850s, somehow trapped in a pioneer version of her life. She doesn't understand if she's time-traveled into this nightmare, been kidnapped into a horrific reality show, or what, but she's desperate to figure it out and escape.

This is a great concept, and I appreciated that the story is more complicated (and much darker) than that basic premise, but a lot of it didn't end up working for me. Since the book's structure alternates chapters of Natalie in the pioneer world with the backstory of how she became a tradwife influencer, I was often impatient about having to switch away from the more compelling mystery, and both timelines felt too slow to develop. There is eventually an answer to the question of what's happened, and while it's sort of clever, I didn't think it was set up plausibly enough. Where the book succeeded best for me was Natalie's character and voice, and how the narrative continually changes our understanding of her as the story goes on. Despite my complaints about the structure, I found the writing good at a sentence and scene level, and I'll be interested in reading whatever Burke writes next.

→ THE RIDE OF HER LIFE by Elizabeth Letts is a biography of Annie Wilkins, who decided in 1954 to journey across the United States on horseback, or die trying. Annie was in her early 60s, in poor health, with no family left except her loyal dog, and she no longer had the money or energy to run her farm in Maine. Faced with the prospect of ending life in a charity home, Annie chose to seize her own destiny instead. She bought a horse and set out with her dog and the dream of reaching California, and not much plan beyond that. Her journey was made possible by her determination, the generosity of strangers, publicity from the media, and plenty of luck.

This was a book club pick that I never would have read on my own, and though I did become engaged in the drama of Annie's journey with her animal companions, I would have preferred reading about it in a different form. Letts did extensive research that fills in details of the places Annie passed through and the people she met, as well as context about how America was changing in the 1950s. While some of that is interesting, it's not really what I was curious about. And these reported sections sit oddly against the scenes Letts depicts novelistically, describing thoughts and actions that couldn't possibly be verified. At the end of the book, I learned Letts drew heavily on Annie's memoir, LAST OF THE SADDLE TRAMPS, and I was sorry I didn't get the story from the perspective of the person who lived it. Letts also drops the revelation that she chose to call her subject Annie, "instead of the name she called herself, Mesannie," and that doesn't sit right with me.

Good Stuff Out There:

→ Lincoln Michel makes the case for why There Are More than Five POVs: "It's not that the categories are wrong exactly. But they are rooted more in grammar than narrative. Grammatically, 'I' and 'we' are both first-person pronouns. Narratively, there is a dramatic difference between an 'I' narrator and a collective 'we' narrative voice. An I is a single character and the story is limited to one perspective. A we is a group, which can provide a plethora of perspectives or else a sort of consensus chorus perspective. That opens up entirely different storytelling opportunities and restrictions."

May Reading Recap

My May was packed with books:

→ SPENT by Alison Bechdel is a delightful self-parody of Bechdel's previous work, focused on the contradictions of existing in late-stage capitalism. The main character of this comic (in both senses) novel is Alison Bechdel, a cartoonist best known for the strip Lesbian PETA Members to Watch Out For and the graphic memoir Death & Taxidermy. Alison's memoir has been adapted into a successful prestige TV series that she doesn't enjoy watching, though she does enjoy the financial comfort it provides. She and her wife, Holly, have been able to buy a farm in Vermont where they raise goats and pursue their artistic careers. But life in 2022 has proved too distracting for Alison to complete her next project, a memoir about money called $um: An Accounting, and funds are getting tight. In case this all isn't meta enough, Alison and Holly's friends are a household of characters who will be familiar to readers of the real Bechdel's Dykes to Watch Out For.

I had so much fun with this, and I definitely recommend it to Bechdel fans. Readers with no prior knowledge will miss out on some of what charmed me, but can probably still find much to appreciate in the characters and their adventures. The story deals with relationships (including polyamory), money, activism, and other concerns of the current era, from the perspectives of both middle-aged Alison and friends, and a group of younger characters. I love Bechdel's drawings, especially the small details and visual jokes in the panel backgrounds.

→ PLATFORM DECAY by Martha Wells: In the eighth installment of the Murderbot Diaries, SecUnit has to travel through a gigantic space structure that's somehow even worse than a planet. It's there to rescue a family unit—a child, parent, and grandparent—who prove themselves to be good teammates when the mission keeps growing more complicated. As the group stays ahead of the corporates who want them dead, they navigate a variety of unusual settings, often thwarted by incompatible or nonexistent mass transit systems.

I continue to love this series, and I recommend any interested readers start at the beginning. I enjoyed rereading all the previous books over the past half year, and I was glad to have the context fresh in my mind for this new story, which builds on everything SecUnit has already been through. That includes a lot of trauma, which it's now starting to get help processing. There are some new disturbing events in this book, but overall, it's a fun adventure.

→ RADIANT STAR by Ann Leckie: In the city of Ooioiaa, worship of the Radiant Star plays a prominent role, though rival sects follow different practices. Even thirty years after ships from the Radchaai arrived to occupy the planet, the local religion continues to thrive. When one of the most powerful residents of Ooioiaa decides he'd like to dedicate his afterlife to the Radiant Star by becoming a saint, it sets in motion a series of events involving his family members, religious leaders, and others. And when a far-away conflict disrupts communication and shipments to the planet, a more dire crisis develops.

This is an unusual, complicated story about characters who are preoccupied with their personal concerns while a global crisis unfolds around them. As always in an Ann Leckie novel, the characters are distinctive, they inhabit fully imagined cultures, and there's plenty of focus on what's considered proper behavior within each culture. This novel also features a particularly inventive setting and evocative depictions of food. I was curious about all of it, but I didn't connect with the story as quickly or fully as with the rest of Leckie's work, I think because so many of the characters are deliberately unsympathetic. It's still an impressive book that I'll be interested to discuss with other readers.

→ THE DEVIL IN SILVER by Victor LaValle: After Pepper gets into an altercation with the police, he's committed involuntarily to a mental hospital. There's nothing wrong with Pepper's mental health besides some poor judgment, but once confined and drugged, he finds it impossible to convince anyone of his sanity. This situation is horrific enough, but what's even more terrifying is that Pepper believes a monster is stalking the hospital halls. Other patients believe in the monster as well, though the staff refuse to acknowledge it. Gradually Pepper finds allies in his quest to prove the monster is real, or to simply escape.

This is a good story that I thought took too long to get going. Pepper and the other characters are great, and I enjoyed the wry humor of the narration, but I was impatient with the slow pace. LaValle has adapted the story for TV (season 3 of the anthology series The Terror), and I'm eager to watch—I expect the show moves more quickly. I preferred LaValle's balancing of mundane and supernatural horrors in his more recent novels, THE CHANGELING and LONE WOMEN.

→ ATMOSPHERE by Taylor Jenkins Reid opens in 1984 as astronaut Joan arrives at Mission Control to serve as CAPCOM for a shuttle mission already in progress. The crew members are all people she's formed close relationships with over the past few years of training and missions. When disaster strikes, it's up to Joan to provide a calm voice at the other end of the line for Vanessa, the crew member who's closest to her heart. The narrative then jumps back to the start of Joan's time with NASA, to show how the relationships with her fellow astronauts evolved.

This novel has many compelling elements, but they could have been assembled into a better whole. I enjoyed all the details about astronaut training and the shuttle program. I was invested in Joan's experiences with friendship, family, and falling in love, but while I found certain scenes emotionally moving, many were marred by clunky dialogue or implausible reactions. The novel's structure also creates some pacing problems, and I felt as though certain sections were mostly fillers to pass the time until the next inevitable and more interesting event occurred.

Good Stuff Out There:

→ At Reactor, Leah Thomas ponders the therapeutic power of Katamari Damacy: "Of course, we could all clean up our houses instead of playing, and find our lives better served: 'You don’t need cleaning in a video game, son: we have cleaning at home!' But that's not the point. The point is that even the dullest, simplest chores in life can be reimagined and transformed into something playful.""

April Reading Recap

Another month, and another batch of fascinating books!

→ NONESUCH by Francis Spufford: Iris is a modern young women living in London in 1939, as the threat of war looms. She works in a stockbroker's office, but the only role she's allowed there is secretary, though she aspires to more. She's happily single, and happily not a good girl, dating men who treat her to illicit nights in fancy hotel rooms. When Iris goes home with a terribly innocent young man, she knows there will be trouble, but she's expecting lovesick moping. Instead, the trouble that comes her way is an inexplicable menace. As the war begins and London prepares for rationing and attacks, Iris finds herself facing a dark magic, wielded by a mysterious order with fascist tendencies. Though she's fed up by having to deal with any of it, she's determined to do her part.

This is a compelling mix of historical and magical fiction, animated by a delightfully multifaceted protagonist. Iris is opinionated, clever, competent, and flawed. I loved following her through all the story's adventures, and through her, getting to know the other well-developed characters. The book starts out more historical than magical, portraying Iris's reality in rich and fascinating detail. The magical layer grows more complicated and dangerous along with the mounting horrors of life during the Blitz, and both layers are engrossing. I'm as excited about recommending this novel as Spufford's previous, and very different, CAHOKIA JAZZ.

NONESUCH will be followed by a sequel, ARCADY, expected in 2027. This first book reaches a conclusion for one part of Iris's story, but leaves her at a point of more uncertainty.

→ CHERRY BABY by Rainbow Rowell: Cherry has been separated from her husband for long enough that she's ready to move past grieving her marriage and have fun again. Fun appears in a chance meeting with Russ, a college friend who Cherry always had a crush on. To Cherry's surprise, Russ reveals that he always lusted for her as well, and things get more fun from there. An additional wonderful surprise is that Russ doesn't know anything about the uncomfortably popular, uncomfortably autobiographical comic drawn by Cherry's ex, Tom. But with a movie adaptation of the comic coming soon, Tom and his characters are showing up everywhere Cherry turns, complicating even her promising new relationship.

This novel is all about how complicated relationships of every kind are, and Rowell does an excellent job developing characters and situations that are realistically messy. It takes a little time to reveal much of the messiness, and early on, I was less interested, but once the story pulled me in, I tore through the rest of the book. This is also a book about how complicated it is to be fat in the era of GLP-1 drugs, and that had me interested and appreciative from the start. I recommend this satisfying, thoughtful, and often funny relationship story.

→ KIN by Tayari Jones: Vernice and Annie have been friends since they were infants together in a small Louisiana town, both motherless. Niecy's mother is dead, so there's a tragic finality to the grief that Niecy grows up with. Annie's mother ran off, and her status is unknown, leaving Annie always wondering and longing. As the girls come of age, they know that being Black women in the Jim Crow South presents many constraints, but both have ambitions. Niecy enrolls at Spelman College in Atlanta, where she encounters wealthy Black families living in a comfort she never knew to dream of. Annie heads for Memphis, where she believes her mother may be living, and her adventures take her into far less elevated circumstances.

This novel has received high praise from most of its readers, but my feelings were more mixed. Jones brings the historical setting to life, with strong portrayals of different areas of the South, different class experiences, and the racism and activism of the time. I didn't always find the characters as vividly lifelike as I hoped. At times, their actions (or lack of action) felt more motivated by plot needs than by realistic behavior. I was also disappointed by how the book ends, though other readers found it more emotionally resonant.

→ THE LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS by Ursula K. Le Guin: As an envoy to the planet of Gethen, Genly Ai is tasked with convincing the world's governments to join the alliance of the Ekumen. But even after two years on Gethen, he hasn't figured out the politics and people well enough to make progress, or adapted to the frigid climate. Genly especially has trouble reconciling his Terran understanding of men and women with the Gethenians, who have no biological or cultural gender distinction except during the monthly fertile period. His limitations and misunderstandings leave him vulnerable when his only advocate in one of the dominant nations falls out of favor. Genly leaves the capital city to seek knowledge and allies elsewhere. In time, his task becomes more perilous as he faces grave danger, from cruel governments and from the deadly cold.

I first read this 20 years ago, but remembered very little, and it was fascinating to revisit now that I'm familiar with more of Le Guin's work, which gave me greater context for and appreciation of the story. The worldbuilding and politics are dense, and I didn't mind that too much, but I found the story more absorbing in the second half. The events that form the emotional core of the novel don't emerge until late, and I was shocked by how late as I reread, since that's the part that lasted in my memory, so I thought it was the main scope of the book.

I read this with my book club, and it led to a great discussion. Some supplemental material also enhanced my reading experience:

→ "Is Gender Necessary? Redux", a 1976 essay by Le Guin with 1988 updates that can be read side-by-side or inline

→ Afterword to the 2019 edition by Charlie Jane Anders

→ Clarification about a confusing typo on the novel's final page (spoiler alert!)

→ "Coming of Age in Karhide", a 1995 story by Le Guin that focuses on domestic life on Gethen

The Future Is Now

Once upon a time, I spent many long years working on a now-abandoned multigenerational family novel with storylines set in three time periods. I knew the date of every scene, and those dates were all locked together by the timeline of both the fictional family and real world events. One setting was pure history as far as I was concerned, one was a recent past that I'd lived through, and one was the near future. When I wrote the first draft in 2007, the familiar past era was closer than the imagined future. As I embarked on repeated revisions, on and off for more than a decade, the near future setting grew nearer and nearer. The year it took place (you can guess where this is going) was 2026.

It's a little strange to be in 2026 for real now, after spending so much time in my fictional version. (Of course, existing in 2026 is strange enough on its own.) But the strangeness is mainly numerical, and not from writing any vividly bold predictions about what life might be like now. In early drafts, most of my worldbuilding extrapolated from technologies I thought were cutting-edge. That tended to mean I accurately predicted how those technologies would be used about 18 months out, often before I finished a given draft. As my actual timeline barreled toward my near future, I gave up on any science fictional inclinations.

The major worldbuilding in my 2026 storyline was about a significant earthquake striking the Bay Area, something I never wanted to be predictive about. (But to make sure I'm not psychic, for the record: November 4, 7.5 on the Hayward Fault.) I also wrote the almost-throwaway but important-to-me line "The president was on her way to Oakland" way back before there was any particular woman (from Oakland, no less) who I hoped would be in the White House now. Sorry this game isn't more fun!

Anyway, that novel hasn't been in play for a long while, for many reasons, and that is even less likely to change in a future that's become its past. I only bring it up again to commemorate the weird space 2026 occupies in my writerly mind. And as a cautionary tale for other slow writers planning stories set at a particular point in the near future.

At present, I'm applying my slow writing to a different project. It's the novel my recent blog posts refer to, for some value of "recent" and "refer". I know I haven't said anything about it for months, and I've never shared many details. (Another thing that's strange is having a decade of blog posts about a novel that never went anywhere.) But I've been working steadily away, writing sentences and scenes that may eventually cohere into a finished novel.

This one is set entirely in the future. I've repeated the possible mistake of specifying a year, but I think I'm safe for not catching up this time, since the year is 2132. Spending imaginary time in that farther-out future is fun, and challenging, and definitely requires more meticulous extrapolations than I've ever made before. Not that I'm honestly trying to predict what I think the world of 2132 will be like. As Ursula K. Le Guin wrote in an often-echoed sentiment, "Science fiction is not predictive; it is descriptive." She wrote more about the idea than just the pithy sentiment, and I recommend the rest of her 1976 Author's Note to THE LEFT HAND OF DARKNESS.

I reread Le Guin's classic novel this month, and my book club had a wonderful conversation about it. Also in April, I turned 51 and had some delicious birthday celebrations, including a cake that I enjoyed baking. I got to show the world the sweater I've been knitting since last summer. And early in the month, early in the morning, I was woken up by a nearby earthquake that didn't result in anything besides the rude awakening. That can be my quake for 2026, thanks.

Good Stuff Out There:

→ At Literary Hub, Miranda Shulman describes What Knitting Has Taught Me About Writing: "When I say that every stitch, every word, is progress, I mean that every stitch, every word, is a valuable learning experience, not that they are permanent. When I'm knitting, I'm often following a complicated pattern translated from Dutch to English. It usually takes a few tries to understand what's being asked of me, and if I'm knitting in a dark room (like a movie theater or a dimly lit restaurant) I'll probably make a mistake. Then again, when I'm knitting on my couch at home, I'll also probably make a mistake. There's no way to knit a sweater faster than the time it takes to create the right stitches and understand the pattern. You have to make all the mistakes and be okay with re-doing it until it’s right. That's the process of making. That's dedication to craft. That's discovery."

March Reading Recap

I've still been reading away, enjoying an excellent selection of books:

→ THE SHAMSHINE BLIND by Paz Pardo: Agent Kay Curtida of the Psychopigment Enforcement Agency is investigating a strain of counterfeit Sunshine Yellow pills. This "Shamshine" has infiltrated the local market, causing harm to Depressives who need the real medication. Curtida is glad to have a case with potential for once, because the criminal underworld operating in Daly City and the ruins of San Francisco is small-time compared to the big cities of Boise or Iowa City. (The US's previous big cities were destroyed almost 30 years earlier, when the Falklands Conflict escalated to a world war and Argentina became the dominant superpower through the use of weaponized psychopigments.) But Curtida is out of leads to follow, so she has to turn her attention to a minor case of suicide at a psychopigment pharmaceutical company. As the new investigation continues, she discovers the death involves an unusual pigment she's never seen before, and that this case is more complicated, and more sinister, than it initially seemed.

I was so impressed by the imaginative worldbuilding and well-paced plotting of this speculative detective story. Pardo has constructed such a fascinating world, between the color-based drugs that control emotions and the alternate history that reshapes politics and culture. Details of this world are dispensed gradually, at points that work naturally in the story, as when Curtida listens to the radio while driving around following leads. Curtida is an excellent character who narrates with a distinctive spin on the hardboiled detective style. Her fellow agents and the other characters are great as well, and there's plenty of real emotion in this story where feelings are sometimes manufactured by psychopigments. If you're at all curious about this literally colorful noir novel, I hope you'll check it out.

→ GOOD PEOPLE by Patmeena Sabit is presented as excerpts from a series of interviews conducted with friends and acquaintances of the Sharaf family, or witnesses who encountered them during a significant weekend. The family and the events of that weekend are under investigation by law enforcement, but the reason is kept as a mystery from the reader at first. Before understanding what's happened, we learn about the lives of the Sharafs in the years before. As a young family, they arrived in Virgina as refugees from Afghanistan. The local Afghani community helped them out through hard times, and eventually they thrived, earning a level of wealth that brought envy and scrutiny. The family is close-knit, but there's been trouble with the teenage daughter, who chafes against the strictures of her parents' traditional Muslim expectations. All this background comes into play in understanding the tragic events that are eventually revealed, explained, and then reinterpreted.

This engrossing, carefully constructed novel kept me guessing and pondering. Every time I planned to read just a few of the short chapters, I found it hard to stop. Sabit brings the voices of the interviewees to life, giving the characters distinctive speech patterns and concerns. The scenario is full of ambiguity, and each new perspective nudges the reader's understanding one way, then another, to great effect. There are no clear answers here, but much to think about, and this would be a great book to discuss with a group.

→ ALL THE WORLD CAN HOLD by Jung Yun: September 16, 2001, is a strange time to board a cruise ship, but with travel plans made long in advance, the passengers in this novel embark on a trip to Bermuda. The story follows three characters who all start out feeling conflicted about trying to enjoy themselves during such a terrible time, and who all have personal dramas that keep them from enjoying themselves anyway. Franny is determined to follow through on celebrating her mother's seventieth birthday, with all the traditional trappings of a Korean chilsun, whether or not the rest of the family agrees. Doug, once an actor in a show filmed on this very ship, is appearing as a celebrity because he needs the money, but he has no desire to be back at the site of his drunken past. Lucy was invited on the cruise as a last-minute replacement, but she's afraid she made a mistake in accepting for so many reasons, including that she's supposed to be interviewing for jobs this week. As the cruise's regular schedule of festivities proceeds, the characters grapple with their own concerns, aware of how cut off they are from news of much larger misfortunes.

I was intrigued by the setup of this novel (inspired by the author's real experience) though unsure what to expect. But it didn't take me long to get invested in all three characters and their problems. There's complexity and surprise to how the storylines develop. At times, the story could have been about any cruise, but that felt realistic to the circumstances. Whenever the context of 9/11 returned to the forefront, I found it thoughtfully handled. I liked the writing and the character portrayals, and I may check out Yun's previous novels.

→ LAKE EFFECT by Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney opens in 1977 in a well-to-do neighborhood in Rochester, New York. The Larkins and the Finnegans live across the street from each other, and the families are close, each with two teenage children who grew up as friends. Also, Nina Larkin and Finn Finnegan are having an affair. When Nina and Finn decide to take steps to bring their relationship out into the open, they know it will shake up the lives of their families. But they aren't prepared for just how many relationships will be torn apart. Two decades later, there are still more consequences to reckon with.

Sweeney is always skilled at writing about family relationships, and this novel is another strong exploration of characters with complicated and shifting dynamics. Every Larkin and Finnegan family member spends some chapters as a viewpoint character, revealing secrets and grudges that the others don't know about. Not everyone gets the same amount of page time, and I was sorry not to follow some characters in more depth, especially after the time jump. So I would have been happy for a longer version of this novel, but I enjoyed all the story threads and scenes that appear in this one.

Good Stuff Out There:

→ Lois Lowry is publishing a new dystopian YA novel this fall, as reported in an interview with People: "For Lowry, this book felt necessary to write for the same reason The Giver's themes — and the themes in Building 903 — resonate so strongly with readers today. 'These are tough times that we live in, with lots of questions about the future,' she tells PEOPLE. 'I'm extremely old, so I lament the fact that I'm not gonna be around to see how this turns out. However, my imagination does that for me.'" (Thanks, Book Riot!)