Metallic_Sweet

Books I Finished

Molka by Monika Kim

This is an unsettling and occasionally disgusting horror novel centred around molka, hidden cameras used to secretly collect pornographic images of women without their consent. While this isn’t a new phenomenon, molka and secret camera use has become much more prevalent in the digital age, particularly in South Korea and Japan. This story centres around two characters: Dahye, a young office worker currently secretly dating a company heir, and Junyoung, an IT technician at her office. Junyoung’s office-wide network of molka give him a sense of power over others, and Dahye hopes her secret relationship will finally allow her to move away from her parents and childhood bedroom, which is also a timelocked shrine to her deceased older sister.

I really liked the pacing of this novel. There’s very little wasted space aside from the reveal regarding Dahye’s boyfriend taking a bit too long when it could be seen a mile away. There’s a firm element of claustrophobia arising from the limited POVs and the constant feeling of being watched by not just molka but by society and the characters engaging in self-surveilling themselves. I also loved the supernatural element to this, which bumped up the rating at least a full star for me. I really suggest this book as one the reader goes into with only basic knowledge as its twists and turns become much more exciting as it progresses.

I have mixed feelings about how the POVs were handled in this. Junyoung at times outshines Dahye, particularly in the first quarter of the book where Dahye is largely innocent of the larger forces at play. Unlike Kim’s first novel, which was a complex family drama, side characters are flat and function as archetypes of common people in South Korean society. This novel comes off as an extended modern parable that hits the majority of its points but occasionally misses the mark when they involve those basic side characters. Overall, this is one of the best horror books I’ve read this year, and I could easily see it made into a successful movie.

Rating: ★★★★☆
 

The Unmagical Life of Briar Jones by Lex Croucher

I received this as an ARC through a Goodreads giveaway (and this review is copied there). This is a solidly written, somewhat nostalgic in tone dark academia fantasy in the burgeoning magical school genre. The twist here is the main character, Briar Jones, is not magical nor a student at the school. They take a temporary manual labour position at the Temple School of Thaumaturgy during their gap year before starting normal university, partly to satisfy their childhood desire to attend Temple and also because they don’t particularly want to go to university. Briar is a relatable protagonist in a fairly unrelatable atmosphere, and the story centres upon the mysteries of Temple and Briar’s unresolved relationship with Sebastian Wolfe, commonly either called Seb or Bastian, their former childhood best friend and, in many ways except formality, soulmate.

Overall, this book’s strengths are in creating strong, interesting characters and the tension generated by Briar and Seb’s broken relationship. Briar, despite being technically a staff member at Temple, quickly becomes absorbed into a student group of misfits and outsiders, and they’re immediately horrified by the sadistic and abusive social life and initiation rituals of Temple. The best social commentary is on systemic bullying and abuse of power, both by status in larger society as well as with magic, here referred to as the Work. Things escalate quickly, and Briar is forced to examine their own morality and what they really want out of their time at Temple.

This book makes very liberal use of the tropes “adults are useless” and “power corrupts”, but it lacks bite on its social commentary due to no one older or younger than Briar and Co. having much character development, and the plethora of side characters feel largely irrelevant to the plot. Most of the book is spent at Temple, which is very isolated from the outside world, so the information we learn about the Work in wider society is spoonfed via dialogue to the reader. I also never bought into the idea that Briar, while they’re the same age as the final year Temple students, would be allowed to be so friendly with them as a temporary worker, attending house parties and turning up to work hungover and moody what felt like the majority of the time. I never felt very close to any of the other characters aside from Briar, Seb, and Westby, since everyone else felt distinctly like they’re meant to serve a plot purpose, particularly Hadley and Alistar. In a way, the “unmagical” part of the title is the best way to describe the overarching plot for better and for worse.

Rating: ★★★☆☆


A Long and Speaking Silence by Nghi Vo

This is a lovely adventure of Cleric Chih and Almost Brilliant in a novella series rich in mythology and imagery. This story takes place very early in Chih’s career as they work at a restaurant to pay off a minor debt after they lost their purse during the lead up to Lutien’s annual festival at the start of the rainy season. As with other entries in this series, Chih works to collect stories and legends from the people she encounters and inevitably becomes embroiled in solving a minor crisis. Vo’s excellent prose breathes life into both the main story and the ones Chih collects.

Much of the conflict in this arises from the arrival of refugees from an ongoing war and local hostility towards foreigners. This part of the story was particularly compelling. While it takes place in a fairly short amount of words, it offers a lot of emotional impact through true to life details and surprisingly well-developed characters. Mixing family drama and poignant insights into the difficulties of being outsiders in an established society, Vo strikes an excellent balance between parable and on the nose social commentary.

The stories that Chih and Almost Brilliant collect are shorter than in some of the previous novellas and are tied to how similar yet different legends and tales can be across different geographies and social backgrounds. I didn’t find these to be as compelling as the main action but completely understood their function. Overall, this was yet another good standalone outing for this beloved pair, and it was really fun to see Chih earlier on in their career.

Rating: ★★★☆☆
 

The Girl with a Thousand Faces by Sunyi Dean

This is a really enjoyable standalone novel that follows Mercy Chen, a middle-aged ghost talker who washed up in Victoria Harbor during WWII as a young woman with only her name cut into her arm and no memory of her life before. While this is marketed as a gothic tale, I would argue that this is a Chinese ghost story very much in the vein of that specific Chinese subgenre with gods, demons, and spirits all at play. Dean weaves the story of three women whose fates become entwined due to a mysterious and tragic drowning incident in the 1920s.

I have given this an extra half-star for its informed and compelling portrayal of Hong Kong during the Japanese occupation in WWII as this is rarely accessible in English, let alone told from the complex Hong Kong perspective. It was of particular pleasure to read about the resistance efforts in Hong Kong through the lens of resistance fighters as I have rarely seen in an English language publication. Dean’s Hong Kong is lusciously detailed, making great use of iconic HK geography and landmarks, and is full of compelling, complex characters both human and supernatural.

Dean makes some interesting and occasionally confusing choices in narrative perspective to distinguish her narrating characters. This works for most of the book, but the final third has multiple sections where the perspectives rapidly shift between each other, creating a frenetic, confusing reading experience that detracts from the impact of the climax. I also have mixed feelings about how the second half of the book is essentially a generational family drama that I didn’t always feel invested in. Overall, I think this book does a great job with telling a compelling ghost story but doesn’t entirely stick the landing.

Rating: ★★★½☆


The Eye of the Bedlam Bride and This Inevitable Ruin by Matt Dinniman

The chaos and drama of this series continues! With these two installments, both gigantic in their word count, Dinniman goes all in on the galactic politics and powerplays between massive intergalactic companies and dysfunctional leadership. At the same time, the main story still focuses primarily on Carl and Donut, who both remain excellent protagonists in a madcap and increasingly chaotic LitRPG series. The cast of secondary characters is massive and, overall, rewarding to readers who have kept up with the series.

Dinniman really shines as a writer and storyteller in Bedlam Bride, which drills heavily down into Carl’s mentality and his background and broken family while pushing Donut into situations where she has to step to the fore and demonstrate actual leadership and her own brand of taking responsibility. This is a long time coming as Carl has had steady and consistent character growth, but Donut has occasionally faded into the background to make that happen. I personally really liked the card game mechanic of the floor and the new characters who were introduced felt like they were relevant to the story and brought a lot of new elements into play. This was one of the better paced and edited entries in the series, despite the increasing introduction of other POVs aside from Carl and Donut. I also loved the two "villains" of this book, both unhinged female characters who presented very different challenges for our heroes. 

This Inevitable Ruin had a ton of build up to it, as it focuses on the Faction Wars and pulls many of the “outside the dungeon” universe players in. Unfortunately, I felt that this was one of the weaker entries in the series, since the vast majority of the storylines come to a head and have at least partial conclusions here. Many of these transitions and conclusions are satisfying, setting up the trajectory for what is likely the grand finale, likely taking place on the twelfth floor. I personally found the trench warfare segments to be more cliche than usual, particularly because of Carl’s mental commentary, but I am biased on this as a historian whose speciality is WWI. I did, however, absolutely love where this book focused heavily on Donut’s character growth, and I feel like she really grew into her own while strengthening her and Carl’s bond. I also absolutely loved Baroness Victory and look forward to seeing her in the future.

The Eye of the Bedlam Bride rating: ★★★★½

This Inevitable Ruin rating: ★★★½☆


Books I Didn’t Finish

Blood Bound by Ellis Hunter

I just could not get into this. On the surface, this has a lot going for it: witches, demons, dragons, secret identities, interesting side characters. In practice, this felt like a romantasy bingo board mishmash of ideas where no singular character or trope rises above the rest until much too late. Despite tons of action and intrigue from the get-go, I found this surprisingly boring, possibly because so much was going on that it all ended up feeling like nothing mattered. I let this go after struggling to about 100 pages in.

Books I Finished

The Hacienda by Isabel Cañas

This is a good novel by Cañas and a solid debut for her back in 2022. A gothic house story set directly following the Mexican War of Independence, Beatriz is newly wedded to Rodolpho and has moved to his family estate, Hacienda San Isidro. The house has fallen into disrepair during the war, and the staff is reduced, but Beatriz is happy to take on the renovations and make the place her own. Very quickly, the house is revealed to be sinister, and no one around Beatriz, including standoffish Rodolpho’s sister, Juana, and the mysterious Padre Andrés, is exactly who they seem.

I really liked the relationship between Beatriz and Andrés. The circumstances that draw them together to try to solve the haunting of San Isidro make sense: Beatriz wants to be safe and in control in her new home, and Andrés has a family connection to the house and land. The tension between them is doubtlessly romantic, but they are both more focused on their own goals, standing in society, and interpersonal relationships. In a way, this is a story of both of them learning to claim their own identities and agency, even if it goes against the grain.

Cañas’s writing is tight although somewhat simplistic, which supports fast-paced action but leaves some of the environment and side characters behind. The interior of the house is hard to imagine since it’s at once very large yet also very small with most action taking place in a small handful of rooms. Beatriz starts the novel working on the gardens, but this is quickly dropped as the spectral and violent happenings pick up in the house. I didn’t find this book to be particularly scary, rather a good romp with likeable main characters and a satisfying ending.

Rating: ★★★☆☆
 

The Legend of the Nine-Tailed Fox by Katrina Kwan

A spirited East Asian folklore inspired tale in the vein of Kwan’s previous work, The Last Dragon of the East, Yue is a nine-tailed fox spirit who is captured by the famed demon hunter, Sonam. Through a series of unfortunate events, they along with Sonam’s two companions become trapped in Hell where they must face trials set by mercurial gods and, ultimately, their own pasts and faults. This is a focused and not overly complex adventure, action-packed and full of heart and imagination.

At the same time, the pace can be too fast-paced with characters zipping from trial to trial, and I never felt like the characters are truly in danger except when the actual major villain is involved. Most twists and turns can be seen from a mile away, and there’s elements of dungeon crawling through Hell, which only works if tension exists. The POVs switching between Yue and Sonam are pretty well-balanced until that major villain fully comes into play, and then we’re locked into Sonam’s POV to build tension. I felt like the choice weakened Yue’s strong character to make her a more appealing romantic partner.

Throughout the novel there are intermittent chapters that tell a modified version of the Chang’e and Hon Yi folktale and integrates it into the story. I found these short bits to be what I looked forward to the most, and I ended up wishing we could spend more time and detail on them as the information shared there really added to the main story. Overall, this is a nice romp of a book that would be satisfying to younger YA readers or as a vacation read.

Rating: ★★½☆☆
 

Weavingshaw by Heba Al-Wasity

This is Al-Wasity’s debut, a sometimes too ambitious gothic romantasy that speaks to Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, and Reylo. Leena, desperate to obtain an expensive cure for her sick brother, goes to the Saint of Silence, St. Silas, to sell her great secret: she can see and, to a certain extent, communicate with the restless dead. A genre-aware novel that excels in its characters and certain environmental details, it does a great job with the ghosts and Leena being realistically afraid and drawn to their plights. It does rather less well with the awkward political asides that introduce slews of additional characters, end up driving the plot, and in which Leena is almost always off-screen.

For me, the romantic tension between Leena and St. Silas both came out of nowhere and was utterly foreseeable. They function as enemies working together for mutual gain until suddenly they don’t: Leena’s resentment of St. Silas seems to conveniently evaporate and his reserve is peeled back less like layers on an onion and more like it was put in a food processor and rapidly pulsed. I hate to say it, but I felt like St. Silas was gradually woobified, and, predictably, once that began happening, we had to be introduced to a true predator to Leena’s safety. This ends up straddling grimdark and gothic in its details but solidly reads as a toxic romance overall.

I did like the atmosphere of Weavingshaw, and, if I read the next book in the series, I am eager to see Leena return there. I am also interested in the mysteries surrounding Leena’s family, broken and separated first by civil war and then the many disadvantages of being refugees. I liked that relationships between Leena and her surviving family members are fraught and rooted in how trauma and systematic oppression can warp people even when they have the best intentions. Based upon the ending, the next book should deal more deeply with those family issues and possibly offer Leena some character growth not driven by a man. Overall, there’s a lot of meat on the bones of this one, but it could have been longer in the oven.

Rating: ★★½☆☆


Vampires of El Norte by Isabel Cañas

Cañas offers a unique take on the vampire genre, interweaving the Mexican American War and class tension between ranchers and vaqueros. The main characters, Nena and Néstor are childhood friends who were on the cusp of youthful love when they’re attacked by a mysterious creature, giving Nena a seemingly fatal injury and forcing Néstor to flee. When they reunite years later with war on their doorstep, Nena has become a healer but lives with the threat of marriage to a wealthy business partner of her family looming over her head; meanwhile, Néstor has come into his own as a successful and respected vaquero, but he remains haunted by the events of the night back when they were thirteen. Obviously, misunderstandings and many, occasionally convoluted action sequences ensue.

Out of Cañas’s novels, this one has the oddest pacing, especially at the beginning after the opening chapter and midway as Nena and Néstor travel together. While both of these sections are full of tension-building content as Nena and Néstor’s relationship continually shifts, both characters suffer from their inability to say anything straight to each other except when under duress from outside forces. It’s not as frustrating as it could be as either Americans or vampires inevitably appear and get them to move along with their emotional constipation, and I did find the finale to be a good pay off with both characters becoming extremely self-aware.

I really liked how the vampire tropes were played with in this, and I loved the twist in the second half as to why the vampire attacks had so noticeably increased. The twist also gave both Néstor and Nena an opportunity to shine, since they both come with their own knowledge of how to deal with the vampires, and the creatures give them a common enemy even when the two of them are being excessively petty. Cañas also did a great job with the setting in this, using the difficult terrain and hot, intense climate to make the story tangible and immersive. Overall, I enjoyed this, and I’m glad I returned to it after I shelved it a few chapters in a couple years ago.

Rating: ★★★☆☆
 

Cinder House by Freya Marske

This is a truly lovely novella that takes a fun spin with the Cinderella tale. Ella, killed by her stepmother, Patrice, at sixteen along with her father, has become a ghost bound to the house she died in. Only Patrice and her daughters, Greta and Danica, who live in the house, and a fairy in the nearby city named Quaint can see her. For the next six years, Ella learns how to be a ghost and, more importantly, how to push the boundaries of her haunting to gradually leave the house and explore the world around her until she’s forced to return home at the stroke of midnight.

I think what made this retelling really work for me was how Prince Jule’s ball is three evenings long, and each night offers Ella more opportunities to explore his world and get to know him as well as building mystery around the foreign princess Nadia. As this is a novella, every mystery progresses quickly and reveals are made night to night, but it’s well-paced and new twists lead directly to new conclusions. I really enjoyed how Ella grew so much in this section of the novel, like the magic around her helps her in taking control of her own destiny rather than the other way around.

The machinations of Patrice and Greta are refreshingly realistic: Patrice, like many women who have gone through hardship, ultimately seeks security, and Greta serves as an example of what happens to a child who is spoiled rotten. Details are well-spent with the limited space of the novella, and I personally enjoyed the ending, even though it’s a bit self-indulgent. Why not? It’s a fairy tale after all.

Rating: ★★★★★


The Tropic of Serpents by Marie Brennan

Taking place about three years after the first book, we join Isabella as she prepares to go on a new expedition to study dragons, this time to Eriga, a pseudo-African country that is in a precarious political position. Despite itself and even its own protagonist’s desires, this entry in the series has much more to say politically and socially than on the topic of dragons themselves. Some of the commentary and thinly veiled parallels to real world history hits the mark, while others range from eye-rolling to deeply cringe-worthy.

This book shines in its environment details along with the delightful occasional drawing. I absolutely loved the lush descriptions of the various locales and animals encountered in Eriga, which is also why I wished there was more time spent on the dragons. When Isabella gets to actually talk about dragons and certain flora and fauna, her characteristic enthusiasm and raw wonder is infectious and feels very real. She has also grown a great deal from the first book, and the trials and tribulations in this make her continue to grow as a person, as a naturalist, and as a citizen of the world. Her character journey is satisfying, rewarding, and, when focused on the natural world, extremely fun.

Unfortunately, I didn’t enjoy how some of the overarching themes of colonialism and racism were handled. The design of some of the Eriga characters, especially those in authority positions, raised some questions and more than a few eyebrows for me regarding the writer’s own understanding of the cultures being meshed together. There were a lot of important plot points that get wrapped up in the sense of the event itself but have notably wider-reaching consequences. Most of these are in the vein of political turmoil and unrest, which stretches beyond the current boundaries of the first two novels. I rated this three stars because there are a number of threads started here that I am curious to see progress in the next book, but I’m not sure if I’m up for more hamfisted pseudo-Victorian nonsense.

Rating: ★★★☆☆
 

Earthlings by Sayaka Murata

This book is hard to classify: it’s social commentary more than anything else with elements of horror, fantasy, and sci-fi to give structure to the narrative, which is all told through the extremely unreliable lens of the main character, Natsuki. The overall tone is bizarrely light-hearted as Natsuki goes through her life with an increasing amount of detachment and delusion, often utterly alone and only occasionally surrounded by her few supporters: her cousin, Yuu, with whom she has an incestuous relationship with starting in their preteens, and her husband, Tomoya, who she met through a matchmaking website and married based upon his desire for a sexless marriage. Murata’s narrative construction is masterful, dividing the majority of entwined events into two parts: the first in Natsuki’s preteen years, the second during the third year of her marriage.

Natsuki’s upbringing is abusive, particularly from her mother who pits her two daughters against each other and verbally and physically abuses Natsuki. At cram school, Natsuki is sexually abused by a well-liked teacher, and her attempts to seek help are viciously turned back on her by family and friends. It’s distressingly easy to see why Natsuki would spend the majority of her time daydreaming she’s a magician, who will one day be saved by her magical powers or aliens, and how she becomes attached to Yuu, her gentle cousin who is the only person in her life who listens to her and who she only sees once a year when their families visit their grandparents in the mountain village of Akishina. Family, friends, and society routinely fail to meet Natsuki’s needs and push her to try any avenue to defend herself, trying to fulfil the most important promise Yuu and her make: survive at all costs.

None of this happens in isolation: by the time Natsuki and Tomoya are married, they know they’re just cogs in the machine, or, as they call it, the Factory. After the loss of both of their jobs, they go to Akishina where Yuu is temporarily living after also losing his job. The events that pan out from there become progressively more wild and eventually pass beyond the pale, which both enforces and loses some of the message about the tragedy and impossibility of perfect conformity that Murata goes to all lengths to explain. In a weird way, Natsuki could never be anything else but an alien in a world where women are to blame for the mistakes and cruelties of others, and the real question is who is truly responsible for the consequences?

Rating: ★★★★☆
 

Innamorata by Ava Reid

This is Reid’s adult novel debut, a dark gothic fantasy that is essentially a reskinned Gormenghast world populated with morally grey to bankrupt characters. Our main POV character is Agnes, the silent cousin of the current head of the House of Teeth, Marioza. She travels with her cousin to be her companion in her betrothal to Prince Liuprand and to fulfil the mission her grandmother gave her to recover and restore their House’s ancestral magic from the books in the palace library. Once at Castle Peake, Agnes begins swiftly to learn that even the best laid plans go awry: Marioza and Agnes have always been unnaturally close, and Liuprand’s entrance in their carefully balanced lives is the least of their worries.

For all the other reviewers I’ve seen complaining about the lack of content warnings, I’m complaining about how this book does a disservice to Reid’s own strengths. Reid is particularly good at developing complex, morally grey characters and lushly atmospheric settings, which is why I’ve read a number of her books. Unfortunately, Innamorata feels like a repetitively remixed ASOIAF Red Wedding combined with the insular and self-indulgent foundation (and trappings, and character archetypes, etc, etc) of Gormenghast. Subsequently, this book tips beyond darkly gothic into grimdark, which wouldn’t bother me if it was appropriately marketed as such. The inherent grimdark marker of on-screen major taboos is very much present, and the horror waffles from gross to eye-rolling to even cringe-worthy rather than evoking the macabre.

While I did like Agnes as a main character, it’s extremely hard to like literally anything else. I found the most tension-ridden scene to be a birthing sequence in the middle of the book because it is the most focused, making great use of the most interesting characters and finally revealing some of their true functions. The rest of the story is bogged down with too many characters of little consequence and Reid’s verbosity, which is a strength of her other novels but confusing to excruciating here. In the past I’ve forgiven and even praised Reid for how some of her books read like self-indulgent fic of specific literary and pop culture touchstones, but I can’t forgive this messily structured and ultimately boring book.

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆
 

Wolf-Worm by T. Kingfisher

This is an excellent outing by Kingfisher that plays to her strengths: a dynamic, well-crafted main narrator, lush environmental details, and a fairly straightforward plot take allows the linear plot to progress without impediment. The year is 1899 and Sonia Wilson, a scientific illustrator, has just arrived in Chatham, North Carolina, to start her new job for Dr. Halder, who is working on a manuscript about parasitic insects. Sonia is the embodiment of “anxious but managing” and her financial need for this job makes her set aside obvious red flags even as she acknowledges their existence. She’s relatable and, while not fallible, has her heart in the right place, which makes up for Kingfisher’s very modern dialogue for the purported historical setting.

The plot takes a while to get going and doesn’t really pick up until halfway in when there’s a possum incident that is pretty creepy. This didn’t hold my enjoyment of the story back, though, because of all the lush and surprisingly informed detail regarding Harder’s research on insects and Sonia’s own expertise in plants. I also enjoyed the cast of side characters, who felt like the types of folks you probably would meet on a large but oddly depopulated estate. Kingfisher handles racial and post-Reconstruction tensions in a matter of fact manner, and characters are overall more concerned with their day to day lives than overarching issues largely outside of their control. I felt like this worked for the pace and the themes of this book, although I can also see some feeling like it’s too conveniently handled.

The real joy is this is a proper horror book with the parasitic insects truly gross and the danger that builds quietly exploding very satisfyingly. There isn’t a great deal of mystery, but Kingfisher’s descriptions of the parasites’ behaviour and how they affect the host don’t skimp on detail and feel realistic for the circumstances. Sonia’s position as an outsider to the status quo is used to great effect, allowing the reader to discover the various horrors along with her without overly long asides by other characters. Wolf-Worm straddles the burgeoning subgenre of cosy horror without falling into the trap of coddling the reader.

Rating: ★★★★½
 

The Black Hunger by Nicholas Pullen

I had gotten this book for my birthday last year and had tried to start it at least three times before I finally finished it this week. Pullen’s debut is a slow starter, giving vibes of a Dracula meets cannibalistic The Historian horror extravaganza. In my opinion, this is less gothic and more historical horror with much of the narrative hinging upon how the black hunger and the undead have tried to rise to power over the centuries. It’s dense and, particularly for the first half of the book, quite academic for better and for worse.

The story has essentially two narrators: a main narrator with John Sackville, the son of the Earl of Dorset and who is writing his memoirs of his life and love for his manservant,Garrett Benson, from a prison cell; and Dr. Samuel Abravanel, who is a Jewish doctor hired to investigate the madness of a woman he loves but cannot marry, Clara. John’s narration is extremely slow paced as he and Garrett go to Oxford and develop an interest in Buddhism and “the Orient” with great attention paid to long conversations between characters essentially engaging in political and religious dialogue through the Socratic method. While some of this is John’s narrative voice, I’m unsure if Pullen subverted or played into colonial stereotypes, and I also got the impression that he wrote this book because he thinks himself very smart and educated. I felt like I was reading something modern and excessively dated at the same time.

Once Abravanel is introduced, the pace of the story picks up and the horror elements truly begin to take shape. I honestly wish he was the main character and the epistolary elements employed in his section were particularly effective, especially with demonstrating the onset of the black hunger. The details of the demons, dark rituals, and violence were delightful, which thankfully carried over when the story returned to John’s memoir. The finale of the book is chaotic and unbalanced, although it hits its main emotional note well. Overall, this is an uneven novel that seems to have struggled to figure out exactly how it wanted to tell its own story.

Rating: ★★½☆☆


Books I Did Not Finish

The Buffalo Buffalo Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones

This was my second time attempting this book, which I originally thought would be a home run for me. I really, really tried, juggling the very different, often unappealing multiple POVs and their associated timelines. I liked the life-like quality of all of the narrating characters, but I found some of the style of narration to be confusing with deluges of additional characters appearing all at once. I ultimately decided to let this go about a quarter of the way in: the narration introduced the vampiric creature and I actually became less invested.


The Book That Broke the World by Mark Lawrence

I was uncertain if I’d finish this book based on my mixed feelings about the first in the series. In some ways, Lawrence picks up exactly where he left off, but he also adds another set of characters in yet another time period into the equation. While I do like the two new main characters, and this is shorter than the first book, I found we were back to the plodding pace that bogged down the first book but without the mystery of the library to tantalise the reader. I let this go about halfway through because I wasn’t motivated to keep reading.

 
The Bruising of Qilwa by Naseem Jamnia

A queer novella about blood magic, plague, and belonging, this looked like a slamdunk for me. Unfortunately, I found the actual plot around the plague to be pretty dull and a distraction from the complex and dense worldbuilding, which made the plodding pace confusing and unsatisfying. While I know that the plot will pick up after where I left off half way through (it has to, this is a novella after all), I'm not motivated to keep going since what has made me interested is the structure of Qilwa and not the characters themselves. 

Books I Finished

Wicked Onyx by Debbie Cassidy

Yet another entry into the burgeoning Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Magic School romantasy subgenre, Anamaya Onyx, the last member of the disgraced and cursed Onyx family, discovers that the way to potentially lift her curse and discover the truth about her family and herself is to attend Nightbridge Academy where everyone and everything is out to get her and everyone else. Despite the trope-filled set up, this book has a ton of heart and passion that comes out in the sincere enthusiasm of the narrative tone. Yes, it's dark academia, but that doesn't mean Ana can't have fun, and characters are dramatic and hammy in both heroic and villainous ways that got me laughing, cringing, and willing to read more.

This book is very well-paced with the only truly wasted bits being the bizarre introductory chapter that felt like a completely different book and the eye-rolling misadventures in the first half of the book where Ana tries to reject companionship and friendship that those who become her found family readily offer to her. The actual school aspects make little to no sense, and it feels like everyone is in an extended training simulation for the magical Hunger Games. In a book where there's everything from vampires to sea dragons to ghosts, this first book felt appropriately designed to be a set up for the next two with a bunch of entwined misadventures meant to build up various characters and their relationships before really jumping into the overarching mysteries in the second novel. 

Very unusually, I really liked both of the potential love interests for Ana: Vitra, who is essentially her head of house and whom she feels instantly physically attracted to, and Drayven, a shapeshifter who shares much more in common with Ana than it first appears. Refreshingly, neither Vitra or Drayven seem to be jealous of each other, and they, as much as Ana, have their own reservations regarding entering into a relationship. That is really the only serious part of this novel, and it's effort well-spent on Cassidy's part, since it would be easy to argue that nothing really happens in this first book despite a plethora of action sequences and inter-personal drama. 

Rating: ★★½☆☆
 

The Incandescent by Emily Tesh

Told from the POV of Saffy Walden, a highly accomplished magician who is the Director of Magic at the prestigious Chetwood School, this book was a breath of fresh air in the dark academia/magic school fantasy subgenre as it primarily focuses on the staff of Chetwood and the trials and tribulations of academic employment and life. Demons are the primary danger in this world, and Walden, one of the foremost experts, specialises in teaching upper level Invocation, which deals with the summoning of demons. The tone of this book is less what the publisher references and more similar to the first half of The Magicians and the Scholomance trilogy, except it's told from the educator's POV.

I absolutely loved the first quarter of this. The school felt like a school; the adults were appropriately wrapped up in the administrative morass of running the school as well as teaching and doing their own research; and, the teenagers, the main students featured, acted and reacted like teens would. Magic being tied to arrays and specific skills rather than the usual wands and hand gestures was pretty cool, and I really enjoyed that there was time spent in class learning about magic, safety, and ethics. The cast felt diverse and modern and reminded me a lot of actual academia, which most books in this subgenre generally don't. I really liked the dynamic and reluctant attraction between Walden and the Chief Marshal, Laura Kenning, too.

Unfortunately, the pacing and the strong ground of this book sharply tapers off after the fateful battle between Walden, Kenning, and a powerful demon called Old Faithful. A second love interest for Walden is introduced, and Kenning is effectively off-screened for the majority of the novel as Walden gets further and further wrapped up in what essentially amounts to administrative politics and getting too deep inside of her own head. I felt like Tesh got really bogged down in her own worldbuilding after a certain point and fell back on tried and true tropes to hurry the novel to its conclusion, which felt terribly rushed.

Rating: ★★½☆☆
 

Agnes Aubert's Mystical Cat Shelter by Heather Fawcett

A cosy historical romantasy set in a magical, vaguely 1920s Montréal, Agnes is on the hunt for a new home for her charity, a cat shelter, after her previous shopfront was blown up by marauding magicians. Agnes is a plucky, emotionally intelligent main character who is easy to root for as she navigates the trials and tribulations of trying to run a charity while dealing with the people around her, including her equally high-energy sister, a sticky-fingered employee, and an ever-increasing inventory of cats. Widowed following the near magical apocalypse that occurred two years prior, Agnes has her work cut out for her even before the mysterious magician Havelock appears in her life.

This book draws heavily from Howl's Moving Castle and evokes shades, positive and negative, of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Agnes and Havelock are clearly cut from the same cloth as Sophie and Howl, and they're endearing and easy to root for as a couple even before they clock that they're attracted to each other. The magic system isn't particularly clear in this book as all magic arises from those who can enter Ravenwood, which is like another magical dimension, and Agnes isn't able to do that. The reader is essentially along for the ride that Agnes herself is experiencing, which makes everything feel low stakes and almost soothing. 

At the end of the day, this is a cosy romantasy, which isn't really my cup of tea. I think that folks who enjoy this subgenre will really like this book, probably a star or two higher than my own rating. It has danger and action but never too much of either, but Fawcett avoids straying into triteness and keeps the story grounded with the cats, variety of events, and basic worldbuilding. Agnes, Havelock, and the cats are endearing characters, who Fawcett may return to in the future if the ending is any indication, although the other human characters are ultimately forgettable. 

Rating: ★★★☆☆
 

The Manor of Dreams by Christina Li

A Chinese American gothic horror novel in which Vivian Yin, the first Chinese actress to win an Oscar, dies and her children are shocked to learn she has willed her Southern California estate to another family altogether. The two families dig in their heels in the manor, which becomes increasingly hostile over the course of a week. Meanwhile, the intricate ties between the two families are uncovered along with long buried secrets, including murders and wicked ambitions spanning two centuries. Drawing heavily from The Dream of the Red Chamber and We Have Always Lived in the Castle, this is a literary family drama told from far too many POVs with substantial but sometimes confusing horror elements. 

This book shines in Vivian's POV chapters, which are much more grounded and constructed like a third-person memoir. A composite of multiple Chinese actresses in history, her ill-fated love story with her actor-producer husband, a descendant of a railroad robber baron, serves as the rising action to the series of unfortunate events that befall her family. Arguably, this novel is about compounded generational trauma with the children of immigrants suffering the sins of their parents rooted in the evils that underpin the American dream. 

That said, Li tries to do too much. The 2024 portions with their many POVs gets confusing as they shift so quickly, and I imagine it's more confusing for readers who aren't familiar with the intricate naming conventions in Chinese languages, let alone Chinese cultural norms and class issues. There's too much going on in the manor and its gardens, and there's very little time for the reader to digest information before something new is thrown at them. I didn't feel like I really believed anything that was happening after a while, and the climax was over the top and more fanciful than scary. I finished reading unsure how I felt about the book because I felt like it was two separate versions of the same story haphazardly stitched together. 

Rating: ★★½☆☆
 

Anji Kills a King by Evan Leikam

Anji, a palace laundress, kills a much hated king on a chance and attempts to flee, setting into play a series of events as legendary mercenaries, most notably a woman called the Hawk, attempt to claim the massive bounty on her head. Anji herself is full of fight and very little sense, and she desperately wants to survive, which puts her at odds with her own ideals and innate kindness. The heart of the story lies in Anji's past and how it entwines with the Hawk herself, slowly revealed over the course of the fast-paced, action-filled journey filled with monsters of the human and inhumane. 

This reads like a single-player DnD campaign and told from a tight limited third person POV. Despite the brisk pacing, the first half has long moments that drag as Anji and the Hawk move from one location to the next with often very little explanation. Keeping the interactions so securely locked with two characters for such a substantial amount of the novel either allows the reader to become attached to them or fosters annoyance and boredom, and Leikam manages to do both. Hawk's absolute commitment to not communicating even essential information and Anji's stubborn ability to say and do the wrong thing at the wrong time is extremely frustrating after a while.

The second half is much better than the first as we're finally introduced to more characters that aren't off-screened in a couple chapters, and we get to learn more about the world and the tyrannical religious system. I came to really enjoyed how this is very much a story about women living and dying in their own ways, and equally women making their own mistakes on all levels: drug use, murder, questionably romantic partners, etc. The climax of this book is well worthwhile, although the journey to get there is a real trek, and it does set up well for the next book. Overall, this is a solid debut and fits well into the grimdark subgenre, although I'm not sure exactly how the next book will shape up. 

Rating: ★★★☆☆
 

The Starlight Heir by Amalie Howard

Every now and again I read a book that makes me question whether or not I have common sense. I was vaguely interested in the set up of this: Suraya Saab is a blacksmith with hidden magical talent who also works in her family's tavern, and she receives a surprise invitation to compete alongside other selected young women for the hand of the crown prince. Suraya has always dreamed of seeing the palace and accepts the invitation because, of course, she lives in an absolute and tyrannical monarchy where her refusal would be much worse than her acceptance. Once in the capital, she meets Roshan, who is quickly revealed to be the bastard son of the king and his former wife, and everything quickly goes off the rails. 

I'm not sure if Howard knew what she wanted to do with this book. I ended up being reminded of Callie Hart's Quicksilver because of the desert setting, main character who is a skilled blacksmith and OP AF, mystical portal travel, and fantastic racism tied to misunderstanding magical powers, and finding Starlight Heir greatly lacking. The narrative is all over the place with characters throwing away personality traits as needed, and the magic system making very little sense as new facets are added nearly every other page. Suraya either has absolutely no control over her powers, or she's a miracle worker, and she appreciates very little of anything that happens to her until people get hurt. The whole book is action first, empathy later. 

At the end of the day, this felt like a haphazard foray of an established romance author into fantasy but without the restraint or raw passion as some others who have made the jump. It's not nearly as erroneous as Deveraux's attempt because it had it moments where it was fun, and, while I wasn't moved by anything, I did like Roshan and Suraya together, so long as they weren't bantering, which got excruciatingly old after a while. I have to conclude that, while I was the audience of some of the tropes in this book, I wasn't the audience for its vision and execution. 

Rating: ★☆☆☆☆
  

Books I Didn't Finish

The Silent Companions by Laura Purcell

This started out so well: Elsie, a recently widowed Victorian woman, moves with her spinster sister-in-law to an English countryside manor her late husband was in the process of restoring ahead of the birth of their first child. Meanwhile, we have flash forwards to about a year later of Elsie, recovering in a sanatorium and badly burned from a fire that destroyed the manor and killed four people. Unfortunately, this book is decidedly slow moving with too many parts at play: the creepy dolls that are the silent companions; an heirloom diamond necklace; an evil, changeable manor; etc. I got over halfway through and realised I wasn't interested in learning the mysteries nor Elsie's ultimate fate.
 

Order of Swans by Jude Deveraux

I think this is the case of Deveraux, a seasoned romance author, seeing a bunch of recent trends in romance and romantasy and saying, "I can do that," without understanding where certain sci-fi and fantasy tropes come from and how they function. There is far too much going on—aliens, secret identities, dragons, Swan Lake elements, etc—and the characters talk literally everything that is happening through except for what needs to stay secret for the book to have a semblance of a plot. It's unbelievable and honestly laughable.
 

Women's Hotel by Daniel M. Lavery

I really liked the concept of this novel, following the lives of single women in 1960s New York City living in a turn of the last century boarding house. This is unrepentant slice of life, though, and it gets dull quickly with most of the characters coming across as self-absorbed and the narrative style needlessly dense. I'm not sure who the audience of this book is aside from intensely navel-gazing New Yorker readers.