Science Fiction & Fantasy Archives | Page 34 of 66 | BookPage

by Ralph Harris

Exploring mental illness via ’80s cyberpunk-action vignettes is no easy task, but Ferrett Steinmetz’s Automatic Reload accomplishes it with panache. Set in the near future, Automatic Reload takes readers to a world where automation has just begun its ascent to supremacy. Our narrator, Mat, is an ex-military drone operator turned cybernetic mercenary, or bodyhacker. He receives a mysterious, possibly super profitable contract, rife with unknown danger and enemies. He meets our other protagonist, Sylvia, soon after beginning the mission, and the two become fast friends, lovers and fugitives from nearly everyone they know.

The exposition runs through a couple of weeks, but the primary story happens over a mere 24 hours. In this short time, our protagonists move from ambush to obstacle to blockade run, shooting, punching and panicking through each scene. Mental illness is a central theme of the book, as both of our primary protagonists have experience with similar conditions: Mat has PTSD, and Silvia has a panic disorder. The depiction feels natural and well thought out, and it helps separate our main characters from your typical immortal, unbothered action heroes. Rather than violently obliterating everything in their way, Mat and Sylvia meticulously sort through every plan to ensure no civilians or innocent bystanders are hurt. They both have mental illnesses, and they’re both quite capable warriors, and one does not invalidate the other. I appreciated that Automatic Reload does not try to “cure” Mat or Sylvia. Instead, the narrative leans into their coping methods and allows the characters to work through their pain and trauma.

Since most of the plot happens over the course of one day, Steinmetz’s lack of chapter breaks creates a chaotic, stressful pace for readers. You’ll want to read this book in 100-page segments, pausing only when you reach one of Steinmetz’s act breaks. I enjoyed the structure of the book and Steinmetz’s frenetic writing style, but this is certainly not a book for light reading in 10- to 15-minute chunks, and readers looking for a calm read on a cool afternoon will not find a solution to their needs.

Automatic Reload is perfect for anyone looking for a lighter take on cyberpunk stories. The tech of Steinmetz’s future world walks the border of psuedoscience just enough to entertain without preventing immersion in what seems like a very realistic future. There are no surprising betrayals or stunning revelations, simply good people trying to do good things. Explosive and page-turning prose, ridiculous scenarios and an empowering perspective on mental illness make Automatic Reload a fun and engaging read.

Fantasy, Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fiction Fantasy

Piranesi

Review by Kathryn Justice Leache

by Kathryn Justice Leache

“It is my belief,” writes Piranesi, the protagonist of Susanna Clarke’s new novel of the same name, “that the World (or, if you will, the House, since the two are for practical purposes identical) wishes an Inhabitant for Itself to be a witness to its Beauty and the recipient of its Mercies.” Clarke’s first novel since 2004’s wildly successful and critically acclaimed Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, Piranesi centers on a strange, haunting world and features a main character whose earnest goodwill is piercingly endearing.

The House, composed of hundreds of huge rooms filled with statues and wild birds and containing an ocean’s four tides, is so vast it may as well be infinite. Piranesi spends his days fishing, drying seaweed to burn for warmth, tracking the tides and cataloging the features of each room of the House in his journals. Twice a week, he meets with the Other, the only living person Piranesi has ever known. The Other is obsessed with finding and “freeing the Great and Secret Knowledge from whatever holds it captive in the World and to transfer it to ourselves,” and the guileless and devoted Piranesi has been his cheerful collaborator.

But just as Piranesi begins to lose faith in the Knowledge, a discovery leads him to question his own past. From this point, the novel is almost impossible to put down. The reader reflexively mirrors Piranesi in his quest to interpret the clues revealed to him by his beloved World. Stripping this mystery back layer by layer is a magical way to spend an afternoon, reading narrative motifs like runes and studying Piranesi’s journals as if they are the religious texts they resemble.

Piranesi hits many of the same pleasure points as Jonathan Strange—Clarke’s dazzling feats of world building, for one. But at one-third as many pages, Piranesi is more allegorical than epic in scope. With their neoclassical verve, certain passages recall ancient philosophy, but readers may also see connections between Piranesi’s account and the unique isolation of a confined life—whether as a result of a mandatory lockdown during a global pandemic, or perhaps due to the limitations caused by a chronic illness, such as Clarke’s own chronic fatigue syndrome.

Lavishly descriptive, charming, heartbreaking and imbued with a magic that will be familiar to Clarke’s devoted readers, Piranesi will satisfy lovers of Jonathan Strange and win her many new fans.

Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Science Fiction

The Worst of All Possible Worlds

Review by Chris Pickens

by Chris Pickens

A ship’s crew is like a family. They fight together, succeed together, love together and, if things go wrong, die together. As with previous installments of Alex White’s Salvagers trilogy, the crew of the starship Capricious does a little bit of all of these. The stakes have never been higher than in this last entry, The Worst of All Possible Worlds. But one of the best parts about reading books in a series is that by the end, you feel like part of the family, too.

Having just delivered one of the galaxy’s worst war criminals to an execution chamber, Nilah, Boots and the rest of the crew should be feeling like they’re on cloud nine. But the threat of Henrick Witts and his impossibly powerful space station hangs heavily over all sectors of space. After witnessing Witt’s destructive power firsthand, they find themselves in a race against time: uncover the mysteries of a long-lost colony ship and an ancient form of magic that might be the only hope to save everyone and everything.

With all of the space battles, massive creatures, AI-controlled mech suits and military techno-jargon, it’s a wonder there’s even time for White’s characters to breathe. But Worlds is a high-water mark for emotional precision in the space opera subgenre. White injects so much heart into their characters, and the toll the mission takes on them feels immediate and challenging. We’re far beyond the getting-to-know-you phase, and White takes full advantage.

That said, this book contains a flood of incredible moments. It’s hard to go 20 pages without finding a brilliant action set piece, and the driving pace is such that you never have a chance to guess what’s going to happen next. This gleeful intensity was a hallmark of the previous books, and it’s certainly alive and well in the finale. Balancing the action is White’s ever-present humor. A particular highlight is an AI hilariously named “The Devil” that drives a newly acquired war machine—just another tool in the arsenal for a crew that needs all the help it can get.

The crew’s goal—to find out more about Origin, the original human home world and the source of all magic in the galaxy—feels perfectly suited for the conclusion of the series. There’s poetic strength in finding where things began in order to get to the end, and it feels like the only treasure worthy of our treasure-hungry crew. As in the other books, there are nods to classic sci-fi and adventure, from James VanderMeer’s Annihilation to Isaac Asimov’s work to Indiana Jones. But it never feels like fan service. White’s creation is fully their own.

To really get the full experience, I recommend starting with the first book in the series, A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe. You’ll more fully appreciate the journey that these miscreants took to get here. But consider yourself lucky if you do have to start from page one; you’ll be on your way to experiencing one of the best sci-fi trilogies released in the last several years.

Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fantasy

The Sin in the Steel

Review by Noah Fram

by Noah Fram

Sambuciña Ahurra, aka Buc, has few possessions: several knives, which she keeps hidden about her person; the dexterity of a 16-year-old former street urchin, sneak thief and pickpocket; an insatiable and compulsive appetite for books; and a mind so sharp she must dull it with depressant drugs to communicate with other people. Her partner, Eldritch Nelson Rawlings—he goes by Eld, understandably—rescued her from the streets and taught her to read two years ago, and has been following where she leads ever since. In all that time, Buc has never made a mistake. That is, until a miscalculation leads to their arrest by Imperial officers. Within a day, the pair of them have been blackmailed into sailing across an ocean to investigate disappearing sugar shipments, launching them into a hurricane of secretive sorcerers, mythical pirates, gods both dead and living, wild hogs and something called Archaeology, whatever that means.

For all its trappings of detective work and mystery, Ryan Van Loan’s The Sin in the Steel is more Locke Lamora (on the high seas) than Sherlock Holmes. Its frantic pace and continuous action capture the reader, but behind its frenzy lurks a truly fascinating world. The economy of Servenza, the archipelagic empire Buc and Eld call home, with its reliance on sugar, tea and the psychoactive herb kan recalls the colonial European powers of the 18th century. Magic is rare but hardly secret; it is very literally a gift from the gods, and its nature varies with the divine source. The resulting limitations, and the grisly details of its use, allow it to easily coexist with a fascinating mix of flintlock-era gunpowder and borderline-futuristic transportation.

But while such a backdrop is necessary to support the story, the plot might founder were it not for its ceaseless motion and the way the mysteries pile up faster than they can be answered. As a stand-alone story, The Sin in the Steel asks the reader to fill in a great many gaps, especially since it leaves almost every thread outside Buc and Eld’s search for the missing sugar itself untied. In some ways, it’s a novel that requires its readers to moonlight as writers. The frustration of questions left unanswered is, in truth, a playground for the creative, inquisitive reader. Van Loan asks his audience to channel their inner Sambuciña, and richly rewards those who follow through.

The Sin in the Steel is not for those who want to be presented with a prepackaged world; some assembly is required. But that assembly is part of the joy of books like this. The leftover mysteries are carefully crafted to capture the imagination, and the hectic unravelling of schemes and unearthing of secrets are well worth the effort needed to keep pace.

Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fantasy

The Year of the Witching

Review by Laura Hubbard

by Laura Hubbard

Witchcraft has lost some of its bite in the last hundred years. From nose-twitching Samantha to teenage wizards roving the halls of Hogwarts, witchcraft has moved from a dark threat to a childish fantasy. Alexis Henderson’s debut novel, The Year of the Witching, abandons this trend, plunging readers headlong back into a world where magic is a thing to be dreaded and feared.

Despite its dark promise, The Year of the Witching opens with scenes of relative innocence. Immanuelle Moore has always been relegated to the outskirts of Bethel society due to her family’s checkered history and biracial heritage, but she is, all things considered, relatively happy. Even if her very birth was an affront to the Prophet and cast her family into disgrace, she is able to go on Sabbath picnics with her best friend and tend her flock of sheep in the relative safety of Bethel’s fields. But a darker side to Bethel lurks beneath the surface. When Immanuelle stumbles into the Darkwood while chasing a rogue ram, a pair of witches give her a piece of contraband that will change her life forever: her dead mother’s journal. Although its very existence puts Immanuelle’s life and freedom in jeopardy, she is loathe to give up the only connection she has to a woman and a history she never knew. But as she digs deeper into the journal’s pages, Immanuelle discovers a secret about herself that threatens to lead her to ruin—and Bethel towards a reckoning.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Alexis Henderson on growing up in one of America’s most haunted cities.

Alexis Henderson’s novel is heavy, and not because of its page count. The Year of the Witching explores issues of identity, patriarchy and life under a totalitarian theocracy, all of which would be terrifying in their own right. But Henderson introduces us to this world, equal parts The Handmaid’s Tale and 1690s Salem, gently. She allows readers to slowly see for themselves the cracks in Bethel’s pious facade before bringing down the full weight of its horror. That horror necessitates a warning to the faint of heart: This is not the book for you if you even border on squeamish. The Year of the Witching revels in a sort of rich macabre tone, describing scenes of blood and horror so vividly that you can almost smell the putrid flesh of the witches of the Darkwood and feel the harsh stone of the Prophet’s altar. For the wrong reader, The Year of the Witching will fail to do anything but nauseate. But for the right reader—a reader who loves historical fiction and the cold feeling of text-induced terror—this book is a perfect read, certain to terrify, disturb and intrigue from beginning to end.

Fantasy, Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fiction Fantasy

Flyaway

Review by Chika Gujarathi

by Chika Gujarathi

Perhaps the first thing you might do after picking up Kathleen Jennings’ fantasy novella is pull out the map and look for Inglewell somewhere between the Coral Sea and the Indian Ocean. Does it exist? Is it real?

In this former mining town, full of withering things, there is a house with the prettiest front garden on Upper Spicer Street. There, 19-year-old Bettina Scott lives with her sickly mother, Nerida, who over the years has quieted Bettina’s curiosities about the mysterious disappearance of her father and her two older brothers.

But when an unexpected note makes an appearance in the mailbox, Bettina finds it hard to resist the urge to seek the truth about her family. She reluctantly turns to Gary Damson and Trish Aberdeen, two formerly inseparable best friends who’ve had a bad falling out. But much like everything else in this old town, they, too, are strangely connected to the riddle Bettina is trying to solve. Together, they embark in Gary’s old beaten truck to chase tales of cursed creatures, bewitched vines and desert monsters, all of which seem as much part of their past as Inglewell’s.

Jennings grew up on fairy tales on a cattle station in Western Queensland, Australia, and worked as a translator and lawyer before completing a master of philosophy in creative writing. Jennings is also an illustrator, and the cover design and chapter illustrations are her own. Part ghost story, part murder mystery and part fairy tale, Flyaway feels like a perfect combination of all Jennings’ experiences and imagination.

Part ghost story, part murder mystery and part fairy tale, Flyaway feels like a perfect combination of all Jennings’ experiences and imagination.

Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Science Fiction

Red Dust

Review by Ralph Harris

by Ralph Harris

Cuban science fiction author Yoss has written a simple, elegant narrative in Red Dust, a novel centered on a robot deputy of little renown. Within Yoss’ succinct 150 pages, the reader follows an eccentric robot obsessed with noir fiction named Raymond after Raymond Chandler. Yoss goes beyond a reliance on overused storytelling methods to craft an entire story from overwrought science fiction tropes slamming into detective noir cliches. The premise—an alien confederation wrapped in power politics holds down the advancement of the human race, and one robot police officer must track down an alien criminal with the help of a convicted thief—should make for a predictable story at best. However, Yoss’ choice of narrator and ability to converse with the reader make Red Dust a breezy, fun read perfect for summer afternoons.

With its copious amounts of cliche, a reader could easily lose interest or find themselves unattached to characters in Red Dust. Raymond, however, keeps the reader engaged, sarcastically pointing out obvious literary references as they happen. The first-person narrative shatters the fourth wall with constant, direct allusions to the story’s noir influences. The resultant quirky lightheartedness creates the feeling of watching a cheesy movie with a good friend, joking about each plot hole and contradiction. As a result, the plot holes don’t matter, and the contradictions are fun instead of frustrating.

Our spunky robot gets assigned the incredibly difficult task of tracking down a supernatural killer called a Gaussical, a being capable of manipulating probability to make any number of insane things happen. This ability translates into the space equivalent of magic, and to catch a wizard, Raymond needs a wizard. Enter El Afortunado, an imprisoned thief and smuggler who happens to be the only known human Gaussical, and is out for revenge. While not particularly complicated, the plot takes the reader on a lovely jaunt through a troubled Sol system, chasing bad guys, ejecting power crystals and eventually, finding a happy ending.

If you are looking for either hard science fiction or gritty noir mystery, Red Dust is not for you. If you want to peruse those worlds through a rosy tint and listen to the narration of a sardonic positronic companion, then this book will happily fill a short few hours of your time.

Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Science Fiction

Unconquerable Sun

Review by Stephanie Cohen-Perez

by Stephanie Cohen-Perez

Kate Elliott’s Unconquerable Sun is a space opera of genre-defying dimensions. Elliott’s largely inactive blog bears the title I Make Up Worlds, a phrase that feels like an understatement when considering the breadth of detail, character development and story-building expertise Elliott displays in this epic tale inspired by the life of Alexander the Great.

The story follows three main characters whose lives eventually dovetail: Princess Sun Shān, heir to the Republic of Chaonia; Persephone “Perse” Lee, a former cadet who fled to the military to escape the conniving, poisonous noble House of Lee; and Apama At Sabao, four-armed lancer and lieutenant who discovers more than she bargained for about her heritage as she embarks upon life-threatening missions and rushes into galactic battles. In addition to seamlessly weaving together these very different voices, whose fascinating personal stories feel like they are only just beginning in this volume, Elliott structures the characters in intricate hierarchies and caste-like levels that reveal dangerous alliances, intertwinements and enemies as the plot unfurls.

Elliott’s stellar world building prowess is strengthened by the attention she pays to imagery inspired by the natural world, as well as ancient Greek and Asian history and culture, transposing the tales of empires, heirs, consorts and conquerors into space. Readers will grow protective and supportive of the three protagonists, but they will also relish the cultivation of relationships between the royals, like Sun, and their Companions (committed allies and at times consorts to the royals), and in turn, the Companions’ cee-cees (companions to the Companions), as these two groups revolve around Sun like, well, her planetary namesake, and help propel her through family deceit, warfare and political quicksand.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Kate Elliott on drawing from the distant past to create the future.

The Chaonian government doesn’t bat an eye at, and legally acknowledges, same-sex unions, and the book’s queer characters are interesting, genuine and developed beyond the mere fact of their sexual orientation. The government is run by ruthless and independent queen-marshals (a gender-neutral term), a position to which Sun will succeed one day unless another viable heir is quickly produced. Nevertheless, Elliott’s world is ravaged by rampant tensions and biases, with the Chaonians, Gatoi, Phenes and Yele, among other peoples and creatures, battling each other to attain control. Even in outer space, Elliott makes clear that differences worry and scare some, and inevitably lead to a power struggle over the vast spans of the galaxy.

As for Sun, the pivotal royal, she contains multitudes. She is, despite her unorthodox plans and youth, the Chaonians’—and possibly her world’s—last hope at removing the tarnished branches of the system and ensuring that the Core Houses and different peoples are able to see past bad blood and contrived hearsay. She and her newly cobbled crew ride into the jaws of danger and death, taking us along for the breathtakingly thrilling ride and leaving us craving the next installment.

Kate Elliott’s Unconquerable Sun is a space opera of genre-defying dimensions, inspired by the life of Alexander the Great.

Audio, Fiction, Humor, Memoir, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fiction Audio Memoir Humor

Audio: December 2020

Feature by Anna Zeitlin

by Anna Zeitlin

Some are short, and some are long, but the stories in these three audiobooks will sweep you away for hours.

★ The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

V. E. Schwab’s The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue is a rare, original fable that feels timeless. As a young woman in the 17th century, Addie makes a deal with the darkness, embodied by Luc, a trickster god. He grants her immortality with the caveat that everyone she ever meets will fail to remember her. Addie lives in the shadows for hundreds of years, roaming Europe and the United States, finding ways to get by and doomed to solitude, until one day, she meets a man who can remember her. This epic story, spanning three centuries and two continents, is expertly narrated by Julia Whelan. Her performance grows and changes with Addie, capturing her early French accent and her later American one, which still carries a slight French tinge. This is a transporting listen, and these characters will stick with you for a long time.

Black Bottom Saints

Co-narrated by Prentice Onayemi and Imani Parks, Alice Randall’s novel Black Bottom Saints captures the memories of Joseph “Ziggy” Johnson, a gossip columnist who founded a famed dance school in Detroit. As Ziggy recalls the men and women who touched his life from the 1930s to the ’60s, he pays tribute to these heroes and toasts each one with a custom cocktail (recipes included). From local legends to household names like Count Basie and Martin Luther King Jr., each story shines a spotlight on Black excellence. Onayemi does a beautiful job narrating the book from Ziggy’s perspective, bringing gravity and a warm nostalgia to the telling. Parks plays Ziggy’s goddaughter, who is piecing together his story, and her modern sensibility provides a welcome contrast. Both narrators hail from Broadway, and they bring notable vitality to the narration.

The Best of Me

Arguably the king of audiobooks, David Sedaris returns with his greatest hits, The Best of Me, all selected by the author from his more than 25-year career. From imagined letters to the editor to quirky stories about his large family, this collection gathers all the favorites in one place. Sedaris narrates the audiobook as only he can, his distinct voice emphasizing the odd observations that make his perspective so unique. This is a perfect point of introduction to an expansive and celebrated opus.

Some are short, and some are long, but the stories in these three audiobooks will sweep you away for hours.

Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fantasy

The Obsidian Tower

Review by Chris Pickens

by Chris Pickens

Imagine this: You’re born into a powerful magical family, part of a storied lineage of mage-rulers. Everyone around you can control life itself. Giant trees grow when they are told to grow, animals rise to defend you and every living thing in your realm is connected, sensed innately no matter where they are. Then imagine that a childhood illness leaves you different, unable to control this life magic. In fact, it leaves you with something worse: a magic that, when you touch something alive, kills it. What kind of person could overcome such loneliness? A new heroine named Ryxander, who stands at the center of Melissa Caruso’s mysterious and wonderful The Obsidian Tower.

In the kingdom of Morgrain, there is a castle. In that castle is a great black tower. And inside the tower, behind innumerable and impenetrable enchantments is a door that should never be opened. As children, the mages of Morgrain recite a poem thousands of years old, a warning that ends with the line “Nothing must unseal the door.” No one knows what is contained in the tower, and Ryxander is the Warden charged with keeping it safe. When a visiting mage ventures too close to the magic of the tower, Ryx finds herself at the center of an international crisis and the only one who knows what’s beyond the door. To avert disaster, she must use all of her wits and talent to keep Morgrain, and the world, safe from unspeakable ruin.

Even from the very first page, I was hooked for one reason: the initial premise here is simple, full of tension and immediately engaging. Even as the central goal of not opening the door plays out, Caruso builds a vivid universe around it, filling the pages with personality and depth. Like a good mystery, Tower slowly feeds the reader with more and more clues, never fully revealing everything at once. Caruso builds and releases tension deftly on both large and small scales. Even short conversations Ryx has with scheming foreign nobles expand and contract as political and personal issues are explored.

Ryx, of course, serves as the host for these explorations. This book has moments of real pain and longing that have nothing to do with magic or towers. Not being able to have physical contact with anyone has changed her, and the choices she has to make to subvert or embrace this fact are beautiful and terrible. It is, therefore, instantly believable that she is made of stronger stuff, making her eventual confrontations with some very nasty magic all the more satisfying.

At the time of this writing, I’m restricted to my house as a global sickness isolates nearly everyone from each other. I can’t help but think that, on a smaller scale, Ryx’s isolation is something many readers can imagine first hand.

Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Science Fiction

Network Effect

Review by Laura Hubbard

by Laura Hubbard

Life isn’t easy in the great, wide universe. Especially if you’re a SecUnit who’s hacked your governor module in order to watch thousands of hours of human media feeds. Or if you’re responsible for the health and safety of a crew of humans who seem just so incredibly bent on getting themselves killed, either on standard survey missions or in attempted hostile incursions from the Corporation Rim. Despite the downsides of caring for humans (most notably, caring for them interferes with television time), Murderbot is content with its position within Preservation Station and with the life and associates it has collected over the years. But when an old acquaintance kidnaps Murderbot’s crew and demands its help as ransom, Murderbot is forced away from the media feed to save the day (again) and get its humans back safe and sound.

Network Effect is the first novel-length work in Martha Wells’ Murderbot Diaries saga and the fifth entry in the series overall. Like Wells’ previous novellas starring Murderbot, Network Effect is a masterclass in tone. Murderbot’s sarcastic, adolescent humor suffuses the book, giving readers the distinct feeling of reading real-time logs directly off Murderbot’s strange, twisted core processor. The result is, at times, laugh-out-loud insights into human behavior. At others, it’s the feeling of intruding on someone as they try to understand exactly how to relate to their fellow sentient beings—and often fail. Despite its name, Murderbot is the most awkwardly human character to come out of science fiction in a long time.

Of course, Network Effect is far from a book on philosophy. If it is, it’s a book on philosophy wrapped in the perfect space opera, full of mysterious alien remnants, thrilling firefights inside of sentient space ships and political and corporate intrigue. Wells’ fight scenes are kinetic and tactical, juxtaposing visceral descriptions of Murderbot’s organic parts sloughing off with occasionally balletic fight sequences between Murderbot, its drones and whatever targets it happens to be facing off against. The result is not for the overly squeamish, but it is also gory within reason. After all, Network Effect is a book based in humor as much as it is in action.

New readers to the Murderbot Diaries universe need not fear; although it is well worth your time to go back and binge-read the first four novellas in the series, Network Effect delivers on its promise as a stand-alone story (one that, somehow, miraculously, only contains a few spoilers for the rest of the series). Although not every relationship is explained to its fullest, the book contains everything readers need to know about Murderbot and its team. And for longtime students of the many (mostly sarcastic or mildly annoyed) moods of Murderbot, this will be a satisfying return to some fan-favorite characters. No matter your background with sentient murder robots, Network Effect is the perfect fare for any seeking the perfect weekend binge read or escapist vacation.

Life isn’t easy in the great, wide universe. Especially if you’re a SecUnit who’s hacked your governor module in order to watch thousands of hours of human media feeds.

Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Fantasy

Race the Sands

Review by Laura Hubbard

by Laura Hubbard

Sarah Beth Durst’s latest novel is a direct spiritual successor to the work of Tamora Pierce, whose novels gave many readers their first experience with fantasy and adventure and planted the seed that—if you were determined enough—you could do anything.

Race the Sands introduces us to the arid land of Becar, a land which is ruled by questions of the soul. Reincarnation is real and religious priests, known as augurs, can see your future incarnation by examining your aura. The lucky and kind are reborn as humans, herons and other noble creatures; the less lucky return as lower animals. But for the truly monstrous, only one fate awaits: eternal life as a deadly monster known as a kehok. Redemption is only possible for kehoks fierce and fast enough to win the Races.

But for Tamra and Raia, winning the Races has nothing to do with spiritual redemption. It is kehok trainer Tamra’s only chance to prevent financial ruin and to prevent the augurs from taking her daughter away. And Raia, a runaway desperate to escape an arranged marriage to a known abuser, has a chance to buy her own freedom should she win the Races as a rider. Even if that means taking a chance on a strange kehok that could just as easily kill its rider as win.

Race the Sands gives us some expected archetypes: the grizzled, injured veteran, the emperor-to-be who is not quite ready for the job, the plucky young heroine who must overcome the odds and win the day. What it also gives us, however, is a story that takes these worn tropes and turns them into something unique. Our grizzled veteran is also a caring mother, and our plucky heroine sometimes shrinks in the face of danger. Durst’s prose gives readers a window into the inner lives of her characters and the difficult decisions they must make, turning what could be worn tropes into lively, well-developed characters.

It would be easy for a story set in a world where many are obsessed with the purity of their souls to veer towards facile interpretations of morality and human behavior. But like all great world builders, Durst thinks through how people would interact with her world carefully and does not create characters who are pure saints or who are irredeemable. While Tamra, Raia and their associates do occasionally worry about the state of their own souls, they are still people. They tell white lies about jam being good when it actually isn’t and worry about their families. Some are downright foul, for even the threat of a monstrous afterlife can’t always change human nature.

For readers who long for one more story of Tortall or the Winding Circle, consider Race the Sands as a new, grown-up alternative. Durst’s latest novel, full of daring races and twisting halls of intrigue, will surprise and delight even as it feels comforting and familiar.

For readers who long for one more story of Tortall or the Winding Circle in this time of uncertainty, consider Race the Sands as a new, grown-up alternative.

Fantasy, Historical Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy

Science Fiction & Fantasy Historical Fantasy Fantasy

The Age of Witches

Review by Stephanie Cohen-Perez

by Stephanie Cohen-Perez

An Austen-esque romance, a heart-racing mystery full of dangerous twists and an anxiety-inducing yet enthralling family feud, Louisa Morgan’s The Age of Witches is anything but a traditional tale of good versus evil. This historical fantasy follows three strong-willed, Gilded Age New York women who share a common ancestor Bridget Byshop, executed as a purported enchantress during the Salem Witch Trials of 1692.

Morgan thrusts readers into the lives of these very different, yet appealing, characters right away. Frances’ struggles early on in life have caused her to constantly desire more, and her loveless marriage to older, nouveau riche George Allington has staled her passion for life. Annis is Frances’ headstrong stepdaughter, whose interests include caring for her purebred horses, overseeing their progeny and evading marriage and the control of men. Harriet is Frances’ cousin and Annis’ great-aunt, a revered herbalist who lives in the shadows but who seems to have a propensity for other miracles and mysterious happenings.

This energetically paced novel bounces between the three women’s lives, building to a battle over the use of their magical gift (or curse?) called the maleficia, a powerful strain of magic that leaves a dark imprint on the wielder and can tear the soul and conscience from one’s powers. It’s clear that while Frances is willing to utilize the family talent to her advantage—no matter the cost—Harriet and the newly-inducted Annis must discover how to stop her machinations before Annis is wed off for the sake of a title and financial gain.

The Age of Witches’ eloquent, flowery prose will please fans of Victorian British classics, and her detailed descriptions and attention to detail bring the locations and historical period to vivid life. New Yorkers will certainly recognize familiar locations in the picturesque setting, and for romance fans, the chemistry between Annis and an eventual suitor is palpable and skin-tingling. The Bishops’ magic is powerful yet elegant, far from some gaudy Halloween spectacle, and requires wisdom and skill to wield.

Morgan whisks up a tale of legacy and feminist might as the Bishop women take charge of their destinies—and sometimes the destinies of others. From eerie cantrips to lifelike manikins, the magic in The Ages of Witches relies on imagination, instinct and intuition. It all makes for a perfect brew of meticulous skill and focused intention as the Bishops battle over their entangled lineage and futures.