SERIES SATURDAY: THE BITTERSWEETS CLUB

This is a blog series about … well, series. I love stories that continue across volumes, in whatever form: linked short stories, novels, novellas, television, movies, comics.

Series cover art by Inkspiral Designs

It’s a little past the season, but I thought I’d relaunch regular Series Saturday posts with a look at what has become one of my annual re-reads: a set of holiday-themed novellas, three of which take place at Christmas (and the other on April Fool’s Day).

The Little Village novellas (4 volumes)

Written by ‘Nathan Burgoine

published by Bold Stroke Books (2019 – 2022)

Titles:

·       Handmade Holidays

·       Faux Ho Ho

·       Village Fool

·       Felix Navidad

A substantial number, if not all, of ‘Nathan Burgoine’s novels and short stories interconnect, with his fictionalized version of Ottawa’s Gay Village as a shared setting. Main characters in one story will play supporting roles or make cameo appearances in others, local businesses with names like Body Positive, NiceTeas, and Bittersweets recur, incidents are mentioned in passing, lending all the stories a shared history and timeline. Part of the fun of reading any Burgoine work is figuring out how it connects to all his other work. Some are more obviously connected than others, such as those identified as “Little Village novellas” on the cover – and in particular, the quartet of romance novellas featuring a group of friends called “the Bittersweets Club.”

The Bittersweets Club are four friends who meet regularly at the titular coffee shop: graphic designer Ru, the quippiest member of the group; software designer Silas, the most socially awkward; I.T. Specialist Owen, who still bears the mental and physical scars of a bad car accident; and home health aide nurse Felix, who never met a practical joke he didn’t love and never met a man he did. Each man’s road to romance gets its own novella focused, as mentioned above, on a particular holiday,

What I love about this series as a whole is how sweet and straightforward each book is. These are books about gay men finding love, yes, but also about friends nurturing each other and the strength of “found family.” They have just the right amount of “will they get together or won’t they” angst, are playful with the tropes of the romance genre, and all have HEA (Happily Ever After) or at least HFN (Happy For Now) endings. Which is not to say the stories are completely light or frivolous. Burgoine’s romances are always grounded in our very real current culture, where queer people still have to check their surroundings before holding hands or kissing in public, where birth families still disown gay children, where transphobia is very real even within the LGBTQ+ community. I always appreciate Burgoine’s refusal to paint his stories into some rosy world where homophobia is a thing of the past. Because it isn’t.

Though they share characters and a timeline, each of the four novellas stands alone and thus can be read in any order. References are made to events in the other books, but always in a way that does not make the reader feel like they’re missing vital information for the story at hand and I think in a way that intrigues the reader enough to seek out the other books regardless of which one you start with.

That said, I’ll discuss the books in publication order since that’s the order in which I read them.

Handmade Holidays

Handmade Holidays is Ru’s story, even though he is not the focal character. That would be bookstore manager and budding author Nick. Disowned at nineteen but his family for the “sin” of being gay, Nick begins to build his own traditions with a found family that includes his best friend Ru. The only novella in the series told in strict chronological order, each chapter covers an important Christmas in Nick’s life, and therefore Ru’s, as the friends navigate unsuccessful relationships, changes in employment, parental illnesses, and the growth of their found family. This is also the novella with the longest timespan, stretching over 15 years of Nick and Ru’s lives. I love the pacing of this book. Burgoine packs so many major life events in and manages to make it feel neither rushed nor lacking in detail. It’s also a wonderful take on the “friends to lovers” trope, as Nick and Ru bounce off of each other and second-guess their feelings, the timing never feeling quite right – until one of them takes a risk. It all feels totally authentic. And as with all the Little Village romances, both leads are men I’d like to know in real life.

Faux Ho Ho

But lifelong friends finally admitting they’re in love with each other can have repercussions on their friend group. When Nick and Ru move in together, Ru’s roommate Silas is left in search of someone to share the rent with. The apartment is perfectly placed above Bittersweets, but Silas’ pay as a freelance IT consultant and software designer won’t cover the rent and he knows that asking his conservative and politically powerful parents (who tolerate Silas for the optics more than anything) for help will come with strings attached. Silas is skeptical when Ru suggests he consider personal trainer Dino as a new roommate. Big, burly bodybuilders do not really fit in the Silas Waite Venn Diagram of Life. But as they get to know each other, Dino causes Silas to readjust his outlook. Told in Burgoine’s signature style – that is, chapters that alternate between the present and the past to heighten the story’s tension (juxtaposing “what will happen next” with “how did the characters get to this point”), Faux Ho Ho plays with both the “opposites attract” and “fake relationship” tropes. To get Silas out of spending Thanksgiving with his very conservative family, Dino pretends to be Silas’ boyfriend … which inspires Silas’ sister to finally marry her boyfriend because now Silas can attend with a date, which she knows will piss off their parents and siblings. I love how Silas and Dino bring out the best in each other. I love the contrast between Dino’s family, who all instantly love Silas and go along with the “fake relationship” hoping it will turn real, and Silas’ family, who (other than his wonderfully supportive sister and her fiancée) are only okay with Silas being gay as long as he stays quiet and single. And I love the themes of found family what it really means to be an ally to the LGBTQIA+ community that Burgoine continues to thread through these books.

Village Fool

Village Fool is the only “Bittersweets Club” novella which does not take place on or around the Christmas holidays. While this is Owen’s story from start to finish, the main action is incited by Felix’s impulsiveness. He plays an April Fool’s joke on Owen, switching Owen’s phone contacts so when Owen thinks he’s texting Felix, he’s really texting his unrequited crush Toma. The fact that Toma is Owen’s physiotherapist complicates matters even more. Like Faux Ho Ho, the chapters in Village Fool alternate between the present, where we see the set-up of the practical joke, how it plays out, and the immediate aftermath, and the past, where we see how the Bittersweets Club formed, how Owen met Toma and how their mutual crushes (this is not really a spoiler) developed. One of the things I love about this book is the way Burgoine presents Owen’s anxiety and insecurity as compared to Silas’s in Faux Ho Ho; the author is very conscious of the fact that no two people’s anxiety, insecurity, or depression operate the same way and makes sure that Own and Silas are not cookie-cutter stereotypes. They have certain commonalities (just as Ru and Felix, the group extroverts, do) but their coping mechanisms, as well as their formative backgrounds, are quite different.

Felix Navidad

The final “Bittersweets Club” novella is all about Felix, but it also ties the series’ subplots together in a nice little bow. Ru and Nick are finally getting married, after Covid forced them to delay. Owen and Toma and Silas and Dino are of course going together, but Felix is going solo. He’s had a rough year but is also still feeling the sting of how his impulsive April Fool’s gag affected Owen, even though everything turned out okay. The story alternates between the present holiday, (where Felix and another wedding guest, Ru’s ex Kevin, end up stuck in a cabin that only has one bed, thanks to a massive blizzard), and the past year (with Ru getting to know a new patient, retiree Danya, who has a thing or two to say about Felix’s lack of a social or romantic life). In the “present holiday” chapters, Burgoine moves from one classic trope (the “blind date misunderstanding”) to another (forced proximity/one bed) so smoothly you almost don’t realize it’s happening … and manages to tweak both in very satisfactory ways. The flashback chapters focus on Felix’s growing friendship with sickly but still effervescent Danya, and they are an amazing look at how intergenerational friendships in the gay community should (but all too often don’t) work. Burgoine often comments on how hard it is for younger queer folk to learn our community’s history, because so many of those who should be our elders were taken away from us by the AIDS epidemic. But here, he reminds us that some of that history is still living, still vital – if only younger folks are willing to pay attention, learn, and develop actual connection with our elders. Danya’s illness (NOT AIDS, I feel like I must stress) is a major part of the flashback chapters but please don’t think this means the book is depressing. It is not. It’s as sweet and cute and romantic as the other books in the series – but it also doesn’t shy away from the reality that often joy and sorrow walk beside each other.

While books focused on the “Bittersweets Club” may be done for now, Burgoine isn’t done with gay romances set at the holidays in the Little Village. He recently teased plans for a series featuring a new group of Little Village residents taking place on holidays other than Christmas, and I don’t need to tell you I’m here for them all. He’s also got plans for non-holiday romances building out some of the characters and locations we’ve met along with the Bittersweets guys. In fact, A Little Village Blend is already out in the world.

So: what are your favorite holiday-set LGBTQIA+ romances? Let me know in the comments!

2024 Reading and Viewing Challenges

New Year, New Challenges!

Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment. I always set myself more than one reading challenge per year. Some carry over from year to year, and some are new. Some are broad and some are themed. And in many cases, books read will help me meet more than one challenge. But still: in the past few years, I set myself perhaps too many challenges that were difficult to overlap. So this year, I’ve cut a couple that I’ve totally blown in the past few years, and decreased the number of books for others.

Of course, I’m also making some formal movie, television, and live theatre viewing challenges this year because why the heck not? (Although at least one of them is simply formalizing a goal I have every year: more live theatre!)

 So, in order from “most expansive” to “least expansive,” here are my 2024 Challenges. I’ll start with the reading, then move on to the viewing.

TO BE READ CHALLENGE

The idea (formulated by RoofBeamReader at his blog several years ago) is to pick 12 books (plus 2 alternates in case you find yourself unable to finish a couple of your main choices) that have sat unread on your bookshelf for a year or more. Books published in 2023 wouldn’t be eligible, nor would re-reads. This year, I’ve decided to include audiobooks and e-books in the challenge (in the past it’s been mostly, if not all, print books), and so I’m listing three alternates (one for each format) instead of two. I did not do well on this challenge in the past three years, but here’s hoping 2024 will break that streak. Titles are not listed in any intended reading order. Books title followed by an asterisk are books that were on my 2023 list, but which went unread. Here’s the list:

1.       Ice Land, by Betsy Tobin (2008) *

2.       Let Me In, by John Ajvide Lindqvist (2004) *

3.       The Mystery of the Sea, by Bram Stoker (1902, reissued in 1997) *

4.       The Book of Lost Saints, by Daniel José Older (2019) *

5.       Dune, by Frank Herbert (1965/2014) *

6.       Gideon the Ninth, by Tamsyn Muir (2019) *

7.       The Mythology of Salt and Other Stories, by Octavia Cade (2020) *

8.       Cemetery Boys, by Aiden Thomas (2020) *

9.       Pangs, by Jerry L. Wheeler (2021) * (2023 alternate title, moved to main list)

10.   Becoming by Michelle Obama (2018)

11.   Never Have Your Dog Stuffed by Alan Alda (2005)

12.   The Unwanted by Jeffrey Ricker (2014)

ALTERNATES:

1.       All About Me!: My Remarkable Life in Show Business, by Mel Brooks (2021) (audio alternate)

2.       Golden Boy: A Novel, by Abigail Tarttelin (2013) (e-book alternate)

3.       Merlin’s Booke by Jane Yolen (1986) (print book alternate)

I plan to come back to this post and add “date completed” for each book, and a link to a review if I post one.

366 SHORT STORIES CHALLENGE

Every year, I challenge myself to read one short story per day. Some years I keep the pace pretty well, and some years I fall behind and then scramble to catch up (and some years, I catch up and fall behind again, and some years I blow past the goal handily). 2024 is a Leap Year, so the goal is 366 short stories. I used to post thoughts on each individual story over on my now-defunct LiveJournal. This year I plan to revive my “Sunday Shorts” feature and review a story or two in-depth each Sunday. I’m defining “short story” as anything from flash fiction to novella-length.

GOODREADS CHALLENGE

Goodreads allows members to set a challenge. In previous years, I’ve set goals ranging from 125 to 150 books. For 2024, I’m setting a goal of 120 to start with (10 books per month), and we’ll see what happens. Of course, any book read for the TBR Challenge, or the other challenges mentioned in this post count towards this one.

GRAPHIC NOVEL CHALLENGE

I own far more graphic novels and trade paperback collections of classic comics than I’ve read. In 2017 I started trying to turn that around, and I’m again setting a goal in 2024 of reading one graphic novel per week, so 52 for the year.

NON-FICTION CHALLENGE

As with graphic novels, I tend to get intrigued by and purchase far more non-fiction books than I end up reading. In an effort to clear some shelf-space, justify the money spent, and increase my knowledge a bit, I’m going to challenge myself to read at least 12 non-fiction books, but I’m not going to make a list. There are already 3 non-fiction books (all memoirs) on the TBR Challenge which will count towards this.

READ THE BOOK / WATCH THE MOVIE CHALLENGE

I have so many books in my collection that are the basis for classic (and sometimes not-so-classic) movies that I thought it would be fun to read some of them and then see how the movies compare. In previous years I didn’t do so well on this challenge, but I’m game to try again. I intend to write reviews/comparison posts as I’ve done previously, under the Page-to-Screen feature title and tag. I’ve never set a numeric goal for this challenge, but let’s aim for 12 “Page-to-Screen” posts this year.

MOVIE CHALLENGE

I own a lot of DVDs. (I know, you’re shocked. Shocked!) Every year I say, “This is the year I’m going to make an effort to watch them!” And then, somehow, I … don’t. One year, I did a list of 12 and two alternates as I do for the TBR Challenge, called it the TBW Challenge … and failed it miserably. So this year, I’m setting myself a challenge akin to my graphic novel challenge: one movie per week, 52 for the year. This includes movies on DVD, streaming services, and any trips to an actual movie theater (which have become rare for me).

TELEVISION CHALLENGE

Did I mention I own a lot of DVDs? And that I’m subscribed to a lot of streaming services? I did? Well, you won’t be shocked to know that it’s not all about the movies. So I’m setting myself a “TV Series Watch” challenge akin to my Short Story Challenge: an average of one full episode of a television series (regardless of length) for each day in the year, which (again) this being a Leap Year means 366 episodes.

LIVE THEATRE CHALLENGE

I did pretty well with this one in 2023, even though I never posted about it (because I posted extraordinarily little here in 2023, but that’s a subject for another post), so I’m making it official for 2024: I want to see at least 1 live theatrical performance per month. Most of them will be in New York City, but I’ll count any play, musical, opera, ballet, or staged reading I see anywhere, regardless of whether it’s fully professional productions, college, community theatre, whatever. (Music concerts, author signings, and conferences/conventions do not count towards this.)

ACCOUNTABILITY

So how am I going to hold myself accountable? I’m planning to bring back my monthly Reading RoundUps. I’m not going to rename/rebrand because I like the alliterative title (which falls well in line with Series Saturday, Sunday Shorts, and a few other blog series I’m hoping to make regular features in 2024), but those posts will also track the Viewing challenges.

I would love to hear what YOUR Reading, Writing, or Viewing Challenges are for 2024. Let me know in the comments!

Book Review: SLEEP NO MORE

TITLE: Sleep No More (October Daye #17)

AUTHOR: Seanan McGuire

369 pages, DAW Books, ISBN 9780756416836 (hardcover; also e-book and audio)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

MY THOUGHTS: Many, if not all, of us have wondered what our adult lives would be like if some important fact or event of our childhood had been different. It is not an unusual thing to daydream about even if we never discuss it with another person, but no matter how vivid our imagination we can never really know how that other life would play out. Time travel and the ability to peer into alternate Earths are not tools we currently possess. Luckily, they do exist in the worlds of fiction – along with many other ways for us to see what those other lives may have been like. One of those methods, a grand illusion that affects not just the Kingdom of Mists but the bordering kingdoms as well, was set in motion by the long-missing Titania, Queen of Faerie, at the very end of the sixteenth book in the October Daye series (Be the Serpent), and in book seventeen, Sleep No More, we get to experience the depth and breadth of that illusion. Which means we, along with our narrator Toby, get to see firsthand what Toby’s life would have been like had she been raised not just by her emotionally abusive and magically manipulative mother, but also by a father who loved her and with a doting older sister who didn’t go missing before October was born.

For long-time Toby fans, this book is a double-edged sword. It’s cool to see what a close relationship October and her sister August might have had if their lives had been a little different, or to see a Simon Torquill who never descended into evil as far as he did in the real world. It’s also painful to see how a Sylvester Torquill devoid of love and a Quentin absent Toby’s influence might have turned out. McGuire does a fantastic job of pacing out the reveals of how our series regulars are different with altered memories.

But all of that is balanced by the reader’s knowledge of the real world the characters are shielded from by Titania’s working, and the pain of watching Toby, and much of her extended family, come to realize that the real world needs to return, not because their lives were necessarily better in it but because if Titania succeeds in making her illusion world-wide and permanent things will get much, much worse.

Because make no mistake – Titania is a faerie Supremacist. She’s never liked the shapeshifters and part-animal descendant lines among the Fae, and she’s not very fond of changelings (half-human, half-fae) either. McGuire has never pulled her punches in expressing Titania’s unsavory qualities – but most of the time we’ve seen them, it’s been in novellas and short stories as opposed to on full display as the centerpiece of a novel. And of course, not everyone thinks Titania’s vision for Faerie is bad, which adds levels of complication for Toby and the few allies she has.

There are those who might question why, seventeen books into a series, we would need an entire book where our lead character is not herself. Could this have been done earlier or maybe not at all? I don’t think it could have been done earlier – Toby and her found family needed to be in a certain formation and at a certain point in their interpersonal development in order for this story to work. And so did the readers. Any earlier and the impact of a complacent Toby who accepts her place, who doesn’t recognize most of her loved ones would not be as effective. And I do believe this story needed to be told – while I have no insider information, I think the things Toby and her gang have learned about themselves by the end of this book will heavily inform their actions in upcoming books, for better or for worse.

There are so many moments I want to call out as effective character-building or relationship-changing moments or just really cool scenes – but they would all be spoilers. Suffice it to say that I cried once or twice, but also cheered. The final chapters are a whirlwind of action and emotion. And, for those concerned: NO CLIFFHANGER. Everything important is resolved. Which doesn’t mean there aren’t unanswered questions – it’s an on-going series, after all.

The book contains the usual bonus novella, this time narrated by Rayseline. I don’t want to say too much about it so as to not spoil certain moments in the main novel, but I will say this: while I am not a believer that every villain needs a tragic backstory followed by a redemption arc, I do think Rayseline, like Simon before her, deserves the redemption arc she is on. This novella is an excellent start to that, the events of the main novel notwithstanding.

Final note: The eighteenth book in the series, The Innocent Sleep, releases in October of this year, and tells many of the events of this book from the POV of Toby’s husband Tybalt. I’ll be posting my review of that close to, if not on, release date.

I received an electronic advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Sleep No More released September 5, 2023.

Book Review: SOMEONE ELSE'S STORY

TITLE: Someone Else’s Story

AUTHOR: Laird Ryan States

128 pages, The Seventh Terrace, ISBN 9781990082245 (paperback, e-book)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

REVIEW: Someone Else’s Story perfectly melds various types of horror (gothic, cosmic, body) with the classic stylings of the weird pulp genre in a sharp, fast-paced story that touches on the ways in which we lie to ourselves and others to protect ourselves from the pains of our past and sometimes our present.

Tom Bradstreet: investigative journalist with a death wish; occasional troubleshooter for a British spy agency that keeps tabs on the supernatural; unwilling immortal; and usually the supporting character in other people’s adventures. Having exiled himself to Edmonton, Canada to drink himself to oblivion, Tom thinks he’s out of the spy game, but they pull him back in to investigate a controversial artist named William S. Frankenstein, whose works are pure body horror and whose abilities may be supernatural.

Tom is, personality-wise, a contemporary of characters like John Constantine and Harry Dresden: world-weary, acerbic, keeping people who could love him at an emotional distance while at the same time feeling every emotional high and low relationships bring. His character comes through clearly in every line, a bit lovable despite his clear attempts to be otherwise.

The main antagonist is exactly who you think he is, but there are layers to his characterization that develop him beyond the way he’s usually presented in sequels to the work he originally appeared in. He is just as world-weary as Tom but is far angrier about it. I enjoyed the juxtaposition between the two in how they see the world, how they cope with their own personal histories, and how they deal with the world around them. Frankenstein’s wife is also an intriguing character and if I have any complaint about the book, it’s that we didn’t get a deeper look inside her thoughts and motivations. Then again, maybe that’s a good thing, because she was easily the scariest part of the book.

Forewarned being forearmed, readers should note that there is a lot of graphic gore and violence throughout the book, as indicated by the mention of body horror earlier. Fans of body horror especially will enjoy this book, but so will fans of occult detectives, cosmic horror, and classic horror. States brings it all together satisfactorily. This is the first Laird Ryan States book I’ve read, and now I plan to seek out his earlier work.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the author in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Someone Else’s Story published July 7, 2023.

Book Review: PERILOUS TIMES

TITLE: Perilous Times

AUTHOR: Thomas D. Lee

485 pages, Ballantine Books, ISBN 9780593499016 (hardcover; also e-book and audiobook)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

Perilous Times by Thomas D. Lee blends Arthurian tropes with a near-future, post-climate change dystopia which asks, among other ideas, how bad things need to become before King Arthur returns as prophesied. The “once and future king,” said to be destined to return in the time of England’s greatest peril, has yet to reappear – despite two world wars and multiple other conflicts that surely could have benefitted from Arthur’s strength and expertise. Along the way, the novel also investigates the nature of heroism, the ways in which doing the right thing sometimes leads to the wrong result, and how hard it is to alter our own ingrained beliefs and sense of self-worth.

Lee tweaks the “Arthur will return” trope by giving us a version of our world in which it is not Arthur but his core knights, ensorcelled by Merlin, who secretly return when England is in peril. Kay, Lancelot, Galehaut, and others find themselves occasionally revived long enough to do what needs doing to preserve the realm. This time, Kay and Lancelot, who have a not-pleasant history, find themselves on opposite sides of a battle between a group of environmentalists (and other revolutionaries) and the oil barons and oligarchs who control a collapsing political state and whose policies have resulted in a flooded, impoverished, crippled “United Kingdom.” Equally important to the narrative are Miriam, the idealistic but insecure environmentalist Kay rescues from death when he first awakens; Regan, an older friend of Miriam with secrets of her own; and Lancelot’s also-immortal government spymaster Marlowe (yes, that Marlowe).

Into the already near-apocalyptic world the characters inhabit (Lee’s descriptions of flooded towns, disease- and prejudice-plagued refugee camps, and massive oil rigs are viscerally palpable) comes magic that may save the world or may doom it. The magic is as much of a threat as the changed climate is, depending on who ends up wielding it. At the heart of many Arthurian retellings is the idea of “Might for Right” (as opposed to “might makes right”) and Lee plays with that concept throughout the book, with characters debating the proper use, if any, of force to solve problems. The various POV characters allow for a nuanced discussion in the context of many of our current societal problems – not just climate change, but white supremacy, xenophobia, misogyny, and more.

Lee also gives us a more diverse cast than traditional Arthurian retellings (a trend I’ve noticed the past handful of years and for which I’m happy): Miriam is a woman of color; her peers include an older woman, a transgender character, and a lesbian couple; Kay, Arthur’s adoptive brother, is a man of color with pagan beliefs; Lancelot is homosexual (and yes, Lee does give us an in-flashback tweak to the standard Camelot love-triangle). This allows the author to explore the idea of who gets to be a “hero” and how that might be perceived by less open-minded people. Through Kay and Lancelot, the author also gets to investigate how we process grief and grudges and what both might look like for the eternally reincarnated.

Arthurian purists, who want the king and his knights portrayed only in the noblest of lights, may want to pass this one up because the author does not shy away from showing the characters’ flaws. But for those like me who enjoy retellings in which “infallible” legends are revealed as having been fallible/human should pick this up, as should those who like their fantasy creatures mixed with modern real-world concerns.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Perilous Times published on May 23, 2023.

Book Review: THE SALT GROWS HEAVY

TITLE: The Salt Grows Heavy

AUTHOR: Cassandra Khaw

106 pages, Tor Nightfire, ISBN 9781250830913 (hardcover, e-book, audiobook)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

The Salt Grows Heavy cements Cassandra Khaw as one of the modern masters of the horror novella. Tonally, the book is very different from Khaw’s magnificent, ethereal 2021 novella Nothing but Blackened Teeth, which just proves the author’s range, as both books kept me engrossed through very different means.

Salt is narrated by a mermaid who married a king, but this is no happily-ever-after tale. The King has tortured his wife (including cutting out her tongue) and forced her to bear his daughters who, just prior to the start of the novella, have devoured their father, his court, and most of his kingdom. Among the survivors are the now-free mermaid and the court’s mysterious non-binary Plague Doctor, who flee the castle in search of safe haven. Which, this being a horror novella, they do not find, encountering instead a group of nearly feral children and the men they worship as gods. And this is when the story gets really disturbing.

The mermaid’s narrative voice is lush and detailed, bordering on archaic, while still being relatable to the modern reader. The weight of her experiences at her husband’s hands, the pride and fear she expressed about her daughters, inform every sentence. The developing bond between mermaid queen and plague doctor as they learn each other’s secrets, is the beautiful core of an otherwise horrific and bloody story; the fits and starts of awkward mutual attraction are so real that I recognized myself in each moment. But fair warning: this is not a cozy romance. The mermaid also narrates, in visceral detail, moments of brutal body horror that disturbed me even while I was unable to look away. The mermaid and the Plague Doctor each have experienced debilitating trauma at the hands of people who should have cared for them, through which the author explores the abuses of power endemic to so many fairy tales.

In The Salt Grows Heavy, Cassandra Khaw comingles threads and themes from fairy tales both famous (The Little Mermaid) and less-so (The Three Army Surgeons), along with works as seminal as Frankenstein and The Lord of the Flies – a combination which in lesser hands maybe would not work, but in Khaw’s hands becomes a vessel for exploring othering, outsidership, and the myriad ways in which we find ourselves controlled and confined.

I received an electronic advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The Salt Grows Heavy was published on May 2, 2023

Book Review: THE HOUSE OF DROUGHT

TITLE: The House of Drought

AUTHOR: Dennis Mombauer

106 pages, Stelliform Press, ISBN 978177709178 (paperback, e-book)

MY RATING: 4 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: Mombauer expertly weaves threads from different times through the common ground of a haunted house, keeping the reader guessing as to how it will all come together. The taste of dust and a sense of desperation permeate every page, with hope blooming unexpectedly in small corners.

LONG REVIEW: In The House of Drought, Dennis Mombauer combines the tropes of classic Gothic literature – an abandoned mansion with a questionable history situated in a remote location – with the contemporary climate emergency and Sri Lankan history to create a tightly-written novella that keeps the reader guessing how it will all come together as it spans multiple time frames and drips with atmosphere. The taste of dust and a sense of desperation permeate almost every page, with hope blooming unexpectedly in small corners.

The mansion at the hear of things is a Sri Lankan colonialist relic, long abandoned by the Europeans who built it when a caretaker named Ushu brings four children there to protect them from racially biased violence. When thugs arrive to collect a debt, eldest child Jasmit leads most of the children into a bathroom whose running tap is a portal to a mystical Dry House. The Dry House is both haven and horror. One child runs into the forest that surrounds the plantation, encountering the supernatural Sap Mother, who has her own agenda.

Parts of the story are told through Jasmit’s eyes, and parts through those of a climate disaster documentarian who has become obsessed with the plantation and begins investigating its history and reputation – including another family who lived there after Ushu’s charges disappeared. The shifts between POVs, the stories within stories, are sometimes jarring – but that adds to the overall sense that something is very not right with this house and the forest surrounding it, something dangerous that continues to threaten adults and children alike. I think this is part of the reason the story has lingered with me months after my initial reading: I feel as off-kilter as the characters do.

The generational similarities and differences, the backgrounds the characters are coming from, also add to that overall atmosphere … almost, but not quite, a “the more things change, the more they remain the same” feeling. I know very little about the history of Sri Lanka, and I do wonder how this book resonates with readers more familiar with the actual history.

Another reason the book has lingered with me is that pure atmosphere. The sweltering heat of the climate-change present day scenes is palpable, as is the parched sur-reality of the Dry House. Mombauer is at his best with the visceral sensory details (I felt dehydrated just reading the Dry House scenes), as well as in the way he expressed the unreality of the supernatural forces at work. Even his “jump scares” are potent.

I suppose if there’s one thing I wanted more of it was Sap Mother. A looming presence throughout, a counterpoint to the Dry House (both malevolent but in different ways), I felt like she deserved a bit more screen time than she got. But the scenes she does get are chillingly effective.

The House of Drought clocks in at a fast, engrossing 106 pages, and I suspect I’ll be seeing something new every time I re-read it.

Book Review: THE HITHERTO SECRET EXPERIMENTS OF MARIE CURIE

TITLE: The Hitherto Secret Experiments of Marie Curie

EDITORS: Bryan Thomas Schmidt and Henry Herz

350 pages, Blackstone Publishing, ISBN 9781665047036 (hardcover, also e-book and audio)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: An excellent collection of stories that consider what might have happened had Marya Skłodowska (who grew up to be Marie Curie) used her scientific knowledge to combat threats to her family and friends. While most of the stories feature a supernatural threat, a few are more standard mysteries. The tales are grounded in the truths of Marya’s childhood: the early deaths of her mother and elder sister, the Russian occupation of Warsaw, and the lack of public education for girls. Many of the stories are followed by author’s notes explaining the science Marya uses to solve problems and help her friends, which I hope will add to the editors’ intent of inspiring children, especially girls, to go into STEM fields.

LONGER REVIEW: The Hitherto Secret Experiments of Marie Curie posits a world in which the teenage Marie Curie, née Skłodowska, uses her scientific knowledge to protect family and friends from threats ranging from murderers to the supernatural. While a few of the stories stray from the concept (either by not including a science-based solution to the problem, or by having the title character do something downright villainous), most fit the bill.

Marya Skłodowska grew up in Warsaw, which was then under Russian dominion. Girls were only allowed to attend school to a certain age, and Poles were treated by the Russians as second-class citizens in their own city. When laboratory instruction in the sciences was removed from the curricula for Polish students, Marya and some of her peers attended a “flying university” that changed locations to avoid Russian detection. Most of the stories take place during the time Marya and her friends were students at a regular “gymnasia” (school) for Polish girls, but a few take place during the “flying university” years, and at least one during the year Marya spent living with relatives in the Polish countryside. Only one (“The Beast” by Stacia Deutsch) features an adult Marie Curie and is a neat twist on the typical time-travel story.

The volume opens with “Uncrowned Kings” by Seanan McGuire, who herself knows more than just a little bit about using hard science in science fiction and horror. After the death of her eldest sister by typhus, Marya stops believing in God and starts trusting in science. When something that seems like typhus rears its ugly head six years later but only affecting children and teens including another of her sisters, Marya follows the evidence to find the true source of this latest scourge: a mythical rat-king in the sewers. McGuire’s tale sets the tone of the book perfectly: showcasing Marya’s determination to not let others fall victim to preventable disease, her curiosity about the scientific underpinnings of the universe, her devotion to family and friends, all ensconced in a story that includes some fantastical element. “The Cold White Ones” by Susanne L. Lambdin also uses the return of typhus to Warsaw as a launching point but with a different supernatural problem at the core.

Marya’s grief and anger over the untimely deaths of her mother and eldest sister, Zofia, are palpable in many of the stories, not just McGuire’s. Sometimes the emotions spur the action, sometimes the action helps Marya process her grief – I’m thinking particularly here of Alethea Kontis’ beautiful “Marya’s Monster,” in which Marya returns from a St. Andrew’s Day birthday party to encounter a wolf-like monster under her bed. I don’t want to say too much more about how the story progresses, except that it is a stunning look at how we process grief and loss.

Other favorites in the anthology that feature a supernatural menace of some sort as Mylo Cabria’s “Three Ravens,” Scott Sigler’s “A Glow in the Dark,” and Jonathan Maberry’s “The Night Flyers,” which closes on the book on as solid a note as McGuire’s story opened it, focusing as it does on the other bane of Marya’s existence: the Russian overlords controlling Warsaw. The story is especially affecting as in 2023 we watch Russia’s continued war on Ukraine.

Not every story features a supernatural element. In “The Magic of Science,” co-editor Bryan Thomas Schmidt teams with author G.P. Charles to give us a wonderful “cozy mystery:” a girl in Marya’s dorm wakes up to discover her skin has turned blue. Later that day, a cook at the school dies. Supernatural explanations are put forward by her fellow students, but Marya is sure there is a rational scientific explanation. There is, and the path to it is well-developed, a very “fair play” kind of mystery. Steve Pantazis’ “The Prize” also seems to lack, or at least downplays, a supernatural element, pitting Marya and a rival classmate against the impending death of the classmate’s father by metal poisoning.

Many of the stories are followed with an explanation of the science that underpins the story, which I think enhances the book’s ability to interest young readers in the sciences and encourage them, especially young girls, to pursue STEM studies.

I received an electronic advance review copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The Hitherto Secret Experiments of Marie Curie was published on April 11, 2023.

Book Review: THE LIES OF THE AJUNGO

TITLE: The Lies of the Ajungo

AUTHOR: Moses Ose Utomi

98 pages, TorDotCom Publishing, ISBN 9781250849069 (hardcover, also in e-book)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: In The Lies of the Ajungo, Moses Ose Utomi gifts us with a story that turns that basic concept at odd and poignant angles, serving as commentary on the politics and societal maneuverings of our own world while still giving us a heartbreaking coming-of-age story set in an intriguing secondary fantasy world. The main character’s journey from innocent boy facing a brutal rite of passage to a man knowledgeable about the way the world really works is neither rushed nor dragged out. His path is not easy and involves un-learning “facts” and opinions that have been ingrained. Utomi also beautifully captures the “fairy tale / fable” voice in his omniscient narrator – I truly felt at times like Tutu’s story was being told around a campfire for a community of listeners. The style kept me engaged.

LONGER REVIEW: The Lies of the Ajungo could easily have been a grand multi-book YA fantasy series: young boy goes on a quest to save his city from the machinations of a more powerful, evil, city-state. Instead, Moses Ose Utomi gifts us with a story that turns that basic concept at odd and poignant angles, serving as commentary on the politics and societal maneuverings of our own world while still giving us a heartbreaking coming-of-age story set in an intriguing secondary fantasy world.

Tutu lives in the City of Lies, a drought-stricken city on the edge of the Forever Desert where what water is available is provided to the city by the Ajungo, a domineering foreign city-state. The Ajungo’s price? The tongues of every citizen at or above the age of thirteen, so they make speak no ill of the Ajungo. With his mother on her deathbed, Tutu approaches the city’s leader for a camel and supplies to go in search of a better water source. He is granted one year, with the reminder that “there are no Heroes in the City of Lies,” and that once he’s outside the city limits, “there are no friends to the City of Lies.” He heads out expecting no help from anyone he might meet along the way.

Of course, Tutu encounters a series of challenges to his quest, from desert wildlife he’s never seen before to humans he assumes are the Ajungo. But he also learns more of the outside world and his city’s relationship to it, through his encounters with three sisters who hail from a city where the Ajungo have demanded a tribute of ears, and a wise man from a city where the Ajungo demanded eyes. I was done with the book before I realized how deftly Utomi had worked in the classic “hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil” imagery in the form of the body parts the Ajungo choose to demand from the populace of these different cities. The trope is usually used to connote someone’s willful ignorance of the world around them; I think this is the first time I’ve seen it used as a tool of power, to subjugate and control the masses. Subtle and effective!

Tutu’s journey from innocent boy facing a brutal rite of passage to a man knowledgeable about the way the world really works is neither rushed nor dragged out. His path is not easy and involves un-learning “facts” and opinions that have been ingrained. Watching him go from untrusting loner to a team player without ever losing sight of his original mission is painful at times; Utomi doesn’t shy away from the anguish Tutu feels over his mother’s impending death or the inevitable betrayals that are a part of stories like this.

The Ajungo, who seem to have an answer to every city’s problem but always at a steep price, are the evil that looms over the entire book. I will not spoil the big reveals nor the resolution, but I will say that both are well-seeded, well-earned, and extremely satisfactory. And Utomi beautifully captures the “fairy tale / fable” voice in his omniscient narrator – I truly felt at times like Tutu’s story was being told around a campfire for a community of listeners. The style kept me engaged.

According to various online sources, The Lies of the Ajungo is only the first book in the Forever Desert series. While I think it stands perfectly well on its own as a complete whole, I do look forward to returning to this world in future volumes.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The Lies of the Ajungo released on March 21, 2023.

Book Review: FEED THEM SILENCE

TITLE: Feed Them Silence

AUTHOR: Lee Mandelo

112 pages, Tordotcom Publishing, ISBN 9781250824509 (hardcover; also, e-book and audio)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: In Feed Them Silence, Lee Mandelo’s penchant for characters searching for answers to questions that get to the heart of who they are combines with their felicity with sensory details that immerse the reader in the character’s head and world to create a work of lush, sometimes gut-punching, beauty that questions where the line is between ethical and abusive research practices involving animals who can’t give consent and ruminates on human and animals’ shared need to belong. Feed Them Silence is a moving and effective look at the ways in which we seek connection and how our obsessions lead as much to heartbreak as to breakthroughs. At 112 pages, it’s a fast read but not a forgettable one.

LONGER REVIEW: Lee Mandelo’s new release, Feed Them Silence, is in concept and execution about as far as one can get from their previous book Summer Sons: novella vs. novel, science fiction rather than supernatural horror, cold labs and winter forests in place of hot Southern gothic buildings and summer cemeteries. What the works share is lead characters determined to find answers to questions that get to the heart of who they are, and Mandelo’s felicity with sensory details that immerse the reader in the character’s head and world.

Doctor Sean Kell-Luddon’s lifelong love of wolves has led to her current research project: using a surgically inserted neurological interface to transmit the thoughts and emotions of one of the world’s last free-roaming wild wolves to Sean’s own brain. (At the same time, her research team collects the raw data of the transmission for possible future use by the folks funding the research project.) Mandelo does a wonderful job contrasting Sean’s inner life when connected to her wolf Kate, especially the sense of belonging and emotional connection, with her outer life, which is clearly fraying even before the novella begins (especially her marriage, but her relationship to her team as well). Sean is searching not only for an understanding of, and a way to help, her nearly-extinct favorite species but also for a deeper connection psychologically to replace the one she’s losing in the physical world.

Scientists often speak of the dangers of anthropomorphizing – assigning human thoughts and characteristics to – animals (wild or domesticated) whose brains do not function the way ours do. Sean’s rational intention to avoid it falters the longer and more often she is directly connected to Kate via the interface. Transcribing what she gleans into human terms and being unable to separate her personal life from her project sets up the final conflict of the book beautifully.

If I have one complaint about the book, it’s that the narrow Sean-centric POV, which gives us such amazing insight into Sean’s intentions, history, and altering mental state, does not allow us to get to know some of the other characters as well as I would have liked, in particular Sean’s wife, Riya. Riya does play an important role in the story, she’s not just a prop to hang Sean’s faults on, so I would like to have seen some of the events of the book from her perspective. That’s the joy and the sting of novellas, though. I an avowed fan of the format, but the tight focus that makes novellas so enjoyable sometimes leaves us wanting the deeper insight a longer work might provide. That being said, the supporting cast of Feed Them Silence is all well-drawn and distinct. The world-building surrounding Sean, Riya, the team, and Kate is perfectly evoked: with just a few sentences, we know we are in a near-future where climate change has wreaked havoc on wild animal populations as resources dwindle. Also, a world where corporate interests are willing to fund cutting-edge research projects that academia is hesitant to touch – drawing attention to how hard it is to delineate that line where ethical research turns abusive and teasing questions of intent versus execution when it comes to the uses to which the research results are put.

Through it all, Mandelo fills the book with lush, sometimes gut-punching, sensory details, especially but not only when Sean is connected to Kate. I became completely immersed in descriptions of the cold winter forest, the aches and pains of being undernourished, the smells of fellow pack members, the taste of blood and raw meat as the pack takes down a rare bit of prey. I felt like I was truly there. There’s also a very affecting scene between Sean and her Riya that trades on the same level of sensory detail.

Feed Them Silence is a moving and effective look at the ways in which we seek connection and how our obsessions lead as much to heartbreak as to breakthroughs. At 112 pages, it’s a fast read but not a forgettable one.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Feed Them Silence released on March 14, 2023.