Tag: Book Blogging

For the Love of Books #34

In the midst of winter I’m immersed in fantasy, both in writing the next instalment of my fantasy series, and in my current read, an epic saga in a magical world. More on those another time. It’s a genre rooted in folklore, and so I thought I’d share a few recent non-fiction reads, which touch on the subject of folklore from different angles depending on the cultural lens.

Black Dog Folklore 

by Mark Norman

Black dog folklore is a fascinating read, bringing to life a subject that in many ways feels familiar: from the well-known idea of hell hounds, to the well-loved story of Hounds of the Baskervilles, to The Magic Tinderbox. But while reminiscing on favourite childhood tales of unforgettable dogs with eyes as big as saucers, the extensive and varied eye witness accounts at the core of this book take us on a fascinating journey. Just as dogs have become central to family life, so ghost dogs are woven into our folklore. This well-drawn collection offers an extensive and comprehensive study of these elusive canines, as guardians, protectors and deliverers of omens, stories that illuminate, explain and deliver the eerie, while highlighting the plethora of threads woven into the fabric of our own cultural backdrop. Expertly told, while delivered with a seamless conversational style, make this a page turning read, and one I am sure I will revisit.

The Book of Yokai; Mysterious Creatures of Japanese Folklore

by Michael Dylan Foster, Shinonome Kijn (Illustrator)

The Book of Yokai is an extraordinary book summed up by an extraordinary word, Monsterful, to denote the rare and truly marvellous manifestations of otherness that the undefinable category of Yokai brings. Through informative encyclopaedic narratives, punctuated by gorgeous illustrations, we are taken on a journey of the weird and wonderful, the dreamlike and the haunting, through experiences that don’t easily fit into our everyday understanding, yet are somehow relatable by the bizarreness. I enjoyed the nod to well-known characterisation from the much loved Studio Ghibli, and the teasing delivery that so eloquently describes a spirit world just beyond the reach of language, where limitless yokai creatures occupy the space between. This is a deep dive into Japanese folklore, that is inventive, surprising, inspiring and suitably unsettling.

The Evolution of African Fantasy and Science Fiction

Edited by Francesca T Barbini

This small book is an important read, beginning with discussion into how far back SF dates, and how SF and colonialism emerged in parallel, exclusive of African Science Fiction. Technological developments, science, and anthropology, crucial to SF, were intertwined with colonial history and ideology, made possible through military dominance, and leading to the idea of colonised subjects with their cultural beliefs being seen as inferior.

The emergence of African Fantasy and Science Fiction is essential in changing this narrative, along with stories from Asia and indigenous voices from around the world. Technology has facilitated circulation and consumption of these stories, therefore showing its market value to established publishers, consequently creating space for more writers to offer their perceptions and strengthen positive perceptions. In turn this offers an essential sense of belonging to readers worldwide, offering cultural insight and contributing to multi-cultural awareness. There was a sobering reminder that Africans have been producing science fiction, fantasy, magical realism since the genre began, since storytelling for all of us is as old as time, leaving a huge body of work, past and present, to explore. It’s an exciting future with voices such as Nnedi Okorafor continuing to weave African folklore into Africanjujuism stories, and creating inventive Africanfuturism leading the way. An inspiring, empowering and thought-provoking read.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #32

A nod to my last post themed on nature, and a recommendation following a gorgeous day out in Dorset at Abbotsbury Swannery. Tipping a dramatic coastline, this unique and natural wildlife habitat is the only place in the world where you are able to walk through the heart of a managed colony of free-flying, nesting Mute Swans. And what a place to live – it’s no wonder they choose to stay.

 

And after a big breath of avian sea air, it’s back to the realm of stories with Comic Con. Star Wars is clearly a favourite, and the full size array of robots through the franchise. They may be made of metal, but they are far from expressionless.

The emergence of AI and its interplay in the art world is a big topic. From droids, space travelling humanoids, alien terminators, and colonising machines set to take over the world, robotics and AI have long featured in our stories. Recently I was introduced to a fascinating series, with a whole new take on this vast subject:

The Subjugate; by Amanda Bridgeman

In a watchful world where humanity is complemented by AI, cities are ruled by security companies, yet crime and murder are still commonplace. The story features two detectives, Salvi Brentt and Mitch Grenville, each one an interesting character in their own right, with intriguing complex backstories and a dynamic that at times complimented the dis-ease of the thriller, which I found compelling.

The setting of the story is well-drawn, an imagined future where ethical limitations of AI are subtly observed, with talking robo-cleaners and dedicated AI prefilling data of transcriptions and interviews, yet always with a human hand to sign them off to ensure their eligibility in court. Yet some pullaway communities are resisting technological advances. Just outside the city, the unincorporated community of Bountiful is one of the leading pullaway communities, and one of the most religious. Founded in 1934, it is a town built on religion, populated by the Children of Christ. There’s no internet, mobile phones or computers, although it does have a close relationship with the nearby Solme Complex. The Solme Complex houses violent criminals called Subjugates, who undergo extreme treatments involving religion and technology, and include painful chemical castrations and implanted neural technology which can be used to shock into submission. There are interesting themes around redemption, forgiveness and freedom from sin, with aptly disturbing methods. Subjugates who are successfully converted over the course of several years of ‘treatment’ are called Serenes. They are released unsupervised but with the neural implants recording electrical activity in the brain. When heightened emotion is detected, it triggers a visual alarm in the silver crown worn by Serenes, called a halo.

Following the discovery of a young woman’s body in the community of Bountiful, the two detectives head out to investigate. A discovery of biolume at the scene, bacterial natural lighting, leads them to the Solme Complex, with Subjugates the prime suspects. As the investigation continues, further layers of the world are revealed, with the relevant question of ‘how far is too far’ with technology explored through inventive examples, including augmented realities where avatars are free to play out forbidden desires. There are questions around, just because you can, should you, and are we all slaves to something whether it be religion, technology, or law enforcement? And there are themes around how this all connects to freedom and control. In a bid to be free, do we just end up creating further structures, disciplines and controls? Is freedom truly possible in a world of corruption? I enjoyed the exploration of these big questions, the intriguing future dystopian world, and contrasting characters leading this fast-paced sci-fi thriller that kept me wanting to know more.

The Sensation; by Amanda Bridgeman

Salvi Brentt had killed a man, and he had almost killed her. Under psych review she was cleared for active duty and has a new partner, the department’s dedicated AI, Riverton. A case opens when the body of 34-year-old Devon Barker is found in Sensation. A woman, Myki Natashi, is discovered unconscious in the bedroom by police, who had responded to a domestic disturbance. Myki doesn’t know what happened, and only remembers dinner the night before with Devon. Vincent Calabri was seen in the area, a man with a small rap sheet in the employ of detective Francis Melon, who is Myki’s ex-boyfriend of 3 years. Melon works in the financial industry, a known acquaintance of John Dorant, affording him loose ties to organised crime, and friends in high places. This case is also coupled with the murder of undercover officer, Caine, and the disappearance of the Chief’s daughter into a drug gang.

As in the first book of the series, I enjoyed the character arcs, and in particular the main character, Salvi, a complex woman with a past, and strength to face herself and get the job done. She is still seeing her old partner, Mitch, which was an interesting aspect of her character development in the first book, and continues to add interest in this sequel. Previously, Salvi had faced two serial killers, and one was still alive: Edward Moses, Subjugate-52, locked up in the Solme Complex. Subjugate-52 has been asking for Salvi. He hasn’t received what was promised him after helping Salvi in the last case. He was promised to become a Serene, but Salvi disappeared on him, renegading on her word. Now she is concerned what level of deception he is capable of, and how he might manipulate access to the wider world.

The development of the role of AI in this sequel was particularly interesting. Talking robo-cleaners have names, and the AI, Riverton, is humanised through friendly interactions, showing apparent consideration to which Salvi responds in kind. Hackers cause chaos to evidence by wiping CCTV footage, and more sinister, they hack neural implants that leave a brain wide open to abuse and full-on takeover. A broad range of available technology sees a further reduction in human/human interaction, with drone surveillance, VR headsets and tasers, robot dancers, and holographic forms. Neural tech is also injected in drug form, rendering a person entirely helpless to being used as a sex droid. There are interesting questions here, since the drug lowers a person’s inhibitions and heightens sexual desire, leading to sex. But this is under the influence of a drug, illegally administered without consent, and therefore constitutes rape.

Tech used to keep subjugates in line can equally be used to keep slaves in line, adding a further, compelling sinister edge. Salvi is on a deadly mission to uncover truths, and among the truths are: where do we draw the line, who is good and who is bad or is society just lurking somewhere between, what is right and wrong and who has the right, who is hunter and who is prey? Technology affords power, and with it comes responsibility, but is anyone responsible enough? These are questions I am left with, making this an inspiring read.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #28

The last day of November, and we wake to a fine drizzle of snow. I imagine it will be fleeting, but it’s cold, and the perfect time to cosy up with a good read. I have two titles, inspired by the atmosphere that snow, mist, winter weather can bring. I’m not thinking jolly season’s greetings, more like the bleak atmosphere of separation, and unease. I’m late for Halloween, but the first title brings a malevolent spirit into a snowy scape…

Dark Matter: A Ghost Story; by Michelle Paver

Jack Miller never intended to join the Arctic mission, but despite himself he heads to the islands halfway between Norway and the Pole. The expedition team are to study Arctic Biology and ice dynamics, and carry out a meteorological survey. It’s a mission meant to last a year, but the Arctic wilderness has a dark history. Stories told from the time when the Arctic islands became part of Norway in 1925, tell of lethal accidents and marauding bears, men going mad from the dark and loneliness, shooting themselves, walking off cliffs for no reason. One expedition group in the early days refused to leave their cabin, out of terror of the deadness beyond, a terror reportedly not rooted in some phobic disorder. Now, the terrifying events in Gruhuken are about to be relived, and recorded in Jack’s diary, beginning 7th January 1937.

A malevolent spirit walks this icy wilderness, and the bleak surrounds provide a perfect backdrop. It’s easy to feel like prey in the face of polar bears with dirty brown pelts stained by blood and blubber, but not so easy to shake the feeling of being hunted. Dining on reindeer and an eclectic mix of tinned food, offers little comfort, and after a series of events, Jack finds himself alone except for the huskies. The rising feel of impending doom is well drawn, subtle and engaging in a foreboding environment, and Jack is soon left to consider whether writing will exorcise his demons, or whether speaking about it will just invoke them?  Either way, the spirit wants Gruhuken, and Jack Miller is standing in its way.

Central to the story is the question: Is it the dark people fear, or what lurks in it? It’s a question which drives the narrative, bringing an intriguing balance of unsettling apprehension, fated unease, and a lingering dread, teasing, tangible, yet never quite in reach.

The Fox; by Solveig Palsdottir

What do you do when your arrival means the world, when your presence is so symbolic, you simply must not leave?

Guogeir Fransson, hoping to put professional tragedy and personal turmoil behind him, leaves the Reykjavik police force for a dead end job in a small town in eastern Iceland. His detective instincts are triggered when a foreign woman arrives into this tight-knit community, and suddenly disappears soon after. The trail takes him to a remote farmhouse where an elderly woman and her son live with a sinister past.

Sajee, from Sri Lanka, arrives in Hofn to take up work in her aunt’s beauty salon. But it seems the job does not exist. Help from a friendly stranger takes her to the farm of Selma and her son, Isak. They offer board, lodgings and the promise of pay for cleaning and help around the place. It seems like a practical solution to Sajee’s problem, but it is an offer wrapped in mystery. Sajee’s vulnerability is clear. From Sri Lanka’s chaotic district of Colombo, growing up she was left alone with a violent father, finding sanctuary at the local beauty shop among cheerful women, until the shop was forced to close. Postcards from her aunt, who had travelled to Iceland before her, were the hope she had clung to. Now she was alone and illiterate in a strange land. And Selma’s eyes were watching, too closely. What familiarity did she see in the young woman that drew her so tightly? Was it Sajee’s cleft lip that she discretely attempted to conceal? Was it illusion?

The characters were well-drawn and entirely believable. The backdrop to the story is cloaked in mystery and folklore that I found completely compelling. The dead are in the family plot, but the hidden people, tall, dignified, with unlimited senses and a higher consciousness dwell in mountain cliffs. They help people in trouble, spirit problems away, but when wronged, revenge is bitter. Victims have been known to go up in a puff of smoke, or be driven mad. The farm skirts a harbour town where shipwrecks mean people are forced to watch husbands and brothers drown, a place of depression and alcoholism, where people go off the rails. As the layers of mystery unfold, I was absorbed by the world and the unexpected, unfurling of sinister events. A read made more chilling by its relatability, as we are taken down the path of unwittingly losing power; how our own insecurities can trap us, how trust can be fatal.

What are you reading?

 

Representation and Belonging in SFF

It’s been a busy couple of weeks, firstly taking part in this year’s World Fantasy Convention all the way to Kansas from the comfort of my writing room, because there’s no place like home.

With fabulous authors from all over the globe, reading and speaking on a great range of panels, there’s much to inspire, to share and collaborate. For my part it was a pleasure to sit in on the Magical Healing and Disability Aids in Fantasy panel, discussing representation of disability in the genres, and exploring the added creative options that magic and the fantastical can bring. Thankfully representation of diverse abilities is improving. A recent cinema trip introduced me to the character, Joshua in the film, The Creator, a wonderfully layered character, a double amputee with seriously fancy prosthetics in this world of AI. Still, his disability is kept visible, representation organically woven into the character arc of a hero.

It got me thinking about the book, Noor, by Nnedi Okorafor. Noor is the main character, a young woman born with significant disabilities, further disabled in a car crash as a teen. The story is her journey into cybernetics, rebuilding herself in unique ways, focused on the aim of wanting to move through the world on her own terms. And it’s a wonderful read, as is Broken Places and Outer Places, Nnedi Okorafor’s auto-biographical novella.

Empowered characters pushing back against the ableist view that disability needs to be fixed or cured in order to live a fulfilling life. Professor Xavier didn’t need a cure, and neither did Bran Stark on his journey from childhood underdog to all-powerful three-eyed raven. Just a few more recommendations to add to the conversation:

And last weekend, from Kansas to the New Forest here in the UK, where I joined my lovely publishers for the Play on Words Festival at the wonderfully colourful Forest Arts Centre.

Friday was a gorgeous evening of readings, and among other wonderful authors I was delighted to read from The Warder, a world of gifts and curses, animism and magic, where characters are inextricably bonded, against a backdrop of mysterious dragon mythology. Saturday saw a day of inventive workshops, including one on the subject of young adult fiction, facilitated by myself and Victoria L. Humphreys, author of Not the Work of An Ordinary Boy. What content is too mature for teens? What ways can we approach tough content in books that are inclusive to the younger reader? There’s not much you can’t tackle, it just depends on approach, and, done right, what a wonderful resource books can be, creating space to process difficult stuff, share stories, harbour that all-important sense of belonging. And there’s just so many great YA books out there, too many to name, but here are a few favourites:

      

In the midst of a storm, I was lucky to catch a blue sky and have a moment to contemplate the power of stories, to reflect, give space, inspire, and offer that sense of belonging.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #23

Spring in the UK, from heavy rain to glorious sunshine, fading daffodils to colourful tulips; the unpredictability of changing seasons brings its own kind of magic. And so I’m stopping by with two recommendations of stories with magic in recognisable worlds.

The Iron Brooch by Yvonne Hendrie

In 1940s London, seventeen-year-old Brigid chooses an iron brooch, a family trinket, as her ‘something old’ to wear on her wedding day. But the heirloom is more mysterious than she could have imagined: through it she receives bird-like visions of Scotland’s Doon Hill in Aberfoyle, the place of her father’s homeland. Pregnancy forces Brigid to leave her family home and head to London to find lodgings, but the visions grow stronger, leading Brigid right out of 1940s time, for a while.

So begins the magical dual-timeline novel, connecting 1940s London inextricably with 1690s Scotland, and the story of Robert Kirk, searching for his lost love in realms beyond this world. It is around the time of the festival of Beltane when the veil grows thin, revealing fae sightings and dangerous magic from a wholly mysterious race. Robert’s heartfelt search leads to research and a resulting manuscript, ‘The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns and Fairies,’ by Robert Kirk, a book Brigid grew up reading.

I was absorbed by Brigid’s story from the first, moved by her struggles of grief and pregnancy, and rooting for her as she is forced to navigate the world alone. And as she increasingly sees through the veil, I was utterly captivated by the depth into which the author delves into the preternatural, while expertly grounding us into the real. It is a truly spellbinding tale so tightly woven, that for a moment at least, you question the flickering haze in the corner of your eye.

A Master of Djinn by P.Djeli Clark

The year is 1912, and Lord Worthington oversees the gathering of a secret brotherhood, established to uncover the wisdom of Al-Jahiz, the disappeared Soudanese mystic. The world sits at a precipice, man’s ability to create has exceeded his ability to understand, leaving dangerous forces at play. A masked man arrives, claiming to be Al-Jahiz, and slaying the Brotherhood with powerful magic.

Meanwhile, Fatma is puffing on her hookah. Enchanted massel is a banned substance, but Fatma is practised at sorcery, skilled in conjuring the smoke. While surrounding deals are made over discovered antique bottles, Fatma produces her badge which states she is with the ministry, an organisation charged with creating balance between the mystical and the mundane. When a eunuch arrives with a message for Fatma, she heads off to Giza to investigate the supernatural crime at Lord Worthington’s house. Twenty-four people are dead, burned by fire, though there are no signs of a fire. Abigail, Lord Worthington’s daughter, saw a masked man in the house, but otherwise the identity is a mystery. And so begins a detective investigation by Fatma, her new partner, Agent Hadia, and her old love, Siti.

A magical read, founded on the old Gods entombed beneath the earth of Egypt in colossal sarcophagi, like the Pharoahs of old. And among the hum drum life of Egypt’s streets, alive with tantalising description and compelling narrative, there are men in gold masks, ghuls, beings of flames called Ifrits, and elemental djinns with ephemeral bodies as transparent as sheer fabric. Among city riots, the investigation is brought alive by the central relationship between Fatma and Siti, two women, or a woman and a djinn? And as momentum gains pace, the characters deepen, exploring identity, exploitation, oppression and magic, bringing to life the humanity of magical beings.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #22

Approaching the end of LGBTQ+ history month here in the UK, and I thought I would share two SFF titles, if not for historical relevance, for the significance of representation. Sci-fi has often been seen as ahead of the curve in breaking barriers, and across the genres, marginalised voices are coming to the fore.

The Four Profound Weaves; by R.B. Lemberg

The first of the four profound weaves is woven from wind to signify change, invisible threads woven into whispered weaves, spun from a captured wind and revealing hints pf pink and silver desert hues. This type of descriptive narrative flows throughout this magical novella, with tantalising magic woven from the surrounds, almost plain to see but impossible to catch – just like a magic carpet, which was one of the reasons I was drawn to this book.

The story begins with Uiziya, sitting in her goatskin tent waiting for the return of her exiled Aunt Benesret. Her weaves cannot compare to Benesret’s, whose expert fingers could weave even from bones. Uiziya’s lessons of the Four Profound Weaves are unfinished, and still she waits to inherit her aunt’s loom, waiting to learn the weave of death. It’s a weave that involves an actual death. Benesret previously killed Uiziya’s husband for the sake of the weave. It was the reason Benesret was banished, because she killed. Nevertheless, it is a weave Uiziya must learn, since she is destined to become a great weaver of the Four Profound Weaves, one who would bring the gods themselves to her bidding.

Uiziya’s search for Benesret coincides with the Nameless Man’s search for his name. It is three months since the Nameless Man’s transformation at the ceremony of change, but his people, the Khana, don’t recognise transformed people, instead insisting that the shape of one’s body determines one’s fate. Uiziya is also a changer, since after weaving her cloth, the sandbirds came to her.

This is a brooding tale against a colourful backdrop, incorporating thought-provoking contemporary discussion of gender identity and transitioning. The Nameless Man ponders the social impact of his transformation: all his life he had been a lover, trader, and reluctant grandmother who cared for their grandchildren. Now he was a grandfather. But in his culture, grandchildren never saw their grandfathers. It is insight like this that gives real depth to character, narrative and backdrop. Fantasy woven alongside these personal journeys of transformation, reveal the challenges of surrounding microaggressions designed to undermine an identity to uphold another. I loved the simple statement given in one response to tireless questioning of a person’s identity: ‘This is what feels right to me.’

Thought-provoking themes set against an imaginative world called Birdverse, described with magical lyricism that is a feast for the senses, makes for a truly memorable story.

Gideon the Ninth; by Tamsin Muir

Enter the world of lesbian necromancers…

Gideon lives on a remote planet, home to both the stronghold of the House of the Ninth, and a tiny prison used for criminals whose crimes are so repugnant, they cannot be rehabilitated in their own houses. The Ninth House is an enormous hole cracked vertically into the planet’s core, and the prison is a bubble installation set halfway up into the atmosphere. Gideon first arrived when her mother mysteriously appeared, falling down the planetary shaft. Gideon, just one year old at the time, survived the fall. She was chipped, surnamed and put into the nursery. By age five they knew that she was not a necromancer, and by eight that she would never be a nun. By ten they knew she knew too much and could never be allowed to leave. By the time she is eighteen, Gideon has attempted to run away eighty-six times. The alternative would be to die in this dark netherworld, which would only be the beginning.

On the tenth thousand year of the King of the Undying, Prince of Death, Gideon makes another attempt, only to be thwarted by the Lady of the Ninth House, Reverend Daughter Harrowhawk. Harrowhawk has her own plans for Gideon: for Gideon to become cavalier primary of the House of the Ninth. Serving Harrowhawk may not be Gideon’s idea of a good time, but it’s the only way to leave. But what will she be leaving for?

Welcome to an inventive and ghoulish world, where mysterious tendrils lie in wait to ensnare and crush the life out of those still living; a labyrinth of death, bones, panic, quest and mayhem. Disorganised chaos is punctuated with sarcastic, sadistic and mysterious notes that speak to the reader as much to the characters, tempting you to turn the page and delve further into this Alice in Wonderland-esque creepy maze. Magically weird, dark worldbuilding, with lively narrative and well-scripted dialogue brings to life the humanity of necromancers.

What are you reading?

 

For the Love of Books #21

2023 so far has been filled with some magical reads. As writers we look for those layers to encapsulate and bring to life the essence of characters, cultures, worlds… and two titles stand out, for their intrinsic connection with music, that adds depth in a way that is difficult to define, because it’s as omnipresent as culture in stories masterfully woven.

Nine Bar Blues, by Sheree Renee Thomas

Nine Bar Blues is an extraordinary collection of evocative tales, rich, layered and textured with magic that haunts, uplifts and ascends any bounds of expectation. With prose that sings and muse that flies through the pages, I was hanging onto every word that guided me deeper into the authors layered imaginings and startling observations. From curse-bound sisterhood journeying to the source of ancestry, through poisoned landscapes of an other-worldly earth, to golden mermaids, tales are woven with musical renditions that move with the rhythm of cultural change, alive with the sounds of souls.

This is magic and fantasy rooted in the real; snapshots of life as sharp as cut glass that stop you in your tracks and make you lose your breath for a long pause. From contemporary social justice concerns, and words that carry the weight of history in finely-drawn prose, this collection speaks truth to the abuse of power, truths that sing to slave songs, lost souls, and the blues. An inspiring and masterfully woven collection.

Songspinners, by Sarah Ash

Orial works with her father, Dr Magelonne, in the Sanatorium of the spa city of Sulien. She is close to her father, more so since her mother, Iridial, died. Iridial had lived and breathed music, and now Dr Magelonne forbids music, since it provokes memories too painful to endure. But, like her mother, music flows from Orial like water. Only in the Undercity, at her mother’s shrine, can she practice the art that she has taught herself. But there she experiences strange visions in a waking dream – the searing pain of burning flames.

The underground labyrinth of the Undercity was built by ancient builders, the Lifhendil, commonly known as Songspinners in modern-day Sulien. Their artwork is still displayed on the Undercity’s walls, but their beliefs and language are lost, save for fairy stories and folk tale. This mysterious race possessed a unique trait – multi-coloured irises, which Orial and her mother shared. And as the world unfolds, revealing the depth of Orial’s gift, wonder, intrigue and danger merge.

In the Undercity, Orial is approached by refugees from Bel’Esstar, fleeing persecution from the Commanderie. One of the refugees, Amaru Khassian, is a composer, whose hands have been badly burned, injuries so severe, he won’t regain the use of his hands. A strange and unique connection exists between Orial and Khassian, one that makes clear to Orial that she simply must have music in her life, whilst for Khassian, a dangerous chain of events are triggered. Their personal music describes their uniqueness, and their contrasting and connected plights: Orial’s as darting and bright as a dragonfly’s flight; Khassian’s with despair and madness fuelled by ego.

This is an evocative, beautifully drawn world. I adored the magic, memorable, tangible, yet delightfully just beyond our reach, with tales of musical telepathy, faeries and dragonflies, and mystical reservoirs. Orial’s character was utterly captivating from the start, a thoughtful, determined, empathic young woman, and utterly intriguing in her magic as the story unfolds like an orchestral song. And as tensions run high in this complex world, the question remains, will Orial succumb to madness?

What are you reading?

Jolabokaflod 2022

In celebration of Iceland’s very wonderful Christmas Eve tradition, Jolabokaflod, I bring to you my own ‘Christmas book flood’: a 12 day book advent of my personal favourite reads from 2022. From fantasy and sci-fi, to short collections, to biography, steampunk, and epic historical fiction, it is a wonderful and eclectic collection brought to you in no particular order.

Enjoy!

Day 1 – Book of Fire by Michelle Kenney: feral people, a wild girl, hidden forests and so much more. A perfect blend of imagination, mythology, and plausible science to describe a possible future dystopia.

Day 2 – The Second Bell by Gabriela Houston – the intimate heartfelt story of Salka, a girl born with two hearts. An unforgettable MC, courageous in the face of harsh laws that test her demon heart.

Day 3 – The First Woman by Jennifer Nansubuga Makumbi – and just WOW what a read! Epic, deeply personal, and a testament to the true and lasting connections between history, tradition, the present day… and the immense power of stories.

Day 4 – Coalescence by Tim King – an extraordinary and dynamic collection of rhyming memoir, storytelling verse, rants, raves and revelations that reflect the clear light of day, told with grace, sparkling humour, punchy frankness and expert simplicity.

Day 5 – The Jasmine Throne by Tasha Suri – evocative fantasy with sapphic romance, lush world building, and forbidden tales of origin and magic folklore. Loved the feminist edge, unafraid of tackling issues of independence and empire pertinent to the world as we know it.

Day 6 – Everfair by Nisi Shawl – alternate history of Belgium’s colonization of Congo, exploring an outcome if indigenous people had had their own steam tech. Loved the inventiveness that blends perfectly with the African backdrop.

Day 7 – Broken Places and Outer Spaces by Nnedi Okorafor – biographical read from star athlete with lifelong scoliosis, to a paralysed patient following routine back surgery; how the transformative power of imagination ignited her passion for storytelling.

Day 8 – Noor by Nnedi Okorafor – biotechnology, cybernetics, destiny, and a kick-ass MC, AO, disabled from birth, determined, independent and powerful. ‘There are times when you either save yourself or you don’t.’

Day 9 – There – a wonderful poetry collection from Exeter’s Slam Champion Poet 2022, Clare Morris, in collaboration with artist, Nigel Bird. Word and art woven together, oozing with soul, that makes you want to saviour the moment.

Day 10 – The Mermaid of Black Conch by Monique Roffey – on an imaginary Caribbean island, the love between man and mermaid felt as real as a blackbird’s song. Tantalising blend of the mythical woven into visceral realism of everyday life. A wonderful read.

Day 11 – The Iron Brooch by Yvonne Hendrie – a magical, dual-timeline novel, with captivating depth that delves into the preternatural. Brigid is forced to navigate a world where the veil grows thin, revealing the dangerous and mysterious Celtic fae. Spellbinding.

Day 12 – The Four Profound Weaves by R.B. Lemberg – Uiziya’s journey becoming a great weaver: tantalising magic woven from wind, sand, song and bone. A brooding, sinister and colourful backdrop, with thought-provoking gender politics. Loved the trans MC. And magic carpets! Wonderful read.

***

In turn, it was wonderful to see my own Blood Gift Chronicles make several advents this year, including Stairwell Books.

Now back to my Xmas Eve read…

Wishing everyone a wonderful festive season!

For the Love of Books #18

Thinking along the lines of complex characters, non-conforming women with agency, and sapphic romance in the fantasy genre, I thought I’d stop by with a recent read:

The Jasmine Throne; by Tasha Suri

Read more →