Tag: Reading Reviews

For the Love of Books #36

With 2026 underway, January is the perfect time to look ahead and make plans. I’m excited for the coming year, for new work that is due to come to fruition, and for opportunities to create, share, and discuss. With events on the horizon, the calendar is looking healthy.

My to-read list is looking healthy too, and I look forward to sharing titles, some of which I’ve been itching to get to for some time now, while others landed more by accident. Oftentimes we stick with authors we know, but it’s always exciting to branch out and discover someone new.  And if you’re looking for inspiration, here are two fantasy reads from authors I would highly recommend.

The Green Man’s Heir

By Juliet McKenna

Daniel Mackmain is a man with a secret. He keeps to himself, a lone traveller moving from place to place, picking up work as he goes. But when a girl is murdered, the Derbyshire police take a closer look at this wandering man, and Dan realises that the murder involves the hidden world he was born into. And so begins a contemporary fantasy rooted in ancient myths and British folklore.

The main character’s perspective appealed to me from the start. I appreciated his deep connection with trees and woodland, places he seeks for respite and times of peace while whiling away the hours, carving; an artistic pastime tightly ingrained with identity and heritage. And I appreciated his contemporary voice and straight-forward approach to life, blending easily with the feel of ancient wildwood in his bones, since he is the son of a dryad.  Following Dan’s encounter with the police, where he was fortunately able to give an alibi, a dryad appears to him. It is only the second time he has seen a dryad, the first was upon seeing his dryad mother. These unexpected sightings provide charming reference to folklore, trees and nature, and intrigue that kept me wanting to know more.

I adored the main character’s backdrop, with a childhood whereby he could see what other children could not – scavenging boggarts, and rainbow-winged sprites. The blend of fantasy/folklore/murder mystery definitely worked for me, supported by a main character with a well-defined voice and strong persona able to lead the way as we delve deeper. It brings a whole new meaning to the idea that you can’t run from yourself, or change yourself; you are you, no matter how far you go or how hard you try to hide.

I loved the growing significance of the dryad, Tila, who presents in this world out of a desire to be on her own. Dan wants to talk to her, to get to know her, to discover more about his heritage. It’s also possible she saw the murder, and Dan is keen to gather any information she might have. But dryad’s are a race who live in the present, looking as far as the next season, and care nothing for the past. The intrigue of this ethereal character, combined with our growing understanding of the complex backdrop of the murdered girl, made for an intriguing plot, amid magic, adventure, and the well-carved voice of a main character whose feet remained rooted in the mundane, while his sights were ever drawn to mysterious other realms.

A magical read.

Sorrowland

By Rivers Solomon

Vern had always been ravenous, a hunger that forced her to flee the compound of Cainites in want of something, though she knew she’d never find it. Broken free with an uncanny strength, she retreats to the woods for sanctuary from the deeply religious grip of the compound, Blessed Acres where she was raised, and where her husband, Sherman, is sermon: a marriage designed to contain her. Her child is born free, against a backdrop of howling wolves. Her son is a hungry creature much like herself, who she names, Howling. Soon after, following a suspicious encounter with chasing wolves, his twin, Feral, is born. Vern decided, if the boys asked about their father, she would tell them their father was Lucy, her childhood friend who left the compound before her, a friend she never forgot, who could have been her mate.

The characters are intricately woven, offering haunting depth that left me intrigued to know more of their inner landscapes. I adored Vern’s wild nature, opting for freedom no matter what, birthing alone in the woods, fearless in her endeavours to raise her sons. Her viewpoint also offers fascinating insight into intersex identities and gender politics, as well as broader power dynamics, inclusive of racism and marginalisation featuring as compelling themes.  And from a retrospective lookback at childhood observations, insidious corruption is revealed, from the compound she fled for the wild outside, and inside. Vern’s body is changing, gradual, mesmerising, metamorphosis, that also indicates that she is ready to confront the past and fight for survival, for herself and her family’s.

Compelling narrative delivers a haunting story, journeying through a complex world of motherhood, love, betrayal and lies, and an inner power that refuses to lie dormant. Fearing she is ill, Vern is forced to leave the harsh woodland sanctuary, in a desperate hope she might a friend she never forgot. But the hauntings are real, and the truth is closer than she first imagined. A wonderfully powerful read.

What are you reading?

For the Love of Books #35

It’s been a bookish kind of day in more ways than one, with a trip to Plymouth and Ferndale radio for a show celebrating books, books, and more books. Alongside two other authors, conversation illumed and inspired, and for my part, it was wonderful to bring a slice of fantasy, talking Blood Gift Chronicles, inspiration, and the craft of writing, as well as much-loved reads that inspire.

And on the theme of fantasy, and in particular the creatures that inhabit our fantasy worlds, I bring reviews of two wonderfully colourful reads.

In the Vanishers’ Palace

By Aliette de Bodard

‘In the Vanishers’ Palace’ is a dark retelling of Beauty and the Beast. It is set in a post-colonial dystopia where brutal rulers, the vanishers, wrought ruin and devastation on the land. The earth is poisoned with roaming nightmares and a deadly virus.

The story follows Yen, a woman betrayed and sold into the vanisher’s palace to pay her village’s debts, a spirited, magical and carvernous place where every door can lead to death. She is in servitude to the shape-shifting water dragon, Vu Con, a creature among the last of her kind. Vu Con is mystical, aloof and cold, but not what Yen imagined. Instead of torture and death at the hands of a dragon, Yen is expected to teach Vu Con’s two unruly children, Thong and Lien.

The story is beautifully written, with description of magic and place told with tantalising effect that draws you into what feels like a labyrinth world. Vu Con’s character is layered, unique and interesting, with an intriguing and magical appearance that left a vivid imprint in my mind. Her presence immediately challenges gender expectation. Femininity is described in both dragon and human form. As human she appears as a woman small in stature, but holding herself decisively, displaying authoritative power that is magical and dangerous. Her sexuality is explored in a merging of human and dragon form, in beautiful scenes of sapphic romance between Vu Con and Yen, exploring tenderness and the excitement of love. But again expectation is challenged, as Vu Con feels cheated that it was Yenn who came to the palace, good only for keeping Vu Con’s bed warm. Vu Con’s request had been for Yen’s mother, a wise older woman. These kind of contrasts keep the narrative sharp and the reader guessing in what is ultimately a dangerous attraction, with more twists and turns yet to come.

Binaries are challenged in a variety of ways. Motivations, intentions and actions that blend what might be deemed good and bad, are layered into complex and intriguing characters. There is diversity among the cast beyond the gender binary, with non-binary characters using they/them pronouns. And ultimately this is sapphic love between a dragon and a woman, impactful in its creation, beautiful in its descriptions that explore the intimate scenes. The author appears to deal effortlessly with what might seem impossible, shifting into dragon perspective with ease, bringing the landscape of the dragon’s mind into full view, in an entirely believable way.

An enjoyable, edgy, and beautiful tale very well told.

Fatholmfolk

By Eliza Chan

In the semi-submerged city of Tiankawi, fatholmfolk and humans live side by side. The city is revered as a perfect place, providing safe haven for those fleeing civil unrest, but beneath the veneer, revolution is brewing.

This is an ambitious and inventive story, told through characters who embody a number of fantastical creatures, including kelpies and selkies, water dragons and kappas. Narrative explores the experiences of a multi-cultural diaspora community, considering xenophobia and the way in which immigrants are defined by othering, exposing hard truths and layered complexities of individual experiences. Together with the fact that humans have polluted the oceans, forcing fatholmfolk to flee to the cities above water, a refugee crisis looms, and tension between species becomes increasingly strained.

The story is told from the perspective of main characters attempting to navigate a world that is set up against them. Mira is half-siren, the first fatholmfolk to reach the military, appointed captain of the border guard. Her partner, Kai, is a sea dragon. Cordelia is a half-octopus/half-human sea witch, who Mira has an account with. Mira has a personal interest in the welfare of fatholmfolk refugees, wanting to keep them safe in Tiankaiwan waters. Cordelia can arrange this, in return for Mira’s help with making logistical paperwork disappear, to help Cordelia’s small business to thrive. And Nami is Mira’s daughter, with a latent sea dragon side. The story begins with Nami heading out to retrieve an unhatched dragon egg that has been claimed by humans. She is an interesting character, revealing shades of grey and complexity, turning political activist, willing to cross lines in the law, while learning to own her prejudices and mistakes. Courageous to some, reckless to others, still her actions reveal startling truths about history, and the lies that followed to maintain the status quo, one that would treat fatholmfolk as livestock, while serving human kind.

I enjoyed the vibrancy and colour in this story. Worldbuilding felt to have been lovingly crafted with intriguing and insightful attention to detail, perhaps meandering between real-life reflections and the fantastical, with sea grass meadows and red pillar corals, algae-covered tables adorned with wild rice and sea grapes, vinegared fish, lotus root, cuttle fish stew, candied seaweed, taro crisps and fried water spinach. It felt like a cultural exchange, a transportive experience where I can hear the clatter of tea rooms, and the chatter of vendors in narrow canoes. For me the layered and textured tapestry of vibrancy and colour in the story was a real highlight, offering an immersive experience among an inventive cast, charged with some of the biggest social issues of our times. A highly enjoyable read.

What are you reading?

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 #26

If ever I needed a reminder of the heights of great worldbuilding, this collection, from one of our great SFF pioneers, Ursula Le Guin, offers a masterclass. Eight short stories and novellas bring us worlds near and far, those travelling between worlds, and shifting perspectives from outwards to inwards with thought-provoking poignancy.

The Birthday of the World; by Ursula Le Guin

To give you a sneak peek into the inner workings…

The Birthday of the World

The Birthday of the World is considered to be the time the sun stands over Mount Kanaghadwa, when people count themselves a year older, although the rituals and ceremonies are no longer remembered. In a society struggling with their concept of god, the narrator reflects on their own beliefs, rituals and ceremonies, layering a world where gods dance and die, and wild dragons fly. But with wars at the borders, lands have grown too large and the existence of God itself is threatened. The world must die so that God may live, and so the narrator is left pondering the identity of God itself.

Old Music and the Slave Women

Esdan, a chief intelligence officer, ends up on a clandestine mission during a civil war. Intercepted by government forces, he is imprisoned on a large slave estate, where his perspective becomes increasingly limited. In a brutal world, this is a story of survival, and hopeful endeavour in the coming revolution. Will the rebellion reach them? From humiliating violence, to muddy waters of human inequity in supposed liberation, to the failings of world construct to deliver utopia, it is in the bonds between slaves that kindness and comfort is found, and where the heart of the story lies.

Paradise Lost

On a multi-generational voyage to a potentially habitable planet, Liu Hsing and Nova Luis are members of the fifth generation born on the space ship. Many are excited by the idea of discovery, a planet to explore and send information back to the human species. But some people, especially the older generation, subscribe to the religion of Bliss – the state of a blissful journey, with no end. For them, Bliss is the only reason to stay alive. Liu and Nova are faced with followers of the religious cult who question if living on a planet is such a joy. There are also environmental themes, highlighting the challenge of making change, and the overall question of what is natural and what is not. An interesting read, fascinating in its construct, and thought-provoking in the themes of isolation, religion and utopia.

Solitude

Solitude is told by the narrator, as she reflects on her experiences growing up on Eleven-Soro. Her mother was an Observer, whose work involved settling among the native people of Eleven Soro, to learn about this complex alien world. Cultural differences between mother and daughter eventually drive them apart. Where the mother shuns the alien culture, the narrator adopts it as her own, wanting to grow her soul and experience what it means to be  a person of that culture. It is a theme reflective of generational confusion, complicated by outside influence. It is also an interesting use of perspective, approaching the culture of Eleven-Soro from a colonised mindset, yet entirely shifting perspective onto a young woman who becomes part of it. Cultural norms are highlighted, which require societies of modest population, driven by a desire for solitude and the social norm being introverts, perhaps essentially selecting for autism. In true style of Ursula Le Guin, subverted expectations are delivered with ease, which illuminate and surprise, in this creative and thought-provoking world.

The Matter of Seggri

Set in the dystopian society of Seggri, the story is written as a first contact report on the ship’s log of the Wandership. The captain describes a complex society which demonstrates gender as a social construct. Gender expectation is subverted and replaced with inventive roles. The impact of colonialism is also questioned, with consideration given to a society destabilised by outside contact. Previous colonial interference messed with chromosomes, which now results in there being sixteen women for every one man. In the present day, men have all the privilege and women have all the power. Given the opportunity, would men cling to their privileged status or demand freedom, and would women resist giving up their power? Would the sexual system break down?

Unchosen Love

In a world textured with colour, legend and mystery, a polygamous society is structured around family units called sedoretu. Hadri has been chosen to join one such family, after a man seeks out his affections. Homosexual and heterosexual coupling is commonplace, and various aspects of relationships are explored, including the more insidious coercive control.

‘Being unhappy in a room is worse than being unhappy outdoors.’

It is following one mysterious encounter that Hadri comes to realise his true feelings. It is a startling discovery, not least for himself, and brings with it a tantalising coming-of-age feel.

Mountain Ways

This story continues with the themes from Unchosen Love, with society structured around the same sedoretu units. Two women fall in love outside of convention, but over time they conform and strive to form a sedoretu. Through it we see the cost of compromise, the bitterness of conformity and restriction, a stark contrast to two previously independent souls. It was an intriguing and illuminating play on character, that also undoubtedly left a bitter taste. There was also an interesting interplay with the natural world, challenging the concept of ownership. I particularly enjoyed the portrayal of environmental equity.

Coming of Age in Karhide

Set on the fictional planet of Gethen, a place where adults have no fixed gender identity, the story follows Sov Thade Tage em Ereb, a teenager living in a large communal home in the Karhidish city of Rer. As Sov experiences biological changes, it is clear they are ready for kemmer, held in a communal Kemmerhouse for those sexually receptive. Any children conceived in the Kemmerhouse are raised in the communal home, the hearth. Sov and their friend, both ready for kemmer, express fears that being in kemmer is dehumanizing, being seen as a sex machine. And so Sov’s coming of age story is told, of changing bodies and sexuality that was utterly relatable, as well as a meaningful alternative look into gender identity in a place where, quite simply, love is love.

What are you reading?