Book reviews: Laila Lalami, Charlaine Harris, Joyce Chng, and many more

All the Water in the World by Eiren Caffall. 3/5

In an America where New York is flooding and coastal cities are lost by the day, a group tries to survive first in a museum of natural history, then out on the water, and finally when they find land again. While the writing can be lovely and brings up important points about survival and ethics in a disastrous situation, it didn’t move me, and felt a bit like a retread of all of the other dystopian novels that have been published in the last 20 or so years. Using the museum was a nice and interesting touch, but other aspects weren’t unique enough to keep me fully engaged.

Esperance by Adam Oyebanji. 3/5

The concept here–a human descended from ancestors saved by aliens and transported to another planet comes to Earth to stop one of her fellow such humans from killing all of the descendants of the man who condemned their ancestors to die–is interesting, even if it doesn’t always work well. At the center of the novel is the question as to whether the children should suffer for the sins of their forebears. The humans from another planet mostly say yes, while humans from Earth mostly say no. The tone zigzags from police procedural to buddy caper to technothriller to family drama, and while I enjoyed reading the mash-up of genres, the ease of which characters accepted some of the weirdness created by the human-aliens felt a little too easy, and the capabilities of the human-alien tech involved wasn’t always consistent.

The Dream Hotel by Laila Lalami. 5/5

The Dream Hotel is Lalami’s latest masterpiece. Like other outstanding dystopian fiction, it’s set in a world that is all too real, relying on all-too-possible technology and policies. Sara, an art historian, is stopped by security on her way home from a conference in London, and falsely imprisoned with other women in a jail that was once a school. Their crimes are uncommitted, but based on neurological implants, an algorithm designed to create enslaved labor flags them as potentially dangerous–based on their dreams. It’s a horrifying story, especially on the heels of announcements of Neuralink implants and unceasing, un critical media coverage of the second Trump inauguration. It’s a must-read, even for those who already know the dangers of what’s happening in the US and other nations. The characters are real and compelling, and the scenarios all too plausible. It’s a warning: we should heed it.

The Filling Station by Vanessa Miller. 1/5

Two sisters survive the Tulsa Race Massacre and deal with the aftermath. The characters are stereotypes, the plot is predictable, and the book is a proselytizing tract in novel form. Give it a miss.

I Leave It Up to You by Jinwoo Chong. 4/5

This is a lovely novel about figuring out who you are and what you want from life. Jack Jr awakens from a years-long coma and is forced to start anew. Working in the family business–which he eschewed years before–he begins to reconnect with family and his roots. He also learns that it takes time to recover from a long absence. There’s solid character development and I liked it that there wasn’t an uncomplicated HEA–these things are hard! Overall, it’s a sweet story. There are some areas of unevenness, but copyedit will smooth those out easily.

No More Tears by Gardiner Harris. 5/5

Read this and you will never want to buy from J&J again. With meticulous research and an abundance of sources, Harris lays out the case that Johnson and Johnson has never, ever, been a company worth trusting. Over time, its executives and salesforce knowingly put people in danger over and over again, not caring as long as they didn’t get caught. And when they did, they did everything possible to deny it, including false evidence and lying under oath. Harris is a clear and thorough reporter in documenting both OTC and rx medications and products that raised health risks, caused early deaths, actually made cancers grow more quickly and larger, helped spur the opioid crisis, and much more.

The Last Wizards’ Ball by Charlaine Harris. 5/5

Another excellent installment in Harris’s series starring Lizbeth Rose, gun for hire. This novel is set in the Holy Russian Empire–California–and takes place before and during a ball attended by magic-users from all over, many of whom use the ball as a marriage market. Lizbeth’s sister is a debutante, but the ball hasn’t even begun before someone starts trying to kill her. The story moves well and Lizbeth’s breakup with her husband (we all saw it coming, yes? it’s not a spoiler) is a big part of Lizbeth’s development. I hope this isn’t the end, as I like this setting and characters.

Speak EZ by Elle E. Ire. 5/5

Speak EZ is a sweet and lighthearted sapphic romance and mystery with an adorable dog, cute characters, and a lively pace. When Ciara and her friends at a theater company find a speakeasy hidden in the basement for more than 100 years, they’re intrigued, and soon it turns out that the stray pup Ciara has been seeing around is a ghost who belonged to the former owner, Mickey. As Ciara and her friends learn about Mickey’s murder, Ciara and Mickey find ways to communicate–and fall in love. But they’re up against a clock to figure out how to keep Mickey alive and in the present so they can be together. I loved the queer representation in different eras, and Ciara and Mickey’s characters are well done. The supporting cast is a bit light on character development, but they’re fine as they are. While there is murder–the author apologizes for killing the dog, but he comes back pretty quickly–the overall tone is fun.

Disco Witches of Fire Island by Blair Fell. 5/5

I want to make an opera–or maybe a musical–out of this wonderful, quirky, supremely queer, and beautiful book about found family, finding love, loving yourself, and witches. It’s 1989, and two young gay men head to Fire Island for summer jobs–and sex. Despite the AIDS crisis, men (and women) are still managing to find love–or at least like and lust–over the course of the summer. When Joe ends up boarding with a pair of disco witches, his life goes spinning like a mad teacup–and his friends’ lives are changed as well. I loved every moment of this novel: every meeting, every kiss, every ritual, every potion, every song, every person; that Fergal’s dad is a selkie; that Joe’s destiny might be to end AIDS. I cried, too, when Max, who has already made a shrine for himself with his friends, dies of AIDS; when Joe and his love finally, FINALLY get it together; for the real-world people I knew who died of AIDS. It’s just a great book, and the Disco Witch Manifestos at the beginning of each chapter are affirming and campy and fun. I can’t wait to give copies to friends!

Wolf’s Path by Joyce Chng. 5/5

Wolf’s Path is an excellent volume of short stories and poetry that range all over the spec fic world, from space to alien invaders to tiger demons and ghosts. The narrators are often everyday people grappling with the worlds around them, and the hitches and surprises that a live accumulates. In stories about transformation, Chng explores gender and sexuality, parenting, disability, and East Asian culture with vivid, compelling language. This is an excellent introduction of Chng’s work for new readers, and long-time readers will find it full of treats.

A Drop of Corruption by Robert Jackson Bennett. 5/5

I loved Bennett’s book The Tainted Cup, with its excellent characters and incredible world, so I was delighted to jump right into this. It lives up to the first book of the series, full of clever plotting and mysteries to be solved, and continues its welcome depiction of disabled characters. It’s a thriller, and the plot moves fast and furiously. Protagonist Din and his mentor Ana are asked to solve a locked-room mystery that quickly spreads and engulfs the local monarchy and government bureaucracy, dangerous harvests, and the stability of the Empire served by Ana and Din. We also get more info about the world, which I find fascinating, and about Ana and Din themselves. You’ll probably want to read the first book before this one.

An Encantadora’s Guide to Monstros and Magic by Sarah J. Mendonca. 4/5

This is a great Portuguese-influenced fantasy novel for young readers. The characters feel real and honest–no perfect heroes here–and grow over the course of the novel. The magic and its hierarchies are fun and original and create tensions that propel a non-stop plot involving becoming part of a top thieves’ gang, a way out of poverty and powerlessness for the heroes and their families. Rich in detail and full of twists, you may start off annoyed with the protagonist but will–as she becomes a better, more thoughtful, more compassionate person–come to cheer for her and her companions. My only complaint is that I find crude body humor off-putting, although I suppose it’s common for characters of this age and maturity.

The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. 5/5

As usual for Moreno-Garcia’s books, this is a gorgeous supernatural tale of horror and sacrifice, full of detail and lush settings and well-developed characters who grow through the course of the novel. Told in three time periods, and rife with red herrings, the story involves avaricious and truly deadly witches, and the women–a grandmother and grand-daughter–who learn to thwart them through spellcraft of their own. A college mostly abandoned for the summer, a similarly abandoned factory, a grand New England house, and a villa in a small town in Mexico provide excellent atmospheric settings, and the witchcraft is unique and wonderful. Folks into “dark academia” will eat this right up, and both previous fans of the author and newcomers to her work are in for a treat.

The Secret of Kells: The Graphic Novel by Tomm Moore; Nora Twomey. 5/5

A lovely book version of the film, made with stills from it for perusal in detail. I love the movie, so I enjoyed the book and savored the images. Also contains two short graphic novels included in the book with the DVD, one about the the abbot saving a baby Brendan from the Vikings, and another about what happened to Aislin’s people.

Aunt Tigress by Emily Yu-Xuan Qin. 5/5

Aunt Tigress is a fantastic, sly, clever, original, wonderful, heart-breaking book. Emily Yu-Xuan Qin brings together Chinese and First Nations beliefs and myths–as well as the Tam Lin story–to create something that is unique and memorable. Tam is a tiger, but she’s forsaken her tiger part, trying to just be a good human. But she isn’t, and she can’t be, and when her Aunt Tigress dies and leaves behind Tam’s undead familiar and a lot of enemies, Tam has to reckon with her true nature and how it affects her family, lover, and those around her. The journey is stellar and engrossing, and the denouement is something to revel in and roll around in like a cat in catnip. I love the mixing of myths as well as the superb queer representation and acknowledgements about being Other, and being more than one Other at the same time.

Looking at Women Looking at War by Victoria Amelina. 5/5

If you read anything about the war in Ukraine, it should be this book. Gathered together from materials written by Victoria Amelina before she was killed by Russia in its horrific war on Ukraine, it chronicles her own life as she shifted from author to war crimes investigator and reporter, and those of her colleagues and friends during the first year of the war. It is devastating and essential to read her accounts of Russian atrocities and Ukrainian resistance, of the actions ordinary people did to save others, of how NGOS operate in the country, of what the world is losing as Russia slaughters children, poets, farmers, writers, scientists, parents, journalists, and others. Read this book, and take action: support the Ukraine any way you can, through donations, through calls to your congresspeople, through activism and raising awareness. Slava Ukraini.

A Fine and Private Place by Peter S. Beagle. 5/5

A Fine and Private Place, written when Peter Beagle was just 19, is a masterpiece. I have long loved this book and its places and people, every one of them, and have entire scenes memorized. This new edition is unfortunately marred by the foreword by Neil Gaiman, who has creditable been accused of multiple assaults on many women. His words have no place here with Beagle’s, much less prefacing a novel about love and desire. If Saga Press does not remove the foreword, I urge readers very strongly to buy a copy from a different source–A Fine and Private Place has been published by various presses over the years, as well as in a collection called The Fantasy Worlds of Peter S. Beagle. The novel is a joy and a wonder, and should not be even remotely attached to Gaiman.

Blood on Her Tongue by Johanna van Veen. 5/5

This is the most original vampire novel I have read in a long time, and it is spectacular. I love it and want to teach it alongside Dracula and other gothic lit. van Veen is a fantastic storyteller, spinning webs and creating expectations that she then utterly turns upside down with complete aplomb and even glee. You think you know where this is going until you don’t, and that happens many delicious times in the novel. The entire set-up is gothic perfection: Lucy receives disturbing letters from her sister, and sets off to visit. Her sister Sarah has recently been involved in the autopsy of a bog body, and something else came up out of the ground with it. There’s a young relation, an old woman who employs Lucy as her companion, Sarah’s husband, with whom Lucy has had an affair, a well-meaning childhood friend-turned-doctor who wants to marry Lucy, and another entity, whose character grows and develops in surprising ways. Highly recommended.

Sex Lives of Superheroes by Diana Mccallum. 4/5

Entertaining, hilarious, and full of excellent explainers for why Mr. Fantastic’s near-infinitely stretched penis wouldn’t be much fun to have sex with, whether the Hulk can even have sex safely, and much much more.

The Staircase in the Woods by Chuck Wendig. 4/5

Years after one of their friends goes missing after climbing a staircase that rises into the air, a group of once-close (or were they? hmmm) friends reconvenes. Most of them have been hornswoggled by one, who has been searching for similar staircases ever long after the others have accepted their friend is gone. This time, they all climb up, and never a house full of horrors, some of them related to the protagonists, some of them not. Their own personal terrors and experiences fill the house as they try to find ways to keep the house from driving them mad, and to escape. While the concept of the house haunted by one’s own personal experiences and horrors isn’t new, it’s well done here, with a mix of various kinds of horrors–body horror, emotional and psychological trauma, physical abuse–and the characters are interesting and strong.

Night Swimming by Aaron Starmer. 4/5

As Sarah and Trevor embark on a mission to swim every pool in their town, they’re also trying to figure out their futures and desires. Their initially-private project becomes less secret when Trevor tells some of their other friends about it, and as a group they take to the night to swim. But one pool, hidden in the woods, is very different, existing in its own time and space. As the various members of the group try to figure out what’s going on and how to leave, emotions run high and relationships change in unpredictable ways. A solid SFFH novel with elements of philosophy.

My Documents by Kevin Nguyen. 5/5

When Vietnamese men engage in terrorism within the US, Vietnamese Americans are interred in camps, just like the Japanese in WWII. We follow four twenty-something siblings–and their dad, who has been conditioned to escape his whole life–who are sent to camp, spared, given special treatment, make their careers, and horrifically abused during the interment period. The characters are superb, the plotting is stunning, the writing feels real and true and honest. It’s a tour de force about identity and segregation and privilege, and set in an all-too-possible America. I want every high school student to read this right now. I want everyone to read this right now. What–who–will stop an American government from doing something like this whenever it wants?

Cleavage by Jennifer Finney Boylan. 3/5

This isn’t quite a book, yet. It’s a lot of essays by Boylan reworked into kind of a book shape, but it needs more work to become a book. it’s unfortunately really disjointed because of the origins of many of the chapters, and there’s a good bit of repeated material, as well as stories that are begun and never resolved. Maybe that’s deliberate. I don’t know. What I do know is that while Boylan is always fine to read and while this is enjoyable enough, it doesn’t feel particularly meaningful or deep. It’s still half-baked, as well as not fully arranged. It feels like she’s resting on her laurels. I’m not going to say don’t read it, because there is some good writing, and good insight in it, but get it from the library.

Once a Castle by Sarah Arthur. 1/5

This sequel to Once a Queen really requires readers to have read and remember that book in order to make much sense of this one. And while the first was a little twee, this one leans much more heavily on the cutesy-names-and-wide-eyed-innocents tropes of the more treacly fairytales. I was far less impressed with Once a Castle than Once a Queen, and really had to force myself to finish it.

The Paper Menagerie and Other Stories by Ken Liu. 5/5

An excellent collection Liu’s short work, smart and original and already widely honored and praised elsewhere. I’d encountered some of these stories in their original publications, but some were new to me and were just as much a treat to read. Highly recommend.

The Manor of Dreams by Christina Li. 5/5

This is a nice, solid gothic horror + queer romance. Lives echo lives, and a grand mansion built on the blood and suffering of many. There are mystery elements, secrets of all kinds, some truly horrifying ghosts, and a nice little twist at the end. On a larger scale, the novel grapples with anti-Asian racism, domestic violence, and the Hollywood entertainment machine. The characters are well-developed and grew through the book, and Li’s writing is so evocative and detailed that I could easily envision all of the house and its terrifying garden.

Fundamentally by Nussaibah Younis. 5/5

I really enjoyed this novel about a woman who, when faced with the complexities of the world, undergoes serious reconsideration of who she is and what she believes in. Nadia, a brash criminologist, gets involved in a UN plan to rehabilitate ISIS brides, and finds herself advocating for one woman in particular who–in a slightly different timeline–Nadia thinks could easily have been her. But people are complicated, and the UN people Nadia works with are a mixture of corrupt, uncaring, overworked, and burnt out, and her protege isn’t as much like Nadia as she thinks. Younis does a fabulous job of world-building and character development, and I appreciate the excellent bi/pan representation in a person of color. This is a great choice for book clubs and discussion groups.

The Scientist and the Serial Killer by Lise Olsen. 1/5

This is so poorly organized and written that it does a disservice to the victims, the young men known as the Houston Lost Boys, and their families. Olsen’s writing is full of implicit bias (a woman is described as “determined yet charming” as if someone cannot be both (and why is it necessary to describe her as “charming” in the first place?) and then in the same sentence her accent is described as “charming;” another woman doesn’t go to college but “somehow” becomes a teacher, suggesting incredulity that such a thing could happen and that such a person would be qualified to teach; and countless other examples. She goes off on unrelated or barely-related tangents (the Peter Pan theory, which fizzles out and which she abandons within a handful of paragraphs), makes unnecessary and judgmental asides, and focuses on superficial and irrelevant aspects of individuals’ appearances, belongings, homes, and occupations. She makes unsubstantiated assumptions and claims about what people’s beliefs and attitudes. This ms needs heavy, guided revision and may benefit from a co-author.

The World She Edited by Amy Reading. 2/5

I really hoped for more from this book. It drags and is often dull; it is repetitive and ableist; and it’s less about Katharine White and her work than it is about the author being unable to let go of unnecessary quotes that she somehow feels are important but which really aren’t relevant. Reading offers little depth in her presentation of White’s life, and while she does at times try to take on issues like how working women handled parenting, for example, the writing tends to be a little superficial, offering anecdotes rather than analysis. I was hoping for a biography of White that really dug into her editing practices, discussing her influences and style, but instead we get not much more than statistics about what authors she accepted, and how often she accepted their work, and how she didn’t accept. There’s a missed opportunity in Reading’s take on White and Langston Hughes: we’ve already learned that the New Yorker was racist in almost all of its practices; here, Reading could have provided a much deeper reading of who was reading Hughes and publishing him, and what pieces, and why, and why White and the New Yorker couldn’t see his importance and potential, and how White dealt with race in other ways–there’s so much here that could have been really illuminating about White and the New Yorker and her peers there and the publishing world as a whole, but I’ll have to find that somewhere else. While Reading has said in an interview about the book that “the author-editor relationship, which is rarely studied, can be quite crucial to literary culture,” but she doesn’t really write about that; she writes about how White was a friend to her writers, and we learn how she helped them through divorces and gave them advances, but there’s so little of the “here’s how the first draft was, and here’s what White changed, and why, and here’s how the author responded” that the editor-author relationship is almost entirely lost. Also: could an editor please get Reading to stop using words like “crippled” and “bedridden”, please? It’s ableist as fuck.

A Dangerous Idea by Debbie Levy. 5/5

A solid account of the Scopes trial for young or new readers, A Dangerous Idea presents the importance of the case in straightforward language, discussing the context in which Scopes volunteered to be a test case for the ACLU, how Brady and Darrow prepared and executed their roles in the trial, and what the influence of the case has been on American education and free speech. Readers familiar with the play and/or movie Inherit the Wind will find the facts of the trial fascinating (and, as I was, be impressed by the how much the film’s actors looked like and were able to mimic the real-life men they portrayed). Author Levy carefully explains the rise of fundamentalist Christianity as well as Darwin’s views and beliefs, and makes it clear that she’s on the side of science. My only complaint is Levy’s use of people’s first names–Darrow and Brady are “Clarence” and “Will” while the judge retains his title and last name. It isn’t necessary, and is the only thing in the book that smacks of condescension to its audience. Can Dolly Parton give this one to every 5th grader in the nation, please?

Black Panther Woman by Mary Frances Phillips. 4/5

This is an important biography of one of the Black Panther Party’s women leaders, Ericka Huggins. Author Phillips has captured Huggins’s methods of resistance, action, and prison care as only someone who has spent considerable time with their subject can. While the narrative is sometimes short on analysis and cultural context, I can forgive this because it is, after all, meant to inspire and help general readers learn about Huggins and the concept of self-care and community care in the BPP. Phillips chronicles Huggins’s development and life as a young activist, parent, widow, writer, and political prisoner. Phillips writes candidly about Huggins’s sexuality, her spirituality, and what she accomplished for the BPP and Black women in general. A perfect choice for a book club or reading group, and an essential text for understanding the BPP and race and politics in the US.

Red in Tooth and Claw by Lish McBride. 5/5

This is a terrific Western/dystopia/werewolf book! A young woman, living in a fraught world where power is concentrated in men, is sent to a brutal outpost where colonizers and religious despots have created a system of exploitation and abuse. Posing as a man for her own safety, Faolan uncovers the truths of the place, including the creatures that attack it. There’s a lot of ingenuity on her part, and courage, and persistence, as well as some romance and friends. The world-building is excellent and the novel is well-paced. I know this is one I’ll be re-reading.

Devouring Tomorrow ed. by Jeff Dupuis; A.G. Pasquella. 2/5

This is a mixed bag of short stories by Canadian writers on the effects of climate change on food and eating. Some are told with a fairy-tale like wonder, like a story about a fig tree and its progeny, while others are slice-of-life–I liked one in which a scavenger finds a book, which, being incredibly rare, earns her enough water–used as a commodity–to buy better food for herself and her son. Some are funny–there’s a great eat-the-rich parody in which the only ethical meat is determined to be human mean, because humans can consent, and so celebrities offer meat cloned from their bodies–while others are expectedly grim. There’s not a whole lot of originality, though; there are too many retreads of topics that have been used to death. Usually anthologies like these lead me to read more by the writers who are included, and there may be one or two here I’ll track down for more, but overall the collection is a bit under the bar for me to endorse it with much enthusiasm.

And the Sky Bled by S. Hati. 1/5

This might win the award for most boring and derivative read of the year. Fantasy cli-fi with impetuous and unpleasant characters who never seem to learn or grow, and remain flat throughout, this book tries to be complex and full of intrigue, but in the end failed to interest me in any of the things going on. It feels a lot like an attempt to cash in on the success of other works, better works in the genre: Jemisin’s Broken Earth series; Okorafor’s Who Fears Death and its new prequel; and others.

Embers of the Hands by Eleanor Barraclough. 5/5

I loved this excellent history of early Nordic peoples told through materials. Barraclough does a terrific job of presenting information in ways that will captivate general readers, providing facts, insight, and carefully considered speculation about the so-called Vikings’ languages, travels, joys, sorrows, grooming habits, possessions, sex lives, raiding practices, and much much more. She carries readers across seas and into graves, painting detailed, intimate portraits of everyone of the age from bored children and exhausted farmers to board game enthusiasts and enslaved people. Highly recommended.

The Children of Jocasta by Natalie Haynes. 2/5

You probably know the story of Oedipus already: Jocasta has a baby boy. A prophesy says a son will kill his father, so the baby is sent to die on a hillside. A peasant finds the boy and raises him. The boy grows up, goes adventuring, unknowingly kills his bio-dad and marries his bio-mom. They have kids. This novel tells the story of Jocasta and those kids, and what happens to them after their parents learn who they are in relation to one another. It’s ok. I wasn’t blown away by any particularly original imagining of the people, and there are a number of draggy places that could be tightened up. I never really felt invested in the characters–they weren’t very developed or deep.

The Otherwhere Post by Emily J. Taylor. 4/5

I enjoyed this fantasy/romance about a young woman seeking the truth about her father’s death. The world-building is solid: the magic is original and unusual, the characters are pretty well-developed and diverse, the romance works well, and the pace is great. I’d have liked maybe a little more depth to some of the characters (there’s the plucky, orphaned heroine, her extrovert, social butterfly roommate, the brooding and injured mentor/love interest, the heiress who helps with material needs…you get the idea….) but overall this is a fun and engrossing read.

Back After This by Linda Holmes. 3/5

I enjoyed Holmes’s previous book, Evvie Drake Starts Over, and I like this one too, although it’s a little too predictable and formulaic. A podcast producer–and I did love learning about podcast production!–agrees to take part in a podcast in which she’ll go on 20 dates and get advice from a “romance influencer”-type figure. But before those dates get underway, she has a meet-cute with a charming guy and a charming dog. So we know what’s gonna happen: most of the dates will be duds, and either she’ll have to choose between a date and meet-cute-dog-guy, or all of the dates will be duds and she’ll end up with meet-cute-dog-guy. Spoiler: it’s the second. But along the way there are some unfortunately cliched events: misunderstandings, omission of crucial info, et al. Even knowing the ending that’s coming, it’s still a pleasant read; the main characters are interesting and pretty well-developed and the podcast and influencer worlds are interesting to learn about.