Book reviews: 5/5 for breastfeeding vampires, a grandmother’s secret, a hellish heist, and a place of power

The Hill in the Dark Grove by Liam Higginson. 5/5
This is a beautiful and gorgeous and dark and terrifying book and you should go order it immediately, and then get Sarah Hall’s new book Helm and then go camping in a dark forest somewhere in Britain and read them both together. By way of explaining all that, let me preface this by saying that I am an archaeology nerd, and if you have read any of my poetry collections, you’ll have seen how I work the dark fantastic and archaeology into my writing. So this book, in which two stories–one of a mound, and one of a man and a woman and a farm–move away from one another but remain always centered on a place and its artifacts and worshipers–is utter catnip to me. What happens when a place has power? What happens when you feed the power, or starve it? What can that power make you do, or resist doing? And whose head is it, anyway, in that mound, and why is it there? And what came before, and what will come next? (Well, if you’re smart, you’ll go order this book and read it.

The Memory of Borrowed Books by Meg Anderson. 1/5
This is not cozy or heartwarming. It is not full of hope and love. It is full of barely one-dimensional characters and is one of the most boring things I have read in forever. It is dull, unimaginative, full of cliches, plodding, lacks all originality, is full of stereotypes, and put me to sleep and had me flicking through pages in search of anything–ANYTHING–interesting or cute or smart or new. But I read every page, dear reader, so you don’t have to read any of them. You’re welcome.
In the Woods They Wait by Carrie Lee South. 4/5

Ready for this summer’s giant monster movie, I mean, book? This is the one. Content warning for claustrophobia! Mysterious disappearances, unmapped caves, and park rangers with guilty consciences add up to a fun monster horror novel. Yes, some of your favorite characters will die. Yes, there are thrilling heroics. Yes, there are non-humans who die. Yes, there is closure–of a sort. I can’t say much without spoiling anything. Just go read it and have fun.

Hell to Pay by Lora Beth Johnson. 5/5
This is a super-fun heist novel with super-powered teenage protagonists who have seen more of life and death tan most adults ever will. Elle and her gang are smart, observant, resilient, and loyal, and each one of them gets a chance to shine in this non-stop adventure in which they’re hired to bring a soul back to the world of the living from a very difficult-to-escape Afterlife. The wold-building is solid and detailed, there’s plenty of context for everything and everyone, and the characters are likeable. It’s a clever book and a quick read, perfect for a hot summer weekend.

Foreigners by E. L. Shen. 5/5
Dawn’s grandmother has a secret, and it’s a really big one. It’s bigger, in fact, than what many jaded readers (such as myself) would predict from the book’s set-up and first half. I really enjoyed reading this novel about multiple generations of Chinese-American women and appreciated the author’s canniness in slowly unveiling that secret–and others–over the course of the story. The protagonists are excellently written and developed, and develop over the course of the novel, and Dawn’s vapid, uninterested parents will ring true for many Gen X and Y readers, of whom many raised themselves. Foreigners is especially prescient right now in dealing with illegal immigrants, legal but harassed immigrants, and the privileges of wealthy, oblivious US citizens. It’ll be a hit with book groups, and would make for a terrific grandparent-grandchild read.

Milkteeth by Caitlin Starling. 5/5
CW: Loads of gore, Loads of it! Loads of blood! OK, on to the review proper: As the author herself writes, the what if? of this book is “What If: breastfeeding vampires?” It’s a great what-if. A thousand questions emerge, and of those, Starling makes a vampire culture and vampire characters unlike others, developing multiple character arcs and connections, creating a world in which mothers and monsters are one and the same, in which power-brokers of the immortal variety must meet their fates and the fates of those they have chosen to change or elevate or abuse, and in which doctors skate dangerously close to things they must disavow. Pair this with Keith Rosson’s Coffin Moon, another very original recent vampire novel that explores vampires who didn’t ask to be turned, and you have an excellent weekend of reading. For people who have breastfed human infants, you will especially appreciate the “hold the baby like a football/sandwich” advice from the opening scene’s lactation nurse.

Push the Wall by Frank Miller. 3/5
Frank Miller’s new memoir/craft book has some major problems. The craft parts and advice are excellent for anyone working in storytelling of any kind–but those come from Miller’s mentors, not himself. The memoir part is less useful. Miller glosses over many major events and conditions of his life that have clearly affected his work. He briefly mentions his alcoholism, and glosses over and provides a sad apologia for Holy Terror, his 9/11-inspired propagandistic book about a white “superhero” killing Muslims, saying only he wishes now he hadn’t written it. Miller briefly mentions a few women–lovers, friends, co-workers–but mostly he throws in casual mentions of “beautiful women” as if they’re nothing by eye candy. It’s hard to take seriously his commentary on creating Elektra as a strong, independent, deep character when all other women just there to be looked at. In LA, he references the women and cars as if they’re equal objects to be drawn and desired, but not valued or regarded with respect. All of this said, it is interesting to read about his work and creative process, how he developed his style and what influences he credits in his work. If only he’d been so introspective and analytical about the other things that have made him who he is, he’d have a really good book.

Fishbone Cinderella by Elizabeth Lim. 2/5
A Chinese-American Cinderella indeed, in which a young woman, abused by her family, draws on her magic to escape to a new life, albeit one not necessarily much happier than the one she fled from. The worlds in which the two primary protagonists live are richly created and developed–more so than many of the characters–and the contrasts between cultures are well-written. The magical realism doesn’t feel terribly secure, however–it’s as if Lim is trying it for the first time and is unsure as to how to weave it in convincingly, which I know isn’t the case. Because it’s a major plot point, this weakens the book as a whole; it really could use one more thorough edit to make it stronger and to make the magical realist aspects integral in ways that help the reader position that magic in the world of the story.

LYNX, Vol. 1 by Story by Samuel Sattin, Art by tokitokoro. 3/5
LYNX is fine techno-noir. I didn’t love it and didn’t hate it: the art is good, the characters are a little inconsistent, and the plot feels familiar. It feels a lot like My Hero Academia in that people have or can get special powers, which they must then learn to control. If you want something gritty with a bit of mystery featuring a cop protagonist, a talking cat (in the vein of Lying Cat in terms of tone), and a kid, give it a try. It didn’t grab me enough to come back for more. I will say that the watermark for the eARC was so terrible I couldn’t parse some of the art.

Women of the Weird West by KC Grifant. 2/5
I often write reviews of NetGalley books where I say that the book isn’t quite ready for prime time; this book is not even ready for NetGalley. I’ve never been quite so repeatedly assaulted by so many and such egregious grammar and punctuation errors, inconsistencies in the spelling of names and spellings that are just wrong, and repeatedly so, and authors/editors who use pronouns so frequently that the reader cannot always follow to whom said pronouns are referring. There are some short pieces that feel entirely like the writer realized they had something due and only had 5 minutes to write and submit, and other pieces that need a very strong editorial hand in cutting asides and other content that is not, perhaps to the author’s surprise, cute or funny or endearing or important for the story Some of the stories could be pretty good, but they still need a lot of work, and some are just plain bad. 3/5 stars for the ideas; 1/5 stars for sending it out to readers in this state.

Possession Island by Sarah McCarry. 3/5
This is a fine little whodunnit/whodunwhat involving four young people, various permutations of love-triangles and rectangles gone wrong and then right and then wrong again, small town caricatures of cops, and useless/absent parents. It was fine: decent plotting, ok pace, ok characters and character development, but nothing really spectacular.

Dead but Dreaming of Electric Sheep by Paul Tremblay. 3/5
This is okay but not really for me. A gamer is hired to pilot what her mother’s tech company thinks is a no-longer sentient body across the US, but of course Things Ensue. It’s like reading a kind of slow version of what might have led up to the creation of Ann Leckie’s ancillaries, with bodies being slaved to technology that runs their minds and bodies. The idea is fine and I’m sure plenty of folks at the DoD or whatever it’s calling itself now would love to have corpse soldiers, but the book is repetitive and suffers from it.


A Trade of Blood by Robert Jackson Bennett. 3/5
I really enjoyed the first two Ana and Din books from Bennett, but this latest one is a little less enjoyable. Perhaps it’s because Ana’s character is less present–or at least it feels that way–and because she is less interesting and offers less insight than in the first two books. Mostly she swears at people and grins here; the flashes that made her interesting before are now just kind of annoying tics with little payoff at the end. She could have stayed at home this time, or in a box, as is her wont. The story itself is fine; I realize that fungus used for malevolent purposes is a decades-old trope, but with this novel coming on the heels of Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Mexican Gothic AND T. Kingfisher’s What Moves the Dead, it feels a little tired. However, the atmosphere, dead gods, ancient secrets, and uncanny forest are excellent, even if other things (Din’s always ill-fated/short-lived romances/sexual relationships) are starting to get predictable in the series.

Farewell to Yaddo

I’ve had an extraordinary four weeks in residence at Yaddo and leave tomorrow morning. I go home with new friends, a new and complete libretto, a new partial libretto, several poems for my next collection, and many, many ideas. I also go home with new knowledge and practices and new ways of thinking.

Rain on Lake Spencer, Yaddo. Rain falls into a small lake bordered by trees.
Fiddlehead ferns, trees, and the stone icehouse, Yaddo.

Winter Goddess, Give Me Your Hands

My choral work with composer Clifford King, “Winter Goddess, Give Me Your Hands,” will be premiered on May 29th at the Eccles Conference Center in Ogden by the Next Ensemble. If you’re in the Salt Lake City area, tickets are available here. Inspired by climate change and Eastern European mythology, the finished piece is for semi-chorus, SATB, and piano. King’s ensemble, the Rocky Mountain Chamber Choir – Virtual Singers, has recorded the piece and it will be available soon. In the meanwhile, here are the lyrics:


Morana, Mara, Marzanna,
winter goddess, give me your hands.

Where have you gone, Mother Winter?
You who freeze the aching bulbs
so they arise in the spring,
you who chill the woods and fields,
so bears sleep and the white foxes hunt.

We have found you wandering,
in places foreign to your chill.
We find you on the griddle plains,
and devouring tropic mangoes.

We have hurt you, Mother Winter,
and we are sorry and atone.
We repent and we commit
to repair this world that is our home.

Where have you gone, Winter Queen?
You who keep the sea-ice in place
for the seals and hares,
you who make old dogs pups again,
give us joy and beauty.

We have made your life much shorter,
driven you from your ancestral homes.
We have caused you to wither
in the heat we’ve made.

We have hurt you, Mother Winter,
and we are sorry and atone.
We repent and we commit
to repair this world that is our home.