This
was such a surprising collection of darkly hopeful stories.
As with any
anthology, some land more than others, but the ones that did land did so much
like a crater impacting Earth. Stufflebeam has the ability to draw not just on
shared experience but deeply buried collective guilt.
It is impossible not to
connect with the characters, even when they’re possessed houses or engineers
tearing out the insides of still-living sex dolls. How do you drive empathy for
these characters? How can the serial killing of androids be compelling? Stufflebeam
slithers into our subconscious, drags up our long-buried guilt, and weaves it
into almost bizarre caricatures of the human experience that resonate.
I didn’t sleep well for several days after reading this book, which speaks well
to the gentle horror genre as a whole.
Bones of extinct species wander a campground, stalking a group of friends in love with the same woman. The object of their affection seeks solace with a couple in a world with rain that kills. In a world where men are almost extinct, a daughter struggles to connect with her father during a camping trip amid skeletal mammoths. Returning to her repressed hometown, a woman transforms into a man-eating monster when she returns. An engineer who constructs hearts for artificial people finds herself drawn to the most damaged models lurking in the subways. Her successor, a robot assassin, avenges women…
This
was a surprising find for me. I’m not generally a YA reader, and I’d argue this
isn’t exactly a YA book. It’s a new take on part of Odysseus lore, told by one
of the twelve maidens sacrificed to the sea.
It’s beautifully queer, with the
main character interested in both the prince and another former sacrifice. It
has gods, curses, political intrigue, and blends Greek lore with modern speech
patterns (I’m guessing this is why it’s in YA). It’s strangely accessible and
imminently enjoyable.
I love a good ‘let’s find hidden stuff in a castle’
adventure, and this filled those shoes as well. As a hidden bonus, one of the
romantic scenes had a very realistic depiction of what nudity on a beach
entails. That alone is worth the price of admission.
A fantasy romance, by dazzling new talent Sarah Underwood, inspired by Greek mythology and the tale of Penelope's twelve hanged maids.
'A lavish epic of power, vengeance, love and fate.' YA Book of the Month in The Observer (2/4/2023)
'A lovely, lyrical fantasy which takes the fate of the hanged maids of the Odyssey and weaves something brand new. A story overflowing with emotion and full of magic.' Jennifer Saint, bestselling author of Ariadne and Elektra
In the cursed kingdom of Ithaca, each spring brings the hanging of twelve maidens, a gift to the vengeful Poseidon. But when Leto awakens…
What
a great overall take on the mafia-and-waif trope.
Quirk is gentleman for hire,
more or less, who ends up on the wrong side of the mob. Moth is a foul-mouthed,
recently orphaned former-convent girl who needs a guardian. The two end up
stuck together, hunting down a killer android on the moon.
I
mean, if that didn’t check off your list of everything you want in a book, I
don’t know what will. There are gun fights, weird technology, fancy Merino suits,
a bi-curious protagonist, cursing, and surprising emotional investment. The
next book in the series apparently also has dinosaurs, dinosaurs!
Quirk had one job to do, deliver papers to a Milan mafia boss, before leaving Earth for his home in the asteroids. But that was before being tailed, poisoned—oh, yes—and hijacked into raising foulmouthed fourteen-year-old convent girl Angelika Moratti, aka Moth, who'd rather see him asphyxiate in space.
Fleeing assassins, Quirk, Moth and her syRen® android S-0778 ride the space elevator to the Moon, where Quirk hires on to hunt an ex-terra-former who somehow used an android to murder his doctor. But which android of the two hundred under Lunaville’s dome? The…
Nobody leaves Queen. On the tidally locked, women-only planet, a vulva and an authority problem are the only immigration requirements. Emigration is banned.
Ember spends her days cruising Queen’s endless sand dunes, hunting sand pirates, and wallowing in memories of her dead wife. After an ambush, Ember is dragged to the pirate camp and learns her wife’s biggest secret—before her death, she’d joined the pirates, built an illegal spaceship, and plotted to leave the planet.
Ember’s sister, Nadia, hatches a desperate rescue that leads her to the very edge of the habitable zone. There, Nadia stumbles across other secrets...
My kid loves the book for the creepy vibe with a classic hero’s journey.
There’s necromancy, both good and bad, big scary monsters, magical bells, and a lonely girl who no one understands and who finds the strength within herself to be extraordinary.
There’s a lot of cheering when monsters are defeated, and my kiddo really connected with Lirael’s pet dog that she uses magic to bring to life to be her friend and confidant. From one lonely, different kid to another, Lirael really resonates.
I like the book because while Lirael is fairly autism coded, it deals with other adolescent feelings like depression and anxiety. Having those elements woven with the fantastical lets me talk about them with my kid without pressure, and of course, battling big monsters is always a bonus.
Sequel to the spellbinding, award-winning fantasy adventure, SABRIEL. Lirael has never felt like a true daughter of the Clayr. Abandoned by her mother and ignorant of her father's identity, Lirael resembles no one else in her large, extended family living in the Clayr's Glacier. She doesn't even have the Sight - the ability to See into the present and possible futures - that is the very birthright of the Clayr. Nonetheless, it is Lirael in whose hands the fate of the Old Kingdom lies. She must undertake a desperate mission under the growing shadow of an ancient evil - one…
