9 books like Signal Airship

Another 90’s throwback, The Witches of Eileanan is the first in a six-book series featuring a slew of warrior women. Our heroine, Isabeau, is a young witch who has spent most of her life in seclusion—honing her skills while trying to remain hidden in a world where witchcraft is outlawed. Shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Isabeau is forced to abandon the safety of her home and embark on a quest to save her kingdom from dark forces. She meets many fellow warrior women along the way, all of whom are rendered in glorious, unabashed badassness that was truly revolutionary in its day. While this series is undeniably a trailblazer in the realm of heroine-centric fantasy, and certainly an excellent read for anyone on the hunt for fierce warrior women, I do want to warn potential readers that there are a few instances where female characters suffer sexual abuse. The casualness… show more.

There are actually two undeniably kickass women in this book: one is the perfect hybrid of humanity and technology created to pilot gargantuan killing machines, while the other is a foul-mouthed outlaw who routinely climbs inside these machines and blows them the heck up. You can imagine the chaos that ensues when these women finally join forces and set their sights on destroying the oppressive supercity of Godolia—along with its vast army of terrifying mecha gods. I was delighted by this book for a number of reasons, not the least of which being its many bloody battle scenes and its cast of endearing characters. The tenuous relationship between Sona the Pilot and Eris the Gearbreaker kept me on edge until the very end. This is an impressive debut novel from a talented young writer, and I am looking forward to the next installment.  

This book is unhinged in the best way. I love Gideon’s unique voice. Around her is a deadly-serious necromancer murder mystery with interplanetary stakes, and she cares more about cracking dirty jokes and finally eating some warm food. Her relationship with her arch-nemesis/only friend Harrow leaps off the page.

I love the scene where they get into a pool so Harrow can finally confess to Gideon her darkest secret—so hot and so disturbing all at the same time. While this book isn’t technically a romance and the genre feels more like a horror fantasy set in space, I couldn’t resist putting it on the list. As Gideon says to Harrow, “One flesh, one end, bitch.”

Three worlds in one book! There’s the not-so-important world of the Ancelstierre, roughly Edwardian or early-20th-Century-ish, and there’s the Old Kingdom, basically medieval, where Charter Magic wars with Free Magic (and how well Nix thinks through the workings of his forms of magic).

But the third world is the one that takes the cake! An underworld of the dead, with its different levels, gates, and sills. Sabriel discovers her own special inheritance and powers—OK, that’s standard fantasy fare, except that Sabriel’s powers are those of an abhorsen. It’s the Abhorsen’s role to make sure that the dead stay dead, and journey on down into the deeper levels of death. Of course, the dead who keep coming back are the ones who drive the narrative!

For someone who’s read every book in the Hornblower and Aubrey-Maturin series, it’s hard to find an age-of-sail book that has anything truly new to add.

Or so I thought until I picked up this book. It asks the question, what if Jack Aubrey could have sailed a wooden frigate to a Barsoomian version of Mars? The obvious answer, of course (and the one in this book) is that Britain would have extracted every plank of Marswood, ounce of Marsspice, and bag of Marstatoes it could get its imperialistic little hands on.

That’s Arabella’s world, where cannons boom in the interplanetary air currents, and spaceships are driven by sail power. As a fan of both sea stories and space operas, I’m there for it.

AI has been coming for my day job for a while now, so I was honestly conflicted when I heard that the talented Megan E. O'Keefe wrote a book about a rogue machine intelligence controlling a deserted spaceship. However, the first few chapters of this spooky, thoughtful, riveting novel made me think again. After finishing… well, I don’t want to spoil it, but let’s just say the themes rang very, very true to someone on the sharp end of the AI revolution.

Storytelling like this embodies the best of science fiction: using a futuristic setting to explore the issues most relevant to the present. That’s why I’m a science fiction fan, and it’s why I adore this book.

Frankly, I want to be friends with Captain Desiree Quicho. And not just her. I want to be friends with the entire crew of the Aerie, along with their assorted bunch of allies, acquaintances, and hangers-on. These include a street-smart psychic with great hair and an even better ass, a NASA engineer, Saharan troglodyte elves, Atlanteans, Bigfoot, a Hellbilly, and a Giant Pacific Octopus named Bobo the Mag.

This book's unique, omniscient-whacky prose style makes you feel like you’re swimming through every character’s mind, not just reading but experiencing their fears, thoughts, and dreams. This is all to say that reading this book really does make me feel like these characters are my friends—and sisters; it feels good. Except for Bigfoot. That guy’s an asshole.

Reading the first couple of chapters of this book is like being thrown into the deep end of a pool and asked not just to swim but to do some calculus homework while you’re at it. The setting just doesn’t seem to make any sense, physically or morally. But I kept treading water until this book had a grip on me that wouldn’t let go. By the time the concept of “Calendrical Heresy” came up, I couldn’t put it down.

In this book, spaceships (and their horrifying, inhumane weapons) run on forces that depend on the calendar. Change the calendar and you change the rules of reality itself. This unique bit of worldbuilding lays the foundations for a gritty, unwavering exploration of personal identity under the heels of oppression, and holy crap, is it a wild, profound journey.

Lady astronauts are all the rage these days, but what would it have taken to get women into spaceships in the notably more misogynist 1950s? According to this book, it would take the threat of a world-destroying cataclysm—which sounds about right.

This book doesn’t stop at sexism, though. It tackles a variety of -isms, and doesn’t hold back in showing how absurd it would be to hold onto them as the world burns. Some critics have even suggested that there are too many types of bigotry on display here, to which I would reply, “Dude, wait ‘till you hear about real life.”

Ignore all the yucky, uncomfortable stuff if it pleases you, though, and this will still be a fascinating look at mid-century America, but with ladies in space.