Books like The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe

This is less a romance novel and more a high fantasy novel with romantic elements, but the romance subplot is exceedingly strong.

(I can highly recommend a mental fan-casting of either Arhys or Ilvin as Pedro Pascal, because he’d absolutely knock one of those roles out of the park if this was ever made into a miniseries).

Ista is over 40, a queen, a new grandmother, a recovered madwoman, and…wait for it…a living saint. Seeking to get away from the suffocating (yet loving) arms of her family, she goes on a pilgrimage (Road Trip!) with a group of younger people and ends up getting into multiple adventures and a more than near miss with outright war. It’s an absolute romp and one of my all-time favorites.

General Turyin Mulaghesh is on the brink of retiring to her long dreamt of remote island post where she can lay around on a beach, getting happily drunk with a beautiful young man or two and do as little as possible.

But she’s a legendary hero of the Saypuri Republic, or perhaps a war criminal, depending on which side of the many battles that she’s fought you were on. So instead, she gets pushed into one last mission, one that has her confronting the deeds of her past and, possibly, getting a shot at redemption.

She is cynical and sweary and has done terrible things, as well as good ones and, at least for me, is one of the most relatable older women in fantasy. 

Larque is an unusual and sympathetic protagonist. She’s a wife, mother, and moderately successful businesswoman, but thinks of herself as a failed artist.

She also has the ability to create doppelgangers, temporary doubles of the people in her life. But this time, they’re a lot less temporary. Sky is her ten-year-old self, rebellious and contemptuous of the choices her adult self has made, and Lark is a young gay man dealing with life in the early 1990s.

And Larque is both of them, as well as herself and the menacing Virtuous Woman who lurks in the background, waiting for her chance to take over Larque’s life. It makes for a wild midlife crisis in which Larque has to decide who she wants to be and what she wants for her creations.

I instantly dug the vibe of this book. Pacific Ocean, pirates, kidnappings, mythical South Asian relics, historical fantasy. Give me it!

This book blew me away like a sea squall, so much so that a year after I finished reading it, I still use nautical metaphors to make my point. Not to mention how much I love older, middle-aged protagonists. Weary mothers and retired cartographers with families to feed and perilous old habits, setting sail on an adventure? Aye, aye, Captain!

What I found most shocking about this book is that it is still relevant.

Published in 1984 with a revised edition in 1990, Dziech and Weiner dissect the "lecherous professor" archetype and the problem of sexual harassment on campus from every angle, without pulling punches. They include real cases, quotes, and statistics, as well as warning signs and guides for students, parents, and administrators.

Reading the how and why of the way predators operate, victims respond, and universities enable the crisis let me know I was not alone! This has been known for decades, and here I was thinking I was the only one. Not anymore.

I love English boarding school mysteries, and this one is told with a witty, humorous voice that kept me laughing. Throw in a lost Shakespeare play, an intriguing plot, and a lot of charm and humor, and this one had me hooked. Edmund Crispin was known for his erudite wit and huge vocabulary. I learned quite a few new words here.

The characters were fun and quirky, and the plucky teenage girl who’s smarter than the adults makes this book one of my favorite mysteries of the “golden age.” 

One of the common reactions to the death of a loved family member–especially any death we perceive to be unnecessary or unnatural–is extreme anger. We have to blame someone, and yes, there’s plenty of reproach and self-recrimination in John Burnham Schwartz’s novel, Reservation Road. But there’s a clear culprit–a hit and run driver–and it seems the police are hardly bothering to investigate, and in a case like that, anyone would have a target for their helpless rage. We see Ethan, a father who witnessed his ten-year-old son killed, become obsessed with tracking down the perpetrator himself to accomplish some justice. I understand that kind of anger and frustration, and I know many others do, too. I think it’s useful to both accept that it’s normal, but to look at how destructive it can become to carry it, and to consider how to let it go. 

Reservation Road is also… show more.

The quiet endurance of grief. I love this small, meditative novella that captures the essence of grief as it continues to linger in the body, the mind, and the heart long past the comfortability of those around you.

While the story focuses on the main character, an aging, gay professor who has come to Washington, DC, for a visiting professorship after losing his mother to a long illness, each person encountered is grieving something in their own way (I truly love that Holleran mirrors the main character’s grief with that of Mary Todd Lincoln’s after losing her husband to an assassin but also still grieving the death of her son via a biography he’s reading).

What I find so beautiful about this book is that Holleran doesn’t go for the theatrics of grief. He keeps the story and the emotions calm, methodic, and persistent with such great care to craft… show more.

Smith is a master at depicting multi-racial families (something she knows all about, as she grew up in one).

Her narratives take up the complex nature of the relationships between parents, children, and siblings, while delving into issues of race, class, politics, infidelity, and self-knowledge. Smith is expert with her use of voice, as she composes character through idiosyncratic styles of language and expression.

Life in this novel is colorful and messy, as it cleverly investigates the impossibility of really knowing those closest to you.

Abbott Awaits follows the spectacularly ordinary life of a father with a two-year-old; husband to an insomniac, pregnant wife; and university teacher. Bachelder evokes beauty in the mundane, dazzling splendor in domestic tedium, and in the middle of cleaning up his daughter’s vomited-up raspberries, a revelation that gets to the heart of Abbot’s heart-crushing yet devastatingly funny tour of his wildly imaginative inner life: “The following propositions are both true: A) Abbott would not, given the opportunity, change one significant element of his life, but B) Abbot cannot stand his life.”