Beth Tabler

Says: Telling the future is dead easy, girl,easier when you're already dead inside.
Excerpt from Finding Baba Yaga by Jane Yollen

This is an incredible idea, but not one that you can easily plow through. It needs to be savored like a fine wine or cheese. Taste each stanza, mull over each word, contemplate Yollen's direction for the story for each word is soaked in meaning and brimming with the narrative.

When I first started reading this story, I honestly did not know what to expect. I don't know much about the legend of Baba Yaga. I still don't really feel like I do. But, I think I have a deeper sense of the legends meaning and what Baba Yaga means for Russian mythology and legend.

I step onto the path,knowing it is but the beginning,one foot, then the other,till I gleam silver all over,in the moonlight.
Excerpt from Finding Baba Yaga by Jane Yollen

The overarching themes of the story are very direct and present. In the beginning, we have the controlling father and the harshness of a house that is not a home. Later we have the escape, starvation, and running to the forest to find freedom. The teenage girl finds the house with the chicken legs and begins to live with Baba Yaga, learning all of her magic. With this independence, the girl learns to trust and confidence in herself and who she is inside. I think this is an important thing to take away from this book. The girl finds freedom in her independence and confidence, coming from a broken home some readers can empathize with that. It is empowering and beautiful. But don't believe me, go read it for yourself because that is the miracle and beauty of the prose. What it means to me can be entirely different for another reader. Neither of us is wrong nor right, we can just sit back and sit in awe and Jane Yollen's gorgeously crafted words.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with a copy of this marvelous book in exchange for my review.

This is a brilliant collection of stories told by the people who didn't win. History usually is stories of those who won but not by all those affected. This collection of short graphic stories attempts to rectify that. Each story is a moment in history told through the eyes of an indigenous person. They are all graphically and thematically different, but each of the stories is extremely important. I couldn't pick a favorite, each one excelled and was beautiful. I recommend this group of stories.

Please check out this review and others on www.grimdarkmagazine.com or my personal blog www.beforewegoblog.com

Master of Sorrows by Justin Travis Call is the book I have been waiting for all year. Ainnevog, let's call him Annev, is a boy with a simple but not easy path before him. He works as a school deacon and takes classes to become an avatar there. An avatar is one who goes out into the world, finds magical items, and brings them back to the school so that they can be safely stored away. In the world that Call has created, magic use is verboten. If one is found to be using magic or has a magical gift, they are flayed alive and stoned. Passing the Avatar of Judgement classes and final tests for Annev is an all-consuming endeavor. Only the best can become an avatar. While taking his classes, Annev also studies and is guided by the school's priest and father figure, Sodar. How will Annev balance the two halves of his life? The public half is an avatar trainee and rule-follower, while the secret half is a magic user and possibly a destined hero. That is the crux of the story: duality.

Furthermore, to add to the duality of the plot, Annev is on the precipice of manhood. Of coming into his own and knowing who he is. But, as it stands, he is not quite a boy nor a man.

Master of Sorrows is in the style of Patrick Rothfuss's epic Name of the Wind and Pierce Brown's Red Rising series. They all share similar trajectories. A boy from dubious circumstances is thrust into a world they can not quite understand, in Master of Sorrows' case, an anti-magic school. This boy is destined for more incredible things but is hampered on all sides by morally grey characters. I say they share similar trajectories, but there is nothing bland or hackneyed in Master of Sorrows.

The plotting and backstory of Master of Sorrows is tightly done and rich in history. Annev comes from a world of gods, precisely three major ones – all siblings. Odar, Lumea, and Keos. Two gods, Odar and Lumea, are still culturally and spiritually revered by the public. But the other god, Keos, is considered the betrayer. Those who are born disabled are said to have been touched by Keos. They are considered to be in Keos's favor and are immediately put to death. But in Annev's case, as he was born without a left hand, instead of death, he was saved and raised by Sodar. This becomes another part of the duality and line that Annev must walk. He is the antithesis of everything an Avatar of Judgement is, yet he battles and struggles to excel and achieve an Avatar position while hiding his disability.

One of the detractors of the story, there are very few, is the love interest between Annev and Myjun. Watching from the position of a reader, one can look at a relationship like Annev's and Myjun's and think it is incredibly unrealistic and sometimes silly. Annev makes buffoonish decisions that make me want to shake him. But isn't that what it is like when you are 17? You make stupid choices because your body is going berzerk with hormones. As much as I cringed when reading about Annev's mooning, it is a realistic detail. To make him a full and round character, Annev needs to experience things like love, loss, and betrayal on his narrative path. This relationship is something that an older and wiser Annev in later books can pull and learn from. Also, the exposition of the story in some parts was lengthy. This is necessary due to the humongous back story and cultural context in which Annev's character exists. Sometimes, I wanted to return to the action, but these chapters are necessary.

Aside from the tight plot, one of the significant strengths of the story was the relationship between Sodar and Annev. Sodar is not all that he seems. He was living a double life; one as a priest to the students, the other as scholar and magic-user. The latter he keeps hidden from all but Annev, whom he has raised from a baby and trusts. Sodar is the stern father figure who attempts to guide Annev to his destiny while similarly protecting him from its details. They have an easiness between them that has developed throughout their shared lives, and is a testament to Call's writing skills that this came off effortlessly. I believed in their relationship, which presented no false notes to me.

Another major strength of this story is the tense action sequences. They flowed like water from scene to scene and are some of the best I have read. Whether Annev is battling wild contraptions in his bid for a position as an avatar or fighting Feurog's (creatures made of metals, stones, and flesh), the pulse-racing, edge-of-your-seat intensity kept me reading into the late hours.

The first narrative arc for Annev is done, but his story is far from over. Master of Shadows can be read as a stand-alone novel if one desires; however, the outcome was a bit of a cliffhanger that had me yearning for more. I want to know where this story is going. I want to know more about Annev and who accompanies him on the next part of his journey.
I hate that it hasn't been written yet!

Master of Sorrows is one of the best books I have read this year and a perfect example of grimdark fantasy. It isn't overly mired in negativity or cruelness. The rawer parts of grimdark and epic fantasy are there, but this story is tinged with hope in the best possible way. It is riveting, exciting, and will stick with me for a while.

I cannot wait to read the next book, a solid five-star novel, and I highly recommend it.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with a copy of this book in exchange for my honest opinion.

I do believe that Debbie Tung is my spirit animal. Who else could understand my profound love of books?

However, I think this book is just a little too long with too much love. I will happily adore, embrace, remember and understand her love of books for about 50 pages. I have been in every one of the scenarios she draws adorable cartoons of. Believe me, I agree and get it. But, after 50 pages it gets repetitive. There are only so many different scenarios in which I can get all the feels in one sitting. If a reader were to pick this up and randomly turn to any page, read it, smile and move one about your day. I think it would be much more effective. I would recommend this for an adorable coffee table book. One that you turn to occasionally read a few pages, get the feels and put down. Otherwise, it is just too much.

Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for providing me with a copy in exchange for my honest review.

I loved this little book. Wendall is so cute and it is almost heartwarming the way that it is rendered and narrated. It is the soft colored by highly detailed pictures that sold me on the story. I think I would buy it just for that and keep in on my shelf. The story is cute and bittersweet, a bit light and childish, but cute nonetheless. The story works. I would recommend for a precocious middle schooler who is being introduced to the gorgeous world of graphic novels.

I very much wanted to like this story. The artwork is well done, and the narrative is inviting and interesting. But, I could not get past the impossibilities behind the science. That might just be me. If they would have addressed any of the science things: oceans, oxygen, plants, animals, anything it would have been a better story for me.

David Small has crafted an atmospheric, timeless, and fearlessly dark coming of age story. He has taken everything and put it out for the world to see, panel by panel. It is uncomfortable, some of the panels make me feel ill, some make me squirm, some almost made me cry. This isn't a book that brings warm fuzziness. Matter-a-fact, this story ends quite abruptly. This was a profoundly difficult story for me to get through.

Small creates a narrative of growing up in the 1950s. His mother has abandoned him. His father, an alcoholic has pretty much abandoned him as well. There isn't much for him to cling to. Many of the situations he finds himself in show just how rudderless a kid he really is. There is violence, gore, bullying, and animal cruelty. This is a heart wrenching and dark book. It takes you places that I am not sure most readers want to go. I actually had to read it in short bursts because it left me feeling to much to plow through it. Stitches his other book, was dark like this but in a slightly different way. By the end of Stitches I hated the parents and what they had did to him, in this story I have no idea how I feel. Maybe just hated the situations that he was put in. It is well done, but definitely not for everyone. Read with caution, especially if you are triggered by the above.

(Reviewer's Note:  This story hit pretty close to home for me. I am speaking from a very tender spot about gun violence. It was very personal and I talk a bit about that. If you are triggered by discussions about gun violence, this book is not for you in any way.)

As Author Michael Bendis wrote on the second page of this story, we all feel silent rage, and he felt like he did not have anything new to bring to the table. I don't believe that. I think that each of us, including Michael, in our own ways, are whacked out and off-kilter. It is as if we citizens of the United States are treading water and a giant dark wave wants to crush us. Violence once thought to be the thing of movies and TV, is all about us. But, we as a society are sold the idea that the violence is happening somewhere else, not here. Not at a country music concert. Suspicious theories, no better than the “whisper game” from childhood, tell us our news. The news that is vetted and manipulated to want to tear us along party lines not since seen since the civil war. Those Blues and Those Reds.

The thought that this book even exists makes me want to tear at my hair and bruise my fists on the walls. I want to take my sweet five-year-old child and hide her away in a bunker, teach her training, martial arts, and never to have her leave home without body armor. I wish I were kidding. But violence killed a class of adorable five years old kids that just wanted to talk about barney and Winnie the pooh. They are the personification of innocence. It is insane.

Are you still with me here? I promise to get to the bits about the book and why it is so damn important to me. 

I AM LAS VEGAS NATIVE.

I didn't just live there like so many Cali transplants coming for cheaper homes. I grew up and ran through the deserts of lizards, jackrabbits, and Joshua Trees. Trees that look like a spikey alien reaching for the heavens only to feel a loss at being anchored to the burning sand. I was there when strip signs fell, water-filled up hotels, hotels raised to the sky as glittering monstrosities, and came crashing down reduced to nothing - nothing but ghosts. Vegas courses through my blood as much as blood cells do. Vegas is a glittery and dirty myth for some, but for me, Vegas will always be a four-letter word - home. I got married in Liberace's house - I am as Vegas as they come.


I think because of my personal connection to the subject matter, the entire experience reading it was more heartbreaking. This book broke me in places that I didn't know had places. I currently live in Portland, but I remember learning about the shooting and frantically calling MY ENTIRE FAMILY. “Please don't be there. Please don't be there” I begged the portland sky. I was so far away and impotent in the face of all of this. They were not there, bless the gods, but some other friends worked in the Mandalay as security, I have friends working two hotels over dealing cards. My parents live one mile down the street next to Las Vegas Blvd. This night shattered me because it was the idea of home being blown apart by bullets.

Someone did that, and I am forever changed by it.

The book itself is good. Really good. It is a selection of events, memories, collections of ideas about the Las Vegas experience, and what it was to be there. Maybe I am biased because my sense of home and safety got blow apart by a motherfucker with a gun. So I might be viewing this story a little differently than other folks. But that is ok. Books and reading can be a very personal experience based on your moments from your past and visions of your future. For me, this story felt both homey; these are my people, and painful because of the topic. In terms of content, the book sways between illustrated accounts of the victim's experiences during the shooting and calls to action for gun control. If these are two things affect you and you feel passionate about they can be very triggering. This book is not attempting to make a two-sided argument regarding guns, so don't expect that. This book is for the victims and the violence has already happened, and this book talks about the aftermath. 

Graphically it is beautiful. Each page is a new writer, style, opinion, and idea of what home is. It is a kaleidoscope of colors, darkness, light, and talent. I think people should read this to connect, even for the moment, with what happens after significant gun violence. Even if you are pro-gun, you can read appreciate this book as a collection of art pieces. Some of the images are that good. 

Maybe it can help change the violent madness we walk as a society, maybe it can't. But taken as a whole this is a very stirring work to read and maybe, just maybe, a little healing for those who have been directly affected by the violence. I wholeheartedly and sadly recommend it

Fabulous! RTC

If you would like to read more of my review check out beforewegoblog.com

Swine hill is a place that will hurt your body, wrack your soul at the altar of human selfishness, and destroy you. Imagine living in this place. Imagine working at the store or a packing plant here. Imagine having to share part of your soul with the undead. Hick's characters do, and for a short time, we readers also do.  Hick's has invented a story that is so rife with pain, imagination, and horrors that if you could take the spawn of Dr. Moreau and The Haunting of Hill House you would have something close to this. Haunt is unsettling in ways that made me uncomfortable deep down in my bones.

Hicks explores the premise of a haunted family in a haunted town. It centers around the protagonists Jane and Henry. Brother and sister trapped with the souls of unsettled ghosts inside them. In Jane's case, it is the soul of a woman who thrives on conflict and secrets. The spirit silently whispers to jane the horrible thoughts and intentions of those around her. Henry has the ghost of a mad inventor inside him seeking to create incredible and awful machines whose purpose is sometimes unknown. The pair is also influenced by their mother and father, both haunted. Her mother is haunted by a person so craving affection that her body physically radiates heat. Enough to burn and scar. Jane is the heart of the family. Silently she pounds away at life and looks after her family as best as she can within the circumstances.

The crux of the story rests around Henry and how his mad ghost creates things. This time Henry invents pig people. Upright human-like animals that are built to self-slaughter and could eventually render the town and by extension humans obsolete. Henry  creates many, but individually we meet Hog Boss and his kind son Dennis. Both are good-natured and thoughtful people set at deliberate juxtaposition to the rest of the “human” inhabitants of the town. Enter the fearful townsfolk, frightened of the unknown, in both the pig people and the loss of their livelihood. What happens next can only be described as an explosive clash between the old ways and the new all within the context of Jane attempting to save people.

The setting in the story is unrestrainedly unworldly. The writing drips darkness and moisture from every page and sometimes, I could swear my kindle was fogging up from the cold. Hicks absolutely has created a world where you should be very afraid that ghosts will settle in your bones.

The underlying theme of this story is relationships: sister to brother, mother to son, lover to lover. In this, it is the immense power of links that can drive a person to the unthinkable or the extraordinary. What would I do for the person I love? What would I do to the person I hate? Person to person a spiderweb of narrative and relationships is created. This web holds the town together and eventually culminating in it blasting apart.
Behind the relationship web and narrative, Hicks also remarks on social problems. Racism, sexism, classicism and the dehumanization of immigrants in the United States are allegorically reflected upon. This adds another critical dimension to the story. It is more profound than ghosts or pigs. It is so much more.

It is poignantly cruel that these characters, so afflicted, must also contend with the worst problems we see in our own world. Hicks will unflinchingly show you the horrific visage of ghosts and nightmares pulled from the headlines of our own world, leaving you to wonder whether one lot is truly fundamentally worse than the other. And yet, perhaps it is true that they who would grow must first be made to suffer. Certainly, the growth we see in these characters is the result of a purposefully built set of trials and woes; it is not an easy journey for us to follow but it rewards us as only a master-crafted tale can.

Things get harsh and really painful for the characters in this story. I know I have alluded to it vaguely, but I don't want to give away the cleverness of the story. It is scary, mystical, and bittersweet. It absolutely deserves all of the forthcoming awards that are going to be thrown at it. If you are a fan of the horror/bizarro genre, look no further than this book, but even more so if you are a fan of the written word and the power it can wield, this is a worthy read.

Thanks to Edelweiss and the publisher for a free copy of this ebook in exchange for an unbiased review.

Elevation is proof that Stephen King can write a mediocre novel.

It isn't a bad novella; I don't think Stephen King has ever written anything terrible. But this isn't his best.

The premise of the story follows character Scott Carey of Castle Rock, Maine. A lot of craziness happens in Castle Rock in the King world. It is the nexus for all evil as far as I am concerned. Scott develops a strange problem, reminiscent of King's other novel Thinner. Scott keeps losing weight at a pound or more day. The odd part is Scott looks no different mass wise. He isn't thinner, but he weighs less. Even carry metal chains and fully clothed, he continually is losing weight on the scale.

This is impossible in an ordinary world, but not Castle Rock. Scott starts to see some of the errors in his ways in his life and tries to make amends. The ending is odd and utterly predictable.

I ended this story with a full-body shrug and sigh. It was just a middle of the road story, not much exciting happened, then it stopped.

As far as recommending it, I would recommend it as much as lukewarm tea and a slightly burnt piece of plain toast. Not going to kill you, but all you are going to get out of the experience is some calories.

Veronica Roth's Arch Conspirtitor had all the makings of a great book. The premise is based on the Greek tragedy of Antigone, the girl who rises up alone. She will defy her uncle and ultimately dies young. There is also a war between siblings, death, and sadness. Antigone is enough of a story to base a new book on. But Roth took Antigone and added a new layer of depth to it. It takes place in a dystopia, in one of the last cities. Children are no longer born naturally but selected from existing cells and reproduced. This selection puts a limit on new humans and gene diversity. They do all this because of religion (waves hand). When you die, your gametes are harvested through a device inserted below your belly button. To not do so is the ultimate dishonor to someone.

The rest of the story could be more straightforward. It is too much for a tiny novella-length story. I had difficulty sifting through all the elements of Greek mythos and science fiction to make a cohesive story. I like Veronica Roth, Insurgent and Carve the Mark are exciting and well-thought-out storylines. Arch Conspirator is a good idea that aimed for too much and fell short. It has just too much going on for me to recommend it.
3/5

As a reader, sometimes I get bogged down in various genres. I am a fan of Science fiction, Fantasy, and every iteration that comes out of that side of the bookstore. But I realize that while I read widely, I don't read widely enough to get my feet firmly planted in fiction. So when presented with an opportunity to check out this beautiful book by Jamila Minnicks, I jumped at the chance.

The premise of Moonrise Over New Jessup is thus: “It's 1957, and after leaving the only home she has ever known, Alice Young steps off the bus into the all-Black town of New Jessup, Alabama, where residents have largely rejected integration as the means for Black social advancement. Instead, they seek to maintain, and fortify, the community they cherish on their “side of the woods.” In this place, Alice falls in love with Raymond Campbell, whose clandestine organizing activities challenge New Jessup's longstanding status quo and could lead to the young couple's expulsion—or worse—from the home they both hold dear. But as Raymond continues to push alternatives for enhancing New Jessup's political power, Alice must find a way to balance her undying support for his underground work with her desire to protect New Jessup from the rising pressure of upheaval from inside, and outside, their side of town.”

In the first few paragraphs, we meet Alice and learn of her predicament. Her mother has died, and a few weeks back, her father passed away, leaving Alice an orphan. Her beloved sister moved out a while ago, presumably to the big city, although Alice can't find her, and she knows she needs to leave as soon as possible before the landlord figures out a way to get her behind the toolshed. Alice is a protagonist that is bold enough to understand a situation and knows she needs to take action but tender enough that the move will sting. She has to leave everything she has ever known, hoping for something better.

We end up in the thriving town of New Jessup. Alice gets off the bus and looks for a non-white water fountain and doesn't find any. Or anything of its kind because New Jessup is an all-black community. There is a calm to New Jessup in the way that Minnicks describes New Jessup, a beautiful calm in stark contrast with where she came from.

The story is slow-paced, at times almost like molasses. But that adds something to the narrative, quiet, slow, and sitting on the porch drinking icey sweet tea. Moonrise Over New Jessup is a character-driven story, so while the pace is languishing, we are getting to know the characters for all their good and evil. This place is a haven against the racial tensions surrounding the town on all sides.

After reading it, it isn't easy to sum up how I feel about this book. The first word that comes to mind is stunning. The prose and lyrical nature of the writing are captivating. It takes you to 1957; you feel the heat on your skin and see it shimmering across the blacktop. The bus just drove away, and you smell the exhaust. But most of all, the writing conveys the uncertainty Alice Young feels in this new environment and how that changes over time. It conveys the social state of the world in 1957, and how that is rapidly evolving, it describes how the world viewed women, specifically women of color.

But most of all, it made me appreciate Minnicks' beautiful writing and gave me the desire to seek out all their work.

Seanan McGuire has rare ability to delve into deep subjects, in this case loss without drowning the reader in sorrow.  This ability is what makes Wayward Children such a beautiful and compelling series. In this instance, the newest Wayward story, Lost in the Moment and Found, is a story about loss in all of its iterations.

Antoinette, or Antsy as she is refereed starts the story through here memory as a child of her father dying right in front of her, at Target of all places. The pain she feels at the loss of her beloved father colors her interactions through the rest of the story. And, while the pain of loss dulls with time and experience, the wound never really leaves you. Antsy is wounded, and dealing with trauma. Her mother, flawed as she is trying to make her way through the grief of the loss of her husband. And in that grief, she find love with a new man. Although Ansty doesn't trust the man, a child's intuition, she tries to be civil with him. But, there is a reason why loss is discussed in many forms and Antsy ends up physically lost hiding in the doorstop of a shop with big words above the door:

“Be Sure”

Antsy decides that she is, pushes through and finds out where lost things go. We start a journey into grief, healing, and loss. While Antsy is lost in so many ways, McGuire never for one moment allows the audience to become lost. We are at rapt attention page by page. If you haven't started this series, you aught to. This is one of the best series being written today, book after book. And I am sure that you will enjoy it as much as I did. if you decide to make the leap, and purchase the slim first book of the series, pause for a moment. Take a deep breath and be sure because you are about to go on an adventure.

If you would like to read any of my other reviews please visit me at beforewegoblog.com

In an ordinary town, on a very normal garden path, Katherine Victoria Lundy came to an incredible tree with an impossibly carved door. Through it, she strolled down a hallway whose walls are carved from a single piece of wood that seemed to have no beginning nor end, and came upon signs in neatly done cross stitch declaring rules for this realm, this place that could not be:

Rule One – Ask for nothing.
Rule Two – Names have power.
Rule Three – Always give fair value.
Rule Four – Obey the curfew.

Katherine Victoria Lundy was six years old. This is her story and how she came to the Goblin Market.

In 1964 six-year-old Katherine, never Kat, Kitty, or Kathy, always Katherine, realized that her life was going to eventually end someday. Before that fateful day, her life would be full of planned moments all taking part in a sequence she could already see: School, husband, work as a librarian, eventually children, then death. She neither dreaded nor welcomed the impending onslaught of events, it just was. Even her family was remarkable in its lack of remarkability. Her father is a plain and ordinary school principal. Her mother was round with the impending birth of her younger sister, and her brother was not interested in his much younger sibling. Everything just...was.


“She was ordinary.

She was remarkable.
Of such commonplace
contradictions are weapons made.”
In an absent dream – Seanan McGuire

Katherine is in many ways a typical 8-year old, but her personality shines in many unique ways. Like many kids, she does not understand the vagaries and behavior in her peers – yet she surpasses other children (and probably adults) in her ability to understand the broader picture. It is as if Katherine has a gaping hole in her sense of self and how it is to be a socialized person. Katherine is calm, collected and assured of herself, but she knows that the social aspect of being a kid is something she lacks. So she yearns for that connection. Time passes in the story as it does in life, both very slowly in the minute to minute and all at once like a gale force wind.

Katherine is now 8 years old.

The story progresses, and Katherine becomes more of herself if that is even possible. She is more secure in the knowledge of who she is and what she likes. This is mostly books, something I can identify with. What I enjoy about Seanan Macguires ability to write can be summed up in this chapter, “When is a Door Not a Door.” Children have personality and souls. They are people in all respects except for age, and authors tend to write about children as if they are not people, but characterizations of what we, as a reader think a child should be. Seanan does not. Katherine is a fully developed, albeit young character.

Katherine is presented a door in a twisted Oak tree with the words, “Be Sure” carved across it. And for reasons that even Katherine does not fully understand, she passes through it into the Goblin Market. Here she is assailed with exotic sounds, adventures, and creatures out of imagination and myth rather than reality. As a reader, I can almost picture this scene like when we meet the worm from Labyrinth, “don't go that way...” We also meet a character that becomes a friend, her first therefore best friend, Moon. Katherine, who is now Lundy because true names have power, learns from Moon and The Archivist, another important character, the ins, and outs of the Goblin Market.

The Goblin market is both a setting for the story and even in its own way, a character. The Market is entirely based on perceived fairness. If any deal is struck, words spoke, or actions are taken within the confines of the Market, the Market weighs it against its own standard of fairness. If one fails to make a fair deal, or what is called “fair value,” the market takes action against the perpetrator in the form of debt. Debt, rather than being its typical elusive and abstract concept, actually makes a physical change on the wearer. If the wearer of the debt continues to act against fair value, they will eventually physically transmogrify into a bird. This is the crux of the story. What is fair value?


“She was Katherine, she was the teacher's pet, and when she grew up,
she was going to be a librarian because she couldn't imagine knowing there was a job
that was all about books and not wanting to do it.”
In an absent dream – Seanan McGuire

Does Lundy want to come back? Does she want to stay? How does she give fair value to her family both blood (the human world), and adopted (the Goblin Market.) How does she live in two worlds, and give fair value to herself? Because the Goblin Market is always watching and taking account? I am not going to give it away, and even with the ending of the story and what will be a beginning for Lundy, it is oddly unsatisfying. This isn't a book that wraps morals in a tight and tiny little package to be opened at a later date. Even if I wanted a sweet and happy ending for Lundy, that isn't in the character of the Market and in the bigger picture, The Wayward series. Fairy tales and fairylands are unique and magical and very seldom kind or gentle.

Each of the Wayward Books touches on essential lessons. Seanan creates a character and place around a crucial social concept. This is no different. The resounding lessons I took from reading this book were two-fold. Firstly, a chosen family is as strong and vital as a blood family. Secondly, Fair value is up to the user and is becoming increasingly scarce in our world of apathy. What is fair for one, is not fair for another. Context and experience flavor the users perspective. This story is a small allegory for that concept.

In an Absent Dream can function just as easily as a standalone novel as it does as the fourth in the Wayward series and it is a masterpiece folks. An utterly magical story and I highly recommend reading it.

Thank you to Tor.com for providing me with an ARC of this in exchange for my honest review.

You ever look back at something you read 15 or 20 years ago and have that “A-Ha” moment.
Not the ridiculously good band from the eighties A-Ha, but the mind-altering epiphany moment when you realize that a plot point that was salient to the whole freaking novel zoomed right the hell over your head. Yup, I had one of those.

I read this book when I was right out of high school and entirely in love with the idea of a wild wonderland of paradise filled with gorgeous people and no responsibility. I wanted to see, do, and experience life. I still do, but those ideas are now tempered with age, trust, hopefully, some integrity. When I saw the Leonardo movie when it came out and thought what an incredible view plus the utterly kick-ass soundtrack helped. Anyone like the group VAST? Still one of my favorites. I thought to myself that this was entirely a must read. It will change my life, and maybe I could envelop a little of this wild abandon that I so desperately yearned for.The problem was that when I read the novel, I was left unsettled and feeling dirty. It felt like someone had taken my brain and used it to scour pans for an afternoon. The book was like a beautiful Honey Crisp apple sitting on a shelf, but when you cut into it.The apple had a rotten core filled with maggots. It had not lived up to my fantasies. I felt gypped and thought it poorly written drivel. What was actually weak, was my perspective and understanding of life beyond my hometown. “The Beach” has nothing to do with paradise, but the outlook on what actually constitutes paradise and the darkness in people and the lengths of which one would go to protect it. It is a smart book, and subtle in its narration. Its overall gravitas was not something I could appreciate at the time, but it is something that I can look back on now and understand. One of the key things that garland does it keep the undercurrents flowing within the language of the everyday life of the travelers. He describes the day to day tasks that they need to accomplish; Fishing, farming, and partying. While subtly hinting at the darker parts of the characters psyches. Reminds me of a much less ham-fisted and more eloquent “lord of the Flies,” but for a much older audience. In the end, the characters are scarred both mentally and physically. If you are looking for a book that tears you up inside a bit, look no further. It is worth the second read, especially if you have some life experiences behind you.

I have been to New Orleans, once. And even in my limited understanding of New Orleans, I can imagine how difficult it would be to get down on paper. Not only does P. Djèlí Clark get it on paper, but he also evokes the “spirit of the place.” He understands what makes New Orleans hum. Clark understands the smells, and he gets the people. He gets what it feels like to walk the cobblestone streets and hear the music of Mardi Gras. Any reader can read this story and smell beignets, moss, and hear the deep thrumming of drums in their bones. It is no small feat.

The Black Gods Drums is an immersive tale, a steamboat-esque alternative history. An Eloquently written, and researched, story set in confederate era New Orleans post Civil War Stalemate. Clark took legends and folklore from Haiti, the Caribbean, and Africa and paired them with the history of the Haitian Slave Rebellion of 1794. In reality, the rebellion helped create only Haiti, a state free from slavery, and ruled by non-whites and former captives. Yet, in this story, the rebellion helped free Haiti as well as most of the Caribbean and created a state known as The Free Isles. Thus a great stalemate was born between the Free Isles and the slave owning south. A stalemate based upon a mysterious weapon, previously used once against the French fleet. A weapon that is so powerful that to use it again, it would destroy everything.

Against the backdrop of history, both real and imagined lay New Orleans and our protagonist Creeper. Creeper is a 13-year-old street kid gifted or cursed by the goddess Oya. She makes her living stealing and doing what is necessary survive. Even though Creeper is a thief, there a strong moral current that flows through her. Given different circumstances, you know that Creeper wouldn't steal. There is no great thrill to stealing save for prolonging her life a day at a time. Oya, the Yoruba goddess of winds, lightning, and violent storms, death, and rebirth. She was brought to New Orleans in the hearts of slaves. Part of Oya has settled inside of Creeper, sending her visions and protecting her on occasion.

Creeper wants to escape her circumstance. After a chance meeting with a Cajun smuggler and overhearing some useful and important information, Creeper has a chance to leave. What follows is an exciting array of characters. Specifically in the form of Captain Ann-Marie of the airship Midnight Robber. The Captain has secrets of her own and that could involve Creeper. The story has exciting plot elements and a gorgeous retelling of history from that era.

If you like stories that involve nuns, smuggling, mysticism, and saving the world. All set against New Orleans, this is the story for you. It is gorgeously and atmospherically written and I cannot wait to read whatever else Clark writes.

I received a copy of this from the publisher via Edelweiss+ in exchange for my open and honest review.

American Gods, Vol 2 My Ainsel has the dubious task of portraying the middle of a book. Often when reading a story, the center is the boring part. The part that is not the exciting beginning or the escalating and profound conclusion. No. The middle is the part where the characters walk. If you are reading Lord of the Rings, odds are they are walking. It is significant but taken as a slice of the bigger narrative pie; the walking is boring.

Not so much with My Ainsel.

Don't get me wrong; this slice of the narrative is not as exciting as the first American Gods Vol. 1. Or, dare say, will it be as impressive as the not-yet-written Vol. 3 as the denument of the American Gods book plays out. But, this story was an exciting and faithful adaptation of Neil Gaiman's much-beloved novel. Oddly enough, instead of walking, this is the story of a long road trip. It is a vital part of the narrative, a needed pause. The characters, mainly Shadow and Wednesday, circle the wagons and gather the forces. The story also chronicles Shadow's time in Lakeside and touches on the parallel dimension that is accessible to gods. Because the narrative is pausing, the artwork has to do the heavy lifting to progress the story forward and create compelling visuals. I think that this is where the volume shines. The artwork is beautiful. I am a fan of Gaiman's comic style, expressive, artistic, and a touch wonky. It isn't perfect. Some of the character renderings are a bit off. For example, the young girls Shadow interacts with on a bus ride look much older than their 14 years. It can throw the reader out of the story. I did appreciate the depictions of Las Vegas as they were colorful and otherworldly. They are what someone thinks Vegas should look like, and in that way are useful. Although, as someone from Vegas I always find depictions of Vegas as some kaleidoscope adult dream world a description that lacks in imagination. But, in terms of the story, I liked the scene quite a bit.

Overall, this adaptation was excellent. It wasn't perfect; it had slight pacing, art, and story issues. But as far as a middle goes, it excelled. It did the original story justice, and undoubtedly will bring more American Gods fans into the fold.

I am looking forward to the third volume to see the artwork and how it further adapts the source material. If you are new to the series, congratulations, stay awhile. American Gods is a treat.

As a side note and a bit of cleverness on Neil Gaiman's part, My Ainsel is a Northumbrian folk tale and means My own self. I doubt that was a coincidence. 

In BadAsstronauts, Grady Hendrix wrote a story about cousins, NASA, and a whole lot of rednecks. Ones he affectionately refers to as Redneck NASA, and there has never been a more apt moniker for this rag-tag group of people with the single goal of getting someone's ass to orbit.

The story starts with Walter, a drunk and retired astronaut who gave up on the dream of getting to the stars long ago. After his mission goes south, his cousin is stuck on the abandoned International Space Station, awaiting death. NASA is out of money; they want to sweep this PR debacle under the rug.

Walter is not having it.

Walter's little farm in Melville, South Carolina, might just have to become the beacon of hope blinking in the darkness for “misfits, drifters, rocket junkies, pyromaniacs, dreamers, science nerds, and Astro-hippies who believe that space shouldn't just be for billionaires.” Walter will break all the laws, state, federal, and decency, to get himself to orbit to grab his cousin. The ship is made out of tin cans, chicken wire, duct tape, and drug-induced fever dreams, and “like Braveheart yelling, “Hold..hold....hold,” Walter is going to pull this mess together or die trying.

With this contraption, the dying might just be guaranteed.

Grady Hendrix has a wonderful knack for lightness in his stories. Even when at their most gruesome, they don't stray too far and become heavy. He is excellent at the darkly funny and the absurd, which balances well with the scary or, in this case, absolutely batshit. Hendrix did that here in BadAsstronauts. The subject matter, redneck NASA, is nuts. The idea of a disparate group of characters coming together for what is usually an unobtainable goal has just enough plausibility to make it work. NASA, for most people, is something other people do. Towering figures like Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong, it is not for ordinary people like Jethro down at the trailer park who loves to blow up stuff.

So I salute Walter for trying to save his cousin, I salute the folks of redneck NASA for coming together, I salute the “can-do” attitude of ordinary folks, and I salute Grady Hendrix for writing another entertaining story.

If you would like to see more of my reviews, please check out my blog https://beforewegoblog.com/

A dystopian fantasy story set into a world that entirely takes place on a large island. The island itself divides into the “Haves” and “Have-nots.” The “Haves” are those that live inside the wall at the center of the island. The “Have-nots” are those that live outside of the wall. We never understand exactly why those that live at the center of the island are considered better. There is some general allusion to a story about gods, but it didn't seem fleshed out enough for me as a reader. From a practical standard, this idea was challenging for me and threw me out of the story a bit. In the real-world, you would need access to the sea for food purposes. Commerce would need to move across the wall in one fashion or another. But, commerce is not directly talked about, but maybe that should be assumed by the reader.

Men of stature get two wives. One that is a Marylyn Monroe type, she is used for child breeding purposes. The other is a Jackie Kennedy type, that is a helpmate and schooled on assisting her husband in his career. One wife to attend to her husband's physical needs while the other attends to her husband's mind and intellect. The division of the two wives responsibilities again hearken back to the legend of the god with two wives.

It is a bleak picture of a world where women are trained and schooled as a commodity and bought by the highest bidder. I feel as a reader; this world could have been more fleshed out more. How did women, in general, think about this system. Was it present in the lower classes of societal hierarchy? I would love to learn more about these relationships.

The heroine of the story is a woman named Daniela. She has trained in the art of being a Primera. All brains and coldness. While her counterpart, the Segunda is all passion and vibrancy. I enjoyed Daniela's perspective and her inner voice. She was a strong character with enough weakness that she is believable.

The issue I had with the story is the romance that comes out of nowhere. It felt shoehorned in. There was no build-up to it, no hinting in previous chapters. BAM romance. I don't want to say more and give away spoilers. Same goes for the ending. I wasn't prepared for it, and it leaves the reader on quite the cliff hanger.

Even with the instant-romance, this is an engaging story, and I enjoyed it. I look forward to the next installment and the continued world-building. It seems like there are quite a few places for this story to go.

Legend & Lattes by Travis Bladree is a fantasy story wrapped in a warm hug with a side of scones and a perfectly creamy dark roast latte. Travis Baldree, the famous audio narrator, has offered a gift to the reading world with an un-schmaltzy story that even the hardest of grimdark readers can get behind.

“it was like drinking the feeling of being peaceful. Being peaceful in your mind. Well, not if you have too much, then it's something else.”

The story follows Viv, an Orc, as she leaves her bloodstained warrior days behind her. She came to a moment where she knew she would never find happiness in her current profession. Plus, there was that magical cup of wonder she had at that gnomish city a while ago. It was time for her to set down the sword, pick up the dish towel, and hopefully find some peace.

She finds a city that is not too large, not too small but is a perfect size. She finds a property in disrepair and goes to work. Firstly, no one but her knows what coffee is. They drink tea here, for shame. Secondly, she has no staff; thirdly, her “coffee house” is a horse stable. She is going to need some help.

And I think that is the point, she no longer has to do everything alone; she can make relationships and does. Great ones. Viv stumbles here and there, but her friends help her get through the worst things using their best skills. I like that Bladree shows that people can change and can grow.

While this is a hopeful fantasy, hope punk, if you will, there is still conflict. This slight conflict kept the story from going too sticky-sweet. Instead, the variance of the story helped balance out the elements. Travis Baldree knew what to do to make the story balance out.

If you enjoy cozy stories that warm even the coldest and deadest of hearts, read Legend & Lattes. Use it as a refresher between bouts of Mark Lawrence or Joe Abercrombie. Sometimes the world is not as heartless as we think and a warm, perfectly made cup of coffee is all it takes to make everything all better.

A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine is an expertly crafted science fiction fantasy novel that incorporates real-world cultures into the intricate Aztec Empire influenced mythos. It is shining and immersive and should be read and read often.

“This book is dedicated to anyone who has ever fallen in love with a culture that was devouring their own.”

Right from the first pages of the story, you know that you are reading something different, and doing a little research into author Arkady Martine I instantly knew why. Martine is by profession a historian and city planner. The city planning part thrilled me to no end as I was also a city planner once upon a time. She has many prestigious degrees, one of which is a Ph.D. in medieval Byzantine, global, and comparative history at Rutgers University. When you read this book, you will notice the excellent care and detailing that went into the language and worldbuilding of the Teixcalaani Empire with obvious influences from the pre-colonial/conquest Aztec Empire and influences from the Nahuatl languages. The Nahuatl language group is currently spoken by close to two million people in central Mexico and was spoken by the Aztecs.

“Released, I am a spear in the hands of the sun.”

Often you read science fiction and fantasy novels that are based on or influenced by a particular culture. They usually only “pay lip service” to that culture. Authors delve deep enough historically and sociologically to have a general understanding of that culture enough to be as respectful and authentic as they can in the depiction with varying degrees of success. I think that what is so exceptional about A Memory Called Empire, and why it won the Hugo award for best novel and a finalist for the Nebula for the same category is that instead of superficially glancing at the culture, it is intensely immersive. The worldbuilding in this story flows like rain flowing to the ocean. Every detail was imagined, and it coalesced into a much greater picture of the history, city planning, and generally the Teixcalaani. There were no moments in which the detailing was off that it threw me out of the story.

“A MIND is a sort of star-chart in reverse: an assembly of memory, conditioned response, and past action held together in a network of electricity and endocrine signaling, rendered down to a single moving point of consciousness”

The story follows the protagonist Mahit Dzmare. She arrives as an ambassador to the imperial city of Teixclaan as a representative of the space station Lsel. She is to advocate on behalf of her fiercely independent homeland of Lsel Station and investigate the previous ambassador's death. The Teixcalaani is a glorious golden empire that swallows and changes everything it touches. It is beautiful to behold, but so much so that places like Lsel Station will get swallowed by its magnitude. Mahit is new to her ambassadorial duties, although she has studied the Teixclaan culture, language, and history for most of her life. But studying something and living it are two very different things. She must figure out a way to protect her small homeworld's independence in the face of everything.

Martine does an excellent job in representing the feelings of Mahit being a stranger in a strange land. Everything is foreign to Mahit, right down to customs of facial expressions and food. She desperately needs to belong and assimilate into this foreign culture, but she can't because she is missing a critical piece of information. One of the important pieces of hardware that the people of Lsel station use is a device called an imago. The device is the memory and personality of people who have come before her, saved as data to be re-downloaded. It is used so that none of the experiences and aptitude of the Lsel citizens is lost at the death of the person. The experience is then added to the new wearer, and the personalities are blended.
Nothing is lost. But, for Mahit her imago is malfunctioning. The previous ambassador's memory and experiences are gone. She is a fish out of water. Without the experiences and knowledge of her predecessor, how is she supposed to do this?

As befits her station, Mahit is assigned a cultural liaison named Three Seagrass. The naming conventions in this story are spectacular. While not the main protagonist of the story, three Seagrass is hugely important to the narrative and often steals the scenes with her wit and systematic efficiency. She is brutally efficient. As Mahit surfs the political intrigue of the city Teixclaan and its people must not pull her under.

“I could have told her the truth,” Mahit said. “Here I am, new to the City, being led astray by my own cultural liaison and a stray courtier.” Twelve Azalea folded his hands together in front of his chest. “We could have told her the truth,” he said. “Her friend, the dead Ambassador, has mysterious and probably illegal neurological implants.” “How nice for us, that everyone lies,” Three Seagrass said cheerfully.”

A lot is going on in this book. Right from the get-go, Mahit is thrown into a world of political intrigue. This book is called a space opera, but the genre title is misleading, as it often is. Space operas are usually around space battles, often having a plucky captain or a quest to save the universe. I love the genre, but I don't consider this to be a space opera.

Instead, A Memory Called Empire is a deep science fiction story that asks questions on the nature of memory. What is memory? Can it be taken away? Is memory the collective history of a rich culture like that of the Teixcalaani people or a moment of a single individual? It can be so many things. Simultaneously, while A Memory Called Empire delves into what memory is, it also has a complicated mystery plot of “who done it” laced with wordplay, culture, and political intrigue. There are even cyberpunk elements laced into the story, which is hard to believe, but they work with the narrative perfectly.

The plotting of the story is swift. It moves from scene to scene with no lag and propels the narrative forward. Honestly, the story just got better and better as it continued.

“Nothing touched by Empire stays clean.”

A Memory Called Empire had me stopping and evaluating my thoughts on what memory actually is many times. It is a story that can be taken in sips or devoured for hours at a time. It is glorious and shining like the golden city of Teixcalaani. It has made me remember why I love science fiction as much as I do.

For all those readers who love deep, well-written, and intelligent science fiction and fantasy, A Memory Called Empire should leapfrog all other books on your to-be-read list for your immediate attention.

Thank you to Angela Mann for providing me with a copy in return for my review!

In the Shadow Garden by Liz Parker was the perfect novel to tuck into on an autumn night with a coffee in hand. It is a story that is not light and airy. Instead, it embraces some of the darker themes of literature with a perfect blend of storytelling, the supernatural, and the strength gardeners know of plants that reach through the rich dark soil toward the light.

“Stalks of basil to keep the evil eye at bay. A head of broccoli to heal the body. A bunch of cilantro to mend the soul. Three tomatoes for passion in the bedroom. A cucumber to keep that passion from burning a relationship to the ground. The finishing touch— one piece of fruit from the shadow garden to amplify it all.”

The story is about a power struggle in a small town between two prominent families whose roots go deep. The Haywood and Bonner families could not be more different. One is a high and mighty whiskey manufacturer, the other a family of witches, and the tension between them simmers for decades. Still, this story starts with the death of the Bonner Patriarch and the return of the Bonner prodigal son after 25 years. His return is met by a community that barely remembers him, so much so that it edges on the bizarre.

The Haywood side of town can take the darkest emotions from people and settle them into the ground, essentially feeding The Shadow Garden, their garden. They are three generations of witches who will meddle if asked to. But their magic starts to go haywire as well. What follows is a “who done it and why” that delves deep into the very root of things 25 years ago and what happened on that fateful summer in 1997.

I loved the juxtaposition of this high and mighty whiskey family and this Earthy family of witches. They couldn't be more different, and their hate could not be stronger. Their stories intertwine and involve magic, gardens, history, and love.

In the Shadow Garden was a whiskey-soaked story that was exciting as it is lyrically beautiful. There are second chances to be had, even for families like The Haywoods and the Bonners.

An ARC was provided by the author in exchange for an open and honest review. Quotes are taken from an uncorrected ARC and may change upon publication.

“Bianca is the most unusual person I have ever met.”
Excerpt from The City in the Middle of the Night by Charlie Jane Anders

The land bakes, or freezes depending on where you are. Human ingenuity and creativity have completely stagnated. Once cutting edge technologies ten generations ago, have now begun to fail. Cities that are separated by almost pathless land have become mythical and divided on the governance of their citizens. While political and societal upheaval shakes the foundations of the city, Xiosphanti, people begin to rage at their cog-like existence in the dying machine of their city while ecological disaster looms in the distance.

Sophie, a student from a more impoverished background, plods day to day at her wealthy school. She is attracted to Bianca, her roommate, who comes from the upper class and is in a different social stratosphere than her. This attraction shared between the two of them emboldens Sophia to take the fall for some of Bianca's more questionable choices and thus starts Sophie's path as either a savior or her undoing.

The name Charlie Jane Anders is synonymous with excellent writing and incredible world building. Her previous works: All The Birds in the Sky, Six Months Three Days, Rick Manning Goes for Broke as well as few others have garnered her a Nebula Award for Best Novel, a Hugo award for Best Novelette as well as a smattering of others. Anders has significant science fiction writing cred. With all that being said I had gigantic hopes and excitement for this book, and sadly it fell flat for me.

There is a whole lot of good in this book. Anders is a master world builder and she created a unique world system complete with politics, races, gender identity, sociology, and a rich colonial history. She also interwove prominent environmental concerns and adaption into her world system. Ander's has a unique approach that I appreciate as a reader. Instead of just saying, “it was blindingly hot.” She talks about environmental and architectural adaptation to a world with no definitive circadian rhythm and how that can play mary hell with humans ability to mentally rest and physically sleep.

“The video cuts out. I'm left staring at empty space, feeling sorrow for a woman who died a long time ago, one way or another.”
Excerpt from The City in the Middle of the Night by Charlie Jane AndersThe world bisects into light and dark. The light side is scorching and blinding while the dark side never sees the light. It has a complete lack of warmth. It reminds me a bit of that scene from “The Chronicles of Riddick” where they are trying to escape the underground prison, and as the sun starts moving across the landscape, the ground explodes from the heat. This is pretty cool when you describe an entire society based around the presence of too much or too little warmth. The impending doom of the cities due to much imperialism. To much rigid control. The reader knows that the end is coming, but not how.Each character has a definitive voice. I never once got confused about who was talking or how they were feeling about a situation. I loved peeking into the minds of the main characters: Sophia, Bianca, and Mouth. Each viewed the world very differently and how, by the end of the book, each character has changed in their way is bittersweet. Sophia comes into her own while other characters show their true colors.The relationships and interactions between the main characters were hard to read but ultimately became a source of strength for the writing. Bianca is a classic character of privilege. She floats through life and dabbles in politics or other things that tickle her proverbial fancy while not reaping the consequences of her actions. At the same time, Bianca abuses by Sophie. Sophie gives her chance after chance while Bianca ultimately does not deserve her. In the end, Sophie finally sees the true Bianca. How she will never develop emotionally, nor will she see past herself or her wants and desires for something greater.I am giving this book a lower rating, and it has everything to do with pacing. This story is slow. So much so that I almost DNF. I kept waiting for the story to pick up and get going, and it did at about page 250 or so. But during the first 250 pages, I was waiting on any inertia to start the characters moving towards their outcomes. Ultimately the ending of the story saved the story and tied everything together. In the end, this is an impressive character study and example of worldbuilding however the pace of the story made it very difficult to read for me.

C.L. Polk's lovely Even Though I Knew the End is a beautiful way to spend the afternoon. To describe, Even Though I Knew the End, you take one part supernatural thriller, one part hard-boiled same-spade detective story, and one part queer romance dash in a bit of the late 1930s-1940s in Chicago, and you have it.

“I never told her how she had saved me. I never told her how she became the dearest friend I'd ever had. I told her I loved her, but never enough. My Edith of the sparrows. My heart. My world.”

The main protagonist is an “exiled augur, Helen, who sold her soul to save her brother's life and is offered one last job before serving an eternity in hell.” Because of her choice, she lost everything. Now, she makes ends meet by working various investigative jobs that require her unique skill set. She has found true love in Edith, who softens Helen's rough edges. They fit together like a matched pair. It is charming and authentic, and I loved every moment of it.

The great thing about this story is that Polk has left it open for more books. This book and these stories are not enough for one helping; Polk needs to bring them out again and again.