Tag: Seanan McGuire Page 3 of 8

Across the Green Grass Fields by Seanan McGuire: The Sixth Wayward Children Novel is a Let-Down

Across the Green Grass Fields

Across the Green Grass Fields

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Wayward Children, #6

Hardcover, 174pg.
Tor, 2021

Read: January 25-26, 2021
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

Regan slowed again, suddenly eager for her journey to take as long as possible. Maybe that was why the shape in the nearby growth caught her eye, and she stopped abruptly, sending a pebble clattering into the creek as she cocked her head and blinked at what was surely a trick of the light.

Two trees had grown around each other, branches tangling and twisting like the wicker of a basket. They looped in and out of one another’s embrace, until they formed what looked almost like a doorway. That was interesting, but not unique; branches often grew together, and the shapes they made in the process could be remarkably architectural. She’d seen castles in the trees when she was little, castles and dragons and all manner of fabulous things.

But she’d never seen a doorway before.

What’s Across the Green Grass Fields About?

Regan is ten-years-old when she finds this doorway, but we meet her when she’s a little younger. We see her making regrettable, entirely predictable (and understandable) mistakes when it comes to friendship, the kind of mistakes that shape her social future in ways she can’t imagine. We readers cringe, hope she’d make better choices, and then just wait to see how bad the damage is going to be when she realizes (probably too late) that she’s befriended and trusted the wrong sort of person. Other than that mistake, she seems like a sweet girl, she loves horses and riding, her family, and her friend.

The day after she learns something devastating from her parents, she learns that lesson about trust the hard way and runs away from school into the less-developed area between her school and home.

As children do in this series, she walks through that doorway and finds herself in a new world. The first person she meets (a centaur) tells her it’s called The Hoooflands. And she is excited to find a human. Humans arrive in The Hooflands when something is about to happen—when something that is plaguing their society will be confronted and defeated by the human (who have thumbs and can fit in places a centaur can’t, so there are two big advantages for the human).

But first, the centaur takes Regan to meet her family. And then years pass. She matures, she sees the errors she made in trusting the wrong people on Earth. She picks up skills, she learns who she is. Yes, she misses her family, but this is home to her and she’s content.

The Hooflands

…and there were people. Centaurs like the ones Regan knew. More delicate centaurs with the lower bodies of graceful deer and the spreading antlers to match. Satyrs and fauns and minotaurs and bipeds with human torsos but equine legs and haunches, like centaurs that had been clipped nearly in half. It was a wider variety of hooved humanity that Regan could have imagined.

On the one hand, I really like this world—of all the worlds on other sides of doors that we’ve visited in this series, it seems more viable than any of them (except maybe for maybe The Goblin Market), it takes a little less suspension of disbelief to see how the world works (once you accept the population, anyway).

At the same time…there’s something about this society that I don’t understand how it functions at all given the way that other species see each other. Obviously, this is a not-at-all-thinly-veiled metaphor for our society, but even metaphors should have some sort of air of believability. Maybe it’s just me, but every time that came up, it took me out of the story for a bit, because I couldn’t understand how the world functions (set aside justice and morality, I’m talking just in terms of practicality). It’d take too long to flesh this out, so I won’t. But it bugged me.

The individual people we spend time with in The Hooflands? Loved ’em.  They’re the best characters we’ve met in this series that weren’t connected to the School. I resented how much time McGuire let pass between chapters because I wanted to spend more time with them and to understand the Centaur culture a bit more.

So, what did I think about Across the Green Grass Fields?

It had been more than five years since Regan ran away from school on purpose and ran away from home by mistake.

So begins the endgame for this particular novella, Regan heads off to meet the Queen and do what she was brought to the Hooflands to do once and for all, and then (she assumes) to get her door back home. She doesn’t really want to leave the Hooflands, but circumstances are forcing her hand.

This is the crux of probably my biggest problem with the book—she’s spent five years telling anyone who’ll listen (primarily herself) that she doesn’t believe in Destiny, she won’t bend to Destiny. But in the end, that’s exactly what she does. I’m not going to get into a debate about determinism here, but Regan would be a great Exhibit A for my case if I wanted to.

This is not a subtle book, McGuire has things she wants to say about destiny, about the choices that others make on behalf of others that are just as binding as the choices they make themselves. And she goes about it in a blatant, almost ABC After School Special* manner. And this series is better than that. Or it usually is.

* Readers of a certain age might want to consult with a parent to fully understand that reference

I liked Across the Green Grass Fields, but this is not up to either McGuire’s standard or the standard of The Wayward Children series, and it was far enough short of those high marks that I’m having trouble generating much enthusiasm for it. The language, the storytelling style, the imaginative world were there. But they were overshadowed too frequently for my taste by the rest.

I was disappointed. Hopefully, you’re not, or if you were, it doesn’t put you off from trying the rest of this really wonderful series.

I fully expect (and hope) to see Regan at Eleanor West’s School for Wayward Children in the future and look forward to seeing what happens after she makes her way back home (even if I don’t think it’ll go well for her long-term). I’ll be back for the 2022 novella in this series, eager for what McGuire has in store, confident it won’t be like this.


3.5 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

My Favorite Non-Crime Fiction of 2020

Back when I started this site, I knew the content would be largely “genre”-oriented. I’d have wagered the content would be roughly 1/3 Mystery/Detective fiction, 1/3 Urban Fantasy, and slightly less than 1/3 SFF, with “non-genre” fiction, humor, and non-fiction being enough to make my one-thirds just an approximation (honestly, if you asked me what I read regularly, that’s pretty much how I’d describe it today). Actual numbers show that’s wrong—yes, it’s about 1/3 Crime/Thriller Fiction, but Urban Fantasy has only topped 20% once in the last decade (usually hovering around 15%), SFF combine for about 20%.

Which is just a long-winded way to get to these two points: because Crime Fiction takes such a big chunk of my reading, it gets its own Best-Of list, but none of the others really garner enough numbers for their own. Also? The fact that this list is 50% Urban Fantasy makes me happy. I may not read as much of it as I think that I do, but it clearly resonates with me as much as I think it does.

So much for me 2-3 sentence intro, eh? This might be why it took me 5 days after settling the list to get it posted.

As always, re-reads don’t count (if for no other reason I could just cheat—don’t want to stress out about this list? Easy, each year read 2 Nick Hornby books, a couple of Troppers, Harper Lee, Changes by Butcher…and a couple of other standby’s and recycle the same list every year).

(in alphabetical order by author)

False ValueFalse Value

by Ben Aaronovitch

My original post
After wrapping up the overarching plotline from books 1-7, what do you do for book 8? Something completely different. If you were to draw a Venn diagram with circles for Charles Babbage/Ada Lovelace, Artificial General Intelligence, and Wizardry—the overlap is where you’d False Value. Who wants more? The mix of contemporary cutting-edge technologies and Newtonian magic is just fantastic.

Throw in more Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy references than is healthy and you’ve got yourself a winner.

5 Stars

Amari and the Night BrothersAmari and the Night Brothers

by B. B. Alston

My original post
I’m a tiny bit worried that recency bias got this one on the list. But, I’m not going to lose sleep over it.

This is a delightful story about a young girl from the “wrong” part of Atlanta being recruited by her missing/presumed dead brother into a Hogwarts/MIB mashup, overcoming odds, making friends, saving the day by doing all the sorts of things that young teen protagonists have to do (with a little support from the grown-ups who are supposed to be stopping her), but mostly through grit. The book is written with a sense of joy and hope, while never losing sight of what Amari has to overcome in terms of her own circumstances as well as the specific villainy.

Also, and I can’t stress this enough, there’s a weredragon. What more do you need?

4 Stars

Peace Talks and Battle GroundPeace Talks/Battle Ground

by Jim Butcher

My original Peace Talks post
It wouldn’t be fair to either book to just pick one of the two Dresden Files novels published in 2020, and these were originally written as one book, so this isn’t cheating. I laughed, I giggled, I got scared on behalf of fictional beings (and remain that way), I was awed, I was saddened, and I cried more than once. And I’m not going to think about that last bit anymore, because I have things to today.

They aren’t perfect, I know I’ve said I can’t read these books uncritically, but even I can see a problem or two with these books. But I just don’t care. Those problems don’t even amount to one bean in Rick Blaine’s proverbial hill compared to what I loved about the books.

5 Stars

A Beginning At The EndA Beginning At The End

by Mike Chen

My original post
Chen makes his second appearance on this list in two years (and there’s a pretty good reason to think he’ll return). I’m sure he’d rather have not kicked off 2020 by publishing a novel about a global pandemic in hindsight, but it’s too late for that.

Chen’s trademark appears to be writing non-SF stories in SF settings. As society tries to rebuild itself after most of the world’s population was wiped out, we focus on four people trying to establish some sort of life for themselves. It’s about being trapped and defined by our past, and about making choices to change our present, with hope for the future. Told with heart, wit, and skill—Chen’s characters will grab you and won’t let you go.

I’m not sure these two paragraphs were helpful. Go click the link above and read a few more words about it.

4 1/2 Stars

One ManOne Man

by Harry Connolly

My original post
A PI story in a Fantasy world is becoming enough of a common thing to stop readers in their tracks by itself. Now, you have to make it a good PI story in a Fantasy world. This one works as a Fantasy and a noir PI novel.

A man haunted by his horrible past, just trying to get by, is pushed into a gang war by being in the wrong place at the wrong time and befriending the right little girl in need of an adult looking after her. Intricate magic, elaborate world building, horrible villains, tarnished (at best) heroes. This is a novel to chew on and relish.

4 Stars

Not DressedNot Dressed

by Matthew Hanover

My original post
This is a dollop of sweetness on the other hand. The protagonist (Jake) we have here is in a stagnant (at best) long-term relationship that’s got a couple of pretty big things to work through; and is in a job situation that needs addressing. Then he makes a new friend who quickly becomes the only positive thing in his life. Jake’s life is basically begging to be shaken up, is Kaylee going to help instigate that?

This book is effortless to read. It’s funny, it’s sweet, it’s infectious, it’s engaging as anything I can remember. I cared about these characters and got invested in their lives faster than I typically do. And thinking about them now, over a year after I read the book, still brings a grin to my face.

4 Stars

Ink & SigilInk & Sigil

by Kevin Hearne

My original post
Yes, this is an Iron Druid spinoff and clearly exists in that world. But it’s nothing like an Iron Druid novel. You’ve got a cantakerous, aged, protagonist; fantastically designed and a-typical sidekicks/associates, with a magic system that I don’t has a predecessor in UF. If Aloysius MacBharrais isn’t one of your favorite characters in fiction right now, that’s only because you haven’t met him yet.

And it’s funny. Not to the detriment of action and drama, but filled with laughs. I’m not sure what else to say without going on for another 700+ words, so I’ll just leave it at that (and with the link above).

4 1/2 Stars

QualityLandQualityLand

by Marc-Uwe Kling, Jamie Lee Searle (Translator)

My original post
The most realistic dystopian novel that I can think of. Also the most satiric, which helps you read it without despairing.

The Algorithm runs your life—it gives you what you want and need (even if, especially if, you don’t realize you need/want it), it determines your friends and relationships, it does everything for you but breathe and eat. Please rate it five stars. Or be prepared to suffer the consequences.

And it’s an election year. With an AI-generated candidate facing off against the incumbent. Which proves to be a lot more unpredictable than anyone could guess.

4 Stars

A Killing FrostA Killing Frost

by Seanan McGuire

My original post
The number of on-going arcs that are resolved/permanently altered/kicked off in this one novel is mind-boggling. Particularly since at least one of them I didn’t expect to be really explored until McGuire kicked off her end-game for this series (so, clearly, I know nothing). She drops one of the (probably the) biggest bombs in the series—and keeps on going so much so that it’s not the climax of the novel!

It was a fun, thrilling, emotional ride even ignoring everything I just said. McGuire’s a writing monster, it’s just fun to watch her at work.

4 Stars

The Ghosts of Sherwood and Heirs of LocksleyThe Ghosts of Sherwood/The Heirs of Locksley

by Carrie Vaughn

My original posts are here and here
Like the Butcher books, I couldn’t see mentioning one of this duology (which needs expanding!) without the other, making my Top 10 a Top 14. I have a degree in Liberal Arts you can’t bind me with your mathematics!

These stories about Robin and Marian’s three teen-aged kids just filled me with joy. Vaughn gave us a present in these stories—what happens after Robin and the rest win and then settle down to have a normal life? What becomes of a legend after his work is done?

More interestingly, what’s life like for the kids of a legend? What do you believe about your father (who downplays everything)? What do you do with your life to try to live up to the standard?

4 Stars

Books that almost made the list (links to my original posts): Highfire by Eoin Colfer, Last Stand in Lychford by Paul Cornell, and
Annihilation Aria by Michael R. Underwood (I need to finish my post about this one).

A Killing Frost by Seanan McGuire: McGuire’s Latest Will Satisfy—and Shock—All of Toby’s Fans.

A Killing Frost

A Killing Frost

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Toby Daye, #14

Hardcover, 302 pg.
DAW, 2020

Read: September 9-11, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

…I was about to do something monumentally stupid for the sake of potentially saving Simon.

Simon Torquill. The man I’d once considered to be be my greatest enemy The man I was now willingly risking everything I had for the opportunity to save. Faerie isn’t fair and the world doesn’t make sense.

“You sound scared.” [Danny said]

“I am.”

“If this is somethin’ that scares you…”

What’s A Killing Frost About?

Simon Torquill. Is there any name that promises as much upheaval to Toby Daye’s life as much as his? I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Actually, I could just answer my first question with his name and move on to the next section of this post…

Anyway, Toby takes a break from working with May to find a wedding dress that she a. likes and b. doesn’t mind getting covered in blood—because who are we kidding here, if Toby’s wearing it, it’s going to be covered in blood before the end of the day. She and Tybalt are out on a date, having a perfectly enjoyable time when they’re interrupted by Patrick and Dianda Lorden. The Lordens are worried that Toby’s lack of diplomatic training has opened her up to a problem.

See, if she doesn’t invite Simon Torquill to her wedding—thanks to some silly Faerie custom—she’s liable to create an opportunity for Simon or someone claiming to act on his behalf to attack her in a pretty grievous way. Of course, to invite him, she’s going to have to find him—and after The Brightest Fell, we all know that’s not going to be easy.

So, May, Quentin, Toby and Spike(!) head out to do the nigh-impossible, find Simon and get him to the wedding.

Wither art Thou, Tybalt?

Thanks to a warning from Karen, for everyone to survive, Tybalt can’t accompany Toby on this little quest. This is just about the most Tybalt-free book I can think of (second only to The Brightest Fell). When he’s around, it’s important that he is and he makes a big impact.

It’s strange to have him gone so much, but I think it worked pretty well as a change of pace and heightened the reader’s appreciation for him when he was around.

At one point, [name withheld] describes the relationship between Tybalt and Toby,

It’s clear to anyone with eyes how much he loves you, and I’ve held your blood on my tongue. Your love for him flavors everything you are.

In any other series, that might be disgusting/strange. But in this context? That’s one of the sweetest sentences I can think of.

There’s Just So Much I Can’t Talk About

Because I keep a pretty strict no-spoiler policy to these posts, there’s just so much that I can’t talk about that I really want to. Even if I spoiled things, I couldn’t talk about them too much because we’re going to need a book or five to figure out how things work out. McGuire’s one of the best at planting seeds and then seemingly ignoring them for several books just to have them spring up and bear fruit when you least expect it.

One of those forgotten seeds bears series-altering fruit here while she’s planting seeds relating to Walther and Cassie—but more importantly to Stacy. There’s a shattering scene with Luna and Sylvester. There’s something afoot with Rayseline, too. August does something surprising. Amandine’s furious by the end of the novel (that can’t be good). And we learn something blood-curdling about Eira Rosynhwyr that might make an enraged Amandine seem trivial.

And then there’s…yeah, you know what? I just can’t even hint at the rest. Go read it and we can talk.

So, what did I think about A Killing Frost?

This is not a book designed to welcome new readers to the series. I’m sure there’s enough to draw in someone who’s said to themselves, “I keep hearing about this series, I wonder what it’s about?” But really, it’s not a great entry point. If you’re one of those readers, drop a comment and I’ll try to give you a better entry point.

But for readers of this series? They’re going to be in hog-heaven. Take out all of the spoiler stuff I alluded to/avoided above, and you’ve got yourself a great Toby adventure, full of thrills, twists, grievous wounds, nasty curses, and heroism of all sorts.

Include the stuff I didn’t talk about? You’ve got a jaw-dropping novel full of so many heart-warming and heart-wrenching moments that it’d be hard to enumerate them. This isn’t McGuire’s best novel in the series, but it’s great. And fans will be discussing, dissecting and reveling in it for years.


4 1/2 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Imaginary Numbers by Seanan McGuire: The Most Exciting Mathematician This Side of Charlie Eppes and Dr. Larry Fleinhardt

Imaginary Numbers

Imaginary Numbers

by Seanan McGuire
Series: InCryptid, #9

Mass Market Paperback, 365 pg.
DAW Books, 2020

Read: June 16-19, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

What’s Imaginary Numbers About?

The Price’s cousin, Sarah, the Johrlac (aka “cuckoo”) adopted by the family years ago and last really seen in Midnight Blue-Light Special—but mentioned in almost/every book since—has finally recovered from the events of that book (5 years ago, in the series chronology), or at least recovered enough to travel on her own. She’s still not at 100% (and is further from it than anyone but Sarah realizes).

She flies out to Portland to reconnect with the family out there, and while she does reconnect with the Prices, she also finds herself connecting to a bunch of other cuckoos. Which is something that the species just doesn’t do—these telepathic apex predators have developed in such a way that they can’t share territory for long at all. So the fact that you have a group of them working together spells trouble for Sarah and any cryptozoologists trying to keep the peace between the species (and, in this case, to preserve a spot for every species that isn’t a Johrlac to live).

That’s a little brief, but I don’t know how else to be.

Imaginary Numbers’ Place in the Series

It’s been five years in series’ time, seven years and seven novels in our timeline, since we spent any real time with Sarah. I remember really liking her as a character for the first two books and couldn’t believe McGuire would do what she did to her so soon out of the gate for the series. But over the years, as she’s been largely “off screen” recovering, I’ve pretty much forgotten everything about her and what made her click for me as a character. I remembered enough to understand what a big deal it was for Sarah and Artie to see each other and to be say all they needed to say. But beyond that…it’d just been too long for me. Maybe if I’d re-read Midnight Blue-Light Special recently (or ever), this wouldn’t have been a problem.

This is our fourth narrator (fourth plus? There’s a lot of this book not narrated by Sarah) in this series, and like most fans, I’ve embraced that as a feature and as a strength. But this one feels more like a sequel to the Annie books (the previous three novels) than we usually get with a narrator switch. There’s a direct connection between the events of Verity’s Chaos Choreography and Annie’s Magic for Nothing, and all the other books show an awareness of the others. But the cast from <‘b>That Ain’t Witchcraft is present and accounted for here, and Imaginary Numbers is happening in its shadow. This isn’t good bad or indifferent, it just gives this book a different vibe than I’m used to in this series.

And the way this ends is pretty different, too—McGuire hasn’t given us a cliffhanger (this is a pretty complete story, thankfully) before. It’s a good one, but, again, not something I’m used to in these books.

One of the advantages of the way this series is set up is that it can do things like this—each book, or each “set” of books*, can take on a different flavor, a different way of approaching the story, a different way to fit in the series, a different way to end a book. While all being part of a larger, overarching story. But there are some dangers with this approach, too. And right now I’m not sure what to think of the Sarah set’s approach.

* The initial “Verity” set, the “Alex” set, then the three “Annie”s and now, two (at least) “Sarah”s, I’m not sure how to group the Verity novel between the Alex and Annie sets.

Hail, Aeslin Mice!

There was much rejoicing here (and I’m betting among all fans) that the Aeslin Mice were back in these pages. If we took nothing else from their absence in the last two books, it’s just how important they are for the telling of these stories—they’re far more than comic relief (although they are that), and for me, the best emotional moments of this particular novel came from them.

So, what did I think about Imaginary Numbers?

I liked it, but not as much as I expected to, not as much as I wanted to. There was just so much space devoted to getting everyone caught up with Sarah (and reminding us who she was/what happened to her). Then another big chunk explaining Jorlacs—and then there was another exposition dump when the Johrlacs explained what was going on to Sarah (and then another chunk when it was explained to the Prices). Just so much talking that it felt like the story got pushed out of the way.

Based on the way this ended, I’m not sure I can actually say what I thought about the book. I might have to wait until the end of Calculated Risks. Still, I enjoyed it. I like this world, I like the characters. McGurie writes a good book, and is probably incapable of writing anything but.


3.5 Stars

20 Books of Summer

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

Top 5 Saturday: Sibling Relationships

Top 5 Saturday Sibling Relationships

The Top 5 Saturday weekly meme was created by Amanda at Devouring Books.

Rules!

  • Share your top 5 books of the current topic—these can be books that you want to read, have read and loved, have read and hated, you can do it any way you want.
  • Tag the original post (This one!)
  • Tag 5 people (I probably won’t do this bit, play along if you want)

This week’s topic is: Sibling Relationships. If the Weasley family doesn’t immediately spring to mind once you think about siblings, there might be something broken in your mind—ditto for the Pevensies. But I wouldn’t let myself use them. The more I wrote in this list, the more relationships came to mind that I don’t have space for–that’s very annoying (a lot of fun, too), I hate to leave some of these off. I don’t know why I didn’t grab sibling relationships that are more than a pair (the aforementioned groups, the Spellmans or Tropper’s Altmans would’ve worked)—I’m assuming it’s because I had one sibling myself, so I tend to think of pairs rather than 3+?

Sibling relationships are tricky to depict—they’re all a little different, but there are some typical aspects. There’s a shared history (even if individuals react pretty differently to them, and remember them differently); jealousy/rivalry—usually tempered by some sort of affection and loyalty; usually a bit of reflexive self-sacrifice (frequently malgré lui); and a kind of honesty you don’t get from anyone else.


Raistlin and Caramon Majere

from: Dragonlance Chronicles, Dragonlance Legends
by
Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman

This is the first sibling relationship that really sticks out at me (post-juvenile fiction, anyway). They need each other (in healthy and unhealthy ways), but really don’t like each other. There’s a love and a bond that’s nigh-unbreakable, don’t get me wrong, but man…Raistlin treats his brother like trash. I remember regularly being so upset with him for that (and a little bit now just thinking about it), but Caramon keeps coming back for it. He never gives up on his twin. Even when—especially when—he absolutely should. It’s a nuanced and complex relationship and is likely one that I judge many other fictional representations by.

Side note: I really need to re-read the first couple of Dragonlance trilogies.


Jack and Jill Wolcott

from: Wayward Children
by
Seanan McGuire

(art by Rovina Cai)
While I do wonder if McGuire had come back to this well one time too many in this series, there’s clearly something about this fractured relationship (huh, another set of twins, with one more to come…didn’t mean to do that) that clearly resonates with readers and the author. If there’s anything healthy in their relationship when we first meet them, it’s gone by the most recent volume—but they’re the textbook definition of inextricably linked. To their detriment, yes, but that’s beside the point. Fascinating pair.


Scout and Jem Finch

from: To Kill a Mockingbird
by
Harper Lee

Scout worships her brother (doesn’t stop her from being frustrated with him frequently) and Jem’s clearly devoted and protective of her. I’ve loved reading about these two since I first met them in Mme. Dobbs’ English class* in high school and I’ll probably love it for the rest of my life. They’re not ideal, but they’re pretty close.

* she also taught my French class, so I reflexively think of her with that title)


Doug and Clair Parker

from: How to Talk to a Widower
by
Jonathan Tropper

Alas, I don’t have a picture of them—Tropper doesn’t inspire a lot of fan art. Yeah, Doug and Clair’s relationship echoes any number of the sibling relationships in Topper’s work. This is honestly the first pair that jumped to mind when I compiled this list. The honesty, the humor, the prodding/pushing, and care between the two is one of the best parts of this novel (probably my favorite of his). Great interplay between the two. Neither Doug or Clair remind me of my sister or myself individually, but for some reason, their relationship made me think about our relationship.


Harry Dresden and Thomas Wraith

from: Dresden Files
by
Jim Butcher

(art by Mika-Blackfield)
Sure, these two weren’t aware of each other for most of their lives, so their shared history has only to do with their mother. Still, the bond, the love, the loyalty that everyone thinks of when it comes to brothers is perfectly depicted with these two. They’re probably my favorite sibling pair that’re still being written about—I just hope they both survive ’til the end.

Come Tumbling Down by Seanan McGuire: Jack and Jill’s Final (?) Showdown in the Moors

Come Tumbling Down

Come Tumbling Down

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Wayward Children, #5

Hardcover, 206 pg.
Tor Books, 2020

Read: January 8-10, 2020
Grab a copy from your local indie bookstore!

Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children was an island of misfit toys, a place to put the unfinished stories and the broken wanderers who could butcher a deer and string a bow but no longer remembered what to do with indoor plumbing. It was also, more importantly, a holding pen for heroes. Whatever they might have become when they’d been cast out of their chosen homes, they’d been heroes once, each in their own ways. And they did not forget.

I wanted to do an Opening Lines post for this book, but I couldn’t decide where to stop—maybe around page 6 (which is a little too long for that kind of post). Seriously, it took less than a page for me to fall in love with this book.

It’s a typical day at Eleanor West’s School for Wayward Children (assuming such a thing exists) when a door appears, but instead of someone getting to go to their “home,” two figures emerge. One is a complete stranger, the other is Jack. Well, sort of. Close enough for our purposes here.

Things on the Moors have gotten to a crisis point where only one of the Wolcott twins can survive—Jack or Jill. Jill has struck first and things are dire. Jack recruits a couple of her friends and classmates to return with her (she was relatively certain she could return them to the school) to aid her in confronting her sister. They used to be heroes, they will be heroes again—as often as needed—much to Eleanor’s chagrin.

Once in the Moors, a dark and nasty place to be sure, dangers that no one (save maybe Jack) could’ve predicted present themselves and threaten the lives of the students in horrible and chilling ways. Culminating in what appears to be a final encounter for the sisters.

I love the way that McGuire writes these books, and Come Tumbling Down is no exception. It is full of the typical whimsical, fantastic and nigh-poetic language and ideas. If you’ve read a Wayward Children book before, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t . . . it’s hard to tell you. Here’s a sample or two:

“This is terrible . . . I mean we knew it was going to be trouble . . . but this is bonus terrible. This is the awful sprinkles on the sundae of doom.”

“A little knowledge never hurt anybody,” said Sumi.

“Perhaps not. But a great deal of knowledge can do a great deal of harm, and I’m long past the point of having only a little knowledge.”

Sumi was Sumi. Spending time with her was like trying to form a close personal relationship with a cloud of butterflies. Pretty—dazzling, even—but not exactly companionable. And some of the butterflies had knives, and that was where the metaphor collapsed.

Jill had always been the more dangerous, less predictable Wolcott, for all that she was the one who dressed in pastel colors and lace and sometimes remembered that people like it when you smiled. Something about the way she’d wrapped her horror move heart in ribbons and bows had reminded him of a corpse that hadn’t been properly embalmed like she was pretty on the outside and rotten on the inside. Terrifying and subtly wrong.

“wrapped her horror movie heart in ribbons and bows” is pretty much worth the purchase price of the book.

I’m glad that I enjoy—relish, really—the language like I do, because there’s not a lot of plot or action here. There’s enough, but there’s an awful lot of talk both around and before the action really gets underway. That’s not a wholly bad thing, and I enjoyed all of it, it just seemed self-indulgent.

It felt to me that McGuire’s reached the point of diminishing returns with this one, it’s been one too many trips to the Moors and it’s time for other Wayward Children to get the focus. Thankfully, that seems to be the plan.

I don’t think this would be a great introduction to this series (but it would function okay that way) if you’re not going to read them all in order, I feel safe in saying that it needs to be read after Down Among the Sticks and Bones. This is a good way to return to the world and revisit some of these characters. I can’t wait to see what happens in the next volume.


4 Stars

This post contains an affiliate link. If you purchase from it, I will get a small commission at no additional cost to you. As always, opinions are my own.

My Favorite Non-Crime Fiction of 2019

Like last year, while trying to come up with a Top 10 this year, I ran into a small problem (at least for me). Crime/Thriller/Mystery novels made up approximately half of the novels I read this year and therefore dominated the candidates. So, I decided to split them into 2 lists—one for Crime Fiction and one for Everything Else. Not the catchiest title, I grant you, but you get what you pay for.

These are my favorites, the things that have stuck with me in a way others haven’t—not necessarily the best things I read (but there’s a good deal of overlap, too). But these ten entertained me or grabbed me emotionally unlike the rest.

Anyway…I say this every year, but . . . Most people do this in mid-December or so, but a few years ago (before this blog), the best novel I read that year was also the last. Ever since then, I just can’t pull the trigger until January 1. Also, none of these are re-reads, I can’t have everyone losing to books that I’ve loved for 2 decades that I happened to have read this year.

Enough blather…on to the list.

(in alphabetical order by author)

A Man Called OveA Man Called Ove

by Fredrik Backman, Henning Koch (Translator)

My original post
I’ve been telling myself every year since 2016 that I was going to read all of Backman’s novels after falling in love with his My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry. The closest I got was last year when I read his first novel, A Man Called Ove (and nothing else). It’s enough to make me resolve to read more of them, and soon. The story of an old, grumpy widower befriending (against his will, I should stress) a pretty diverse group of his neighbors. It’s more than that thumbnail, but I’m trying to be brief. The story was fairly predictable, but there’s something about the way that Backman put it together that makes it perfect. And even the things you see coming will get you misty (if not elicit actual tears).

5 Stars

Dark AgeDark Age

by Pierce Brown

My original post
When I started reading this, I was figuring that Pierce Brown’s Red Rising Saga was on the downward trend. Boy, was I wrong. Dark Age showed me that time after time after time after time . . . Entertaining, occasionally amusing, stress-inducing, heart-wrenching, flat-out captivating. It was brutal and beautiful and I can’t believe I doubted Brown for a minute.

5 Stars

Here and Now and ThenHere and Now and Then

by Mike Chen

My original post
One of the best Time Travel stories I’ve ever read, but it’s so much more—it’s about fatherhood, it’s about love, it’s about friendship. Heart, soul, laughs, and heartbreak—I don’t know what else you want out of a time travel story. Or any story, really. Characters you can like (even when they do things you don’t like), characters you want to know better, characters you want to hang out with after the story (or during it, just not during the major plot point times), and a great plotline.

4 1/2 Stars

Seraphina's LamentSeraphina’s Lament

by Sarah Chorn

My original post
Chorn’s prose is as beautiful as her world is dark and disturbing. This Fantasy depicts a culture’s collapse and promises the rebirth of a world, but getting there is rough. Time and time again while reading this book, I was struck by how unique, how unusual this experience was. As different as fantasy novels tend to be from each other, by and large, most of them feel the same as you read it (I guess that’s true of all genres). But I kept coming back to how unusual this feels compared to other fantasies I’ve read. The experience of reading Seraphina’s Lament isn’t something I’ll forget any time soon.

4 1/2 Stars

No Country for Old GnomesNo Country for Old Gnomes

by Delilah S. Dawson and Kevin Hearne

My original post
Having established their off-kilter world, strong voice, and approach to the stories of Pell, Dawson and Hearne have come back to play in it. The result is superior in every way that I can think of. I lost track of how many times I said to myself while reading something along the lines of, “how did they improve things this much?” These books are noted (as I’ve focused on) for their comedy—but they’re about a lot more than comedy. The battle scenes are exciting. The emotional themes and reactions are genuine and unforced. And tragedy hits hard. It’s easy to forget in the middle of inspiring moments or humorous aftermaths of battle that these kind of novels involve death and other forms of loss—and when you do forget, you are open to getting your heart punched.

(but mostly you laugh)

4 1/2 Stars

Twenty-one Truths About LoveTwenty-one Truths About Love

by Matthew Dicks

My original post
It’s an unconventionally told story about a man figuring out how to be a businessman, husband, and father in some extreme circumstances. The lists are the star of the show, but it’s the heart behind them that made this novel a winner.

5 Stars

State of the UnionState of the Union: A Marriage in Ten Parts

by Nick Hornby

My original post
This series of brief conversations held between a married couple just before their marriage counseling sessions. At the end of the day, this is exactly what you want from a Nick Hornby book (except the length—I wanted more, always): funny, heartfelt, charming, (seemingly) effortless, and makes you feel a wide range of emotions without feeling manipulated. I loved it, I think you will, too.

4 1/2 Stars

The SwallowsThe Swallows

by Lisa Lutz

My original post
This is not my favorite Lutz novel, but I think it’s her best. It has a very different kind of humor than we got in The Spellman Files, but it’s probably as funny as Lutz has been since the third book in that series—but deadly serious, nonetheless. Lutz puts on a clinic for naturally shifting tone and using that to highlight the important stories she’s telling. From the funny and dark beginning to the perfect and bitingly ominous last three paragraphs The Swallows is a winner. Timely and appropriate, but using tropes and themes that are familiar to readers everywhere, Lutz has given us a thrilling novel for our day—provocative, entertaining, and haunting. This is one of those books that probably hews really close to things that could or have happened and you’re better off hoping are fictional.

5 Stars

PostgraduatePostgraduate

by Ian Shane

My original post
This has the general feel of Hornby, Tropper, Norman, Weiner, Russo (in his lighter moments), Perrotta, etc. The writing is engaging, catchy, welcoming. Shane writes in a way that you like reading his prose—no matter what’s happening. It’s pleasant and charming with moments of not-quite-brilliance, but close enough. Shane’s style doesn’t draw attention to itself, if anything, it deflects it. It’s not flashy, but it’s good. The protagonist feels like an old friend, the world is comfortable and relaxing to be in (I should stress about 87.3 percent of what I know about radio comes from this book, so it’s not that). This belongs in the same discussion with the best of Hornby and Tropper—it’s exactly the kind of thing I hope to read when I’m not reading a “genre” novel (I hate that phrase, but I don’t know what else to put there).

4 1/2 Stars

The Bookish Life of Nina HillThe Bookish Life of Nina Hill

by Abbi Waxman

My original post
This is a novel filled with readers, book nerds and the people who like (and love) them. There’s a nice story of a woman learning to overcome her anxieties to embrace new people in her life and heart with a sweet love story tagged on to it. Your mileage may vary, obviously, but I can’t imagine a world where anyone who reads my blog not enjoying this novel and protagonist. It’s charming, witty, funny, touching, heart-string-tugging, and generally entertaining. This is the only book on this particular list that I know would’ve found a place on a top ten that included Crime Novels as well, few things made me as happy in 2019 as this book did for a few hours (and in fleeting moments since then as I reflect on it).

5 Stars

Books that almost made the list (links to my original posts): Not Famous by Matthew Hanover, Circle of the Moon by Faith Hunter, Maxine Unleashes Doomsday by Nick Kolakowski, In an Absent Dream by Seanan McGuire, The Rosie Result by Graeme Simsion, and Lingering by Melissa Simonson

The Unkindest Tide by Seanan McGuire: The Luidaeg takes Center Stage in this Water-filled Adventure

The Unkindest Tide

The Unkindest Tide

by Seanan McGuire

Series: Toby Daye, #13

Hardcover, 301 pg.
DAW Books, 2019

Read: September 10-11, 2019

I finally took my eyes off the water, peering at her through the disheveled curtain of my hair. “Are you just babbling at me until I start feeling better?”

“Yup!” Marcia beamed. “Is it working?”

My stomach was no longer roiling. I didn’t trust myself to stand up on my own, but I also didn’t feel like I was about to introduce the barnacles to my breakfast. Again. I blinked. “Actually, yes.”

“Sometimes you need to take peoples’ minds off their problems if you want those problems to resolve themselves,” said Marcia. “Focusing on things can make them worse.”

“Not all problems go away if you ignore them. Most don’t.”

“No, but not all problems can be fixed. Sometimes you have to wait until the situation changes.” She smiled sympathetically. “Like if you’re on a boat and you get seasick.”

Yup. Toby’s on a boat—a sailing ship, to be precise—just the place for someone who hates water. Why is she there? Well, that has something to do with the debt she owes the Luidaeg. The Luidaeg has decided that time is up and it’s now time to pay that mysterious bill she told the Selkies was coming due. And Toby has to come along to help her collect. A couple of months ago, when I listened to the audiobook of One Salt Sea, I wondered what happened to that ominous future event, so that was nice to see. On the other hand, we’re told that this was nearly three years ago, which means it takes only three-ish years for books 6-12 to occur? That’s an eventful life right there.

Because they’re apt to be useful, and because Toby isn’t likely to come nicely without them, the Luidaeg also brings Tybalt and Quentin along on their trip to the Duchy of Ships, where a convocation of Selkies will be held to pay this bill. Due to the significance of this happening, a few other dignitaries come, too—delegations from the Kingdom of the Mists, the Duchy of Saltmist, and Goldengreen—oh, and Gillian (which makes sense for people who’ve read the previous book, Night and Silence).

So we’ve got a group of Toby’s friends, a new Duchy for most of them to visit, a bunch of debts the Luidaeg is collecting, and the fate of an entire race in the balance. What could go wrong?

Naturally, that’s the wrong question. SOmething better to ask is: how many pints of blood will Toby lose while trying to fix what goes wrong and how many others will die? Obviously, I’m not going to answer those, but we need to get our thinking straight.

Something I want to mention before I forget: Before the Sea Witch shows up at her door, Toby’s narration gives a very thorough and succinct recap of the entire series (one of the best of those I’ve read lately, it’s a tricky thing to accomplish) before noting

…there’s a lot of history around here, and sometimes it doesn’t summarize very well.

It’s a small thing, but it made me smile—McGuire excels at those.

The Luidaeg has got to be just about the most popular character in this series, and we really get to know her so much better here than we have before—and it made me so happy to see this. I’d gladly take another Luidaeg-centric book or three any day of the week. Seeing her at this turning point in all her power and all her grief is just stunning. I don’t think I’d ever felt bad for her (at least not for long), but watching her being resolute in carrying out the duty she was bound to here—while clearly not wanting to go through with it—was moving. Early in the book, there’s a scene between her and a little girl that just about broke my heart. At the same time, she has plenty of great lines and made me chuckle a lot, too. Her interactions with Quentin (and vice versa) might be my favorite parts of the book.

The Luidaeg/Selkie story was strong enough that I don’t care so much about the rest of the book, which is good, because I think it’s one of her weakest. There’s an adventure in Saltmist that seemed pretty perfunctory and while the ending is very clever—and gives Toby a chance to embrace the technicalities of Faerie in a way she usually doesn’t (that is, keeping the letter of the law, but doing a tap dance all around the intent)— it seemed anti-climatic. We have a great build-up and then an almost let-down of a conclusion.

A few quick bullet points that I don’t have the time to expand on (nor do I think I could do them justice without talking too much about them):

  • No one expected, I trust, that things between Toby and Gillian would get better after Night and Silence, but it was tough (yet understandable and believable) to read Gillian’s reactions to Toby here.
  • There are repeated references to the weakness/susceptibility to harm of one member of Toby’s group—McGuire hit that note so often that I really feared for that character. One that I didn’t realize I liked as much as I did when I feared for their safety and longevity.
  • We get to meet another Firstborn! She’s just fantastic and I hope we get to see more of her. Also, the reactions of various members of her descendant races to meeting her in the flesh were priceless.
  • Someone’s blind fosterage is getting harder to maintain. That could prove interesting (and in the Toby-verse, interesting usually is defined as calamitous)
  • Clearly, Toby’s reputation as someone who topples monarchies has spread far and wide. This isn’t good for her, but will be good for us readers.
  • Marcia continues to show more depth and ability than I gave her credit for when we met (which surprises me almost every time we see it)
  • What we’re told about future books here (in terms of Toby’s future obligations) is enough to get long-term readers excited (not that we needed the encouragement, really, but it’s nice to know)

This isn’t one of the best in the series—but it features some of the best moments, scenes, events. It’s not a trade-off I’m entirely pleased with, but I can live with it (and thankfully the good far outweighed the less-good). It’s safe to say that a lot won’t be the same again in this world or for many of these characters. Any time I spend with Toby, Tybalt, Quentin, the Luidaeg, etc. is a good time, and I thoroughly enjoyed the read, I just wanted a bit more from an author who usually brings more than you could realistically ask for.


4 Stars

That Ain’t Witchcraft by Seanan McGuire: Annie at the Crossroads (literally, mystically, metaphorically, and probably a couple of other adverbs, too)

That Ain't WitchcraftThat Ain’t Witchcraft

by Seanan McGuire
Series: InCryptid, #8

Paperback, 357 pg.
Daw Books, 2019
Read: April 24 – 29, 2019

           I didn’t know these woods. I’d never been to Maine before, and [didn’t have any of the family bestiaries to prepare me for what I might find. There are cryptids everywhere in the world, which only makes sense, when you consider “cryptid” means “science doesn‘t know about it yet.” New species are discovered every year, brought into the scientific fold and lifted out of cryptozoological obscurity. These days the word mostly gets used to mean the big stuff some people say is real and other people say is a big hoax, like Bigfeet, unicorns, and the occasional giant snake.

(Always assume the giant snakes are real. The alternative is finding yourself being slowly digested in the belly of something you didn’t want to admit existed, and while I’m as fond of healthy skepticism as the next girl, I’m a lot more fond of continuing to have my original skin. As in, the one I was born with, not the one the snake has left me with after a little recreational swallowing me whole.)

After Annie, Sam, Fern and Cylia leave Florida and the disaster that was left in their wake, they bounce around a little before settling on something that is about as non-Florida as you can get on that side of the country — central Maine. They find a house that needs a tenant for a few months while the owner is off to Europe and settle in to enjoy a time off the roads to regroup, rest and recuperate.

Ahh, such a good idea.

But first, they meet a neighbor, James Smith. It turns out that he’s a sorcerer, who’s itching for a fight with the Crossroads for the way they fulfilled (or didn’t) a deal with a friend of his from a few years’ back. Annie owes the Crossroads something, and it just might come time to pay up — which isn’t good news for James. If that wasn’t enough, Leonard Cunningham — Annie’s Covenant connection and the presumptive future leader of the group comes to town on her tail.

So much for the three R’s.

Annie’s solution to the problems she faces here is so… Annie. On the one hand, this is obvious, she’s a different character than Alex or Verity — and this series has never been the kind where the Price kids are interchangeable. But there is just no way that Verity or Alex would even consider doing what Annie tries. In many ways, she reminded me of Harry Dresden with the way that she dealt with the final problem. No, not by throwing a lot of fire, snark and energy around, but by coming at the problem in a way that you just don’t see coming (although, that’s not ruling out snark and fire) that seems more than a little reckless. Up to that point, Annie and crew had reminded me a lot of Sam and Dean Winchester and their crew.

This was really such a great way to wrap up this Annie arc — it’s going to be hard to put her aside for a book or three. Verity’s a lot of fun, Alex is a great reluctant hero who’d rather be researching things — but Annie? Annie’s really my kind of Urban Fantasy character — in the vein of Dresden, Atticus O’Sullivan, Ree Reyes, etc. And her friends are a lot of fun, too. The only thing this book is missing that’d really make it fantastic are the Aeslin mice — their absence is felt, particularly because Annie can’t stop thinking about them. Of all the things that McGuire has brought into my life, these mice are my favorite — and it’s been too long since I’ve had a decent dose of them.

I’m not sure how to talk about this without digging into details — and I’m this close to tossing out my spoiler policy and pulling an all-nighter to produce 20-30 pages about the InCryptid Dire Straits Trilogy. So much of what makes this book work is as its the culmination of this trilogy-within-the-greater-series. While I don’t think the book is perfect, I don’t remember a single problem I had with it — and felt the same way while reading it. Everything worked — the voice, the characters, the villains, the stakes, the challenges, the solution, the emotions, the quips, the action. I spent a good deal of time unsure how many of Annie’s little group were going to survive, and this isn’t normally that kind of series. I don’t think I actually shed a tear at the height of the novel — they weren’t far from the surface. This met and exceeded every expectation I had for this book and made me rethink my estimation of the series as a whole.

This is easily the best of this very good series — in fact, were this the final book in the series, I’d be satisfied. I’m very, very glad that it isn’t — please don’t misunderstand — but if it were… Heart, humor, thrills, and a very clever conclusion, pulled off in a way that the whole series has been leading to, but you don’t see coming. I don’t know how McGuire can equal it — much less top it. But since we’re talking Seanan McGuire, she will, probably not in book 9, but soon. Go get it — you’ll be better off if you start with #1 (Discount Armageddon), but you could get away with starting at #6 (Magic for Nothing), you can still appreciate a lot of the goodness if you jump on here, but you’ll miss so much you won’t enjoy it the way you could.

—–

5 Stars

In an Absent Dream by Seanan McGuire: Another Wayward Child’s story — magical, enchanting, heartbreaking. You know the drill.

In an Absent DreamIn an Absent Dream

by Seanan McGuire
Series: Wayward Children, #4

Hardcover, 204 pg.
Tor Books, 2018
Read: January 9, 2019

           …the worst she was ever called where anyone might here was “teacher’s pet,” which she took, not as an insult, but rather as a statement of fact. 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.

Here’s a quick recap of this series for those of you who haven’t heard about it yet/have ignored everything I’ve said about the series these last few years: Imagine Children who go off to a magical kingdom for a bit from our world — Narnia, Fillory, the Lands Beyond, Neverland, Lyrian, whatever you call that land on the other side of the fourteenth door in Coraline, etc. — and then return home. Some will go on to live “normal” lives — others can’t forget or outgrow their attachment to the magical world — some of those, those who want more than anything to return to whatever was on the other side of the door wind up at Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children. This series is about some of those children.

There’s a basic outline to these books — McGuire introduces you to a Child and a new world. Her language will be lyrical, playful and enchanting. She’ll draw you in with the awe and wonder and while you’re not looking, she’ll set the hook, and you will be as emotionally tied to her characters as you are close family members*. Then something devastating will happen to those characters, and you will feel horrible, yet love the experience. No matter what kind of resolution is found in the book (death, rescue, brokenness), when you close the book you’ll almost instantly start waiting until the next book comes out, because McGuire is just that good.

In this book we meet Katherine — Katherine’s never been good at making friends her age (there are justifiable reasons for this), but she likes talking to adults more, she likes rules, and she loves reading. There’s something about each Wayward Child that readers can identify with, but Katherine is more relatable to readers than the others have been. One day, Katherine comes upon a tree that hadn’t been there before. This tree had a door in it, and before she realized what was happening — she was on the other side of the door, walking down a hall, on her way to a Goblin Market. In the last book, we saw a nonsense world — this is a logic world, through and through. There are rules, enforced by everyone who lives there — and somehow, by the world itself.

Unlike that (mostly) tongue-in-cheek outline above, each of these books are so different from the rest, it’s hard to compare them — so I’ll try not to. But the structure of this seems more different than the others have. So I’m not going to tell you any more about the plot than I have — I’ll just say it’s a great story, incredibly well told — and even when the narration tells you the ending is not going to be “kind”, you keep expecting/hoping/wanting for things to work out for Katherine and her loved ones.

I’ve made the ending sound bad — it’s not “happy,” but I’m not complaining, I’m not criticizing, I’m most definitely not warning a reader away. It’s the right ending for this story, it’s absolutely how things needed to go — but this is not the Feel-Good Novella of the Year. It is wonderfully written, beautifully written, imaginative, awe-inspiring, delightful, and eventually heartbreaking. McGuire’s one of the best at work today — and this is proof of it.

Yes, you can read these out-of-order — but I don’t recommend it. And hey, were talking 200 pages or less each, you’ve got time for that. You’ll be glad you did (once you stop feeling horrible)


  • That might be a bit hyperbolic.

—–

5 Stars

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