Review of Phoenix Heart: Ashes

Phoenix Heart Episode One #1 Ashes Review Graphic

I’m so pleased to see more books coming out with disabled and chronically ill protagonists these days. Phoenix Heart: Season 1, Episode 1: Ashes (yes, a mouthful, but these novellas are being released episodically) has a wonderfully realistic heroine in Sersha, a mute teen at the mercy of her inn-running family. Sersha, whose troubles will feel familiar to many chronically ill/disabled readers, worries about her place in the world, how she’s perceived and what will happen when her family can’t support her any longer.

Ashes can easily be consumed in one sitting (though I recommend savoring Wilson’s emotional writing, if you can stand not seeing what comes next). It follows Phoenix Hope, a free short story available to the author’s mailing list subscribers. I highly recommend reading Phoenix Hope, too, possibly before sitting down with Ashes (the moving story of Sersha’s unlucky patients upstairs at the inn, when their ill-fated journey began).

Phoenix Heart Season 1 Episode 1: Ashes Cover
Cover of Season 1, Episode 1: Ashes

When Sersha finds herself the unwitting friend of grieving phoenix named Kazmarev (described as “A name with an adventure inside it”), for once, someone knows exactly what Sersha wants to say. She identifies with Kazmarev, but has no idea what’s in store for her, or that flame riders even exist.

When Kazmarev perishes with the dawn, Sersha assumes her own brief adventure is over. “It was like owning a pearl necklace for a day. Couldn’t you just enjoy it instead of being angry that you couldn’t keep it?” Sersha asks herself. She then returns to her precarious, uninteresting life helping her relatives at the inn—just as raiders arrive on the nearby shore.

Ashes shows Sersha, an overlooked young woman and a keen observer, finding an unexpected place in the world, and unexpected friends—both of which put her at the heart of the action. Though there is a complete story arc in Season 1, Episode 1, it’s clear her adventures are just beginning.

Phoenix Heart promises to be a relatively expensive series, which makes me want to ration each episode (readers who get in on the pre-orders will get a better price; as of writing, the first episode of season 2 still up for pre-order). Though uniformly short, the length of each episode varies. The bother comes because I’d love to consume them all at once without worry about the cost. Still, I look forward to reading more of Sersha and Kazmarev’s adventures, even if I wish they could each last—even just a tiny bit—longer.

To learn more about this author, visit Sarah K.L. Wilson’s website.

Review: Throne of Glass (Maas)

Throne of Glass, by Sarah J. Maas, Review Graphic

This was not 100% my kind of book…yet I found myself reading it for hours on end!

At 18, Celaena Sardothien is the Queen of the Underworld, the most accomplished assassin in Adarlan and a prisoner at the Endovier death camp. She’s physically weak and scarred—but mentally she’s unbroken. Her mantra is “I will not be afraid.” Yet when the son of the King she hates arrives with an offer to win a place as the King’s Champion, it’s one she can’t refuse. It’s a miracle she’s survived a year in Endovier as it is.

Life at the palace isn’t easy. Celaena is torn about working for the man who cost her everything, but has few alternatives. Surrounded by guards at all times and with the threat of being sent back to Endovier hanging over her, she must face other champions in a series of tests, and there are some very strange markings on the castle grounds. Those markings prove to be Wyrdmarks, symbols with strange properties no one can quite agree on, in a kingdom where magic is outlawed.

Things get trickier still when she meets the ghost of Elena, a long-dead queen of Adarlan. She has a message for Celaena, and naturally it’s a cryptic one.

The early part of the story reads like more traditional fantasy, with a stony protagonist skilled with weapons ready to square off with injustice. It proves far more nuanced than that, thankfully, and conflicted characters abound. Throne of Glass walks the line between multiple fantasy genres, so can appeal to many types of fantasy readers.

Technically, Throne of Glass is impeccably written. Celaena’s story is riveting, too, with a highly skilled assassin who ends up as an underdog because of physical and political circumstances. Though I wasn’t sold on the premise early on, it had an uncanny ability to keep me wondering what happened next.

Since I love monsters and paranormal elements in fantasy, I really got absorbed in the story once Elena entered the picture. The Wyrdmarks are creepy and fascinating, and I am team Chaol all the way. A female protagonist who is notably arrogant, not to mention equal parts skilled and confident (perhaps overconfident, given her uphill battle to return to her old Adarlan’s assassin form…but just a little) was different and refreshing.

This is partly because, strong and unbreakable as she is, Celaena has a softer side, too (she loves books and dogs, after all!). She cries at times and has traumatic memories she can’t allow herself to think about. I felt that she could do anything, but was please that her story involved so many understandable struggles. There were no half-hearted challenges here or hero’s problems that were actually easy to overcome. Celaena is a strong woman who still needed–and could accept–help.

I can see why so many people love this series! There is the promise of more magic (though Wyrdmarks are somehow outside of it) and multiverse involvement, plus those paranormal plotlines. Though I thought the climax to be a bit drawn out, it allowed all Celaena’s strengths and weaknesses to come together. I also wanted to shake her a few times (of course you should figure out where that scent is coming from, Celaena!), but that’s a sign of how deeply invested I was in her story.

I look forward to seeing what Celaena Sardothien will do next, and what (or should that be who?) she’ll turn out to be.

To learn more about this author, visit her website at sarahjmaas.com

Review: Tempests and Slaughter (Pierce)

A Review of Tempests and Slaughter

This is the story of how Numair, a beloved character in The Immortals series, became the (ahem; nerdy but a touch amorous) sorcerer we know and love. It’s the story you didn’t know you needed, with a quieter approach to a Hogwarts-like school and a simmering undercurrent of the disaster that is to come. It has a different tone than some of Tamora Pierce’s other YA novels, and I think it would be enjoyable for readers of fantasy as well as YA fans, and to newcomers to Pierce’s work.

Gladiators aside, this is not the violent story you’d expect from the name. The key word, in fact, is in the series name: The Numair Chronicles. There are animal gods, two kinds of magic, first love, dedicated friends, puberty and one prodigiously talented little boy who is about to grow up.

Origin story
Tempests and Slaughter tells the story of a young Numair (Arram Draper) and Ozorne, the “leftover prince” who will become the villain in The Immortals series.

Arram Draper has a Harry Potter-like knack for finding conspiracies and trouble. What he lacks that Harry excels at is the ability to fully pursue them. The future Numair is often told to stay out of it and keep quiet by his trusted teachers, who vow they’ll handle it. But the trouble and foreshadowing just keep coming. Sound frustrating? It is! But this also makes it realistic, interesting and very, very tense.

Arram’s first friend at a school for older mages-in-training is another prodigy: the “leftover prince,” Ozorne. There are peeks at a temper, but his bad side, including his biases, get written off due to his family’s tragic history. And after all, he’s just a boy mage. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tempests and Slaughter is full of slow-burn foreboding like that. It allows the reader to know better without begrudging the characters for not putting two plus two together; they can’t see the future, and the vast majority of the time, Ozorne is no different than any other good-natured but burdened kid. He’s is a protective, wonderful friend to Arram, like the perfect older brother for the vulnerable young mage.

Another perk of being friends with Ozorne is that Arram meets Varice, a sensible and increasingly elegant young woman whom Arram risks ruining their trio of happy friends over: he doesn’t know Varice for long before he has his first real crush.  To Arram, the far more mature Varice seems unattainable, even as he takes on a slew of tasks meant for older teens or an adult.

This book left me eager to read more, ready to re-read The Immortals series and, sometimes, very annoyed. There is no satisfying wrap-up in sight: readers of The Immortals know more trouble is down the road, and nothing that happens in this series will change it. The future is literally already written.

But the looser structure of the story, flying through Arram’s years of training and many growth spurts, leaves room for a lot of action and milestones. Very little of the problems he comes across get resolved (or can be resolved) in one book.

This is a story that just keeps opening further and had to pause somewhere, which means I feel a little tortured between books. Fortunately, it’s a great thing to be tortured by Tamora Pierce’s characters, and I will absolutely have to read what happens next.

Tempests and Slaughter is a classic coming-of-age tale with a dark, magical twist. While Arram undergoes many rites of passage throughout the story, his status as a prodigy (and friendship with a river god) means he also takes on many roles suited for an older teen or adult.

Tempests and Slaughter is never overly violent and focuses mostly on relationships between the characters. Fans of fantasy in school settings will really take to this one. Fans of The Immortals series will be happily glued to it.

To learn more about this author, visit tamora-pierce.net.

Review: Thorn (Khanani)

I’m here with another fairy tale telling this week, this time by an author in both the indie and traditionally published world, thanks to this very story.

Thorn Review Graphic
“This is the life I’ve made for myself, and I want it in a way I haven’t wanted anything else I can remember. It is a wanting that is quiet, and steady, and deep as the beat of my heart.”
— Princess Alyrra in Thorn

The first time I read this book, it was an indie read from a purely indie author. Years later, Intisar Khanani’s retelling of the Goose Girl fairy tale is a traditionally published release that’s undergone some major changes.

Main character and narrator Alyrra is a princess, but not like you’d imagine. Downtrodden and the victim of years of abuse, she has been all but cast aside by her mother, the queen, and is the subject of vicious hate from her brother the heir. (The events that lead to this extreme situation are detailed in the Khanani’s recent release, Brambles.)

Outside of this, Alyrra lives a quiet life. She enjoys the wilderness around her home, has the respect of the servants and has occasional visits from the Wind. It all changes when she becomes the betrothed of Prince Kestrin, heir of the troubled royal family of Menaiya. And then it gets worse. When an old enemy from court, Valka—the lady once destined to marry Alyrra’s brother and become queen—returns to accompany Alyrra to her new kingdom, Valka uses the help of a vengeful sorceress to take Alyrra’s place—and her body.

A princess uncomfortable with power

“Still, should I run so far that I reach the sea, I should not have run far enough, for the thing I run from rides on my back and in my blood, and will not be shaken.”
– The magically disguised Princess Alyrra, after fighting back against goose boy Corbé in Thorn

Disgraced by Valka, Alyrra is relegated to the role of palace goose girl and, unable to stand being called Valka, becomes Thorn. There, she discovers a different life that has the quiet she always loved. For once, her fate is in her hands, and the weight of a kingdom’s expectations is off her shoulders. “This is the life I’ve made for myself,” Alyrra narrates, “and I want it in a way I haven’t wanted anything else I can remember. It is a wanting that is quiet, and steady, and deep as the beat of my heart.”

But Alyrra can’t quite escape her responsibilities, or what’s followed her from home: the cruelty of the women in her life and the violence of the men. Valka is using the court for her own means, and that of the sorceress; the goose boy Alyrra works with has bad intentions, and women and children in Menaiya are not safe on the streets.

It isn’t all dark. When Alyrra befriends a magical horse, Falada, she has her first true friend, and more are soon to follow. But Falada is never shy (yes, a horse pun) about reminding her that she owes it to Menaiya to stop Valka and take her true place.

In the middle of all of this is Kestrin, and interesting character and unusual prince. Alyrra is never quite sure what to think of this seemingly harsh, then thoughtful young man. As he begins to test her, Valka digs deeper for more cruelty, threatening Alyrra if she continues to meet with Kestrin.

Thorn makes for a grim fairy tale, full of the dark sides of humanity. But it’s also full of the joy of found family, and warms readers hearts when Alyrra finds safety and comfort. As she begins to come into her own, Alyrra becomes an advocate for empathy and humanity like no other.

It’s taken me a while to write this review of Thorn, though I read the new version months ago. I was disappointed with the early part of the book. It didn’t grab me the way that the original, indie version did. When I glanced back at the opening of indie Thorn, I realized what I was missing. Alyrra’s nervous energy kept the early chapters moving quickly and reflected her necessarily alert nature. Traditionally published Alyrra was downtrodden and had given up, and accordingly had a more lethargic pace to her narration. I felt like her personality had disappeared.

I was bothered by this, as you might imagine. I loved this story (I still love it, it just takes longer to be itself), and I felt like Alyrra’s personality was reduced to “resigned victim” at the beginning. In the later chapters, when Alyrra says, “In this moment I stand for all I am, and have been, and have known, every whisper of pain and memory and fear. I am all this, and I will stand strong and fight,” there is a bigger payoff, with more character growth and a larger character arc.

Beautiful books by Intisar

Khanani’s elegant writing shines in the new version of Thorn.

Still, I miss that frightened, engaged Alyrra, so alert and protecting herself at every moment like a rabbit in a forest full of wolves (which is actually a good description for her home). She had survivor’s instincts, and that same drive for self-preservation led her to step aside while Valka became princess, rather than just sit back. She was a downtrodden but active heroine who made an understandable, though unusual choice. Traditionally published Alyrra takes longer to find any rays of sunshine, let alone her power.

One benefit to the slower pace of the new Thorn is that it makes more room for Khanani’s wonderful prose to blossom. “I miss the crisp coldness of the forest winters I have known,” Alyrra muses in the narration. “I daydream of warm bread and mittens and the weight of snow on pine trees. The winter here is a different creature altogether, lying heavily over my shoulders and stealing into my bones.” All of my highlights from this book were of Khanani’s prose.

Thorn left me moved, joyful and heartbroken all at once. No matter how it’s changed, it’s a book worth savoring—plus there’s the added bonus of being introduced to Rae in The Bone Knife, a once stand-alone short story. I can’t wait to read The Theft of Sunlight, where the story follows Rae and just might cross paths with Alyrra.

Note: In addition to the Dauntless Path titles mentioned, the prequel to Alyrra’s story, Brambles, is also available.

Review: Children of Blood and Bone (Adeyemi)

Catching up on some reviews today as I finally add Children of Virtue and Vengeance to my very long TBR list. Which can only mean today’s review is of…!

This is a new YA classic, with an inventive fantasy world and a real-world social message.

Children of Blood and Bone is rooted in the culture and religion of the Yoruba people, and it’s beautiful. Adeyemi drops the readers into a compelling fantasy world we’ve all been waiting for, even if we didn’t know it yet. Giant animals to ride on, a stunning pantheon of gods and goddesses, coming-of-age, bigotry (external and internalized), duty, injustice, selflessness and young love are woven into this magical story.

The world of Children of Blood and Bone is cruel to some. Even a girl as strong-willed as Zélie is driven out of her village by bloodshed and tragedy; at the same time, Amari, a princess with about zero self-confidence, makes her way out of the palace, while her heir-to-the-throne brother Inan joins the ranks of the very people responsible for what happens to Zélie’s village (one could say he’s a zealot, or naïve, or both). A collision course is in order.

Zélie is beset by grief and hopelessness at times, which adds to the depth of her story and her own drive. As a Diviner, she is connected to the goddess of death, and holds on just when her faith is about to desert her. She beats impossible odds, but not without strife and cost to herself.

Legend of Zélie: Zélie’s story is the most moving and most riveting of the perspectives. This determined heroine goes from grief and hopelessness to hope, love and sacrifice during her journey. 

My only complaint was that I wanted to stay with Zélie and her companions rather than see what other characters were doing (which is really a testament to how much more exciting Zélie’s story is). It also means I kept reading to get back to her. There were scenes in which Zélie’s awe transmitted perfectly, like when she sees an image of the goddess of death, which gave me actual goosebumps. Adeyemi has a real talent for transferring her characters emotions from page to reader.

In short, I shed tears. I stayed up way too late reading. There was a touch of romance and a big helping of heartbreak. This was a true “experience” novel, and it was gorgeous. It’s also a prime example of the right way to *ahem* kill off a character.

The feeling I had reading this book has stayed with me long after the details began to blur (and admittedly they have blurred a bit). But for me, the best books will always be the ones that make you remember the feeling of reading them, if not all the names and details. Fans of Garth Nix’s Abhorsen/The Old Kingdom series and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Gods of Jade and Shadow are likely to enjoy it as much as I did.

So while this book was probably checked off your own TBR list long ago, I won’t risk somebody out there missing it. Read Children of Blood and Bone if you still haven’t! You won’t be sorry.

Note: Book 2 in the Legacy of Orïsha series, Children of Virtue and Vengeance, was released in 2019; as of posting, there was no release date or title listed on Goodreads for #3.

Indie Book Spotlight: Sting Magic (Wilson)

It’s time for another Indie Book Spotlight!

Note: I received a free advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Sting Magic, the first book in the new Empire of War and Wings series by prolific author Sarah K.L. Wilson, is a typo-dotted triumph. There are three reasons for that: world-building, a unique magic system, and the fact that it is never boring.

Main character Aella lives in a wild colony, the Far Stones, where residents have freedom and hardships alike. They’re poor and backwards by Imperial standards, but most of their time is spent farming in a land that likes to turn upside down and murder them—the Forbidding, a strange, viney magic that corrupts trees and bears and whatever else it can find. Aella’s family is her everything.

And then the heir to the Empire shows up.

That’s when Aella finds out that she has the same winged, creative twist on familiars-style magic as the Empire’s most celebrated warriors. It’s a dream and a nightmare for her. Except, instead of having birds like literally everyone, Aella hatches golden, magical bees. Heresy!

Aella is forced to leave her family to become property of the ruthless Le Majest, Juste Montpetit. In the course of a few hours she loses everything, with only the warm glow of her cute and happy bee familiars to comfort her. Aella has a litany of horrors to face as she travels through a perilous land alongside violent Imperials, and more than few mysteries to solve as she tries to save her family and weighs joining the rebels.

Familiar magic: Readers will love to hate Sting Magic‘s ruthless villain and adore Aella’s bees.

Sting Magic is a shorter novel that moves at a brisk pace. The cozy but disgruntled domestic scenes at the beginning are the closest it ever gets to slow, plus the “let me barge in and spend a long time asserting my authority even though I clearly have other houses to get to” encounter with the cruel prince that immediately follows it. The latter scene could have been more concise and still left the reader wanting to punch Juste Montpetit if given the chance. He’s pure villain, but it works.

An early exchange with Ospey also feels a touch long, and there’s a bit of bouncing around the timeline here and there that can be confusing. But the high stakes for the main character, combined with the mysteries of her magical and dangerous homeland, keep things moving.

That being said, Sting Magic wasn’t fully my cup of tea. One of its biggest weaknesses is its main character, not a weak female MC at all but a broadly sketched one. Aella is more reactive than anything, and replies angrily to her captors when I would’ve expected a brooding, calculating silence, given her goals. She’s a contradiction that way, flying off the handle despite repeatedly being told she could endanger her family, the absolute last thing she wants. She doesn’t read like a person with a hot temper, either.

I was relieved when Aella finally did something proactive toward her goal, and it filled in some of her missing personality. Still, I left the book with only a weak sense of who she is. (I hope Aella will be fleshed out more in the rest of the series.)

One of the reasons Aella’s weak personality stands out so much is because the other characters are so well-rendered: the irredeemably villainous prince, Juste Montpetit; the snooty society gal who just might be a friend, Zayana; the mentor with the huge personality, Ivo; and Osprey, the toothpick-gnawing would-be ally she can’t fully trust. They are never described extensively (Osprey gets a little extra detail so you’ll know he’s handsome), but the things these characters say and do gave me a clear picture of them and their personalities.

The magic system and world-building of Sting Magic are, of course, superb. I wished the writing was a bit more polished (those typos and repetitive phrases!), but the interesting world Wilson created kept me turning pages.

This is a quick read I recommend picking up, in which you can despise the villain, root for the heroine to accomplish her goals (“Be relentless.”), and lose yourself if an intriguing and dangerous world of fabulous magic.

Indie Book Spotlight: Daughter of Shades (Mercedes)

It’s time for another…

No book can be Sabriel. But fans of Garth Nix’s Abhorsen series may want to pick this one up.

Main character Ayleth is a fighter. She’s possessed by a shade, a wolf-like spirit named Laranta—and that happened on purpose. As a member of the Order of St. Evander, she shares her body with a magically, musically suppressed shade so she can battle other shades from the Haunts. But giving her shade a name, and even identifying Laranta as female, is forbidden by the Order. In fact, young Ayleth’s bordering on heresy.

Ayleth, like her shade, is still a bit feral. She works on instinct, even after years of training under her mistress in a woodsy outpost. But she’s incomplete in other ways, too: Ayleth has no memory of her life before she was joined by Laranta. She knocks on the door of those memories from time to time, but no dice.

What she really wants is a post of her own. She wants to get out of her tiny, safe-ish world. It’s a classic story with an intriguing twist, thanks to its fantastic world building.

Better than just romance: Ayleth finds rivalry and curse-breaking smooches along her speculative journey.

Daughter of Shades really gets moving around chapters six and seven. Ayleth’s story benefits from new, long-term characters, who bring out qualities other than those in her defiant-teen dynamic with her mistress. Her newly independent status also comes with a touch of romance—thankfully, not too much, thought it threatens to be at first. Poor Ayleth never sees men outside her work, and she’s more than a bit overly impressed. That portrayal is awkward, because she’s no starry-eyed damsel. I don’t think most readers would want her to be.

Fortunately, her story veers in a far better direction: a rivalry blossoms where a soapy romance might, and gives the story further layers.

There’s a fun nod to the Sleeping Beauty folktale in a type of curse, a unique magic system of different types of shades, magics and poisons, and pleasantly chilling settings. From a cursed forest to the unwatchable glimpses of the haunts, it has enough of a touch of horror to make a really good campfire tale, but still left me still able to sleep at night. (Yes, I’m that big of a scaredy cat.)

My one issue, which probably kept me from getting into the book sooner, is the way Daughter of Shades begins with the possessed body of a dog. It’s not for the squeamish or the animal lovers, but after the first few chapters that plotline is over. I did find it hard to read before that, and while the world interested me, I think the opener (which included a little bait and switch from Ayleth) held it back. The hardened venatrix she first appears as is an interesting gal, and it takes a while for the real Ayleth to catch up.

Ultimately, Daughter of Shades leaves readers with a lot to wonder about (not in a bad way), and the growing action in the last quarter or so of the book keeps the pages turning. Both things, combined with the unusual world-building, made it an easy call for me to keep reading The Venatrix Chronicles.

(And to be honest, I’ll be waiting to see how that romance comes along, too…but don’t spread that around.)

Sure, you can find better writing out there, but that’s no guarantee it can build interest and suspense like this book. Ayleth’s spirited adventures are worth tagging along for—and sometimes, a person just needs a good (slightly!) scary story, with or without the campfire.

Indie Book Spotlight: Spindle (Gingell)

Today we slap a well-deserved gold star on…

Spindle Review Graphic

Spindle, by W.R. Gingell (Two Monarchies Sequence Book One, 2015, New Adult Fantasy/Fairy Tales/Romantic Fantasy).


Do you like fairy tale re-tellings, in which the original story is folded, spindled (ha!) and mashed into the unrecognizable and unique origami shapes of a drowsy heroine pretending to be the legendary sleeping princess people think she is, a little boy pretending rather convincingly to be a dog, an absent-minded wizard not even pretending to be listening (whose catchphrase might as well be “Huh. That’s interesting”), a malignant magical cube on a battlefield, a village in the shape of a spiral that’s bent by a jinx and an obvious but slippery villain?

Phew. That was one quirky mouthful. Today’s indie book spotlight lands on W.R. Gingell’s delightful Spindle, a fun and absorbing retelling of Sleeping Beauty that resembles the original almost not at all, in the very best way.

The magic system of Spindle is thread-based and interesting (and also literally hairy), with three different types of magic, each rarer than the last. The reader is dropped into it with no explanation. That leaves us catching up with what cursed heroine Poly (the non-princess sleeper) is discovering she can do as she discovers it, and as mystified as she is about what her rescuer, Luck, does with his magic. And he isn’t one to explain. It gives the world an authentic feeling, and keeps the pages turning, too.

Warm, silly, creative and clever: Not every book can surpass its typos like Spindle can. This wacky and wonderful book deserves all the stars I can chuck at it.

It isn’t a perfect book, but don’t let that stop you. The grammarian in me warns you that there are more typos in this book than the other high-quality indie books I’ve reviewed. Hyphens are almost nowhere to be found in the entire text, and the writing at the beginning left me as fuzzy as newly-awakened Poly. But its almost lyrical quality and the twisted presentation of an old tale cued me that this was worth reading. By the end I was beaming, and also leaving five star reviews without hesitation.

This isn’t a book that leans on its fun settings and quirky characters alone, either: it’s as imaginative as a fantasy reader could ever want. I continue to be amazed by the way little aspects of the plot and world-building came together at the end. It was clearly well-thought out and cleverly executed. And it’s enjoyable. You’ll find serious stakes and fierce fights here (and a bit of violence), but no endless doom and gloom.

Poly is also a heroine who gets kissed awake, then slugs her disinterested smoocher. She continually demands her personal space, which helps the romance feel earned. And she’s not a one-man gal, either; she has a couple forays into youthful romances, and who she ends up with is never truly a given (although a pair of time travelers threaten to spoil the suspense).

Spindle has more depth than just a romance plot, too. More than one kind of love is integral to the plot, and Poly’s development: there are parts about female friendship and kinship where there could have been a solid rivalry, a melancholic side-plot about the man who could’ve woken her, and a growing bond with the boy-turned dog that is crucial to Poly reclaiming a life after so many years of sleep. All of this advances the plot—and presumably sets it up for the next book in the series.

Well-rounded, often funny, carefully developed, with unique magic systems and a dive in-able magical world, Spindle is a fabulous book. Get past the opaque earliest chapters and typos, and you may adore it just as much as I do.

Supporting diversity in fantasy

Supporting Diversity in Fantasy

I’m back.

I wanted to reaffirm my commitment to reading authors of diverse backgrounds, and stories featuring diversity and non-white leads (something particularly important in fantasy). I’m going to do this by making a more concentrated effort to read said books, and by making sure I review the ones I’ve already read.

We’ve all seen how fantastic books like the three in N.K. Jemisin’s The Broken Earth series have changed fantasy. We need more. We need international authors in translation, diverse authors, diverse characters, and a broader and more authentic inclusion of other cultures in our world-building.

Just think about the way Russian mythology in Katherine Arden’s The Bear and the Nightingale felt like a breath of fresh air, and you’ll realize just how narrow fantasy is. Let’s not do that anymore. Give us all the places. Show us the cultures and well-rounded characters. Support books that do that by buying or borrowing them and leaving reviews along with me.

Note: I’ve updated this post to include a few author recommendations of my own (and one new author I’m excited about!), in no particular order, below.


Authors You’ll Love

Alexis Hendersen

The Year of the Witching is all the mystery, horror and serious trouble with witches you could ask for.  Don’t expect it to wrap up too neatly: a sequel is on the way to this beautifully (and creepily) descriptive book.

Bethany C. Morrow

A Song Below Water (YA Fantasy) is as compelling as…you know (my review here). A wonderful story of found-family sisterhood, identity, protest and myth set in a version of our world with modern mythological beings. The Renaissance fair mermaids might not be real, but the sirens and elokos are. A second book in the series, A Chorus Rises, is due out this year.

Intisar Khanani

Khanani is an indie author who is now a traditionally published one, too. She writes strong, diverse heroines, like Hitomi in the Sunbolt Chronicles (read my review of Book One here.) She is also the author who changed my mind about self-publishing.

N.K. JemisIn

The queen of science fantasy, if not all of fantasy. Jemisin won three consecutive Hugo Awards for The Broken Earth Trilogy, a series that knocked my socks off and only got better. With literary-caliber writing and an original world, Jemisin broke the mold in fantasy and made a new one. And there are more highly acclaimed books and series by Jemisin, too.

Silvia Moerno-Garcia

If you don’t know her yet, you will. Mexican Gothic will soon be a series (I can’t say this enough: don’t let anyone spoil the plot twist for you). But it’s Gods of Jade and Shadow that won, and broke, my heart. A classic fantasy odyssey set in Mexico and using Mayan and other regional mythology, it’s a truly unforgettable book.

Stephanie BwaBwa

Seraphim Falling (YA Epic Fantasy) is on my TBR list! With her first book released in 2020, BwaBwa is a more recent discovery of mine, and with a series that reminds me of Sharon Shinn’s Samaria series, I can’t wait to check it out!


Read More:

Kobo: 10 must-read diverse sci-fi and fantasy novels

Book Riot: 9 Diverse Fantasy Books that will Challenge your Idea of Fantasy Fiction

BookBub: 13 Acclaimed Sci-Fi and Fantasy Novels by Black Authors

Cheers and be well,

-C.K.