A character-driven literary sci-fi on motherhood, one would need to be in the right mood for I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself, as its first-person, stream of consciousness structure is not the easiest to get into—the hypothetical future where one's 'crime' is documented through the addition of one's shadow is deeply provocative (one literally cannot escape from his/her past), but in execution this is more of a peripheral world-building rather than the story's focal point.

This is not to discredit the novel for lacking in substance, as we follow the protagonist becoming a new mom and a widow simultaneously, in a society that discriminates against her kind (her queerness, as well as her additional shadow), there are sections I find the storytelling extremely poignant and raw (the helpless hysteria driven by grief, shame and guilt), the self-deprecating humor darkly funny and true to character, and its candidness around sex and BDSM eye-opening (considering this is not marketed as a romance). However, the story lacks a clear end goal to keep me fully invested, since the main driving force is simply following the protagonist in raising her child and keeping her inner demons in check. Even when towards the end there's more of a 'plot' developing, the solution also comes very quickly and over-simplified.

I see other readers comparing this to Our Wives Under The Sea, and I agree, as both features a sapphic relationship, set in a dystopian near-future world, with an unusual, stylish execution. Even though I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself is overall a little uneven, with its strength lies in depiction of internal turmoil, rather than external conflict (which is primarily what I was expecting) —it is still worth checking out if you're in the mood for an in-depth character study.