shottel's reviews
35 reviews

World Running Down isn’t innovating, but that’s okay. It’s solid fiction, set a couple generations after rich people jump ship to a new planet after deciding that earth is a lost cause. A few large cities remain the last bastions of prosperity, while outside their borders things somewhat resemble Mad Max. In this environment Valentine, a trans guy trying to scrape together enough money to buy a visa to one of the cities, takes a job that sends him down a path that involves a lot of reflection about what it means to be sentient and our duty to others and the environment. Less high-falutin, there’s also a lot of gay emotions and some sex. It’s a genuinely enjoyable novel, especially if you like more reflective fiction or trans or gay main characters. 

Oh, how much I wanted to like this book more. And yet, unless you’re a fan of the fantasy genre specifically, or perhaps of South American-inspired settings, I couldn’t recommend it to you.

Let’s start with what went well: The setting. One of my favorite fictional settings I’ve encountered in a long time. I’m a huge sucker for religious themes and topics, which weigh heavy on the plot. I personally haven’t read much inspired by South America, so it was refreshing and new to me to see a fiction book draw heavily on its history and culture. I might read the sequel just for further worldbuilding.

Additionally, I felt the one-on-one fights were excellent. Clear and visceral. I’ve read more than a few good novels with confusing, poorly wrote fights that drag down the whole thing.

Now, what didn’t go well: The characters. There are two main protagonists in this novel. I deeply disliked them both. One of them is self-righteous, to the point of overlooking her own deeply heinous actions; the other is cowardly and perpetually impulsive, an awful mix that made for a character that repeatedly made her own situation worse and regretted it moments later. That’s not enjoyable to read. It’s frustrating. At times, I was rooting against both of them.

To make matters worse, there was only one character in the book I felt was compelling, and the author hid away his motives until about 80% of the way through the book. When his backstory got more detail I was actually frustrated because it made him deeply interesting. I would’ve greatly preferred reading the entire novel from his perspective. That’s notable, because I read this novel in part because I love sapphic women leads, but I now wish the book was about the straight guy.

The other thing I felt went poorly was the fights that weren’t one-on-one. Most notably, there is a particular large battle in the second half which comes off as incredibly lackluster. Startlingly so, in fact, given how much I felt the one-on-one fights were great. Generously, it felt like reading a college freshman’s attempt in a creative writing class that got a B-.

All in all, I only recommend this book if you’re a fantasy genre fan or want some more South American in your fiction. Otherwise, spend your time elsewhere, because if the setting won’t carry it for you, then characters definitely won’t.

This book deserves the positive acclaim it’s received. It could fit in with the Great Novels that I was forced to read in high school, and I say that completely as a positive thing. Its depiction of overlapping cultural communities as conflicting and misunderstanding but ultimately looking out for and genuinely caring for each other is as hopeful as it is realistic. In the end, the villains aren’t the people with deep biases. If that were the case, there would be no one to root for in this book. Instead, the villains are the people who refuse to care about people who aren’t like them, and our protagonists are people who don’t let their misconceptions about other groups of people get in the way of doing the right thing. It’s a wonderfully positive message.

The writing style is immaculate as well, with perfect balance and flow and a dry sense of sarcasm. The presentation choices (font, spacing, etc.) present this book like great work of literature, like a fancy looking Bible, and it manages to earn these dressings. The plot is well-paced, with just the right amount of twists and turns. I couldn’t suggest a single phrasing or word choice or paragraph restructuring that I feel would be better. 

The sole reason this is not a 5/5 review is that for all its excellence in depicting numerous different ethnic groups and people of different ages and abilities, the identity of the author as a straight man comes through. It’s the sole mark against the book’s virtual universality, an impressive feat given it’s situated very firmly in interwar-period Pennsylvania. Nevertheless, the repeated references to women’s breasts and buttocks and the greater priority men have in the story, among other things, was hard for me to miss.

Nevertheless, this book is still very close to a must-read. If you can manage the lengthy list of heavy topics the book covers (it pulls absolutely no punches with regards to the difficulties of life) and you think you even might possibly be interested in the setting and style, it’s worth your time.

Provenance is a very interesting novel, and not just for its compelling and lightning-fast plot or creative sci-fi setting. The structure of the book is different. In high school I learned of the traditional structure of fiction stories: An opening to set things up, a middle where the plot really rolls, a grand climax of action, then a conclusion where things slow down as the ends are tied up. Provenance doesn’t quite do that. Instead it feels more like it snowballs until it slams straight into the ending of wall. The pace gets increasingly frantic as the stakes rise all the way up to the last ten or so pages, and there is no clear point that you can point to while reading it that says “okay, we’re in the climax phase now.” It’s a different, and very pleasant, reading experience.

There are other things that make it interesting. It’s definitely LGBT fiction, depicting a variety of different gender and sexuality regimes. Without spoiling anything, it’s very subtly implied that the main character is an awful judge of character and intention, which contributes to the political mystery that unfolds. The book in general is frequently very understated, from the setting to the characters, but there’s just  barely enough to make sure you can realize there’s more than meets the eye. And this is very much a me thing, but I found it significant: The font choice was perfect. The majority of the letters, the normal lowercase ones, are positively generic. But the italics and capitalized letters are quite interesting - something that’s hard to catch from the main text, but fits with the overall mesh of the book: A world of characters who look and act and pretend like everything is fine, but in reality the interesting parts keep forcing through.

The interestingly different structure of the book combined with the positively creative use of sci-fi to depict alternate societies leads me to highly recommend this book.

A fun novel with a touch of macabre. Daisy Ellery outwardly sports the role of a 50’s housewife, but really comes a hair shy of being a serial killer. Her targets are all awful men, but this only offsets the vibes so much, as she hums cute little murder ditties while baking specially-ordered death pies.

This tonal dissonance is can be very amusing, but sometimes is too outwardly stated; by 50 pages in the very pleasing image a housewife intent on killing abusive men has set in, so when she acts cheery as can be while lying about her weekend there’s no need to state that she’s lying. We can pick it up on our own.

Other than being a little too forward with the protagonist’s moral complexity and the rare confusingly constructed sentence, the mystery also didn’t take too much hold on the plot. By the halfway point the picture was fairly clear, and the question began to shift to “well, how do we solve this problem?” Not complaining too much about it, just found it odd it was billed as a mystery novel.

Despite these issues, I enjoyed reading it. It got several laughs out of me and I loved the representation. The love triangle was also well done, nuanced by the way their very different personalities influenced Daisy. Some people may not like how the love triangle is resolved, but I was okay with it.

Overall, if this book seems interesting to you, I recommend it.

Not as good as A Psalm for the Wildbuilt, but that’s a pretty high bar. A must-read for people who liked its prequel. Nearly as moving and thought-provoking and almost as well-wrote. A beautiful and hopeful vision of a kind and sustainable world. I want more books like this.

A delightfully down-to-earth story set in a world most of us recognize as the backdrop for epic adventures of high magic and dangerous beasts, Legends & Lattes has us follow the main character as she opens a coffee shop in an unfamiliar city which has no knowledge of what coffee even is. She deals with some very mundane issues of corruption, business, and old friends, while a romance blooms in the background. My sole problem with this book is that it seems that romance stays a bit in the background; maybe the author is trying to riff on the whole "oblivious lesbians" stereotype, but I don't feel like there was a satisfying conclusion to that line, even as every other thread gets tied up in a neat knot by the end. Nevertheless, the book is generally quite lighthearted, very well-written, and a wonderful break from the "big" stories most fantasy novels trade in. I strongly recommend it, with the sole caveat to not expect much from the romance part of the story.

Muir loves switching up her genres. While Gideon was moderately mystery-focused and Harrow was definitely a mystery novel, the mystery of Nona takes a back seat to how goddamn precious Nona is. Unfortunately, that fact makes an already sad series even sadder. It’s fortunate that Muir’s writing style is hilarious, because otherwise the entire plot of Nona the Ninth would’ve been pretty depressing.

Still, I would say it’s better than Gideon and a mark worse than Harrow - which is to say, it’s very good. I had a harder time following the plot than before, and while Muir makes great strides with diversity in this book, it sometimes comes off a tad awkward (like in the repeated misgendering of a character with they/them pronouns, just for them to correct themselves). But those are pretty small problems compared to the rest of this deeply dark and funny novel. If you liked Gideon and Harrow, I highly recommend it.

I am not the target demographic of this book, or, likely, any of Sarah J. Maas's books. As one article put it, Maas specializes in "attractively damaged" characters, and as far as I read this book seems chock full of them: people who, from an objective accounting, have a lot going for them, but they're just very upset about something. In the case of this book, in the opening the main character has a rich and powerful dad, a rich and powerful boyfriend, and a rich and powerful best friend. I do not feel particularly bad for her lot in life, although it seems I am supposed to.

Additionally, Crescent City is supposed to be the more "mature" line in Maas's portfolio. To be entirely frank, it felt a little bit like an 18 year old's idea of what "mature" means. The characters you are immediately introduced to are painted as irresponsible punks, but also hold positions of prestige; they are highly respected, but also get to skip lines and do drugs. I'm aware I stopped right before the plot picked up, but this is how they spent the first 50 pages establishing the world. It's not the kind of "mature" I'm looking for.

If you're like me, then you might want to try something else. But if you like this kind of story, or Maas's other works, then don't let me dissuade you. The writing is solid, and the world is interesting. I just couldn't get with the characters, and how they were presented.