Calissa

Published: October 2019 by University of Queensland Press
Format reviewed: Paperback, 280 pages
Genres: Young adult thriller, magical realism
Source:
Available: Publisher (print and electronic) ~ Abbey’s ~ Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Book Depository ~ Booktopia ~ Dymocks ~ Indiebound ~ Kobo ~ Smashwords

Stacey and Laney are twins — mirror images of each other — and yet they’re as different as the sun and the moon. Stacey works hard at school, determined to get out of their small town. Laney skips school and sneaks out of the house to meet her boyfriend. But when Laney disappears one night, Stacey can’t believe she’s just run off without telling her.

As the days pass and Laney doesn’t return, Stacey starts dreaming of her twin. The dreams are dark and terrifying, difficult to understand and hard to shake, but at least they tell Stacey one key thing — Laney is alive. It’s hard for Stacey to know what’s real and what’s imagined and even harder to know who to trust. All she knows for sure is that Laney needs her help.

Stacey is the only one who can find her sister. Will she find her in time? 

Ghost Bird belongs most comfortably in the genre of the YA thriller. A certain subsection of this genre likes to play coy about the presence of supernatural elements. Examples include Black by Fleur Ferris, Small Spaces by Sarah Epstein and Flight of the Fantail by Steph Matuku. By the end, each of these books definitively answers whether the speculative elements played with are considered real within the story’s world. Ghost Bird also has definitive answers, making it very at home in this subgenre. However, its identity as an Indigenous Australian Own Voices narrative makes it difficult to call the story a speculative one. After all, referring to what may be a part of a living Indigenous tradition as fantasy or speculative seems neither respectful nor accurate.

Cleverly, this tension between Western and Indigenous thought is one of the central themes of Ghost Bird. The story is written in first person present tense from the perspective of Stacey. She is intelligent, rational and takes her education very seriously — too seriously, according to some of her family, who feel she should be paying more heed to traditional ways. However, the death of her grandmother left Stacey disillusioned with those teachings, and so at first she brushes off her dreams about her missing twin. After all, they’re probably just a product of her worried subconscious, right? And the secrecy with which her elders treat certain important information hinders Laney’s rescue, adding to Stacey’s frustration (and is much in keeping with the trope of useless adults in YA). It is up to her to do the research, interview the people and put together the clues. Thus, the dichotomy between Western rationalism and Indigenous teachings is not shown as a clear-cut matter, with both ways having their advantages and disadvantages. Ultimately, Stacey needs both to succeed.

Clearer cut are the lines of race that divide the town. The book is set in a small Queensland town with a long history of conflict between the Indigenous population and the white settlers. This conflict is shown in a number of ways throughout the story. Most obviously, certain extremely racist members of the township serve as the manifest villains of the piece. Laney goes missing after she and her boyfriend make a raid on their property and it’s not immediately clear whether this was due to the farmers or to something sinister living in the taboo caves on the corner of their property. These characters also represent a physical threat to Stacey and her friends as they go to investigate. However, racism is also present in less direct ways. The readers are shown the contrast in how the police handle missing persons cases based on race. We’re also told about the effective segregation in place at the local pub and even to some extent the town as a whole.

In addition to the conflict around race, we also get to witness the divisions in the Indigenous population of the town. Stacey’s family had been feuding with the Miller family since time out of memory. Which becomes a problem when Stacey suspects Mad May Miller has some understanding of what’s going on.

All of this conflict is balanced out with a large and affectionate family. Certainly, Stacey has her issues with both her sister and her mother, but they stem from a deep and genuine love and there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to protect them. We also get to see her relationship with her grandparents, full of small gestures that speak of love. And her cousin Rhiannon provides some much-needed company on Stacey’s adventures. In many ways, Rhiannon serves as a stand-in for the absent Laney, being close in both age and affection to Stacey. She also provides a boldness that Stacey lacks, inciting her to break the rules in ways Stacey might not otherwise have considered, thus moving the plot along.

There is the suggestion of romance present in the narrative, barely there by the standards of most YA. This light touch worked well, given the story’s strong focus on family. Other relationships took priority.

Since its publication, Ghost Bird has received some critical acclaim, winning the Norma K. Hemming Award for Long Work (alongside From Here On, Monsters by Elizabeth Bryer), the Queensland Literary Award’s Young Adult Book Award, the Readings Young Adult Book Prize, and receiving Honours from the Children’s Book Council of Australia. However, there are a few things that may mean some readers struggle to find it accessible.

Foremost among these is the time in which it’s set. This is not a contemporary story, but occurs back in 1999. This is a curious choice, but may have been made to circumvent the advent of mobile phones, making it more difficult for Stacey’s often absent mother to check up on her. It also relieves the need for the author to update the pop culture references made. While it may be very nostalgic for readers of a certain age to moon over Tupac or bop along to TLC’s Waterfall, it may also make it a little harder for a contemporary teenager to relate.

There’s a further stumbling block for non-Australian readers in the use of Australian dialect. Most of it is fairly easy to intuit, but there are one or two instances that may prove more arcane for some readers. Relatedly, a stylistic choice has been made to skip using apostrophes to denote abbreviations related to dialect, for example “Ya could always go and help im.” I found this lack a mercy, since their inclusion often makes for cluttered lines. However, I once again acknowledge it may make things more difficult for some readers.

This is not a book that tiptoes around delicate sensibilities. There’s plenty of swearing, a bit of violence, an attempted sexual assault on screen and the implication of domestic violence off it.

Despite all that, my final criticism of the story is that it is just a shade slow-paced in the middle. Stacey spends just a little too long waiting for news and not putting pieces together.

However, on the whole, it is a thoughtful and engaging work — an excellent debut novel that I thoroughly enjoyed. I will be on the lookout for more from this author in the future.

This week I’m over at the Skiffy and Fanty Show with a review of the Aurealis-Award-winning Catching Teller Crow by Ambelin and Ezekiel Kwaymullina. This is a masterfully-told story about the ghost of an Aboriginal girl who goes with her father to investigate a fatal fire in a small rural town in Australia. It presents dark subjects in a way that allows their impact to be felt while also offering hope and remaining appropriate for a young adult audience.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: January 2019 by Tor Books
Format reviewed: Trade Paperback, 320 pages
Series: Titan’s Forest #3
Genres: Fantasy
Source: Bought from Dymocks
Available:Abbey’s ~ Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Book Depository ~ Booktopia ~ Dymocks ~ Indiebound ~ Kobo

Disclaimer: This review contains spoilers for previous volumes/books.

Courtier, explorer, thief: Leaper is a man of many skills, but none of his talents satisfy the yearning in his heart for the Queen of Airakland, the ruler of a thunder-clashed kingdom.

Their affair is cut too short, however, when she is murdered. But who was the assassin? A political rival? The jealous king? Or, perhaps, the god of thunder who oversees them all?

Distraught, Leaper vows revenge, but little does he realize that his mission will lead him away from his forest home, across the vast floodplains, and to the edges of time and myth itself.

Tides of the Titans takes the already epic world of Titan’s Forest and throws it wide open, following Leaper on a far-ranging quest for revenge.

Each book of the series so far has featured a new character. Leaper is the younger brother of Imeris, the protagonist of the second book, and also the reincarnated soul of Unar’s sister from the first book. So, even though there are different characters, they remained tied together by bonds of family. Imeris and Unar both make appearances in Tides of the Titans.

One of the real strengths of the book is the fully developed world. The bulk of the story is set ten years after the previous book and there’s a sense that reoccurring characters like Imeris and Unar haven’t just been sitting around, but have been getting on with their lives, even encountering new problems. Throughout his journey, Leaper encounters many new people and it felt like any one of them could set off on a new quest at any moment, or even that they were already on their own quest which just happened to intersect with Leaper’s.

In keeping with the tradition of the series, Leaper is if not unlikeable, then certainly flawed. He’s a pretty arrogant character, content with his cleverness. He’s also not overly cautious, prone to fits of temper, and not very loyal… although, in fairness, few have been loyal to him when they should have been. And his arrogance has perhaps been somewhat earned, as he is a very competent spy and thief. I particularly enjoyed the way he connects his personas to forest imagery, picturing plants that embody the traits he seeks and using that to fuel the way he moves and behaves.

Like the previous books, Tides of the Titans also continues to be influenced by Greek myth. Leaper is our Odysseus, silver-tongued and too clever for his own good, cursed by a god and just trying to get home. Readers familiar with the Odyssey will notice nods throughout the story, including the Bag of Winds and even a cyclops of sorts. However, this is far from a straight retelling and these elements are always given their own unique twist.

Being so strongly influenced by the Odyssey, Leaper encounters a lot of characters in passing. However, most of them don’t stick around for very long, making it hard to form an emotional connection with the story, especially when Leaper’s own behaviour can be a bit erratic at times and he is blown from place to place. The story is much less about the personal journey than about the story of the wider world. As Leaper travels, he uncovers the story behind the gods and Titan’s Forest itself. He quite literally sees the footprints of the gods on the world.

However, while the people don’t stick around, we do see a number of different cultures, and the book continues to explore the colonialist themes of the series. Right from the get-go, the citizens of Floor are shown as being far from a monolith. There’s also some delving into the theft of culturally significant artefacts.

Despite being the potential conclusion of the series, Tides of the Titans doesn’t wrap up into a neat ending. People continue to suffer and there are no happily-ever-afters, just new challenges. It is a segment of history and of people’s lives, not a fairy tale.

All in all, Thoraiya Dyer has produced another nuanced and thoughtful story in Tides of the Titans.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: February 2019 by Orbit
Format reviewed: E-book (mobi), 432 pages
Genres: Fantasy
Source: NetGalley
Available: Abbey’s ~ Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Book Depository ~ Booktopia ~ Dymocks ~ Indiebound ~ Kobo

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

For centuries, the kingdom of Iraden has been protected by the god known as the Raven. He watches over his territory from atop a tower in the powerful port of Vastai. His will is enacted through the Raven’s Lease, a human ruler chosen by the god himself. His magic is sustained via the blood sacrifice that every Lease must offer. And under the Raven’s watch, the city flourishes.

But the power of the Raven is weakening. A usurper has claimed the throne. The kingdom borders are tested by invaders who long for the prosperity that Vastai boasts. And they have made their own alliances with other gods.

It is into this unrest that the warrior Eolo–aide to Mawat, the true Lease–arrives. And in seeking to help Mawat reclaim his city, Eolo discovers that the Raven’s Tower holds a secret. Its foundations conceal a dark history that has been waiting to reveal itself…and to set in motion a chain of events that could destroy Iraden forever.

The Raven Tower is an intelligent, well-written book but not one I actually enjoyed. While its ideas are interesting, its characters failed to engage me.

The story alternates between two threads. One is told in first person by a god who has taken the form of a rock. The story starts in the distant past and narrates the god’s journey to the present, telling of how it came to awareness, its growing connection with humans and its role in the war between the gods. The second story is set in the present and tells the story of Eolo, a warrior of Iraden. It is told in second person as the god narrates Eolo’s story back to him.

One of the things I enjoyed most about the book was the gods. It takes a bunch of old elements–such as the gods being active in the world, the idea of big and small gods, and the way they are sustained by the prayers and petitions of worshippers–and pieces them together in a way that feels fresh. The interaction between the gods serves to humanise them in some respects: they have their own petty squabbles but also friendships. They will hang out and discuss philosophy.

A key theme of the story is power and the power of words in particular. The gods’ powers are very much tied to words–what they speak must become truth if it is not already so. That manifestation relies on the god’s power, so they must only speak what they have the power to manifest or else run the risk of wiping themselves out. It’s a clever way of limiting the power of the gods and also leads to the very unique voice of the story. The narrator may not be able to lie, but they can hedge the truth and are quite transparent about doing so at times.

Unfortunately, this also lead to my key issue with the book. Because the god is narrating Eolo’s story, that part of the tale lacks interiority. The god cannot tell us what Eolo is thinking or feeling, else its power will be steadily drained away as the tale goes on. It does occasionally speculate what might have been the case, but elsewise the reader must read between the lines. This isn’t onerous, but it also isn’t satisfying. I found it created a distance that I could never quite bridge, making the experience an intellectual one. The lack of a strong emotional element left me unable to connect with the characters in any meaningful way.

One thing I was pleased to see was the way Leckie continued her tradition of including diverse characters. Most notably, Eolo is a transgender man, but in the background very little of the cast is white. Nor is this lampshaded or made a big deal of in a way that effectively shows this is (or should be) a normal thing.

All in all, while The Raven Tower is a clever tale, it is just not the book for me.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: March 2019 by Escape Publishing
Format reviewed: E-book (mobi), 150 pages
Genres: Paranormal romance
Source: NetGalley
Available: Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble~ Kobo

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

In a world where flight is life, will two grounded people find other ways to fly?

When Benedick Sasaki’s wings are wounded in the line of duty, the former policeman doesn’t know if he has a place in a world where he can no longer fly.

Then he meets Clementine Torres, an artist born without wings and a vocal advocate for the flightless who has been subjected to recent hate mail and vandalism ahead of her new exhibition. As Clementine starts to teach Benedick new ways to appreciate the world on the ground, the threats against her art and possibly her life begin to escalate.

To survive, they will need to teach each other that not all beauty is in the air, and that both of them can soar without wings…

Grounded is one of the best paranormal romances I’ve read. It is smart and sweet, with some fantastic worldbuilding and genuine warmth between the characters.

The book is set in an alternate world where humans have evolved from birds rather than monkeys. While this world looks much like our own, (and is, in fact, set in an alternate version of my home town) it is clear the author has put a lot of thought into the differences that manifest. Some of these are big things, like architecture and furniture–there’s not much call for elevators or chairs with backs. And some of these are small, like the jokes people tell and the slightly different turns of phrase. Then Harris goes a step further and imagines the challenges facing someone born without wings. This is not the same as being born a human as we would think of it. Instead, we’re shown what it would be like to live as a being evolved to have wings but doesn’t due to genetic defect. How does this body keep warm and protect its kidneys? How does one keep back musculature in shape? This is quite aside from the difficulties in getting around and finding clothes that fit.

These are the challenges that face Clementine. At first she comes across as quite an angry person–and this is certainly the impression she leaves Benedick with after their first encounter as neighbours. And there would be some justification for this, if it were true. After all, Clementine is forced to spend a lot of time fighting for the space to even exist. However, there’s so much more to her than that. Unsurprisingly, she has a strong sense of justice, fighting not only for herself, but for others as well. This is paired with an eye for wonder and beauty. Her disability means she sees the world from a different angle to most and she’s quick to share that with Benedick. She sees his suffering and generously steps in to help.

Benedick starts out as a bit of a mess. Having permanently injured one wing, he can no longer fly and is struggling to adjust to his new life–to the point where suicide has crossed his mind. However, he’s quick to seize the lifeline Clementine offers him, intrigued by his new neighbour and the joy she sees in this world. Like her, Benedick also has a strong sense of justice. When Clementine starts receiving death threats and her artwork is vandalised, he follows the particulars of her case and advocates for her when his former co-workers are quick to dismiss her.

One of the things I loved most about Benedick was the ways in which he works against ideas of toxic masculinity. He cries several times–on his own and in front of others–as he adjusts to this situation. This is never made a big deal of, but simply shown as a natural reaction. His relationship with his brother Peri is warm and supportive; their scenes together were some of my favourite (and I really hope that one day there might be a book about Peri meeting the man of his dreams).

This book really packs a lot into such a small space, examining disability and microaggressions… and sometimes straight-up discrimination and lack of consideration. However, the pacing never feels too slow and there’s a nice synergy between the development of Clementine and Benedick’s relationship and the bigger issues. If I had one quibble, it’s that the resolution of Clementine’s case was a bit predictable, but that did not in any way detract from my enjoyment of the book.

I’d really like to read more paranormal romance of this calibre and to see more of this world, so I shall be hoping for future books from this author.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: February 2019 by Five Fathoms Press
Format reviewed: E-book (epub)
Series: The Harwood Spellbook #2
Genres: Fantasy, alternate history, romance
Source: Publisher
Available: Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble~ Kobo ~ Smashwords

Disclaimers: I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This review contains spoilers for previous volumes/books.

Cassandra Harwood scandalized her nation when she became the first woman magician in Angland. Now, she’s ready to teach a whole new generation of bright young women at her radical new school, the Thornfell College of Magic

Until a sinister fey altar is discovered in the school library, the ruling Boudiccate sends a delegation to shut down Thornfell, and Cassandras own husband is torn away from her.

As malevolent vines slither in from the forest and ruthless politicians scheme against her, Cassandra must fight the greatest battle of her life to save her love, her school, and the future of the young women of Angland.

The first novella in the Harwood Spellbook series, Snowspelled was one of my favourite books of last year, so I was delighted to get my hands on a copy of the sequel. Thornbound does a brilliant job of meeting the standard set by the first book, keeping the thoughtfully feminist themes of the series while advancing both Cassandra’s story and the world itself.

Just as Cassandra is on the verge of achieving her big dream of opening a school for women magicians, things begin to unravel. Her childhood bully arrives as head of the delegation sent to decide if she’ll be allowed to keep the school open. She finds herself saddled with Angland’s most annoying weather wizard as an instructor… who then misses his first class. The Boudiccate have sent her husband running all over the country on urgent business since the day of their wedding. And to top it all off, Cassandra hasn’t had a good night’s sleep since she arrived at the school, thanks to a reoccurring nightmare. It’s enough to leave anyone fatigued and frazzled.

Cassandra continues to make a compelling character. As a trailblazer–both as the first woman magician and as the head of the first school for women magicians–she’s headstrong and stubborn, with a clear idea of what she wants and a reasonably solid plan as to how to bring it about. Going against society’s expectations means she knows the value of appearing confident and relying on her own strength. However, these qualities don’t always serve her well, particularly in her personal life. The story does a fantastic job of pushing back at narratives of the lone hero, noble sacrifices, and, to a degree, protecting loved ones. Instead, it draws out themes of respecting the choices of others, making connections, and not trying to do it all oneself.

I was also delighted to see Cassandra continuing to wrestle with the loss of her magic. All too often, fantasy stories turn to the magic fix, especially when it relates to health and able-bodiedness. While the loss of her magic doesn’t affect her in a physical way, it represents the absence of a crucial part of Cassandra–one that she still grieves over, even as she forges ahead. It forces her to be more resourceful and to rely on others, making her a far more interesting character than otherwise.

The story is set in an alternate Regency period. Many stories set around this era tend to be very white, so it was gratifying to see a reasonably diverse cast. Both Cassandra’s husband and sister-in-law are people of colour who occupy positions of significant power in this world. Racial tensions have been transferred to species instead, with an uneasy truce between the humans and the fey who formerly occupied the land. Naturally, there are some prejudices on both sides and we see some of this play out in Cassandra’s half-fey housekeeper, Miss Birch. Even Cassandra, who has nothing but respect for Miss Birch’s skills, catches herself making disparaging comments about the fey in front of her housekeeper.

Elements of mystery are included, as Cassandra tries to figure out who made the altar to bargain with the fey and what the deal is with the thorny vines both in her dreams and in the waking world. Cassandra is juggling so many balls that it keeps the stakes high and the story moving at a reasonable pace as she reels from one disaster to the next.

On the whole, I found Thornbound just as charming a novella as its predecessor. Its exploration of feminist themes was both thoughtful and satisfying. I’m really looking forward to the continuation of the series.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: Self-published in January 2019
Format reviewed: E-book (epub), 524 pages
Series: Aurora #7
Genres: Science fiction, military sci-fi, space opera
Source: Publisher
Available: Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Book Depository ~ Booktopia ~Google Play ~ Indiebound ~ Kobo

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This review contains spoilers for previous volumes/books.

The battle is over, but the war is just beginning . . .

The Zeta invasion has occurred and the world now knows the truth: that an alien threat exists. While the UNF scramble to maintain calm, the pressure mounts to finally reveal their black ops ALPHA soldiers. The only question is, who will be entrusted to lead them?

Harris is still reeling from the devastation that occurred during Decima, and when a startling discovery is revealed, he suddenly loses the trust of the UNF. Next in line is McKinley, but still recovering from his injuries, hes struggling to accept what he has now become. Carrie, on the other hand, is the strongest shes ever been, but her linkage to Harris, and his to the Zetas, sees them forced out and treated as the enemy.

The power they once had within the UNF is lost.

Without a ship or a leader, and with enemies closing in on all sides, the Aurora team must fight to regroup and claw their way back from oblivion.

Carrie, Harris and McKinley face their most explosive showdowns yet, in this action-packed instalment that will leave readers on the edge of their seats!

Reading through the Aurora series thus far has been a long journey: the last instalment was published a bit over two years ago. Bridgeman hasn’t been idle in that time, releasing both a self-published title (The Time of the Stripes) and a traditionally published book (The Subjugate out from Angry Robot). This dedicated work ethic shows through in Aurora: Aurizun. There were a couple of rough spots in the writing style early on, but these quickly smoothed out and, on the whole, were an improvement on previous books.

The pacing remained a little uneven. The story is divided into two parts, with the beginning of the first part largely given over to the fallout from the previous book. This had the potential to feel slow, but there was enough emotional weight to keep things tense. The action peaks at the end of the first part, then slows down as the different factions manoeuvre around each other, before building up once again to the big finale I’ve come to expect from this series.

Once again, this is not a good entry point for new readers. Not only is this the seventh book in the series, but these are not small books and they feature a large cast. Being swamped with award reading, I didn’t get a chance to look back over the previous books in the series, so I feel it is a credit to Bridgeman’s writing that I was able to ease back into the story with minimal confusion over who was who.

However, this may also be due to the fact that this book doesn’t spend a lot of time with the crew of the Aurora. Having lost their ship in the previous book, they spend most of their time cooling their heels, with the focus being more on the personal journeys of Carrie, Harris and McKinley. A schism in the UNF also takes a lot of the spotlight as the top brass split over the best strategy to combat the looming alien threat. Readers who like politics and shifting alliances should very much enjoy this book.

The story also does a good job of continuing the themes of bodily autonomy that have woven throughout the series. I particularly appreciated the way it touched on women’s reproductive rights and how these get hijacked by the patriarchy for their purposes. And I was gratified to see the inclusion of more queer representation, particularly in a character who defies the usual stereotypes.

While I generally enjoyed the story, I was ultimately left with the feeling the series was treading water. There were some steps forward, particularly in relation to the personal journeys of the three central characters. However, these mostly felt like tying up loose ends from previous books rather than treading new ground. The characters are on a deadline, albeit a long one, so the wasting of time does raise the stakes somewhat for future books. That said, it didn’t make for a satisfying read and, given how long the series already is, I wonder how much of it is necessary.

In between all the politicking are some excellent set pieces. The action sequences are strong, visual and violent, helping to anchor the tone of the series.

All in all, Aurora: Aurizun was a solid instalment of the series and I’m curious to see what the next books hold.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: December 2018 by Queen of Swords Press
Format reviewed: E-book (epub)
Genres: Fantasy, sci-fi, historical fiction, LGBTQIA
Source: Publisher
Available: Publisher (print and electronic) ~ Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Book Depository ~ Booktopia~ Indiebound ~ Kobo ~ Smashwords

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Outlaws. Lovers. Heroes. Villains.

With their peg legs, their parrots and the skull and crossbones flying from the mastheads of their ships, classic pirates are some of the worlds best-known and easily recognizable outlaws. Or are they? These fifteen stories spin new tales of pirates crossing dimensional barriers for revenge, fighting terrible foes in outer space and building new lives after the Trojan War. Travel to the South China Sea, then on to New York City after a climate apocalypse, then roam the Caribbean during the Golden Age of Piracy and voyage to distant and fantastical worlds. Go with them as they seek treasure, redemption, love, revenge and more. Raise the Jolly Roger and sharpen your cutlass (or recharge your raygun) and climb aboard for some unforgettable journeys.

Scourge of the Seas of Time (and Space) is a wonderfully varied anthology of short stories that was a delight to read. As the title suggests, it covers a range of time periods and genres, from ancient history through to future Earth and into entirely different worlds. Overall, it leaned towards fantasy and pirates of the sea, but there was enough of a mix to prevent boredom.

Queen of Swords Press has historically been very supportive of diverse work, and it shows in this anthology. A number of stories featured f/f romantic elements and one particularly memorable story (Serpent’s Tale by Mhari West) features a poly triad set in Viking times. It also includes characters from a range of backgrounds, with some of the real-world stories being set in the Caribbean, South-east Asia and Colorado. This inclusivity not only reflects the state of the world, but served to keep the stories interesting.

In addition to the variety of settings, there was also a reasonable variety of tone. It ranged from the fun and wacky to darker stories of revenge and those that embraced the grimmer parts of pirate history. However, on the whole it tends towards the lighter end of the spectrum and threats of sexual violence are distant where present.

One trope that I saw a little more often than I would have liked was the exceptional woman–the one woman on an otherwise all-male crew. By and large, it was handled well, but it was an uncomfortable default, particularly in stories with fantasy settings.

I was unsatisfied by a few stories that felt like a chunk of a larger story and lacked proper closure. This is something of a personal bugbear and will not be true for all readers. However, other stories in the collection also felt like they were part of a larger story but still managed to give proper closure to the tale they were telling. A particularly good example of this was the closing story Search for the Heart of the Ocean by A.J. Fitzwater, in which Captain Cinrak the Dapper, capybara pirate extraordinaire, goes on a quest to retrieve a jewel to replace the one she set free from the Queen’s tiara in a previous story.

The overall quality of the stories was good, though there were one or two that weren’t at the same standard as the others. A couple of my favourites were the opening story Treasured Island by Ginn Hale, in which a pirate is marooned on a sentient island and finds peace in living close to nature, and Andromache’s War by Elliott Dunstan, which tells of what happens to Hector’s wife after the sack of Troy–a fierce story about a woman no longer willing to be powerless in the face of men’s war.

All in all, Scourge of the Seas of Time (and Space) is an anthology with heart and was a welcome read in stressful times.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

Published: October 2018 by Twelfth Planet Press
Format reviewed: E-book (epub)
Genres: Science fiction
Source: Publisher
Reading Challenges: Australian Women Writers Challenge 2018, SciFiMonth
Available: Publisher (electronic only) ~ Amazon (AU, CA, UK, US) ~ Kobo

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
The author is a friend. I have done my best to give an unbiased review.

The Mountain on the planet of Icefall holds the mystery to a lost colony and an irresistible, fatal allure to the climbers of the universe. Maggie is determined to be the first to make the summit. Aisha, injured in a climbing incident herself, has always supported her wife, trusting Maggie would always return from her adventures. But no one ever returns from the Mountain.

I’ve read some fantastic books this year. Icefall is up there with the best of them. It blends hard science fiction with spirituality, then packs the cast full of diverse women and puts some compelling relationships at the heart of it all.

The story is told in first person from Aisha’s point of view. She is the descendent of Tibetan Sherpas and a former priestess of the Order of New Earth, trained to revere the mountains of the galaxy. When the story starts, she’s not in a good way. Having lost her hand in a climbing accident means not only can she never climb solo again, but she was cast out of the order for no longer being able-bodied. She suffers from cerebral storms due to a failed operation and she’s unable to connect to the virtual world that has now become commonplace for society. She’s shut out from so much, left with her wife Maggie as her sole lifeline.

Maggie claims to be descended from George Mallory, the first person to ever climb Mount Everest. She’s one of the universe’s most respected climbers, having conquered mountains which have killed many other climbers. Now, she’s driven to be the first person to reach the summit of The Mountain. Maggie felt like a bit of an enigma to me for much of the story, remaining as inscrutable as the mountain she seeks to climb. Communication isn’t her strong suit, and she makes changes to the spaceship she shares with Aisha without consultation–even going so far as to tinker with Aisha’s own bot. While this had me feeling some outrage on Aisha’s part, Aisha herself doesn’t seem to feel much resentment. Instead, she sees Maggie more like a force of nature, knowing that to try and change or tame her would be to destroy an essential part of who she is. Aisha might be the priestess and the descendent of Sherpas, but the story inverts the trope of the mystical Native guide, with Maggie as the one who is always leading the way, knowing what to do and keeping the faith.

This could leave Aisha feeling like a very passive character. And indeed, she spends a lot of time watching Maggie prepare and make her climb. However, I was never left with the sense of passivity. Aisha has her own battle to fight, albeit a much more internal battle. She must come to terms with her losses and forge her own way forward.

Respect for nature is a primary theme of the novella and The Mountain has a strong presence throughout, functioning as its own character. It moves in its own mysterious ways, claiming lives under strange circumstances. There are some hints towards scientific explanations–indeed, I’d consider the novella as tending towards hard science fiction–but there’s a sense these are as much the will of The Mountain as rational, impersonal physics. It blends the scientific and the spiritual in a way that I adored.

I also very much appreciated the feminist underpinnings of the book. It not only gives a lot of information about the process of mountain climbing, but also delves into key historical figures. The ship’s AI is programmed to look like George Mallory and is thus the only major male-presenting character in the book. The ship itself is named after Wanda Rutkiewicz, the first woman ever to summit K2. There’s also a significant mountain named after Alison Hargreaves, and the story touches on her climb of the Eiger while heavily pregnant.

Icefall was one of the most compelling stories I’ve read this year, hooking me in and not letting me go. Already, it’s calling me to return and reread.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.

One of the first reviews I ever posted here at Earl Grey Editing was of Ambelin Kwaymullina’s debut novel The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf. This week, I revisit the novel for the Skiffy and Fanty Show.

Mirrored from Earl Grey Editing.