Book Review: DRACULA'S CHILD

TITLE: Dracula’s Child

AUTHOR: J.S. Barnes

576 pages, Titan Books, ISBN 9781789093391 (paperback, e-book, audio)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

REVIEW: Dracula’s Child is just one of the most recent in an overwhelming and ever-growing number of sequels to Bram Stoker’s classic, but it stands out from the crowd for a number of reasons.

This is one of those sequels that mimics the original novel’s epistolary style successfully. Dracula’s Child is told through entries from characters’ private journals, correspondence between characters, and press clippings that coalesce into an expansive whole where the reader usually knows more than any individual character knows – heightening the palpable sense of foreboding and doom that befits a gothic adventure novel while at the same time giving the reader glimmers of hope that the characters don’t have. The perspectives of new characters are woven well with those of characters we’re already familiar with; Jonathan and Mina Harker, Arthur Holmwood, Jack Seward, and Abraham Van Helsing are all back, as is Jonathan and Mina’s now almost-teenage son Quincey.

If I have one complaint about the book, it’s how miserable all of the returning characters seem to be. If you know me, you know my deep attachment to the original novel and characters. It is hard for me to read a book in which those stalwarts who defeated a great evil appear to have led lives of such deep unhappiness in the aftermath. But that is a personal qualm, and I will readily admit that the unhappiness of the Harkers, et al, contributes to the overall sense of impending disaster the novel maintains.

Another positive: this is one of those seemingly rare sequels that does not riff on the now overused trope that Mina Harker (nee Murray) is the incarnation of Dracula’s lost love (which was nowhere in the original novel). There is no romantic connection between them here. In fact, it’s clear that Mina is still dealing with the trauma from Dracula’s assault/rape of her in the original novel. This really was a breath of fresh air compared to many recent sequels and retellings.

Barnes also incorporates something Stoker could not possibly have done overtly in the original: gay characters who are more than just stereotypes. The author deftly includes scenes of what it was like to live an “openly secret” homosexual life, or as much of one as could be lived given the strictures of the time. I appreciated the period-appropriate representation.

Overall, Dracula’s Child is a sequel that builds well from the original source material rather than rewriting or supplanting it. Like most sequels, it “goes bigger” than the original but in ways that feel original and exciting. And while it leaves room for a follow-up, if Barnes decides to never revisit these characters I feel content with where he leaves his cast in the final pages.

Book Review: THE RED LAMP

TITLE: The Red Lamp

AUTHOR: Mary Roberts Rinehart

312 pages, American Mystery Classics, ISBN 9781613161029 (softcover, hardcover)

MY RATING:  3 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: The atmospheric “seaside gothic” setting, a plethora of interesting potential suspects, and the possibility of supernatural activity in The Red Lamp make up for the repeated instances of the main character being in the wrong place at the wrong time in this mystery from “the American Agatha Christie” Mary Roberts Rinehart. If you can get past the main character’s frequent mis-steps and overuse of the “if only we had known how important [item] would be” trope, the rest of the cast, as well as the setting itself, will pull you in and make for a mostly enjoyable read.

LONGER REVIEW: The Red Lamp is narrated by literature professor William Porter mostly through the use of a journal he kept during a particularly troublesome summer holiday on the property he inherits after his Uncle Horace dies. Locals insist the house is haunted. Porter is skeptical, but can’t deny weird stuff is going on, especially when local sheep are ritualistically slaughtered and a volunteer deputy goes missing. Porter can’t help being in the wrong place at the wrong time multiple times throughout the book, becoming the chief suspect as disappearances and bodies pile up.

And that’s what I struggled with the most with this book: just how many times can a man who knows he’s under suspicion and being watched realistically put himself in situations that only increase the police’s suspicions. If it were being played for humor, as a pastiche of period mystery novels, I might feel differently, but there’s no indication Rinehart was sending up the genre or herself. Porter complains of his rising anxiety over being suspected often enough that at one point I actually shouted, “Then stop going places alone!”

I also was not a fan of the overuse of the trope where the narrator interrupts his own journal with phrases like “if only we’d realized at the time how important [thing] would be later…” as if the author didn’t trust her audience to pick up on clues, or as if the narrator is asking the reader for forgiveness for his overweening cluelessness.

What did I like about the book? The atmosphere of the seaside setting. The large manor house and smaller lodge and boathouse are all as much characters as the humans, and the rural surroundings of wood and farmland and dirt roads add a nice sense of menace at key moments. I liked the slow development of the possible supernatural aspect and how the author kept me wondering right up to the end as to whether the big reveal would be supernatural, mundane, or a combination of both. The broad cast of characters, from Porter’s “psychically sensitive” wife, lovesick niece and the niece’s heroic love interest, to the suspicious local doctor, neighboring “recently rich” couple and fairly incompetent police, kept me guessing and provided plenty of suspects outside of the protagonist to choose from.

What I liked and what I didn’t like ultimately balanced each other out. I think had the book been about a quarter shorter in length, with fewer contrivances to make the narrator the chief suspect, I would have enjoyed it more.

This book has been on my shelves in one form or another for quite a few years, having picked up older paperback editions at various used bookstores. American Mystery Classics brought it back into print a few years back, and it’s that edition that I added to my TBR Challenge as an alternate title last year. It’s the title from last year I didn’t read, so I made sure it was first on this year’s challenge. I’m glad I read it, despite the flaws. Mary Roberts Rinehart has been called “the American Agatha Christie” and according to some accounts even outsold Dame Agatha. American Mystery Classics has been steadily bringing her catalog back into print, and I intend to read a few more of her titles, probably with one of her series characters.

Book Review: THE GIRLS IN NAVY BLUE

TITLE: The Girls in Navy Blue

AUTHOR: Alix Rickloff

416 pages, William Morrow and Company, ISBN 9780063227491 (softcover, e-book, audiobook)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: While there is a mystery, or more accurately several mysteries, at the core of The Girls in Navy Blue, it is mostly historical fiction, and more accurately early 20th century historical fiction. The book takes place in two distinctly different years: 1918, just after the United States has entered The Great War in Europe, and 1968, during the then-latest of the 20th century’s endless stream of global conflicts. Rickloff spools out and intertwines the mysteries at a near-perfect pace, neither rushing the reveals nor leaving the reader completely in the dark for too long, using each small reveal to build towards the novel’s dual climaxes. Along the way, we become invested in the four women at the center of the narrative. I’ll admit, I teared up a bit at the end.

LONGER REVIEW: I joined the monthly book club at my local bookstore (Sparta Books in Sparta, NJ) partially for socialization and partly to force myself to read outside of my habitual genres (science fiction, fantasy, horror, and mystery). The Girls in Navy Blue definitely fits that description. While there is a mystery, or more accurately several mysteries, at the core of the book, it is mostly historical fiction, a genre I am not very well-read in at all, and it is more accurately early 20th century historical fiction, which I’m even less well read in.

The Girls in Navy Blue actually takes place in two distinctly different years: 1918, just after the United States has entered The Great War in Europe, and 1968, during the then-latest of the 20th century’s endless stream of global conflicts. The action in both eras takes place in the same location: an oceanside cottage in Ocean View (although the 1918 chapters also take place on the grounds of the nearby Naval hospital and a few other places). In 1918, the cabin is inhabited by three women who have joined the Navy Yeomanettes to do their part for the war effort, each of whom carries a secret or burden that motivates them. In 1968, the house is occupied by the grand-niece of one of those women. Mysteries connect the years: why did Blanche leave the house to her estranged niece Peggy? What drove the housemates and friends apart in 1918? What secrets was housemate Viv harboring? And what tragedy is Peggy running from?

Rickloff spools out and intertwines the mysteries at a near-perfect pace, neither rushing the reveals nor leaving the reader completely in the dark for too long, using each small reveal to build towards the novel’s dual climaxes. Along the way, we become invested in the four women at the center of the narrative: Blanche, a strong-willed child of privilege who finds life full of unexpected challenges; Marjory, whose German surname means constantly having to prove her patriotism; mysterious Viv, finding her way free of her past; and Peggy, reeling from unimaginable loss and trying to find her new path. In both eras, the women cope with misogyny, restrictive societal expectations, and judgement by other women. Whether the author intended it or not, this book has a lot to say about how little progress we’ve made in some aspects of society if the reader takes the time to compare not just the 1918 scenes to the 1968 scenes but also both of those to our current year.

I also found the construction of the novel interesting. The 1918 scenes are narrated in first person by Viv, while the 1968 scenes are more of a limited omniscient POV centered on Peggy. I found it an effective way to further differentiate the eras, lend a different type of immediacy to each era, and help keep the reader in tune with when each chapter was occurring (chapter headings with the year and POV character name also helped).

And I’ll readily admit – I teared up a bit at the end of the novel when everything came together.

Book Review: LOST IN THE MOMENT AND FOUND

TITLE: Lost in The Moment and Found (Wayward Children #8)

AUTHOR: Seanan McGuire

146 pages, Tordotcom Publishing, ISBN 9781250213631 (hardcover, e-book, audio)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: Lost in the Moment and Found may just be the most heartbreaking entry so far in Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series, commenting as it does on the ways in which we lose our innocence: sometimes suddenly (the unexpected death of a beloved parent; the unwanted advances of a dangerous adult) and sometimes so subtly we don’t even notice the change is happening. Content Warnings for: gaslighting, grooming, death of a parent, childhood trauma, emotional abuse of a child. But Antsy runs before anything can actually happen, and the Door that appears to her takes her to The Shop Where The Lost Things Go. Not every Door leads to Grand Adventure, but sometimes mundane things can be just as dangerous. Lost in the Moment and Found isn’t the easiest book to read in the Wayward Children series, but it is an important one with what it has to say about the ways children are manipulated and taken advantage of and about how we start on the road to healing from trauma.

LONGER REVIEW: Lost in the Moment and Found may just be the most heartbreaking entry so far in Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series. Which is not something I thought I would ever say after reading the end of In An Absent Dream (book #4), but there you have it. Because the even-numbered books in this series are stand-alone stories set in the characters’ pasts and can be read in order, I’m not going to assume anyone reading this review has read Absent Dream and spoil that ending – suffice to say, the conclusion of Lost in the Moment feels like Absent Dream’s opposite twin. People who have read both will understand what I’m getting at.

Lost in the Moment and Found is the portal story of Antionette, called “Antsy,” and it starts with the heartbreak of a child witnessing the death of a beloved parent. This is not a spoiler, as it happens in the first few pages and sets the stage for everything that will come after, but more of a Content Warning: if childhood loss of a parent disturbs you, you should go in to this book forewarned. In fact, this is one of several Content Warnings. All of the Wayward Children books deal with heavy topics, but this one involves gaslighting, grooming, emotional abuse of a child, and the clear intimation of impending sexual assault of a minor. But McGuire also assures us in an opening note: “Antsy runs. Before anything can actually happen, Antsy runs.”

And when Antsy does run, the Door that appears for her, with the traditional admonishment to Be Sure written above it, takes her to The Shop Where the Lost Things Go. Unsurprisingly, this is yet another of McGuire’s intriguing and deeply-developed portal worlds – but with a difference. There is no Quest for Antsy to go on to save the locals from a Great Evil before she can go home; there is no clear villain to overcome. There are just lost things to be catalogued and shelved until the person who lost them shows up to claim them, or until they are so forgotten they can be sold to someone else. The Shop has two other residents: a secretive and commanding old woman named Vineta, and a talking magpie named Hudson, who hire Antsy because of her ability to open the Doors that appear throughout the shop, allowing Vineta and Antsy to go shopping across myriad portal worlds. (Most of the worlds Antsy visits are worlds readers of the series have not seen before that I hope we’ll see more of – but I have to admit I might have squealed a bit in delight at the brief appearance by my favorite of the portal worlds we have seen before. I won’t spoil which one, or when it appears. It’s a fun call-out to earlier books.)

Also unsurprisingly, all is not as it seems with the Shop or its residents. The question that drives the narrative is whether or not Antsy will figure out what’s going on before it is too late for her to return home. The reader, of course, realizes the danger Antsy is in long before she does, but the reveal of the depths of that danger and its origins is beautifully revealed.

Lost in the Moment and Found comments on the ways in which we lose our innocence: sometimes suddenly (the unexpected death of a beloved parent; the unwanted advances of a dangerous adult) and sometimes so subtly we don’t even notice the change is happening (one of my favorite quotes from the book: “That’s one of the things about living in a body. It can change, but the ways it changes today will be the ways it has always been tomorrow. If the modification isn’t noted in the moment, then it can be all too easily dismissed.”). And while I found the book heartbreaking at multiple points, I also found it poignant and personal and imbued with hope that Antsy (and all of us) will eventually find the happiness and love she has lost.

Lest you think the book is a complete downer: there are plenty of moment of intrigue, of joyous exploration, and, without spoilers, comeuppance for at least some of those who deserve it. There are also hints at the nature of the portal Doors and why they appear to whom they do.

Lost in the Moment and Found isn’t the easiest book to read in the Wayward Children series, but it is an important one with what it has to say about the ways children are manipulated and taken advantage of and about how we start on the road to healing from trauma.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from TorDotCom Publishing via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Lost in the Moment and Found releases today, January 10th, 2023.

2023 RoofbeamReader TBR Challenge

Most avid readers have a “to be read” pile, in our office or near our bed: books we bought intending to read, but just haven’t gotten around to it yet. Some of us have “to be read” bookcases.

In 2023, RoofbeamReader is celebrating the 10th year of his TBR Challenge, and I’m once again participating.

You have to go to RBR’s website to officially sign up for the challenge if you want to be entered to win a gift card to Amazon or the Book Depository at year’s end but the basic rules (other than how to enter) are simple: Choose 12 books that have been on your bookshelf or “To Be Read” list for AT LEAST one full year. This means books with a publication date of 1/1/2022 or later are ineligible; books published in 2021 or earlier qualify as long as they’ve been on your TBR Pile/List. Then choose two (2) alternate titles, just in case one or two of your original twelve end up in the “did not finish” bin.

MY 2023 ROOFBEAMREADER TO BE READ CHALLENGE LIST:

1.       Young Miles, by Lois McMasters Bujold (1997) (Science fiction)

2.       Ice Land, by Betsy Tobin (2008) (historical fantasy)

3.       Let Me In, by John Ajvide Lindqvist (2004) (horror)

4.       The Mystery of the Sea, by Bram Stoker (1902, reissued in 1997) (Classics/horror)

5.       The Book of Lost Saints, by Daniel José Older (2019) (Latinx fiction/supernatural)

6.       The Red Lamp, by Mary Roberts Rinehart (1925/2018) (Mystery)

7.       Dune, by Frank Herbert (1965/2014) (Science Fiction)

8.       Gideon the Ninth, by Tamsyn Muir (2019) (Fantasy)

9.       The Prophets, by Robert Jones Jr. (2021) (historical fiction)

10.   The Celluloid Closet, by Vito Russo (1981) (non-fiction, LGBTQIA history)

11.   The Mythology of Salt and Other Stories, by Octavia Cade (2020) (mixed genres, short stories)

12.   Cemetery Boys, by Aiden Thomas (2020) (YA, transgender, fantasy)

Alternates

1.       Pangs, by Jerry L. Wheeler (2021) (Horror)

2.       Twilight at the World of Tomorrow: Genius, Madness, Murder and the 1939 World’s Fair on the Brink of War, by James Mauro (2010) (non-fiction, US history)

Book Review: INTO THE RIVERLANDS

TITLE: Into the Riverlands (Book three of the Singing Hills Cycle)

AUTHOR: Nghi Vo

100 pages, TorDotCom, ISBN 9781250851420 (hardcover, e-book, audiobook)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: Into the Riverlands is the third entry in Nghi Vo’s excellent series of novellas chronicling the adventures of Cleric Chih, a non-binary monk from the Monastery of Singing Hills, whose mission is to collect stories for preservation so that cultural memory might extend beyond the passing of the participants of the stories and those who tell them. This time, a chance encounter in a remote inn brings Chih into contact with fellow travelers straight out of a Wuxia film: a talented young martial artist, the martial artists’ traveling companion, and a husband and wife pair who know the Riverlands better than anyone Chih could hope to encounter but who may have secrets of their own. The travel scenes are full of excellent stories-within-the-story and crisp dialogue. The fight scenes, when they happen, are beautifully choreographed and come with a palpable sense of danger.

LONGER REVIEW: Into the Riverlands is the third entry in Nghi Vo’s excellent series of novellas chronicling the adventures of Cleric Chih, a non-binary monk from the Monastery of Singing Hills, whose mission is to collect stories for preservation so that cultural memory might extend beyond the passing of the participants of the stories and those who tell them. As with the previous entries, there is just the right balance of introspection and action, of listening and doing, propelling the story along and leaving questions for the reader to ruminate on.

Chih and their Neixin travel-mate Almost Brilliant (do not call her a bird, thank you very much) have dined with the former lover of an empress and faced down sentient tigers, usually using a combination of storytelling and careful questioning to resolve conflict. This time, a chance encounter in a remote inn brings Chih into contact with fellow travelers straight out of a Wuxia film: a talented young martial artist of the “Southern Monkey” school, the martial artists’ traveling companion and sworn sister, and a husband and wife pair who know the Riverlands and its history better than anyone Chih could hope to encounter but who may have secrets of their own. The trip of course is not without excitement thanks to the apparent resurgence of a legendary bandit group. The travel scenes are full of excellent stories-within-the-story and characters disagreeing with each other on some details. The fight scenes, when they happen, are beautifully choreographed and come with a palpable sense of danger. I genuinely wondered if everyone we met at the beginning of the book would survive. (No spoilers as the that.)

We learn a bit more about Chih’s personality (not vain, but aware of how a Cleric should appear; not overtly religious but aware that sometimes their duty is to perform religious ritual; not a fighter by nature but willing to stand up for what’s right and protect those who can’t protect themselves) in this book, and a better sense of the relationship between Chih and Almost Brilliant (who comes across as more bossy and egotistical and less patient than in the first book in the series (having been absent from the second)).

As usual, Vo’s dialogue is crisp and full of hidden meaning for the reader to prise out as the story develops. Characters have depths not apparent when they are first introduced – and the line between the personal, historical, and legendary is not always clear. Vo also trusts her readers to put the pieces together and doesn’t spell everything out by the end of the book, which I greatly enjoy. I found myself, days after finishing the book, thinking about the connections between the characters, the stories they told about themselves, and the history/legends they shared.

Even though this is the third book in the series, the story is completely stand-alone and can be enjoyed/understood without having to have read The Empress of Salt and Fortune or The Tiger Came Down from the Mountain. In fact, I can’t recall any obvious references to either book. If they were there, they hopefully will intrigue readers starting with this book to pick up the previous two.

I truly hope Nghi Vo has many more tales of Cleric Chih and Almost Brilliant to share with us.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

This review is very late. Into the Riverlands published on October 25, 2022

Book Review: BE THE SERPENT

TITLE: Be the Serpent (October Daye, Book 16)

AUTHOR: Seanan McGuire

368 pages, DAW Books, ISBN 9780756416867 (hardcover, e-book, audio)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: Be the Serpent, the sixteenth book in the October Daye urban fantasy series, is everything Seanan McGuire promised it would be: a major game-changer for the characters, answering at least one long-standing mystery at the heart of the franchise, and at times utterly heart-breaking. It is also, in my opinion, the best entry in the series so far. Content warning for child death. This is the book that begins to answer the question of what really happened to the Queens of Faerie, and I found it to be a highly satisfactory reveal, totally in line with clues that have been dropped since almost the very beginning of the series.

LONGER REVIEW: Be the Serpent, the sixteenth book in the October Daye urban fantasy series, is everything Seanan McGuire promised it would be: a major game-changer for the characters, answering at least one long-standing mystery at the heart of the franchise, and at times utterly heart-breaking. It is also, in my opinion, the best entry in the series so far. Which is saying something considering how much I love these books.

Let’s start with a content warning: one of the inciting incidents of this book involves the death of a child. The death is handled with tact and care and is not gratuitous. It is absolutely necessary for the story to progress the way it needs to. The reader experiences the death at a slight remove (via Toby’s ability to “ride the blood” and see people’s memories), which blunts the pain a little bit – but it still hits hard, as it is meant to. McGuire is known for not killing characters just for shock value; every character who dies in the October Day series does so because the plot demands it or because their story is done and so every death counts regardless of whether the dead character is someone the readers liked or hated. This death is no different, it just feels worse because the victim is a child. So there you are: fair warning.

Every fourth book in this series is a “big one,” changing things irrevocably for Toby, her friends, and sometimes the world of Faerie at large. Very often, this has meant Toby gaining new information about the way Faerie works. One of the series’ long-standing mysteries is “What really happened to the Queens of Faerie, Maeve and Titania?” This book is the beginning of the answer to that question. This is something fans of the series have been speculating on almost since book one, with deeply considered theories and very strong opinions. Of course, I’m not going to spoil the reveal. Some people will love it, some will hate it; I found it highly satisfactory and totally in-line with all the clues McGuire has dropped in the preceding 15 books. And as heart-breaking as many fans assumed it would be. The death of a child may incite the action, but the big reveal and its aftermath are just as tear-inducing.

This is not to say the book is a depressing slog. Despite, or perhaps because of, the heartbreak, the book is fast-paced and exciting. Certain characters’ actions and behavior are infuriating (long time readers can probably guess who I’m referring to) and certain other characters’ responses are heartwarming. There’s the usual amount of humor sprinkled throughout as well – it’s not a Toby book if there isn’t some snarky banter among her found family and appropriate flirtatious tension between Toby and her Tybalt. There are also a few interesting developments for members of the supporting cast starting with the opening scene.

I’m posting this review far enough after the publication date that most fans of the series already know this, but ---SPOILER ALERT--- the book ends on a cliffhanger, the only entry in the series to do so. Sub-plots have carried over across books, but this is a real “oh my god, what’s going to happen” ending. The good news is the next book comes out in under a year and the author has a strict “no more than one cliffhanger per series (if any at all)” policy. So this will wrap up in the next novel, which I believe is titled These Violent Delights.

As is also standard now for the October Daye series (as well as McGuire’s Incryptid series), this book contains a stand-alone novella expanding on the lore of the world in some way. This time, we get another glimpse into the largely tragic life of the Luidaeg, better known as the Sea Witch. I love every story Seanan has written expanding on this character’s long life, and this one is no exception. Like the novel that precedes it, this is not an easy novella to read – it centers emotional abuse levied against the main character by her own family and it lays open wounds that the Luidaeg still hasn’t healed in the present day of the series – wound that may in fact never be healed. Seeing such a formative moment in her life play out is heart-wrenching for those of us who love her despite (or again, perhaps because of) how scary she is.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

This review is also very late. Be the Serpent published on August 30th, 2022.

Book Review:THE NECTAR OF NIGHTMARES

TITLE: The Nectar of Nightmares

AUTHOR: Craig L. Gidney

166 pages, Underland Press, ISBN 9781630230630 (paperback, also available in e-book)

MY RATING: 4 out of 5 stars

SHORT REVIEW: The Nectar of Nightmares is an excellent introduction to the work of Craig L. Gidney. In stories that run from the erotic to the romantic, from the subtly horrific to the gorily terrifying, Gidney takes on the loneliness, yearning for connection, self-images issues, and homophobia that are almost endemic to queer lives and particularly queer Black lives. Along the way, he draws on classic fairy tales, historic settings, and a variety of horror sub-genres.

LONG REVIEW:

The Nectar of Nightmares is an excellent introduction to the work of Craig L. Gidney. In stories that run from the erotic to the romantic, from the subtly horrific to the gorily terrifying, Gidney takes on the loneliness, yearning for connection, self-images issues, and homophobia that are almost endemic to queer lives and particularly queer Black lives. Along the way, he draws on classic fairy tales, historic settings, and a variety of horror sub-genres.

The collection opens strong with “Beneath the Briar Patch,” a riff on traditional Bre’r Rabbit/Bre’r Fox oral tales. Where the traditional tales (at least as far as I’m familiar with them) are light-hearted and usually impart moral lessons, Gidney’s tale takes a more supernatural turn as the Tar Baby Brother Rabbit gets stuck to pulls him into the otherworldly briar patch. The omniscient narrator of the story has a very relaxed, colloquial, storyteller’s voice and I can easily see this being told around a campfire. I loved the way Gidney employed the classic “rule of three’s” storytelling trick throughout the story: three reasons Fox plays the tar baby trick on Rabbit, three rumors about the creature that rules in the briar patch, three encounters with supernatural beings in the briar patch, and other groups of three (juggling three balls/6 knives; 6 animals present at the briar patch bar) throughout the story.

I don’t have space to comment on every story individually in this post, but here are thoughts on some of the stories that stood out for me. Your mileage may vary, of course.

“Myth and Moor” gives us Emily Brontë as a child, encountered the ghost of a boy who has recently died and trying to find out what the ghost wants from her. Emily is clearly lonely, yearning for a connection with someone who will understand and accept her ability to see – although not talk to – ghosts. She does find such a person in this story, but the person is not what she expected.

In “Fur and Gold,” Gidney gives us a gay riff on the tale of Beauty and the Beast that is closer kin to the original tales than to the Disney version. Gidney delves into the beast’s loss of sense of identity and decline into a creature of instinct and primal needs in a story that feels elegiac even while delivering a strong message about the importance of consent.

From fantasy France, Gidney moves us to the Harlem Renaissance in “Black-Winged Roses,” a tale of transgender folks discovering and taking pride in who they are and what they can do while under assault by a hateful and self-hating preacher. This story is full of strong women who will take no shit and is one of my favorites in the collection. I suspect I’ll be re-reading this one often.

“Spyder Threads,” which I’d previously listened to as part of Nightfire’s audio-only short story collection Come Join Us By The Fire, Volume 2, is an intriguing mix of body horror and fantasy, a commentary both on how society treats people whose bodies don’t fit into the current social media paradigm and on how far people with low self-esteem because of that treatment will go to feel special. The shorter, punchier “Mirror Bias” attacks that same body image issue from a slightly different angle.

In “Sacred She-Devil,” Gidney gives us a near-perfect urban fantasy noir, in which main character Opal has the power to summon the ghosts of murdered women who were victims of sexual violence. It’s not an easy story to read, but it is a vital one. Especially as it plays with, and neatly subverts, the over-used trope of subjecting female characters to sexual violence to motivate male characters to “do great things.” I would love to see more stories with Opal.

I would be remiss if I did not mention “Desiccant,” a story which made it into the inaugural edition of The Year’s Best African Speculative Fiction (2021), which just days before I’m posting this won the World Fantasy Award for Best Anthology. “Desiccant” focuses on a trans woman forced to move into a very impoverished building, where she, like her neighbors, falls ill because of the environment they are forced to endure. The story touches on systemic lack of attention to how contaminated living environments disproportionately affect marginalized populations. The fact that there is a supernatural explanation for the ongoing health issue does not take away from the importance of the issue. Fair warning: there are also moments of transphobia in the story (as, sadly, there would be in real life).

The collection closes as strongly as it starts, with the title story “The Nectar of Nightmares,” in which three quite different individuals encounter a powerful dream being. I may have given too much away even saying that much – it’s a story about the way our nightmares feed off our anxiety, body dysmorphia, feelings of inadequacy, and more.

Book Review: INTO THE WINDWRACKED WILDS

TITLE: Into the Windwracked Wilds (The Up-and-Under Book 3)

AUTHOR: A. Deborah Baker

213 pages, Tor.com Publishing, ISBN 9781250848444 (hardcover/e-book/audiobook)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: In the third book in A. Deborah Baker’s Up-and-Under portal fantasy series, protagonists Avery and Zib seem no closer to finding their way home – but they are much closer to being actual friends instead of happenstance travel-mates. The interplay between the cautious Avery and the impulsive Zib continues to be the heart of the series, as they work to find common ground and a way of understanding each other. By saying that the kids seem no closer to finding home, I don’t mean to imply that their journey lacks momentum or change. Zib and Avery are growing and learning throughout this adventure, as they leave the Saltwise Sea behind and enter the Land of Air and face an encounter with the Queen of Swords. Each encounter with royalty of the Up-and-Under so far has been dangerous, and this one is no exception.

LONGER REVIEW: In the third book in A. Deborah Baker’s Up-and-Under portal fantasy series, protagonists Avery and Zib (two children, one boy and one girl, the same age but very different in personality, who lived three doors down from each other but who had never met until they climbed Over the Woodward Wall in the first book of the series) seem no closer to finding their way home – but they are much closer to being actual friends instead of happenstance travel-mates.

To rules-following Avery, the Up-and-Under continues to be confounding as there are no obvious consistent rules to follow and every time someone explains how things work he just gets more confused. But even adventurous Zib is nearing her wits’ end as obstacles to completing their journey crop up and her impulsive responses make situations worse instead of better. The interplay between the cautious Avery and the impulsive Zib continues to be the heart of the series, as they work to find common ground and a way of understanding each other. As with the best children’s literature, there are lessons to be learned – about friendship, about patience, about really listening, about not giving away things that don’t belong to you, about being careful what you wish for. None of these lessons are bludgeoned over the reader’s head; the author is too capable and has too much respect for the intelligence of her audience (regardless of their age) for that – but they are present nonetheless.

By saying that the kids seem no closer to finding home, I don’t mean to imply that their journey lacks momentum or change. This is not a series where the status quo is maintained and each book ends with the characters right back where they started. Zib and Avery are growing and learning throughout this adventure, as they leave the Saltwise Sea behind and enter the Land of Air and face an encounter with the Queen of Swords. Each encounter with royalty of the Up-and-Under so far has been dangerous, and this one is no exception. While I had faith that Avery and Zib have a certain amount of “plot armor” (which doesn’t mean they can’t be hurt, just that they’re more likely to survive the series), I genuinely feared at one point for the continued health of their friend the Crow Girl, especially due to the Crow Girl’s history with the Queen of Swords. No spoilers as to how that turns out, of course.

The fact that I was concerned, though, should tell you just how well developed the supporting cast (Crow Girl, Niamh the drowned girl) are. They are as important to the forward momentum of the series as the two leads, and their mysteries drive the narrative as much as Avery and Zib’s simple wish to find the missing Queen of Wands and finally gain access to the Impossible City that will lead them home. The supporting cast continues to grow in this (I believe to be) penultimate book in the series, and I think my fellow readers will be intrigued by the newest addition to the team.

The series as a whole, but this book in particular, also seems to have a lot to say for how adults prepare their children for the world. Avery’s parents were very strict and controlling (but not unloving), while Zib’s gave her more free rein (which does not indicate a lack of care). The fraught relationship of parent and child is really explored in this volume, and it gave me a lot to think about (as an adult with no kids of my own, but a small army of nieces and nephews I would place myself in grave danger to protect).

It probably should be noted that the Up-and-Under books are written by Seanan McGuire under the pen name A. Deborah Baker, because in the world of McGuire’s novels Middlegame and Seasonal Fears, Baker’s children’s series is as well known as the Oz, Narnia, and Wonderland books are in our world. You don’t have to read the two novels to understand anything at all about these books other than knowing why McGuire chose the pen-name she did. If I recall correctly, the Up-and-Under is a long series (12 books? 16?) in that world, but McGuire is only planning to write the first four for us. I anticipate a lot will happen to Avery, Zib, and their friends in the final book before the kids find their way home, and I look forward to reading it in late 2023.

I also can’t close out this review with complimenting the cover art of the series so far. David Curtis’s covers are beautiful, evocative, and so perfectly consistent in design that I would love to own them as posters.

Book Review: VICTORY HARBEN: FIRES OF HALOS

TITLE: Victory Harben: Fires of Halos

AUTHOR: Christopher Paul Carey

404 pages, Edgar Rice Burroughs Inc., ISBN 9781945462498 (hardcover, paperback, collector’s edition hardcover)

MY RATING: 5 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: Victory Harben: Fires of Halos, written by Christopher Paul Carey, is classic Edgar Rice Burroughs interplanetary adventure from start to finish, a worthy continuation of the first true interconnected universe in fiction. Victory Harben is a new character in that universe, every bit as smart, sassy, resilient and strong as Burroughs’ own Jane Porter, Dejah Thoris and Duare, all of whom were easily a match for the men in whose books they appeared. The novel is non-stop action that takes our heroine from a setting most Burroughs fans are intimately familiar with, Pellucidar, to one fans may be less familiar with, the Omos star system of one of Burroughs’ final books, the short novel Beyond the Farthest Star. Carey’s facility with creating alien worlds, societies, and wildlife is wondrous and perfectly Burroughsian, as Victory navigates her way through as many near-death encounters as her forebears Carter and Carson. The interplanetary roller-coaster leads to a well-earned finale that wraps up the major threads of the novel nicely while leaving plenty of room for future Victory Harben novels. Burroughs fans both life-long and intermittent will not be disappointed.

LONGER REVIEW: Victory Harben: Fires of Halos is a landmark book in the history of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. for several reasons. First, it brings to a conclusion the first set of new officially canonical Edgar Rice Burroughs Universe books released since the Master of Adventure died in 1950 and the last of his original works was released (barring a Tarzan novel later completed by Joe Lansdale). Yes, there have been plenty of novels and comic books released in the decades since featuring Burroughs’ most well-known characters, many of them published in recent years by ERB Inc directly, but it is only in the past few years that the company has started declaring certain novels as official additions to the Canon, based on how closely those books hew not just to the timeline of Burroughs’ original works but also the style, pacing and intent. Tarzan novels by Fritz Lieber and Philip Jose Farmer released in the 1970s have been officially canonized, along with Pellucidar novels by John Eric Holmes – and of course the four novels that comprise the “Swords of Eternity Super-Arc,” of which Fires of Halos is the final installment.

Victory Harben: Fires of Halos, written by Christopher Paul Carey, is classic Burroughs interplanetary adventure from start to finish. It opens with the author, at work in the ERB offices in Tarzana, California, receiving a message sent across space and time by Victory Harben, ready to relate her latest adventure for his transcription and fictionalization (to cover up details the world isn’t ready to know or believe yet) – just the way Burroughs received such messages from John Carter and Carson Napier among others. Told in first person narration by Victory Harben after that brief introduction, the novel is non-stop action that takes our heroine from a setting most Burroughs fans are intimately familiar with, Pellucidar, to one fans may be less familiar with, the Omos star system of one of Burroughs’ final books, the short novel Beyond the Farthest Star. There are stops in locales familiar (Barsoom!) and new (Kjarna! Zandar! Both of which I hope we’ll see more of in future novels). Carey’s facility with creating alien worlds, societies, and wildlife is wondrous and perfectly Burroughsian, as Victory navigates her way through as many near-death encounters with wild animals and angry aliens as her forebears Carter and Carson. The interplanetary roller-coaster leads to a well-earned finale that wraps up the major threads of the novel nicely while leaving plenty of room for future Victory Harben novels.

The second reason Victory Harben: Fires of Halos is a landmark novel in the publisher’s history is that it is the first new canonical novel to headline a character not created by Burroughs himself. Part of ERB Inc’s current efforts to revitalize the ERB Universe includes expanding it to include new characters with connections to the classic Burroughs creations. In her previous novella and comic book appearances, we’ve seen Victory study under Tarzan, Jason Gridley, David Innes and Abner Perry as well as encounter Caspak (The Land That Time Forgot) and Carson of Venus. And of course her mother, uncle, and grandfather are all characters who first appeared in supporting roles in various Tarzan novels. The three previous novels in the “Swords of Eternity Super-Arc” featured Carson of Venus, Tarzan, and John Carter, but here Victory gets the spotlight. And make no mistake: she is a character in the classic Burroughs mold – as smart, sassy, resilient and strong as Burroughs’ own Jane Porter, Dejah Thoris and Duare, all of whom were easily a match for the men in whose books they appeared. Victory Harben as a character is a terrific addition to the ERB Universe, a character I am sure we’ll see taking the lead in many more novels.

The book is rounded out with “Rescue on Zandar,” a novella by Mike Wolfer that further expands the ERB Universe by giving us the back story of Tii-Laa, a native of Zandar who first appeared in the recent ERB comic mini-series Beyond the Farthest Star: Warriors of Zandar alongside Victory Harben. In the novella, we get a Tii-Laa who is only just starting to realize how different she is from the rest of her race. Her confusion about being different and not fitting in, her defiance of constrictive societal norms, and her self-acceptance infuse the story with a modern feel without detracting from the classic Burroughs pulp-adventure pace. (And again, the pace is rapid-fire, with several interesting new creatures to survive encounters with.)

I have tried to keep this review as spoiler-free as possible while still hopefully getting across the sheer fun, excitement, and yes, importance, of the book. Burroughs fans both life-long and intermittent will not be disappointed in Victory Harben: Fires of Halos.

I received an advance reading pdf of this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Victory Harben: Fires of Halos is due out in November, and can be pre-ordered in hardcover, collector’s edition hardcover, or trade paperback editions directly from the Edgar Rice Burroughs Inc website.)