Bookish Thoughts

I picked this book up for some fun fluff. A supernatural fantasy featuring a vampire and a werewolf (and ultimately a witch, but that's the sequel) was exactly what I needed this past Valentine's Day. I wanted something light and silly, and it is that. There are lots of fun puns and references to other books. When Lydia and Kitty Collins are introduced, you barely even need a character description because you know exactly who they are based on their names alone. The author was clearly influenced by Terry Pratchett. And much like a Pratchett book, all that fun and silliness is hiding a profound rage at the world. The social commentary is pointed, even as this world is, in some ways, safer than our own. Which is all to say that this book had a lot more depth and plot than I was expecting. But that didn't take away from the lighthearted fun, and it actually has me excited for the next installment in the series. I can't wait to see how Ursula, the witch who barely appears i

 Murderbot might be one of the best fictional characters out there. Its desire to just sit in a closet and watch tv is at constant war with its compulsion to protect all the humans around it, and it makes for a wonderfully grumpy and relatable hero. I was so excited to finally get a full length novel in this series (and was just a little disappointed to learn that the next book - Fugitive Telemetry - is back to novella size). In the fifth book, Murderbot reunite with ART, which is all I've wanted since I finished the second book. The two team up to save a bunch of humans from weird alien remnants. They fight and make up and learn how to have a relationship. Murderbot's actually starting to get pretty good at relationships. Well, halfway decent. This was a really fun book with lots of action and snarky humor. I can't wait to get my hands on the next one. I hope Martha Wells never stops writing this series.

Full disclosure: I went to high school with one of the authors of this novelette. This was an absolutely adorable story about the importance of connection and a nice reminder that life isn't over until it's over. Feral is an old dragon, more or less confined to his cave. He spends all his time reminiscing about the glory days, and complaining about everything around him. When a human girl arrives at his cave in need of rescuing, it jolts him out of his complacency.  There was a lot of fun humor in here, and Feral's journey from curmudgeonly loner to adoring grandfather-figure was fun. There were things I wanted to know more about (like Morsel's history), not because I felt like their lack took away from the story, just because I wanted more. But that's the sign of a perfect morsel - it leaves you wanting more.

The Witch's Heart was an absolutely delightful retelling of Norse mythology. It centers on Angroda, a witch with the gift of prophecy. After fleeing Odin, who will do anything to learn what she can see, she falls in love with Loki and builds a family with him in the woods. But she can't hide forever. As the book marches relentlessly on towards Ragnarok, she does her best to try and save her children from their fate. I loved this re-imagining of the classic myths, and it re-awoke my interest in Norse Mythology in general. I'd never heard of Angroboda before, but I recognized some of the stories about Loki and Thor and Freya. Those stories are usually the main attraction, but here they're side stories - Loki's excuses for not being around more. It also built on Skadi, who I recognized immediate because one of my best friends named her car Skadi in high school. It was so much fun to get caught up in this world. And the best trick that Gornichec pulled was the passage

 I've been meaning to read Sarah Gailey every since I heard about their very first novella, River of Teeth. I finally bought Magic for Liars and then Tor.com made Upright Women Wanted one of the free books of the month. I'm so glad I finally read it, because now I'm even more excited for all of Gailey's work. Good thing I've already got one of her books sitting on my shelf. I went into this book assuming it took place in the far past. I have no real justification for that assumption except that this book reads like a western, and westerns are generally a past thing. But this book actually takes place in a dystopian future, where all the trappings of the wild west have come back. The Librarians are slowly revealed as outlaws, hiding in plain sight. And Esther's desire to join up with them gets turned on its head when she finds out the sort of work they really do. I absolutely loved this book, and I wish it had been fleshed out into a full novel if only because

  The Dark Interval is a series of letters of condolence that the poet Ranier Maria Rilke wrote to various friends over his life. Each is addressed to someone who has just suffered a loss, whether of a spouse, a parent, a sibling, or a friend. Each attempts to console the survivor while Rilke explains his view of death. I found this collection to be, of all things, affirming. Which was really unexpected. This passage, in particular, really spoke to me: ...you must continue his life inside of yours insofar as it was unfinished; his life has now passed onto yours. You, who truly knew him, can quite truly continue in his spirit and on his path. Make it the task of your mourning to explore what he had expected of you, had hoped for you, had wished to happen to you. If I could just convince you, dear friend, that his influence has not vanished from your existence. When Kevin passed, I set about trying to finish his unfinished business. I moved forward with house projects we'd bee

Reading a novel by Ursula K LeGuin is rarely as simple as reading a novel. When I first started reading her work, it always felt like an argument. She is someone who has thought deeply about what she believes and her work considers a lot of different points of view. I never agreed with her fully, but she was so knowledgeable and sharp that her writing forced me to become more knowledgeable and sharp. Her work never let me be complacent in my beliefs. I always found myself having to defend my own point of view against the one she presented, because she made me consider things I hadn't before. Reading LeGuin is work, but good work, work worth doing. Her books have always made me a smarter, better person. Always Coming Home is a departure in that it felt like a conversation but not an argument. I'm not sure if that's because I've come around to LeGuin's way of seeing things as I've aged or if it's just that this book is so gentle. It's incredibly radical,