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Fiction: lots of series authors (and a few not)
Ilona Andrews, Magic Breaks: I didn’t like this Kate Daniels book as much as previous ones, in part because Andrews (or the publisher) is so worried about what we remember, or maybe trying to lure new readers in, that there is not only an introductory list of characters with a sentence on their relationships but also a bunch of infodumps about characters—in one case, repeated twice within the narrative making a total of three times we heard about this tragic backstory, in the same words. So I started off mildly annoyed. Other than that, Kate’s father finally knows about her and is coming for her and the whole city of Atlanta. Andrews faces the classic leveling up problem: having created a villain exponentially more powerful than the hero, where do you go from there? The solution, which involves Kate’s father testing her in various ways, is decent in that it relies on an actual family bond that gives him reason not to kill her, though Andrews does pull a few punches in terms of consequences. The ending is enough of a game changer to set up a whole new kind of adventure, so I will probably be coming back—but I really hope they’ll cut back on the previouslys.
Ben Aaronovitch, Broken Homes: Peter Grant is moving forward in his magical studies, chasing the Faceless Man, and investigating a new series of crimes apparently connected to the Faceless Man and also to a huge residential tower whose high-aspiring architecture collided with reality. While Peter’s love life makes some guest appearances, this is basically a procedural magic investigation with a shocking conclusion that made me very angry that the next book isn’t yet published. Peter’s caution avoids some classic dumb moves, but the Faceless Man remains not just faceless but really unclear, which might be a sign of a smart villain but I hope won’t delay a satisfying resolution too long.
Charles Stross, The Rhesus Chart: Bob Howard, civil servant and part of Britain’s silent war against Lovecraftian horrors, this time around faces new challenges including vampires (which no one, even in his branch, believes in), his wife’s increasing stress given the terrors of her own job playing a death-dealing violin, and the return of an ex-girlfriend, which connects to both of the previous problems. I very much enjoy the Laundry Files, and the ending left me extremely agitated for Bob and Mo—I want those crazy kids to work it out, and also to survive the coming apocalypse.
Frances Hardinge, Cuckoo Song: Every Hardinge book has the same basic skeleton: a girl (once a boy) just on the cusp of puberty discovers that the world as she thought she knew it, as difficult as that was to live in, is actually much more disturbing and dangerous; she has to use her wits and particularly her ability to make friends/allies to survive. This is not to say that the books are in any way the “same” story. On that skeleton, Hardinge puts a variety of different, compelling magical worlds, described with terrible beauty. This one involves Triss, who wakes one day having nearly drowned in the river the day before. Her little sister Pen is angrier and more defiant than ever, and her parents more agitated—even more than they’ve been ever since her older brother Sebastian died in the Great War. Triss realizes that something is very wrong with her, and that she only has a few days to fix it. The story is about the transformation of magic in a rapidly changing world, but also about Triss finding herself.
Unfettered, ed. Shawn Speakman: collection of stories, generally from preexisting universes. Authors include Terry Brooks, Patrick Rothfuss (more of a prose poem), Tad Williams, Carrie Vaughn, Jacqueline Carey (from her Kushiel series), Daniel Abraham (rape allegory that I guess is more powerful if you haven’t previously consciously thought about being vulnerable to members of a group you encounter on a daily basis), Kevin Hearne, Naomi Novik (awesome Temeraire story that could be read either as the space AU or, by stretching wildly, as some namesakes hundreds of years later), Lev Grossman (quirky combination of Narnia setting and hipster voice), and Terry Brooks. Probably worth checking out if you can’t get enough of one or more of the included authors.
Ben Aaronovitch, Broken Homes: Peter Grant is moving forward in his magical studies, chasing the Faceless Man, and investigating a new series of crimes apparently connected to the Faceless Man and also to a huge residential tower whose high-aspiring architecture collided with reality. While Peter’s love life makes some guest appearances, this is basically a procedural magic investigation with a shocking conclusion that made me very angry that the next book isn’t yet published. Peter’s caution avoids some classic dumb moves, but the Faceless Man remains not just faceless but really unclear, which might be a sign of a smart villain but I hope won’t delay a satisfying resolution too long.
Charles Stross, The Rhesus Chart: Bob Howard, civil servant and part of Britain’s silent war against Lovecraftian horrors, this time around faces new challenges including vampires (which no one, even in his branch, believes in), his wife’s increasing stress given the terrors of her own job playing a death-dealing violin, and the return of an ex-girlfriend, which connects to both of the previous problems. I very much enjoy the Laundry Files, and the ending left me extremely agitated for Bob and Mo—I want those crazy kids to work it out, and also to survive the coming apocalypse.
Frances Hardinge, Cuckoo Song: Every Hardinge book has the same basic skeleton: a girl (once a boy) just on the cusp of puberty discovers that the world as she thought she knew it, as difficult as that was to live in, is actually much more disturbing and dangerous; she has to use her wits and particularly her ability to make friends/allies to survive. This is not to say that the books are in any way the “same” story. On that skeleton, Hardinge puts a variety of different, compelling magical worlds, described with terrible beauty. This one involves Triss, who wakes one day having nearly drowned in the river the day before. Her little sister Pen is angrier and more defiant than ever, and her parents more agitated—even more than they’ve been ever since her older brother Sebastian died in the Great War. Triss realizes that something is very wrong with her, and that she only has a few days to fix it. The story is about the transformation of magic in a rapidly changing world, but also about Triss finding herself.
Unfettered, ed. Shawn Speakman: collection of stories, generally from preexisting universes. Authors include Terry Brooks, Patrick Rothfuss (more of a prose poem), Tad Williams, Carrie Vaughn, Jacqueline Carey (from her Kushiel series), Daniel Abraham (rape allegory that I guess is more powerful if you haven’t previously consciously thought about being vulnerable to members of a group you encounter on a daily basis), Kevin Hearne, Naomi Novik (awesome Temeraire story that could be read either as the space AU or, by stretching wildly, as some namesakes hundreds of years later), Lev Grossman (quirky combination of Narnia setting and hipster voice), and Terry Brooks. Probably worth checking out if you can’t get enough of one or more of the included authors.