Review: A Song Only We Can Hear: A novel about cancer, music & love

A Song Only We Can Hear: A novel about cancer, music & love by Elliot Wake
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

After ten years away from the scene, Elliot Wake has returned at last with a new book that plays just a little bit lighter than the dark thrillers he was known for when he was getting started, but it's also got a foot in the well of black comedy and a foot in the well of relationship drama. Centering on a musical young man named Cam who's been struggling to break away from a very toxic relationship - his narcissistic influencer ex Tara being exactly the type to manipulate not only him, but also an entire social media following, painting herself as an abuser's victim in a perfectly infuriating example of DARVO - he's now dealing with cancer and chemo on top of everything else. Wake's previous books predate #MeToo, but this book incorporates it into the storyline as part of Tara's sinister social media grifting in ways that wouldn't be out of place in Black Iris or Bad Boy, and I'd be willing to bet Black Iris themselves would have their eye on Tara once they figure out the truth.

Review: Field Guide for the Formerly Villainous

Field Guide for the Formerly Villainous by Autumn K. England
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I didn’t realize until after I actually opened this book that it came from the author of one of my old faves from back in my bookstore ARC collecting days: The Disasters. Like that book, this one is a casually hyper inclusive narrative, this time in a cozy fantasy setting where queerness is accepted and encouraged. But there’s still a certain undercurrent of awfulness in the society of this little village, with a dread Inquisitor still chasing down the former acolytes of the evil Enchantrix (on which note, I have to say, this book is so queer-normative that the villain is nonbinary and even the local church doesn’t have a problem with that specifically), and unfortunately protagonist Oaklin is one of them. But the book is all about Oaklin learning to move on from their trauma, and make no mistake, the Enchantrix used them and countless others, while the church had the paladins kill first and ask questions never. But now that everyone’s in a sleepy farming village after the war, it’s time they all got along…and while this book stands alone, the note at the end suggests England is planning to write at least one more anthological entry…

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Review: The Caretaker

The Caretaker by Marcus Kliewer
My rating: 1 of 5 stars

My friend, when he came back from Canada, bought this book at YVR Airport and recommended it highly. It seemed like it'd be perfect for me too, so I bought a copy from B&N - half price after working in my membership discount, 20% off, plus a $5 reward. After reading it, though? I'm glad I didn't pay full price, because as much as it looked like my kind of book, it really, really wasn't.

To be fair, the author includes a content warning about how much this book doesn't sugarcoat its dealings in mental illness - depression, OCD, suicide. He indicates in the acknowledgments too that he's got some history with these issues himself. And yet, his execution of this book, as an allegory for mental illness, crosses into outright offensive territory for numerous reasons.

Review: Songs of the Dead

Songs of the Dead by Brandon Sanderson
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This one definitely doesn’t feel much like Sanderson, aside from the presence of a strongly defined magic system. Otherwise, it feels like he’s the executive producer at best, and this is truly Peter Orullian’s brainchild, which makes sense given how hella metal it is. Laden with references to rock and metal music alike, with an angelic type character who feels like a knockoff of Castiel from Supernatural - seriously, he’s called Cassius, and his arch af way of speaking contrasts sharply with the more down to earth protagonist Jack - I can see why the GR rating is so low for this one, but it still managed to keep my interest well enough to read in almost one sitting.

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Review: Persians: The Age of the Great Kings

Persians: The Age of the Great Kings by Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

As a modern history of the ancient Persians, this book tries to accomplish a tricky balancing act of being as accurate as possible, despite a general dearth of primary resources outside the ruins of Persepolis, and rejecting the early Orientalism of Greek histories that had every reason to paint an enemy nation in the worst possible light. Of course, the professor behind this text does acknowledge that there’s certainly some unsavory truth to even the distortions of Herodotus. We’re talking about an imperial power, after all. They put on a veneer of being tolerant and cosmopolitan, but they kept slaves all over the place, they had eunuchs and harem wives constantly making power plays in court, and the kings themselves were prone to grandiosity and disturbing sexual excess worthy of Game of Thrones. But also, this book shows how the Persians didn’t just spring from Ahuramazda’s head fully formed (sorry, wrong mythos), but formed instead as descendants of truly ancient Steppe peoples, branching off from the same tribes that would later give us the likes of Genghis Khan. And now, I also understand a few more of Shannon Chakraborty’s historical references- namely, the Daevas being named for a type of supernatural figure in ancient Persian folklore.

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Review: The Rainshadow Orphans

The Rainshadow Orphans by Naomi Ishiguro
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Unlike her father Sir Kazuo Ishiguro in terms of style, Naomi Ishiguro makes her mark with a sprawling, lavish cyberpunk fantasy that owes much to not only its anime inspirations, but also to the likes of the leading fantasy ladies of the 21st century who came before her. Leigh Bardugo in particular comes to mind, as does Hafsah Faisal. But it also feels like a slow-burning Ghibli masterpiece in text form, ready and waiting for its own eventual film adaptation - and if Naomi Ishiguro is half as successful as her father, it won’t be long before that adaptation comes along to bring this book even more to life than ever.

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Review: Cleah's Bequest

Cleah's Bequest by Mari Matthias
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Mari Matthias shifts away from the historical fiction of her debut novel, in favor of a more contemporary piece (technically still a period piece, though, as it's set in 2014-15) following the adult children of Cleah Lucky as they carry out the intensely detailed requests in her will for a year in order to receive their intended inheritances. On the surface, Cleah makes it seem as if her sole goal is to get her children to have a good strong family relationship once again, but we're seeing the whole thing from the perspectives of her children, whichever one has to carry Cleah's urn as part of the Bequest. They were estranged from Cleah for a reason, and to them, the Bequest feels like a string of final middle fingers from a cold, controlling, egotistical mother, whose urn lurks in the background of most scenes and creeps the hell out of the kids and even their own kids.