This review will tell you what any Google search would say: Naomi Novik’s Uprooted is real good, and you should read it now. The rest of this post will just be that sentence repeated with different emphases (Uprooted is good, and you should read it now) and a few rambling ideas on what makes it so good. You’ve been warned. (more…)
A rustling sound in the tall grasses–suddenly, a blogger emerges from the undergrowth, straggle-haired and tattered–“I have a new review!” she whispers, before disappearing back into the brush, not to emerge for months.
This has been a Jumanji-like retelling of my experience as a blogger. I like to read books, and I like to review them, but I also like to disappear into the gaps of the interwebs and lurk for months, or reread books I don’t want to review, or just lie in the June sun and forget that the internet is even a thing.
But I did write this review for Strange Horizons a few weeks ago, and forgot to post it! Kaleidoscope is a lovely anthology, that does lovely things, including teaching me how to spell ‘kaleidoscope.” Kallidoscope. Kaliedescope. Fuck.
Once (in New York City) upon a time (about now), there were two sisters named Marjorie and Holly. Their unexceptional middle-class childhoods were shadowed only by their grandfather’s eerie, haunting bedtime stories—about the White Rebbe, about ghostly young boys haunting Old World villages, about the Sabbath Light and the Angel of Losses.
Stephanie Feldman’s debut novel The Angel of Losses is like that: A delicate mix of mysticism and modernity, folktale and history. It’s a book made of opposites. Half the narrative is a present-day family drama about a woman renegotiating her relationships with her sister and her grandfather—light, mundane, modern. But the other half is a dark, mystical examination of sacrifice, and the cost of love. It’s this grimmer, eerier side that makes the book so worth reading…….More over at Strange Horizons!
Winter has come to Kentucky. And before you northerners chuckle to yourselves and say “those poor bastards wouldn’t know winter if it danced naked in a snowdrift with christmas ornaments in its hair,” let me tell you: it’s our biggest snowfall in 17 years and it’s not getting above freezing until Saturday. It counts. So, the first story this week is fittingly titled, “In Winter.” (more…)
And lo, there were more short story reviews a week later! Are you impressed with me? I’m impressed with me. The theme this week (note: there is no theme) is surprisingly dark tales of violence, loss, and acceptance. (more…)