Review: Frozen Orbit by Patrick Chiles

Frozen Orbit by Patrick Chiles
My rating: 2.5 of 5 stars
Publication Date: January 7, 2020


Four astronauts blast off in a nuclear-powered ship en route to Pluto, chasing after a secret decades-old Soviet mission that went awry. (I'd recommend readers avoid this book's Amazon/Goodreads description, as it basically spoils the big reveal. And not subtly, either.)

This was . . . not to my taste. Hard science fiction soars when it explores new realms of the possible, but it's also infamous for flat characters, tedious science descriptions, and emotionless prose. Frozen Orbit, alas, falls prey to two of those three mighty sins: the characters are pretty lifeless and the prose tends to plod. Moments that should feel emotional instead feel hollow, clunky. (I actually found the scientific descriptions to be somewhat interesting, which is unusual for me in this subgenre. )

The political machinations at home seemed unrealistic, and I didn't find any of the subplots (the 'mystery' of the Soviet commander's journal, the A.I., the relations between the crew) very engaging. It takes about two-thirds of the book to actually get to Pluto, which surprised me, and not in a good way; the early sections felt almost like filler.

Overall, I thought the description made the book sound a lot more interesting than it turned out to be---in part, I suspect, because the description basically spoils the 'mystery' of what was waiting at Pluto.

I received a free copy from Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review.

Review: A Cosmology of Monsters by Shaun Hamill

A Cosmology of Monsters by Shaun Hamill
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Publication Date: September 17, 2019



For all its Lovecraftian references, A Cosmology of Monsters is a deeply human story: of monsters both literal and figurative, of the petty pains and beautiful heartbreaks of the horror-haunted Turner family and the monsters they meet, embody, and unleash. The scourges of mental illness, the soul-sucking micro-pains of a life lived at the ragged edge of the middle class, and the daily suffocations that family---the people that you can never truly escape---require . . . these things combine with rather more tangible horrors, some very literal monsters in the dark, to create a story that manages depth without sacrificing its fantastical elements for the sake of its metaphors. (As I began reading this, part of me was afraid the monsters would be figurative. Rest assured, this is literal horror. The monsters that stalk the Turner family are very real, though much of the book is devoted to the more mundane monstrosities we ordinary folk experience: poverty, sickness, conflicts within the family, etc.).

Overall, I enjoyed this quite a lot. I won't speak too much about the plot, as the mystery of what's actually going on is part of the fun. Suffice to say, we follow here the lives of an ordinary American family whose lives are drenched in horror. From a father's love of horror fiction and haunted houses, passed down to his children and eventually serving as a family business (in the creation of a haunted house called The Wandering Dark), to the more more mundane horrors of poverty, sickness, and familial clashes, to literal horrors in the dark that haunt each generation of Turners, this is a horror novel quite literally about horror.

It takes a lot of skill to mesh the mundane with the fantastical in a way that that diminishes neither, and this depiction of American life is almost as unsettling as the eldritch City that haunts and hunts our characters. The marriage that 'should' have every element needed for success and fortune, smashed against the rocks of small dreams, smaller incomes, and the lack of fulfillment so endemic to so many lives. The running of a small business, the closest thing to a religion that America has, treated like the daily grind of precariousness that it oh-so-often is. The institution of the family, that most sacred thing, twisted and rotted into an inescapable prison.

I see this is being categorized under cosmic horror, but that's not an entirely accurate description. This story's bones lie in The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, not in what I'll refer to as the Innsmouth/Cthulhu 'shelf' of cosmic horror. In other words: this isn't really about the horror of the unknowable, the madness of glimpsing what man is not meant to know---it's about the riders on the night winds, monsters both seen and touched, and an eldritch, inescapable land which we must, and must never, visit.

I did have some quibbles. A group of characters appear that I found rather plot device-y, and the ending, which I found (overall) to be very appropriate and satisfying, did have a couple of illogical elements and some things I thought should have been fleshed out a bit more. But overall, this was a well-told story with an interesting plot, something horror fans and non-horror fans should definitely both enjoy.

Review: The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher

The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Publication Date: October 1, 2019


Upon the death of her grandmother, a freelance editor grabs her glorious dog Bongo and heads off to to clean out her grandmother's rural North Carolina house. Said grandmother was quite a bitch, which isn't really relevant to the plot (except in one somewhat hilarious way that I kept expecting to be expounded upon or subverted, but never actually was). Said grandmother was also a hoarder, which definitely is relevant to the plot, as it turns a quick clean-up into a much longer affair. And as the days pass and the shadows lengthen, our oh-so-unlucky narrator discovers certain eldritch truths lurking in the forest surrounding the house. And then she discovers that certain of those has decided to follow her back to the house. (She also discovers that Bongo is both the best and worst of dogs. You'll see what I mean there.)

The first three-quarters of The Twisted Ones is one of the best horror novels I've read in a long, long while, the sort of book I kept reading late at night and then yelling at myself for reading late at night, because every wind gust and house creak was suddenly causing me to freeze in place while trying not to glance in shadowed corners.

However and most unfortunately, as we reach the home stretch, that carefully-built sense of dread just up and dissipates, like fog hit with a fan, until I suddenly felt like I was reading a far more generic slasher-esque chase story than what had come before. I knocked off a star for that, where I'd have cheerfully given this five stars and beyond had the promise of the earlier sections been maintained through to the end.

There is a tie here to a . . . I wanted to say a horror classic, but I'm not sure the book in question qualifies as that. (Certainly not in the sense of being a 'shorthand' novel among horror fans, one of those books whose quotes, plot, and references any good horror reader would immediately recognize.) Rather, this is tied to a lesser-known book by the same author as a clear cosmic horror classic, so it'll be familiar to some readers but definitely not all. In any case, I myself hadn't read the book in question, and didn't even realize what was being tied into the plot while reading the book, and I certainly had no trouble following the plot.

If you're any kind of horror fan, definitely pick this up. Just be forewarned: the ending might disappoint you.

Review: The Nobody People by Bob Proehl

The Nobody People by Bob Proehl
My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Publication Date: September 3, 2019

This book is not about the X-Men, but you might be forgiven for forgetting that fact as you crack open this 400+ page . . . not doorstopper, because I don't think it quite qualified there, but it's definitely a book of great girth. (Whatever the proper term for that would be.) The Nobody People calls its superpowered humans Resonants instead of mutants, but there are so many parallels that it's impossible to really talk about this book without mentioning its clear inspiration. (Primarily, but not just the X-Men; the author clearly had a lot of fun peppering this book with a plethora of tiny SFF references, from Doctor Who to The Magicians to what I could swear was a dash of The Highlander. But those are easter eggs at best; the X-Men clearly lie at the bones of this story.)

The problem with that, though, is that I didn't feel the author really did anything new with its inspiration(s). It's not an interrogation of the X-Men, or an expansion of the ideas behind that series, though it definitely explores similar (in places, identical) themes of prejudice and power. It's a book that's about many of the same things, and I don't know that lampshading the similarities did anything to elevate this into something more original.

There were things I enjoyed here--there's an almost Stephen King-ish quality to the writing, not in the 'horror' sense but in the episodic attention to characterization--but I also felt the pacing dragged. This is a decently long book, and it often felt even longer, to the point where there were times I had to force myself to keep reading (and not to skim).

Overall, I'd say this is one of those books that I could see others enjoying a lot, but just wasn't entirely my cup of tea.

I received a free copy from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

Review: The Throne of the Five Winds by S.C. Emmett

The Throne of the Five Winds (Hostage of Empire #1) by S.C. Emmett
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Publication Date: October 15, 2019


If you're looking for bloody battles or magical duels or epic quests . . . look further, cause this is definitely not the book for you. There is no magic here, no quests (unless you consider 'trying to stay alive in a palace with more assassins per capita than there are bankers in Manhattan' to be a quest), and the only (physical) battles end well before our narrative begins. But if you, like me, find court intrigue absolutely riveting, then oh god do I have the book for you.

The newly-reconstituted Empire of Zhaon, the Land of the Five Winds, has just defeated its fierce neighbor Khir in battle. As part of the surrender terms, the Great Rider of Khir's only daughter has been dispatched to marry the Crown Prince of Zhaon, accompanied only by a single (quite fierce) lady-in-waiting. The two women must navigate a palace that's less a snake pit than a bloody, shark-filled ocean, as the Emperor's health worsens, his six sons (and their mothers) vie for power, and enemies beyond their borders begin to plot.

The writing here is absolutely superb. This is a very long book (the first of a series), with a decently large cast of characters, but at no point did I ever have trouble remembering who was who, who was allied with whom, etc. And the author is one of those truly gifted writers whose prose I can just fall into; her language has cadence, rhythm, depth---beauty to spare. Her scenes are exquisitely crafted, conversations with double meanings crafted so brilliantly I was literally in awe, each word honed to absolute perfection.

Fans of books like The Goblin Emperor, or political/court drama in general (or even regency romances---the romance factor here is clear and present, though never overdone) will find a lot to love here. (But with way more assassination attempts. Seriously, there is a ridiculous amount of assassination attempts in this book.) This is a book I'll probably be pulling out to comfort-read on rainy days for years to come, and I'm really excited for the sequel.

(As an aside, it's mentioned in the back extras that S.C. Emmett is a pseudonym for Lilith Saintcrow. Never in a million years would I have guessed that! I've read some of her other works--some I liked a lot, others that weren't my cup of tea--and this is definitely the most ambitious writing, worldbuilding-wise, I think I've seen from her yet.)

Overall: highly, highly recommended.

A big thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for providing a free copy in exchange for an honest review!

Review: Half Way Home by Hugh Howey

Half Way Home by Hugh Howey
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Publication Date: October 1, 2019


Half Way Home isn't a novella--I don't have the word count, but it's structured and plotted like a full-length novel, albeit very much on the shorter end of that scale--but it definitely feels like one. In scope, in character development, etc., this stands as a complete story, but could easily be appended as "Part 1" of a longer cycle, though Goodreads tells me that isn't the case. (Also, that this is being re-published, so unless there are plans to continue on later, this is definitely a stand-alone.)

The plot is relatively straightforward: to get around the distance issue, humanity has begun 'seeding' worlds with blastocysts instead of fully-grown colonists. An AI raises and teaches the humans (decanting them as full-grown adults), builds the colony for them, and . . . well, and it's programmed to incinerate everyone and everything if the chosen planet turns out not to be as hospitable to life as originally thought. Which happens--sort of--at the beginning of our story; a group of 15-year-olds end up decanted early while the rest of their proto-colony burns, for reasons the AI refuses to discuss. That mystery---where they are, what's gone wrong, etc.---drive the story to its conclusion.

Overall, I enjoyed this a lot. It's a fun little story, engagingly written. (A certain famously cheesy scifi series was clearly the inspiration here, and if you finish this without knowing exactly which one I'm talking about, then there's really no hope for you.) Will this enter the scifi canon as one of the greats? Definitely not. But if you're looking for an afternoon's entertainment, this is the perfect story to curl up with.

I received a free copy from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

Review: A Lush and Seething Hell by John Hornor Jacobs

A Lush and Seething Hell: Two Tales of Cosmic Horror by John Hornor Jacobs 
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Publication Date: October 8, 2019

Cosmic horror is by far my favorite subgenre, so I was really excited about A Lush And Seething Hell, a duology containing a novella ("The Sea Dreams It Is The Sky") and a short novel ("My Heart Struck Sorrow"), both dealing with the horrors within and the horrors without and the horrors teeming beneath. Overall, I'd say this is an excellent addition to any cosmic horror afficionado's bookshelf, though I definitely preferred the second work to the first, as I'll discuss below:

THE SEA DREAMS IT IS THE SKY: The first (and shorter) work in the duology has a lot to recommend it, but---unfortunately---also a lot to condemn. The central concept is refreshingly original: two refugees from Magera---a nonexistent Latin American country that ticks all the boxes Americans associate with that region, including suffering under a brutal American-backed dictatorship---encounter each other in a cafe in Spain. One is a famous poet, wanted by the regime and haunted by his experiences in his homeland . . . and by an otherworldly text whose translation contains, and brings, madness. The other, our narrator, is a young academic who gets caught up in the poet's, and her homeland's, many horrors.

I loved the ideas behind this. A Latin American country that never existed . . . or did it, now? If an eldritch horror overtook a country Down There and pulled it from existence, how many Americans would even notice the hole? Here, cosmic horror provides the perfect analogy for American influence on, but ignorance of, Latin America that I can possibly think of.

But . . . well, the main joy of cosmic horror lies in what isn't and can't be shown. That's why it's a genre that's always incredibly difficult to translate well to the screen. But that doesn't mean a writer can go for long, interminable stretches ignoring the whole 'cosmic horror' part of their cosmic horror tale. Far too often, "The Sea Dreams It Is The Sky" suffers from that worst malady: it's more concerned with its narrator's navel-gazing than with any eldritch horrors. "Turgid" is probably the word I'd use; not for all of it, of course, because the parts in past and present Magera, suffering from its otherworldly 'miasma', are quite fantastic. There just aren't enough of them. (I've never read Roberto Bolano, which the description tells me is an influence, so perhaps there are depths here that I missed. All I know is, I had to force myself to read through parts of this because my attention kept wandering.)

Overall, this is the sort of story whose plot I kind of want some other author to steal and re-work, because the ideas behind it are superb, it's just . . . the execution is somewhat lacking.

MY HEART STRUCK SORROW: Had this been a stand-alone, I'd have given it five stars without blinking. Heavier on plot and far, far creepier than its predecessor, "My Heart Struck Sorrow" stars a folklorist who, recently having lost his wife and son to tragedy, discovers the chilling records of a famous colleague's trek through the Depression-era South, in search of an eldritch song. Racism and madness, guilt and suffering, the past and present darknesses of America and their ties to our cultural products: each of these strings gets deftly plucked, but unlike in "The Sea Dreams It Is The Sky", the author here never wallows in his characters' sense of self. The story charges, bull-like, through to the teeming horrors just out of vision, virulently present but just out of reach, acknowledging horrors within and without and beneath but never prioritizing one above the rest.

One of my favorite aspects was the weaving of traditional Christian ideas about hell and horror (oh, those rotten apple trees!) with 'traditional' cosmic horror ideas about true horror existing beyond and beneath our conceptions. (You can see the shadow of The King in Yellow overlaying the plot, but only a whisper, only a dream; this is its own horror, and all the deeper for it.) I really liked the author's incorporation of real American music, the way the author ties the real to the profane. I'd never heard of "Stagger Lee" (which is and definitely is not the song in question) before, but YouTube tells me it's old and popular. It takes a deft touch to draw on popular music like this (I'm looking at you, Battlestar Galactica and All Along The Watchtower!) but the author manages to avoid any triteness here while still wrapping otherworldly horror beneath the skin of our more ordinary horrors.

Overall: if you enjoy cosmic horror, or any horror at all, I'd say definitely pick this duology up. There's a refreshing, intricate originality in both stories that's well worth your time.

I received a free copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.