The Winter People, Jennifer McMahon, 317 pages

Sara Harrison Shea grew up hearing Auntie’s tales of the sleepers, the risen undead, but after her father killed Auntie for a witch and burned her little cabin to the ground, she put them out of her mind. However, when her precious daughter Gertie falls into a well, she remembers what Auntie taught her, and prepares to do the unthinkable. A hundred years later, teenage Ruthie and her six-year-old sister Fawn live in the old Shea farmhouse, now an off-the-grid homestead. Their mother has gone missing, and in their search for her, they stumble across a copy of Sara’s diary. But others are looking for the secrets of the sleepers, and as their paths converge, the past will come back to haunt them.

This was a very spooky read! It’s been a while since I’ve read a horror novel, and The Winter People delivered. The rock formation The Devil’s Hand was creepily atmospheric, and I thought the ending was quite good. I didn’t notice this while reading, but almost all the major characters are women, which is neat. I’d definitely recommend this to someone who likes horror.

Princeless: Raven, the Pirate Princess vol III

Princeless: Raven, the Pirate Princess vol III, Jeremy Whitley, 128 pages

A member of Raven’s crew has been gravely injured in the struggle against her brothers, and the crew flees to find a healer. Crewmembers tell stories of romance to keep each other company, and Raven attempts to persuade the healer to help a pirate.

What a great series. Romance begins to develop, and more awesome women join the cast. I really liked the part where Raven stops beating up a guard to help her with an asthma attack. A worthy follow-up to the earlier books.

Princeless: Raven, the Pirate Princess vol II

Princeless: Raven, thePirate Princess vol II, Jeremy Whitley, 128 pages

Bent on justice, Raven finally has a crew for her ship, but now she needs a heading! They set sail for the Island of Free Women in hopes of finding where her evil brothers have hidden themselves, but there’s trouble brewing no one could expect. And worst of all, the crew has to deal with each other!

This is a great continuation of the first volume. There’s action, adventure, hints of romance, and plenty of nasty men getting gloriously beaten up. Definitely a solid read.

Tom's Midnight Garden

Tom’s Midnight Garden, Edith, 94 pages

In this graphic novel adaptation of the book by Philippa Pearce, Tom has been shipped off to his aunt and uncle’s house to hopefully avoid catching measles from his younger brother. At first, he is excruciatingly bored – he’s in quarantine, so he can’t go out, and the mysterious landlady allegedly dislikes children, so he must stay quiet. But at night, the old clock in the hall chimes thirteen, and Tom creeps downstairs and out the back door, to a beautiful garden that isn’t there in the daytime, and a girl named Hatty from long ago, his new friend.

A beautiful, atmospheric graphic novel about time and memory. There’s never any explanation given for how or why Tom travels back in time to the garden, and the book would suffer if there were. The art is gorgeous, lush and expressive. This is a must-read for anyone who likes graphic novels.

The Silver Witch

The Silver Witch, Paula Brackston, 308 pages

Tilda Fordwells has just moved to the Welsh lakeside cottage of her dreams, but her husband Mat isn’t there to share it with her – he recently died in a car accident. She lives there peacefully, running every day, rescuing a hound, dealing with her fritzy electricity, and creating ceramic art. But as an archaeological dig by the lake progresses, Tilda realizes she can do magic – and an evil force from a thousand years ago is beginning to stir.

I was disappointed by this book. The pacing was not great, and the flashback chapters (to the pre-medieval Celtic settlement in the location, where a witch deals with political intrigue) felt not fleshed out, like they were there merely to buttress the main plot. I never got a real sense of place from the book, which is surprising because the author is actually from the area it’s set in. I was hoping for something more like Susan Cooper’s The Dark Is Rising series, which is deeply rooted in British folklore, but The Silver Witch never quite reaches the peak it attains to.

Pacific Edge

Pacific Edge, Kim Stanley Robinson, 326 pages

The world has changed to a system focused on small-scale politics, renewable energy, and community-based living. In the small village of El Modena, carpenter and homebuilder Kevin Claiborne has just joined the city council, only to discover that the mayor is attempting to sneak through legislation that strengthens big business and risks exploiting the last undeveloped hilltop in town.

This is what I had been hoping for when I began reading the Three Californias triptych. Robinson envisions a world as close to utopia as possible, where humanity lives in harmony with nature instead of in opposition to it. My favorite part was where the town watches two tall ships come in to port, racing to be the first into the harbor, just like in the golden age of clipper ships (for in this future, the shipping industry has converted back to sail power, as indeed seems likely in our own), though I was frustrated by the lack of research put into other aspects of ship life (a specific quibble of mine, as I was a professional tall ship sailor for two years; this would probably not bother a layperson). There are parts of this trilogy that are very obviously written by a man – did Robinson need to spend as much time describing women’s bodies as he did? This stuck out to me most in Pacific Edge, because I really liked the rest of this book. If you’re interested in environmentalism and want to envision a hopeful future for the human race, this is a book for you.

The Gold Coast

The Gold Coast, Kim Stanley Robinson, 389 pages

Part two of the Three Californias triptych, this standalone novel takes place in a future California, just as The Wild Shore does, but this California is a high-tech, concrete, capitalist cityscape, where the Cold War is still going strong (the book was published in 1988 and it shows on occasion). Jim McPherson’s father is an engineer for the military industrial complex, struggling to complete weapons systems with impossible constraints and deadlines, and Jim longs for revolutionary action or anything to put some meaning in his life.

Having read all of the Three Californias, I can firmly say that this one is my least favorite. It’s depressing in its depiction of urbanization (deliberately so, presumably), and its attempt at hopefulness falls flat except as a precursor to Pacific Edge, part three of the triptych. Government bureaucracy and the forces of industry feel inescapable, and the most anyone succeeds in doing is hiking in the distant countryside. If you’re feeling trapped and let down by current events, this is not the book for you. Skip to Pacific Edge for a much more hopeful look at a possible future.

Vengeance Road

Vengeance Road, Erin Bowman, 327 pages

Kate Thompson’s father has been murdered by the notorious gang of outlaws the Rose Riders, and she is determined to get her revenge, no matter the cost. But she finds mentions of a lost cache of gold in her father’s diary, and her quest for vengeance risks becoming sidetracked by gold fever.

I’m not sure I liked this one. For a book with a protagonist as single-mindedly focused on vengeance as Kate is supposed to be, Vengeance Road meanders quite a bit and ends up feeling like a cautionary tale on the risks of greed. The action scenes felt flat, and although it seems Bowman tried to avoid tired, racist tropes when dealing with the Apache who live nearby, I’m not sure she succeeded, which is of course always a risk when writing a Western. The romance felt uninspired as well, until the end when it redeemed itself somewhat. I’ve heard good things about the standalone sequel, RetributionRails, but I’m not sure if I feel like giving it a try.

The Little White Horse

The Little White Horse, Elizabeth Goudge, 280 pages

Maria Merryweather and her governess, Miss Heliotrope, come to her distant cousin’s estate, Moonacre Valley, after her parents die, leaving her with nothing. She immediately finds herself at home in the beautiful countryside – the castle-like manor house with the tiny room just for her, the quaint village with a stream running through it, the magnificent hill with a ruined monastery on top, the odd dog-like creature Sir Benjamin keeps, and the mysterious little white horse glimpsed in the moonlight. But all is not well in Moonacre. The Men from the Dark Woods haunt the pine woods, reminders of an ancestral sin. Maria must make amends for the past and solve the mystery of the little white horse, lest she be forced to leave the valley forever.

I read The Little White Horse several times as a child, and it made more of an impact on me than I think I realized. It’s a truly charming story. Evil is defeated not through guile or strength of arms, but through kindness, love, and forgiveness. The valley itself is described in heartbreakingly beautiful terms, and it’s easy to see why Maria instantly falls in love with it, and how it makes her want to better herself and everything around her. Goudge’s sense of Christian spirituality is apparent and explicit, and could be distracting, but is handled with such tenderness that even a non-Christian reader will see the beauty in her philosophy. All that being said, the book’s gender roles are unfortunately a product of their time and it does suffer for that. But The Little White Horse is still a magnificent, charming, and beautifully kind story of amending past wrongs, healing generational trauma, and finding forgiveness within yourself.

Build a Classic Timber-Framed House

Build a ClassicTimber-Framed House, Jack Sobon, 202 pages

This is an in-depth manual for building a hall-and-parlor style timber framed house, including diagrams, plans, and instructions on sourcing and shaping timber, as well as planning for passive solar gain and siting your house. It’s very detailed, and at times was rather overwhelming (the descriptions of shaping joints were particularly confusing, leading me to wonder if it’s actually that complicated or just not well written). I appreciated the breadth of knowledge contained here – Sobon covers a huge variety of topics related to timber framing, including some structural engineering tables which are again quite over my head but interesting nonetheless. This book is the complete package for someone wanting to build their own house.

The Seafarer's Kiss

The Seafarer’s Kiss, Julia Ember, 214 pages

Ersel has long wanted to explore, to see what lies beyond the ice shelf in which she and her fellow mermaids live. However, her childhood best friend, who she’d planned to run away with, has joined the king’s guard and increasingly buys in to the patriarchal mores of their society. When Ersel finds Ragna, a shipwrecked human woman, she is again presented with a choice: to flee and start a new life, or to stand up against the king’s tyranny. Either way, she’ll need to deal with Loki, the god of mischief, and Loki’s deals can never be trusted.

I went into this book with high expectations, which were pretty much immediately dashed, but then by the end of the book I was enjoying myself again. So this has been kind of a roller coaster. The writing is clumsy at times – Ember seems to forget that mermaids live underwater and structures parts of their society inconsistently with that (for instance, their dining hall). And although I expected a retelling of The Little Mermaid, I did not expect the references to the Disney version, which took me out of the fiction and reminded me strongly of the TV show Once Upon a Time. That being said, I think the book gets better as it goes, and I really liked the ending.

The Mountain of Kept Memory, Rachel Neumeier, 448 pages

The king of Carastind has somehow offended the Kieba, the last living remnant of the dead gods’ power. When unrest in the neighboring kingdom leads to a threat of invasion, Prince Gulien must travel to the Kieba’s mountain in hopes of regaining her favor. Meanwhile, Princess Oressa, who has spent her life pretending to be meek and avoiding her father’s baleful eye while secretly learning everything she can of statecraft, must step out into the light and use her knowledge and skills to save the kingdom.

I’m of two minds about this novel. On the one hand, the worldbuilding is very cool – the gods’ death unleashed plagues across the land, as well as leaving powerful artifacts scattered around, ready for mortals to misuse. The Kieba averts the plagues and works to reclaim the artifacts – but is she doing so in the best interests of humanity? And the Kieba’s doorkeeper/secretary/AI, the kephalos, is very interesting. However, the racial and gender politics at play weren’t really critically engaged with: Tamarist, the enemy kingdom, is full of dark-skinned people with a brutal method of ensuring succession and a penchant for keeping women in literal golden cages; meanwhile, Carastind, a land of light-skinned people, has a very cookie-cutter patrilineal succession, and Princess Oressa has never left the palace in her life, a parallel which could be powerful if it felt deliberate. Additionally, the pacing is very odd. Each section feels like, “Oh, this is the real plot. Oh, THIS, is the real plot,” until the book ends. And to my eternal frustration, the cover was clearly designed by someone who hadn't read the book (and didn't understand that that arched window looks like an A).

As I wrote this review, my opinion has shifted. I don’t think I really liked this book. There are certainly much better paced and better thought out fantasy novels out there, and a reader should look for those instead.

Railhead

Railhead, Philip Reeve, 333 pages

Zen Starling is a petty thief, whose sister works overtime at the factory and whose mother sits in paranoid delusions. He’s no one important, spending his free time riding the K-Bahn, that quasi-mystical railroad between planets. But when Nova, a mysterious android in a red jacket, approaches him about stealing something from the Noon train, belonging to the ruling family of the Network, Zen is plunged into a heist bigger than anything he could have dreamed of, one that will shake the very foundations of the K-Bahn and the Network.

Philip Reeve wrote one of my favorite YA series (the Mortal Engines quartet), and I’d thought I’d read everything of his. Somehow I missed out on this gem. Zen is a very good protagonist, full of street smarts and with a remarkably insightful mind. Nova could be a stock figure (the android who wants to be human), but somehow she never comes off that way. The plot is full of twists and turns, and though the climax isn’t quite satisfying, the rest of Railhead makes up for it. Reeve excels at atmospheric descriptions, giving a feeling almost of magical realism to this imaginative science fiction world. Railhead is definitely worth a read.

Sound

Sound, Alexandra Duncan, 489 pages

Miyole has finally achieved her dream of taking to the stars, working as a research assistant on a deep space mission, and even if things aren’t perfect, how can she complain? But when her ship intervenes in a pirate attack on a rover ship, rescuing most of the beleaguered crew, her world is thrown upside down. A rover girl, Cassia, convinces Miyole to help her on a dangerous rescue mission. Will Miyole throw her lifelong dream away for this girl she’s only just met? What dangers await them in the vast emptiness of space?

This is a very good young adult sci-fi book. Miyole is dealing with some repressed trauma, which informs many of her major decisions. She felt real and complicated, although some of the supporting characters, Cassia in particular, were less fleshed out. That being said, Miyole is a solid enough protagonist that the book doesn’t suffer for it. This is the companion novel to Salvage, which I have not read, but I heard they could stand independently, and I never felt I was missing out on some crucial piece of information.

Princeless: Raven, the Pirate Princess vol I

Princeless: Raven, thePirate Princess vol I, Jeremy Whitley, 96 pages

This is a spinoff series from Princeless, in which Raven (the Pirate Princess) embarks upon a quest to revenge herself against her father and brothers for locking her in a tower and stealing her throne. But first, she needs a crew!

I liked this book quite a bit. Her crew is diverse and dynamic, with their own personalities and motives for joining. The art is good, though at first I found the coloring style a bit flat (I quickly got used to it and stopped feeling that way). I’m always nervous with these serially-published graphic novels that the art style will change suddenly, so I hope the next volume has the same artists.

The Wild Shore

The Wild Shore, Kim Stanley Robinson, 371 pages

Hank lives on what’s left of the coast of California, sixty-odd years after the devastating nuclear attack that nearly wiped the United States off the map. He spends his days fishing, helping around the village of Onofre, pulling pranks and joking around with his group of friends, and learning to read and write with Tom, an ancient old man who teaches him what life was like in the old time – the good and the bad. But when a group of San Diegans come to town on the old broken-down railway, Hank starts to think that they could help set up the United States again.

I enjoyed this book a lot. I’m a sucker for a good (non-cliched) post-apocalyptic novel, and this fits the bill. The Wild Shore doesn’t have any easy answers for the reader, there’s no obvious right path for Hank to take, but the moral grey areas don’t leave you feeling discouraged or bleak, but hopeful. This is also a wonderfully small-scale novel. I’ve talked a couple times about how much I enjoy sci-fi and fantasy novels (especially in the young adult genre, which this is not) that shy away from epic, world-changing story arcs and focus more on interpersonal relationships and solving problems in your small, local area. In The Wild Shore, the reader doesn’t know what’s happening in the outside world, or even more than fifty miles away, and that lack of knowledge isn’t stifling but freeing. It lets Robinson develop the Onofre Valley more deeply and richly, and utilize that tight focus necessitated by the communication difficulties in this post-apocalyptic land to tell a unique tale.

Delilah Dirk and the King's Shilling

Delilah Dirk and the King’s Shilling, Tony Cliff, 263 pages

Lovable rascal Delilah Dirk is back! When a chance encounter with British Army officer Colonel Merrick goes sideways, she and Selim are accused of spying for the French army. She must salvage her reputation by any means possible, so the two adventurers chase Colonel Merrick back to England and fall in with the only thing more fearsome than him: Delilah Dirk’s mother.

This is a splendid follow-up to Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant. Dirk is up to her usual mischief, leaving Selim to follow along and pick up the pieces as best he can. The previous novel focuses more on Selim’s character development, as he broke out of his shell and became an adventurer, using Dirk mostly as a catalyst. This one is more about Delilah Dirk herself, and although Selim is given somewhat shorter shrift, her selfishness and hot temper are not narratively excused, and it’s nice to see her grow and learn a valuable lesson. I just found out Tony Cliff just finished a third Delilah Dirk, and I’m really looking forward to it when it comes out.

Knife's Edge

Knife’s Edge, Hope Larson, 224 pages

Twins Alex and Cleo Dodge have found their father at last! After rescuing him from the dread pirate Worley, they recover on the Almira, and discover the compass and knife they were given as children are a map leading to buried treasure. Captain Tarboro and the Almira set sail, but secrets from their past are catching up with them.

I’m writing this review a couple weeks after I finished the book, so my opinions have muddied a bit. I don’t think I liked this as much as the previous volume, Compass South. There’s more moral grey areas and protagonists making bad decisions and saying hurtful things to each other, which can be fine in certain contexts but wasn’t really what I wanted going in. I loved the art, though. Rebecca Mock’s illustrations really shine when showing the broad tan decks and white sails of the Almira, with the blue sky behind, though part of that is probably my own biases showing as a sailor and ship-lover.

Delilah Dirk and the Turkish Lieutenant

Delilah Dirk and theTurkish Lieutenant, Tony Cliff, 167 pages

All Selim wants is peace and quiet and a good cup of tea (make that a great cup of tea). But when Delilah Dirk, a swashbuckling, outrageous, exuberant adventurer-slash-thief-slash-do-gooder, escapes from prison after he questioned her, he is a suspected accomplice and the two must flee together. Delilah Dirk takes him on a rip-roaring, rambunctious trip around the land (on her scientifically unfeasible winged sailboat), and he finds himself becoming more and more enamored of the life of a wandering adventurer.

This is a great graphic novel. Delilah Dirk and Selim make up a classic comedy duo, full of banter, and the faces they pull at each other are truly spectacular. Cliff’s art is stunning – the action scenes are dynamic and visually interesting, and the panels often open up into gorgeous tableaus. But more important than the swashbuckling action and the beautiful art is Selim’s character development over the course of the book, and the trust and friendship that grows between him and Dirk.

The Hate U Give

The Hate U Give, Angie Thomas, 444 pages

Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.

Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil's name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr.

But what Starr does--or does not--say could upend her community. It could also endanger her life.

Oof. This was a hard read – I spent a lot of the book on the edge of an anxiety attack. But it’s a critically important book, and stunningly written. Thomas puts the reader squarely into the head of a teenager and a community devastated by police brutality and racism. The Hate U Give grapples with all sorts of deep, complicated social issues with honesty, care, and grace, and Starr is a wonderful heroine, full of life and rich with emotion. The Hate U Give is written with detail that makes her, her family, and her neighborhood feel heartbreakingly real. It is a must-read. Content warnings for the obvious. If you’re prone to anxiety or might have a strong emotional reaction to the subject matter I would recommend reading this in small doses.