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Mini Reviews: Apocalyptic Fiction

I have been in a horrific review slump since June. Maybe longer than that. I’ve got a huge backlog of books that I haven’t written reviews for, and it’s holding me back. Every time I think I should just push forward and forget about the books I’ve read in the past, I feel like I’m holding myself back because I feel the responsibility to go back and review all those books. So, for the next few months, I’ll be posting a mini review round-up every Tuesday until I’m all caught up, and then I’ll hopefully be back in the swing of things! This week I’ll be reviewing five apocalypse books.

Dread Nation by Justina Ireland

Jane McKeene has been trained from childhood to hunt Shamblers, folks who have died and risen from the grave. But something is afoot in Baltimore, and even though all Jane wants to do is return to her mother’s home in Kentucky, she can’t help digging in to the mystery.

I’ll admit I didn’t have high hopes for this book. I’m not a big fan of zombies or YA or historical fiction, But I decided to give this a shot on audiobook and I actually did enjoy it! It was a little slow and not as much of a page-turner as you might expect from a zombie book, and it really felt like the first half and the second half were completely different from each other. At another time I might have been more annoyed by this, but in this case it didn’t bother me too much.

I think what I enjoyed with this book was the worldbuilding and characters. I think the late 1800’s is my sweet spot with historical fantasy, having read The Conductors earlier this year and enjoyed it as well (also, I do like 19th century fiction). I just love the technology that is around, because it’s not medieval but it’s not so advanced that it doesn’t feel historical. I really liked Jane as a character and her relationship with her friend Katherine, which developed over the course of the book and was a great payoff. Perhaps the clearest sign that I enjoyed this book, I was highly tempted to pick up the sequel right away, which I pretty much never do.

Brown Girl in the Ring by Nalo Hopkinson

The only people left in near-future Toronto are the poor. Money no longer has value for them; they have rediscovered bartering, farming, herbal medicine. Outside of the city, though, the rich play their own political games—and they’re about to turn to the inner city for their human organ needs.

Brown Girl in the Ring has been on my radar for a very long time, but I have to admit that I didn’t really know anything about it when I started it. I don’t even remember if I knew it was apocalyptic. I certainly had no idea that it was based on Caribbean folklore (thankfully I already had a general idea of some of the folklore, or I may have been more lost). It just happened to find its way onto my audiobook TBR and I picked it up to give it a go. Although the pacing was a little strange (it felt very 90’s), I did end up enjoying it. It was really interesting to me to see a near-future apocalypse, where the collapse of society is due to its inevitable decline rather than a big world-ending event. It felt so realistic which is where the true horror in this book comes from. Although this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, I did like it well enough and would be interested in reading more from Hopkinson.

Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler

Lauren Olamina lives with her family in a walled-in subdivision in the remnants of Los Angeles. The world outside their walls has devolved into general anarchy, where fire-loving drug addicts and gangs roam the streets. Money is scarce to come by, and few people have legitimate jobs; people have turned to growing their own food and utilizing the barter system to get by. As her father tries to keep their community together, Lauren deals with hyperempathy and records her thoughts about a new religion in her notebook.

Parable of the Sower was published before Brown Girl in the Ring, so my apologies to Octavia Butler for thinking the former resembles the latter when the opposite is true, but that’s the order I read them in. Really, though, they could practically take place in the same universe—the similarities are striking. It was happenstance that I read them so close together, since Parable of the Sower was one of my book club reads, but I’m really glad I did. It was really cool (and by cool I mean absolutely fucking terrifying) to see two authors come to the same conclusion about where we’re heading as a society!

This was a pretty slow-going book, and a pivotal event listed in most blurbs doesn’t actually happen until halfway through. Even though it’s a medium-sized book, it felt really long to me, and I’m not sure if I’d have finished it without a book club deadline to keep me going. However, I think it was really effective as apocalyptic horror because it really made me think about what I’d do if I were to find myself in the same situation. Could I feed myself? Keep myself and my family safe? I live in an apartment, so no. But I think that’s really the mark of great apocalyptic fiction, because it means that the setting was so realistic that you feel like it could happen.

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice

The power is out—again. At first, no one thinks anything is amiss. Then two young people manage to find their way back to their Anishinaabe community, speaking of chaos in the south, where society is collapsing following the loss of power. In the face of mounting catastrophe and unexpected visitors, Evan and his community turn to Anishinaabe tradition to survive.

This was such a wonderful little book and totally got me in the mood for winter. Rice’s love for his community and traditions really shines through this novel, and even when the plot seemed completely bleak that love kept me moving forward. Like The Parable of the Sower, this book really made me think about what I would do in an apocalypse, so it was really thought-provoking in that way. I also really loved the balance between suspense/horror and a more quiet, subdued feeling. The title and season of the book was perfectly portrayed through the writing style which made this so successful in my eyes.

I am bummed that it was so short—I blew through this audiobook in just two days, and that’s probably just because I started it toward the end of the work day on the first day. I am super excited for the sequel that is tentatively scheduled for 2022, and I’m so glad that the story isn’t over.

Hollow Kingdom by Kira Jane Buxton

S.T. is a domestic crow on a mission: to find a cure for his owner, Big Jim, whose eyeball has fallen out and seems to have succumbed to the disease affecting all of humanity. Along with Big Jim’s dog Dennis, S.T. will traverse Seattle and learn how to bridge the gap between animals and the human culture he loves so much.

This was a quick-witted and unique take on the zombie apocalypse. As a kid, I was a big fan of animal-centered fantasy like Redwall and Warriors, so this was right up my alley, and I was thrilled to discover the ecological bent to the story. I did struggle a bit with the pacing, since S.T. is fairly directionless for a large portion of the novel, and Buxton fell back on a technology-is-evil messaging that frustrated me. However, the character development was top notch and I had a great time with this book from beginning to end. Although I won’t pick it up right away, I am looking forward to the sequel, Feral Creatures.

Mini Reviews: New Releases (First Half of 2021)

The Project by Courtney Summers

Years after their parents die in a car crash, Lo Denham tries desperately to make contact with her sister Bea, who has disappeared into the folds of the cult known as the Unity Project. This YA mystery-thriller has met with some lukewarm reviews, and I think that’s primarily because it’s not particularly thrilling. I didn’t think it was a page turner with tons of cliffhangers that propelled me to the next chapter, but I did think it was one of the most accurate depictions of a cult that I’ve read.

Not all cults are Jonestowns or the Manson Family. Most people assume that they’d never end up in a cult, that only stupid people do and that they’re too smart to be caught up in it, and it’s simply not true. Cults are insidious, they are not straight out of your favorite thriller book, and they are extremely dangerous and ensnare people from all walks of life. So personally, I’m glad this book wasn’t a page turner! Although it did move a bit too slowly at times, I loved how accurate-to-life it was, so it’s absolutely a book I’d recommend, although I think people should curb their expectations a bit going in to it.

What Big Teeth by Rose Szabo

After an incident at her boarding school, Eleanor Zarrin returns to her family home in Maine, from which she was banished as a child. When she invites her maternal grandmother to the home to help get settled, the Zarrins’ lives are turned upside down, and Eleanor discovers just how monstrous her family can be.

This YA horror was one of my most anticipated reads of the year! I love werewolf books and the author is queer so I had very high hopes. However, I found that it floundered a bit with the plot and with the creature feature. It was very much a family drama and I found myself intrigued by certain plot points, but it ended up a little predictable and I didn’t feel like I got the catharsis at the end that I was looking for.

All that being said, I did enjoy it well enough and would recommend if you’re looking to try out a little YA horror, especially with a Gothic lean to it. This was Szabo’s debut and I’m looking forward to reading more of their work.

The Lost Village by Camilla Sten

Decades after the citizens of Silvertjärn disappeared and left only a crying baby and dead woman in their town, Alice Lindstedt—whose grandmother once lived there—returns to film a documentary about the disappearances, and hopes she’ll find out what happened to her ancestors.

This is another book I was so excited for! I studied abroad in Sweden and I just love it there, so I was thrilled to read some Swedish fiction. There were some aspects to this book I enjoyed—for one thing, it has a dual timeline that I actually did really enjoy, even though it’s not usually my thing. It also had some really good commentary on mental health and especially the stigma against people who struggle with it.

Unfortunately, that’s where my pros end and cons begin… to start with, I just could not get that suspension of disbelief with this book. I just thought it was so unrealistic. Also, even though I did enjoy the timelines, it always drives me crazy when the past and present aren’t evenly distributed, which they weren’t in this book. Finally, although this was pitched as a found footage-style book, it pretty much wasn’t and I think if it had been it would’ve made a much better book. The book ended up mostly being a disappointment for me.

Whisper Down the Lane by Clay McLeod Chapman

In the present day, a new teacher discovers a rabbit ritually murdered on the school grounds and notes in his classroom with a mysterious allusion to his past. In the 80’s, a young boy responds to his mother’s questioning without really knowing the consequences, leading to the rise of what is known as the Satanic Panic.

If you are looking for a fast-paced popcorn thriller with some 80’s nostalgia, this is the book for you. For me, though, it was a complete disappointment. It was predictable, and unrealistic, and shallow. I do think it would’ve been more enjoyable if I had read it in one sitting, but every time I put it down I struggled to feel the desire to pick it back up again. By the end of the book, I realized that I would’ve had a significantly better time if I had just picked up a nonfiction book about the Satanic Panic, rather than reading a fictionalized account that tried to use a dual timeline to generate edge-of-your-seat thrills.

The Witch King by H.E. Edgmon

Wyatt was thrown out of the Fae kingdom of Asalin when he used his witch powers to wreak devastation. Now, settled into the human world and post-transition, his ex-fiancé Emyr wants him to return to Asalin to help Emyr secure the Fae throne. I don’t read a lot of paranormal romance, but when I do, this is the kind I read (The Witch King‘s agent is Rena Rossner, who also represents Aiden Thomas’s Cemetery Boys, which I read and loved in 2020; the vibes are very similar).

I will admit that I listened to this on audiobook, and I’m not sure that I’d have liked it as much if I had eyeball-read it. It felt very juvenile and the writing quality wasn’t quite up-to-par, but on audio, none of that bothered me the way it would if I had eyeball-read it. However, it’s something to be aware of going in.

This is not a story about fluffy perfect people doing good things. It is a story about morally gray characters who fuck up, and whose relationships can be unhealthy or even toxic. It’s very coming-of-age—there’s a lot about Wyatt learning how not to be an asshole. And I really loved those aspects and ended up super invested in Wyatt and Emyr’s relationship. I ended up enjoying this book a ton and I can’t wait for the sequel, The Fae Keeper, to come out next year.

The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris

Nella is thrilled when another black girl starts working at Wagner Books—she’s been the only one in a white-dominated industry for way too long. Then Nella receives a note on her desk: LEAVE WAGNER. NOW. Could it be the other black girl? Or is there something more sinister going on?

This was another of my highly anticipated 2021 releases. It was compared to Stepford Wives a ton in the marketing campaign (as well as Get Out, but let’s be real, horror books by authors of color being compared to Jordan Peele are a dime a dozen and I don’t put much stock in it), which is a super accurate comp. I’d read Stepford Wives just a couple weeks before I picked this one up, so it was fresh in my mind when I read it, and I thought the comparison was very on-the-nose.

Unfortunately, I think where this book fails is its pacing. Harris simply fails to develop a tight, fast-paced narrative, and I think that’s really key for this kind of book. It moved extremely slowly (Nella doesn’t even receive the pivotal note until a third of the way through the book) and didn’t hold my attention. There was an interesting social commentary, but ultimately it just didn’t make for a very entertaining read.

And those are the mini-reviews for today! Check back next week for a round-up of apocalyptic fiction.

Review: TENDER IS THE FLESH by Agustina Bazterrica

In a dystopian world where all animals supposedly carry a virus that can kill people, the meat industry turns to factory farming humans for slaughter. Marcos is an employee for one of the most prestigious companies, but he struggles with his moral culpability, and his troubles multiply when his boss sends the best gift anyone could ask for: a female FGP, a human raised for consumption without any added hormones.

Release Date	August 4, 2020 (originally published in Spanish 2017)
Publisher	Scribner
Content Warnings	Cannibalism, sexual assault, infertility, loss of a child, animal cruelty, physical torture
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kobo \| Libro.fm

Tender is the Flesh by Agustina Bazterrica is, as you may imagine, a bleak, depressing, and gruesome book. There is gratuitous and senseless violence. Bazterrica crafts such a bloody dystopia that it would be difficult not to recoil from it. I have heard from many that they were so grossed out they had to give up on it, or that the mention of it even months later churns their stomach. But it’s difficult to tell whether all the violence is truly justified.

On it’s surface, one might supposed that this is a commentary about factory farming and the meat industry in general, or that this book is meant to be something of a vegan sermon. However, I’m not sure it quite falls into that category. Rather, it is about the way we treat other people, and about how hypocritical we are as a species. This messaging is presented in the book as a bag of bricks that falls onto your head every few pages—in one scene, factory workers are barbecuing a kid for its tender meat to celebrate the birth of an employee’s child. In another, the government emphatically declares that “slavery is barbaric” when someone enslaves people meant for meat. Bazterrica is not subtle. In fact, I’ve rarely seen a book more heavy-handed than this.

Another thing I struggled with was the complete ridiculousness of the premise. In the opening pages, Bazterrica sets the scene and implies that the virus could be a complete lie, which is the most plausible explanation since the virus is totally unbelievable, but she never really explores why the government might make up such a thing—and it seems like this is happening in every country throughout the world, so any way you slice it, the premise doesn’t really make sense. I think here there is a little lost between Argentina’s culture and American; this interview explains a little of how the meat-eating culture in Argentina is, and knowing a little more about socioeconomic differences between classes in Argentina makes some of the scenes between the meat factory workers and the Scavengers make more sense. You can see here a video (CW: animal cruelty, depictions of raw meat) that depicts a similar scene as in the book, which I found to be unbelievable but makes more sense in an Argentinian context.

Ultimately I think that Tender is the Flesh would have benefited from being told in a different way. Marcos, I think, is too horrible a person to relate to, and I think that lessens the horror for a reader, because we can’t see ourselves acting in the same way he does. The idea that we might go along with this same premise is difficult to imagine, but I think that’s essential to this kind of book. I think I would have really liked to see this world explored in a series of vignettes. There were many characters with different points of view presented, but we only ever saw them through Marcos’ eyes, and I think it would have been more effective to bounce around and see different viewpoints and opinions.

Tender is the Flesh is just missing something that would have taken it to the top. I do think I would have enjoyed it more had I read it straight through rather than over the course of a week, because I think sitting and thinking about this novel in between sessions—as well as discussing it in book club—really ruined it for me, and maybe I would have enjoyed it more had it been one nightmareish reading session.

Review: THE BURNING GIRLS by C.J. Tudor

Reverend Jack Brooks and daughter, Flo, move to a small English village after things at Jack’s old church go south. Jack soon finds out that the previous vicar committed suicide, and that the villagers of Chapel Croft have a slight obsession with a few girls burned at the stake hundreds of years prior. Jack starts to uncover a mystery about two girls who disappeared thirty years earlier, and Flo starts getting friendly with a local lad, who shows her the haunted house around town.

Release Date	February 9, 2021
Publisher	Ballantine Books
Content Warnings	Physical abuse, sexual assault, fire deaths
Did I receive an ARC?	No
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kobo \| Libro.fm

Right in the text, Tudor tells you what to expect from The Burning Girls—a cross between Midsomer Murders and Heathers with a little bit of Beetlejuice thrown in there*.* I found the pop culture references to be both heavy-handed and fairly unbelieveable, since it was surprising to me that Flo, a teenager in 2021, would limit herself to 80s and 90s pop culture without any modernity thrown in. Additionally, Tudor didn’t need those references to set the scene; they were pretty much unnecessary, and served only to connect with older audiences and alienate younger readers.

I did enjoy the mystery and it kept me invested until the end, but by the end I didn’t feel like I got the payoff I was looking for. As you can tell by the above synopsis, there was a lot going on in the book. There was Jack looking for answers about Merry and Joy, the girls who disappeared a few decades prior, as well as Flo’s storyline, the mystery of the burning girl martyrs, as well as a mysterious convict recently released from jail who was on Jack and Flo’s tail. By the end, I felt like Tudor dropped the ball on some of these storylines in favor of a twist ending that I didn’t find particularly enjoyable nor believable.

I have seen a few other reviews where readers state that in this book, Tudor definitively takes the step from thriller into horror, but I don’t think I agree. There was a supernatural element, but it wasn’t very prominent, and the rest of the book read like a regular procedural thriller. Maybe I feel that way because I read a lot of horror but not a lot of thrillers, but I really don’t think we strayed very far into the horror genre here. Fans of both genres will enjoy it, but I don’t want people going into the book with the wrong ideas.

Altogether I did enjoy this book even though the ending wasn’t my favorite. It’s a great page-turner and I’m definitely interested in reading more from C.J. Tudor.

Review: AN UNKINDNESS OF GHOSTS by Rivers Solomon

Aster lives on the lower decks of the Matilda, a gigantic spacecraft in search of habitable planets. Matilda itself, though, isn’t very habitable at all—not for the dark-skinned lower deckers, who live in a hell of antebellum-style chattel slavery. Aster flits around the ship with reckless abandon, performing medical procedures for fellow lower deckers, collaborating with “Heaven’s Hands Made Flesh,” the Surgeon General, and trying to piece together the mystery of what happened to her dead mother.

Release Date	October 3, 2017
Publisher	Akashic Books
Content Warnings	Racism, sexual assault, parent death, body horror, physical & psychological abuse, suicide, homophobia
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kobo \| Libro.fm

Aster lives on the lower decks of the Matilda, a gigantic spacecraft in search of habitable planets. Matilda itself, though, isn’t very habitable at all—not for the dark-skinned lower deckers, who live in a hell of antebellum-style chattel slavery. Aster flits around the ship with reckless abandon, performing medical procedures for fellow lower deckers, collaborating with “Heaven’s Hands Made Flesh,” the Surgeon General, and trying to piece together the mystery of what happened to her dead mother.

As you might expect from that synopsis, An Unkindness of Ghosts is bleak as hell. I read this for a local book club, and most people’s reactions at the meeting were, “That was depressing.” And it is, especially for folks who are more accustomed to reading general sci-fi and fantasy. These characters—slaves—are very damaged and traumatized. Some of them are deeply unlikable, but their actions and personalities make sense when you look at what they go through day in and day out. This is a very tough read that you should absolutely wait until you’re in the right headspace to read.

As dark as it is, I have no business loving it as much as I did.

But there was so much good stuff in here. I loved Aster, I loved her as a narrator and a person. I can absolutely see why she would rub people the wrong way but for me she spoke to me in a way that few characters ever do. This may be a tragedy, but it is her tragedy and she tells it with the most wonderful voice. I love her so much and she really made An Unkindness of Ghosts amazing for me.

This is Rivers Solomon’s debut novel, so there are, unsurprisingly, some issues with pacing, which I find relatively universal across debuts. More integral to one’s enjoyment of the book, there are some plot holes with the general premise: there is really no explanation of why Matilda is divided across race lines and mirrors antebellum slavery. For a few people in my book club, this really bugged them, but I think it’s something you have to set aside. I mean, if you really think about it, why did chattel slavery come to exist along class lines in the United States and other Western countries? It was always a manufactured discrimination. Just like in the real world, there is no genuine explanation for why the Matilda is divided the way it is—it’s just people at the top finding ways to hold power over others.

This is not a pretty book, nor a happy one. In fact, I’m surprised it’s not categorized as straight-up horror. But wow, is it fantastic. There are issues, of course, like there are in any book, but it’s a book that grabs you and doesn’t let you go, and I don’t think I’ll stop thinking about it anytime soon.

DUNE by Frank Herbert: Is this classic worth the read?

Release Year	1965
Genre	Science Fiction
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kobo \| Libro.fm

Frank Herbert’s Dune was first released in 1965 as a serial novel, to critical acclaim. In 2003 it was declared the best-selling science fiction novel of all time, and holds a place in many people’s hearts. Like many classics, it will always have a place in the science fiction canon, but is it worth the read for people who are not hard-core science fiction fans?

In reading the above paragraph, you’ve already got more knowledge about Dune than I did going into it. The key information, to me, is that it was serialized; there’s nothing wrong with a serialized novel—The Count of Monte Cristo is my favorite novel of all time—but it reads different and I wish I’d known about it from the beginning. In a way, it’s nice, because you don’t feel as bad about forgetting what happened at the beginning of the novel, but at the same time, it can be disorienting.

Dune‘s strength lies in Herbert’s worldbuilding. Arrakis is a fascinating planet, filled with fascinating people, but for modern audiences it falls short in fully developing much of the information. The importance of spice wasn’t as clear as I wish it would have been, and the politics, a huge gear in this machine, are woefully undeveloped until the very end.

As a modern reader, what really bugged me was the cartoonish villain. Let me tell you all of the ways the author proves he is evil: he kills people who no longer serve his purposes, he’s super fat, and is sexually attracted to young boys. Like, listen. Pedophilia is evil, and no good person will disagree with that. But relying on homophobic tropes to “prove” that your villain is an evil bastard is just cheap and lazy. It’s a product of its time, but this is a big factor that is going to turn off modern readers, especially since it comes up very close to the beginning of the book.

For its time, the gender disparity in Dune is not as bad as it could be; the main character’s mother, Jessica, is pretty cool and there are some interesting female characters that show up toward the end of the book as well. However, they don’t end up having a lot of agency in the plot, and are sidelined in favor of a teenage boy.

That teenage boy, for what it’s worth, ends up being a bit overpowered. Many readers nowadays chafe against chosen one tropes and ultrapowerful main characters, so Dune may not be a good fit for them. Paul inherits superpowers from both of his parents, and when he lands on Arrakis, he is blessed with enough knowledge and understanding of the planet to rival the planet’s natives. Apparently, a lot of inspiration for his character came from the Lawrence of Arabia biopic, and it definitely shows.

The nail in the coffin for Frank Herbert is the pacing, which is weird even for a serialized novel. Plenty of people will put this down out of boredom—I nearly did right before the third section, even though I was enjoying it well enough. The different parts feel very choppy and don’t flow well together, especially the second to the third. Plus, the ending just feels rushed.

Dune was groundbreaking in the sixties, there’s no denying it. And it could definitely be enjoyed by modern audiences, if they enjoy common sci-fi tropes and don’t mind a few (very) outdated tropes, this might be a fun read. More casual sci-fi readers, though, can probably give Dune a miss.

Review: THE WORM AND HIS KINGS by Hailey Piper

After a series of unfortunate events, Monique is sleeping on the streets of New York and searching for her missing girlfriend, Donna. When she trails a mysterious person who has been snatching homeless women off the streets, she uncovers a strange cult who are awaiting the arrival of the Worm—an interdimensional being who they believe has visited Earth in the past and changed the course of the future to favor humans.

Release Date	November 15, 2020
Publisher	Off Limits Press
Content Warnings	Transphobia, assault, gaslighting, dysphoria
Did I receive an ARC?	No
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kindle

Now, let’s just get this out there right off the bat: The Worm and His Kings is confusing. It’s weird. It’s baffling. I read this with the HOWLS Book Club, and there were a lot of people who were put off by the visual descriptions. They don’t make a ton of sense and if you are a person who needs to visualize while you read, this novella is probably not for you. I, however, form absolutely no mind pictures while reading because—well I don’t know why I don’t, I just never have. So when a chair was in a weird place and others didn’t understand how it ended up somewhere else for the character to fall on, I had no issues. I just want to put that out there so that if you pick up this book, you’re not caught off-guard.

What I absolutely loved about this book were the main characters, Monique and Donna. Very rarely do horror books make me care so much about characters, but Monique was so vulnerable and relatable and human. There were points where the plot and the pacing was lacking, but the characters really drove me to the end of this book, and I am not a character-driven reader. Honestly, my biggest complaint with this novella is that it wasn’t a full-length novel, so it didn’t have the opportunity to really expound on Monique and Donna’s relationship. I really think the reader misses out by not seeing what Donna was like before disappearing, and it would have been nice to get some of that in the beginning of the book.

Honestly, although The Worm and His Kings was far from perfect, this is what I want to see in emerging horror, especially cosmic and weird horror. It was beautifully inventive and unique, and not just another twist on Lovecraft. I can’t wait to read more from Hailey Piper and I’m really looking forward to seeing how she does with a full-length book, so I’m very excited for her upcoming novel Queen of Teeth, coming out later this year.

Review: THE FORTUNATE ONES by Ed Tarkington

Charlie is offered a scholarship to a prestigious private high school, where he befriends Arch Creigh and Arch’s adoptive family, the Haltoms. Charlie basks in his good fortune, ignorant of what the ultra-rich do behind the scenes. When he finds out that he has been an unwilling pawn in the one percent’s schemes, Charlie’s life will take yet another turn.

Release Date	January 5, 2021
Publisher	Algonquin Books
Content Warnings	Sexual assault, racism, homophobia, suicide
Did I receive an ARC?	No
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kobo \| Libro.fm

The Fortunate Ones is a well-written book that tugs at the heartstrings and elicits a response from the reader, so why do I feel so lukewarm about it? Frankly, I was quite bored by this book, and I think it is due to Ed Tarkington’s complete lack of subtlety. For a more sheltered, well-off individual the messaging may be relevant, but for most of us, it’ll be more of what we already know. Tarkington’s thesis can be summarized in this quote toward the end of Part One:

“It seems these days more and more people assume that because a man is wealthy, he should be trusted to lead, or to govern,” [Varnadoe] said. “They overlook the fact that wealth is often acquired without discipline or principle. Plato believed that wisdom led to virtue. But one needn’t be wise to become wealthy. One certainly needn’t be virtuous. Of course, all men are flawed, aren’t they, Charlie?”

Charlie even repeats this idea towards the end of the book, saying, “In my experience, people like us do more harm than good, despite our best intentions.” Charlie is painfully aware of his privileges and the double standards of the upper class, as well as how they end up damaging those less fortunate than themselves, but he does very little about it. He disapproves of his friends’ actions, but rather than taking a definitive stand he allows himself to be swept along with them. It’s mildly infuriating, but nothing changes from beginning to end, except that Charlie is perhaps more aware of it by the end.

For many readers, though, the idea that upper class folks aren’t always fussed about morals and don’t consider their privileges or how their actions affect others is, well, not new. Tarkington isn’t forging new ground here, but trodding a well-worn path known to many others. Very little in the book will take the reader by surprise.

So while Tarkington has crafted a perfectly good story, one that flows well and connects with readers, I can’t say that I particularly enjoyed this book, and I think it’ll end up being quite forgettable. Enjoyable enough in the moment, but not one I’ll be pushing friends to pick up.

Review: LAST NIGHT AT THE TELEGRAPH CLUB by Malinda Lo

It’s Lily’s last year of high school and she’s not quite sure where she fits in. Her best friend Shirley is doing her best to drag Lily in her wake, encouraging her to join the homecoming dance committee and help run Shirley’s campaign for Miss Chinatown. Lily, however, is more inclined toward math and science—and Kath, a girl in her advanced math class who wants to be a pilot. In this wonderful coming-of-age novel, Lily navigates emerging feelings about gender and sexuality all while dealing with what it means to be a child of Chinese immigrants in the 1950’s.

Release Date	January 19, 2021
Publisher	Dutton Books for Young Readers
Content Warnings	Anti-Asian racism, xenophobia, homophobia, dated language & slurs, depictions of war, deportation, graphic sex, familial rejection
Did I receive an ARC?	No
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kobo \| Libro.fm \| Goodreads

She knew that what she had read in Strange Season was not only scandalous, it was perverse. She should feel dirtied by reading it; she should feel guilty for being thrilled by it.
The problem was, she didn’t. She felt as if she had finally cracked the last part of a code she had been puzzling over for so long that she couldn’t remember when she had started deciphering it.
Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo, pg. 42

Last Night at the Telegraph Club is about a romance, but it is not a romance novel; which, since I am not a romance reader, was great for me, but may not be what someone else is looking for. This book was about Lily growing up and growing into her own skin, and figuring out her place in her relationships with her childhood friend, her new friend (maybe something more), and her family.

There were some aspects of this book that felt like they were left as loose threads and never tied up. In the beginning of the book, a fair amount is dedicated to the threat of Communist uprisings—or, more precisely, the threat to Chinese immigrants who are suspected of having Communist ties during McCarthyism. However, this plot point falls by the wayside as Lily finds more important things to occupy herself with. As a reader, this feels a little annoying, because we enjoy it when everything is tied up nicely and nothing is left hanging, but I found it to be reflective of life. Being gay is a huge part of Lily’s life, and it’s one that she has thus far kept locked away in a deep part of herself; in a way, letting early plot points fade away helps highlight Lily’s inner conflicts and priorities.

This book has layers and Malinda Lo has done an excellent job of making Lily’s story feel personal. It is a little predictable but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t pull at your heart strings. It’s not often that the written word can make me cry, but it happened here. The feelings on the page are so raw and I was really with Lily all the way through.

If you are a fan of LGBTQ+ stories, this is one to pick up. It is tough to read in some parts, especially if you are queer, but I really loved it and would highly recommend it.

Review: ONLY THE BROKEN REMAIN by Dan Coxon

Short stories are tough—for writers as well as readers. With only a little time to make an impact, many end up falling flat and forgettable. Thankfully for us readers, Dan Coxon knocks it out of the park with the short stories in Only The Broken Remain, his collection of dark and disturbing fiction featuring the downtrodden of the world.

Release Date	October 29,
Publisher	Black Shuck Books
Content Warnings	Gore, murder
Did I receive an ARC?	Yes
Links	Indiebound \| Bookshop \| Kindle \| Goodreads

Short stories are tough—for writers as well as readers. With only a little time to make an impact, many end up falling flat and forgettable. Thankfully for us readers, Dan Coxon knocks it out of the park with the short stories in Only The Broken Remain, his collection of dark and disturbing fiction featuring the downtrodden of the world.

Coxon has an extensive publishing history, and it’s easy to see why editors are snapping up his stories. They are unique and well-written, and not a little unsettling. Although the overarching theme of Only the Broken Remain is loose, no story feels out-of-place and each feels a little like a dream—or a nightmare.

There are several stand-outs amongst these fourteen stories, not least of which is the opener, “Stanislav in Foxtown.” In it, an immigrant works day in and day out at a local chicken joint, until he befriends some foxes that live in the area. Stan and his foxes grab your attention immediately, and the descriptions in this story are indicative of the amazing prose that permeates the entire collection.

Coxon’s skill as an editor—his anthology was nominated for a Shirley Jackson and British Fantasy Award—is apparent in the story order. Sometimes, especially in single-author collections, I find it hard to differentiate between one story and the next, but Coxon doesn’t hit that pitfall. From one story to the next, you encounter different narrative styles, different themes, and different vibes.

Not every story landed for me, though. Particularly towards the middle of the collection, I found that some stories didn’t commit to their premises, and the ending was a little too vague. A set-in-stone ending isn’t necessary for a short story, but in a couple, like “Far From Home,” the beginning of the story didn’t intrigue me and the ending also failed to make an impression. On the bright side, these stories were few and far between, and didn’t take away too much from my experience as a whole.

Without a doubt, I’d have to say that my favorite story was “No One’s Child,” a story about a young English girl who is sent to the country during the London air raids who finds a creature in her guardian’s cellar. The descriptions in this story, the setting, and the absolute brutality were absolutely phenomenal and this is a story that will stick with me for awhile.

If you are a fan of horror short stories, this is definitely a collection you should pick up. There is a story for everyone here, and Coxon will amaze and disturb you with Only the Broken Remain.