Review: Someone You Can Build a Nest In, by John Wiswell

Shesheshen is a shapeshifter, who happily resides as an amorphous lump at the bottom of a ruined manor. When her rest is interrupted by hunters intent on murdering her, she constructs a body from the remains of past meals: a metal chain for a backbone, borrowed bones for limbs, and a bear trap as an extra mouth.
However, the hunters chase Shesheshen out of her home and off a cliff. Badly hurt, she’s found and nursed back to health by Homily, a warm-hearted human, who has mistaken Shesheshen as a fellow human. Homily is kind and nurturing and would make an excellent co-parent: an ideal place to lay Shesheshen’s eggs so their young could devour Homily from the inside out. But as they grow close, she realizes humans don’t think about love that way.

"Hatred was the fear people let themselves enjoy."

John Wiswell's Someone You Can Build a Nest In is a cozy horror story about love, loving yourself, and overcoming abuse, from the perspective of the monster, a blob who can rearrange her insides and her outsides to her liking. Her voice is so clear, and funny, with her matter-of-fact observations about humans and what little she understands of them, but she's also a deep character, with what seems to be a moral compass and a clear understanding of what is right and wrong in the human world.

The narration swings wildly between mild gore and sweet musings, in a mix that makes for an incredibly interesting read. We follow Sheshesen's terrible first day after hibernation, and we see her stumble right into some horrifying human drama while rapidly falling in love with a woman who saved her, not knowing what she is. This book has some pointed things to say about what trauma does to a person, and what it means to fall in love with traits that are trauma responses, and how to be there for someone who grew up in an abusive household.

I didn't see the twist coming, but keener readers might have no problem identifying it. I do think that it takes away some of the strength of the story, because it's a neat explanation and doesn't allow for true accountability, but the strong ending makes up for it. I also might have missed the logistics of some things.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In is a wild tale from start to finish.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Tomb of Dragons, by Katherine Addison

Thara Celehar has lost his ability to speak with the dead. When that title of Witness for the Dead is gone, what defines him? While his title may be gone, his duties are not. Celehar contends with a municipal cemetery with fifty years of secrets, the damage of a revethavar he’s terrified to remember, and a group of miners who are more than willing to trade Celehar’s life for a chance at what they feel they’re owed.
Celehar does not have to face these impossible tasks alone. Joining him are his mentee Velhiro Tomasaran, still finding her footing with the investigative nature of their job; Iäna Pel-Thenhior, his beloved opera director friend and avid supporter; and the valiant guard captain Hanu Olgarezh. Amidst the backdrop of a murder and a brewing political uprising, Celehar must seek justice for those who cannot find it themselves under a tense political system. The repercussions of his quest are never as simple they seem, and Celehar’s own life and happiness hang in the balance.

"At least she would not be lonely from here until the end of time."

Katherine Addison's The Tomb of Dragons is a stunning return to the world of the Goblin Emperor, and the final (or maybe not?) book in the separate series following Thara Celehar, Witness for the Dead. Unlike the first two books, this one isn't a novella, and the added length allows for the story to breathe more while allowing the readers to stay with Thara a little while yet.

Everything that makes this series so compelling is still present: the mundane narration about the day-to-day happenings of a Witness investigation, like a cozy mystery that's not entirely focused on finding out culprits, but more on the characters; the utter goodness of the main character, and his struggles as he learns to lean on others, indeed, as he learns how much he means to people; the intricate forms of address with various degrees of familiarity, and the dense, rich language.

The main case, so to speak, the titular Tomb of Dragons, allows for some very poignant points about grief and solitude and the greed of corporations; it was a joy to witness the resolution, and to see so many old characters return. It allowed for a much deeper delve into the rich worldbuilding, too, showing new places and new species. This isn't a book about great and terrible threats to the world, but a quiet reflection on bureaucracy and government, and while not all problems are solved (there's still racism, and homophobia), you get the sense that things are well underway.

There is a beautiful representation of an intense platonic bond between two men, which seemed to be going in another direction entirely in the previous books, but still it progressed in a believable way. On the other hand, there's a bait and switch for the object of Thara's affections that doesn't seem to make as much sense, or be as much developed, but it's still sweet, in a way. Thara is still mourning the man he loved and lost years before, but he does seem to allow himself to find love again here.

The Tomb of Dragons is a quiet marvel.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Raven Tower, by Ann Leckie

For centuries, the kingdom of Iraden has been protected by the god known as the Raven. He watches over his territory from atop a tower in the powerful port of Vastai. His will is enacted through the Raven's Lease, a human ruler chosen by the god himself. His magic is sustained via the blood sacrifice that every Lease must offer. And under the Raven's watch, the city flourishes. But the power of the Raven is weakening. A usurper has claimed the throne. The kingdom borders are tested by invaders who long for the prosperity that Vastai boasts. And they have made their own alliances with other gods.
It is into this unrest that the warrior Eolo--aide to Mawat, the true Lease--arrives. And in seeking to help Mawat reclaim his city, Eolo discovers that the Raven's Tower holds a secret. Its foundations conceal a dark history that has been waiting to reveal itself...and to set in motion a chain of events that could destroy Iraden forever.

“Perhaps, long or short, it mattered how one spent that time.”

Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower is an excellent standalone Hamlet-inspired novel with a twist about manipulative and manipulated gods. It features fascinating mythology and magic system, and a beautiful usage of the second person narration. The narrator is a delight, going on with patience about the past and the present and the power of language and stories, and about finally caring for someone. The novel explores themes of imperialism, power, and personal identity, the latter especially through the eyes of the ostensible main character, a transgender man named Eolo, whose gender is not what the story is about, but rather his gender is an important part of his identity that informs his decision-making and emotions and his relationships with several other characters. This books is a gem that I, for one, certainly intend to reread, as I read it upon publication.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Mal, by Perla Zul

Once upon a time, Mal was a spinster who could weave magic into his thread. Hired by the royal family, he met the young prince and the two became inseparable. But when the two attempted to save the kingdom, Mal was the only one to pay the price. He wakes up from a hundred year sleep with a body made of thorns and roses, his prince having never returned for him. Now, when that same kingdom he saved doesn't invite him to celebrate the birth of the princess, Mal brings his own gift...

"In the same way you'd love a flower, love yourself with that same power."

Perla Zul's Mal is a delightful novella retelling of The Sleeping Beauty, with a twist: Mal himself was victim of a sleeping curse, and as such bestows the same gift to the baby princess descended from the king of the realm he tried to save. He'll need to learn to let go of regret and resentment, and to love himself. As the hundred years of the princess' curse go by, we witness him grow and find friendship and love.

The novella has a strong fairy tale feel; the time jumps and the leaps of logic, which are very hit-or-miss in more straighforward stories, here work because of the dream-like quality of the narration. It really reads like an old story, sweet and magical. This effect also comes from the writing decision to have almost all dialogue rhyme, which is absolutely delightful, but it might not be for everyone. I know I loved it so much that I was grinning everytime a character spoke.

The characters' development is mostly off-screen, but again, given the strong fairy-tale feel that the author is going for, this works. The cast is a delight, with seven fairies who take Mal under their wings, and the fantastic character of the princess, and the prince destined to wake her up. We know how the original story goes, but we might be surprised by the fresh take of this retelling and by the narrative, circular direction.

Mal is a delightful retelling.

✨ 4 stars