It’s #JurassicJune! Let’s Rewatch The Lost World Jurassic Park!

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It’s June again! Which means I’ll be taking a bit of a break from my sort of scattered and chaotic approach of posting about random books, movies or games on this blog, and try to niche down a bit and focus on media which includes dinosaurs in some way shape or form. Call it a #JurassicJune if you will (it’s what I’ve been calling it the last five years).

I kicked things off last Sunday with a review of Riley Black’s The Shortest History of the Dinosaurs for #DinosaurDay and while I like to try to open the month with something non-fictional, the rest of the month need not be such a serious, or even factual endeavor. Looking down the pike, I see we have a new Jurassic World movie set to release on July 2nd. For any who have been reading this blog since Jurassic World: Dominion‘s release back in 2022, you’ll remember that I was highly skeptical that the movie closed out or ended anything, despite that being its purported purpose. Looks like I was right! Though somehow it feels about as prescient as predicting it will indeed be a horse that wins the Kentucky Derby (I’m now imagining velociraptors racing in the Kentucky Derby and I’m unsure if they would actually try to run the race, or just eat the horses). It will be interesting to see how this new film connects to previous entries, if it does at all.

In any case, since Dominion I’ve been dolling out reviews of Jurassic Franchise books and movies as feels appropriate. I managed to line up posts for the 30th anniversary of the 1st Jurassic Park film back in June of 2023 and a post for the 29th anniversary of the Lost World Jurassic Park novel back in September of 2024.

The Lost World Jurassic Park film appears to be the last movie based on an actual book by Michael Crichton, and so I should be able to move pretty quickly through the rest of the films, of which there are conveniently enough to provide a post per film during the rest of June (ending with Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom since I already covered Dominion).

So, without further ado, let’s review The Lost World Jurassic Park (the film). Hold on to your butts!

I can’t say that The Lost World has had quite the same influence on me (or the culture at large) as the original JP film. There aren’t nearly as many quotable lines (somehow I’ve experienced few occasions to shout “don’t go in the tall grass!”), and the change in orientation from theme park to a kind of safari does seem to take a bit of the wonder out of things somehow.

However, that does not mean there aren’t ANY great lines, and that there’s NO sense of wonder. And it certainly doesn’t mean that I haven’t seen this movie about a thousand times . . . that I still don’t get immense pleasure from each new watch. That this movie isn’t still just awesome.

During this most recent rewatch, hunter Roland (played by Pete Postlethwaite) stood out to me as the unassuming star of the show. He’s introduced leading Ingen’s systematic capture of various dinosaurs on the island, bouncing up and down in a Jeep struggling to pronounce the dinosaur’s names, eventually resorting to just describing them and giving them nick names of his own like “Friar Tuck” for Pachycephalosaurus and “Elvis” for the Parasaurolophus. I don’t know how this never stood out to me before. It’s hysterical.

With Ian Malcom as the film’s main character, it probably should not be surprising that the film has quite a bit more humor in general than I remember in the first film (and certainly more humor than the book), and given Malcom’s experience from that first film, a great deal more cynical when it comes to dinosaurs.

If I’m remembering correctly, compared with other movies in the franchise, The Lost World is positively subtle in its call-backs to the original film. There is obviously the Tyrannosaurus Rex footprint with trembling water, to foreshadow that favorite beastie’s appearance on screen. Dieter’s comeuppance ala Compsognathus (compy) horde seems to call back to Denis Nedry’s death from the original, but isn’t actually all that similar a scene. And Roland and Ajay’s leap from the hunting blind as a flaming jeep falls towards them is only briefly reminiscent of Tim and Grant’s car/tree scene in the original. Oh and I guess I did love the part when the T. Rex is chasing Malcom and Harding and she asks him to slow down. A nice twist from the original when Malcom is almost eaten in the jeep (“must go faster”).

These call-backs, as well as Nick’s admiration of a wall painting depicting the old park, are interesting to me in the way they set up this kind of reverence of the original movie. Hammond becomes a kind of visionary — almost hero-like — despite it being his hubris and overreach which caused so much pain and suffering. It’s a nuance I haven’t considered in previous viewings, and I’m looking forward to how it progresses through the remaining films. Jurassic Park attempting to reconcile with its own legacy.

Crichton’s novel was much more present in my mind during this viewing as well (having just read it last September). I won’t spend a ton of time analyzing the changes from book to film, but will note that they were pretty sweeping.

The obvious changes are InGen’s giant hunting operation, as well as the entire San Diego portion of the film. I guess with these massive additions to the plot it was necessary to CUT some things from the novel like an entire character, Dr. Richard Levine, as well as one of the more bizarre dinosaur scenes from the book in which two Carnotaurus are so good at camouflage as to become effectively invisible (if this sounds hilarious, go watch Invisible Raptor hahah!). We have only to wait until Jurassic World to see this idea return with the Indominus Rex.

These changes feel so foundational to each adaptation that it’s hard to really judge whether they are better or worse, they’re just different. However, I do think the movie took steps in the right direction with Sarah Harding’s character, toning back the sort of “action girl” badassery — though she can clearly still handle herself — present in the book in favor of some more nuanced characterization. It’s Malcom who ends up looking somewhat toxically old-fashioned for thinking Sarah some damsel in distress, and riding in like a “white knight” to save her when she does want or need him there.

Of course this thread gets somewhat murky when everything goes to hell and both characters require saving from various carnivorous dinos, however the whole thing feels firmly less problematic than some of Crichton’s other writing.

So Give ‘The Lost World Jurassic Park‘ a Watch?

Absolutely. If for no other reason than to get warmed up for the new movie coming out July 2nd. But if a reason IS required, I’d say that even 28 years after its original release, The Lost World Jurassic Park still has plenty to unpack and enjoy, whether it be Roland’s understated humor when describing these incredible creatures, or the thrill of another run in with Velociraptor.

This movie still has plenty left to enjoy!

That’s all I have for this week! Have you seen this one before? What’s your favorite part? What’s your least favorite? And of course, always, what’s your favorite dinosaur? In the movie or just in general.

Happy #JurassicJune! See you next time!

#DinosaurDay 2025: The Shortest History of the Dinosaurs by Riley Black

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Now that I’m in my fifth year of reviewing some dinosaur non-fiction for #DinosaurDay, I’m honestly starting to run out of clever ways to introduce the holiday. It’s just a thing, ok?

For this year, I managed to get an ARC of a new entry in The Experiment Publishing‘s “The Shortest History” series titled The Shortest History of Dinosaurs: The 230-Million-Year Story of Their Time on Earth

(Ironically not in the running for shortest title of a Dinosaur History book lol)

The first thing I should probably answer about the book is whether or not it is literally the shortest history of dinosaurs. Unfortunately it is not. At 240 pages, two previous #DinosaurDay books are shorter with Kenneth Lacovara’s Why Dinosaurs Matter being just 192 pages, and Darren Naish’s Dinopedia: A Brief Compendium of Dinosaur Lore clocking in at 215 pages.

Oh well hahah.

The next thing this review should probably discuss is how this book reads, and if it is an enjoyable experience for any dinosaur enthusiasts. Thankfully, the answer to this next question, is yes, it’s good, and a great (and still pretty quick) starting place for budding dinosaur enthusiasts to get their foot in the door when learning about these incredible creatures.

Author Riley Black, describes the book in the Acknowledgements section as a sort of Dinosaurs 101 course, and to my limited knowledge (having never actually taken ANY courses on dinosaurs and just reading about them on my own), this book hits that target admirably well. Many of the dinosaur “basics” — such as the main clades and groups of dinosaurs, geologic time periods, the discovery of the Chicxulub crater and an appropriately tragic description of the K/T Extinction event which was the cause of the dinosaur’s demise — are weaved seamlessly into the various other sections of the book.

From past books I’ve read, it seems a lot of this information is accepted theory and not particularly new information in 2025 for any keeping even a loose track of things (like a post once a year on a blog lol), but for somebody coming across these topics for the first time, I would think that they are described well and are easy to grasp. I also feel that the sections on dinosaur pigment would be quite interesting to folks who are new to it, though of course the depth is not quite as much as a book like Remnants of Ancient Life.

What I enjoyed most about the book were the “new” (to me) topics which the (albeit limited) sources I’ve read previously either didn’t include, or I don’t remember them (obviously a very subjective thing). For me, those topics were: dinosaur eggs (that dinos laid a ton of them), parenting (or lack there of), and juvenile behavior (if parents were absent, they’d form small herds to try to stay alive and then break from the herd when they were older).

Also, the book briefly mentions some of the more prominent early female paleontologists such as Mary Anning, but also Elizabeth Philpot, and Mary Buckland who I have not seen mentioned before.

Where I wished the book would have spent some more time, was on discoveries (and dinosaurs) from other countries. Black’s book sticks primarily to North America, with a few exceptions for discoveries happening in China being the most memorable. Compare to Steve Brusatte’s The Rise and Fall of Dinosaurs which takes us to various places around the globe — such as Poland, Argentina, and Scotland — and the book feels a bit limited. However, Brusatte’s book is much, much longer, so I suppose it makes sense.

Finally, the book spends a good amount of time attempting to dismantle a few preconceived notions about dinosaurs . . . to varying success. Arguments that iconic battles scenes, promoted when dinosaur science was still burgeoning, between Triceratops and Tyrannosaurus Rex, or Ankylosaurus and T.Rex, are not supported by the fossil record, and that marks on the actual fossils suggest that Trikes and Ankies probably used their formidable armaments to fight each other not predators, is interesting and pretty well defended.

However, other arguments like Deinonychus NOT hunting in packs, and the multiple skeletons found around larger prey explained by the animals just independently finding the dead animal and scavenging it, do not feel as well defended within this text (although sources are provided at the end).

Finally, a recurring theme presented within this work is that dinosaurs did not “rule the earth” as commonly heard in dino media, but that they were just another part of a vast and complicated ecosystem which contained mammals, birds (avian dinosaurs) and crocodilian reptiles all at once. I have no arguments against this point, it just seemed strange that a book ABOUT dinosaurs would work so hard to convince us that dinosaurs aren’t all that special.

Give “The Shortest History of Dinosaurs” a Read?

Yup! Especially if you’re new to the subject, and want to get a quick and easy version of the sort of “current state” of things. I especially enjoyed learning about various dinosaur’s (lack of) parenting techniques, their nests and eggs, and how they behaved at various stages of their lives. I would have liked to see a bit more from other countries, but I can understand why the focus remained mostly on North America.

Overall I thought this addition to the Short History series was very quick and approachable, and you better believe I scoped out a few other titles in the series which I hope I get a chance to pick up (looking at you: Short History of Music).

That’s all I have for this time. As I always like to ask, which dinosaur is your favorite? Are there any interesting dinosaur facts which surprise you? Or are different from when you were a kid? What other “Short History of” subjects would you read? Which one should I review next?

Leave your thoughts in the comments. I look forward to talking about this one!

And happy #DinosaurDay! and watch for #JurassicJune posts coming up. There’s a new Jurassic Park coming out in July so I may try to just binge all the movies this month. Stay tuned!

Confronting Conformity: Timeless Lessons in A Wrinkle in Time

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It seems like lately there are a lot of themes I could be using to guide my posts — the passing #WyrdAndWonder, the upcoming #JurassicJune, and the recently announced Hugo finalists all come to mind — so naturally I end up posting about something which has next to nothing to do with any of those things: Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time.

I must admit, this is not the first time I’ve read this book although my last read through was not during the formative ages between 8 and 14 for which this book is purportedly written, but during the slightly less important age of 26. Yes, somehow I missed this book as kid, and found myself scrambling to “get with it” in advance of when the 2018 film adaptation finally came to theaters. It seemed this book had been a big influence on my friends, and I felt a bit of an odd ball for never having read it although it was well within my supposed favorite genre.

I can’t really know exactly what I thought of it back in 2017 (a scant year for blogging here on A&A), however I don’t think I was particularly impressed. And all I remembered about the experience approaching my read through now in 2025, is that I had been quite unsettled during Meg and the gang’s trip through suburbia on Camazotz (a scene which was equally unsettling today).

My read through this time was much more enjoyable and I think I have some inkling of why this book is so highly regarded by critics (it won the Newbery Medal in 1963), and such a treasured piece of so many people’s childhoods.

Despite just over 60 years of science fiction and fantasy to come following in Wrinkle‘s footsteps, I can hardly say I’ve read a story which displays such imagination and beauty in its prose and imagery. Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Who are unfathomable in their age, power, and intentions, and yet we can understand them. “IT” and the “dark” planets are hardly knowable, and yet we know that they are evil. The way these concepts are delt with and portrayed never feels patronizing or cliched, just genuine as if Meg (and L’Engle) are reaching beyond the limits of the routine, and struggling to translate what they find (not unlike Charles Walace in some scenes as well).

Of course there is some pretty heavy messaging present throughout this book, most of which seems firmly rooted in religion, and yet transcending it as well. There is a lot of references to God, and guardian angels, and yet the way they are written about walks a fine line between their more literal connotations, and just terms we use to grasp at concepts we cannot understand to describe a general battle of good vs. evil, light vs. dark.

I mentioned the suburban landscape which so affected me during my original read-through, and I bring it up again because I think it is a scene which leads to the book’s most important messaging regarding equality. There are several points in the novel in which Meg essentially fights the concept of conformity, and comes to the realization that “like” and “equal” are not the same thing, with “likeness” marking an absence of agency in the face of conformity.

This of course echoes much the rhetoric of the civil rights movement, and feels an especially important message today with the debates surrounding DEI etc.

Of course there were a few things I didn’t really enjoy about the book as well. Charles Wallace is just an unsettling character to me. A Wrinkle in Time is unapologetically complex in its themes and concepts (gulp and vocabulary), and much like Ender’s Game, is written specifically to challenge how we conceive of what is appropriate for younger readers (both of these books are often challenged/banned). Spoiler alert, they can handle much more then we give them credit for.

And yet Charles Wallace just seemed a little too unbelievable for me. That someone at five years old would speak and act the way he does just never quite landed, despite my knowing the deliberateness of the way he was written, and how it tied in with the larger thematic content of the book. It was just weird. I can rationalize it all I want, and I still find it weird.

Give ‘A Wrinkle In Time’ a Read

Yes! If you’re on the fence, I’d say just dive in. There is A LOT to consider within its pages and I think my review only touches on some of what there is to unpack and think upon. Though I didn’t really enjoy this one much when I originally read it back in 2017, I’m happy I gave it a second shot in 2025. I found it to be a fun and thought provoking read.

I even learned a new word: Swivet!

That’s all I have for you this time. What are your thoughts on this one? Have you read it before? As a kid, or as an adult? What themes and concepts stood out to you the most? Did you learn any new words? (haha)

Leave your thoughts in the comments! I look forward to discussing this one!

Until next time . . .

Great Audio Books Part 3: Between 4-5 Hours Long

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Since everything great comes in threes, here is the third and final (for now) installment of the “Great Audiobooks” series I’ve been running on the blog. If you missed Part 1: Between 3-4 Hours Long and Part 2: Around 4 Hours Long, the essential conceit here is that I often have a long drive which a novella’s worth of audiobook just seems to work perfectly. I’m always looking for new novellas to listen to, but have trouble finding lists on the internet that are THIS specific.

So here I am, writing the posts I want to read. Hopefully someone out there will find these useful. Enjoy!

A Psalm for the Wild-Built

4hrs 8min

By now, Becky Chambers is a household name, and while I’m unconvinced that anyone can stand up to the title of ‘the ultimate hope for Science Fiction’ (from WIRED), A Psalm for the Wild-Built certainly presents a strong case for why folks might say such a thing.

The novella grapples with meaning-of-life-sized questions while simultaneously making us laugh. Its setting is unique in that it is both apocalyptic and somewhat utopian, and the titular monk and robot characters are a delight to read. This is a book that gives a warning, but also tells us it will be alright. Definitely a unique experience all around.

The Mimicking of Known Successes

4hrs 27 min

Rereading my review of The Mimicking of Known Successes, I find that it isn’t really gushing with praise; however, I still felt it a good choice for this list in that it has some pretty excellent world building, and what I felt was important and positive Asperger’s / Autism representation.

For instance, I was awed about how the setting is ultimately Gaslamp — so somewhat Victorian — despite that it takes place in our future after we’ve abandoned earth to live on giant rings which orbit around Jupiter. Travel is reliant on trains, as cars are seen as anathema for being one of the primary reasons earth’s environment is now unlivable, but also for the very practical reasons of space and logistics. There were tons of little nuanced things like this in TMoKS and while I probably could have read a whole book just about those little details, I’m ultimately happy to have a story over top of it to lead me from one cool thing to the next.

The Past Is Red

5hrs 0 min

The Past Is Red is another book I wanted to include despite not receiving a wholly positive review from me. Undeniably, Valente’s prose are pure poetry, and the world building in this novella is absolutely incredible. Where I struggled was with the overall messaging and the the inclusion of certain literary techniques which I felt actually made the story weaker instead of stronger.

But I would probably give my left arm to be able to write with even an ounce of the creativity on display here, and if you enjoy accents, TPIR is a great one to listen to!

What Feasts At Night – Review

5hrs 2 min

I suppose I’m going slightly out of order posting the sequel first in the list, but it’s the shorter of the two currently out (I think a third is coming?). In any case, we’re firmly back in the realm of using ‘great’ to describe the next entries on this list. What Feasts at Night is excellent. In it Kingfisher abandons ‘Retellings’ as a form and (so far as I can tell) creates a sequel which feels mostly new.

Of course that doesn’t mean nothing is borrowed, Kingfisher uses quite a bit of lore and legends surrounding the Romanian myth of the Moroi. Needless to say, this hit all of the right buttons for me.

Also, while this novella is very much a gothic horror story, Kingfisher includes quite a bit of humor and wit in the vein of Terry Pratchett. This will be unsurprising for any who’ve read earlier works (in particular Jackalope Wives) by this author, but I found that even this element has grown and changed with time rather than become stagnant and overdone.

I don’t want to rewrite my whole review here — there’s tons of other reasons this novella is interesting and great — so I’ll just finish up by saying that, this one was definitely a hit for me!

What Moves The Dead

5hrs 25 min

Given we’ve already seen another retelling, in this ‘Great Audiobooks’ series in Part 1 with Kingfisher’s 2024 Hugo award winning Thornhedge, it should come as no surprise that T. Kingfisher is a master of the form. If anything, What Moves The Dead actually improves upon the original, capturing the elements of what made The Fall Of The House of Usher good, but expanding its scope and relevance.

However, all my favorite parts of this novella were those explored of their own volition, not in homage to the original work. Things like mythical Galacia and its expanded set of pronouns which contain a gender specifically for soldiers. Or how the doctor, and Roderic’s sister Madeline — even the house itself — are given a more prominent roles within the story.

If you’re in the mood for a creepy yet engaging retelling, run don’t walk towards What Moves the Dead.

Wrapping Up

Well, that’s all I have for this week, and potentially all I have for this series. When I originally set out writing these, this was scheduled to be the end because I hadn’t really read that many novellas, and fifteen seemed like a good number, if somewhat more work than I originally anticipated.

However, as I write these lines, I’ve discovered that the Libby App now allows you to set duration filters for audiobooks so when you’re searching for a book of the perfect length you can just filter out everything else. I’d like to think that they saw my post and created this feature just for me! But I’m sure it was something that many people had been struggling with, whether or not they were posting booklists about it on their blog hahah.

In such a world, maybe posts like these aren’t needed? Maybe they weren’t ever needed anyway and I was just writing them because I wanted to . . .

In any case, this is the end (so far) of the Great Audiobook series here on A&A. Let me know your thoughts about this list in the comments, or your thoughts on the entire series too? Are there any novella’s I should have included? Any I should just go listen to on my next drive?

Thanks and I’ll see you next time!

#WyrdAndWonder2025 Day 18 – Five Fantasy Favorites: Lost At Sea!

by in Book Reviews, Fantasy, Wyrd and Wonder and tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

It’s Sunday during #WyrdAndWonder2025, which means it’s time for another Five Fantasy Favorites post. I’ve only managed to complete the first one themed after Davy Jones back on May 4th, but I’m still a big fan of these in general, and have been enjoying the other posts with this theme that I’ve been seeing.

This will definitely be my last Five Fantasy Favorites post, and very likely be my last #WyrdAndWonder2025 post as May is always a super busy month for me, and I just don’t have as much time as I’d like to continue putting work into this event (despite it being awesome). Plus, #DinosaurDay and #JurassicJune are fast approaching, and I’d like to at least try to do some prep for those ‘events’ (I have events in quotes cause I think I’m the only one left who celebrates them lol).

In any case, enough housekeeping, let’s get to what we came for: Five Fantasy Favorites, this time with the theme: LOST AT SEA (aka Sea Voyages (intentional or accidental)). A lot of these are recent reads, reviewed this month (hell many were reviewed earlier this week) as apparently my trove of nautical themed book treasure was somewhat thin, but I managed the full five, and it was quite a bit of fun rounding out this list, so please enjoy!

The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

Simply put, The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi is a book that puts sea fairing adventure stories back on the map! Fans of Chakraborty’s Daevabad books will recognize a lot of the Islamic folktale and myth from those stories, but this book is a setting all its own, with subtle shifts and changes which only increase our sense of awe and wonder.

And of course, there is also quite a bit of sailing and swashbuckling.

Amina is not a typical adventure novel protagonist. She’s middle-aged (rather than pubescent), has a daughter and a bad knee. She’s already had her adventures, making her way in a world that is none to kind to women. Her story should be over, but it’s just beginning, breathing new life into a beloved genre without ever becoming derivative or cliched.

Highly recommend!

His Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik

Putting this book on here is perhaps a bit of stretch, but I’m doing it anyway. His Majesty’s Dragon may only spend two chapters at sea, but the entire book is steeped in a kind of maritime worldview, despite being mostly about aviation and dragons. How can this be?

Well HMD‘s main character, Laurence, starts as a naval captain (of the ship The Reliant) before he wins a dragon egg off an enemy vessel, and is subsequently chosen by the hatched dragon to be its rider. From there, we spend most of the story in water adjacent locations, but Laurence’s naval outlook never fades, and in many cases is the thing which allows him to succeed throughout the story.

I wasn’t totally thrilled with the kind of Regency Period prose in which the book is written, but I did love watching the bond between Temeraire (the dragon) and Laurence (his rider) grow as the story progressed. Also, I can’t say I’ve ever read dragons like these. Large as frigates with the ability to carry a captain and several riflemen crew, these beasts are absolutely massive, to the point where I’m not quite sure I actually comprehended their scale at all.

Looking forward the sequel.

Impossible Creatures by Katherine Rundell

Impossible Creatures was set up for an impossible task when The Washington Post claimed its author, Katherine Rundell, was “her generation’s J.R.R. Tolkien“. Despite being quite skeptical of such high praise, I found the book to be really enjoyable (despite a lot of critiques), shining in its essential premise: showcasing a metric ton of fantastical beasts and creatures from a wide pantheon of myths and legends from nearly every part of the world.

The two main characters, Christopher and Mal, undertake quite a voyage in their attempt to save magic (and therefore all the magical creatures) in The Archipelago, and their captain, a “Berserker” named Fiddens Nighthand, is perhaps one of the sillier ship captains I’ve read in a while. He ends up saying one of my favorite lines in the whole book:

“Sorry is for farting near the fruit bowl, girl!”

A sequel, The Poisoned King, is coming in September of 2025. But I don’t see how it can top that hahah.

Sixth of the Dusk by Brandon Sanderson

At its heart, Sixth of the Dusk is a person vs. nature story with a slightly different take on this infamous story mode: the person is trying to save nature . . . even as nature is actively trying to kill them. I felt this was an important variation on the theme, even if it’s only a shade different than other versions of this trope.

As usual, Brandon Sanderson‘s worldbuilding is thorough, immersive, and inspiring; this time influenced heavily by his fascination with Polynesian culture. We see this influence primarily in our main character, the quiet and reverent Dusk, after whom the story is named. Dusk is a trapper, and caretaker of Pantheon’s largest island, Patji, which he risks sailing to and from in order raise a small roost of Aviar, parrot-like birds which grant magic talents upon their owners.

I think Sanderson has a parrot in real life so it was fun to see this influence his fiction in some way, and for any ‘keeping up with the Cosmere‘, we’ll be seeing more of Dusk in the upcoming ‘secret project’ Isles of the Emberdark.

Seems like the perfect time for a reread!

Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson

I’ve never really considered Brandon Sanderson a particularly nautically focused author, but it seems he’s maritime enough to grace this list a second time. But as we’ve come to expect from Brandon Sanderson, Tress of the Emerald Sea isn’t your conventional sea fairing adventure . . . mostly because the book does not include a typical sea.

Indeed the characters in this book sail on giant oceans of colored spores which constantly rain down from some insane number of moons. These spores are turned into a kind of ocean by a process called fluidization, in which air moves the spores and causes them to behave like a liquid.

I struggled a bit with the narrator of this work (the infamous Hoid), but generally really enjoyed the story. I’d recommend starting here (not The Lost Metal) for understanding Aether magic, and for Cosmere junkies, there’s a lot here to unpack. However, just because this book is steeped in allusion to Sanderson’s larger narrative universe, does not mean that Tress is inaccessible to first-time fantasy readers. Indeed quite the opposite. I felt the story’s Pratchett-esque prose, and one particularly Hobbit-esque scene (it’s another book about boats that includes dragons) make Tress a great place to start for first-time genre readers.

Now Bring Me That Horizon

That’s pretty much it for my Sea-Fairing Favorites. And as this is likely the last post I’ll manage for #WyrdAnd Wonder2025 (don’t worry I’ll still be reading y’all’s posts when I can), I’ll just say a brief farewell. This is always one of my favorite blogging events of the year, and it simply could not be done without all the hard work of the other participants, and the dedication of our fearless captains: Ariana over at The Book Nook, Annemieke of A Dance With Books, Jorie Loves A Story, Lisa of Dear Geek Place and Imyril of There’s Always Room For One More.

Thank you so much for doing the event this year (and every year previously).

Now, in the infamous words of perhaps my favorite captain of all:

“Bring me that horizon . . . “

Clones, Creepers, and Conundrums: My Thoughts on Mickey7

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As I’ve mentioned before (in my review of Volume 1 of The Sandman comic omnibus) I’m the type of person who wants to read the book before watching the movie.

Special effects have gotten so good, and modern authors have become increasingly more cinematic in their writing (probably a whole other post right there), that these days it’s a bit of a crap shoot whether or not one adaptation will prove conclusively “better” than the other, but reading still seems to give my imagination the most to do, and so I generally still like to try and read things before I watch them.

And so when I saw the trailer for Mickey17, I thought it looked amazing, and I immediately requested the book. But as the release date kept getting moved around (it was changed four times!), and I kept winning and losing holds battles with other library patrons, and with its seemingly short run in theaters (I think it was only three weeks at the theater near me), I started to lose hope that I would ever actually even read it. Once it was out of theaters, I wondered if I should even bother.

But I’m really glad I stuck with it . . .

Mickey7 manages to be both funny and a bit macabre, with some small doses here and there of philosophy — I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say the Ship of Theseus is mentioned in the book — as well as a brief and accessible approach to physics.

A big draw for me in reading Science Fiction and Fantasy is worldbuilding, and imagining what our society could look like in the future, what it might have looked like in the past if a few things were different, or what completely bonkers nonsense we can come up with if we simply put our minds to it. Mickey7 does engage in these kinds of thought experiments, but through familiar means which serve to highlight the unfamiliar twists. For instance one of the seemingly major antagonists in the book is a kind of sentient swarm of bug-like creatures called ‘Creepers’, which Mickey (the main character) and other planetary colonists find on a Hoth-like ice planet.

Mickey’s interaction with the ‘Creepers’, and some of themes therein, seemed to owe a huge debt to the ‘Buggers’ from Ender’s Game; however, in an interview at SUNY Brockport, author Edward Ashton claims receipts (aka influences) such as Clifford D. Simak, Isaac Asimov, and the early work of George R.R. Martin.

However, I wouldn’t say Ashton’s main interest in writing is the world on which his story is set. Indeed Nilfheim is just the canvas on which he explores his true interests: the Teletransport Paradox.

I don’t think that verbiage is ever actually used in the book, but in that same SUNY interview I linked to above, Ashton talks about Star Trek and how the platforms they used to beam up and down to planets never sat right with him. I believe he uses the term “murder machines”.

The idea here is that a copy of your body is made at the location of where you’re trying to go, and your body which is in your current location gets dissolved. Are you still you on the other side? For Ashton it seems like the answer is irrevocably no, and so what happens when the body at the starting point doesn’t want to die, but the other body has already been made. Who gets to live?

Ashton does a great job of making the ensuing hijinks compelling and sometimes funny, but I’ll admit that I sometimes felt the main philosophical question trying to be answered often got swept aside or lost in the plot. Ideas like Ship of Theseus and Schrodinger’s Cat are brought up now and then, but ultimately Ashton’s main character, the titular Mickey7, isn’t really the type of guy to really consider it fully.

It wasn’t until I was writing this review that it occurred to me that the theory of Quantum Superposition represented by the well known Schrodinger’s Cat example could potentially serve as a foil to the Teletransport Paradox.

In that theory, one of the multiple states an object can be in is location, so by that thinking you could be both where you started, and where you’re going at the same time until you are observed, in which case you would finally be in one place or the other. Notably, I think this does not involve there being more than one of you, and also does not involve you dying.

Somehow THIS theory of teleportation feels more interesting to me, but I fully recognize it is way less plot-driving. Also, now I’m thinking of a story in which a Mickey-like character goes about investigating his past iterations trying to prove that he’s actually someone else completely even though he looks the same and has the same memories . . . I imagine it will involve quite a bit of gaslighting . . .

There’s a lot here I guess hahah.

So, Give Mickey7 a Read?

Absolutely! Even given my criticism above, Mickey7 is wildly entertaining. Ashton has a gift for making hard concepts easy to understand (and actually entertaining to read), and I really enjoyed the book’s sort of dark wit but ultimately hopeful ending.

And ultimately, I’m excited to check the next book Antimatter Blues, and reinvigorated to watch the film when it hits streaming (I think) sometime in May!

Well that’s all I have for this week! What are your thoughts? If you woke up and there was another version of you lying next to you in your bed, what would you do? Would you be able to push yourself into the ‘Corpse-hole’ (aka matter recycler)?

Let me know your thoughts? Looking forward to discussing more about this one!

#WyrdAndWonder2025 Day 15 – Current Read: His Majesty’s Dragon

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We have something of a #WyrdAndWonder bonus post today, as I hadn’t originally thought I’d be able to finish this book during the month of May. But it turns out that when you set your mind to something — and have four different county’s library cards in Libby — there is nothing you can’t accomplish!

I think I had originally hoped to write about this book for the Five Fantasy Favorites prompt involving memorable captains (Sea Dog Peg Leg?), but I could only think of like three, including Laurence (the MC of this book), and so we’re gonna use our free space for this one and theme this post as simply “Current Read“.

In any case, this kinda works out perfectly since His Majesty’s Dragon (Temeraire Book 1), is in all honesty, a bit light in its . . . nautical-ness. Really it is only the first two chapters of the book which physically take place at sea, with the rest taking place in a type of dragon training ground (which I guess is named after a lake), or at a military outpost along the British coast.

Now, as I mentioned above, Laurence is a British Navy Captain (aboard the ship The Reliant which he must abandon when he bonds with Temeraire), and so there is a certain naval lens through which he sees the world. Whether its his strict adherence to rank, manners, and discipline (he at one point re-packs a lover’s luggage because it isn’t neat enough), or his ability to quickly understand concepts and procedures of military aviation because of their likeness with maritime strategy, Laurence’s whole worldview is set by his occupation as a ship captain.

In terms of character writing, this is kinda perfect as it sets Laurence up as an outsider among the other dragon riders — so plenty of challenges to overcome during the novel — but also gives him the exact unique skillset he needs to succeed since Naomi Novik’s version of dragons are essentially just living, breathing, TALKING!!, flying frigates with perhaps as much as a dozen people crawling around the their hides mid-flight like little remora fish swimming next to a great white (ayy there’s another reference to the sea).

Seriously, these beasts are HUGE!

Like my brain actually could not accept that something so big could fly. Despite having read many books about dragons at this point, I feel like my default for how big a dragon is seems to default to Toothless from the 2010 animated movie How to Train Your Dragon. This was doubly so, as newly-hatched Temeraire even kinda acts like Toothless (yes, I am very excited for the new movie).

Side note: When it comes to who may have copied who, the release order goes: How to Train Your Dragon (children’s book) in 2003, His Majesty’s Dragon (book) in 2006, and How to Train Your Dragon (movie) in 2010 . . . Which is to say, there’s no telling.

But as we progress through the book — and Temeraire grows — it becomes impossible to ignore just how massive Novik’s dragons are. Whole teams of riflemen ride aboard them clipped in place with leather straps and metal carabiners. At one point, Laurence’s crew is running drills to kill time during a long flight and Laurence decides against having them pitch the sleeping tents meaning Temeraire is at least campground size . . . it boggles the mind.

Despite being almost literally unable to imagine it, this aspect of the book hardly diminished my enjoyment of the story for Novik introduces the true draw of the story early on which is — a veritable fantasy genre classic — the bond between dragon and rider. I really appreciated Novik’s take here as there is no magic involved, nor any story-mechanic which will kill the other if one dies (as in the more recent Empyrean series). No, Temeraire just recognizes Laurence as a person of worth and substance, and chooses him. Then as the story progresses, they take care of each other, and their relationship grows organically until they’re hardly separable. It was quite honestly the most touching thing I’ve read in a long while.

What did diminish my enjoyment of the story (only minimally), was the sort of Regency Era language through which the story was told. The blurb on the back cover of my copy claims the book is “. . . like Jane Austen playing Dungeons & Dragons . . . “, which is a remarkably effective way to describe the book.

Now this language is historically accurate — the book takes place during Napoleon’s reign which ended near the end of the Regency period — yet somehow just not very enjoyable (for me) to read. I can’t even say that it’s because I only like more modern language in fiction as one of the expressed reasons I enjoyed Godkiller was that its prose harkened back to an earlier time. I guess I’m just not a big fan of this period’s language.

Give His Majesty’s Dragon A Read?

Yes! Despite my quibbles with the prose style, I still enjoyed His Majesty’s Dragon quite a bit. My favorite parts were the character moments between Temeraire and Laurence, but it was also fun to have my mind blown by the size of these massive dragons.

I’m looking forward to picking up the next book, Throne of Jade, soon!

That’s all I have for this time. What are your thoughts? Are you a fan of the Regency period? Its prose style? What are the coolest dragons you’ve read about? Would you ride one of these massive beasts?

As usual, please leave your thoughts in the comments section. I’m looking forward to discussing this one!

And happy #WyrdAndWonder!

#WyrdAndWonder2025 Bite-Sized Islands: Sixth of the Dusk

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So uh, we’re already falling a bit behind on our #WyrdAndWonder goals but oh well. We’re doing our best.

In any case, Day 10’s theme was “Bite-Sized Islands”, and I found a second nautical story by Brandon Sanderson (the first being Tress of the Emerald Sea) which I’ll review in response to this prompt. That story is Sixth of the Dusk which is only 54 pages (bite-sized indeed), and features a kind of hunter who makes his living sailing the dangerous waters of the archipelago known as Pantheon, and caring for the biggest island Patji . . . which would like nothing more than to kill him dead.

I wish Sanderson would write more stories around this page count. It was really refreshing to pick this one up and finish after only a night or two of reading. The relative brevity of the tale did nothing to diminish its impact. It is still jammed packed with worldbuilding, with action and adventure. And I’d say its thematic elements were that much more clear, for not having as much real estate to develop on.

The version I read was included in (to my knowledge) Sanderson’s only anthology, the Arcanum Unbounded, which features little bits and curiosities from nearly every part of his overarching story universe, the Cosmere. However, this time through, I only read the short story itself, and none of the other stories within the anthology, so I can’t really speak to how it sits within that work, but I can talk about how it reads on its own (because that’s how I read it).

Sixth of the Dusk is from the beginning, focused on man’s battle with nature, opening with the unnerving depth, and unknowable horror of the sea. Its first line reads:

“Death hunted beneath the waves.”

Our main character, called Dusk, feels not only small, but afraid as the shadow of some giant leviathan passes underneath his boat. He’s spent his entire life training to sail these waters and hunt on Patji, he is smart and skilled, and has several protections in place, yet he never loses sight of the fact that he is nothing compared to the powers of nature.

I’ll admit, I haven’t read a ton of person-vs-nature type stories (really only William Faulkner’s The Bear comes to mind) but it isn’t hard to imagine a theme of these stories involving the inevitable march of technology and modernity combining into a kind of manifest destiny which seeks to tame the wild frontier. Sanderson’s take is somewhat different in that even though it still sets up that dichotomy of person vs wild, at least some of the people — particularly the main character — are trying to save said wild and halt the march of “Progress”. And nature still just keeps trying to get in their way.

It’s perhaps only a shade different than other stories with nature as a primary antagonist, but it is still an interesting shade nonetheless.

Of course Sanderson brings his customary zeal for worldbuilding to this story. He writes in the postscript, that he has a fascination with Polynesian culture (which also influences the Alcatraz books, and the Horneater culture in Stormlight). I don’t know much about that culture, so I’m not really able to point out examples of how it came into the story; however, I trust that it did.

What I can say, is that the worldbuilding which goes on in the story is impressive, immersive, and detailed, and I hope we get to see some more stories set in this part of the Cosmere soon. My last note on worldbuilding (which is a slight spoiler) for any tracking such things, is that I believe this is our first time seeing tech in the Cosmere that looks somewhat like our own. “Sailing the stars” is mentioned which seems to point to some kind of space travel. It’s definitely got my interest piqued.

Finally, the story features heavily some parrot-like birds. I think Sanderson has a parrot himself so it was fun to see that come into his fiction.

Give ‘Sixth of the Dusk‘ a read?

Yes! Definitely check this one out. Whether you’re interested in ‘keeping up with the Cosmere‘ or just looking for some short and entertaining to read, Sixth of the Dusk is a great a choice. I enjoyed the story for its variation on the Person vs. Wild theme, its Polynesian inspired worldbuilding and cool birds.

Also, literally as I was finishing up this review I thought to check and see how/if this short story was related to Sanderson’s upcoming Isles of the Emberdark since I thought I remembered the cover featuring a parrot. Turns out Emberdark is an expansion of Dusk’s story! So I guess my timing is perfect and we’ll be seeing more of Dusk and this part of the Cosmere after all!

Anyway, that’s all I have for this post. Have any read this one before? What were your thoughts? Did you have any favorite critters on Patji? How do you think this story will relate to Isles of the Emberdark? Prequel? Beginning chapters? Complete rewrite?

Leave your answers in the comments, and happy #WyrdAndWonder!

#WyrdAndWonder2025 Day 9 – A Fantastic Voyage: Tress of the Emerald Sea

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So far this May, I’ve been alternating between my regularly scheduled posts (see last week’s review of BRZRKR Bloodlines Volume 1), and #WyrdAndWonder themed topics as well. Today, the two are happily combined, as the book I was planning to review anyway — Brandon Sanderson’s Tress of the Emerald Sea — fits perfectly with the day’s prompt: Fantastic Voyages.

If you’re unsure what I mean by #WyrdAndWonder, I’ve given a brief explanation in my last themed post on Day 4 – Five Fantasy Favorites: Creatures from Nautical Myth and Folklore, but it’s essentially a month long celebration of the Fantastic, whether it be books, movies, art, or whatever else. And if you’re interested in participating, or just really want ALL the details, please see the Chart a Course for Wyrd And Wonder post over on Onemore.org.

In any case, it feels like I’m about a solid two years late to reading Tress, but I actually think that may have been helpful to my enjoyment of the book, rather than a hinderance. Last I had read anything by Brandon Sanderson, I had just finished up The Lost Metal and was, in a way, grieving the end of an era.

In that review, I mention how The Lost Metal kinda cracks open the Cosmere in a way we really haven’t seen yet, and one of the big ways it does so is the introduction of Aethers. Mostly, we’re still firmly in Allomancy country, but I believe the little bit of Aether magic we do see was meant to somehow prepare us for the world of Tress. I almost feel like Sanderson may have got it wrong, and I wished I would have read Tress first, as it would have made so much of Lost Metal make a bit more sense. However, from reading this book’s afterword and just generally following the press around The Secret Projects, I kinda get the impression Tress was kinda an accident, and so perhaps a little slack is warranted . . . also I just don’t know how you’d ever manage to reveal things in the correct order in a series as long as the Cosmere.

However it could have happened, or should have happened, Tress ended up being a really enjoyable read for me, though one that sort of grew on me (not unlike a verdant vine) slowly.

The first big pill to swallow is the setting, and this one goes down pretty easy. A sea of spores (green, crimson and midnight), fluidization, giant ship-breaking vines and crystals, some absurd number of moons . . . Sanderson really feels like he’s batting for the fences on this world and letting his imagination run wild. And the results are stunning. There were several points during the novel which I had to let myself pause and just really try to imagine what things must have looked like. I was in awe every time. And I felt like this visual quality really was enhanced by the leatherbound edition I was reading which is just stunning as well.

I’d say the next really noticeable thing we come up against is Tress’s narrator, the (by now) infamous Hoid. This aspect of the novel didn’t thrill me at first. I’m usually a big fan of witty narrators, but for some reason I didn’t take to Hoid immediately. Though Sanderson’s love of Terry Pratchett is well documented — he once wrote that Terry Pratchett’s Discworld Might be the Highest Form of Literature on the Planet — Tress was the first novel I’ve read from Sanderson where I felt Pratchett’s influence at the level of prose.

Note: I have a whole lot more to say about Pratchett’s influence on the Mistborn books, specifically Wax and Wayne, but that has become a bit of a project. I’ll update this post here if I ever write it up.

It’s felt mostly through Hoid being clever and saying things like:

“It might be said that he had a way with words. In that his words often got away.” pg 13.

To me, this actually is a funny and clever line; however, it’s quickly followed by another, and then another, and so on for pretty much the entirety of the book. And while individual jokes and quips may have been enjoyable, its pervasiveness throughout the story felt wholly unnecessary. Simply put, Tress’s story is interesting enough without all the ornamentation.

We’re only on page eight when one of the more awkward attempts at wit is made, in a description of the main character no less. Take the following lines:

“In short, Tress was a normal teenage girl. She knew this because the other girls often mentioned how they weren’t like ‘everyone else’, and after a while Tress figured that the group ‘everyone else’ must include only her. The other girls were obviously right, as they all knew how to be unique — they were so good at it, in fact, that they did it together”

I’ve written about Sanderson’s use — and attempts at recompense for using — the Not Like Other Girls trope on this blog before, most notably in my review of The Bands of Mourning (Deep or Dated). Now, I say this with the complete bias of a white man in his mid-thirties:

Leave. It. Alone.

Want to write a story about a humble unassuming girl who goes on a big grandiose adventure which flies in the face of genre convention in regards to gender norms? Great! Tell that story. Tress is the perfect opportunity. As the Nike slogan goes: Just Do It!

But calling attention to it through one of Hoid’s only moderately humorous asides only lessens its power.

Now astute readers might have noticed that I said Hoid’s narration didn’t thrill me at first, but eventually it did grow on me, and by the end I was happy I stuck it through. Ironically, it’s because Hoid (as narrator) also has a bit of an arc as the story progresses, growing more introspective as the story nears its end. This allows for some of the more interesting lines in the book, the first being:

“The ship fell quiet — but it wasn’t the quiet of a night of falling snow. It was the quiet of a hospital room after a loved one has died.” – pg 364

Now I’m not sure about the second sentence, but it’s the “. . . a night of falling snow.” that had my antennae twitching. I assume this is in reference to the event Sanderson writes about in his April 4th, 2023 blog post Outside.

I found this interesting because I’d always assumed that post had gone up as a response to the “hit piece” from WIRED magazine entitled Brandon Sanderson is Your God which posted on March 23, 2023. Now I’m sure that piece influenced Outside‘s final form (he makes references to misconceptions by journalists in the post), but given Tress‘s copyright date of January 2023, it seems Sanderson had been thinking more about the event for other reasons as well.

The next line that really stuck out to me comes when Tress is captured and about to be bargained away to the dragon Xisis (yup there be dragons here too). The line says:

“Could a day have too many moments? Yes, the hours and minutes had been the same today as every day, but each of the moments inside had been fat, like a wineskin filled to bursting. Tress felt as if she were going to leak it all out, vomit emotion all over the place — there wasn’t enough Tress to contain it.” – pg 368

This stood out to me as just being so prescient, both back while it was written during the pandemic, and also every day we’ve managed to endure post-pandemic. Big moods here.

Finally, I’ll bring up the dragon again, Xisis. I really enjoyed this scene as it felt — despite not being all that similar in the specifics — like something you might have found in The Hobbit. I think Tress has been, and will be, a lot of burgeoning readers’ first experience with Fantasy (and especially Cozy Fantasy), so the scene just felt right in that context, whether it was meant as an homage or not (I don’t really have any evidence to prove either way).

So Give ‘Tress of the Emerald Sea‘ a read?

Yes! Despite my annoyance with Hoid’s narration, Tress of the Emerald Sea is still a fantastic voyage (ayy now were back on theme), and generally a joy to read. As Cosmere books go, I would say it’s THEE starting point for Aether magic (despite seeing Aethers in other books), and has (probably) a lot of other implications for the interconnected story of the world hoppers (there are several in this book).

I especially recommend this one to first-time Fantasy readers because of the real sense of wonder to be held imagining the (colorful) world, and the sense of (high-seas) adventure taking place despite its non-traditional ocean. For long-time Fantasy readers, there’s a lot here you’ll recognize from other beloved Fantasies, and that is often its own reason to read!

That’s all I have for this time. What are your thoughts? Would you be able to stand an entire novel narrated by Stormlight’s Wit? What do you make of the book’s connection to Outside?
Which Cosmere books are your favorite?

Please leave your thoughts in the comments and thanks for reading (this was a long one). I look forward to talking about this one!

Happy #WyrdAndWonder!

#WyrdAndWonder2025 Day 4 – Five Fantasy Favorites: Creatures from Nautical Myth and Folklore

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May the Fourth be with You!

(Does anyone else feel the need to say “And with you.” after hearing that? Like we’re all just a bunch of Catholic Jedi? lol)

Now I understand that everyone is probably having their feeds blown up with posts about Star Wars right now, but . . .

So naturally, I’m posting a listicle of five awesome sea creatures from nautical myth and folklore that feature in some of my favorite books. Why am I doing this? Well because it’s #WyrdAndWonder again and today’s prompt is Five Fantasy Favorites. I chose the theme of DAVY JONES, because . . . well because that’s the one I could scramble together for the first Sunday.

If you’re not familiar with #WyrdAndWonder, it’s essentially a blogging / social media event, in which folks around the internet celebrate their love of the Fantasy genre by posting different themed content around the subject (during the month of May). Leading this extraordinary charge are a few amazing folks at various places and blogs. In 2025 we have: Ariana over at The Book Nook, Annemieke of A Dance With Books, Jorie from Jorie Loves A Story, Lisa of Dear Geek Place and Imyril of There’s Always Room For One More.

I’ve been an on-again / off-again participant over the years, sometimes posting a lot, but usually only posting a little (and last year not at all). Looking back, it appears I first climbed aboard in 2021, and did some posting in 2022 and 2023. Much like #Blaugust, the event has prompted me (pushed me) to get a little more creative, often resulting in some of my favorite posts here on A&A.

Anyway, enough history, let’s bring out the sea creatures! Here are 5 of my favorite creatures from nautical myth and folklore (and of course some lit that features them!).

Mermaids

It’s kinda hard to know where to even start when it comes to mermaids (or where to stop either), but I don’t think any list of nautical themed myths would be complete without them. I don’t have a clear memory for it, but I’m assuming my first exposure to these person-fish hybrids was watching The Little Mermaid as a kid. Because my mind doesn’t hold on to anything actually useful, and only collects silliness, I think the next most impressionistic mermaid in my head-canon is likely from Zoolander.

But in 2023, I read (listened to) The Deep, by Rivers Solomon. THIS is probably my new favorite “mermaid story”. The way in which this story has moved from medium to medium over the years — from electronic music, to hip-hop, to novella — with each new adaptation adding passion, significance and meaning, is absolutely incredible. And the story itself reads like a rare pearl, with an incredibly interesting under-water-world, and gripping arc for the main character, Yetu.

For me, The Deep really elevated these classic nautical creatures from interesting mythic curiosity, to a prescient cultural symbol.

Rusalka

Not wholly unrelated to mermaids, is the myth and legend of the Rusalka. These watery women seem to have originally been a benevolent spirit which brought water to the fields in Slavic myth, but over time their legends increasingly became associated with evil. Interestingly, their name seems to come into Church Slavonic (рѹсалиѩ) from Byzantine Greek (rousalia) which comes from the Latin “Rosalia”.

I was first exposed to the Rusalka — like so many other Slavic myths and creatures — playing The Witcher III on the PS4. My memory is of course failing, but I’m sure they must feature in the show somewhere too.

Interestingly, in the sole Witcher book I’ve managed to read so far, The Sword of Destiny (a review I wrote for #WyrdAndWonder back in 2022), the story titled A Little Sacrifice seems to reference The Little Mermaid, which I felt a pretty western fairy tale. Without going back to read the story, I’m not quite sure how influenced it was by Rusalka myth and legend.

In any case, I sorta became obsessed with tracking where and how these creatures appear in different cultural contexts, mostly Russian music, art, and literature. Eventually, I even wrote my own little story, Farewell to Rusalka, as something of a nod to these fascinating spirits.

Rusalye

I’m pretty positive that the term “Rusalye” is unique to Leigh Bardugo’s novel Siege and Storm, but the type of massive water-serpent the term is used to name, should feel very familiar. The term “Leviathan” also comes to mind. I’ve never yet done much research into where stories about creatures like this come from (it seems like every culture has one), but I’m sure it would make for some fascinating reading.

As it appears in Seige and Storm, I was fascinated and enthralled, and honestly perhaps a little cheated that the Rusalye did not have a larger role in the story. Maybe we’ll get to see another book featuring this incredible creature, or maybe some wholly different author will take up the mantle and write a Rusalye-like creature someday. Maybe that author should be me! hahahah.

Kraken

Moving away from Russian and Slavic inspired sea creatures, we come to perhaps one of the most famous sea creatures of them all: The Kraken.

Whether you’ve seen the original 1981 film Clash of the Titans, or the 2010 remake, or have just been alive in the last quarter century, somewhere along the line you’ve probably heard some reference to the god Zeus — angry with the king of Argos — ordering Poseidon to “Release the Kraken!”

What an epic moment.

And that is just one line from one movie. Krakens have appeared in all kinds of art, movies, music, and literature, and every time they’re just sublimely done. Beasts of all-consuming power and impossibility. Incredible in the most literal sense.

Two stories featuring Krakens — or Kraken-like monsters — which I’ve enjoyed (relatively) recently, are P. Djeli Clark’s How to Raise a Kraken in Your Bathtub, and Emily Jane’s Here Beside the Rising Tide. In Clark’s Hugo nominated short story, our approach is somewhat more whimsical than the epic moments I’ve referenced above. It does touch a variety of serious topics, like ambition, colonialism, racism and classism, but it is able to do so with humor, which seems to make it all a bit more palatable (and certainly more enjoyable).

Jane’s take is definitely more whimsical, casually dropping terms like Squidoodle, and Tentaggedon (the kraken-like monster). But it is also just a lot of fun. If you’re into unabashed weirdness and child-like wonder, definitely check out Here Beside the Rising Tide.

Marid

These fascinating demons come to us from Islamic mythology. In Shannon Chakraborty’s Daevabad books (aka City of Brass etc.) the Marid are a kind of water elemental, and any sort of water — whether it be oceans or rivers (although not one particular river) — seem to be their domain, traveling on the “Currents” which allow them effectively teleport anywhere they wish.

Interestingly, the Marid wikipedia page does not use the term water even once, referring to them only as a class of demon in the Islamic netherworld. Unfortunately I know very little about Islamic myth and folklore so I can’t say if there was a particular tale Chakraborty considered when constructing her own version of these mysterious and powerful beings, but it would certainly be something to research.

We also see Marid occasionally in P. Djeli Clark’s A Dead Djinn in Cairo stories. They’re a bit different than the Daevabad versions, but I think that only makes them more interesting.

In any case, however they appear, it hasn’t taken long for the Marid to shoot to the top of my list of favorite mythological creatures. They seem inextricably linked with djinn so I’m hoping that as I make my way through this list of stories about djinn, I’ll uncover even more appearances of these fascinating and mythic figures.

Wrapping Up

That’s all I have for you this time! Let me know what you thought of these five creatures from nautical myth and folklore. Were there any you wished I would have included on the list? What are some of your favorites?

And while I have a few posts already scheduled for May which are not #WyrdAndWonder themed, still circle back for any more I might manage to write. My plan is to publish some nautical themed book reviews and posts under the different themes on:

We’ll see how I do. Roll out your parchment map, and start marking X’s all over it. There’s all kinds of treasure left in store this May!

See you next time. Happy #WyrdAndWonder.