Beyond the Wax and Feathers: A Deep Dive into ‘Daedalus is Dead’

Time passes, but some stories never get old.

I’ve always — since like 6th grade — had a bit of a penchant for Greek Mythology. It’s an itch that seems to most frequently be scratched by videogames (God of War, Hades, Assassin’s Creed Odyssey or the OG: Age of Mythology), but one that occasionally will be satisfied by books and literature.

Back in 2023 I did a bit of a binge, finishing Fit For The Gods, Galatea, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief, but the Greek gods and the myths surrounding them are never really that far off in my mind.

It would seem the same holds true in the current literary zeitgeist. A simple search of ‘Greek Mythology retellings’ in Google returned a Goodreads list with some 292 titles. This March saw the release of a publication entitled The Brainrot Odyssey: A Terminally Online Translation in which:

“. . . all 24 books of Iakovos Polylas’ Modern Greek verse translation alongside a new English translation in ‘brainrot’ — the internet-native, meme-inflicted register of a generation that communicates through screens.”

Also, Madeline Miller is purported to have a new retelling in 2026 as well, this one focused on Persephone!

What a time to be alive!

If Miller’s Song of Achilles can be said to have opened the way for less conservative retellings of these beloved stories, then Circe (and to a lesser extent Galatea) really kicked open the door for feminist retellings and in the years since we’ve seen a surge in retellings focused on heroines and women pushed to the margins by previous iterations of the myths (love this!).

Perhaps this is just me, but any book or media about Greek Mythology not following this trend seemed a bit retaliatory, and most often garnered a heavy sense of skepticism, if not full on ickiness.

And then along comes Daedalus is Dead, marketed as:

“A delirious and gripping story of fatherhood and masculinity, told through the reimagined Greek myth of Daedalus, Icarus, King Minos, Ariadne, and the Minotaur.”

I mentioned in my End of Year Book Tag (2025) that the myth of Icarus and Daedalus is one of my favorites, after reading this novella I should amend that to say: the myth of Icarus flying too high and falling to his death is a parable which resonates with me . . . I don’t really know shit about Daedalus.

Edith Hamilton’s Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes — kinda my source book when it comes to Greek myths — only has about four paragraphs dedicated to Daedalus and his son Icarus, while a full eleven pages are dedicated to Theseus, the Minotaur, Ariadne and king Minos (which I will have to read again now!).

It makes an obvious kind of sense that Daedalus’ story would center around fatherhood, and that a critique of masculinity would present itself through the father’s character and the choices he makes in relationship to his son.

Side note: though I haven’t had a chance to review all the games yet on this blog, this is one of the central elements of the God of War series. To over simplify it: rebellion against a bad father in the Greek Saga, and then the journey to becoming a “good” father in the Norse games.

In Daedalus is Dead, our legendary inventor’s main tasks are kind of split. When Daedalus is alive, he wants to protect and provide for his son, escape Minos, and make a better life himself and his family. In the afterlife, he simply wants to reunite with his son and kind of get the boy’s approval (though what he must do in pursuit of that goal is far from simple).

Icarus’ approval is so crucial for Daedalus, because as the reader learns more about the man, it becomes apparent that Daedalus isn’t a wholly good dude. The sort of idealized identity that Daedalus relates to the reader in the beginning of the story is in many ways misremembered or embellished to benefit Daedalus.

Daedalus presents himself as a maker, someone who builds things, who creates and therefore is the opposite of the masculinity defined by someone like Minos, who only conquers, takes, and destroys.

But what does Daedalus build?

Toys for baby Icarus, beautiful palaces and temples, but also warships and a prison-maze to trap and isolate young Asterion who is terrifying and deadly, but also — as Ariadne points out to Daedalus — only a child.

There’s so much to unpack within these pages, and I don’t want to spoil too much of the story, but I wanted to bring up one more thing which I feel is important to this conception of Daedalus, and to its accounting of masculinity.

That is the river Lethe, which in Greek mythology is one of five rivers found in the underworld of Hades. Drinking from the river causes complete forgetfulness. In Daedalus is Dead, who drinks from this river and for what reasons (again no spoilers) is quite notable, and interesting (at least to me) thematically. There seems to be an element to masculinity, and the masculine conception of the self, that is picking and choosing what to remember. I’m not sure I’ve fully figured out what Daedalus is Dead is trying to convey through this inclusion, but I’m also completely fine with it being somewhat messy or open-ended.

Perhaps my only criticism of the novella, is that there were no noticeably queer characters. For a story that seems to showcase so many forms of masculinity with its different characters, I would have liked to see some queer characters in the conversation as well.

Give Daedalus is Dead a Read?

Yup! Daedalus is Dead has completely redefined the myth of Daedalus for me, adding swaths of nuance and intricacy to a character which before now had seemed somewhat secondary. Though small in page count, this story looms large in implication, and has a lot to say about the roles men play in society.

That’s all I have for this week!

Has anyone read this novella yet? What’s your favorite greek myth? Who is your favorite hero or heroine? Favorite god or goddess? As always, leave your thoughts and insights in the comments! Looking forward to talking about this one!

Until next time!

Wait, Are Hadrosaurs Carnivores? A Mostly Loving Review of Boy, With Accidental Dinosaur

It occurs to me as I write this review, that Ian McDonald is something of a big name in Science Fiction. A Hugo Award winner (The Djinn’s Wife in 2007), and Grand Master of Science Fiction (according to the European Science Fiction Society). Looking at his catalog, Luna stands out as a book I wanted to read back when it came out (wow in 2015) but apparently never got around to. River of Gods has my attention simply because it’s an epic title.

I think I had a sense that there was some weight associated with this author’s name when I came across an ad for Boy, With Accidental Dinosaur, but I was really uncertain what it might be. I was mostly thinking — probably as the marketing department hoped — Dinosaur!! There’s a dinosaur on the cover!

And then I hit the buy button.

As Dinosaur books go, this one is pretty good. It’s setting is fairly unique, taking place in a sort of gritty future where the U.S. has regressed into a kind of feudalism in which whoever has the most guns gets to decide the law of the land. There’s weird techno-clowns, and bikes genetically coded to their riders which will poison anyone else who touches them. Tarot decks predict your future based on the texture you feel when you touch them, and everyone seems to speak about as much Spanish as English.

Oh, and of course, seemingly the only shining light in this grim future: the dinosaur rodeo.

It’s a bit bananas when you stop to think about it, but it also kinda just works, and mostly you’re having too much fun marveling at all the strangeness (and dinosaurs!) to really question what’s going on.

I attribute this to McDonald’s writing style. His prose are sparse, leaving a lot unsaid, but still managing to get the point across. Something I’m always curious about whenever reading books where unusual (fantastic?) creatures play a large roll in the story, is how will the author mix in their descriptions. Mostly McDonald doesn’t, often just giving the name of the dinosaur, and assuming the reader knows it or will look it up. Tyrannosaurus Rex, Stegosaurus, and Triceratops are easy ones; Anchiornis and Carnotaurus maybe not as much. Timursaur, might be made up?

McDonald’s opening description of the Carnotaur really stuck out to me, and is perhaps a good example of his writing style in this book:

“The dinosaur is a Carnotaurus sastrei. Imagine a classic T. rex. King of the killers. Draw it badly: a heavy, dumb-looking head. Ludicrous wiggling arms, like maggots. Too-long legs, a whippy tail. You’ve drawn a Carnotaur.” – pg 1.

It’s worth noting the use of the Carnotaur’s scientific name. BwAD seems pretty well researched and hip to our modern understanding of dinosaurs in 2026. Velociraptors don’t feature heavily in the story, but when mentioned, they’re described as chicken sized, and are raced at the start of the rodeo as a warm-up event. Feathers are mentioned.

I wasn’t really fact checking as I read, but everything felt pretty accurate which I loved. The only kind of weird thing is the following paragraph from somewhere in the middle of the book:

“A heavy chunk of concrete, flung hard, flung accurately, strikes Prince’s haddy on its left foot. It rears and bucks. The riot boys roar and hoot — a hit, a hit! — but they don’t see that the haddy is spooked and if it throws Prince, if it breaks, it will come for them. And it has two hundred stiletto teeth. And it likes soft, well-fatted meat.” – pg 57

To my knowledge, Hadrosaurs are primarily herbivores. The five minutes of digging I spent on this revealed that they may have been opportunistic, and snacked on crustaceans during mating season (to get more protein for egg-shell development), however, this seems pretty far off from the behavior threatened in this passage.

I’m so curious what inspired this part of the scene. Is there some in-world explanation? Or is it a mistake?

In any case, Boy, With Accidental Dinosaur seems to get most everything else right (that I noticed), and the storyline and strange setting more than make up for any artistic license used by the author.

It occurs to me upon review, that the rodeo is really the only context of the setting which seems to integrate dinosaurs, despite there being a seemingly thriving industry surrounding even just this one use. Personally, I hope we’ll see a sequel, or perhaps a larger work in which dinosaurs play an even larger role in the every day life of this strange timeline.

Give Boy, With Accidental Dinosaur a Read?

I’d say yes! Even among “dinosaur books” — which are already fairly unique settings — this book stands out with a premise that seems to stretch our conception of the kinds of stories we can tell about these incredible creatures. Personally, I really enjoyed the author’s talent for description, and the imagination used in building up this world, which is quite dystopian, but also fairly familiar and prescient (and probably more than a bit cautionary).

That’s all I have for this week. Has anyone read this story yet? What did you think? What were your favorite dinos? Were there any you learned about for the first time? Would you watch a dinosaur rodeo?

Leave your thoughts and feelings in the comment section! Looking forward to discussing this one!

Until next time!

All Systems Red: Still The Most Relatable Cyborg in Science Fiction

I’ve got a bit of a bet going with myself. Reread the Murderbot books and I’ll have earned out the $12.99 a month I’d give to Apple to watch the show (I might also try to finish the Silo books as well just to really be an overachiever). But a quick Google shows me this is a bit of a dumb bet, as apparently the show only covers the first book?

How?

In any case, I’ve taken another — according to goodreads, my third — look at All Systems Red and am finally sitting down to write a review for it.

I reviewed Network Effect back in 2021 in the lead up to the announcement of the winner in August of 2021. And apparently missed the mark completely. Network Effect DID win the award, beating out Black Sun, Harrow The Ninth, and The City We Became (I still haven’t read The Relentless Moon or Piranesi).

In that post, I mentioned that Murderbot was probably one of my favorite characters in fiction because of how relatable the character felt. I said then:

“It doesn’t want to fail its contract because this will make it harder for it to sit around in its repair cube (or really anywhere) and watch its favorite TV show . . . Who here has not undertaken extreme measures in the pursuit of laziness?”

I wrote that in March of 2021, and All Systems Red first entered the scene back in May of 2017 (though apparently my first read through wasn’t until April 2018).

Rereading All Systems Red near the end of 2025, it is phenomenal to think of how clearly Wells found the signal through the noise. I suppose that 8 years ago, we had social media feeds, and endless supply of media at our fingertips, and all the technological components which would go into a voice like Murderbot, which had all been around for about a decade. And yet, the unbearableness of being seen by other people, the strain of muddling through even basic interactions, the want to just be left alone . . . The begrudging acceptance that being by yourself isn’t actually what you need . . . And most importantly, the desire to exist outside of corporate interests . . .

It’s all incredibly “of this moment”. It’s startling in how much more this has seemingly become mainstream.

But these heavy topics are only really apparent upon thinking about the story afterward. In the moment, the reader is mostly distracted by the spectacle of Murderbot’s existence. All Systems Red doesn’t read much like an Alien movie, or Blade Runner, but Murderbot’s milieu kind of feels like it could loosely belong to these two properties. Murderbot is a sort of vaguely defined cyborg with organic and in-organic parts. And throughout the story we find that it’s the organic parts that are kinda starting to dominate Murderbot’s actions over the in-organic/robotic parts. There are also people in this milieu who are human, but augmented with machines.

Obviously, there are questions here about “what it means to be human”, but in this installment, they’re asked, but not answered. Since I have read most of the other novellas already, I know certain questions will be addressed in later books, but in this one, we’re mostly laying groundwork.

But this doesn’t mean that All Systems Red is not a complete story. It is. It just does what any good story does, ask more questions than it answers.

This is usually the part during a review where I start to throw criticisms at the work. I don’t really have any. I’m sure there are problems, but I’m not sure what they are. I did read a review which essentially stated that Murderbot has too many feelings, and there wasn’t enough action in the book. I think this person fundamentally misunderstood what they were reading.

This book has explosions. Bullets are fired. Fighting happens. The fight scenes in this book are surprisingly tactical. But the real action of this story takes place in Murderbot’s mind. In their relationship with the other characters.

Give ‘All Systems Red‘ a Read?

Yup! In 2021 I stated that Murderbot was one of my favorite characters in fiction. By 2025 that hasn’t changed. If anything this — third — read through has only allowed me to better understand why that is so. I’ll admit, I was somewhat startled by Well’s ability to really foretell the zeitgeist of 2025. And equally impressed by how much groundwork is laid in this first installment for what is to come!

Has anyone else read this one? What where your thoughts? What parts surprised you? Which ones are old hat?

Leave your thoughts in the comments. I’d love to talk some more about this one!

Until next time!

Knocking Over Dominoes: Veronica Roth’s ‘To Clutch a Razor’ Feels Positively Shakespearian

In my last post, I got back into my Slavic folklore era with Veronica Roth’s When Among Crows. I loved how the story set itself apart from other similar concepts with a modern day setting, showcasing some unique (terrifying) weapon choices, and positing a deep and sincere romantic subplot.

This week I’m continuing my journey through that story world with the second Curse Bearer novella: To Clutch a Razor.

If it’s possible, I think I enjoyed this sequel even more than the original, a feat that is, in my humble opinion, all too rare. As TCaR progresses, it becomes obvious just how much of When Among Crows was essentially just setting up the gameboard. With all these pieces in place, TCaR is allowed to just start knocking over dominoes. And boy oh boy does this book knock them over.

I can’t really point to specifics without spoiling major plot points, but the drama within this book is positively Shakespearian. Everyone seems somehow pitted against one another. Lovers, family, friends, enemies; it doesn’t matter, every relationship seems balanced on the edge of a knife, and Roth does an excellent job really making the reader believe it could go either way.

And even though there is plenty of wonder within the folkloric elements already in place from the first book, some new myths are incorporated into the story as well. I spotted some Rusalka outside a club in Chicago, and we meet a Dybbuk in the Polish countryside. Before we’ve even left the airport we encounter a Vila (polish Wiła). Also, there are Wieszczy, which I had never heard of before, but are described as almost zombie-like, with a typical hungering for flesh, but with a crucial level-up in horror: if their cravings get too bad, they will eat their OWN flesh . . . yikes.

To try and distract myself from that unsettling sight, I want to return to Roth’s description of the Wiła for a moment, as I think it demonstrates well what we see throughout the Curse Bearer series; a mix of old with new, a weaving of folkloric fantasy and modern reality. Early on, main character Ala bargains with a Wiła — who lives in an airport fountain — to give her the ability to speak Polish, the language of her ancestral home (though crucially not where she grew up):

“Standing beside her is a woman. But not merely a woman. She has long hair — most Wiła do — and her feet are bare, but otherwise she’s opted not to look like a figure from an old book of fairy tales. She wears, not a flowing white gown, or a crown of flowers in her hair, but a hot-pink dress that makes her skin look even duller and greener than it would have otherwise. In an attempt to mitigate this, perhaps, she’s wearing a liptstick to match the dress — but it’s garish on her, and incongruous, like it’s painted on a corpse.

Not all women are beautiful by the standard definitions, and not all Wiła are, either. This one isn’t. There’s something froglike about her round eyes and her wide mouth.” – pg 55

There’s probably some things to unpack surrounding beauty standards in these few lines, but I don’t feel remotely qualified to write on that. Instead I think it’s interesting how Roth still includes a brief description we might expect from a book of fairytales:

. . . not a flowing white gown, or a crown of flowers in her hair . . .

And then immediately goes pretty far afield of that expectation with:

“. . . but a hot pink dress that makes her skin look ever duller and greener than it would have otherwise . . . she’s wearing lipstick to match the dress — but it’s garish on her, and incongruous, like it’s painted on a corpse.

We can really sense that this creature is from an older time, but also that it still is able to exist because it adapts, even if it isn’t quite getting there.

Finally, we have the bargain Ala makes with the Wiła, one which I don’t think it’s hard to imagine Roth wanting to make as well when she was researching this book, to be able to speak the language of her ancestors (I believe Roth is from Polish descent).

As someone who took two years of Russian in college, and had a nearly 3 year streak studying Russian on Duolingo, I can’t help but wonder if there is something more to that desire. Roth is near me in terms of age, I wonder how many others of “my generation” have attempted to understand something more of their heritage, but simply can’t because they don’t even speak the same language . . .

Or, Ala’s desire to speak Polish is purely practical (she will be in Poland for a large chunk of the book), and the bargain is just an excuse to show off another interesting bit of folk legend. Who is to say?

I’ll begin to end this post by noting that Niko and Dymitr’s romance continues to expand in prominence within the story as well. Romance readers might argue it has gained enough critical mass to be considered the ‘main plot’ of the book but to my taste, it is still more of a sub-plot, with all the fighting and Knights vs Monsters still kind of occupying the main thrust of the story (for me). However, I was once again pleased with its inclusion. I hope they get to just go on a date sometime with out all the violence and sorrow of being the main characters in a dark fantasy hahah.

Give ‘To Clutch a Razor‘ a Read?

For certain. As mentioned above, I think I may have managed to enjoy To Clutch a Razor a bit more than When Among Crows. We get some new monsters and myths to marvel over, some positively Shakespearian plots, romance, and the ever fascinating mix between myth and modernity. But really I think where this book shines, is in the way it seems to capture a certain kind of desire to understand where we’ve come from, and an inevitable inability to do so . . .

That’s all I have for this week! What does everyone think? Anything I missed? As usual, what are your favorite Slavic myths and folkloric characters? Have you ever tried to learn a language? How did it go? What was your drive for picking it up?

Leave your thoughts in the comments! Looking forward to talking about this one!

Until next time . . .

The Best Kind of Nonsense: Why I Loved T. Kingfisher’s Nine Goblins

Looks like I’m back on my T. Kingfisher kick. This author is becoming somewhat ‘old-reliable’ when it comes to having a good audiobook for a long drive.

I went into this one pretty much blind. I’m not sure I even bothered to read the description. I just took one look at the cover, and the number of hours it would take to listen to (between 4-5) and hit the download button. Two long-ish drives later, I’ve decided to put off writing reviews on two other extremely good novellas, so I can get this one written before the memory fades too much. That’s how much I enjoyed Nine Goblins.

Of the works of T. Kingfisher I’ve read so far, this one feels the most blatantly comedic. I’ve mentioned in my reviews of What Feasts At Night and Jackalope Wives that there were many elements of Kingfisher’s style that reminded me of Terry Pratchett. Readers don’t have to dig very deep to see that same influence in Nine Goblins, it’s right there on the surface. Aside from the fact that it’s not set on the Discworld, I could almost believe this was a City Watch book. As such I think I actually laughed out loud a few times while on the road.

I think a few important choices allow this sort of standard orcs-vs-humans setting (I thought immediately of the videogame series Warcraft) to really bloom into a unique story all its own. First, focusing the main thrust of the story around a group of Goblins reframes the story as a kind of anti-colonial tale, in which humans and elves are (to start) painted as unrelenting expansionists.

Goblins as villainous demons or tricksters is pretty deeply engrained in our mythology and lore, so I was fascinated by all the ways Kingfisher found to make them sympathetic. Mainly this is accomplished through quirks and point of view. The funniest quirk (to me) was the goblin Blanchett, who doesn’t speak unless to express the speech of a teddy bear he carries with him. I think at some point the teddy bear gets promoted for of valor (to describe it in the Wayward Children parlance, this is a high nonsense world lol).

We also see the goblins being quite heroic in their own goblin-y ways. They’re generous with praise, though it comes in the form of an insult, and despite their villainous portrayal in other media, these goblins spend a lot of time finding reasons not to kill but to spare and even save what are by rights their enemies (somewhat tangent but related to this point: one goblin even adopts a kitten mid adventure (which gets named wiggles)).

By giving us this point of view from the Goblin’s perspective, these mythic creatures which are typically cast as side-characters or villains take center stage, the effect being ironically humanizing. I can’t really think of any other Fantasy media which takes on this point of view. And I feel you would be hard pressed to do it so well as Kingfisher does here.

Equally important to the story’s success, is its second POV, through the eyes of the elf Sings-To-Trees. He is a kind of veterinarian who specializes in the care of magical creatures which often just appear at his doorstep when they need help. Somewhat reminiscent of Radagast from Lord of the Rings — pre nervous breakdown — in occupation and function, Kingfisher takes an alternate tac on the Friend-to-All-Living-Things trope, requiring Sings-To-Trees to care for and love the ugliest and prickliest animals as well as the cute and cuddly ones.

This means that Sings-to-Trees has some of the silliest and most hilarious encounters in the book. In particular I’m thinking about pretty much any scene during which he must talk with trolls, who pretty much just repeat the same syllable over and over again with barely different inflections, yet still manage to get their meaning across. I’m not sure if this would be quite as funny in print, but it was absolutely hysterical on audio.

Give ‘Nine Goblins‘ a Read?

Oh yeah! It’s short, it’s funny, and in my opinion a great take on a classic and often taken for granted feature of Fantasy fiction: Goblins.

Whether it’s the baffling conversation between a clumsy, messy elf (Sings-to-Trees is really the opposite of everything we think of as high fantasy elves), and monosyllabic trolls, or the inverted correlation between real intelligence / competence and military rank, Nine Goblins is absolutely brimming with laughs.

But as is often the case, just because it’s funny does not mean it is devoid of depth or nuance. In particular, Kingfisher takes aim at colonialism, giving us the story from the view of the colonized, and maybe a bit of hope that coexistence is possible.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this story before? What did you like best? Can you think of any other stories which take on the POV of Goblins? What other fantasy main-stays would you like to see given this treatment?

As always please leave your thoughts in the comments section! Am really looking forward to discussing this one!

Outside My Normal Haunts: Exploring Rez Gothic With ‘Mapping The Interior’

Well we’re in the second week of our spooky era here on A&A and the shivers are starting to (ahem) creep down the spine. Excellent.

I have to admit, this is not my first Stephen Graham Jones story, and actually not even the first time I’ve read Mapping the Interior. According to Goodreads, I originally read this novella back in October of 2021 but never posted a review about it. Looking back at the archive from that time, it’s not particularly hard to see why. I was BUSY.

I had finally released Narmer and The God Beast on Amazon and was trying to talk a little bit about that. I was still deep in my Hugo Era and trying to keep up with everything going on there (I posted reviews of Tracy Deon’s Legendborn, Tochi Onyebuchi’s Riot Baby, and Jordan Ifueko’s Raybearer). And finally, I was trying to push out my own haunted house story for folks subscribing to my newsletter. It ended up being a kind of Steampunk version of Smarthouse which I named Boutilier House.

I’m honestly astonished I had the time to do all of that lol. In any case, I was probably reading a bunch of haunted house stories around that time, trying to get a sense of what had and hadn’t been done before in that space, not unlike the main character of Mapping the Interior, cataloguing the genre from the inside, mapping it out so that I could search it systematically, not for the ghost of my dead father, but for my muse!

Anyway, we’re here to review a novella, not get cute about marketing an old story, so lets get started with that!

Mapping the Interior feels notable for a few reasons. Similar to The Grownup, the story does not open with a description of the house, but with the main character sleep walking. We learn about the house a few pages later, and it also bucks our expectations. It’s modular. At only 1140 square feet (avg in 2025 is 2,200 square feet), it is a far cry from the mansions we’re used to reading about in early Gothic literature, or even the abandoned suburban haunts we see in more modern horror. Also, Jones is Blackfeet Native American and depicts Native American characters within the story.

All of these choices, from the size and character of the house, to the backgrounds of the people living in it, build a picture we’re not used to reading in Haunted House stories. An example of what Wikipedia describes as “. . . Native American Gothic, or Rez Gothic: a niche publishing genre characterized as using fantasy, science fiction, and horror to shed light on racial inequalities . . .” (from the wiki for Stephen Graham Jones)

Mapping the Interior is certainly not the first book to do this, not even in Stephen Graham Jones’ catalog, but it felt representative to me of the power this kind of fiction can have and an important deviation from the classic trappings of a Haunted House story.

But for all the tropes and expectations this novella subverts, it stays true to form in one major element, managing to be both deep and meaningful and a supremely unsettling read (which is what we come to horror for right!).

Part of that feeling of awe and dread the reader experiences — I feel — comes from the perspective the story is told. Our narrator, Junior, is only twelve years old at the time the main part of the story takes place, and there is a type of sureness and certainty in the supernatural that adults just don’t have any longer. And through this perspective we are made to believe what happens is real, we are made to believe in ghosts.

And we’re able to bridge the gap between our own age and a child’s because Junior is simply incredibly well written. Indigo Xix writes:

“. . . this is the kind of child I adore: he is innocent and precocious, noble and self-involved all a the same time. He is, in other words, a real human child, full of the complexities and contradictions that all children have.” – Stephen Graham Jones’s ‘Mapping the Interior – A Review

I could not agree more, or put it any better (hence the quote hahah).

Of course there is also the ghost itself, which walks a perfect tight rope between violent benevolence, and indisputable evil. Through most of the story, the reader is never quite sure just what kind of ghost this is. A helpful spirit? Or a hateful devil?

Also, incredibly (ahem) fleshed out, this ghost just feels like something Jones pulled from a Native American myth or legend. Normally, I know half the fun of a read like this would be tracking down just which legend it came from and just what connections that myth has to the larger culture. Unfortunately, I have a rather shallow knowledge of Native American mythology and am not even sure quite where to start. Even Jones himself isn’t quite sure exactly where this haunt originated from. He tells Paul Semel (of paulsemel.com) that:

“Try as I might, I can’t remember what ghost-stories I might have had in mind when I wrote this. I was watching a lot of Westerns, I recall . . .” – Exclusive Interview: Mapping The Interior Author Stephen Graham Jones

If this is the case, I am perhaps more impressed, since it means that the horrors written on the page are just whatever horrors Jones came up with himself.

Finally, we have the end, which I won’t spoil, but which I would consider a true coda (like in a musical composition). At first, it feels a bit tacked-on, but after some consideration, I feel it is actually perfect because it makes the story NOT perfect. We have a nicely finished story, and then a bit extra which just leaves us a little bit unsettled. I don’t think every story could, or should do this, but I did enjoy this technique here. It just felt right for Mapping the Interior.

Give ‘Mapping The Interior’ a Read?

Absolutely! As a quick but meaningful diversion from the ‘typical’ haunted house story, Mapping the Interior fulfills that need exceedingly well, and as an intro to Native American Gothic, or Rez Gothic, it brings you up to speed in just a short 100-ish pages. I really enjoyed reading from Junior’s perspective, and was able to appreciate just how well this kid is written that his viewpoint alone enables us to really BELIEVE in ghosts, and increasingly fear and dread them as Junior learns to do as the story progresses.

While I couldn’t pick up exactly which myth or legend our haunt comes from, I found myself more impressed as it meant that the author did not have a template from which to draw, but really had to rely on his own creativity and knowledge to keep the reader scared (which I was!). And finally, I enjoyed the ‘coda-like’ nature of the end which left us feeling as unsettled as ever despite getting the ‘good ending’.

That’s all I have for this week! Has anyone read this novella before? Or any other Stephen Graham Jones stories? Which are your favorite? Did you recognize the ghost here from a native myth or legend? Where might we start our search?

Leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments section! I’m looking forward to talking about this one!

See you next time for some more Haunted House adventures! Stay spooky everyone hahah.

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

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 Bite-Sized Islands: Sixth of the Dusk

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!

Great Audiobooks Part 2: Four Hours Long

We’re back with part two of our “Great Audiobooks” series. Part 1 covered books between three and four hours long, and listed some amazing titles like The Black God’s Drums, Thornhedge, and Untethered Sky.

This week, we’ll again reference the book which got this whole thing rolling, and list out four more titles which I felt are really great reads (listens).

For any curious, this series came about because I have a recurring drive which lasts about a novella’s worth of time, and as such, find myself in constant need of recommendations for good, but relatively short books to listen to. Most of the posts I come across recommending audiobooks don’t seem to take length into account. So here’s me being the change I want to see in the world, and writing the posts I would want to read. Hopefully someone out there will find these useful.

These next five titles should all come in at almost exactly 4hours long. Enjoy!

Your Shadow Half Remains

4hrs

I see references to the pandemic in fiction here and there (John Scalzi’s The Kaiju Preservation Society comes to mind), but I don’t think I’ve yet read any “Pandemic Novels”, by which I mean I don’t think I’ve really read anything yet that attempts to grapple with just how long we were stuck inside our homes.

The pandemic in Your Shadow Half Remains is undoubtedly worse than what we experienced in real life, yet I was constantly amazed at just how true it felt to lived experience. Riley’s constant anxiety about whether or not the “rules” had changed, seemed to echo our own constant updates regarding how, when, where and what our quarantine should look like. Simply seeing another person and not knowing if you are suddenly in danger, or worse, putting them in danger with your presence.

This novella leans hard into all of that. And while I’m curious how it will hold up in the opinion of future generations who haven’t had this to deal with, it is definitely something to read right now.

The Deep

4hrs 1 min

This book’s title says it all. On the surface, The Deep is a story about merpeople born of pregnant slaves thrown overboard and left to drown in the Atlantic during the crossing to America (already a weighty subject), but there is so much more history and context surrounding this piece, that readers will quickly find they’ve left the shallow end.

Highlights for me were its immersive setting, the inner struggle of its main character Yetu, and its position as another link in a chain of storytelling which spans multiple decades and mediums of artistry.

This one stays with you . . .

Penric’s Demon

4hrs 2 min

Compared with the last two novellas I’ve listed, Penric’s Demon is a much lighter affair. I’m not sure I’d classify it as a “cozy fantasy”, or at least not in the way my inexperienced (with that genre) eyes feel that genre looks these days in early 2025, but it definitely has a smaller scope then a lot of fantasy (a plus in my book).

As discussed in the post, Bujold is known for the partnerships in her work, but I also noted her humor, and her magic which feels systematic, yet suffers no loss of awe or wonder for it.

Definitely worthy of all the accolades it’s received.

Across the Green Grass Fields

4hrs 3min

Probably a lot of folks are familiar with the Wayward Children books by now. To date, there are something like TEN novellas in this series, the most recent published just this January (2025).

I read the first three of these before I’d really picked up blogging again, and then sort of lost track of things a few installments later. Across the Green Grass Fields is the last one I read, and likely my favorite of the bunch so far. For as much as these books are supposed to be about what happens to children AFTER they return from their portal fantasy, I couldn’t help but fall in love with the Hooflands. There is also some very nuanced yet blatant critique of gender performance worth reading and thinking about.

Another great read.

Jade Setter of Janloon

4hrs 5min

Admittedly, I didn’t listen to this one, but got an ebook ARC through Net Galley. However, I just love this author, and the Green Bone books in general. It may seem like an impossible task to provide a truly engaging story set in Kekon following the masterpiece that was Jade Legacy, but Jade Setter of Janloon does a more than admiral job.

In fact, for any experiencing a bit of Green Bone withdrawal, I felt this book was the perfect fix. Fonda Lee is undoubtedly a master when it comes to writing compelling characters, and we see some old favorites in JSoJ, but where the book truly shines is in the dynamics between its new cast, and the ever evolving mystery they must solve before the end.

A great read for veterans of the series, but also a compelling entry point for new fans!

Wrapping Up

Well, that’s all I have for now. If you missed the first part of this list, please go check out Great Audio Books Part 1 which are all between 3 – 4 hours long.

And while I have you, what are some of your favorite novellas on audio? Any I should have included on this list? Or maybe the next one? (Stay tune for a Part 3 coming soon! lol)

Leave your thoughts in the comments. Looking forward to talking about this with everyone!
See you next time!

Great Audiobooks Part 1: Between 3-4 Hours Long

Last week, I reviewed Your Shadow Half Remains, an excellent (but somewhat harrowing) novella which I listened to while on a long drive which generally takes between two and a half to three hours depending on traffic. Tack on a similar ETA for the drive home, and you’ve got a solid four to five hour round trip for which an audiobook just seems the perfect thing to combat the silence.

Since this is the route to visit family, making this drive has been, and will continue to be, a sort of recurring event for which I’m always looking for more things to listen to along the way. However, I don’t think Libby allows you to sort works by length in hours (yet), and listicles of audiobook recommendations don’t seem to be quite that specific, usually just turning up whatever audiobook is popular of any length.

So, applying some advice from Toni Morrison — who said: “If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it ” — to blogging, I’m writing the post I want to read, and hoping that somebody else out there might want to read it too.

This list was not intended to include only Speculative Fiction, but that’s pretty much what I mostly read. You’ll notice there is a lot of crossover here between this list and the list of Hugos I’ve reviewed. Looking in the novella category seems a reliable way of finding works of the right length, as does the Locust: Recommended Reading lists. I found my most recent read in the 2024 list.

All the books in this list are between 3-4 hrs long. When I originally conceptualized this list it was 15 books between 3-5 hrs long but it became a bit unwieldly to read (and to write), and so I’ll probably follow this post up with a 4hr version, and a 5hr version.

I’ve tried to provide a sentence or two as a recommendation, but of course clicking the link to my actual review will give you a better idea. Enjoy!

The Black God’s Drums

3 Hrs 4 min

I have to admit, I actually didn’t listen to this one, but found a print copy of it at my local library. However, I thought it was just too good not to include. P. Djeli Clark is kinda THEE steampunk author for me these days, and he appears several times on this list (and on my blog).

The Black God’s Drums is a good representation of Clark at his best, showcasing his ability to write queer representation, richly detailed alternate history, and a truly great cast of leading women. Where I felt what made The Black God’s Drums stand apart from the rest of Clark’s canon, was its setting, and the prominence of Orisha gods and goddesses. Its setting in New Orleans also seems to kind of place it within a moment in speculative fiction which I found interesting.

Highly recommend this one.

The Haunting of Tram Car 015

3hrs 22 min

I promise, this list is not only P. Djeli Clark titles. But our second entry is another title from his works, this time, one of the A Dead Djinn in Cairo stories. I LOVE these stories although looking at my review from 2022, The Haunting of Tram Car 015 was not my favorite of the bunch. However, it offers a unique haunting (how many tram cars have you seen haunted?), and some cool prescient messaging in the final scene which occurs at a women’s suffrage rally.

I hope I can write something as cool someday!

Thornhedge

3hrs 43 min

Fair warning, we’ll see a lot of T. Kingfisher in future iterations of this post. This first recommendation is a Locus Best novella and also took the 2024 Hugo rocket. In my initial reading, I wasn’t quite sure what made Thornhedge stand out among the mass of other fairytale retellings, but some further reflection led me to think that perhaps people were mostly affected by the story’s inclusion of a Muslim Knight, and the representation afforded to “ugly” (or at least not classically beautiful) characters. Personally, I was mostly in love with the Greenteeth.

Another great read!

Riot Baby

3hrs 46min

Another Hugo contestant. Looking back at my review from 2021, I think I was certainly having a lot of feelings about Riot Baby. Always a good sign. I described it as prescient, insightful, and powerful. It is raw emotion, and a vivid critique of the connection between racism and technology in society. It’s fully realized characters (even the throw away ones), and a new take on the Chosen One trope.

It’s just so good.

Untethered Sky

3hrs 59 min

Of course we’re all familiar with Fonda Lee’s Green Bone Saga, and the skill and precision with which that story was crafted. It’s a whole a vibe, and probably one that we could all use some therapy after reading (which I mean as good thing. I love those books!).

Untethered Sky is its own vibe, and was for me, even more proof that Fonda Lee is just good at this. It wasn’t luck (I don’t think anyone thought it was).

Still Grimdark, and still VERY emotional, but Untethered Sky pioneers new territory for this author, focusing on Found Family instead of literal family, and taking on some weighty topics like the true cost of obsession. It features positively written autistic characters, references to persian mythology, and beautifully written prose.

Don’t walk, fly towards this one!

Wrapping Up

That’s all I have for now. As I mentioned before, stay tuned for Part 2 (4hrs), and Part 3 (5hrs) to be released in the coming weeks. Hoping someone found this useful!

Oh, before I forget! Does anyone have any recs for audiobooks around this length? I’d love for you to leave them in the comments! Did I mention any books you loved? Any you didn’t like? Let me know!

Until next time!