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It's been brought to my attention I finally read the Shattered Earth trilogy last year, and didn't blog it. This came up when I mentioned my completely inexplicable desire to reread apocalypse fiction in this year when California is either burning or downwind of some of the worst wildfires on record.

...Okay, maybe this impulse has some explanation. Ahem.

For anyone who missed this on the first pass: fantasy / science fantasy trilogy, published 2015 - 2017, set on a world which is prone to geologic catastophes - volcanoes, earthquakes, tsunamis - that generate "fifth seasons": years without summer, or even clear skies. A second major worldbuilding chunk are the orogenes: people attuned to the earth's movements, who can deflect - or cause - some of these catastrophes. Orogenes are hated and feared by non-orogenes, perceived as another quake threat in lives organized around the inevitability of the next shake.

These come together in the first novel when a powerful orogene triggers a Fifth Season that could last centuries and wipe out humanity, just as the protagonist, Essun, learns her husband has discovered their young son is an orogene. Now the son is dead, and Essun's husband and daughter are missing. The Fifth Season packs in Essun backstory, general worldbuilding, and forward motion on Essun's road trip to find her husband and discover what he's done with her daughter.

The middle novel, The Obelisk Gate, alternates between Essun's adjustment to a community that is throwing out the book on orogene relations, and the travels of Nassun, Essun's daughter. Both learn more about using and mastering the orogenic powers they share.

The Stone Sky continues the physical and emotional journeys of Essun and Nassun, and adds the PoV of one of the enigmatic Stone Eaters, who retells the origins of the Seasons, as well as the deep-rooted (ha) whispers linked to hatred for orogenes. The fantasy / science fantasy vibe goes full Epic - Evil Father Earth turns out to be an intelligence (and not a happy one), there's a six-person trip through the earth's subsurface, powered by ~stone eater powers~, people throw around unimaginable power to do stuff with astral bodies - it's A Lot.




Okay, so, this is a really well written trilogy. It's dense and punchy and thoughtful. And it's also really angry. Look at the dedications: the first novel is "For all those who have to fight for the respect that everyone else is given without question." The second is "To those who have no choice but to prepare their children for the battlefield." The third goes out "To those who've survived: Breathe. That's it. Once more. Good. You're good. Even if you're not, you're alive. That is a victory."

If that's going to be an issue, well, know going in. Also know about the infanticide, the systemic use of violence to craft cages of habit and fear in people's minds, the various in-family killings, the extremely broken protagonists. (As I think [personal profile] skygiants put it, "I don't think Essun destroyed any cities at all this book! I'm so proud!" Ah, yes.)

The trilogy also bends toward fantasy, with titanic battles of will on not-quite-physical planes. It's not that the trilogy doesn't stick the landing. It just... it's the titanic battles of will landing. Which I am less excited about. I think I liked the second novel, which has a lot of community-building (and cycles of abuse stuff, because the entire trilogy is like that), more than I liked the third novel, which is a lot more interested in the epic fantasy stuff. I'm not sure it quite stuck the landing about destruction vs reform (some things can't be reformed, seems to be the argument; I'm still looking for a middle ground between Congress passes one measly bylaw and millions are killed because the system must be destroyed). On one level that seems to be where the trilogy's going: the climatic scene is a parent-child reunion. On another it's not. The climatic reunion is enmeshed with the two characters battling out the question of whose world-altering agenda is going to get implemented... and whose world-altering agenda is going to get set aside Because Family. The parts that come down to character work are really intense, the parts that are Epic are not as much my thing.

Random bonus: when I ran into the Pulpí Geode and Naica Caves it made me think of Castrima-under.
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This Is How You Lose The Time War (Amal El-Mohtar, Max Gladstone)(2019): Novella, DNF. Multiverse time travel conflict between bio-oriented Garden and the tech-oriented Agency stands as background for the romance of Blue and Red, who manipulate the fate of different strands to their masters' wills. 

The narrative alternates between Red and Blue, each chapter made up of first person present tense experience leading to a letter from the other character. It has the most lush prose I've slogged through since I gave up on Valente; and like Valente's work, is more interested in purple prose-y artifice and stilted effect on the sentence level than telling a story. This is what happens when you aim for "luminous prose" and miss, IMO. It's frustrating to have a run of stories that sound great on paper and summarize with a bang, but fail to capture and sustain my interest in the story, the characters, or any of the related elements of the written word. 

Around halfway through I want looking for spoilers and found [personal profile] lightreads' comment that the novella's "about" is "engendering hunger", which killed any lingering desire to finish the story. Cue "I Want It All" on my headphones as I walk and bus and drive through a city absolutely crammed with people who are hungry to found a unicorn, people who are hungry for food security and housing, people who are numbed to hunger by personal upheaval, at a time when we see corrupting, unbalanced hunger at a national level... an absence of hunger has rarely been a problem I have thought to worry about. It's a metaphor that speaks to me, yes: it says that it's time to hurl the story against a wall and move on.

I postponed the throwing reflex long enough to flip to the last sections, which goes to that place where Red and Blue's personal timelines wind up inextricably meshed in ways that are Not For Me, and gave up.

Lent (Jo Walton) (2019): Jo Walton does Groundhog Day! In Renaissance Florence! Mostly Florence. Richard III guest stars. 

Liked it! Spoilers. )

Thrawn: Treason (Timothy Zahn) (2019): Entertaining tie-in novel. Tarkin throws down a bet: if Thrawn solves a problem for Krennic, Thrawn's TIE Defender product gets the budget. If Thrawn doesn't solve Krennic's problem, Project Stardust gets the budget. Thrawn and the Chimera are saddled with one of Krennic's assistant directors - and his flowing white cloak -  the bet runs into Imperial politics and an intrusion from some old foes from the Unknown Regions.

At the beginning of the novel I disliked Assistant Director Ronan with all the fire my heart generates for Third Imperial Flunky On The Left (with a flowing white cloak!). By the end of the novel, Ronan was promoted to Accidental Comedic Relief thanks to his genuine belief that Thrawn had a secret plan to fight inflation. (Spoilers: there is no secret plan to fight inflation.) The last time someone took the available information and ran with it in such a catastrophically mistaken direction was back in Legends. Something about the Noghri in general and Khabarakh clan Khim'bar in specific having an off day? Ronan's small - almost insignificant - failure to figure out what is going on is going to make his post-novel life Something Else.

What more... I am absolutely in favor of the plan for Faro to get a fleet instead of a task force. There's an essay I am not writing about military SF and women in mil SF and how much I miss straight-up early Honor Harrington novels, which in retrospect are kind of clunky, but were a formative influence in my teens. I am A+ in favor of Faro and Ar'alani passing the Bechdel; I am not in favor of Eli getting the "please kill me if the pirates board" speech from the navigators. Come on, the navigators are Force-sensitive, I'm pretty sure Vah'nya at least could figure out how to use a knife; or, this being SW, a thermal detonator to take some Grysks straight to the afterlife with her.

The Raven Tower (Ann Leckie) (2019): Fantasy standalone in the same universe as several of her shorter works including "The God of Au", "Marsh Gods", "The Nalendar", and "The Unknown God", none of which I've gotten around to reading as of this writing. I did my best to avoid spoilers; this starts slow, in my personal nemesis, second person present tense, which did not help. Once I adjusted to that, and to the flashbacks, I got along with the novel perfectly well.

The spoilers. )

The Fated Sky (Mary Robinette Kowal) (2018): Sequel to the Nebula- and Hugo-winning The Calculating Stars.

The story seems to be aiming for Space Race alternate history as a subgenre. The problem is, the choices are not organic to the characters or opening premise; they are forced by where the author wants the plot to conclude, and how she wants her social justice to work out. )

If you liked The Calculating Stars, you'll probably like The Fated Sky. If you thought reading Stars was as fun as Eating Your Vegetables, well, Sky is very like, only mostly in tin cans far from Earth. Go forth and make good choices.

Spinning Silver (Naomi Novik) (2018): reread. First, because the local used book store had a copy; second, because was not done with my disappointment with last year's Hugo nominees. (It was not a good year for me!)

Surpassing Certainty: What My Twenties Taught Me (Janet Mock) (2017): Second biography by the writer and activist, touching on love and further explorations of living an authentic life. The author is 100% in control of her material, managing to describe her experiences in a way that evokes both empathy and the occasional "ouch, what a roommate situation" wince as she grows, heals, and lives.
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Last of the Hugo notes! After this I gave up, because I was out of time and out of mental energy to deal with a less-than-stellar year (in my mind).

"The Tale of the Three Beautiful Raptor Sisters, and the Prince Who Was Made of Meat" by Brooke Bolander: Skip! Maybe I am making assumptions based on past works, but the title suggests where this is going, and it's nowhere I'm interested in going.

"The Secret Lives of the Nine Negro Teeth of George Washington" by P. Djèlí Clark: Skip. I am sure this would be good, if I could get past my "ew, teeth" issue.

"STET" by Sarah Gailey: Structure is too much work, too late at night, too close to deadline. Skip.

"A Witch's Guide to Escape: A Practical Compendium of Portal Fantasies" by Alix E. Harrow: This isn't how librarians work. This isn't how any of this works! Except for filling in the pool instead of integrating, because the South. That sounds like genuine America.

"The Rose MacGregor Drinking and Admiration Society" by T. Kingfisher: An author I have faith I will enjoy! I will save this until the end of my Hugo reading! [October update: still haven't read it].

"The Court Magician" by Sarah Pinsker: Stories like this are such a poignant reminder I am a cold-blooded individualist, who asks, "what's in it for me," and doesn't trust anyone's retirement plan.
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Additional incomplete Hugo commentary!

The Only Harmless Great Thing by Brooke Bolander: Combining two things that are terrible -  humans being terrible to other humans in the name of capitalism, humans tormenting non-humans for passing entertainment - in one nightmarish "why?" of fiction. What is the purpose of radium elephants? What storytelling achievement was aimed for here? I do not understand.

"If at First You Don’t Succeed, Try, Try Again" by Zen Cho: An imugi fails to become a dragon, lives with a human, figures out this dragon thing. I'm sort of hung up on the imugi failing to pass as human, or a celestial being, or as anyone other than the imugi the human saw before the relationship, and the human in this relationship repeatedly saying, "oh, I knew the whole time, I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." That... it's weird.

"The Last Banquet of Temporal Confections" by Tina Connolly: Interesting conceit. Not 100% sold on the execution, but an interesting idea!

"Nine Last Days on Planet Earth" by Daryl Gregory: Humans will adapt? I guess?

"When We Were Starless" by Simone Heller: I keep trying to say something that isn't, "this reads like someone's postapocalyptic Cybertron AU" and failing. It's not bad, it's... middle of the road genfic.

"The Thing About Ghost Stories" by Naomi Kritzer: Ghost story! Daughter who studies ghost stories gets her mom's ring because ghosts! That's it, that's the story. Nice smooth writing, no pain to read.
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Since it's October and I am showing no plans to clean up my Hugo reading comments, it's "post and run" time. I will leave my comments from, er, July, as the historical relics they are.

- Jo Walton's An Informal History of the Hugos is the nominee to beat, in my mind. A collection of columns about previous Hugo nominees and winners, with comments extracted from the original online discussions? It's also Jo Walton talking about SF/F; Walton talks about the genre in a way that's one of my standards for How To Talk About Genre. Slam dunk. [October annotation: ...well, it's a good thing I don't bet for money.]

- Hobbit documentary: I most liked the parts which discuss the movies' artistic / narrative / etc failings, and some of the behind-the-scenes studio notes. The parts about the narrator trying to reconnect with her personal joy in the canon and fandom wasn't as compelling to me.

- Astounding (Alec Nevala-Lee): going down to the Walton. Sorry, author.

- Mexicanx Initiative: it's unclear to me how "we had a great time at Worldcon" is a related work. The bilingual fiction collection might be, maybe.

- Le Guin: a meh Le Guin is still worth reading, but Related Works has a lot of strong nominees this year!

- AO3 will live to be nominated again. Sorry, AO3; your proponents will get my vote in a year with a weaker field. 
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That "post as you read" didn't work for me. If I'd waited until I'd read all the Lodestones, the "plucky rebellious teen girl, in present tense..." summary opening opportunity would have presented itself.

Children of Blood and Bone (Tomi Adeyemi) (2018): Plucky teen girl fights racism and an oppressive regime, in first present tense! )

The Belles (Dhonielle Clayton) (2018): Did not finish. Plucky teen girl fights beauty standards and corruption, in first present tense! )

Tess of the Road (Rachel Hartman) (2018): Plucky teen girl fights stifling family and social expectations, in third person past tense! )

Dread Nation (Justina Ireland) (2018): Plucky teen girl fights zombies and discrimination, in first present tense! )

The Invasion (Peadar O'Guilin) (2018):Plucky teen girl has survived a fight with the Sidhe, must now fight the government, in *third person* present tense. )

What can I say about the Lodestones?

First: YA is apparently not my genre. All these novels engage with things I should find interesting - racism, sexism, unrealistic beauty standards and class signalling via same, etc - but do so in ways that run counter to telling a story that compels me to keep reading.

Second: I walked away feeling I'd read some long movie pitches. The novels didn't seem to use the written word format to maximum effect. Children of Blood and Bone particularly struck me as having the energy and visual imagination of Star Wars, where the spaaaaaaace! component has been replaced with a fantastic Africa. It would look awesome! You can practically hear the soundtrack! For me, this is not an intrinsic plus! The joy of the written word is that an experienced and talented writer can do things with it that would be difficult or impossible to convey in another medium; or at least, would be best communicated through scripting, staging, and direction that reflect the spirit rather than the letter of a story. To read a novel and think how little it would take to put it on screen is to read something that hasn't made the most of its medium.

The first person present tense prevalent in these nominees may not help. Unless the protagonist is unusually observant, extroverted, or strategic for a teenager, it takes a writer at the top of their game to slide more mature observations around the PoV character.

(And if at any point I think, "but what if the Fair Folk kidnapped Ari Emory? How long until she took over their throne(s)? Or what if they took Caitlin, that would be a Fae bloodbath," it's time for me to put the novel down and admit it's not for me.)

What's interesting to me is that cursory web searches indicates several of these were quite well received in the YA market. What is the attraction? Clearly I need a teen to make dolphin noises of joy at me until I understand what part of the teen reader soul these novels lock into.

For voting... I don't know yet! I suppose I should rank the DNFs at the bottom of my votes, but I'm pretty apathetic about the nominees I did finish. Feel free to suggest rankings in comments.
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I wasn't going to do a [personal profile] rachelmanija style One Book One Post thing this month, but I may need to, in order to really have at my feelings about the Lodestone nominees.

The Cruel Prince (Holly Black) (2018): Fantasy. Human woman married a faerie guy, got pregnant. faked her death, and ran back to the mortal world with her human lover. Some years later, faerie guy finds out where she is, delivers a return-or-die ultimatum. This quickly ends in the messy deaths of the human woman and her human now-husband. Faerie guy takes his daughter and her full-human half-sisters, twin girls, back to faerie. Fast forward a couple of years, and the story starts.

Meh. Spoilers abound. )
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The Tea Master and the Detective (Aliette de Bodard): Consulting detective solicits the skills of a maker of blends that have psychotropic properties, allowing people to survive "deep space" (FTL?) unscathed. Deep space and bad experiences there shape the narrative.

Unlike Peach (see below), I figured out how to read this: close enough to Sherlock Holmes and John Watson to start there. Notably, most of the characters are women; it's as if Bodard has taken to heart "why make Third Spear-Carrier on the Left a man when they could be a woman?" and carried that through to, "why not make everyone a woman?"

As a nominee... it's rock solid writing, would not be sad if this took a rocket home.

The Black God's Drums (P. Djèlí Clark) (2018): Steampunk (?) historical AU in the free city of New Orleans. The orisha-touched protagonist overhears a deal involving the Confederate States and a Haitian scientist who aided in the construction of a doomsday weapon, and enmeshes herself in a counter-plan.

Drums is perfectly acceptable writing. It doesn't do anything new, but it does a competent take on existing memes. Would be a safe choice compared to the wildly variable creativity and skill in the novellas this year.

Beneath the Sugar Sky (Seanan McGuire) (2018):Third of the Wayward Children novellas.

So close, yet so far. ) The more I think about the moral underpinnings and worldbuilding assumptions of the Wayward Children series, the less I like the implications.

Binti: The Night Masquerade (Nnedi Okorafor) (2018): Binti confronts personal tragedy and a crisis in Meduse-Khoush relationships as she asserts her Hausa identity, even while she continues to change.

More ambitious than successful. ) Not my favorite of Okorafor's work, and for me, not a strong contender in this year's field.

Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach (Kelly Robson) (2018): I do not understand what just happened. )

Anyone who understood what this novella was trying to do, please explain it in comments. Anyone as baffled as me, let's be mutually puzzled in comments!

Artificial Condition (Martha Wells) (2018): Previously read. Interstitial, which is a minus, but includes ART, who is currently my favorite minor character in the Murderbot series.

Prelim rankings: Artificial Condition, Tea Master, Drums, Night Masquerade, Peach, Sugar Sky, No Award. I have no idea what Peach was trying to do, but it was failed in interesting ways. I may shuffle rankings before voting closes, but mostly in the middle and bottom of the range.
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It's Hugo season!

Record of a Spaceborn Few (Becky Chambers) (2018): Third novel in the Wayfairers universe. A tragedy in the human Exodus Fleet and the tragedy's fallout gradually force five characters to reassess their lives.

Generation ships after humans have reached other planets is exactly the sort of concept that sounds up my alley. However, unfocused writing is the opposite of up my alley. )

The Calculating Stars (Mary Robinette Kowal) (2018): Historical AU. A very large asteroid takes out DC and the Chesapeake. Our Protagonists fear that an impact winter will be followed by an out of control greenhouse effect and the end of a human-survivable climate. Cue an accelerated space program, from the perspective of a woman, Edna York, who really wants to be an astronaut. Edna is an ex-WASP and mathematician working as a computer when the Meteor strikes the Earth. ("It's a meteorite!" Edna says, a lot. The media does not listen.) During the story her eyes are opened to racism, particularly against African-Americans, and Edna herself has to confront some pretty extreme anxiety issues.

All the spoilers. Flawed but interesting. )

And with all that said, I want to read the sequel. Give me flawed and imperfect and something I can argue with over perfect wispy nothingness.

Revenant Gun (Yoon Ha Lee) (2018): Previously read. Wasn't my fave, but I finished it. I'm still disturbed that I missed All The Consent Subtext, Which Is Not Actually Subtextual, because that really changes the reading of the entire Machineries of Empire Trilogy.

Spinning Silver (Naomi Novik) (2018): Previously read. I suspect this novel is catering to my specific demographic in a way that blinds me to some of its flaws, but I finished it, and I liked it.

Trail of Lightning (Rebecca Roanhorse) (2018): To me, this feels very strongly of Harry Dresden in Diné land. Or maybe it's a subgenre with Laurell K. Hamilon? The takeaways are violence against women, and perpetuated by women; it's (almost) always Coyote's fault; in all that toting and shooting of guns, did the shotgun and Glock ever get cleaned / maintained? Trail didn't impress me as Hugo material. But continuing the the Dresden files comparison, I am curious to see what Roanhorse does as she matures as a writer and hits her stride. Butcher's later novels are much better at being novels compared to his earlier work.

Space Opera (Catherynne Valente) (2018): Valente really does not believe in using one descriptor when a rambling paragraph of description is available. Disengaged by mid-chapter 2 (of 36); did not finish. Its too bad; Valente is shooting for Eurovision in space meets Douglas Adams, but I wonder if it might be compared to the New Wave's shift into "softer" SF as well. But to find out, I'd have to get past a nearly unreadable prose style and the deadly words "I do not care about any of these people". Possible wispy nothing.

Rankings: Spinning Silver, Calculating Stars, toss-up between Revenant Gun and Trail of Lightning, toss-up between Record of a Spaceborn Few and No Award, Space Opera.

At least one other voter I've spoken with argues No Award should be saved for political statements, but I find that post-Puppies I am more willing to say, "this is not good writing" and rank No Award high.

Next: the novellas!
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I forgot that I read Ash in December and January!

Ash: A Secret History (2000)(Mary Gentle) is alt history fantasy. It uses the word "fuck" a lot. The thumping doorstopper of a novel claims to be based on medieval texts covering the life of a mercenary captain, Ash, with a number of interstitial email hardcopies of conversations between the "translator" and a publisher's agent. The emails are less unimportant than they initially appear.

I made my first stab at Ash pre-LJ... late high school? Early college? In the US, It was published in four paperback volumes, and I happened to get my hands on the first. It was a period of indiscriminate reading. I struggled through the rape, gore, and sense that something was Not Right about the historical background until the end of the first volume, and despite my usual completionist streak, never got around to the rest of the series.

However, Ash is now available in one complete ebook, and was $3.99 when [personal profile] cahn picked it up based on [personal profile] rachelmanija's reread and got me thinking about it again. Just as importantly, I was doing a lot of travel in December and January, and big fat ebooks pack exceptionally well for long flights.

Spoilers consider about what is reality, anyway. )
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Thawn: Alliances (2018) (Timothy Zahn): I will paraphrase for the masses:

Thrawn: It's too bad about Anakin Skywalker.
Thrawn: He was pretty cool, you know.
Darth Vader: *breathes ominously*

The novel is not 100% Thrawn trolling Vader, but it's certainly a recurring theme of Operation Imperial Shenangians In the Unknown Regions. Said shenanigans are intercut with flashbacks to the Clone Wars, when Thrawn teamed up with Anakin Skywalker, who was chasing down Secret Wife Padme, who dropped out of sight while tracking down a missing operative. The time cuts don't do fantastic things for the pacing, but do pay off at the end, when a planet's Imperial-era devastation is shown to be caused by one of Anakin's short-sighted Clone Wars-era decisions. It's very in character for Anakin. That attention to getting plot and character to move together is one reason I keep picking up Zahn's Star Wars novels. Zahn also does good worldbuilding. Some of the fanboys gnash their teeth about Zahn putting limits on what you can do with Jedi powers, the horror! I like that, it's much more interesting to work around limits and use all powers at your disposal - Jedi powers, observation, intelligence, teamwork - to solve a plot problem.

Over the Edge: Death in Grand Canyon (2001) (Michael P. Ghiglieri, Thomas M. Myers) is exactly what the title says. Death by river, death by falling off the rim, death by heat exhaustion, death by hypothermia, etc. Even discounting the catastrophic 1956 mid-air collision of two commercial flights, which directly lead to the FAA's creation, there's a surprising number of aviation related fatalities. Note to self: never get in a prop plane or a helicopter around the Grand Canyon.

Alliance Rising (2019) (C. J. Cherryh, Jane S. Fancher): I am all for presenting the same data from different characters' PoVs to show differences between sundry factions: in this case the Alpha Station residents; the local FTL spacers who are the lifeblood of the station, but separate from it; the Earth Company corporate execs who look to the time-lagged motherworld as the source of all good and right things; and the merchanters arriving from deep space and foreign ports with news of change. However. It's a technique best used in limited doses, or the reader will say, "well, somewhere in this 352 page hardcover there is a cracking good 150 page story."

So: Finity's End pops into Alpha Station, with a proposal for a new alliance between merchanters, in a period of Alliance-Union canon predating the rest of the canon novels so far. There's some awkward nods at trying to diversify and update what has been a very white-bread future. It's nice to see the attempt, but trying to retrofit a canon that was roughed out in the late '70s invites questions about what else needs to be updated as well (ahem computers), and how that meshes with the rest of canon.

Knife Children (2019) (Lois McMaster Bujold): Novella? Short novel? in the Sharing Knife world. Barr Foxbrush's youthful indiscretions catch up to him in the form of a fourteen year old daughter who has run off from her farmer family, under a cloud of suspicion, and possibly with her biological father's Lakewalker powers.

The Sharing Knife series, which foregrounds romance tropes, especially ones that are Not My Cuppa, has never been my favorite of Bujold's works. Knife Children is about the consequences of Barr's failure to keep it in his pants, in the context of two ethnic groups that neither understand nor trust each other, with a romance that happens 90% offscreen, and so does not drive me nuts in the same way. The difficulties of Lily's half-and-half status are Authorially Softened, making this more comfy than insightful.

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