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featheredturtle's reviews
18 reviews
To Kill a Kingdom by Alexandra Christo
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
1.0
If We Were Villains by M.L. Rio
dark
mysterious
reflective
tense
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
Exit Strategy by Martha Wells
adventurous
emotional
funny
hopeful
tense
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
5.0
Rogue Protocol by Martha Wells
Story—★★★★☆
The case against GrayCris (from All Systems Red) is running into trouble: they really, really want Dr. Mensah’s rogue SecUnit AKA one Murderbot. Murderbot wants to find enough evidence to redirect the spotlight back to GrayCris. (And to support Dr. Mensah, because darn, is it caring? Maybe.) With these goals in mind, Murderbot heads to Milu, the site of an abandoned terraforming facility, which GrayCris may have used as a cover for its real operation: recovering alien artifacts. (Again.) Upon arrival, Murderbot discovers a small research team, including the cheerful and innocent human-form bot Miki, is heading down to inspect the facility. Since they’re headed in the same direction, it wouldn’t hurt if it kept an eye out on them, right?
adventurous
emotional
funny
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.5
The Good
– Murderbot at its best and most sarcastic
– Strong supporting cast
– Miki as a A+ Murderbot foil
– Fast-paced, straightforward story
– Readable, accessible, fitting writing style
– Creative combat
– Murderbot at its best and most sarcastic
– Strong supporting cast
– Miki as a A+ Murderbot foil
– Fast-paced, straightforward story
– Readable, accessible, fitting writing style
– Creative combat
The Bad
– Beginning is a biiiit slow
– … that’s it?
– Beginning is a biiiit slow
– … that’s it?
I had to withdraw back to my dark cubicle. I was having an emotion again.
Story—★★★★☆
The case against GrayCris (from All Systems Red) is running into trouble: they really, really want Dr. Mensah’s rogue SecUnit AKA one Murderbot. Murderbot wants to find enough evidence to redirect the spotlight back to GrayCris. (And to support Dr. Mensah, because darn, is it caring? Maybe.) With these goals in mind, Murderbot heads to Milu, the site of an abandoned terraforming facility, which GrayCris may have used as a cover for its real operation: recovering alien artifacts. (Again.) Upon arrival, Murderbot discovers a small research team, including the cheerful and innocent human-form bot Miki, is heading down to inspect the facility. Since they’re headed in the same direction, it wouldn’t hurt if it kept an eye out on them, right?
Of course, the little research team experiences some attempted murder, and Murderbot steps in to save them.
Like its predecessors, Rogue Protocol is a tidy little story that entertains and raises some ethical/existential/philosophical questions. It’s easy to follow (seriously, this one of the most accessible sci-fi series I’ve read), it’s enjoyable, there are a lot of ~sci-fi~ terms, but you don’t need to give a damn about them to follow the plot.
Rogue Protocol succeeds on multiple levels: it’s funny, it’s exciting (Murderbot gets to show off some of its more creative moves!), it’s going to give you an emotion. I feel like Wells ironed out some of the (very, very small) kinks in the first two novellas and produced a sort of perfect Murderbot experience in Rogue Protocol.
Murderbot is in a reversed situation from Artificial Condition: instead of the powerful, intelligent ART supporting it from the background it must work in tangent with the sweet, pet-like, not-at-all-prepared-for-danger-or-combat Miki. Miki, the human-form bot—all metal, no organic parts like Murderbot, pure AI—has only experienced kindness and friendship from humans. As such, Miki is an excellent foil character to Murderbot. (This is dipping into the character section, but it’s pretty core to the story and Murderbot’s experience therein.) Keeping the humans alive in their situation requires Murderbot, who’s been treated like a particularly dangerous piece of furniture all its life, to work in tandem with Miki, who’s been treated as nothing less than a precious, precious friend.
Characters—★★★★★ (4.5 Stars)
If one of my problems with All Systems Red was keeping track of the sheer number of supporting characters, and one of my problems with Artificial Condition was the smaller and weaker cast, then Rogue Protocol hits a glorious sweet spot: these characters are meaningful, impact the plot, and we can keep track of them.
If one of my problems with All Systems Red was keeping track of the sheer number of supporting characters, and one of my problems with Artificial Condition was the smaller and weaker cast, then Rogue Protocol hits a glorious sweet spot: these characters are meaningful, impact the plot, and we can keep track of them.
In Rogue Protocol, it’s easy to notice the tiers of characters we’re supposed to care about. (Murderbot is always first, obvs.) In All Systems Red, Murderbot specifically kept its human crew at arms-length: we struggled to care about most of the crew and it took a while for us to warm up to Dr. Mensah, All Systems Red‘s most prominent supporting character. In Artificial Condition, ART is the most prominent supporting character. ART’s easy to love, but it’s never in danger; it’s always in the background, safely out in space, helping Murderbot. Murderbot’s human clients, who are the ones in danger, are #1, overshadowed by ART’s personality and #2, appear less frequently. While ART and Murderbot’s clients contribute to raising questions about humanness and identity, their overall impact on the reader is less significant than it could be.
In Rogue Protocol, after Murderbot, we have Miki, and it’s boss/best friend Don Abene. Both are introduced fairly early and both are easy to care about. Miki is innocent, almost childish; it only has good intentions and only knows good intentions. Don Abene has treated it with kindness and respect, and treats Murderbot with much the same.
All of this gives Murderbot some emotions. When it travelled, it travelled in a box. When it worked with clients, it stayed in a box. On media programs, the SecUnits it sees are rogue, murderous SecUnits. The point of its existence is literally to place itself between the client and the source of harm, and by the way, it can still feel pain. If destroyed, the cheap company that owned it would scrap it for parts. Miki’s humans introduce Miki as an equal part of their team and ask if it might like to sit down? The contrast is clear, and Murderbot’s emotions and how it reacts to both Miki and Don Abene are core to both the story and its character in Rogue Protocol.
Writing Style—★★★★☆
Told in first person, past tense, Wells conveys Rogue Protocol in a conversational, accessible, and wry style, which suits Murderbot’s voice and personality perfectly. Murderbot is hilarious in Rogue Protocol. ART stole the show a bit in Artificial Condition, but here Murderbot’s glorious sarcastic asides shine.
Told in first person, past tense, Wells conveys Rogue Protocol in a conversational, accessible, and wry style, which suits Murderbot’s voice and personality perfectly. Murderbot is hilarious in Rogue Protocol. ART stole the show a bit in Artificial Condition, but here Murderbot’s glorious sarcastic asides shine.
Despite this, there are some occasional weak points—mostly some had hads. Which, given that Well’s skilled, “invisible” style is perfect otherwise, is starting to feel like a silly thing for which to knock points off.
Themes and Representation—★★★★☆
Rogue Protocol continues to touch on themes of and raise questions about humanity (and its many forms) and ownership of self-aware beings.
Rogue Protocol continues to touch on themes of and raise questions about humanity (and its many forms) and ownership of self-aware beings.
Don Abene, the most prominent human supporting character, is described as having warm brown skin and dark eyes; the names of three supporting characters suggest they’re of Japanese heritage, Nigerian heritage, and Cambodian heritage. (Hirune, Ejiro, and Vibol, respectfully.) Murderbot itself seems to be aromantic and asexual.
Overall—★★★★★ (4.5 Stars)
Recommended For…
Fans of Murderbot; fans of clever, smart sci-fi; those who want to have an emotion.
Fans of Murderbot; fans of clever, smart sci-fi; those who want to have an emotion.
House of Rougeaux by Jenny Jaeckel
A comforting and uplifting family saga, spanning from Martinique to Quebec to Philadelphia and back.
Story & Characters—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
The House of Rougeaux begins with Abeje, a young girl and a slave on a sugar cane plantation on Martinique and follows her throughout her life, and then jumps to various descendants through of the family (through the line of Abeje’s niece, Hetty/Ayo) in their times of strife, ranging in time from 1800s to 1960s.
emotional
hopeful
slow-paced
3.5
The Good
– Strong beginning and ending
– Graceful handling of sensitive topics
– No graphic descriptions
– Easy characterization
– Gentle, comforting read
– Effortless, readable prose
– Strong beginning and ending
– Graceful handling of sensitive topics
– No graphic descriptions
– Easy characterization
– Gentle, comforting read
– Effortless, readable prose
The Bad
– Some middle sections feel weak / disjointed
– Hard to feel attached to some characters
– Hard to keep track of the relations at times
– Some middle sections feel weak / disjointed
– Hard to feel attached to some characters
– Hard to keep track of the relations at times
(I received a copy of The House of Rougeaux in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to Black Rose Writing, and to Jenny Jaeckel for reaching out to me for this opportunity!)
A comforting and uplifting family saga, spanning from Martinique to Quebec to Philadelphia and back.
Story & Characters—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
The House of Rougeaux begins with Abeje, a young girl and a slave on a sugar cane plantation on Martinique and follows her throughout her life, and then jumps to various descendants through of the family (through the line of Abeje’s niece, Hetty/Ayo) in their times of strife, ranging in time from 1800s to 1960s.
With a family saga, there are varying sections centred around a different character in a different generation in a different year. The House of Rougeaux‘s strongest sections are Abeje’s beginning section, Guillaume’s near the end, and Eleanor’s at the very end. These were the most emotional and enjoyable to read about, I found. Abeje is an easy character for readers to root for: not only do we spend most of her life with her, but she is competent in her abilities and steadfast in her kindness. She faces tough choices, and choosing the harder and kinder choice usually benefits her.
The short section centring around best friends and cousins, Nelie and Azzie, was a smart choice to follow up the Abeje’s weighty section—readers aren’t yet in a place to wholly dedicate themselves to a new character in the same way yet.
Rosalie’s section takes place soon after; she is arguably of the tail end of the same generation as Nelie and Azzie. Set during the Vietnam war, Rosalie’s brother is drafted, and the family reconnects to their Rougeaux roots back in Montreal to find a solution. This is the only section I think would benefit from a different central character. Rosalie is perfectly fine as a character, but so much of the section revolves around Junior and his being drafted, it makes more sense to see his insight here.
Martine’s section is a bit of a bridge, easing us back into the past while still giving readers a concrete touchstone in the sections set later on, and bringing in the musical education passed down through Hetty. Her section has less impact on the reader, but ends on a satisfying note.
Although Hetty’s section ends on a fulfilling and uplifting note, I felt it was the only one that lacked focus and didn’t deliver to the degree it could. Hetty is a critical character to the Rougeaux line, and readers are eager to arrive at her section to learn what happens to her in Quebec. While we do learn of Hetty’s life and her trials and triumphs, her section lacks a focal theme and meanders until we arrive at the conclusion. Additionally, I unexpectedly found her personality less developed than some other central characters.
My favourite sections were the last two sections: Guillaume, Hetty’s son, and Eleanor, Guillaume’s daughter and Hetty’s granddaughter. They were the sections with the most focus and led by strongest written characters after Abeje. Guillaume’s section was really sweet and uplifting, and I enjoyed both the comfort he found in his sister and watching his relationship with Hathaway blossom. I don’t want to say too much and spoil Eleanor’s section, but as the end of both her section and the novel, it brought the saga to a beautiful and satisfying close.
Given the span of the Rougeaux line, I found it hard to keep track of the relationships between characters. Jaeckel does a good job of establishing the individual casts and relationships surrounding each character at the beginning of a new section, but keeping track of how each main character specifically related to the others was sometimes a struggle.
Overall, I found the House of Rougeaux to be a gentle, comforting read. The highs and lows the characters live through feel like a natural part of life, rather than emotional manipulation, and the comfort and support of family and community are always nearby.
Jaeckel does a standout job with her settings, both in terms of historical details, and descriptions of nature, descriptions of settings both large and small, and emotional descriptions. I really appreciated attention to certain details, like the family’s saddlery and the little bits about the leather trade in Guillaume’s travels.
Writing Style—★★★★☆ (4.5 Stars)
Jaeckel wrote The House of Rougeaux in third person, past tense, from seven different characters’ (one per section) points of view.
Jaeckel wrote The House of Rougeaux in third person, past tense, from seven different characters’ (one per section) points of view.
Jaeckel has a really lovely writing style, a solid blend of form and function. It’s well-developed and graceful while remaining readable.
Themes and Representation—★★★★☆
The House of Rougeaux revolves around themes of family and interconnectedness. As a generational saga, family is first and foremost; whenever someone needs help, or comfort, or guidance, there is someone—near or far—in the (extended) family to assist. Sometimes they can only stay by their side awhile, and sometimes they assist by way of dream or memory, but they’re always there.
The House of Rougeaux revolves around themes of family and interconnectedness. As a generational saga, family is first and foremost; whenever someone needs help, or comfort, or guidance, there is someone—near or far—in the (extended) family to assist. Sometimes they can only stay by their side awhile, and sometimes they assist by way of dream or memory, but they’re always there.
There was also an overwhelming sense of interconnectedness, established early on with Abeje’s particular connections, and mirrored throughout the novel.
In terms of representation, the entire family is Black, and Guillaume is gay. There are heavy and triggering topics brought up, but these are handled with grace and not embellished upon simply for the sake of suffering.
Overall—★★★★☆ (3.75 Stars)
Recommended For…
Fans of family sagas; readers looking to enjoy quality writing; readers in search of a comforting read.
Fans of family sagas; readers looking to enjoy quality writing; readers in search of a comforting read.
Pyotra and the Wolf by Elna Holst
reflective
slow-paced
3.25
<strong>A very, very, very, <em>very</em> steamy sapphic retelling of <em>Peter and the Wolf</em>, with an odd second half.</strong>
<strong>The Good</strong>
– Sympathetic lead
– Descriptive, lyrical prose
– Strong opening chapters
– Nenets / Siberian Indigenous rep
– Lots of steamy sex scenes
– Strong characterization
– Strong setting descriptions
<strong>
The Bad</strong>
– <em>Lots</em> of reiterating
– Slow first section
– Uneven pacing
– Second half feels completely different from first
<em>(I received an advanced copy of <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56645899-pyotra-and-the-wolf">Pyotra and the Wolf</a> in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to Elna Holst and NineStar Press for this opportunity!)</em>
<strong>Story</strong>—★★☆☆☆ (2.5 Stars)
Wolves orphaned Pyotra. First, a pack of wolves killed her mother. Then, her father drank himself to death in his grief, leaving Pyotra to raise her young brother and care for her blind, ageing grandfather alone. When she finds Sergei in the jaws of a wolf, Pyotra decides the wolf must die, even if it saved her brother. A wolf who’s tasted human blood cannot be left alive. So, Pyotra sets out, trailing the strange wolf through frigid weather toward the tundra.
The first few chapters establishing Pyotra’s situation and launching her on the wolf’s trail are rock solid. However, the next section drags. Pyotra and Volk (the wolf), only have fleeting interactions as they travel, and Volk doesn’t talk for most of them, which means we spend a lot of time alone with one or the other and their inner monologue. It’s a lot of thinking about how fantastic the other one smells or how unusual she is. Then they meet, realize Pyotra has left a potential crisis at home, head back, fall in love very fast, and then the plot changes entirely. Now there's a kidnapping and a creepy billionaire. Logically, the complication makes sense, and I enjoyed the upping of the stakes. But the switch from sapphic werewolf sex to an unhinged rich guy and his flaccid member is, uh, <em>jarring</em>.
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> is tonally confusing in this way. Although Holst hits all the right plot beats at the right times, and both the intense romance and the creepy billionaire parts are written well as their own individual elements, the target audience for each does not seem to have much overlap. The person who picks up a steamy sapphic werewolf romance is unlikely to want to a glimpse into Oleg's sad, deranged mind, and vice versa.
My biggest frustration is one that crops up in books the most often: rehashing the obvious. Characters will frequently reflect on a scene or chapter, and well, unless the book in question is a big ol' SFF epic, there's no <em>reason</em>. It does not advance the plot or characters. It devalues the other lines because we do not know which lines are useful to the story, and therefore meaningful to us as readers.
Holst does a top-notch job with the Siberian setting. It's well-established and undeniably <em>Russian</em>. Descriptions for individual settings were also fantastic: Holst's attention to oft-overlooked senses like scent and temperature bring scenes to life.
<strong>Characters</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
Pyotra is easy to like from early on: the combination of her hardships, her kindness, and her initiative makes her a sympathetic character who gets things done. (I found her particularly relatable when I read, <em>"[She] had lived with a droning terror at the back of her mind, which she hadn't any better name for than Things Could Happen."</em> Holy <em>shit</em>, that is my primary emotion these days.)
Volk is a solitary wolf who's become something of a wolf-hermit since she lost her wolf-wife. She is unflinching and socially abrasive, someone who longed to be wolf instead of woman, and looked forward to her turning.
Pyotra and Volk have a sort of “instalove” romance. From the start, they each stand out and feel a magnetic draw to the other. Now, instalove romance is a very YMMV (Your Mileage May Vary) thing. If you enjoy fast connections in romance, there’s lots of steamy scenes, cuddling, and emotionally intimate moments very early between these two, so you’ll have plenty to enjoy. Volk is rather <em>wolfy</em> for several sexual encounters, which varied these scenes from "wolf gf with extra sharp teeth" hot to "okay, is that a wolf tongue doing that?" uhhh, weird.
Unfortunately, this quick connection means Pyotra sets aside her reservations about wolves early on, and there isn't much conflict or character growth for either Pyotra or Volk. They have a few conversations while travelling, but there are no problems chafing between them, nor internal issues to wrestle with.
I immensely enjoyed how well Holst characterizes <em>Pyotra</em>'s cast of characters: every single character, role big or small, feels not only like a real person, but a person I could pick out from a crowd. From Mariya Leonova, the general store owner, to Sergei, Pyotra's little brother, Holst establishes characters quickly and writes each with a distinct sense of self. I found myself protective over happy outcomes for most of the supporting cast after only knowing them briefly.
<strong>Writing Style</strong>—★★★★☆
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> is written in third person, past tense, with chapters alternating between Pyotra and "The Wolf" for the first half, and incorporating the points of view of multiple supporting characters in the second half.
Holst has really lovely, lyrical prose which, combined with her attention to detail and broad vocabulary, tickles readers' senses and brings a vividness to scenes. The biting snow of the tundra, a lover's muskiness, the smoky air in a cabin come to the reader with ease. My only complaint is that sometimes the loveliness wins over how generally readable a paragraph or two are.
<strong>Themes and Representation</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> touches on themes of overcoming prejudice and the complications of one unfortunate thing happening so another, better thing can happen.
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> has sapphic (likely specifically lesbian) representation in Pyotra and Volk, gay representation in two supporting characters, and Siberian Indigenous representation (specifically Nenets) in Volk and a supporting character.
<strong>Overall</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
<strong>Recommended For...</strong>
Fans of werewolf girlfriends; fans of steamy romances; fans of mate romances; fans of instalove romance; fans of underrepresented retellings.
<a href="https://featheredturtlepress.wordpress.com/"><strong>>>More book reviews at Feathered Turtle Press<<</strong></a>
<strong>The Good</strong>
– Sympathetic lead
– Descriptive, lyrical prose
– Strong opening chapters
– Nenets / Siberian Indigenous rep
– Lots of steamy sex scenes
– Strong characterization
– Strong setting descriptions
<strong>
The Bad</strong>
– <em>Lots</em> of reiterating
– Slow first section
– Uneven pacing
– Second half feels completely different from first
<em>(I received an advanced copy of <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56645899-pyotra-and-the-wolf">Pyotra and the Wolf</a> in exchange for an honest review. Thank you to Elna Holst and NineStar Press for this opportunity!)</em>
<strong>Story</strong>—★★☆☆☆ (2.5 Stars)
Wolves orphaned Pyotra. First, a pack of wolves killed her mother. Then, her father drank himself to death in his grief, leaving Pyotra to raise her young brother and care for her blind, ageing grandfather alone. When she finds Sergei in the jaws of a wolf, Pyotra decides the wolf must die, even if it saved her brother. A wolf who’s tasted human blood cannot be left alive. So, Pyotra sets out, trailing the strange wolf through frigid weather toward the tundra.
The first few chapters establishing Pyotra’s situation and launching her on the wolf’s trail are rock solid. However, the next section drags. Pyotra and Volk (the wolf), only have fleeting interactions as they travel, and Volk doesn’t talk for most of them, which means we spend a lot of time alone with one or the other and their inner monologue. It’s a lot of thinking about how fantastic the other one smells or how unusual she is. Then they meet, realize Pyotra has left a potential crisis at home, head back, fall in love very fast, and then the plot changes entirely. Now there's a kidnapping and a creepy billionaire. Logically, the complication makes sense, and I enjoyed the upping of the stakes. But the switch from sapphic werewolf sex to an unhinged rich guy and his flaccid member is, uh, <em>jarring</em>.
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> is tonally confusing in this way. Although Holst hits all the right plot beats at the right times, and both the intense romance and the creepy billionaire parts are written well as their own individual elements, the target audience for each does not seem to have much overlap. The person who picks up a steamy sapphic werewolf romance is unlikely to want to a glimpse into Oleg's sad, deranged mind, and vice versa.
My biggest frustration is one that crops up in books the most often: rehashing the obvious. Characters will frequently reflect on a scene or chapter, and well, unless the book in question is a big ol' SFF epic, there's no <em>reason</em>. It does not advance the plot or characters. It devalues the other lines because we do not know which lines are useful to the story, and therefore meaningful to us as readers.
Holst does a top-notch job with the Siberian setting. It's well-established and undeniably <em>Russian</em>. Descriptions for individual settings were also fantastic: Holst's attention to oft-overlooked senses like scent and temperature bring scenes to life.
<strong>Characters</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
Pyotra is easy to like from early on: the combination of her hardships, her kindness, and her initiative makes her a sympathetic character who gets things done. (I found her particularly relatable when I read, <em>"[She] had lived with a droning terror at the back of her mind, which she hadn't any better name for than Things Could Happen."</em> Holy <em>shit</em>, that is my primary emotion these days.)
Volk is a solitary wolf who's become something of a wolf-hermit since she lost her wolf-wife. She is unflinching and socially abrasive, someone who longed to be wolf instead of woman, and looked forward to her turning.
Pyotra and Volk have a sort of “instalove” romance. From the start, they each stand out and feel a magnetic draw to the other. Now, instalove romance is a very YMMV (Your Mileage May Vary) thing. If you enjoy fast connections in romance, there’s lots of steamy scenes, cuddling, and emotionally intimate moments very early between these two, so you’ll have plenty to enjoy. Volk is rather <em>wolfy</em> for several sexual encounters, which varied these scenes from "wolf gf with extra sharp teeth" hot to "okay, is that a wolf tongue doing that?" uhhh, weird.
Unfortunately, this quick connection means Pyotra sets aside her reservations about wolves early on, and there isn't much conflict or character growth for either Pyotra or Volk. They have a few conversations while travelling, but there are no problems chafing between them, nor internal issues to wrestle with.
I immensely enjoyed how well Holst characterizes <em>Pyotra</em>'s cast of characters: every single character, role big or small, feels not only like a real person, but a person I could pick out from a crowd. From Mariya Leonova, the general store owner, to Sergei, Pyotra's little brother, Holst establishes characters quickly and writes each with a distinct sense of self. I found myself protective over happy outcomes for most of the supporting cast after only knowing them briefly.
<strong>Writing Style</strong>—★★★★☆
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> is written in third person, past tense, with chapters alternating between Pyotra and "The Wolf" for the first half, and incorporating the points of view of multiple supporting characters in the second half.
Holst has really lovely, lyrical prose which, combined with her attention to detail and broad vocabulary, tickles readers' senses and brings a vividness to scenes. The biting snow of the tundra, a lover's muskiness, the smoky air in a cabin come to the reader with ease. My only complaint is that sometimes the loveliness wins over how generally readable a paragraph or two are.
<strong>Themes and Representation</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> touches on themes of overcoming prejudice and the complications of one unfortunate thing happening so another, better thing can happen.
<em>Pyotra and the Wolf</em> has sapphic (likely specifically lesbian) representation in Pyotra and Volk, gay representation in two supporting characters, and Siberian Indigenous representation (specifically Nenets) in Volk and a supporting character.
<strong>Overall</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
<strong>Recommended For...</strong>
Fans of werewolf girlfriends; fans of steamy romances; fans of mate romances; fans of instalove romance; fans of underrepresented retellings.
<a href="https://featheredturtlepress.wordpress.com/"><strong>>>More book reviews at Feathered Turtle Press<<</strong></a>
Artificial Condition by Martha Wells
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
<strong><em>Artificial Condition</em> is all the fun of the <a href="https://featheredturtlepress.wordpress.com/2020/07/22/review-all-systems-red-the-murderbot-diaries-1-by-martha-wells/">first book</a>, but with (for better or worse) a smaller supporting cast.</strong>
<strong>The Good</strong>
– Murderbot is, as always, a delight
– ART is hilarious
– Raises questions about what humanness <em>looks</em> like
– Quick, straightforward, easy-to-digest story
<strong>The Bad</strong>
– Less of a compulsive read than <em>All Systems Red</em>
– Less tension/conflict
– Weaker supporting character
<strong>Story</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
Despite Dr. Mensah's offer at the end of <em>All Systems Red</em>, Murderbot chose to head out on its own. In <em>Artificial Condition</em>, Murderbot is back and hoping to find answers to why it killed the 57 humans it was charged with protecting during a mining operation. (Also known as<em> all the murder that one time.</em>) Teaming up with a research transport with a surprisingly expansive AI, Murderbot takes on (human) clients in order to get the permit it needs to travel to the RaviHyral Mining Facility without suspicion. Unfortunately, work as a SecUnit and work as a freelance (perceived) human security consultant are <em>very</em> different things.
Like <em>All Systems Red</em>, <em>Artificial Condition</em> is an accessible Sci-Fi novella that carries a good dose of humour and existential questions for its size. It's easy to follow, it's largely enjoyable, there are a lot of ~sci-fi~ terms, but you don't need to really give a damn about them to follow the plot.
I found <em>Artificial Condition</em> lacks a certain amount of tension and conflict that was present in the first book. Unlike <em>All Systems Red</em>, which I loathed to set down, I <em>can</em> set <em>Artificial Condition</em> down. There are less burning questions, no hovering fear for the discovery of Murderbot's free will, no real surprises, and the visit to Ganaka Pit doesn't hit as hard as it could. It was still fun, but I don't want to go around and tell everyone I know about it.
<strong>Characters</strong>—★★★☆☆
One of my complaints with <em>All Systems Red</em> was the sometimes overwhelming number of supporting characters. Here, the cast is drastically pared down, but they don't always deliver to the same degree the cast in the first book did.
ART (Asshole Research Transport) is funny. It's much more logical and sometimes even downright cold compared to Murderbot. It serves as a great way to compare and contrast how "human" Murderbot is, but sometimes its role as "funny plot device" is obvious.
Although <em>Artificial Condition</em> sees fewer humans under Murderbot's protection, their roles feel scattered and weakened. In <em>All Systems Red</em>, Dr. Mensah has strong purpose and presence, both established early on when she checks on a wounded Murderbot in its cubicle. <em>Artificial Condition</em> sort of switches which human it focuses on, beginning with Rami, the unofficial leader of Murderbot's clients, and changing focus to Tapan near the end. Without that focus, we wind up with Murderbot alone in its head or snarking with the funny plot device.
<strong>Writing Style</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5)
Told in first person, past tense, Wells conveys <em>Artificial Condition</em> in a conversational, accessible and wry style, which suits Murderbot's voice and personality perfectly.
Despite this, there are some occasional weak points an established author should’ve eliminated from their prose by now—namely a surprising number of <em>had had</em>s.
<strong>Themes and Representation</strong>—★★★★☆
Reinforces themes from All Systems Red on the ethics and morality of ownership of self-aware beings; examines elements of free will; raises questions about one's own humanity, and what it means to be human—Is Murderbot very different from a heavily augmented human? In which ways? How do those ways matter to itself, other bots/constructs, and humans?
The primary supporting cast were browned-skinned characters of colour (unspecified race and ethnicity) and one used neopronouns (te/ter.)
<strong>Overall</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.75 Stars)
<strong>Recommended For...</strong>
Fans of Murderbot; readers who want a quick, enjoyable read with a delightful main character.
<strong>The Good</strong>
– Murderbot is, as always, a delight
– ART is hilarious
– Raises questions about what humanness <em>looks</em> like
– Quick, straightforward, easy-to-digest story
<strong>The Bad</strong>
– Less of a compulsive read than <em>All Systems Red</em>
– Less tension/conflict
– Weaker supporting character
<strong>Story</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5 Stars)
Despite Dr. Mensah's offer at the end of <em>All Systems Red</em>, Murderbot chose to head out on its own. In <em>Artificial Condition</em>, Murderbot is back and hoping to find answers to why it killed the 57 humans it was charged with protecting during a mining operation. (Also known as<em> all the murder that one time.</em>) Teaming up with a research transport with a surprisingly expansive AI, Murderbot takes on (human) clients in order to get the permit it needs to travel to the RaviHyral Mining Facility without suspicion. Unfortunately, work as a SecUnit and work as a freelance (perceived) human security consultant are <em>very</em> different things.
Like <em>All Systems Red</em>, <em>Artificial Condition</em> is an accessible Sci-Fi novella that carries a good dose of humour and existential questions for its size. It's easy to follow, it's largely enjoyable, there are a lot of ~sci-fi~ terms, but you don't need to really give a damn about them to follow the plot.
I found <em>Artificial Condition</em> lacks a certain amount of tension and conflict that was present in the first book. Unlike <em>All Systems Red</em>, which I loathed to set down, I <em>can</em> set <em>Artificial Condition</em> down. There are less burning questions, no hovering fear for the discovery of Murderbot's free will, no real surprises, and the visit to Ganaka Pit doesn't hit as hard as it could. It was still fun, but I don't want to go around and tell everyone I know about it.
<strong>Characters</strong>—★★★☆☆
One of my complaints with <em>All Systems Red</em> was the sometimes overwhelming number of supporting characters. Here, the cast is drastically pared down, but they don't always deliver to the same degree the cast in the first book did.
ART (Asshole Research Transport) is funny. It's much more logical and sometimes even downright cold compared to Murderbot. It serves as a great way to compare and contrast how "human" Murderbot is, but sometimes its role as "funny plot device" is obvious.
Although <em>Artificial Condition</em> sees fewer humans under Murderbot's protection, their roles feel scattered and weakened. In <em>All Systems Red</em>, Dr. Mensah has strong purpose and presence, both established early on when she checks on a wounded Murderbot in its cubicle. <em>Artificial Condition</em> sort of switches which human it focuses on, beginning with Rami, the unofficial leader of Murderbot's clients, and changing focus to Tapan near the end. Without that focus, we wind up with Murderbot alone in its head or snarking with the funny plot device.
<strong>Writing Style</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.5)
Told in first person, past tense, Wells conveys <em>Artificial Condition</em> in a conversational, accessible and wry style, which suits Murderbot's voice and personality perfectly.
Despite this, there are some occasional weak points an established author should’ve eliminated from their prose by now—namely a surprising number of <em>had had</em>s.
<strong>Themes and Representation</strong>—★★★★☆
Reinforces themes from All Systems Red on the ethics and morality of ownership of self-aware beings; examines elements of free will; raises questions about one's own humanity, and what it means to be human—Is Murderbot very different from a heavily augmented human? In which ways? How do those ways matter to itself, other bots/constructs, and humans?
The primary supporting cast were browned-skinned characters of colour (unspecified race and ethnicity) and one used neopronouns (te/ter.)
<strong>Overall</strong>—★★★★☆ (3.75 Stars)
<strong>Recommended For...</strong>
Fans of Murderbot; readers who want a quick, enjoyable read with a delightful main character.
The Mysterious Study of Doctor Sex by Tamsyn Muir
funny
mysterious
medium-paced
4.5
Boy, you sure get some weird looks when you say The Mysterious Study of Doctor Sex is your latest read.
Doctor Sex is a novelette in Muir's The Locked Tomb universe; you can safely read it after you've read Gideon without threatening your experience with Harrow. Although Muir's comedic and mystery writing here stands on its own, you really do need to read Gideon to have the faintest clue of the somewhat-bonkers Locked Tomb world or otherwise be very, very chill with a bunch of shit you don't know as the backdrop.
Set seven years prior to the start of Gideon the Ninth, The Mysterious Doctor Sex narrows in on the Sixth House when Camilla and Palamedes are thirteen-years-old and the study of dead-for-four-hundred-years-and-change Donald Sex (in its relation to the number six, as in the Sixth House) finally opens. To the bafflement of all, despite its shuttering for the past four hundred-odd years, a pair of hands—dead, skeleton hands—rests on his desk, bizarrely dyed orange and dated only two hundred years in age.
Doctor Sex was an enjoyable read, both on its own and as a part of The Locked Tomb universe. There's a tidy and smart nugget of a mystery, some patented Muir humour, and a little more love for Camilla, Palamedes, and by extension, the Lyctors, and even Dulcinea. It's exactly what it's supposed to be and near-perfectly presented, with Muir sneaking a little surprise in, even at the very end.
Muir writes Doctor Sex from Camilla's point of view, in first person, past tense. I have mixed feelings on the Muir's writing in Doctor Sex. She's a superb storyteller and a master of words, conveying Doctor Sex with both clarity and humour, and represents Camilla perfectly with a sober and straightforward voice. But without the "flair" of Gideon's voice, the faults in the building blocks of her prose are prominent. The overuse of makes, hads/had beens and to bes stand out, ugly and awkward—although the slips into second person here are easier to digest from the first person perspective.
Overall, Doctor Sex is great if you want more Sixth House or Camilla/Palamedes background or if you, like me, will happily chow down on any scrap more of The Locked Tomb you can get your sad, grabby hands on.
Doctor Sex is a novelette in Muir's The Locked Tomb universe; you can safely read it after you've read Gideon without threatening your experience with Harrow. Although Muir's comedic and mystery writing here stands on its own, you really do need to read Gideon to have the faintest clue of the somewhat-bonkers Locked Tomb world or otherwise be very, very chill with a bunch of shit you don't know as the backdrop.
Set seven years prior to the start of Gideon the Ninth, The Mysterious Doctor Sex narrows in on the Sixth House when Camilla and Palamedes are thirteen-years-old and the study of dead-for-four-hundred-years-and-change Donald Sex (in its relation to the number six, as in the Sixth House) finally opens. To the bafflement of all, despite its shuttering for the past four hundred-odd years, a pair of hands—dead, skeleton hands—rests on his desk, bizarrely dyed orange and dated only two hundred years in age.
Doctor Sex was an enjoyable read, both on its own and as a part of The Locked Tomb universe. There's a tidy and smart nugget of a mystery, some patented Muir humour, and a little more love for Camilla, Palamedes, and by extension, the Lyctors, and even Dulcinea. It's exactly what it's supposed to be and near-perfectly presented, with Muir sneaking a little surprise in, even at the very end.
Muir writes Doctor Sex from Camilla's point of view, in first person, past tense. I have mixed feelings on the Muir's writing in Doctor Sex. She's a superb storyteller and a master of words, conveying Doctor Sex with both clarity and humour, and represents Camilla perfectly with a sober and straightforward voice. But without the "flair" of Gideon's voice, the faults in the building blocks of her prose are prominent. The overuse of makes, hads/had beens and to bes stand out, ugly and awkward—although the slips into second person here are easier to digest from the first person perspective.
Overall, Doctor Sex is great if you want more Sixth House or Camilla/Palamedes background or if you, like me, will happily chow down on any scrap more of The Locked Tomb you can get your sad, grabby hands on.
Content Warnings
Minor warning for claustrophobia/tight spaces.
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