Take a photo of a barcode or cover
shilohskye's reviews
53 reviews
God of Clay by Ryan Campbell
5.0
I enjoyed the book wholeheartedly, and as a gay man myself it actually gave me some nice introspection on myself and my relationship with my boyfriend.
Gay relationships often have one person who is more assertive and brash, and one person who is more shy and submissive, this book, from a certain point of view, kind of serves as a sort of allegory for that. For me, it seemed to explore the dynamic rather well, including showing how two extremely different people can fall in love.
There is a gay sex scene that's rather elaborate (and allergy-inducing), but frankly in a world where Game of Thrones is one of the most popular things ever, that's a silly thing to complain about, so if you're straight don't let that alienate you.
Regardless, I can't wait to read the sequels.
Gay relationships often have one person who is more assertive and brash, and one person who is more shy and submissive, this book, from a certain point of view, kind of serves as a sort of allegory for that. For me, it seemed to explore the dynamic rather well, including showing how two extremely different people can fall in love.
There is a gay sex scene that's rather elaborate (and allergy-inducing), but frankly in a world where Game of Thrones is one of the most popular things ever, that's a silly thing to complain about, so if you're straight don't let that alienate you.
Regardless, I can't wait to read the sequels.
Forest Gods by Ryan Campbell
5.0
Sometimes a book about gay characters doesn't center the conflict around the fact that the characters are gay. That would be too on-the-nose. It instead runs the book's conflicts parallel to that gay representation. The themes then bloom into something more expansive within the subtext, oftentimes becoming more meaningful and complex within that unspoken realm. That effect is dramatically enhanced if the reader is gay. For me, that is the beauty of this book. It handles gay subtext and themes fantastically.
The group of themes in The Forest Gods are ones that register strongly, and in a unique way, for gay audiences: The political, social, and religious hysteria of a community, the obliteration/disarray of familial bonds, the fear and misery of upsetting the person you love, the agony of leaving sanctuary and making yourself vulnerable, the difficulty in resisting the urge to fight back against what's hurt you, and the temptation to suppress oneself out of the fear you may be wrong...all of these themes explode into something entirely more complex when running parallel to gay characters. They will no doubt register deeply with gay readers.
The Forest Gods contains a nearly-overwhelming amount of conflict that brings out all of these themes splendidly. Things go very, very wrong in this book, with nary an exception. The warm and romantic feeling you may have gotten from the first book will be imprisoned in a volcano until further notice. Instead we get a struggle with the tragically inescapable outside forces that threaten to ruin the most remarkable and beautiful thing that's ever happened to the titular characters. Some level of hope in the face of that struggle only comes from (and I kid you not) the final word in the story, and even that final word bears its own uncertainties.
But this also makes the book all the more engaging. I myself couldn't help but read it through nonstop in a single day. Which, in retrospect, probably wasn't a great idea because it stressed me out immensely. But if you have resistance to literature-induced existential crisis' fueled by sexuality, then by all means go for the binge.
As a side note, this book will no doubt register deeply with readers who are in gay relationships. I can't imagine the book having the same depth of impact if I wasn't in a serious one myself. There is an authenticity to Doto and Clay's relationship that goes deep. Aspects of their joint struggles will be instantly recognizable to gay couples. You can tell that the author knows the territory, and the themes that come with a real relationship.
I could go on for pages. Needless to say, it's an incredible read, and extremely impactful if you happen to be gay. Even moreso if you're in a gay relationship. And even moreso if you're a furry. My mind keeps coming back to it weeks later. I need some time to mentally digest what I've read here, but afterward I'm very excited to read the final book. I'm only a few chapters in.
Hopefully my review adequately expresses my praise for this book. The author deserves a feather.
The group of themes in The Forest Gods are ones that register strongly, and in a unique way, for gay audiences: The political, social, and religious hysteria of a community, the obliteration/disarray of familial bonds, the fear and misery of upsetting the person you love, the agony of leaving sanctuary and making yourself vulnerable, the difficulty in resisting the urge to fight back against what's hurt you, and the temptation to suppress oneself out of the fear you may be wrong...all of these themes explode into something entirely more complex when running parallel to gay characters. They will no doubt register deeply with gay readers.
The Forest Gods contains a nearly-overwhelming amount of conflict that brings out all of these themes splendidly. Things go very, very wrong in this book, with nary an exception. The warm and romantic feeling you may have gotten from the first book will be imprisoned in a volcano until further notice. Instead we get a struggle with the tragically inescapable outside forces that threaten to ruin the most remarkable and beautiful thing that's ever happened to the titular characters. Some level of hope in the face of that struggle only comes from (and I kid you not) the final word in the story, and even that final word bears its own uncertainties.
But this also makes the book all the more engaging. I myself couldn't help but read it through nonstop in a single day. Which, in retrospect, probably wasn't a great idea because it stressed me out immensely. But if you have resistance to literature-induced existential crisis' fueled by sexuality, then by all means go for the binge.
As a side note, this book will no doubt register deeply with readers who are in gay relationships. I can't imagine the book having the same depth of impact if I wasn't in a serious one myself. There is an authenticity to Doto and Clay's relationship that goes deep. Aspects of their joint struggles will be instantly recognizable to gay couples. You can tell that the author knows the territory, and the themes that come with a real relationship.
I could go on for pages. Needless to say, it's an incredible read, and extremely impactful if you happen to be gay. Even moreso if you're in a gay relationship. And even moreso if you're a furry. My mind keeps coming back to it weeks later. I need some time to mentally digest what I've read here, but afterward I'm very excited to read the final book. I'm only a few chapters in.
Hopefully my review adequately expresses my praise for this book. The author deserves a feather.
The Reclamation Project - Year One by James L. Steele, Graveyard Greg
5.0
It's relatively rare to see a post-apocalypse in which things kinda sorta worked out. There are still a plethora of problems in the world of Reclamation Project. More than you'd expect from a solarpunk book. Pirates, evil organizations, killer robots, ominous floating coins, etc, but things seem to be heading in a decent direction with a harmony between nature and technology, and that makes for a very unique setting. Especially when anthropomorphic animals are running around everywhere.
I haven't read a shared-world short story compilation before, and it was a joy seeing all of these authors develop this world side by side. Each story brought something new to the worldbuilding, and none of them really clashed with each other.
Altogether it was a pretty enjoyable read with a very intriguing world to explore.
---
This book has a wide range of story tones and structures, so different readers will have different experiences, but to close out the review here are a few that really struck a chord with me:
The first story, Piece of Mind by John R. Robey, who also edited the book, is a great way to start things off. It indirectly introduces the world very nicely, and in particular it establishes the level of borderline-magic technology this sci-fi world has, which is very important context to have for the rest of the stories.
The first standout story for me though was Dark Garden Lake by Kayode Lycaon, which has, in my opinion, the most interesting protagonist in the book. Brooding assassins are done to death, but Moshi's got a vulnerability to him that really works.
The Flavors of Sunlight by James L. Steele made me drop the book, run my hands through my hair and say "oh, that was a good story" out loud. I will say nothing about this one here. You just gotta experience it.
A Journey to the Skies by Ferric the Bird is another hit, with my favorite premise in the book. Unexpectedly, it also had a moment of unseen horror that made me read a page over a few times. Heartbreaking stuff.
Chromium Manuevers by Matt Trepal closes things out nicely, with a great ending line that reminds us this is an ongoing, evolving world. But more importantly it did a good job of exploring the culture of the Furry Development of Ambara Down.
I haven't read a shared-world short story compilation before, and it was a joy seeing all of these authors develop this world side by side. Each story brought something new to the worldbuilding, and none of them really clashed with each other.
Altogether it was a pretty enjoyable read with a very intriguing world to explore.
---
This book has a wide range of story tones and structures, so different readers will have different experiences, but to close out the review here are a few that really struck a chord with me:
The first story, Piece of Mind by John R. Robey, who also edited the book, is a great way to start things off. It indirectly introduces the world very nicely, and in particular it establishes the level of borderline-magic technology this sci-fi world has, which is very important context to have for the rest of the stories.
The first standout story for me though was Dark Garden Lake by Kayode Lycaon, which has, in my opinion, the most interesting protagonist in the book. Brooding assassins are done to death, but Moshi's got a vulnerability to him that really works.
The Flavors of Sunlight by James L. Steele made me drop the book, run my hands through my hair and say "oh, that was a good story" out loud. I will say nothing about this one here. You just gotta experience it.
A Journey to the Skies by Ferric the Bird is another hit, with my favorite premise in the book. Unexpectedly, it also had a moment of unseen horror that made me read a page over a few times. Heartbreaking stuff.
Chromium Manuevers by Matt Trepal closes things out nicely, with a great ending line that reminds us this is an ongoing, evolving world. But more importantly it did a good job of exploring the culture of the Furry Development of Ambara Down.
God of Fire by Ryan Campbell
5.0
I'll have you know, I finished this book series last night, and I only cried for 20 minutes.
As I said in my overly dramatic review of The Forest Gods, the gay subtext in these books hits hard. God of Fire takes that to another level, and even had the time to introduce new themes and messages to make things all the more impactful. But unlike The Forest Gods, this is the last book in the series. Things actually get wrapped up this time, and there's closure to be had. That helps somewhat with the emotional anxiety these books seem intent on ravaging me with.
Doto and Clay are such a shockingly relatable couple at this point in their journey, that it makes what they go through in this book all the more crushing. There's a maturity to how their relationship is depicted that I think only people in committed relationships will truly resonate with. That, for me, was the star attraction of this book. The graduation from a young, tumultuous love to grown-up, tumultuous commitment here is stellar. I cannot stress that enough. Their relationship really has evolved brilliantly over the course of the trilogy.
The use of subplots to commentate on religious and societal faults and fallacies is also a highlight. Cloud's journey to Bogana, and Mirage's struggle with his past actions may seem unnecessarilly long to some, but I found them very effective at portraying the stakes of the disorder amongst the gods, and in representing the extreme danger that absolute certainty in one's faith and prejudices can bring. Plus you can't really have a story with heavy gay subtext without also including how downright unstable and threatening much of human society is.
I'd also like to point out how hard Zhivago went on the art for this book. The cover, first of all, is absolutely gorgeous. The best in the series, in my opinion. But there are a few images in the book itself that I desperately want prints for. The image of Clay and Doto just chilling in their sanctuary was especially beautiful. The one of Doto and Clay in the swamp gave me oh so many feelings.
But what really got me about this book was the fragility of everything bright and beautiful in it. And more importantly, how that relates to the real world. Let's face it, a lot of the things that allow Doto and Clay's relationship to survive, and a lot of the things that allow the people of the Savannah to survive, come down to the absolute wire. There are so many points at which everything good could have fallen completely apart in this story. That makes it all the more heartwrenching. In the real world, high stakes situations don't work out like this. The Dotos and Clays of our world burn. The people of the Savannah in our world are sacrificed. So, this book sort of makes real life feel incredibly tragic to me. It's unrealistic. Idealistic. And that may be a criticism for many. But I think it's what makes stories like this important and effective. They highlight things in the real world that crush good stories and happy endings. This book says "look how good our story could be if we just accepted our uncertainties, valued hope more than faith, and committed to empathy instead of violence". To me, that's what makes this story so emotionally tumultuous. It speaks to a deep yearning for a stable and accepting world where love is allowed to flourish and happy endings aren't so often extinguished.
Clearly, it's been a wild and emotional ride for me. I've never had a book rock me to the core like these books have. I didn't expect this level of quality when I started reading, but here I am utterly blown away.
As I said in my review of The Forest Gods, the author deserves a feather.
As I said in my overly dramatic review of The Forest Gods, the gay subtext in these books hits hard. God of Fire takes that to another level, and even had the time to introduce new themes and messages to make things all the more impactful. But unlike The Forest Gods, this is the last book in the series. Things actually get wrapped up this time, and there's closure to be had. That helps somewhat with the emotional anxiety these books seem intent on ravaging me with.
Doto and Clay are such a shockingly relatable couple at this point in their journey, that it makes what they go through in this book all the more crushing. There's a maturity to how their relationship is depicted that I think only people in committed relationships will truly resonate with. That, for me, was the star attraction of this book. The graduation from a young, tumultuous love to grown-up, tumultuous commitment here is stellar. I cannot stress that enough. Their relationship really has evolved brilliantly over the course of the trilogy.
The use of subplots to commentate on religious and societal faults and fallacies is also a highlight. Cloud's journey to Bogana, and Mirage's struggle with his past actions may seem unnecessarilly long to some, but I found them very effective at portraying the stakes of the disorder amongst the gods, and in representing the extreme danger that absolute certainty in one's faith and prejudices can bring. Plus you can't really have a story with heavy gay subtext without also including how downright unstable and threatening much of human society is.
I'd also like to point out how hard Zhivago went on the art for this book. The cover, first of all, is absolutely gorgeous. The best in the series, in my opinion. But there are a few images in the book itself that I desperately want prints for. The image of Clay and Doto just chilling in their sanctuary was especially beautiful. The one of Doto and Clay in the swamp gave me oh so many feelings.
But what really got me about this book was the fragility of everything bright and beautiful in it. And more importantly, how that relates to the real world. Let's face it, a lot of the things that allow Doto and Clay's relationship to survive, and a lot of the things that allow the people of the Savannah to survive, come down to the absolute wire. There are so many points at which everything good could have fallen completely apart in this story. That makes it all the more heartwrenching. In the real world, high stakes situations don't work out like this. The Dotos and Clays of our world burn. The people of the Savannah in our world are sacrificed. So, this book sort of makes real life feel incredibly tragic to me. It's unrealistic. Idealistic. And that may be a criticism for many. But I think it's what makes stories like this important and effective. They highlight things in the real world that crush good stories and happy endings. This book says "look how good our story could be if we just accepted our uncertainties, valued hope more than faith, and committed to empathy instead of violence". To me, that's what makes this story so emotionally tumultuous. It speaks to a deep yearning for a stable and accepting world where love is allowed to flourish and happy endings aren't so often extinguished.
Clearly, it's been a wild and emotional ride for me. I've never had a book rock me to the core like these books have. I didn't expect this level of quality when I started reading, but here I am utterly blown away.
As I said in my review of The Forest Gods, the author deserves a feather.
Rafts by Utunu
5.0
The more I think about Rafts, the more I appreciate it. The novel’s takes some bold and unexpected paths, and I’m eager to talk about them. Here’s my review:
Rafts follows a clam diver named Kunet who, after a dangerous storm, becomes stranded on a beautiful island paradise with a particularly muscular and silly gnoll named Shima. As expected of a romance novel, the two fall in love as they navigate their shared predicament.
That’s a pretty standard setup, but standard setups are often perfect for building more complex ideas upon. Utunu certainly succeeds in that by making some unexpected decisions with where to take this story. This is far more than a quick romance novel. Much more on that later.
The main characters here are very different people, which is part of their charm. Kunet is resourceful, open-minded, inquisitive, and a bit of a worrier. Shima is a carefree goofball with a heart of gold and a skill for brightening moods. These differences complement each other: Shima can motivate and encourage Kunet, and Kunet keeps Shima on task and makes him feel appreciated. Without spoiling much, I think this is best showcased from learning each other’s languages. Shima learns Kunet’s language to help fulfill Kunet’s need for communication and to make him more comfortable. Kunet learns Shima’s language to show how much he cares and to bring them closer together. Using language learning as an intimate and meaningful relationship builder was already great on its own, but doing so in a way that develops the characters and shows why their relationship works was even better. I often complain about romances where I cannot explain by the end of the book why the characters love each other. That is not a problem here.
The story is heavier on narrative than on story or plot, meaning that much of the novel is focused on Kunet’s thoughts and interpretations rather than on momentous events. This is a rather short novel. It doesn’t stretch things out longer than needed, and it doesn’t insert unnecessary conflict. There is very little drama here. When it comes to intensity, the book is practically slice of life. That’s not to say it’s boring, however. The book moves fast. (Perhaps a little too fast, sometimes.) So it keeps you engaged despite the lack of mounting conflict. I myself read it in one sitting and was never bored. I think the relationship itself, and Kunet’s first-person contemplations that really help you get in his head, are interesting enough to keep the reader’s attention.
Now here’s the one criticism I have for the book that I’m pretty sure only editors like me care about: The prose perhaps leaves a bit to be desired at times. I believe that’s mostly because of how fast the book moves at certain points. The writing sometimes felt like it was in a hurry, taking very little time to stop and smell the roses. For example, it takes just six short pages for Kunet to do some clam diving, bring his boat into his village, talk about his family, help prep the village for an incoming storm, describe some religious stuff, get swept out to sea, and find himself on a raft with Shima. Six pages. It gave me some whiplash. I understand moving quickly past the village stuff, since that’s not what the book is really about (more on that in the spoilers section), but it didn’t give me a great first impression. I point this out to make sure that you don’t put the book down in the first chapter if you’re a nerd about writing styles like me. It’s worth sticking around.
Somewhat related to the prose, this book includes some beautiful illustrations that really compliment the story. There were a few pages where the text was wrapped creatively around the images. The playful way this was done could even sometimes compliment the tone of a scene. I think that was great, and it's something I’d love to see more of in furry fiction since art is often such a big part of it.
Thematically, the book has a lot to say about the theme of sanctuary: finding paradise from a complicated outside world. But to learn more about that, you’ll need to read the spoiler section of this review.
To sum it up, if you have yet to read Rafts, be sure to do so. It’s a quick read that will especially hit hard with gay furries. I’d go as far as saying it’s essential furry literature at the moment.
Beware: spoilers ahead.
And here is the part of the review where I step up on my soapbox and describe what really struck me about this book.
As I’ve said above, the novel takes some bold and unexpected paths. For this spoiler section, I want to highlight the unexpected path that gave me a sudden respect for this novel and, in my opinion, transformed it from “good” to “great”.
The beginning of the story may be extremely condensed, which creates a pacing issue, but the author wasn’t wrong in keeping the details here extremely sparse. We’re told Kunet is a clam diver who prides himself in his role. We’re told the name of his mother, his baby brother, and a few acquaintances. In six pages, that’s all over, and he’s stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. This left me scratching my head on my first readthrough. Why gloss over so much information that’s doubtlessly vital to understanding this world and our main characters? From what I knew of Utunu’s work, that isn’t something he usually fumbles. So what gives?
I got my answer about 100 pages later.
After thriving on the island together for a few years, Kunet and Shima decide it’s time to leave the island and journey back into the world. It felt very cliché. I found myself predicting exactly how this story was going to go down: They’d leave the island, return to their villages, deal with some sort of conflict that is eventually resolved, and live happily ever after.
So Kunet and Shima build a raft, they bring it to the water, and they…decide not to return.
Yeah, they just…push the raft into the sea and decide to stay on the island together instead. No return to civilization. No conflict with the outside world. No brooding about whether such a thing is morally right or wrong.
Huh…this book just got good.
That’s when I realized why the beginning of the story doesn’t give much detail about Kunet and Shima’s lives before the island: It’s not what the story is about.
I’m a fan of stories that explore the theme of sanctuary—especially as it relates to gay relationships. There’s something crushingly applicable to the real world in such stories. Our society is hostile to gay relationships, so many of us create safe places where we can be ourselves and not have to constantly advocate for our own existence. These spaces range from something as communal as a gay bar to something as personal as an apartment. Rarely, however, do we get to stay in these sanctuaries indefinitely. Most of us must go to our jobs, stay woke to current events, and fight just to love who we love and be who we want to be. So, the theme of sanctuary sparks a lot of potential for moral conflict. If you find a perfect sanctuary, should you still feel an obligation to the outside world? Should you leave your sanctuary to go help or save that world? Even if the world is hostile toward you? Is this selfish indulgence? And if so, is it wrong?
I so rarely find a story with the guts to have its characters reject the outside world entirely and stay in their sanctuary (outside of romance novels that aren’t concerned with thematic depth, of course). There’s usually an overwhelming sense of responsibility that makes the characters go back. Perhaps some obligation, or even the argument that it is morally wrong for them to stay in paradise while the outside world struggles. Kunet and Shima both have families. They have villages that expect things from them. Responsibilities. Jobs to do. And they just…decide not to return.
They feel very little guilt over it, too. Kunet has a few lines mulling it over, and he later sends a message with some gnolls who come across their island, but that’s it. The rest of the book is Kunet and Shima being carefree and happy. They live the rest of their lives barely giving the outside world a second thought. What they have in each other is beautiful, and perhaps it would be wrong for them not to do everything they can to preserve it.
The cherry on top is that the book doesn’t bash you over the head with this. Much of this theming is done in the subtext, which is far more artful than outright stating the message. Whether intentional by the author or not, it resulted in a brilliant depth to the novel that I thoroughly enjoyed exploring.
I hope that gives you some idea of why Rafts gained my respect. It brought a rare, meaningful perspective to a relatable and relevant theme, and I think that more than earns it my recommendation.
Rafts follows a clam diver named Kunet who, after a dangerous storm, becomes stranded on a beautiful island paradise with a particularly muscular and silly gnoll named Shima. As expected of a romance novel, the two fall in love as they navigate their shared predicament.
That’s a pretty standard setup, but standard setups are often perfect for building more complex ideas upon. Utunu certainly succeeds in that by making some unexpected decisions with where to take this story. This is far more than a quick romance novel. Much more on that later.
The main characters here are very different people, which is part of their charm. Kunet is resourceful, open-minded, inquisitive, and a bit of a worrier. Shima is a carefree goofball with a heart of gold and a skill for brightening moods. These differences complement each other: Shima can motivate and encourage Kunet, and Kunet keeps Shima on task and makes him feel appreciated. Without spoiling much, I think this is best showcased from learning each other’s languages. Shima learns Kunet’s language to help fulfill Kunet’s need for communication and to make him more comfortable. Kunet learns Shima’s language to show how much he cares and to bring them closer together. Using language learning as an intimate and meaningful relationship builder was already great on its own, but doing so in a way that develops the characters and shows why their relationship works was even better. I often complain about romances where I cannot explain by the end of the book why the characters love each other. That is not a problem here.
The story is heavier on narrative than on story or plot, meaning that much of the novel is focused on Kunet’s thoughts and interpretations rather than on momentous events. This is a rather short novel. It doesn’t stretch things out longer than needed, and it doesn’t insert unnecessary conflict. There is very little drama here. When it comes to intensity, the book is practically slice of life. That’s not to say it’s boring, however. The book moves fast. (Perhaps a little too fast, sometimes.) So it keeps you engaged despite the lack of mounting conflict. I myself read it in one sitting and was never bored. I think the relationship itself, and Kunet’s first-person contemplations that really help you get in his head, are interesting enough to keep the reader’s attention.
Now here’s the one criticism I have for the book that I’m pretty sure only editors like me care about: The prose perhaps leaves a bit to be desired at times. I believe that’s mostly because of how fast the book moves at certain points. The writing sometimes felt like it was in a hurry, taking very little time to stop and smell the roses. For example, it takes just six short pages for Kunet to do some clam diving, bring his boat into his village, talk about his family, help prep the village for an incoming storm, describe some religious stuff, get swept out to sea, and find himself on a raft with Shima. Six pages. It gave me some whiplash. I understand moving quickly past the village stuff, since that’s not what the book is really about (more on that in the spoilers section), but it didn’t give me a great first impression. I point this out to make sure that you don’t put the book down in the first chapter if you’re a nerd about writing styles like me. It’s worth sticking around.
Somewhat related to the prose, this book includes some beautiful illustrations that really compliment the story. There were a few pages where the text was wrapped creatively around the images. The playful way this was done could even sometimes compliment the tone of a scene. I think that was great, and it's something I’d love to see more of in furry fiction since art is often such a big part of it.
Thematically, the book has a lot to say about the theme of sanctuary: finding paradise from a complicated outside world. But to learn more about that, you’ll need to read the spoiler section of this review.
To sum it up, if you have yet to read Rafts, be sure to do so. It’s a quick read that will especially hit hard with gay furries. I’d go as far as saying it’s essential furry literature at the moment.
Beware: spoilers ahead.
And here is the part of the review where I step up on my soapbox and describe what really struck me about this book.
As I’ve said above, the novel takes some bold and unexpected paths. For this spoiler section, I want to highlight the unexpected path that gave me a sudden respect for this novel and, in my opinion, transformed it from “good” to “great”.
The beginning of the story may be extremely condensed, which creates a pacing issue, but the author wasn’t wrong in keeping the details here extremely sparse. We’re told Kunet is a clam diver who prides himself in his role. We’re told the name of his mother, his baby brother, and a few acquaintances. In six pages, that’s all over, and he’s stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. This left me scratching my head on my first readthrough. Why gloss over so much information that’s doubtlessly vital to understanding this world and our main characters? From what I knew of Utunu’s work, that isn’t something he usually fumbles. So what gives?
I got my answer about 100 pages later.
After thriving on the island together for a few years, Kunet and Shima decide it’s time to leave the island and journey back into the world. It felt very cliché. I found myself predicting exactly how this story was going to go down: They’d leave the island, return to their villages, deal with some sort of conflict that is eventually resolved, and live happily ever after.
So Kunet and Shima build a raft, they bring it to the water, and they…decide not to return.
Yeah, they just…push the raft into the sea and decide to stay on the island together instead. No return to civilization. No conflict with the outside world. No brooding about whether such a thing is morally right or wrong.
Huh…this book just got good.
That’s when I realized why the beginning of the story doesn’t give much detail about Kunet and Shima’s lives before the island: It’s not what the story is about.
I’m a fan of stories that explore the theme of sanctuary—especially as it relates to gay relationships. There’s something crushingly applicable to the real world in such stories. Our society is hostile to gay relationships, so many of us create safe places where we can be ourselves and not have to constantly advocate for our own existence. These spaces range from something as communal as a gay bar to something as personal as an apartment. Rarely, however, do we get to stay in these sanctuaries indefinitely. Most of us must go to our jobs, stay woke to current events, and fight just to love who we love and be who we want to be. So, the theme of sanctuary sparks a lot of potential for moral conflict. If you find a perfect sanctuary, should you still feel an obligation to the outside world? Should you leave your sanctuary to go help or save that world? Even if the world is hostile toward you? Is this selfish indulgence? And if so, is it wrong?
I so rarely find a story with the guts to have its characters reject the outside world entirely and stay in their sanctuary (outside of romance novels that aren’t concerned with thematic depth, of course). There’s usually an overwhelming sense of responsibility that makes the characters go back. Perhaps some obligation, or even the argument that it is morally wrong for them to stay in paradise while the outside world struggles. Kunet and Shima both have families. They have villages that expect things from them. Responsibilities. Jobs to do. And they just…decide not to return.
They feel very little guilt over it, too. Kunet has a few lines mulling it over, and he later sends a message with some gnolls who come across their island, but that’s it. The rest of the book is Kunet and Shima being carefree and happy. They live the rest of their lives barely giving the outside world a second thought. What they have in each other is beautiful, and perhaps it would be wrong for them not to do everything they can to preserve it.
The cherry on top is that the book doesn’t bash you over the head with this. Much of this theming is done in the subtext, which is far more artful than outright stating the message. Whether intentional by the author or not, it resulted in a brilliant depth to the novel that I thoroughly enjoyed exploring.
I hope that gives you some idea of why Rafts gained my respect. It brought a rare, meaningful perspective to a relatable and relevant theme, and I think that more than earns it my recommendation.
The Sky Calls by Hal Aetus
5.0
A brief story and an interesting read. It's a medical thriller which I affectionally call "the birb man book", because it is indeed about a man turning into a giant bird as a result of an experimental cancer treatment gone wrong. I think the highlight of the story is the very endearing and supportive (asexual?) relationship between the main character and his best friend/partner. That relationship had me smiling the whole way through. The book also teaches you a lot about bird anatomy. Probably more than you wanted to know, in fact. So you may not only enjoy this story, but you'll have learned something by the end of it as well.
I was also happy to see that the author didn't shy away from portraying the more gruesome elements of the transformation. That took guts, and I respect him for it.
So if you're interested in transformation, birds, asexuality(?), and maybe a little body horror, check this one out.
I was also happy to see that the author didn't shy away from portraying the more gruesome elements of the transformation. That took guts, and I respect him for it.
So if you're interested in transformation, birds, asexuality(?), and maybe a little body horror, check this one out.
Wolf of Withervale by Joaquín Baldwin
5.0
An extremely promising start to an extremely promising world. The elaborate high fantasy worldbuilding here is impressive, with one of the most intricately detailed maps I've ever seen in a fantasy book, and entire languages forged in runic script. But most importantly, this book gives representation to LGBTQ+ readers who barely ever get to see themselves reflected in high fantasy worlds--especially ones so lovingly crafted.
The concept of a world dotted with massive, mysterious domes is also rather unique. It certainly distinguishes Noss from other high fantasy worlds, building intrigue into the land itself.
The book itself is also gorgeous, with vivid cover art and many interior illustrations worthy of getting printed, framed, and hung on the wall. I highly recommend the hardcover. It's wonderfully put together.
The concept of a world dotted with massive, mysterious domes is also rather unique. It certainly distinguishes Noss from other high fantasy worlds, building intrigue into the land itself.
The book itself is also gorgeous, with vivid cover art and many interior illustrations worthy of getting printed, framed, and hung on the wall. I highly recommend the hardcover. It's wonderfully put together.
Winter Without End by Casimir Laski
5.0
When I started reading this book, I expected Call of the Wild. What I got instead was something more akin to Cormac McCarthy's The Road, but with beautiful prose and talking canines. Of course any book would have a hard time living up to that classic, but Winter Without End does an admirable job of presenting a similar world and vibe.
First, I need to praise Casimir Laski's prose. It's gorgeous, with intriguing descriptions, natural dialogue, great flow, and meticulous pacing. It's the strongest element of the book for me, being a bit of a writing style nerd. I appreciated the heck out of it. Characters are well-developed too, feeling distinct in both action and dialogue.
The world in this book is portrayed with great atmosphere and tension, as well. There's always a sense of approaching danger and the need to flee from the monster right behind you. This is interesting considering that the canine characters are immune to the human plague that has ravaged the world. So often we think that nature will begin to heal as a result of humanity's downfall, yet at least in the short term the loosening of our grip on the world is shown to be disastrous here. That was something I haven't seen before.
Now as great as the prose, characters, and portrayal of the world are, I had some issues with the plot. To be vague, there is an avoidance of conflict that makes it very boring and limits character development. Whenever it seems like the characters are about to encounter a challenge that will test them and show how they work together to overcome it, they circumvent it instead. Though probably more realistic, it makes for a rather dull plot. There is also a grand, almost supernatural threat talked about constantly in the beginning of the book--a mysterious freezing storm, constantly approaching--that disappears from the later half, which was frustrating because that impending danger did such a great job of setting the tone and sense of urgency.
But despite my reservations, it's still a very worthwhile read to experience the author's wonderful writing style. Plus, I'm sure you'll love the characters and atmosphere as much as I did.
First, I need to praise Casimir Laski's prose. It's gorgeous, with intriguing descriptions, natural dialogue, great flow, and meticulous pacing. It's the strongest element of the book for me, being a bit of a writing style nerd. I appreciated the heck out of it. Characters are well-developed too, feeling distinct in both action and dialogue.
The world in this book is portrayed with great atmosphere and tension, as well. There's always a sense of approaching danger and the need to flee from the monster right behind you. This is interesting considering that the canine characters are immune to the human plague that has ravaged the world. So often we think that nature will begin to heal as a result of humanity's downfall, yet at least in the short term the loosening of our grip on the world is shown to be disastrous here. That was something I haven't seen before.
Now as great as the prose, characters, and portrayal of the world are, I had some issues with the plot. To be vague, there is an avoidance of conflict that makes it very boring and limits character development. Whenever it seems like the characters are about to encounter a challenge that will test them and show how they work together to overcome it, they circumvent it instead. Though probably more realistic, it makes for a rather dull plot. There is also a grand, almost supernatural threat talked about constantly in the beginning of the book--a mysterious freezing storm, constantly approaching--that disappears from the later half, which was frustrating because that impending danger did such a great job of setting the tone and sense of urgency.
Spoiler
The ending also left a lot to be desired. It felt rather pointless.But despite my reservations, it's still a very worthwhile read to experience the author's wonderful writing style. Plus, I'm sure you'll love the characters and atmosphere as much as I did.