"I will not lie by saying every day will be sunshine. But there will be sunshine again, and that is a very different thing to say." Journey Before Destination I've been in a more music-focused mood of late, detrimental as it is to my keeping up with a half dozen monthly book clubs. It seemed a little early to follow up on my post from two weeks ago, so I figured why not try to make heads or tails of the remaining songs from Skeletá. I most recently tackled ' Satanized ' three and a half months ago (see that post for links to the rest), but honestly can't say I had looked much deeper at the rest of the album until about a week ago. Obviously enough, the topic I hit upon was Track 5, 'De Profundis Borealis'. In particular, I'm drawn to the song's message of hope in the darkness, which it shares with a beloved and pivotal moment in Brandon Sanderson's Rhythm of War . Combined with the advent of both winter and Seasonal Affective Disorder in my life, now seems like a perfect time to discuss a song whose title translates to "from the frozen depths/northern abyss". As with previous times I've written adjacent to my mental health journey, I'm considering this Part Three of my 'Journey Before Destination' series – based off the quote and ideas from Sanderson's Stormlight Archive . Here are Part One and Part Two . Today I'll be expanding on that first entry as, believe it or not, writing for a couple hours about a problem doesn't always solve it permanently – especially as significant and chronic a problem as depression. Kaladin and Hoid, art by Shayndl_art Rhythm of War I'd actually forgotten that I discussed this exact moment in Part One, which feels surprisingly fitting for my mental health journey. Whether it's related to ADHD or just being human, I have a bad habit of letting lessons fall by the wayside as soon as they're no longer immediately applicable to my situation; only to have to relearn them upon inevitably returning. I don't think I stressed quite enough last time that, at the time of this interaction, Kaladin has been plucked up by an evil god and thrust into literal hell. Sure he's been riding the rollercoaster of depression and survivor's guilt for a while, but there's a difference between hitting a downturn and having the whole ride nuked. On the other hand, maybe that difference is irrelevant. His choices remain the same: give up, or keep fighting. And although it doesn't particularly weigh on him in the moment, giving up in this case wouldn't just be dying; it would be putting his spear in the hands of the enemy and very likely dooming the universe. But such is fantasy. Hoid, an immortal jester scheming and storytelling his way through that universe, shows up in hell to give Kaladin a brief respite from the storm. He tells the lovely story of The Dog and the Dragon , and finishes their conversation with the following quote. “It will get better. Then it will get worse again. Then better. This is life, and I will not lie by saying every day will be sunshine. But there will be sunshine again, and that is a very different thing to say. That is truth. I promise you, Kaladin: You will be warm again.” – Brandon Sanderson, Rhythm of War Hoid telling Kaladin The Dog and the Dragon , art by Jenny Dolfen Ghost's "If You Have Ghosts" & "De Profundis Borealis" Only as I'm writing this do I wonder whether Tobias Forge, frontman of Ghost, was (in)directly quoting that line during the song "If You Have Ghosts" performed as part of the film Rite Here Rite Now : “How about that? I understand that despitе the fact that we're here tonight, and we're having a good time, that might not mean that you're all feeling great all of the time, right? Sometimes, moments of fun can be a liftening of the burden for a short little moment. But hey, that is life, you know? That's how life works. You have fun, then not so fun. You're happy, and then you're sad. That is the rollercoaster, that is life. You got that? Do you understand? Alright.” – Papa IV, Rite Here Rite Now Probably not. But the message is the same, and I think it's deeply important to hear it at high moments as well as low ones. Where Hoid is helping Kaladin survive the night (without lying to him that his life will be perfect afterward), Forge as Papa IV is reminding us to be in the moment and take joy in the good moments, to hold them in our hearts in preparation for the next plunge. And "De Profundis Borealis" off of Ghost's Skeletá (2025) sees someone in a frigid plunge indeed. To me, the lyrics (below) evoke an image of someone who has cut themselves off from the world after too many attempts to reach out ended in pain and suffering. All the things that never gave you peace // Throwin' those, but keepin' these All the rights that didn't undo wrongs // Put it back where it belongs In a palace built of frozen tears // All life is gone But between the walls of whispering frost // Secrets live on Every time you feel the wind blow // And a glow within you dies When tomorrow comes, you will know // That the morning thaws the ice All the words that never came out right // Within reach, but out of sight All the songs that couldn't mend your heart // But slit it up and tore apart See, the palace built of frozen tears // Is your own built prison And if only love could break these chains // Life could go on Every time you feel the wind blow // And a glow within you dies When tomorrow comes, you will know // That the morning thaws the ice Yet their solitude, constructed both in response to and out of their depression, is only weakening them further over time. To me, the figure also seems to be frozen in the night: they aren't allowing morning to come or are else buried to deep to be aware of it. But once they do allow themselves to reach out, they will find that there is light, warmth and beauty in the world. Although the "thaws the ice" line is certainly the most relevant to today's discussion and powerful in how it echoes the other two examples, I think the most meaningful line is "if only love could break these chains // life could go on". On the surface, this sounds like the Snow White/Sleeping Beauty fairy tale: that only true love will free this depressed person. But I hope any moderately well-adjusted person recognizes how deeply untrue – and dangerous – that is. And I think that's the real horror of this song: that that's the belief this figure has, despite the fact that their solitude precludes them from finding external love. Ghost being the smart cookies that they are, I think the line has another meaning: that if the song's subject can find love for themself, they can break their chains and move on with their life; see the dawn that thaws the ice. Painting by Julia S. Powell Until Dawn And that's the hidden moral of Kaladin and Hoid as well. Hoid has enough magical tricks at his disposal that he could save a lot of people from suffering, maybe even Kaladin in hell. But a) he can't do everything, everywhere, all at once and b) doing so would likely doom Kaladin the next time things turned to the worse. (Now, I did feel a little squeamish writing that, because it sounds adjacent to some unhelpful ideology. I think the difference is that Hoid is helping indirectly, by helping people help themselves. But please comment with your take on it!) The takeaways, very much for me as much as for you reading: you will be warm again, even if not every day. The only way out is through, and you have to actively choose to fight and survive. Other people (even fantasy authors and satanic bands) can and will help, but ultimately you have to find love for yourself. We'll make it through. We'll see the sun again. Thanks for reading and until next time <3

We aren’t as doomed as we think Intro: A Very Scary Book Long COVID, particularly the sort that instills permanent or chronic brain fog in its victims, is utterly nightmarish to me. It has been shown to bear striking similarities to Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Alzheimer's , and is estimated to affect 1/20 adults in the world, with greater risks for older, female and unvaccinated populations. Will There Ever Be Another You is a 2025 novel by Patricia Lockwood, labeled ' autofictional ' because it is heavily inspired by the author's experience with long COVID from March 2020 until at least mid-2021. Reading this book is an uncomfortable experience. Time, thoughts, and structure jump, spin and wheel in what one reviewer described as "cortical shrapnel". Lockwood (and/or her character) is horribly aware of her reduced mental state, struggling with words, synonyms and spelling – let alone with larger tasks as part of her career and personal life. The patterns of her thoughts, and the way she searches for possible examples and answers reminded me of the latter half of Charlie's journey in Flowers for Algernon . Will There Ever Be Another You , cover design by Lauren Peters-Collaer Now, I'm sad to say that I put down Will There Ever Be Another You after only reading a quarter of it. Partly because I learned that it is filled with references to her other work, reading which I think will make this a more compelling piece, but also because it was beginning to strike a little close to home regarding my recent experiences living with ADHD. That time spent online has been making it harder and harder for me to string a single coherent thought together. And from the community I've found this year, I've recently come to learn that it's not just ADHD (though I think it is an aggravating factor): our minds are being attacked 24/7, whether by long COVID or TikTok, and we need to get defenses in place before our grey matter starts leaking out our ears. The Keeper of Trial, by Anato Finnstark The Attention (Addiction) Economy The world runs on eyeballs, and what better way to harvest those jellies than to keep them coming back for more meaningless hits of dopamine, using the same tactics as casinos, big Pharma and anyone else who's ever profited from addictive behaviours. Would you believe that major social media companies have been burying data about their harmful role in teenage mental health? Well, lawsuits are finally catching up with reality at least. Over the past few months I've been doing a lot of my reading on my phone – if you can even call it reading to scroll through three pages before frantically opening Instagram for the five hundredth time that day, looking for the hit of a notification then disappointedly scrolling for a minute. And even then, I still count myself lucky that I'm part of that rare percentage of people who are actually trying to read a book, rather than just sitting there captivated by short-form video content for hours on end. The same is true for when I'm watching long-form videos, writing, playing Sudoku, whatever – the hit of opening Instagram or Strava is only ever a second away, and my thumb will often take me there before I even realize it. More and more often, I'll go to my phone to accomplish a specific task: send a message, add something to my calendar, double-check an event description, etc.; and ten minutes later I'll put my phone down having done anything but the task I set out to do. Granted that that's ADHD at the best of times, but it feels even more insidious when it's my phone, which I in many ways use to navigate and manage my ADHD, which is waylaying and stifling me at every turn. So how the hell are we supposed to get anything meaningful – let alone productive – done, when even our leisure time isn't safe from this constant, gnawing interruption? Art by Georgiana Luiza Nicolae Internet Survival Tips In the past week, I've heard from two friends that they partially manage these issues by imposing strict daily limits on their app time (using parental controls ) to help prevent the endless scroll. I see other people take time off of Instagram altogether, and they seem happier for it every single time. I've personally been working toward moving my social life off of the platform, so that every communication doesn't need to be accompanied by the algorithm pumping its ads-laced serum into my eyes. (Talking to myself here:) Don't read e-books on your phone! Find a cheap e-reader second hand if you prefer the format, or use your local library if not. If you're on audio or physical books, consider putting your phone out of easy reach so that you can't mindlessly reach for it. As with above, so much else falls into this same category. Try watching things on a larger screen and find something to do with your hands so your phone doesn't find its way back into them. Crocheting and knitting work for a lot of people, and you even end up with clothes to wear or gift at the end of the process! As for writing, puzzling and whatnot with ADHD, try adding some music or a light show in the background to keep your mind engaged and not yearning for that quick dopamine hit. But above all, get off the internet. Use it to find in-person community or to learn a new hobby, then ditch its hollow digital shell for the real thing. Finding community, new hobbies and friendships has helped me a ton this year, partly just because it got me off my damn phone for a few more hours each week. I recently ran a half-marathon, both because I wanted to see if I could and because it just feels amazing to have a goal and activity that exist entirely beyond "Slide to Unlock". Saturn Return, by Angelika Rasmus Step Outside (and/or Read) I've written a lot about the importance of books in teaching us empathy, and I think that's doubly true in a world where ragebait content is actively trying to prey on what little empathy we have left as a society. Books, sunlight, people, exercise; don't sleep on them. But please do sleep, rather than doomscroll. A while back I wrote about how to be perfectly miserable , in case you want more inspiration of what not to do. I've also written once or twice about living with ADHD , a lot of which I glossed over today. Particularly read this piece if you want more about managing attention amid the chaos of the world! Any tips that you've found helpful in your own life? I'm always on the lookout for more helpful ideas! Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Purge the Poison , Another Me (In Lak'ech) , Consign to Oblivion Dawn Awakening, art by Serena Malyon Meaningful Music Strange as it may sound, I think I found deeper meaning and morals in music before being able to truly appreciate it in literature. Part of that certainly comes from listening to groups like Nightwish and Epica before even reaching high school, but I also think that the musical delivery of lyrics captures my imagination much more naturally than learning to excavate meaning from prose – let alone most poetry. As you can tell from my previous writing about various songs , my interest leans heavily toward the philosophical and rarely strays anywhere near the interpersonal. (Sorry Swifties – but I think pop has enough people discussing and analyzing that music already anyway.) In particular – and fittingly considering the rest of my writing – I appreciate the hell out of songs which verbalize and elucidate ideas, feelings and fears which otherwise envelop me (and, I think, many of us) in a depressing yet undefinable miasma . Being aware of these ideas feels empowering, and I think it genuinely can be, if we act on that feeling instead of simply recognizing it and dismissing it like just another post in a doomscroll . Purge the Poison Okay, okay. Yes, MARINA is also pop. And you know what? She's doing it goddamn right, especially on this album. Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land (2021) combines incredible sound with powerful intersectional feminist ideas, so don't be surprised if I return with another track off it in the future. Despite being almost five years old, "Purge the Poison" ( full lyrics here and Spotify link to all three songs here ) rings truer to me today than ever before. The song takes the position that Mother Nature is purging human poison through natural disasters, wildfires and COVID-19 – just as our society has been slowly purging (or at least illuminating) its own poisons in the form of racism, misogyny, celebrity and weight loss culture, and more. There are far more wonderful lines than I have time to list here, but "capitalism made us poor" and "your home is now your prison" stand out for me as aphorisms which have only grown stronger with time. The rise of AI and our declining offline social circles have made us poorer and lonelier, and wildfires have trapped a great many people inside even beyond that, just as the lockdowns did. I do – as ever – personally have some questions about the genderedness of the song's message, but I'm willing to accept that as usual we're talking about historical and societal understandings of gender rather than their Platonic ideals which I might be alone in being hung up on. That is to say, I think the song is speaking to a need for greater empathy, community and nurturing care – in addition, obviously, to achieving equality and bodily autonomy. And those 'feminine' ideals are opposed to the 'masculine' and patriarchal defaults of greed and egotism, essentially that might makes right . (Let me know if that sounds right to you!) Another Me (In Lak'ech) Speaking of our personal experiences of the world and existence, if not exactly gender, Epica's "Another Me (In Lak'ech)" – "in lak'ech" is a Mayan phrase meaning "you are another myself" – puts an all-too-common feeling into words: how can these evil fucks possibly share the same baseline experience as you or I? The song ( full lyrics here ) speaks more directly to those same ideas of greed and egotism that "Purge the Poison" merely alludes to, castigating those who would see other people hurt in the pursuit of their own endless enrichment. Moreover, Epica makes clear that there can be no satisfactory end to such all-consuming behaviour: the hunger will simply continue, if not grow exponentially, right up until you get what's coming to you. As we all learned as children but forgot once capitalism got its claws in us, money can't buy happiness . In some ways the song reminds me of my piece on The Screwtape Letters , with both exploring the idea that throwing yourself wholeheartedly into a straightforward quest for happiness and fulfillment is only ever going to doom you. I have to note: this album came out in 2005. I know that corruption and greed are nothing new, but I also can't help but wonder how much more scathing this song would be if it came out today, post-2008 and amidst the absolutely nauseating billionaire-worship of today. Maybe in the intervening decades it's become a lot easier to forget our shared humanity, from both perspectives. But I think this song still asks us to remember it and question it, if we're going to get anywhere from here. Consign to Oblivion – A New Age Dawns 3 If you're going to get into bands like Nightwish and Epica – which I highly recommend! – you're going to encounter a few songs which are longer than some podcast episodes. In the case of Epica, you can also expect some strange extended titles, referring to their multiple 'series' of songs which span albums and years. One of these is " A New Age Dawns ", of which "Consign to Oblivion" is the third entry and which only concluded in 2025 with the release of the seventh, eighth and ninth entries on Epica's Aspiral . "Consign to Oblivion" ( full lyrics here ) demands that we practice mindfulness and be aware of the lies being fed to us from every direction in today's world. It speaks to how we have been taught to keep our eyes closed and ourselves close the ground, where we can imagine we feel safe and brave. How we constantly put off both the moral good and our own dreams for tomorrow, in the pursuit of advancement today. One of the lines that hits me hardest is delivered in a scream towards the end: " We have captured time, so time made us all hostages without mercy. " Indeed, how much of our so-called control over the world has now been turned against us? Now, I do question the way the song could be seen to point to anti-intellectualism – there are sadly a lot of people in the world who are trusting their guts and what they read online over scientists and other experts. I don't think that was the intended message, and I think they were instead aiming for something akin to MARINA's in "Purge the Poison": prioritizing empathy and community over this need to conquer every aspect of nature. Humanity over technology, understanding over control. Northern Lights, painting by Julia S. Powell Outro I think these three songs cohered a lot better than I had even anticipated, but I'd love to hear your thoughts and if you'd like to see more posts like this! I'll allow "Consign to Oblivion" to play me out today; thanks for reading and until next time <3 "There is more to life than our higher positions Race for perfection, better, faster We must return to the laws of the nature Free ourselves from madness."

The magic of inspiration is a far departure from soulless amalgamation Background Last week, when I was rattling off books I love and want to write more about, I found myself saying that I hadn't come across many fitting topics with which to discuss A.K. Larkwood's The Serpent Gates duology. These are books about power and relationships – including gay and lesbian romances – with a heaping helping of intriguing worldbuilding that first hooked me in. But I've never written about the startling realization I had about this duology months after setting the books down for the first time: their origin and inspiration in the work of Ursula K. Le Guin . The Tombs of Atuan (1970) is the sequel to Le Guin's ground-breaking A Wizard of Earthsea (1969), which was hugely influential over speculative fiction as a whole and served as inspiration for the books by she who must not be named . Larkwood has stated that The Tombs of Atuan is both among her favourite books and a direct foundation for The Unspoken Name (2020): "In The Tombs of Atuan , the main character is a young woman brought up in the cult of a strange god, and she eventually makes her escape with a visiting wizard, who is a selfless, considerate person. Unfortunately, what I love best is a wizard who is neither of those things, and imagining how that would have panned out was what originally sparked the idea of The Unspoken Name ." I only learned this while reading the older novel, and it was one of those delightful moments of revelation that I live for in this hobby. So, what happens when you flip a mysterious visiting wizard on his head? Tenar and Ged in The Tombs of Atuan , fan cover painted by Keith Robinson Inspiration vs. Amalgamation A few months ago I brought up Christopher Ruocchio's Empire of Silence (2018) , a book about which I was then on the fence and am now mildly negative . Ruocchio clearly took his favourite parts from a dozen different SFF stories and blended them together into a decently interesting world, but didn't quite manage to capture any of the character, emotion or narrative pacing that brought those previous works to life. (There's also the AI of it all , obviously, mashing all of humanity's words and works together for the entertainment of no one. But you've heard about that before, or if not here's a good video about it . Back to humans, elves and orcs for me.) Larkwood adapts from Le Guin's premise in a number of core ways. Both Csorwe and Tenar are chosen from birth to hold a sacred place within their cults to the Unspoken and Nameless Ones respectively, with their fourteenth birthdays marking their departures from the lives they know. Both are also paid unexpected visits by foreign wizards, with goals of their own. But beyond that (and other inspirations she's mentioned), Larkwood crafts her own story and world. She builds on what has come before, rather than fulfilling a long checklist of borrowed ideas. Official covers for The Serpent Gates duology, art by Billelis Worlds Apart The Tombs of Atuan  sees the first book's protagonist, selfless and considerate Sparrowhawk, travel into the heart of a distant cult in search of an artifact that will help bring peace to the known world. But Sparrowhawk is trapped by the cult's high priestess, a girl of fourteen named Tenar, and must help her break free of her indoctrination if either of them are going to survive. The Unspoken Name , on the other hand, sees the wizard Belthandros Sethennai visit Csorwe and the House of Silence in his search for information about an ancient relic, later revealed to contain his own heart and memories. Belthandros Sethennai (I’m just noticing his initials now, excellent touch) could easily be first mistaken to be every bit as endearing as Sparrowhawk. He persuades Csorwe not to complete the ritual that would end with her death and escapes with her under his wing as his apprentice. But where Sparrowhawk wants peace and to let Tenar live her own life, Sethennai wants his power back and a sheltered, manipulable pawn who can help him get it. Belthandros Sethennai (left) and Talasseres Charossa (right), by Ryan and Laya Rose Then there’s the fact that Belthandros is an elf and Csorwe an orc, where Sparrowhawk and Tenar are human (though I like that Sparrowhawk is Indigenous-inspired and Tenar is from the barbarian white Kargish tribes). There's the sprawling interconnected and decaying worlds which make up The Serpent Gates , against the vibrant archipelago of Earthsea . And of course, the slight difference between Sparrowhawk's quest for natural balance and Sethennai's quest for universal sovereignty. Here's where I have to admit that I haven't yet read the rest of Tenar's story, as depicted in the latter three Earthsea novels, though I vaguely know she follows in Sparrowhawk's footsteps as a wise guardian of the world. Even with the stark difference in their teachers, I hope she finds other companions and relationships like Csorwe does. If you've played Baldur's Gate III or touched that sphere of the internet in recent years, I think Astarion is a good enough parallel for Talasseres Charossa in a lot of ways. He's another castaway picked up and used by Sethennai, at first a chaotic rival to Csorwe for their mentor's affection (romantic in only his case) and later a close friend to her. Shuthmili is a young human wizard who, like Csorwe, has spent her life training for a role that seems as much death sentence as achievement. (That's another post that's been a very long time in coming.) Also like Csorwe – and Rin from The Poppy War , come to think of it – she is inextricably linked to a terrifying god and spends the books navigating that relationship as much as her love for Csorwe. Csorwe and Shuthmili, art by Exmakina Back to the Tomb Another admission: I went back for a re-read of The Serpent Gates earlier this year and found them less magical the second time around, partly for their wild pacing and partly because my favourite, most memorable parts were the surprising and imaginative worldbuilding elements. I have yet to re-read The Tombs of Atuan , but something tells me it will stand the test of time a little stronger. A.K. Larkwood's inclusion of Oranna feels like a truly beautiful expansion of Tenar and Csorwe's stories: Oranna was the librarian at the House of the Silent, secretly another Chosen Bride of the Unspoken who went undevoured on her fourteenth birthday, and plays a significant role in representing Csorwe's past even as she uses every necromantic tool at her disposal to race Belthandros Sethennai to his goals. She's a stark contrast to the apparent destruction of Tenar's cult immediately upon her escaping it – though again I can't say for sure whether Le Guin also brought out another surviving cultist in later books. I really appreciate the ideas around entropy and finality Oranna and her god (The Unspoken) ultimately represent, and may well get around to writing more about her journey as well. Finally, I can't help but wonder whether Tamsyn Muir also took inspiration from The Tombs of Atuan , or whether Larkwood was inspired by Muir, for the fascinating parallels between The Ninth House in The Locked Tomb and the House of Silence in The Unspoken Name . Lots of wonderful necromancer women and eerily singing dead, which is apparently a vibe I can't get enough of. Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Is motivation real? And meaningful stories I have yet to share and explore Motivation is a Lie Today is one of those days when I don’t have a particular topic that’s waiting to burst out of me and onto the screen. These days have thankfully been rarer since I cut back to writing one article per week, but they still happen and must be handled appropriately. If I took just one of these inspiration-less days off, I doubt you’d ever hear from me again. That’s ADHD and motivation for you: as soon as you break a pattern, it takes tremendous effort to reassemble it. Part of my journey recently has been coming to terms with the simple truth that motivation is a lie. If you wait for the perfect moment to do something, you’ll never do it. But if you want to do something and you make room to try it, you’ll find yourself well underway before you know it. I recently watched an episode of Adventuring Academy  on DropoutTV  with Brennan Lee Mulligan in conversation with Jacob Wysocki, and was fascinated by Brennan’s take on this topic: that he’s more interested in the output of an artist’s average, even suboptimal days than in their perfect ones. But I think that makes a lot of sense in the context of making space for yourself to put the work in, rather than waiting for a perfect moment that will never come. And the clichés certainly agree: practice makes perfect , you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take , et cetera. Another part of my recent journey has been taking more of these to heart, which is tough when I’ve spent my life thinking of them as inane and self-evident. Anyway; I think one thing that’s holding me back from being excited about new topics is the sheer amount of stories currently taking up space in the back of my mind, politely waiting for their turn in the spotlight. So I thought I’d trot a few out today, if you’ll indulge me – and please let me know if any catch your interest! Art by MK Cooper // Bearded_Artist_Studios Those to be Continued First off, I’d be remiss not to briefly mention the series I’ve begun discussing in-depth and still fully intend to return to. (Though part of me knows it would be most responsible to re-read them first.) Also note that nothing today is all-inclusive – I may forget a story or two. Terra Ignota  remains a mesmerizing, utterly unique work even as I approach a year since having finished it. I've written about a few of its most fascinating aspects – particularly the opposing philosophies of Sniper and J.E.D.D. MASON  – but there remains so much reflection upon power, love, duty and our identity as a species left to explore. Not to mention my feelings about how the author depicts gender and class, or that one scene with Dominic that will haunt me all my days. Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere , centered around The Stormlight Archive  and Mistborn , has for a long time been more to me than a series of novels or even a complex story. It is a world come alive, filled with both entertainment and lessons about mental health and storytelling . Whether it's gods and planes of existence or dealing with SAD , I'll be coming back to Sanderson and I'll continue recommending these excellent books. Like all its brethren in this section, The Hyperion Cantos has a special place in my heart for its unique, mind-bending story and the lessons it imparted to me . I wrote about three of the pilgrims' stories – Father Lenar Hoyt 's exploration of faith through the cruciform, Sol Weintraub 's task of sacrificing his de-aging daughter and The Consul 's FTL relationship and anticolonial struggle – soon after my re-read this year, and would like to complete the set in one form or another. And even that's just the beginning of all that's happening in the series. The Masquerade and The Locked Tomb  are never far from the forefront of my mind, and could always show up again despite how much I’ve already written about them. Either way, rest assured that either series’ fourth book will bring me back screaming. (Of course, the same is all true for A Song of Ice and Fire  – but I’ve learned my lesson about hope on that front after fifteen years.) Cover for Jorge Luis Borges' The Library of Babel , art by Érik Desmazières Those I’ve Touched On In a strange way, these are the ones that seem to weigh the most on me; the fact that I've brought them up and never returned feeling like a label of inadequacy. Actually thinking about it though, I think the explanations lean more towards either 1) it's been too long and the ideas aren't as fresh or 2) I've yet to find a topic for which they offer the perfect example. A few months ago I was baptized into Adrian Tchaikovsky's The Tyrant Philosophers series and haven't fully been the same since – the interquel novella recently came out and book four is only a few months away, so rest assured I'll be sharing about those soon enough. I also wrote briefly about Tchaikovsky's Children of Time back in the earliest days of this blog, and certainly need to write more about it – luckily book four, Children of Strife , arrives exactly one month after Pretenders to the Throne of God , so I'll have an excuse to get re-reading. (I've said it before and I'll say it again, Tchaikovsky is just as machine-like as Sanderson of late.) He's also got more books I love ( Cage of Souls , Alien Clay , Ogres ) and which I have yet to read ( Shroud , Doors of Eden , Shadows of the Apt etc.) so expect lots more about him in the future. I'm happy that I recently got a chance to return to Robin Hobb's Realm of the Elderlings , but this series still deserves a lot more. The interplay of the different magic systems, the depth of characters like Verity, the way Hobb weaves mystery and politics together with traditional fantasy... but most of all, the sheer depth of emotion in Fitz's life and journey, his relationships with the Fool, Nighteyes, Molly, Burrich and Bee. It hurts because it mattered, right? Teixcalaan and The Serpent Gates exist side-by-side in my mind for being strange, queer, women-focused duologies in simultaneously vast but all-too-narrow universes. Both are also probably worth talking about in conversation with other texts, but I definitely need to revisit Teixcalaan before I attempt to speak about it with any authority. And you know what, you can repeat every bit of praise I've given so far about Megan Whalen Turner's The Queen's Thief series. I really need to start re-reading. The Queen's Thief covers by Joel Tippie , image by Kristen B. Those Breaking New Ground My greatest crime over the almost two years of writing this blog is that I've mentioned N.K. Jemisin's name in only three articles and have never examined her works in-depth. Doubly so because her Broken Earth trilogy played a major role in my getting back into reading four years ago. That series absolutely deserves a spotlight, as does her Great Cities duology. Jemisin's The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms should also be in conversation with The Divine Cities and Critical Role , as I discussed last week. Again, re-reading stands in my way. Speaking of my re-discovery of reading, The Dresden Files played a massive role in reminding me of the value of light but thrilling books. Book 18 arrives in January; oh boy. I also had a great time with the author's Codex Alera and The Aeronaut's Windlass , both of which certainly have fun parallels to discuss. On a similar urban fantasy note – I didn't mention that The Dresden Files was urban fantasy, did I? Well, now you know – Caimh McDonnell's The Stranger Times series continues to blow my socks off with every release, the latest being Ring the Bells from October of this year. It's impossible to undersell how much comedy adds to these books, as I've previously discussed regarding KJ Parker's work . Last but furthest from least for today, Fonda Lee's The Green Bone Saga . The Godfather with Mistborn -like magic and A Song of Ice and Fire -like tragedy. The story even sees gay and female characters slowly come to the forefront, despite starting as macho as you'd expect. Another one, like Hobb's, that has me feeling a lot of emotions just thinking about it. Kaul Shae from The Green Bone Saga , art by mbenskydesigns Adieu Okay, did this turn into a recommendations list? Sure, but it also turned into my new ideas list, so let's call it even. Read these books, if ya like! Or don't, just don't doomscroll. It's killing us, I tells ya. Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Chaos, mystery and mortal corruption Campaign 4 & its Immediate Parallels It's been a month since Critical Role 's fourth campaign began, and like any good D&D nerd – not to mention fan of Brennan Lee Mulligan's – I've been following along religiously. (Well okay, I'm only halfway through the fourth episode , but it's a beast at over five hours long and at least half-filled with combat.) The premiere was chock full of bird imagery, which had my fingers itching to once again start writing about similarities to Adrian Tchaikovsky's City of Last Chances . While that may still be worth a look in the future, especially for other themes I'll get to later, over time I've grown a lot more interested in the story's parallels to Robert Jackson Bennett's The Divine Cities trilogy Warning right up top that I'm going to discuss the themes of the show so far, though I'll try to avoid spoiling concrete moments . I'll be slightly more liberal with The Divine Cities since it's a bit older and more obscure, but I hope you'll still consider checking it out if it sounds interesting to you! The Divine Cities trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett, cover art by Sam Weber Rising Against Tyranny (but not Tyranny , she seems great) To summarize very quickly, Critical Role 's new world of Aramán is defined by The Shapers' War, seventy years past, when mortals rose up and slew the gods who had created them. They were specifically led by the orcs, who wanted to follow a different path than their god of warfare and slaughter was willing to allow. The other six gods took up with their warmongering kin rather than listen to their creations, and the rest is history. In The Divine Cities , The Continent once ruled over the world with the backing of their six gods. Seventy-five or so years ago, the small nation of Saypur managed to rise up and kill three of those gods in open warfare, allowing them to eventually come to dominate The Continent with their technological superiority. The remaining three gods are presumed dead in the present day, yet documented miracles still exist – many having been suborned by Saypuri overlords. Which might sound familiar, if you've finished the second or third episode of Critical Role . Suffice to say that, while we've seen no evidence yet that any of the Shapers survived, it is clear that at least a few of their creations remain – albeit in altered states – and that powerful people are trying to harness them. Occtis Tachonis & Pin, art by Ksenia/Blue Beast Brennan said in promo videos (and has proven in the first four episodes) that he wanted to explore the idea of the afterlife and its machinery with its attendant gods having been ripped away. A functional system for managing souls is a frequent tenet fantasy and Dungeons & Dragons in particular – it even makes up a not insignificant chunk of R.F. Kuang's Katabasis . Similar issues arise in The Divine Cities , where entire heavens and hells filled with millions of eternal souls vanished into the void at the same moment their gods died. * Critical Role Speculation/Spoilers for this paragraph only* Everything we've learned so far has me convinced that Thjazi Fang was working on a solution to the clogged afterlife – whether intending to take up the role of psychopomp himself or manifest a new being by bringing the halfling and elven (and perhaps other?) spirits together. I'll be fascinated to learn who he was working with and why it was so urgent for him to be working on it now . Add to that the fact he saw something in the sky right before he died: could there be another extant psychopomp in play, which came for him? Thjazi Fang on the Campaign 4 poster, art by Hannah Friederichs What Victory Looks Like // Morals & Allegories In both stories, deicide and revolution bring temporary freedom for the oppressed before the power-hungry step up to take the reins. (This theme of post-revolution struggles is also highly relevant to City of Last Chances , as I've written about before .) Critical Role sees the Sundered Houses taking over the very seat of revolution in the Shapers' War, secretly wielding magic of otherworldly origins while simultaneously banning arcana of any kind. It's not particularly subtle but is terribly effective to see Brennan mirroring the behaviour of the current Trump presidency in these political machinations. The Divine Cities certainly sees Saypur as a whole prosper in their victory over The Continent's gods, but many others have paid the price in turn. Rather than ridding the world of tyranny, the Saypuri simply reversed (and arguably doubled) it on the Continent. Their murder of the gods has fundamentally warped the world in numerous harrowing ways. And much like in Critical Role , the feral remaining servants of the gods are calamities waiting to happen. (There's one sequence in particular where Sigrud Je Harkvaldsson confronts Urav, a demigod which contains its god's hell within its stomach, that will stick with me for a good long time – and which has me strongly considering Sigrud for my third Einherjar article.) Mulaghesh, Shara and Sigrud from The Divine Cities , art by Chanh Quach Only one way to find out Of course, Critical Role has only just begun, and we all know that there will be layers upon layers upon layers of mysteries to explore before we're done in Aramán. The Divine Cities trilogy is complete, on the other hand, and golly does the third book change things quite dramatically (kids, kids everywhere). One element (heh) of The Divine Cities I loved was the exploration of the mysterious white powder thinadeskite in the second book, City of Blades . Of all The Continent's gods, Voortya, god of war, is most definitively known to have died. Yet thinadeskite seems capable of powering her miracles and much more besides – much like God Metals in Sanderson's Cosmere. We're already seeing it a bit, but I'll be fascinated to learn the ways Aramán's people are using and abusing anything left of the divine, and what comes of experimenting with such things. What happened to the bodies of the Shapers themselves? I read a short story a while back with a perhaps relevant premise: Godmeat by Martin Cahill . Any other stories you've enjoyed which tackle similar ideas? I'd love to hear about them! Thanks for reading and until next time <3

A swift riffle of haunting houses and dreaded demesnes Location, Location, Location Folks, it's time we talked about how evil dentist offices are. Okay, maybe not – but I have just been, and had a realization about the relationship between ADHD and bad dental hygiene , so maybe I can set down a bit of the weight of guilt I've been carrying about that. This Friday is All Hallows' Eve, so I'm contractually obliged with my patron entities to write about something spooky. It's just occurred to me that I could always write about Hallowe'en itself and the role it plays in a number of different stories, often being a time when the barrier between the worlds of living and dead wear thin... (speaking of, anyone watching Critical Role ? Yowza !) but maybe that'll be one for next year. I love stories about places with minds and demeanours of their own. There's something about assigning sentience or simply intention to inert objects or beings that always grabs me, whether it's the rainbow bamboo tree Stevland in Semiosis , Danny the Street in Doom Patrol , or indeed malevolent places like Hill House and the Overlook Hotel. I'll loosely divide my examples into those which are strongly allegorical and those which are just plain evil. Note that I won't be discussing the origins of these places today, for two reasons: 1) I know that at least the Overlook is 'built on an ancient Indian burial ground', which is both offensive and boring, and 2) It's often a chicken-or-egg situation as to whether human evil cursed a place or a place attracted human evil. Without further ado, let's split up and stumble through a few spooky places in the middle of the night, shall we? The House on Ash Tree Lane, [artist unknown] Allegorical Evil ( House of Leaves , Negative Space ) I'm going to begin with the strangest pick of the day; a place whose evil is simultaneously cosmically apathetic and entirely subjective. I've written three lengthy articles about House of Leaves and in some ways it still feels like I've only scratched the surface of this haunting tale about obsession and madness which surrounds the House on Ash Tree Lane. At the story's most basic level, the House could be called evil for how it taunts and torments Navidson and his fellow explorers, driving him insane and alienating him from his family while also killing men like Holloway and Tom. On deeper analysis, one could say (and I'm sure I have) that the House's evil is representative of the dangers of obsession and spiralling. But at the same time, each narrative level of House of Leaves simply reflects back what people put into them. Is the House really the problem, or would Navidson just as easily have become obsessive and distant about something else? I would ultimately not label the House as malevolent, but it remains a fascinating point of discussion regardless. Cover of B.R. Yeager's Negative Space It's been a while since I wrote about B.R. Yeager's Negative Space , but a recent book club on the novel has it fresh in my mind. Neck and neck with Tender is the Flesh for the darkest and most depressing book I've ever read, Negative Space follows four teens through a suicide epidemic, creepy ritual magic and an all-consuming fungal rot overtaking their small American town. (There is technically an abandoned house where Tyler performs most of his rituals in the book, which arguably deserves to be here on its own. If any place has been magically and morally stained, it's that one.) But for me, Negative Space is at its most horrifying in its depictions and allegories of real, hard-to-escape terrors: drug addiction, toxic relationships, feeling suffocated by people and place, and more than anything, small towns. And to be clear, I've lived in Toronto all my life (also contractually obligated to say 'Go Jays!'); my closest points of reference for small towns, besides a few dozen other novels, are the Canadian sitcom Corner Gas and the ever-brilliant Midnight Mass . But Yeager implants the horror deep, and twists the knife by having his characters seem to escape before being drawn inexorably back into the mycelial web of trauma and the lives they thought they'd left behind. Perhaps I'm particularly terrified of regression, with how daunting ADHD makes every significant step forward. But the town of Negative Space getting its tendrils into Jill and Ahmir even months and years after Tyler's death feels every bit as malicious and calculated as the Overlook Hotel, even if the story overall tends toward allegory. The Overlook Hotel, design by Studio Muti for Ster-Kinekor Rotten to the Core ( The Shining , Haunting of Hill House ) If there's a single scene that has stuck with me strongest this year, it's the oh-so-simple moment of the Overlook Hotel's ghostly barman serving Jack Torrance alcohol that should not have existed . The infamous setting of Stephen King's The Shining is probably best known for its ghosts, but being haunted is merely a side effect: the novel makes clear that the Overlook is overwhelmingly cunning and cruel in its own right. The ghosts are its puppets and playthings, kindred evil spirits drawn to the hotel or warped by exposure to it. As I wrote previously , there are plenty of allegorical lessons to be learned from The Shining and its sequel Doctor Sleep – frankly far more than I had expected when I began re-reading the books. But the Overlook itself isn't an allegory, it's just an evil bastard looking to power itself up by absorbing Jack and Danny, preying on the family's traumas in order to divide and conquer. Jack genuinely tried to correct his course and be a better father, putting himself miles and hours away from a single drop of alcohol. The Overlook cheated, gleefully. (I'm realizing now that The Shining might be to The Haunting of Hill House what King's 'Salem's Lot is to Dracula . Are there other clear examples of King riffing on a classic?) Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House (1959) probably wasn't the first story to ever anthropomorphize an evil-looking building, but it sure as hell set the tone for the genre. House of Leaves certainly took profound inspiration from the uncanny architecture of Hill House, and as I noted above the Overlook absolutely feels like a direct response to it. The fact that the novel leaves it ambiguous whether Hill House is truly supernatural or point-of-view character Eleanor is simply insane is also rather perfect, both for the book and the genre as a whole, since readers will always be navigating the tension between those two interpretations. I would be remiss not to mention Mike Flanagan's loose adaptation, which like Kubrick's The Shining places more importance on the ghosts than on Hill House itself. Nonetheless, this was the series that paved the way for Midnight Mass and The Fall of the House of Usher (two of my favourite shows of all time), in addition to being incredible in its own right; the twists with the locked room and Bent-Necked Lady utterly blew me away. The show also manages to convey a similar sense to Negative Space , with the grown-up Crain kids forced into reckoning with their childhood trauma and lives they thought they'd escaped. "Nell's Last Dance", painting by SubHaanArt Make Our Escape Strangely enough, I think the moral I take away from this is something akin to 'life is what happens when you make plans': each of these malevolent places intrude into the lives of characters with reminders of trauma and weakness , forcing them to confront the past if they hope to continue living in the present. This even applies to Navidson and the House on Ash Tree Lane to some extent, presenting an unsolvable problem to him just as he becomes determined to settle down. I've said it a thousand times, but I probably still need to hear it more than you do: mindfulness can play a huge role in helping us through these situations, allowing us to take a breath and remember the progress we've made rather than spiralling and regressing. But more importantly, if you're anywhere near a genuinely evil sentient building or town, GTFO! Are there any evil places that have stuck with you from fiction? I'd love to hear about them! Thanks for reading and Happy Hallowe'en 🎃

Where is the line between symbiosis and parasitism? A Strange Confluence In September, I read Chelsea Vowel’s Buffalo is the New Buffalo  (2022) and Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness (1969) for two of my book clubs, and found that certain ideas presented by these books seemed to strike a discordant tone in my mind. I discussed The Left Hand of Darkness   a few weeks ago in conversation with Ann Leckie’s novels , but for today I’m mainly interested in the idea of the Ekumen – a confederacy of human-descended worlds guided by the eldest and most peaceful among them. The novel follows Genly Ai as he seeks to offer Ekumen membership or simply friendship to the people of Geth; not unlike the offer carried by the protagonists of each Star Trek series. Which is where tension arises with regard to Chelsea Vowel’s novel (an earlier version of this quoted section is available as an article online ): Science fiction as a genre “emerged in the mid-nineteenth-century context of evolutionary theory and anthropology profoundly intertwined with colonial ideology” ( Grace Dillon, 2012 ). These themes are exhaustively explored in whitestream science fiction, exposing particular settler colonial anxieties and aspirations that tend to erase or completely ignore the experiences and perspectives of Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour (BIPOC). In (re)imagining history, whitestream speculative fiction is particularly adept at repressing the violent histories of colonialism from the public imaginary ( David Gaertner, 2015 ). This does not mean that the topic of colonization is absent from science fiction—far from it (John Rieder, 2008). We find constant dichotomous reframing of settler colonials as agents of space-faring Manifest Destiny or the inevitable subjects of colonization at the hands (tentacles, squishy pseudopods, or furry appendages) of aliens (Daniel Heath Justice, 2018). Whitestream science fiction insists that colonialism is inevitable. It’s “us or them,” and it had better be “us.” ... Octavia Butler’s work expanded my understanding of what is possible in terms of speaking back to mainstream (and mostly white) visions of the past and future. Butler’s work never elides or pretends to solve racism, misogyny and misogynoir, ableism, homophobia, classism, or any other system of oppression. Neither do these structures forbid Black possibility; they exist as they do now, as constraints that must be contended with and resisted. This approach differs from that of popular mainstream science fiction, in particular, Star Trek: The Original Series and Star Trek: The Next Generation , in which it is imagined that in the twenty-third and twenty-fourth centuries, humans have somehow solved all of these structural oppressions. Star Trek “is so invested in its liberal humanist multicultural utopian vision, that it can’t reckon with the ways in which it replicates fundamentally oppressive and hierarchical power imbalances, especially through its promotion of Starfleet as a militaristic, interventionist (in spite of the Prime Directive) organization” (Molly Swain, 2019). Unsurprisingly, this vision of the future mirrors contemporary refusals to acknowledge structural oppression or to understand the intergenerational impacts of settler colonialism and the transatlantic slave trade. – Chelsea Vowel, Buffalo is the New Buffalo (2022) A long quote, I know, but I think Vowel offers fascinating and useful insights into speculative fiction as a whole in addition to today's topic. Vowel (and her quoted writers) clearly have a valid point regarding science fiction's origins as being heavily focused in colonialism, and to a certain extent I think that still rings true today – although I'd argue that many of my favourite series, including The Masquerade , The Imperial Radch , and The Siege , explore those themes thoughtfully and critically. All of which leads me to ask: where is the line between good faith community and poisonous imperialism? Does The Left Hand of Darkness ' ending promise hope, or doom? Covers of books mentioned above Poison & Parasitism I have to admit that for years when playing Sid Meier's Civilization V & VI , I never fully understood the Culture Victory, where you could simply win the game by exporting enough of your nation's art, ideology and media to the rest of the world. It helps that the games stick to simple descriptions of blue jeans and rock music, I suppose, rather than expressing the fundamental issue of what is being lost through cultural erasure. Three guesses as to the story that finally opened my – yeah, you got it in one. Seth Dickinson's The Masquerade shows imperial Falcrest actively seeking to undermine foreign nations and peoples by whatever means necessary. They offer miraculous trade deals (only in Falcresti currency), free education (in residential schools ), free medicine (which can be taken away once populations are dependent, and which sometimes target diseases Falcrest deliberately spread in the first place), and of course back all of this with domination over the seas so that other options are hard to come by. This is also the playbook for real-world colonialism and imperialism (if sometimes preceded by pacifying swords, guns, drone strikes or biological warfare). Even if the consequences aren't quite as dire as in The Masquerade or in the European arrival into the Americas, parasitic colonizers achieve their goals by ideologically and culturally infecting their hosts, with no care for what is lost along the way (except for what wealth and glory can be won by looting artifacts, perhaps). [I asked a couple of my friends to share some of their insights on this topic, and I'll link those here once I'm able. If you're getting this by email, you may need to click the title at the top to see the latest version.] "Arrival", showing humans arriving on Roshar, art by Kevin Sidharta Good Faith & Symbiosis Now might be a good time to admit that I'm not exactly sure where the line is between good vs. bad, community vs. colonialism, symbiosis vs. parasitism. I do think that, as with interpersonal relationships, a significant power imbalance is often a glaring red flag that boundaries may be crossed. Relationships between equals, on the other hand, are inherently more resistant to abuse. They can even give rise to systems like mutual aid , where communities come together to see to everyone's individual needs. That's the vision I've always had of the Federation in Star Trek , and I believe it's what Le Guin intended for the Ekumen in The Left Hand of Darkness as well. Let's face it, it's hard not to be inspired by Star Trek 's first contact , or the moment Genly's ship finally lands: She came down in a roar and glory, and steam went roaring up white as her stabilizers went down in the great lake of water and mud created by the retro; down underneath the bog there was permafrost like granite, and she came to rest balanced neatly, and sat cooling over the quickly refreezing lake, a great, delicate fish balanced on its tail, dark silver in the twilight of Winter. Beside me Faxe of Otherhord spoke for the first time since the sound and splendor of the ship's descent. "I'm glad I have lived to see this," he said. So Estraven had said when he looked at the Ice, at death; so he should have said this night. To get away from the bitter regret that beset me I started to walk forward over the snow towards the ship. She was frosted already by the interhull coolants, and as I approached the high port slid open and the exitway was extruded, a graceful curve down onto the ice. The first off was Lang Heo Hew, unchanged, of course, precisely as I had last seen her, three years ago in my life and a couple of weeks in hers. She looked at me, and at Faxe, and at the others of the escort who had followed me, and stopped at the foot of the ramp. She said solemnly in Karhidish, "I have come in friendship." To her eyes we were all aliens. – Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness Nonetheless, there are significant power imbalances in these first moments. Geth does have a unique resource (in their ability to prophesy) that the rest of the Ekumen will be very interested in – and even by the end of the book, Genly's understanding of the locals' genderlessness is haphazard at best. It's hard to say with certainty that the novel's ending is strictly positive; rather, it simply brings change and possibility. I also personally struggled to find answers in Buffalo is the New Buffalo , because while Vowel is dedicated to exploring Indigenous Futurism, they were also (almost) all still about colonialism to a major degree. I understand that it's impossible to separate Métis stories from their complex history, but suffice to say I was left more confused than enlightened. Painting by Paula Loomis End I don't know that there's much of a lesson to be learned here today, beyond remembering to think about media critically and having an open mind to perspectives different from our own. I also didn't expect to be able to draw such clean parallels between the relationships of nations/governments and those of people, but I suppose it is human nature all the way down. Do you know of any good examples of non-exploitative relationships between nations/governments/organizations, whether fictional or otherwise? Thanks for reading and until next time <3

A hellish journey in more ways than one Intro & Spoiler-Free Thoughts A few weeks ago, I wrote about celebrity culture and particularly how it has shaped cultural perceptions of R.F. Kuang , author of The Poppy War  trilogy, Babel , Yellowface  and the newly released Katabasis . I concluded that industry practices were mostly to blame for a lot of the negativity toward Kuang and her work, and that it is important for us to build our own lives, communities and opinions if we’re going to stay sane in this chaotic world. I think it’s important to restate that as a preface today, because upon finally reading the book it turns out I have very mixed feelings about Katabasis . In particular, half of this book seems like it was written by the Kuang I’ve come to know and love over the course of her other novels, while the remainder may as well have been written by someone else entirely. It’s not a matter of a certain POV or timeline or choice as is the case with many books I become so divided on; it simply reads to me like Kuang lost her driving spark of interest at a (very specific) point and from then on wrapped things up as rote and straightforwardly as possible. That’s not to say the first half wasn't enjoyable: Kuang is in her element with a fresh magic system and mysteries piled atop even darker mysteries. I think if you’ve liked her other books, you’ll like it. Just don’t go in expecting too much of the third act, and hopefully you won’t be disappointed. My experience of the novel may also have been influenced by hearing Kuang speak about it beforehand, in a conversation that spoiled me on a couple of significant moments which might otherwise have aided in my enjoyment of the text. So consider reading it before proceeding into spoiler territory with me. Cover of Katabasis , art by Patrick Arrasmith Summary & Spoilery Thoughts Katabasis  follows Alice Law and Peter Murdoch as they travel to Hell in search of their recently deceased professor and academic advisor, Jacob Grimes. The mere act of crossing the border between life and death costs them each half of their remaining lifespans, so they both must surely love the guy... right? Not so much, as it turns out. Both Alice and Peter secretly have reason to utterly despise their professor, both blame themselves for his death and both are here with ulterior motives. Peter's is at least noble, if idiotic: reach the mythical Lord Yama and trade his own soul for that of Grimes, out of love for Alice. Alice's is simply to bring Grimes back in a malformed semblance of life and torture him for as long as she can manage. They travel through Hell, spending some time debating about the physics of the plane and encountering the shades of souls making their own journeys through the afterlife. Kuang put a lot of thought into the first sections of Hell and it shows – especially when you compare it to the latter half, where the remaining Courts are simply deserts that Alice quickly meanders through on her way to follow the plot. Alice and Peter meet Elspeth, a former student of Grimes who has managed to eke out a long-term existence here in Hell. From her they learn about the Kripkes, infamous magicians who have similarly come to live in Hell but who do so by becoming predators, in contrast to Elspeth's clever survival techniques. The protagonists then betray Elspeth for no particular reason, end up stranded in a bad spot, and confess their stories to one another. And this is where the book loses me. Up until now, Alice and Peter's interactions had been dripping with tension and mistrust. Both characters had secrets, Grimes had his own mysterious aura, Hell itself was uncompromising and brutal. But all of that tonal work is suddenly burned away, like fog before the dawning sun, by having the characters exposit at each other for a few chapters. To be clear, I do empathize with both characters' stories. The book makes you think Grimes is going to be abusive in every way except that one to Alice, right up until he is abusive in that way as well, and it's awful. I was sadly spoiled on Peter having a disability, which led me to expect something fairly different from Crohn's, but obviously doesn't detract from his experiences (and those of Kuang's husband, on whom this was based). Technically the plot continues, I suppose. Alice and Peter get trapped again, this time he sacrifices himself for her at the very last second despite having hours or days to come up with the simple solution he ends up using. Alice travels to the City of Dis, then cleverly defeats the Kripkes using her torture spell and the River Lethe to great effect. Suddenly Elspeth reappears and gives Alice the incredibly powerful MacGuffin for no reason, which lets Alice go to Lord Yama, get Peter & her lifespan back, talk to Grimes' pathetic spirit and then bounce on outta there. Admittedly, the section in Dis was a nice (if brief and tangential) return to form for the book. Alice encounters a group of shades who are philosophically against reincarnation, and have instead committed themselves to vegetative states until the end of time. The whole city is also built on an economy of thesis-writing, which nonetheless seems just as doomed as the writing attempts being made in the first Court. Elspeth (before her random deus ex machina at the end) is another highlight, alongside the cat Archimedes who apparently finds his way in and out of Hell at his own whim. Likewise, the magic of paradoxes was a very fun idea – though I rarely found their use intuitive or believable, beyond having the effect needed for the plot at any given moment. The Lethe was also simply excellent, and I enjoyed the twist of Alice's tattoo interacting with it. On the other hand, it just sucks to see zero queer representation or cultural commentary (beyond academia) in this book. It reminds me a smidge of The Atlas Six , which might be the most excoriating thing I've ever said on this blog. Despite all the philosophical discussion within, Katabasis doesn't really even offer a helpful moral beyond the love and romance of it all. Alice's victory over the Kripkes feels somewhat earned, but her and Peter's love somehow ensuring their survival is laughable – as is Elspeth giving them the MacGuffin after they betrayed her, quite frankly. Alice and Peter, art for Fairyloot by polarts_ , picture from metamorphobooks Academic Hell In the interview I saw her give ( you can listen to it here ), R.F. Kuang illuminated a lot of the background behind Katabasis ' creation. She's currently pursuing her PhD alongside her husband, and is therefore bringing her own experiences in academia to the book. Her husband suffered severe health problems during a semester, which led to a long time which felt like literal hell to them both. She loves him, and this is partially a romance book dedicated to him and their relationship. What comes through strongest in the text, in my opinion, is her observations into the lives of postgraduate and particularly PhD students. In the interview, she describes a social understanding that students should be ascended beyond their bodily functions: that it is seen as virtuous to have missed a night of sleep or a day of meals in wholehearted dedication to one's studies. She portrays this beautifully in Alice and Peter, who are fraying at the seams long before they literally throw half their lifespans away. Kuang also describes this as being mostly performative, despite the perception. Grad students are only human, and that kind of behaviour will burn you out nearly instantly. She even says that many of the most successful grad students she's seen maintain physical hobbies like running or climbing, alternating their time between mind and body. And damn, I wish Alice and Peter had been able to reach this conclusion in the book. Instead, their enlightenment mostly pertains to their relationship with Professor Grimes; starting off worshiping him despite his gross misconduct and ultimately realizing he too was merely human (if not worse, an even bleaker Gilderoy Lockhart ). Kuang does also talk about the real world parallels, both in terms of academic celebrity and the danger of speaking out when your own name could come away even more tarnished. But given how absurdly much it took Alice and Peter to lose their rose-coloured glasses for Grimes, I have little confidence that they won't simply fall for the next authority figure who comes their way. Katabasis Illumicrate cover, art by Mary Metzger Conclusion Going into Katabasis , I was sure that Kuang's dedication to structure, logic and mystery would blow me away – even if she also wanted to throw a little romance into the middle of it. Surprised as that version of me would be to hear this, Hell Bent  remains my favorite students-go-on-a-rescue-mission-to-hell book. As I wrote earlier, my honest best guess is that between her studies, publishing contract, other projects and commitments, Kuang either lost a degree of interest or was highly rushed toward the end of writing this book. It's entirely possible that writing a more satisfying ending (from where she was) would have taken at least a thousand pages and someone begged her to keep it down to 560. Unbelievable as it is to me, maybe this even was her vision from the beginning. I gave this book 3/5 stars in my initial review , and at most I'm willing to bump it up to 3.5/5 today – the City of Dis and Kripke confrontation parts having made a better lasting impression on me that I had expected. If the good was more intermixed with the bad, I'd probably be quite a bit higher on it, but I just can't get around how much wonderful setup was thrown away by bland payoffs. If you want to read Kuang, start elsewhere. If you want to read Katabasis , I hope you have a better experience than I did! If you've read it and loved it, please enlighten me so I can share in your joy! Thanks for reading and until next time <3

As imagined by Ursula K. Le Guin and Ann Leckie Two Gender or Not to Gender For a long time, I've struggled to wrap my head around the idea that peoples' gender innately dictates their behaviour, interests, or frankly any aspect of their personality; in my head, we're all just people. I'm not just talking about 1950s-style 'traditional gender roles' and the asshats trying to bring them back. Even in extremely queer and welcoming spaces, so many aspects of a person are described in terms of gender. (I know some of this is ironic, but I'm also certain not all of it is.) Maybe it’s all in reference to societal expectations and understandings of gender (pink vs. blue into infinity), or maybe there are  aspects of people associated with the Divine Feminine and the Damned Masculine ( see this wonderful Chris Fleming bit ; I too am a Visitor washed ashore.)  Either way, I therefore greatly appreciate stories that reflect my own experiences where I can find them. Ursula K. Le Guin’s The Left Hand of Darkness  (1969) depicts a foreign man navigating and struggling to accept the genderless world of Geth. Almost fifty years later, Ann Leckie’s The Imperial Radch  trilogy (2013-2015) follows in Le Guin’s footsteps while also asking new questions. If you're interested in reading more about these themes, I've previously written about non-binary characters across speculative fiction , neopronouns in speculative fiction and have written twice directly about Ann Leckie's Imperial Radch novels , though I'm sure I've also referenced her work in at least half a dozen pieces. This is also an exciting moment to talk about Leckie and her Imperial Radch universe, as her new entry Radiant Star (2026) was announced just last week. Reading the burb already promises plenty more neopronouns, physics fuckery and adjacent vowels (how would you pronounce 'Ooioiaa'?), in addition to further exploration into the universe post-trilogy. In particular, Radiant Star will be our closest look at society within the titular Imperial Radch since the original trilogy, both Provenance (2017) and Translation State (2023) having depicted entirely new spaces. And it's predominantly the complex Imperial Radch that has done away with gender in Leckie's universe. Illustrations from The Left Hand of Darkness Deluxe Edition , art by Vanessa Lemen The Left Hand of Darkness The world of Geth, called Winter by foreigners, is brutally cold. This simple but inescapable fact of life has shaped its people (Gethenians) and their society in countless ways. Cities and monasteries are called Hearths and Fastnesses, daily calorie and nutrient intake is closely tracked for survival, and a certain degree of mindfulness is built into their very calendar: it is always Year One on Geth, with past and future rearranging themselves over time. But of course, Geth’s genderless society is the greatest difference from human life as we know it. (Gethenians and Earth humans share a common ancestor in Le Guin's world, though it's unclear which adaptations are a result of natural evolution and which came from genetic experimentation by those same ancestors.) In case it isn't clear, a genderless society is one where there is no distinction between male, female or any other gender. On Geth this isn't merely a social understanding: their bodies are fully androgynous and only develop sexual characteristics when needed to reproduce. By the same token, Gethenians' sex drives are contained to a short span of each month when they enter 'kemmer', which was inspired by some animal reproductive behaviours. The Left Hand of Darkness is as much about the implications of kemmer – of humans separated from constant sexuality – as it is about gender, but I'll save that discussion for a possible future post. Although there is no gender on Geth, Le Guin uses he/him/his pronouns for all Gethenians since it was the 'default' pronoun in English and introducing 'they' or a neopronoun (as David Lindsay had done in 1920 ) would mangle the novel's prose, though she later regretted that decision, stating that " The Left Hand of Darkness is haunted and bedeviled by the gender of its pronouns." And it's difficult to argue with that assessment. Combined with foreign protagonist Genly Ai's confusion and latent misogyny, the choice of pronoun does make it difficult at times to remember that this isn't an all-male cast. Illustrations from The Left Hand of Darkness   Deluxe Edition , art by Vanessa Lemen I'd posit that, at least in part, Gethenian androgyny is another adaptation to their harsh environment: in a biological sense they surely spend less energy on reproduction than humans, which seems essential when they're already counting every calorie. But in a social sense (and along with their inbuilt tendency toward mindfulness) it may also promote empathy in a world where competition could easily doom all parties to frigid deaths. Le Guin also examines the shape and behaviour of societies to a certain extent. Geth's two nations are locked in a Cold War-esque relationship, and visitor Genly Ai represents a Federation or United Nations -like interstellar government offering membership to either nation or preferably both. Politicians of different shades make up most of the cast, since Genly is here to negotiate. The character of Tibe in particular rings all too familiar today, promoting xenophobia and war in order to gather power to themself. These sociological elements were the most interesting parts of the book for me personally (along with the workings of the Handdara cult and the full meaning of the title), and as such it's hardly surprising to me that Ann Leckie also chose to focus on them in her novels inspired in part by Le Guin. 'A Ship Walks Into a Bar', scene from Ancillary Justice , art by Malicious-Monkey The Imperial Radch Ancillary Justice opens with gender confusion on a frigid planet of its own, in what has to be a love letter to The Left Hand of Darkness . Yet in this case it's the planet's people who have gender, and the envoy of the interstellar empire for whom it is a foreign concept. The reader sees protagonist Breq (/One Esk Nineteen/ Justice of Toren ) using 'she' for everyone, while other characters impose an occasional 'he'. Indeed, Leckie goes the opposite way of Le Guin by having every person in the Imperial Radch referred to by she/her/hers pronouns. It's a marked difference and one I highly appreciate, especially when I first read the book back in 2015. Le Guin was correct in that 'he' was/is sadly the default (especially in science fiction), and so the constant use of opposite pronouns in Ancillary Justice simply has a more powerful effect than was possible in The Left Hand of Darkness . Another difference: the Radch is genderless, but not sexless. Since there is no gender, it perhaps becomes easier to understand how biological sex has nothing to do with a person's gender in this society. (I might be confusing this detail with another series, but I'm fairly certain technology allows any two people to reproduce if they want to, regardless of the parts they were born with.) And even beyond the Radch, Leckie never states what signifies 'male' and 'female' mean about the people they describe, beyond the fact that it is rarely the same between one foreign world and another. Maybe there is one planet out there where having a penis means being male, but there are comparative thousands where specific fashion choices indicate gender far more straightforwardly. Breq and Seivarden in Ancillary Justice , art by Lauren Saint-Onge But as I've discussed previously, the Radch is far from utopian. This is a society built on untold suffering, conquering worlds and re-educating their surviving populations – after taking a certain percentage to act as zombie-like ancillaries for their AI warships. Even in the post-expansion Radch when war is a thing of the past, mutations in Emperor Anaander Mianaai eventually result in untold trillions of deaths leading up to and during the Radchaai civil war. Reading The Left Hand of Darkness concurrently with Chelsea Vowel's Buffalo is the New Buffalo (2022) led me to question my feelings about Genly Ai's offer of interstellar cooperation, because it is very difficult to draw the line between trade and colonization when the power imbalance is so extreme. It's therefore been incredibly rewarding to realize that Leckie quite possibly came to a similar conclusion, and that she wanted to explore that conflict of ideas in The Imperial Radch . As I wrote in the intro, I'll be fascinated to see how gender is handled in Leckie's forthcoming Radiant Star , which takes place in Radch space during or after the civil war. Will this particular planet stay true to Radchaai customs, revert to some previous understanding of gender, or reach forward to a new one? It certainly sounds like there are some characters using neopronouns, as has been common outside the Radch in Provenance and Translation State . Probably it will just be a nonissue, but I remain curious! Illustrations from The Left Hand of Darkness   Deluxe Edition , art by Vanessa Lemen Back Down to Earth Again, what I appreciate most about these stories is their depictions of humanity freed from our current understanding of gender and gender roles. The resulting images are quite different from each other: Le Guin's Gethenians feeling intimate and emotional whereas Leckie's Radchaai are often stiff and detached. (Both also being informed by their extreme environments, whether harsh winter or strict authoritarianism.) In our world where... [everything] is happening, I don't think we're going to flip a switch and remove gender anytime soon. But I think these stories offer an important reminder that, even if there are innate differences I don't know about, people of all genders are still just people! And hey, if you treat people like people, they might just treat you like a person too. Any other books/media you know of with genderless societies? I'd love to hear about them! Thanks for reading and until next time <3

On Canada's National Day for Truth and Reconciliation What Today is About Canada's National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, taking place annually on September 30th since 2013 (though prior to 2021 it was called Orange Shirt Day), is dedicated to memorializing the devastating impact of the Canadian Indian residential school system on Indigenous Peoples of Turtle Island . The horrors of these residential schools cannot be overstated. The Canadian Government and many Christian Churches set out with the explicit goal of destroying Indigenous cultures by forcefully assimilating younger generations of Indigenous Peoples into Euro-Canadian 'civilization'. Over 150,000 children were placed into residential schools between 1831-1997, at least 6,000 of whom died as a direct result of malnutrition, disease and experimentation. Of course, the number of people indirectly harmed includes not just every child but also their entire families and communities. I've brought up residential schools before , in the context of Seth Dickinson's The Traitor Baru Cormorant . While Dickinson is not Indigenous and their story is entirely fictional, Baru's experience of being ripped from her family and placed in a colonial school mirrors reality in a profound way that has helped me wrap my head around the historical fact. The National Day for Truth and Reconciliation is also a reminder of the 94 calls to action detailed in the 2015 report published by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, only a fraction of which have been implemented by the Canadian Government over the past decade. Compiled based on heartfelt testimony and rigorous research, these calls to action show the path toward healing and, quite simply, need to be followed through on. ( Minor spoilers for The Marrow Thieves ahead.) The Marrow Thieves , cover design by Angel Guerra The Marrow Thieves Cherie Dimaline's award-winning 2017 novel depicts a small group of Indigenous people struggling to survive against another attempt at genocide and cultural erasure. Climate change has wreaked havoc on this near future world, and along the way settler peoples have lost the ability to dream (in a way that seems to diminish their souls and ability to connect with other people and the world around them). Their solution has been to (lethally) harvest the bone marrow of Indigenous Peoples and use it to alleviate this condition. In a direct and brutal nod to history, Dimaline even calls these murderous institutions 'schools'. If you know me at all, you know I have very little patience or interest for modern books labelled 'young adult'. The Marrow Thieves is an incredibly refreshing exception on that front, with only a bit of its ending offering me any problems on that front. For the most part, this is a thrilling survival novel filled with lovable characters and overflowing with meaning that has only become more potent since I read it last fall. I read this book as part of my personal book club, where we also later read The Other Black Girl by Zakiya Dalila Harris. One of the most gut-wrenching scenes in The Marrow Thieves involves a pair of traitorous/collaborating Indigenous men taking advantage of the protagonists' trust in order to try to turn them in for a profit. Harris' novel goes deeper into the struggle between oppressed people fighting for equality and those who conform to power in order to get ahead. (I swear there's a subtle moment in the book which implies that the 'Recruiters' also sometimes take other people of colour who they mistake for Indigenous, but I've spent most of an hour looking and can't seem to find it. Was going to say it was strangely prescient about Indigenous Peoples being mistakenly targeted by ICE this year. But whether I imagined that detail or not, I think the comparison to current events is worth making.) The Marrow Thieves UK Edition, cover art by Chief Lady Bird What Is Survival? While The Marrow Thieves is foremost about the physical, bodily survival of its protagonists and their community, it also makes a point of demonstrating why that outcome isn't enough. As with the damage inflicted by the residential school system, the people and their culture are inextricably linked. Therefore in addition to seeking out shelter, supplies and allies, the younger protagonists also spend a significant portion of the novel learning language and stories from their Elders, Miigwans and Minerva, who are such great characters that they're almost worth the read on their own. This also adds to the group's yearning to find more survivors, since even Miigwans and Minerva only know and are able to impart a fraction of their culture. It's ultimately revealed that keeping their culture alive is the very thing that will finally allow Indigenous Peoples to fight back against the oppressive Recruiters and the forces supporting them. While the mechanics aren't clearly spelled out, we learn that by immersing themselves and dreaming in the language of their culture – Cree in this case – they are able to (explosively?) disrupt the tools of oppression and reclaim their own power. Frenchie from The Marrow Thieves , artbyjaafar And Every Day While September 30th might be dedicated to remembering these facts, it is also a call for us to take them into account as we move through every day of the year. Between stories like The Marrow Thieves and those we see on the news, it should be clear that evils like the residential school system are not simply a thing of the past. Trans people, Palestinians, immigrants and even journalists are among those in grave danger right now . Why not act now, instead of hoping to live long enough to see another day of Truth and Reconciliation created in their memory? Thanks for reading and until next time 🧡

Seeing fantasy come alive in nature Robin Hobb’s Elderlings It’s been a while since I’ve dived head first into a slightly older, lesser-known series, and what better reason to do so again than simply being inspired by the natural world around me. I’ve touched on Hobb’s epic 16-book Realm of the Elderlings  series once before, when I highlighted a particular leadership philosophy  that stuck with me. That piece focused on a small part of the Northern storyline, which I personally enjoyed much more thoroughly overall. Today I’ll be moving to a small part of the Southern storyline, which at first glance seems to have very little in common with its twin – besides apparently co-existing on the same fantasy world map. Where the Northern story mostly resembles a traditional fantasy story (complete with empathetic male protagonist, animal companions, deeply evil antagonists, multiple magic systems, political intrigue, action, romance and heartbreak), the Southern story greatly turns up the dials of intrigue, mystery and gray morality. Three of these (at first distinct) mysteries include: The fate of the mythical Elderlings, whose abandoned cities lie upriver The nature of ‘wizardwood’, the Liveships constructed from which become sentient beings The near-extinct Tangle of sea serpents searching for their memory keeper Over the course of The Liveship Traders  trilogy, readers gradually gain new insights into each of these questions and may even spot connections between them. But before I get into those answers, a word from Mother Nature.  Maulkin's Tangle, by Lux-Cortex Salmon Runs Despite having lived in Toronto all my life, I only really became cognizant of the annual salmon run along the nearby Humber River towards the end of the season last year. But now it’s back, and it’s been interesting to follow as it happens! A salmon run sees thousands of fish returning from the ocean to their spawning waters, swimming upstream and jumping up to 3.65 meters (12 ft) over obstacles such as waterfalls and weirs . Even aside from these incredible feats, the salmon must swim against the current for many kilometers on end, in fresh water which actively deteriorates them and provides much less food than they can find in the saltwater oceans. The fresh water catalyzes  physiological changes in the fish, essentially redirecting all available resources to ensure the salmon can reach its spawning waters and successfully reproduce there before quickly succumbing to exhaustion. As with each stage of their journey, the salmon’s ultimate death is itself incredibly important to maintaining ecosystems: the nutrients in their bodies sustain not just hundreds of other species but the very habitability of the terrain itself. But most impressive of all is the fact that (most of) these salmon return to the exact  place they were born four years earlier, despite spending the intervening years hundreds of miles away in the literal ocean. Many humans would still struggle with that, and we have GPS! Our best current understanding is that the salmon are somehow able to navigate the magnetic field and/or have incredible olfactory senses that allow them to return ‘home’. Still seems like pure magic to me! Sockeye Salmon during run, photograph by Ken Morrish Serpent Lifecycles Towards the end of The Liveship Traders  trilogy, readers learn that the answers to many mysteries arise from the life cycles of the sea serpents they had been following throughout. These intelligent creatures have been facing a horrifying existence, watching the sentience slowly fade in their kin as they fruitlessly search for one who remembers their true purpose after so many centuries. The answer ultimately comes in two pieces. First Maulkin’s Tangle encounters and converses with the Liveship Vivacia , who strangely feels like kin to the serpents despite being, y’know, a boat. Later, She Who Remembers  is freed from her long captivity and begins to lead the Tangle on their fated journey up the Rain Wilds River, around which all of the Southern story is based. It turns out that, much like salmon, the serpents are meant to traverse the river’s deadly (incredibly acidic in this case) current in order to reach the ancient Elderling cities where they can begin their metamorphosis to eventually become dragons.  Their cocoons, capable of withstanding centuries waiting for the right conditions, are revealed to be the source of the ‘wizardwood’ which animates Liveships and gives rise to what other magic remains in the South. (Hobb doesn’t miss on the allegory front: her Traders are literally hacking apart their world’s magic for the sake of capitalism.) Of course, this is also the reason Vivacia  felt like kin to Maulkin and vice versa: she is made from the memories and form of a cocooned serpent, but will never know the skies as Maulkin will post-transformation. (Though apparently dragons also don’t maintain their serpent personalities? It’s here I’ll admit that I skipped the Rain Wild Chronicles  series that continues the story from Liveship Traders .) Serpent, art by Spectre-Draws The Importance of Cycles Beyond the simple striking similarity of Hobb’s story to a real world phenomenon – somewhat unintentionally, as apparently she based her serpent/dragon cycle on dragonflies  (timestamp 11:05) rather than salmon – I think it’s a good reminder about the importance of many cycles in the world around us. Personally I’ve come to see many (social and psychological) cycles in a negative light: the dangers of feedback loops, echo chambers and Emilia Clarke-as-Daenerys saying ‘Break the Wheel’ come immediately to mind. But the cycles I’ve discussed today go a long way to showing how essential it is for many natural cycles to be allowed to continue without human interruption. Simply preventing salmon from travelling upriver could have a massive ecological impact, just as the interruption of the sea serpents’ lifecycle gave indirect rise to so much chaos, corruption and evil in Hobb’s story. Our planet is important! And it’s cool to see salmon jump so high. Thanks for reading and until next time <3