This is the first novel by Emma Torzs, but she is not a newcomer to the fantasy genre. She attended Clarion West and has written several short stories, including ‘Like a River Loves the Sky’ which won a World Fantasy Award in 2019.
I love books about magical libraries, and Ink Blood Sister Scribe has two of them. One is hidden in the basement of an old house in Vermont. The other is housed in an enormous mansion somewhere in England, and is large enough to be referred to merely as the Library. Both contain a collection of valuable books, written by Scribes over the centuries. Each book, when read aloud by a person who has inherited magical talent, performs a unique magic spell.
But the best part of Ink Blood Sister Scribe is actually the characters. There are the two sisters: Joanna who lives alone with her library in Vermont, protecting it and hiding herself with a daily reading of the codex that renews the wards; and Esther, who seems doomed to wander the world restlessly, somehow unable or forbidden to come home. In England are Nicholas, pampered and anemic under the protection of the Library as the last surviving Scribe, and his snarky but very competent bodyguard, Collins. They are all fully human, flawed and wonderful.
Surrounding them is the untold history of magic, full of lies and deception. Many magical traditions have been lost or stolen, and both libraries have their secrets, intertwined and deadly. At stake is the purpose and preservation of magic in the world. But while protecting the libraries and magic books is important, the plot centers beautifully on the lives and sacrifices made by the protagonists as they navigate the web of betrayal that links the two libraries.
One of the hardest things to do, I think, in writing middle grade fantasy, is to give children adventures where they are truly challenged but can still reasonably defeat some great evil. It’s even better if the young adventurers have to conquer something in themselves in order to succeed. In The Counterclockwise Heart both young protagonists must call on every bit of courage they have in order to save their countries. If the threats are maybe not as evil as the kids have been led to believe, then some of their battles must take place within themselves.
Alphonsus is the Prince of a country called Rheinvelt, adopted by the empress and her wife the imperatrix after being found as an infant in the castle walls. He has two huge secrets. One is his self-acknowledged cowardice, and the other is that the mysterious clock he has in his chest instead of a heart has begun running backwards. Esme is a sorceress, trained in exile by the remnants of magicians called Hierophants, and sent to Rheinvelt on a mission to kill the evil witch called the Nachtfrau. Esme is clever and ruthless, and also has a secret. The Nachtfrau is her mother.
The Counterclockwise Heart is a fairly complex story for middle grade, but it is told in straightforward prose that nevertheless does not speak down to children. As a plus, both Esme and Alphonsus have mothers, both of whom are important characters, just as brave and complicated as their children. In fact, everyone in the story has their own set of secrets and misconceptions, including the adults and the country of Rheinvelt itself.
The book won the Minnesota Book Award for Middle Grade Literature this year, a well-deserved honor. It should be read by middle schoolers of all ages. Brian Farrey has written two other Minnesota Book Award winners. One of them, With or Without You, also was a Stonewall honor book.
Noragami is one of my favorite manga/anime series. Kodansha Comics has been releasing an omnibus edition (three volumes in one), so all the early volumes (from 1 to 15, so far, with 15 to 18 on the way) are once again available. The series is still ongoing, with Volume 26 to be released in English soon. I have read all of them, some two or three times, and am still eager for the next one.
Noragami means, literally, stray god. Yato is indeed a stray, a young homeless god who whose very existence is precarious. Gods fade away when no one believes in them, and Yato has no temple and only one human follower—his “father”— the sorcerer who created him and has controlled him for decades.
Yato dreams of a crowd of admiring worshippers, and decides to set out on his own. But he finds the world a dangerous place, full of corrupted souls, angry gods and spiritual blight. He can barely survive, getting one believer at at time through advertising to the desperate on social media, always hoping to get a new client before the previous one forgets about their encounter with the divine.
When a high school girl named Hiyori saves Yato from being run over by a bus (which wouldn’t have hurt him at all) he finally finds another person who can remember him. But Hiyori has her own problems—the bus hit her instead, and her soul is no longer properly attached to her body. Together, the pair find a “pure soul,” a boy who has recently died and not yet been corrupted. Yato names him Yukine, which enables him to turn into a sword that Yato can use as a weapon against his enemies.
But Yato is still not safe. The three are beset by the consequences of Yato’s past actions, along with their own personal failings. They must navigate Yukine’s anger, Hiyori’s desire to remain part of the spirit world, and Yato’s boundless but fragile ego. They are at once hilarious, annoying, and endearing. And it seems Yato is willing to risk nearly anything to keep his new found family together.
What? You’ve never heard of the legendary pirate, Amina Al-Sirafi? Whose gold-toothed smile and enormous figure was the last thing seen by who-knows-how-many men? The nakhudha of the infamous ship, the Marawati, which roamed the Indian Ocean, stealing horses from the Emir of Hormuz, and setting fire to the customs house in Basrah, and poisoning an entire feast in Mombasa?
And who, of course, had the audacity to be a woman.
But now Amina Al-Sirafi has retired, or perhaps merely gone into hiding. She has a leaky house to maintain, and both an aging mother and a ten-year-old daughter to care for. She has a bad knee. Her trusted crew are either dead or likewise retired. Her ship is getting by, doing routine trading (smuggling and only a little piracy) and she has not been on it for years. She does not miss her old life. At all. Really.
Which is why she protests when forced to embark on a new and dangerous mission. But not very much. The story, told in her own irreverent and cynical words, unfolds as most adventures do. There are sorcerers, sea monsters, storms, and ancient legends brought to life. There is an alliance with an island of mythical creatures and a treacherous demon possibly-not-ex-husband. But underlying all of it is worry about her daughter and true concern for the lives of her crew, informed by the triumphs and tragedies of their shared past.
Amina Al-Sirafi is one of the best “strong female protagonists” I have read. She is an indomitable fighter, courageous and fearsome. But the way she chooses to fight, and what she chooses to fight for, is all female. She is lusty, foul-mouthed, contrary, stupidly brave, and without a doubt a woman.
This is another insightful fairytale by one of my current favorite authors. It begins with a poetic but rather dark tale—because it would be terribly uncomfortable to make a dog out of bones or a cloak of nettles — but the story quickly develops Kingfisher’s usual sideways, unexpected humor.
Our heroine Marra is a Princess, but the third-born one, scheduled for marriage only after her two older sisters wed. She is neither plucky nor beautiful. She is a short, shy girl who is good at embroidery and solitude. When she is assigned to a convent to keep her out of the way, she does not mind at all. She has never dreamed of Princes.
Which is just as well, because the Prince in this story is really not very nice. He has, one after the other, married her two older sisters, killing the first and using the second only to produce heirs. The middle sister is fighting a terrible battle against abuse, using pregnancy and the promise of a son as her only weapons.
There is certainly darkness around the edges of the story, but it is told through the eyes of Marra, who does not dwell on it. Her magic is ultimately of the practical sort enjoyed by women who, like Terry Pratchett’s witches, operate with a bit of knowledge, unshakeable good humor, and a lot of common sense.
I’ve been a fan of Francis Hardinge’s wonderful, morally complex novels for young adults since reading The Lie Tree, which won a Costa Book Award for Children’s Book (best novel by an author residing in the UK or Ireland) in 2015. Her novels have consistently brought a teen protagonist through an adventure which requires obtaining, not increased physical or mental prowess, but the maturity to make a difficult decision.
The young protagonist of Deeplight, Hark, is an orphan who has grown up (at age 15) to be a thief and con man, dealing in magical relics. He starts out as the typical street-kid-with-a-heart, but becomes much more interesting. He is joined eventually by Selphin, a young woman whose mother is a pirate, who also has unexpected steel in her moral fiber. She is, interestingly, “sea-kissed,” which means she has lost her hearing during undersea diving. There is a community of “sea-kissed” and most of Selphin’s conversations in the book take place in sign language.
Hardinge’s books all have unique fantasy worlds with interesting magic operating under unusual conditions. Deeplight is no exception. Its world is called Myriad, a huge chain of islands which had, until fifty years ago, been ruled by vast, Lovecraftian undersea Gods. They have left behind relics with incredible power, an economy which centers on harvesting those relics, and an abandoned priesthood aging on a deserted island.
And Gods also, of course, leave behind secrets for unsuspecting teenage protagonists to discover. The secrets of Myriad are layered and complicated, but well within the understanding of the people like Hark and Selphin, who can grow to treasure them.
This is a note to let you know that as of today, our flat-rate postage has gone up to $6.00. We stuck by our five-dollar rate through several rises in postage rates, but finally had to boost it.
As before, please contact us directly at dream@dreamhavenbooks.com to inquire about International shipping.
This is the story of three kids from Nola—an alternate, post-apocalyptic New Orleans, where music is magic, the dead drive taxis, and graffiti comes alive—who fight a great evil in the form of a devastating Storm. The Storm is Hurricane Katrina and also possibly a metaphor for generational trauma. It is eternal, but this time it is being brought about by a dangerous rogue Song and an undead bureaucrat. It is killing, one by one, all the other Songs whose magics power the city, and Nola is disappearing.
Perilous Antoine Graves is a young magician who is afraid of his budding power and his music. His sister Brendy, is young enough to have that childlike, illogical ability to see the truth. Perry’s best friend, Peaches, is a semi-magical girl who is very strong and virtually indestructible (and who seems to be based on Astrid Lindgren’s Pippi Longstocking). Perry is probably in love with her. They are sent on a fairytale-ish quest and must find the courage to make the right choices even when it is not clear what they are choosing between.
The kids are not the only people whose choices effect the Storm. There is Casey who has different lives in different cities, Jaylon who first makes graffiti live, Mama Lisa the Wise Woman, and the ghost of Lafcadio Hearn. They are aided or hindered by the embodiments, or perhaps performers, of the archetypal Songs. But unlike in European fairy tales, they can rely on their family and the songs that are their history and heart. And everyone seems to know that there are no real grown-ups, only big kids, pretending. Everyone has room to grow.
The writing is as magical as Nola. Alex Jennings jumps seamlessly between street dialog and prose with the cadence of myth and music. A quote might be the best description.The kids have never ridden a “dead taxi” before, and perhaps it should be scary. But this is the description of its arrival, from page 157: “Perry heard hoofbeats clopping down the street. The sound didn’t seem quite right to him, though. It sounded—not dishonest, not exactly—but like it was pretending to be hoofbeats so as not to worry anyone.”
The author’s acknowledgments state that he was challenged to write “the Blackest fantasy he could concoct.” I think he succeeded, and now there is a new version of my childhood heroine, who is strong enough to carry a horse, and confident enough to believe her Pirate King father into existence, and has become indisputably Black.
Minicon is put on by the Minnesota Science Fiction Society every year during Easter weekend. This is the 56th year of Minicon. DreamHaven’s very own Greg Ketter is fan guest of honor! Below are scans of this year’s flyer for Minicon. If you would like to know more about Minicon, please visit www.mnstf.org/minicon56
I couldn’t get the formatting to work, so I divided this post and added another title!
Magic Teacher, by Rui Sekai and Kyou Kitazawa The actual title (I Got Fired as a Court Wizard so Now I’m Moving to the Country to Become a Magic Teacher) is way too long, and pretty much sums up the plot so far. But I love the trope of the older, quietly powerful mage put in charge of a class of delinquent but brilliant students. This first volume introduces a cute middle-aged mage, his adorable (also middle-aged!) female student teacher, several disdainful and aristocratic faculty members, and an assortment of students with wonderfully ridiculous goals and talents.
Thunderbolt Fantasy, by Gen Urobuchi and Yui Sakura This is a manga adaptation of one of the most unusual recent Japanese series; a saga set in China, written by Gen Urobuchi (of Madoka Magica and Fate/Zero fame), and “animated” by Pili, a Taiwanese puppet theater. For a puppet show, it is surprisingly intricate. And violent—my anime-watching group called it “Murder Puppets.” So far, the new manga follows the first season of the serial closely, though the costumes are less spectacular. The plot has everything you might want in a fantasy—ancient sects guarding magical items, loyalty, betrayal, sword fights to the death, and an ancient evil awakening. It requires an enormous cast of heroes and sorcerers, both male and female. It also offers, not one, but two enigmatic and powerful young men who may or may not be on the side of righteousness. The one on the cover of Volume One is called (appropriately) “Enigmatic Gale,” but for now his name is Gui Niao.
Touring After the Apocalypse, by Sakae Saito Youko, a young girl who is apparently the last living human, is on a motorcycle tour of a ruined Japan, accompanied by her cyborg guardian, Airi. She is oddly cheerful and entirely free of worry for her own safety. Her excitement about the places she discovers, all famous Japanese destinations, contrasts with the desolate landscapes depicted, making a bittersweet and wonder-filled story.
The Saviour’s Book Cafe Story in Another World, by Kyouka Izumi and Reiko Sakurada A middle-aged woman is transported to a fantasy world where she is given magic powers and ordered to become a heroic savior. She decides to use her new powers to open a bookstore/cafe to her exact specifications. Judging from the cuteness of her first few customers, there may be a lot more romance that heroism in store, but those of us who believe in the power of bookstores will likely be heartened by their ability to cope with whatever evils need to be fought.
Even after decades of watching every Hayao Miyazaki film that I could get my hands on, I hadn’t realized that he was a peerless artist who began his career as a manga writer and illustrator. Shuna’s Journey, his third manga, was published in Japan in 1983, just before he launched Studio Ghibli, which produced some of the best animated films in the world. This is the first time it has been translated into English.
Those of you who have seen Miyazaki’s films will recognize some of the elements. There is a wide-eyed but tenacious young man who goes on an epic journey to follow a dream. He is eventually joined by an equally wide-eyed, gently ferocious young woman and her sister. They ride an oddly familiar animal through desolate landscapes, parts of which can be recognized in some of the later films.
For those who have not seen ‘Laputa: Castle in the Sky,’ ‘Nausicaa,’ and ‘Princess Mononoke’ (to name a few), this book will be a wonderfully strange and inexplicable journey. Miyazaki uses a different sort of storytelling, in which the characters accept the unknown without question while holding tightly to their own, essential selves. There is a certain wisdom in finding that everything does not need to be explained.
This hardcover book is read front-to-back like a manga, but every page is a gorgeous full-color illustration. There are no word balloons, just simple text telling a story which could be read aloud to a child. The illustrations tell a slightly different story though, less heroic and somewhat melancholy, hinting at past disasters and future hopes. It is a book to be examined over and over, an experience which grows the more you pay attention to it.
This is Ryka Aoki’s first genre SF/F novel, though she has published one previous novel and two poetry anthologies (both finalists for the Lambda Award). She is a trans woman of Japanese descent, a musician (including violin, of course), a professor of English and gender studies, and holds a black belt in Judo. Light from Uncommon Stars was a finalist for the 2021 Hugo Award.
The story is an intersection of three unlikely people: Katrina Nguyen, a runaway transgender teen, is a violinist with a deep understanding of music but almost no training. She will find the teacher she needs in Shizuka Satomi, also known as the Queen of Hell, who has already raised six violin prodigies to both fame and tragic endings. They both find comfort at the Starrgate Donut Shop where, beneath a giant donut, Lan Tran is leading her odd family or, really, alien starship crew, in the pursuit of making the best donuts on Earth.
The formula for producing excellence in both music and donuts is not, as it turns out, very different. Both require practice, perseverance, and a willingness to explore the tiny differences in each performance that is the basis of a human connection with an audience. That resonance also requires hope, self-acceptance and, possibly, love. But before they can bring their unique talents to fruition, Katrina must deal with her abusive past, Lan Tran has to finish the stargate she is constructing inside the giant donut, and Shizuka has a literal appointment with a demon from Hell.
It shouldn’t work to have aliens, demons, and violinists in the same book, but it does. Beautifully.
Babel is an extraordinary book: It is outstanding in its intelligence, precise prose, and undeniably new and creative system of magic. It is the story of the fall of the Tower of Babel at Oxford University and, perhaps, the beginning of the fall of the British Empire and the reign of the English language.
The Tower in the book is the Royal Institute of Translation, standing at the center of Oxford University in 1828. Its exalted students learn the theory of language, the art of translation and, ultimately, the use of translation in magic. In this world, magic occurs in the gaps between the shades of meaning of the same word in two different languages, inscribed on each side of a bar of silver. To find the word pairs and activate the magic, an intimate knowledge of both languages is mandatory.
Babel is the story of Robin Swift, born in Canton, China and brought to England by a stern, distant guardian after the death of his mother. He joins three other brilliant and obedient young people who have shown an ability to learn the important languages—Greek, Latin and English—along with their own native tongue. The British Empire is expanding its boundaries and, together with trade alliances and all the world’s silver, it is scooping up languages. The successful few magician translators at Oxford can enjoy all the comforts of empire.
But Robin and his friends—two foreign men and two women—will never be truly accepted into society, despite their standing as student magicians. They also might not want to be a part of the system that trained them, no matter the benefit to themselves. They must learn the truth of the phrase, “An act of translation is always an act of betrayal.”
On the surface, this book looks like just another rousing adventure for the video game generation. The First Emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang, fails to take over the body of twelve-year-old, Chinese immigrant Zack, and instead manifests in his video game AR glasses. Zack is rapidly joined by two other young people who are inhabited by two different ancient Chinese emperors. The three (or six, really) set off on an exciting quest through Chinese mythology.
I have to admire the skill of the author in providing background information about Chinese history and culture. Xiran Jay Zhao is a first-generation Hui Chinese immigrant to Canada, and has an extensive knowledge of both China and the way all things Chinese are overlooked by Western school systems. They are also hilarious. Like, how can you not read a chapter titled “How the Creation of China was Exactly Like American Idol” or “How Chinese Sherlock Holmes and Chinese Leroy Jenkins Can Help a Museum Heist”?
But what sets the book apart for me is the moral ambiguity that becomes apparent as the story progresses. All three Chinese emperors historically did great things, but also initiated heinous acts of murder, betrayal, and genocide. (One does not unite the Seven Warring States, as the First Emperor did, into an enduring nation called China without deaths. Lots of them.) As with most good books written for middle school, the protagonists are faced with difficult moral choices. But in this story, the kids must also learn that good and evil exist side by side, and sometimes cannot be separated from each other.
I’ve been a fan of Holly Black since before The Spiderwick Chronicles was made into a movie, which was quite a long time ago. Her books are usually quirky, edgy, occasionally dark fantasy, aimed at a young adults audience. Book of Night is her first novel marketed for adults.
Charlie Hall is a young woman who is trying to reform her past as a child thief and con artist, by working as a bartender at a shady tavern. This is working out about as well as such things usually do, which is . . . not very well. So it takes only the murder of a total stranger to hurl her back into a dangerous, magical world that wants her for past crimes and suspects her of present ones.
Charlie’s world works on shadow magic, using interchangeable human shadows which can be molded into decorative playthings or corrupted into powerful beings. The magic system is unique, sinister, and oddly limited, so that the most menacing thing in the book is the magicians and not the creepy magic they use. There is plenty of suspense, but no lurking horror, though I admit that, once I’d picked it up, I had to read all the way through to the end.
