We’re doing the first two weeks of the year at once because whoops, I fell behind!

Books Read

1. Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo: Technically this is a holdover from 2022, because I hadn’t finished it by the time the new year arrived. I read the last two-thirds in 2023, so it definitely counts! I’ve really enjoyed watching Bardugo grow as a writer over the years — I’ve been reading her work since Shadow and Bone came out, and she leveled up hard with this book. It could have used a little trimming, but overall it’s fast-paced, fun, and horrifying!
2. The Empress of Salt and Fortune by Nghi Vo: Such a poignant read, in such a limited space! I really enjoyed Vo’s Siren Queen last year, so when I remembered I had this on my Kindle, I was delighted! I was surprised by how much emotion and how much worldbuilding Vo was able to pack into about one hundred pages, and by how lovely the writing was. I’m going to have to read everything she’s ever written.
3. Goldilocks by Laura Lam: I wanted to like this book much more than I actually did. The set-up — in a world wracked by climate change, and slowly giving into misogyny, five women scientists push back against the industry that sidelined them and steal a spaceship bound for a new exoplanet. Such a great premise, but hampered by flat narration, and characters that seemed to develop in fits and starts, rather than in arcs. I liked the overall message of the book — that you can’t run away from your problems, but that you can build community and try to fix things — but it was a bit of a letdown.
4. She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan: Oh this one left me bruised!!! Well, more like my heart was put through a garlic press, if I’m being honest. It’s such a brutal alternate history of how the Ming dynasty came to be, with the characters all so damaged and flawed and hurt and brilliant and hungry for some stability or safety — and then there’s General Ouyang, who seems himself as nothing but a tool and not a person with agency who is allowed to want, and — yeah. The writing is gorgeous, and the book will melt your brain. I can’t wait for the sequel.
5. Deathless Divide by Justina Ireland: I said it on my Goodreads review but — Ireland only knows how to write absolute bangers. It’s been a while since I read Dread Nation, so I forgot a bunch of the subplots, but they came roaring back as I got further into this book. One of the biggest strengths of Dread Nation was Jane’s amazing first-person narrative voice, and that’s still present here — spunky, smart, brash, kind — but now it’s tempered by Katherine taking her time in the spotlight, with a controlled, proper, formal narration that carries so much of the weight of character development. Oh, and the zombies are still terrifying! Ireland gracefully handles issues of racism, colorism, and sexism, while still highlighting reasons to hope and keep fighting. So brilliant!
6. The Last House on Needless Street by Catriona Ward: Now this was a creepy story. I haven’t read any of Ward’s books before, but I’ll definitely check out more of her work. The premise is great — a man, his daughter, and their talking religious cat all live in a house near the woods, avoiding people and rarely going outside. There are gods in the forest and boys in the attic, and a lake nearby where children keep disappearing. It’s a very slippery story, that moves from unnerving and horrifying to witheringly sad by the end. If you’re looking for something spooky, I would definitely give this a try (though please note that there are…a lot of applicable content warnings, including animal death/animal cruelty, though very little is graphic, and a lot of graphic child abuse).
7. My Year of Meats by Ruth Ozeki: I’ve had the same experience with both Ozeki books I’ve read (the other being A Tale for the Time Being) — I start off not feeling impressed or all that interested, but then I blink and suddenly am one hundred pages in and utterly fascinated. Her writing has such an understated cleverness, but she’s not trying to show off or play tricks on the reader. There’s a lot of underlying compassion, no matter what she’s writing. This book, published in 1999, has not aged well in some respects, because how we talk about race, gender, and other social justice issues has evolved, but it’s a useful signpost for how far the conversation has come. It’s worth reading for the way Ozeki contrasts the very literal journey of meat with fertility, motherhood, family, and identity. Not for the squeamish: the last quarter of the book has an extended sequence in a slaughterhouse that does not flinch away from the filth and brutality of the industry that feeds us. NOTE: I actually finished this book on 01/15/23, but since I read most of it the day before, I’ll count it in the 01/01/23-01/14/23 reading round-up.

I’m a little over ten percent of the way to my reading goal for the year; I don’t think I’ll keep up this pace for the rest of the month, let alone the year, but it’s nice to clear out the TBR piles a bit! Here’s hoping I can slow down on buying books for a while, so that reducing the TBR piles actually counts for something!