Book Review: Perdido Street Station

Posted on September 19, 2026 by erictaveren

Welcome back for another book review. I want to start this one off with a bit of context, because unlike some of my other reads, I didn’t come into Perdido Street Station with any prior attachment. No familiarity with China Miéville, no knowledge of Bas-Lag, not even a vague sense of what I was getting into.

This was a recommendation—specifically because of a novel I’ve been working on that deals with dreams and planes of existence. Apparently, this was in my wheelhouse.

Based on the cover and title alone, I assumed something grounded. Maybe real-world adjacent. A touch of magical realism, perhaps.

Nope.

Not even close.

What even

this book?

I’m still not entirely sure I can answer that cleanly.

The best way I’ve been able to describe it is this: if a metropolis is a melting pot of people and cultures, then Perdido Street Station is a melting pot of genres. It pulls from everywhere—fantasy, sci-fi, horror, weird fiction—and just… lets them all exist together.

You’ve got:

AI
demons
bio-modification
hybrid species
political intrigue
and things I still don’t quite have names for

And none of it feels like it’s trying to justify itself. It’s just there. Part of the fabric.

One of the biggest differences between this and most fantasy I’ve read is that there’s no softening of the edges. Fantasy often leans into escapism. This book does not. The darker aspects of city life—sex work, violence, exploitation, harm—aren’t implied or backgrounded. They’re present. Casual, even.

There is no escapism here.

New Crobuzon as a living place

What stuck with me most about New Crobuzon wasn’t just how strange it was—but how logical it felt.

The city has a distinct regionality to it. Different areas shaped not just by economy, but by religion, ambition, history, reclamation—layers of cause and effect that mirror real-world cities like New York or LA. It feels built over time, not designed all at once.

There are moments where Miéville introduces entire chunks of history or concepts—a war, a forbidden chemical, some piece of infrastructure—and then just… moves on.

No payoff. No return.

And weirdly, that works.

Because that’s how real cities function. There are things baked into the bones of a place that you don’t fully understand, but they still shape everything around them.

That said, part of me did want some of those elements to loop back around, even in small ways. Not everything needs to matter to the plot—but I wouldn’t have minded seeing more of those threads resurface.

Characters (and a few frustrations)

I resonated most with Isaac. He’s an ideas guy. Knows a bit about everything, constantly chasing concepts, theories, possibilities. That clicked for me immediately.

Lin was interesting—until she wasn’t. Early on, she feels like her own person, fully realized and independent. But once things start going sideways, it felt like her role shifted in a way I wasn’t expecting. Not quite a full “fridging,” but adjacent enough that it stood out.

Yagharek is… complicated. For most of the book, he’s an enigma with clear goals and a withheld truth. And then the last portion of the book reframes him entirely. I wasn’t expecting that resolution, and I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it—which might be the point.

The only character moments that really didn’t land for me were with the mayor and the crime lord. Both make snap decisions and then stubbornly refuse to engage with any logic that contradicts them. I understand emotional decision-making, but given their positions, it felt off. Like they should be more calculated than that.

Prose: adjustment required

Miéville’s prose and I did not get along at first.

I tend to prefer accessible writing, and the opening descriptions had me worried I was in for a long, dense slog. But once the perspective shifted to Isaac and the world started populating with its… inhabitants, my reaction changed.

Not necessarily to comfort, but to acceptance.

At a certain point, I just rolled with it.

There are stretches—particularly in broad environmental descriptions—where the prose gets dense. Not unreadable, but heavy. For me, with aphantasia, those sections didn’t always land as intended. I could appreciate the craftsmanship, but the imagery didn’t fully translate.

Where the writing did hit was in the more grounded, horrific details.

The parts that stick

The remade.

That’s what stuck.

The idea of punishment through forced bodily modification—people reshaped into tools, into warnings, into something less than human. And not just the concept, but the examples. The woman whose baby died. The people turned into objects for others’ use.

It’s messed up.

Deeply.

And those moments linger.

There are very few books where I actively think, “Yeah, this is not for everyone,” and mean it as strongly as I do here. I told my wife outright—this is a hard no for her. Harm to children, to vulnerable people, to animals—if that’s a line for you, this book crosses it. Repeatedly.

Craft talk: Worldbuilding as excess (and intent)

I wasn’t planning on diving into craft here, but it’s hard not to with this book.

So let’s talk about worldbuilding density.

A lot of advice around worldbuilding focuses on restraint:

don’t over-explain
don’t info-dump
only include what serves the story

Perdido Street Station does not care about that advice.

It builds outward instead of inward. It layers idea on top of idea—some relevant, some not, some that feel like they should matter but don’t. And instead of tightening the narrative, it expands the world.

Normally, that would be a problem.

Here, it feels intentional.

Because the goal isn’t just to tell a story—it’s to make New Crobuzon feel like it exists beyond the page. A place too big, too complex, too messy to ever be fully understood.

Did I want more payoff from some of those elements? Yes.

Did the lack of payoff contribute to the sense that this world doesn’t revolve around the protagonist?

Also yes.

And that’s a trade-off I can respect.

Final thoughts

Perdido Street Station is not an easy read. It’s dense at times, unsettling often, and uninterested in making you comfortable.

But it is fascinating.

If you love deep, layered worldbuilding—if you like your fantasy weird, expansive, and unafraid to get ugly—this is absolutely worth your time.

If you’re looking for escapism, or if graphic depictions of harm are a dealbreaker, this is one to skip.

As for me, I’m still not entirely sure how to categorize it.

But I’m very glad I read it.

2025 Reading Recap

Posted on December 29, 2025 by erictaveren

It’s that time of year again. Time to look back at all the things I’ve read, think about all the time I spent not playing video games or writing or Lego or doing things with my family. If I manage to finish my current read I’ll be at 36 for the year. Not as much as last year, but I’ve had considerably less free time this year.

Here’s a breakdown (in roughly the order in which they were read) with a quick snippet of my thoughts:

The Brightness Between Us by Eliot Schrefer.

The sequel to The Darkness Outside Us provides a before and after of the events of the first book. It’s tragic in that you can (intentionally) see downfall and heartbreak coming, and hopeful in that love will always find a way.

Berserk, Volumes 2-11, by Kentaro Miura

I watched the animated movies a few years back and when I saw these giant tomes on my library’s shelves, I had to see what it was about. If you enjoyed the world of Berserk, it was nice to see the larger story. But oh dang is it gory and rapey and it does nothing to romanticize either of those traits. At points I wanted to be done with it, but as with many stories, I wanted to see how it played out (though I have stalled out at Vol 11).

Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson

Probably my top book of the year, this did a better job than its predecessors in its integration of characters’ physical and mental impairments. Prior books seemed to err on over explanation when the risk of overlooking aspects was present. This book relied more on connotative readings than denotative explanations, which I very much appreciated.

The Wild Robot by Peter Brown

I started reading this to my kid before bedtime and it was refreshing to experience the innocent experiences of the robot and its understanding of the new world around it. Heartbreak was real and natural, and it never felt like it was trying to teach a lesson even though it very much was.

Tripwire by Lee Child

At this point in my life it’s hard to truly surprise me with an earned plot twist. Tripwire toed the line between earned and unearned, but the resolution was satisfying enough that I didn’t care. This felt like the third in a trilogy as opposed to number three of many, so I’m curious as to how number four presents itself.

The Memory of Souls by Jenn Lyons

I’ve said before that Jenn Lyons is a fantastic world-builder, and this book only further reinforces that opinion. Hints and offhand comments from prior books become important and narratively impactful in ways that continually impressed me. While this series (like Sanderson’s Stormlight) falls victim to heavy-handed ethics explanations, this book did a good job of presenting issues in a more natural manner.

The Broken Eye by Brent Weeks

As with the prior two Lightbringer books, Brent Weeks once again makes me want to hate him. The last two books each introduced a concept that I’d already been planning on using in stories of my own. So did this one. But my hatred is a joking hate. I really enjoy the books, and The Broken Eye was a great stepping stone into wider stakes for Kip’s world.

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon by Stephen King

Many years ago I bought a pop-up version of this book. It was adapted from the original by another writer, though King’s name was still on it. I wanted to give the actual book a go and, as always, I’m super impressed by and envious of Stephen King. This is a great personal stakes story which blurs the line between reality and psychosis/terror, and I will always be drawn into a story with a good baseball hook.

The Blood Mirror by Brent Weeks

Finally, a Brent Weeks book that doesn’t preemptively steal my ideas :) I’m writing this after finishing the whole series, and it’s safe to say this was the book that struggled the most, but as with any book that advances weeks or months between chapters, there’s a lot of room for lost investment. It wasn’t a bad book, but I was definitely ready for the next one (which was as good as the previous ones).

Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders

Weird. Just… weird. I love the idea of working real history into a story, and Saunders does a great job presenting the history—both the actual accounts and his fictionalized ones—so that I couldn’t always tell which were real and which weren’t. I listened to the audiobook for this one, and Nick Offerman really brought some fun life into all the death.

Amulet, books 1-4, by Kazu Kibuishi

Another before bedtime read with my kid. I can see why these are so popular and are in so many classrooms I visit. The story and stakes are both serious and heavy, but not so oppressive that my second-grader is dissuaded from reading it. These books made me want to write graphic novels.

The Lightning Thief by Rick Riodan

I’d never read this growing up, though I’d watched the movies (where my crush on Alexandra Daddario started) and the new TV show. My wife kept saying how funny the books were so this was another bedtime read with the kid. I think watching it first made some of the twists less surprising. But I also think it’s written as early YA for a reason. What’s predictable and tropey for me will be novel for younger readers.

White Sand by Brandon Sanderson

As with all Sanderson, fun concept and fun magic. I think the medium of graphic novel missed the mark though. Even taking into the account that I can’t picture things in my mind and that visual mediums are super intriguing to me, there were so many times reading this that I thought it’d work better as a traditional novel.

A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas

The worst of the ACOTAR books by far. The only reason I continued to read was because Cassian needed a better ending and I really wanted it to happen. Nesta’s whole arc was forced and she was a terrible character. Any by that I don’t just mean her character was a terrible person (which she was) but that the presentation was done terribly (which it definitely was). The massive increase in explicit sexy times wasn’t enough to make up for Nesta being Nesta.

Billy Summers by Stephen King

I have a friend who is convinced that everything Stephen King writes is straight horror. Or, he was and now only claims that to bug me. This is a great King story that shows how great of a character writer King is. There’s only the barest hint of the supernatural toward the end, and it was more of a nod than real story integration. Billy Summers is a good bad guy and a bad good guy and the whole book is him figuring out which one of those he is.

The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

I want to praise the book without spoiling the ending. I only figured it out about halfway through, which is high praise from me. And as someone who primarily reads sci-fi and fantasy, the fact that a story set entirely in mundane reality was able to engage me says a lot about its effectiveness.

The Burning White by Brent Weeks

The Lightbringer finale. As with most fantasy books, there’s an epic battle. I feel like the one battle was a third of the book. And that’s not a bad thing. At this point there are so many characters the reader has become invested in that each of their roles in that battle are equally emotionally important and so instead of one long tiresome battle, it feels like a whole bunch of smaller arc climaxes all climaxing together. Yeah, I know how that sounds. I said what I said.

Isles of the Emberdark by Brandon Sanderson

This was a fun journey back to a great Sanderson short story. Unfortunately, the book seemed like a vessel to introduce a character/set of characters into the greater Cosmere as opposed to a solid narrative of its own. There are two main POVs, and I don’t think either got the time they deserved or that we needed.

The House of Always by Jenn Lyons

The fourth in the Chorus of Dragons series, the narrative is presented much like the others, in real-time as well as personal accounts of past events. In this book Lyons really starts to weave together many of the until now disparate characters, especially since most of them are forced to be in the same physical space for a majority of the real-time narrative. This was less world-building heavy than the prior books, and more character driven.

The Book Thief by Mark Zusak

I read this because of a recommendation pertaining to the book’s narrator: Death. A YA WWII book following the life of a young German girl, it was a presentation of events I’d not seen before. There are tons of books from the Jewish perspective or an American perspective, but this was the first I seen about a young German. There were some fun narrative tricks and strategies that paid off well by the end.

The Dragonbone Chair by Tad Williams

Given that this book is almost as old as I am, it’s hard to know what was innovative and what is just trope regurgitation. I’ll give the benefit of the doubt and say that some of the concepts were novel. With that assumption, my biggest criticism is that it took forever to get going. It’s a long book, and the first half felt like exposition forced into a narrative. It was early mainstream fantasy though, and the genre was still trying to figure things out.

The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula K. Le Guin

If you’ve ever come across the idea of making a wish from a genie but not being specific enough and things go horribly awry, this is that story but without magic. Well, without that label. It was a fun, quick read that was fueled by a concept and the ethics surrounding it. My kind of story. :)

A Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon

I criticized Dragonbone Chair of starting too slow and gave it a pass because of when it came out. This book doesn’t have that excuse. There’s fantastic world-building and eventually it paid off, but it took a little bit to get there.

That’s 2025. In 2024 I noticed a reading trend: time-travel stories. Very straightforward and blatant. This year was less straightforward. But if there’s any sort of through line it’s that I read books that focused on how their worlds worked—ethically, structurally, emotionally—and that I had little patience for stories that confused explanation with depth.

My current read is Kindred by Octavia E. Butler and waiting in the wings is How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe by Charles Yu, so we’ll see how those influence what’s to come in 2026.

Abbreviated Books Reviews Pt. 2

Posted on January 2, 2025 by erictaveren

I ended 2023 with over 50 books read. I decided that if I was reading that much I’d be able to write a fair amount of regular reviews. That didn’t play out as I’d hoped. Between welcoming a new baby, becoming a stay at home dad, and starting thesis for my MFA, I’ve had not nearly enough time. That being said, I did manage to read 41 books this year, a bit shy of my 50 book goal. Here are my thoughts on those I’ve read since my last update.

(in order of least to most recent)

The 7 1/2 Death of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton

Of all the books on this list, this was by far my favorite. I was a little apprehensive at first as the protagonist begins with amnesia, which is a trope I hate. But as soon as the reason for the amnesia was revealed I was all on board. It’s a crazy time travel mystery that I’ve been recommending to everyone, no matter what they normally read. It’s that good.

Escape from a Video Game: The Secret of Phantom Island by Dustin Brady

Every night I do a half hour of reading with my kid before bedtime. We grabbed this at the library since he likes video games and Choose Your Own Adventures. For a six-year-old, it was engaging, especially the puzzles where you have actual worksheets to fill out and keep track of your progress. For adults, there’s a fair amount of nerdy humor thrown in there to keep things entertaining for you as well.

Shuna’s Journey by Hayao Miyazaki

Another bedtime book, I also picked it because I’m a huge Miyazaki fan. It’s a graphic novel, so it’s a pretty quick read, and while the concepts were understandable for my son, I think the gravity of the situation won’t be appreciated until he’s a few years older. I wasn’t a huge fan of the ending, but if you like Nausicaa you’ll probably like this.

The Strange Case of Origami Yoda by Tom Angleberger

My kid likes this one enough that he got the whole series for Christmas. Some of the social situations are more appropriate for a middle grader, but the humor and the stakes are fairly universally understood. There’s a good amount of humor, and I particularly enjoyed the footnotes and the idea that multiple kids came together to make this case file.

The Song Rising by Samantha Shannon

The third in the series, this one felt a little lesser than the first two, but still engaging (enough that number four is later on this list). As with most fantasy series, the stakes here get bigger and broader. Relationships get strained and people die. The charm of the story will always be Paige and how she navigates all the worlds (social, political, literal) she has been thrust into. And of course, wondering if she and Warden are ever going to hook up.

The Most Boring Book Ever by Brandon Sanderson

This was a bit of a let down. The premise is good, and the art is fun, but it came off more as a proof of concept than a successful application. It’s no secret I’m a huge Sanderson fan, and maybe I had some high expectations going into this having just finished a children’s book focused intensive two week class. Definitely one to check out from the library as opposed to adding to your collection.

House of X/Powers of X by Jonathan Hickman

Moira. Dang. I have a very broad, encompassing knowledge of most comics. I’ve got a few hundred in boxes in my attic and I read X-men novels as a teen. But I had no idea about Moira and what she can do and did do, over and over and over. This was a super fun read, especially if you like time manipulation stories, as I very much do. It’s incredibly satisfying to see different characters take different paths and to see them succeed or fail depending on choices. It’s like those What If scenarios playing out in front of you.

The Waste Lands by Stephen King

The third in King’s Dark Tower series, this follows Roland and his friends (not giving away any spoilers) as they navigate Roland’s expanding world in their search for the Dark Tower. As with his others in the series, time plays a huge role in the narrative, and how things may be different, but still somehow always stay the same. Technically, that can be said about any story since we can only write what we know, but there’s intentionality here. Also, riddles are fun. :)

Storm Front by Jim Butcher

As part of the research for my thesis (I’m writing a fantasy mystery), I grabbed a few established examples to see how writers have approached the genre. Jim Butcher is probably the most well known, with the Dresden Files being the most well read. I really enjoyed his Cinder Spires books, and while this was a fun read, it didn’t have the same draw. Granted, Storm Front came out almost twenty-five years ago and was his first book. His writing has progressed since then. To me, Harry Dresden felt kind of like Gandalf. He occasionally did some neat stuff, but he often relied on others to solve his problems or answer his questions. I’m hoping as the series goes on he becomes more of a self-reliant protagonist.

A Court of Frost and Starlight by Sarah J Maas

This was the Christmas themed mini book that came out after the trilogy. And I say mini comparatively. It’s normal length compared to most books. It was nice to take a break from the heaviness of the series, and while there were some cute things going on, I felt that a lot of the relationship tensions that were front and center never got resolved. They just became more build up for the next book. They only resolution came from Feyre’s art, which was nice, yes, but there’s more’s the just Feyre here. Hopefully the last book gives the satisfaction I’m looking for.

Fated by Benedict Jacka

The next of my research reads, this was the one I enjoyed the most. The protagonist is a probability wizard, meaning he can sort of see into the future. I’d already given my own protagonist a somewhat similar ability, so it was interesting to see how Jacka utilized it in a narrative. The characters were smart, unique, and the world was fun to read about. Never did I feel like I was slogging or floundering, and I kept wanting to turn those pages. Of the fantasy mysteries, this series is the one I most want to continue.

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone

This was recommended to me as I was in the middle of working with an editor on an epistolary short story (which is being published this summer!) as a great example of epistolary prose. Plus, time travel! It was a relatively quick read, but there were sections that were fairly dense and required a bit more attention as I read through it. My favorite part, not being shy about my Shakespeare fandom, was when I thought, oh, they’re totally going to do a Romeo and Juliet thing here. Then Romeo and Juliet was referenced by name, followed by other key moments I won’t spoil. Then science was fun, the relationship was fun, and the form was fun. Just fun all around.

The Mask Falling by Samantha Shannon

Book four in the series, this one benefited by giving us a new setting as well as time to sit with Paige and Warden for more than a minute without someone trying to kill them. There was a reveal that I’d figured out in the first book, so that was a bit anti-climatic, but it’s still refreshing to see Scion through a different lens, and somewhat further away. As always, I’m in awe of Shannon’s breadth of knowledge of language and culture and history.

Midnight Riot by Ben Aaronovitch

You always hear people say you need a strong opening sentence, or opening paragraph. Well, this book had one of the best opening pages I’ve read in a long time. Enough that I took a picture and sent it to my MFA peeps. Aaronovitch has a fun, witty voice that never appears to be trying too hard. My only complaint about the book what that it fell victim to one of the suckier detective tropes of misogyny. I don’t mean to imply the author is, but for once I’d like to read a straight male detective protagonist who doesn’t see all women as pieces of meat.

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Dark. Depressing. And literally dark. Post-apocalyptic nuclear winter dark. It won a Pulitzer, with good reason. The whole story focuses on the relationship between father and son as they try to survive in the wasteland they now live in. Hope and love are the drivers of survival, both of which are tested in very real, relatable ways, even if they exist in a very different reality. Also, not being able to picture things in my mind, I have a very high tolerance for gore and grossness. There was one paragraph in this book that was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read. Ever.

Die Trying by Lee Child

Book two in the Reacher series, we see Reacher caught up in something again because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. No improbable family connections this time, but still a lot of the calm, collected, violent Reacher we expect. I felt like this was almost two books in one, with two very distinct sections that each start and end abruptly. It works, and makes sense, but still very abrupt. I mentioned earlier I wanted to see a detective who sees women as more than a piece of meat, and to his credit, Reacher does that. But I also wonder if he’s going to hook up with every hot lady he ends up working with. If hook ups happen authentically, no big deal. But if this happens every book it’s going to get awfully boring.

Berserk Deluxe Edition, Vol. 1 by Kentaro Miura

Last on the list is this massive tome, a manga collection from the series Berserk. I happened upon it randomly at the library, where they had all fourteen of them in a row begging to be inspected. I knew a little of the premise from seeing some of the anime, but I was not prepared for the level of gore. It was stylized, almost comical at times, but it was a lot. And Guts is a bonafide A-hole. But I tore through the whole thing in one evening, so it was definitely engaging. I think I kept burning through it wondering what could possibly happen next, given the ridiculous images I was seeing. I’ve got Vol. 2 on hold at the library, so we’ll see how it progresses. If it’s stays as engaging, it seems I’ll have quite a bit to get through.

That about wraps it up. I don’t think my goal will be quite so high in 2025 as I have to finish thesis on top of another class, and my daughter is now crawling so a lot of my day will be chasing her around and making sure she doesn’t break/kill herself, which is all a parent really needs to do the first two years :)

And the next books on the list, each of which I’m partially through, are Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson, Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders, and Wizard and Glass by Stephen King. Happy reading, and let me know if you found any of this helpful, or if you agree or disagree about any of these.

Recent Reads: Good, Bad, and not too Ugly.

Posted on September 5, 2024 by erictaveren

So I’m in the middle of thesis and that doesn’t leave much time for in depth book reviews. Instead, I’m going to just list what I’ve read this year that hasn’t yet received a full review and give some brief thoughts.

(in order of when I read it, oldest to most recent)

Edgedancer by Brandon Sanderson

I’m 99% certain a portion of Edgedancer appeared in a short story collection, because I know I’ve read the first section before. But that was maybe a quarter of this text. The rest read like typical Sanderson, and that’s definitely not a bad thing. I like Lift’s character: she’s fun, funny, and most of the time her thoughts and speech are appropriate to her age. The only criticism I’ve ever had of Sanderson involves his portrayal of young voices, and a few times that stuck out in Edgedancer. But still a very fun read, and integral to the events on Roshar and the greater Cosmere.

Black Canary: Breaking Silence by Alexandra Monir

This is one of those stories that relies on the reader to blindly accept the state of the world. The Court of Owls has taken over Gotham, oppressed women, and the rest of the country and world didn’t care? Really? Assuming I buy into this (which I have to if I want to keep reading), it was an interesting exploration of what would happen to the next generation of superheroes, how and why they make the decision to resist. As with many YA books, I felt the social/moral lessons lacked any semblance of subtlety, treating the reader almost like an idiot. Not a fan of that part. I was going through each of these DC YA books, but I think I’ll take a break after this one for a bit.

Killing Floor by Lee Child

The most interesting aspect of this read was that I’d recently watched the TV show, and the first season is based on this novel. It’s the first Jack Reacher story, so while the reader is meeting this character for the first time, I’d already met him on screen. And I knew what was going to happen. Luckily, enough creative liberty was taken in the show that the book was still surprising and entertaining. I was also trying to pay attention to the craft of the book, how the mystery was put together. I heard after the fact that Lee Child doesn’t outline, and that makes a certain amount of sense. It’s a good thing I liked it, because Goodwill has filled my shelf with almost all of the others in the series.

The Mime Order by Samantha Shannon

The Mime Order is a worthy successor to The Bone Season, though it’s an entirely different type of book. The Bone Season was a survival story, leading into rebellion, and The Mime Order is a political story fueled by the desire for that rebellion. Samantha Shannon does a marvelous job with world-building and thinking out how her story decisions would actually impact the people and society. Also, she sure knows how to set up rivalry and animosity. Makes any comeuppance incredibly satisfying.

The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer

I’m pretty good at sussing out clues and figuring out where a story is going to go. While I did guess the general thrust of what was happening in the story, as the specifics unfolded I was continually dropping my jaw. Multiple “oh shit” moments. And as much as I enjoy a good science-based sci-fi story, this really was a love story that happened to be in space. And that worked wonderfully.

The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub

I’ve been reading through The Dark Tower series and all its related writings. I’m assuming the Territories are where Roland comes from, or perhaps where he’s from is affected by them. I’ll probably find out in The Waste Lands. On its own, The Talisman reads more like a magical realism story than horror, even though my copy’s cover hyped up the horror aspect a ton. It had a really slow start to it, though I find that tends to be true with most Stephen King that I’ve read. In order to care what happens to the character, you have to care for the character, and he certainly gives you all the background with which to start caring. The prose was engaging the whole way through, and my only real criticism was that I felt that the story lacked purpose at the end. Yes, Jack learned truths about himself and his family, but so what? Why is that important? It was entertaining, but not fulfilling.

The Name of All Things by Jenn Lyons

The sequel to The Ruin of Kings, The Name of All Things picks up immediately where the last book left off. And also it doesn’t. Like the first book, the narrative structure of the story is told largely in people’s accounts of past events. So for the first 80% of the book there are brief sections in present day, but everything else is people talking about what they’ve been doing for the last handful of years. This isn’t a bad thing, and I’m actually rather curious as to how this continues into the next books. Are we finally going to get Thurvishar’s story? It was fun seeing how the events of the two books crossed paths both in the past and how they met in the present. And I can’t overstate how much the world and magic are integrated into the people and the story itself. Fantastic. This is probably my favorite book on this list.

A Court of Wings and Ruin by Sarah J Maas

This third book in the Court of Thorns and Roses series was the strongest of the three by a healthy margin. Why? Character growth. Character agency. Stakes that weren’t relying on spectacle. Crazy monsters and epic battles (yes, I know this has both) are fun, but they aren’t the reason we read a book. I feel like there were hints of this stronger storytelling in the earlier books, but Maas has really started to figure everything out in A Court of Wings and Ruin. Though I still think the fairy tale allusions would work better with a lighter touch. I wasn’t expecting to come across the swan princess in this read, and even now that’s how I remember that character.

Doomsday Clock by Geoff Johns, Gary Frank, and Brad Anderson

My only exposure to The Watchmen prior to reading this were the Zack Snyder film and the HBO series. Both of which I really enjoyed. I very much enjoyed how they poked at the idiocy of the politics in this country, in particular a certain long-tied leader. But I also enjoyed how they brought Watchmen into the greater DC world. I do get tired of the “OMG Superman is the best hero ever and always will be” shtick, but I was glad that he didn’t just show up and win. I enjoyed the Rorschach storyline the most, followed by Dr. Manhattan’s origins. Those photographs were fun ways to show just how tormented he’s been.

Eruption by Michael Crichton and James Patterson

I was asked the other day which writer had influenced my writing the most, and my answer was MIchael Crichton. I remember reading Jurassic Park, and shortly after that, Timeline, and being in awe of how he could take real science, make one little leap, and have a whole engaging story unfold based on the 99% truth of that scientific foundation. Much of what I write now has science integration, and I credit that 100% to Crichton. Now, since he passed many years ago, it’s been a while since I’ve read one of his novels. I don’t remember the chapters being as short as they were in Eruption. I’m going to go ahead and attribute this to Patterson. I don’t think this was a bad choice, just a different choice. I like Patterson, both his Alex Cross and Maximum Ride stuff, and I think he was a great choice to get the feel of Crichton, even if I could tell there was a difference pretty quick. I was expecting crazier at the end, and yet there were still surprises in the specifics. And Mac really needs to get laid.

The Black Book by Edward W Robertson

I finished this one yesterday at my kid’s soccer practice… audiobooks are super convenient. It’d been a while since I read one of Robertson’s books. I started a long time ago when the first three were available as a free Audible download. This is the second book in a prequel series, and while it was entertaining—Robertson always does fun banter with his characters—I don’t feel it was particularly unique in his world, especially after reading soooo many of them. Cally read a bit like Dante, but the other characters were their own people. Do I regret reading this? No. It had fun moments and has set up for some craziness in the next book. Do I think it deserved a bit more attention to pacing and realization of stakes? Yes.

There were some non-fiction books in there as well that I won’t review because they’re writing aids and if that’s what you’re looking for, you’ll have already found it. The three I read were How to Write a Mystery, edited by Lee Child, Writing Picture Books by Ann Whitford Paul, and Save the Cat! Writes a Young Adult Novel by Jessica Brody.

The short and sweet: How to Write a Mystery was not helpful. Save the Cat! Writes a Young Adult Novel had some good tidbits. Writing Picture Books had a fair amount of good advice. Though I did have to question everything Whitford Paul said for a while after she said chicken could be better than hamburgers. No. Just, no.

That’s all for now. I started The 7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle just as soccer practice was getting over. Hopefully I’ll have enough time to give it a proper review.

Book Review: The Tainted Cup

Posted on July 8, 2024 by erictaveren

My MFA thesis starts up this fall and I’ve decided to write a fantasy mystery (Mystasy?), because those are two genres I don’t see paired up too often. And whereas I’ve had the idea for this book/series for quite a while, I haven’t had the time to devote to it. Once I made my decision, it begged the question, what is a fantasy mystery?

As luck would have it, I was walking out of my local library and a cover on the staff recommendation shelf jumped out at me. The gold on navy with green accents pulled my eye and I found myself hushing my kid so I could read the back. I needed to know what a fantasy mystery was. The back read “A Holmes and Watson-style detective duo take the stage in this fantasy with a mystery twist, from the Edgar-winning, multiple Hugo-nominated Robert Jackson Bennett.”

I was ready to ask the question “where have you been all my life?” to both the book and the staff recommender (thanks Mao), simply from holding it in my hand. I’d instantaneously set The Tainted Cup on a pedestal without even realizing it. And it didn’t disappoint.

The story starts with our main protagonist, Din, as he investigates his first murder. He’s partnered with brilliant eccentric recluse Ana, who never steps foot on the crime scene (or out of her house for that matter). This grisly and disturbing murder is only the beginning, because as with any mystery (and transformer), there’s more than meets the eye.

I never want to give away spoilers, so here’s my brief rundown of what I liked and why you should read it:

The magic system is neat. Botanical and just vague enough to be mysterious in its own right.
Din’s flaws make his resourcefulness impressive. Plus he’s not too shabby with a sword. :)
Ana’s logic is never Deus Ex Machina. There’s never any logical leaps stemming from withheld information. Everything is presented, ready for you to figure it out.
Also: kaiju. Because why not.

Obviously there’s more going for it than what’s listed, but no sense giving anything away. Oh, and did I mention it’s the first in a series? The Tainted Cup just came out this year, so we’ll have some waiting to do (2025 according to google), but with the character, world, and story setup that happens in these pages, we’ll before too long be able to return to this world and continue sleuthing with Din and Ana.

One surprising aspect for me was the amount of violence in the book. And by that, I mean there was much less than I expected. Most fantasy has crazy action scenes with swords and magic and mythical beasts. Mysteries often have chases and, of course, murders. You’d think that crossing the two genres would ratchet that up a bit. Not really. And that’s not a bad thing. It wasn’t even until after I’d finished that I’d had this realization. Personal preference: I’d have loved some more fights. But it worked just fine without them.

I very much appreciated how the information was doled out to the reader. Sometimes we got the info and made the connection along with the characters. Sometimes the detail was mentioned chapters earlier and only became relevant at a later time and it was on us to remember it. And other times we were given hints at known information that wasn’t pertinent in the moment, but became a promise of a meaningful reveal later.

But how, as a writer, do you determine what information to give and when? That’s a good question, and one that applies to more than just mysteries. You might have guessed it, our craft subject of the day is:

Information Rationing.

Let’s start with characters who have information. When it comes to non-perspective characters, information rationing isn’t too difficult. People lie. Or they’re ignorant. Or they tell half-truths, intentional or not. You can pick any number of reasons why a non-perspective character will omit information, assuming it works with the story and their character of course. Bilbo doesn’t tell Frodo the details of his ring. The Dursleys tell Harry his parents died in a car crash. The International Fleet doesn’t tell Ender those aren’t just games. They’ve got reasons, and those reasons make sense for the characters and the plot.

Perspective characters are trickier. When Katniss has that flashback about Peeta giving her bread, we learn something about the both of them that impacts the story later on. That memory is triggered and she conveys that information to us. But what if we she withheld that memory? The characters’ connection later on wouldn’t make as much sense.

Even more to the point, take when Penelope is truly shocked about something Lady Whistledown said. It doesn’t make any sense. She is Lady Whistledown. The character’s knowledge of her secret role is hidden, even in her POV. Unless there’s a Fight Club situation going on, she would reasonably have thought once or twice about the fact that she is the one writing gossip.

An effective way around this is for the character to be cognizant of the fact that they have information, and then move on. Everyone has secrets, but let’s say we’re in your head, and your secret comes up. You’re not going to not think about it. That’s silly. And unrealistic. And it loses the reader’s trust.

In The Tainted Cup, there’s a situation just like that. Din (and this isn’t really a spoiler since he thinks about it right away in chapter one) has somewhat regular thoughts about not wanting Ana to find out what he did, or what his limitations are. We eventually learn the truth, and all his actions make perfect sense because of it. But we don’t feel cheated as the reader, because Din was honest with us about what he knew, and we knew why he wasn’t going into specifics.

And beyond character information, there’s story information. One way story information is distributed is via the plot. For the longest time, those two terms were synonymous in my head. The way I like to think about it now is the story is what happens. The plot is the order in which we see it happen. In Edward P. Jones’ The Known World, we see the story of this fictional county through the lives of its many inhabitants. The stories are given to us in bits and pieces, from character to character and back again. If all those characters’ stories were told chronologically, one at a time, we’d still get the whole story, but we’d lose so much context and interconnection as we experienced each one. The rationing of information, the order in which the story is told, is was makes that story great. One of the many reasons, actually.

And of course we have to talk about mysteries. Finding clues, finding information, is what those books are all about. There are probably a ton of different ways to go about it, but I like to look at a mystery’s disbursement of information like a family tree. A likely incestuous family tree, but you get the idea. At the bottom is, for the sake of the analogy, you, the inciting incident, the moment that kicks the story off. From there we branch up to the parents, the clues we find. Some people only have one parent, some have two or four or even more. And those parents don’t exist in a vacuum. They have parents and cousins and aunts and uncles and secret lovers and all that.

But how do you know just how many parents your story needs? How many different people is your grandpa going to make kids with? For that, I start at the other end of the family tree. Your great great great great grandparent, for example. The bad guy. I need to figure out what they did, who they did it with, and why they did it. Each of those is one of their kids. Each of those kids will have their own motivations and actions and relationships, making kids of their own. Sometimes those kids will meet, sometimes they’ll get a little incestuous. But before long there’ll be this massive family tree of plot, all leading to the bad guy. You just need to find one of the bottom descendants and start your story there.

As with any incestuous relationship, the goal of the participants is to keep it hidden. Your protagonist needs to figure out which cousins did which cousins, and why. Surely it wasn’t just because of a pair of big brown eyes. Right? Right? Treat each step of the family tree as a new secret. Some won’t be hidden, they’ll just need to be traced. “Ohhhh, that’s who my great-grandma was.” Others will definitely be hidden and will take a bit more work. “Aunt Peggy did what?!” But once all the tree has been revealed, each clue, each relationship, will make sense and support the structure of the entire tree.

Wow. I had not planned on that analogy, especially not as much lover from the same mother. But I think it works. And you know what else works? The Tainted Cup. Without further ado, here’s how The Tainted Cup fares with The Author’s Arsenal.

For excellent character creation and portrayal, I award The Seal. Ana definitely is set up to be a big player in future books, but Din especially shines. For phenomenal world-building, I award The Scroll. The ecology of the world alone is astounding, but add in the politics and history and classism… very nice. And for brilliant storytelling, I award The Quill Pen. In order for a mystery to work, the storytelling has to be on point. And it very much is.

If you you’re a fan of either fantasy or mystery, and especially if you’re both, I highly recommend picking up The Tainted Cup. I don’t think I’ve read anything quite like it, and I’m certainly glad I did.

As always, feel free to let me know if there’s a book you want reviewed.