Author: austin

Empire, class, treasure, shipwrecks, and many detailed journal keepers.

From the author of Killers of the Flower Moon, The Wager tells a historical recounting of a poorly planned British Naval voyage in the 1700s that resulted in castaways at the edge of the world. I appreciated how much of the content originated from first-hand accounts. History books that lean a little too much on storytelling, inventing thoughts of the story’s subjects, or imagining facial expressions as they witness events never sit right with me. I appreciate making history digestible, but stating that Winston Churchill grimaced while sipping a glass of scotch is a bit too much. David Grann does none of that. Nothing seems to be invented for the sake of immersion. All quotes appear to be actual quotes. Actions of the people involved are those recorded by quite a few personal journals. It results in the events of The Wager being that much more incredible, especially once the voyage is underway and the handful of castaways make their ways back home to tell their disparate tales. Untangling the different versions of events, each with its own motives, reminds me that nothing is new.

Empires preserve their power with the stories they tell, but just as critical are the stories they don’t–the dark silences they impose, the pages they tear out.

David Grann, The Wager

I frequently put the book down to look up different indigenous people of Patagonia, find pictures or maps of islands and passages, and watch videos about how British Man-of-Wars (Men of War? Mans of War?) worked. If I had a gripe, it would be that I wish more context were added to the surrounding events, but I’m not complaining. A book that can stoke curiosity is great. But seriously, now I really want to read about the different peoples of the la Tierra del Fuego.

This was my first book by David Grann, and he seems to be a great author on historical events. Based on this read, I think I prefer him to Erik Larson. It was a fine book. I will check out more of his work in the future.

Deaths will occur on pages 14, 46, 65, 75, 174, 208(ish), 218, 227, 249, somewhere between 243 and 250, 262, and 355.

I enjoyed this little Australian crime novel from the first murder to the last. Written from the perspective of Ernest, an author recounting a family reunion with a high body count. There’s plenty of humor to be found, but what I loved most was how the fictional author manipulates the reader. It’s playful. Right from the start he tells the reader in which pages there will be deaths, recommending you dog-ear them.

The book felt like a sibling to Knives Out and The Thursday Murder Club. The dysfunctional adult family at the core of the story is a train wreck you cannot look away from. Ernest, the protagonist, is what his name says, and an immensely entertaining narrator for it.

A great first book for 2024. It looks like the author, Benjamin Stevenson, has a sequel due to release in a couple weeks. I’ll be picking it up.

Mary Poppins from Hell… or some other dimension.

It’s Neil Gaiman, what’s not to love? Bit of surreal urban fantasy, but in the English countryside (rural fantasy?). Pairs well with Neverwhere and Fairy Tale. Made me think of my own childhood. Not because I was terrorized by an otherworldly nanny, but the exploration and perspective it conveys.

Adults follow paths. Children explore. Adults are content to walk the same way, hundreds of times, or thousands; perhaps it never occurs to adults to step off the paths, to creep beneath rhododendrons, to find the spaces between fences.

Nameless Protagonist of The Ocean at the End of the Lane

As a 7-year old in Tucson, Arizona, I would walk through the desert to get anywhere. Anywhere being desert hideouts or friends’ houses. Unless I was on a bike, that was what roads and sidewalks were for. When on foot, I wandered around poking at barrel cactus fruit while trying to not get my finger caught on its hooked needles, looking for lizards to catch, keeping an ear open for the almost mythical rattle of a copperhead. It was the more interesting way to go.

I probably should have listened to the audiobook version, which Neil narrates. If I could set Siri to sound like Neil Gaiman, I would. His narrations are a like wearing a comfy sweater.

Sentience explored by a marine biologist in the future with her AI co-worker.

A well-paced exploration of consciousness, artificial intelligence, and self, without the same genre tropes we’ve seen over and over.

The book is set in the near future and follows a handful of characters. Mostly Dr. Ha Nguyen, a marine biologist who specializes in cephalopod intelligence, and Evrim, the world’s only sentient artificial intelligence. Together they attempt to research and communicate with a species of octopus that have possibly developed sentience, culture, and language. The Mountain in the Sea explores what each of those monoliths mean for humanity, what they could mean once we remove our projected experience from them.

The book is personal. The book is humanity under a microscope. The book frequently quotes two non-exstant books that I wish I could read, How Oceans Think and Building Minds.

The end goal of The Mountain in the Sea is to answer the question, what is consciousness? I like the answer that is reached.

The year still has a few weeks left, but here are a few short reviews of other books I’ve read in 2023.

Elder Race

This was a fun one. A story written from two perspectives. One, a noble woman from a medieval society, the other an anthropologist from a massively advanced technological civilization The prior viewing the later as a wizard, the later attempting to do his job while failing a Star Trek-ish Prime Directive to not interfere in primitive societies (while also dealing with depression). It’s a quick read. It’s fun flipping back and forth between the two perspectives, each chapter either fantasy or sci-fi. There’s one point towards the end of the book that is excellent payoff for the genre flipping.

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Monk & Robot #2)

The sequel to A Psalm for the Wild-Built. A monk and robot walking through the forest didn’t feel as charming the second time around. It seemed like Becky Chambers was trying a little too hard to be philosophical and introspective. Like she knew her book was supposed to say something deep, but she couldn’t quite figure out what that parting wisdom was. You could definitely argue the same for the first book. As I’ve read more of her books, she frequently wavers on this line. I think more often than not, she doesn’t quite make it.

Six of Crows

Heists in a dark fantasy setting. At first I couldn’t stand the book. It felt like the author was trying a little too hard to be edgy. This isn’t your normal YA book, this one’s dark. I enjoyed it enough by the end, but I don’t think I’ll be reading the sequel.

The Fifth Season

I liked the book, but a good chunk of the third act felt out of place. Specifically the relationships that the book focuses on. They didn’t feel earned. It felt more like the author wanted to do something unique, and couldn’t find the right path towards that destination.

You could call this one grimdark. A lot of bad stuff happens… especially to kids. The world was mysterious and pulled me in. Won’t be re-reading this one, or the rest of the series.

Ejaculate Responsibly: A Whole New Way to Think About Abortion

The general ideas of this book were great. Men are fertile 100% of the time. Women are fertile for a couple days, unreliably, each month. A man could impregnate one woman every day for a year, while a woman can have a single child per year. The book continues on with the case that unwanted pregnancies are always blamed on women, when in reality, men are who cause all pregnancies. A woman can’t walk out on a pregnancy. As a society, we expect women to not just be responsible for their own body, but for men’s as well. Men should be the focus of stopping unwanted pregnancies. That’s all over simplified. The quality of the writing was varied. So were the points. Some really hit, while others felt out of place. Also, abortion access should be legally available everywhere.

The Man Who Died Twice (Thursday Murder Club, #2)

A pleasing sequel. It was fun to see Joyce, Elizabeth and the gang again. Didn’t feel as special as the first book, but still very enjoyable. Go read the first book. Heck, give it a listen. It has a wonderful narrator.

The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet (Wayfarers, #1)

Feels very Firefly inspired. Especially the spunky engineer lady. Just replace her with Kaylee and I don’t think anyone would notice. Each chapter feels like an episode of a TV show. It’s a fun book with great characters in a universe that feels begging to be explored. I wrote more about it in my review of next book in the series, A Closed and Common Orbit.

The Galaxy, and the Ground Within (Wayfarers, #4)

Before reading my first Becky Chambers book at the start of the year, I had heard this book was one of her best. I liked it fine. It’s better than the first book, but A Closed and Common Orbit remains my favorite of the series. This one is slice-of-life, but with aliens. It’s enjoyable, but not outstanding. One small irk, she mentions the “oh there’s not a word in your language for a thing in my culture” thing too many times. Like 5 time too many. She obviously has a lot of fun inventing these alien races, and they are fun to read about. I just didn’t love it. Thinking back on The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet, there was a lot I enjoyed about the book, but also a lot I didn’t like. Chambers has definitely grown as a writer, but for most of the books of hers that I’ve read, she re-treads a the same ground. Frequently.

The Splendid and the Vile

I’ve read a few Erik Larson books. In the Garden of the Beasts probably being my favorite. This one was a little too loose. Too many threads. I still enjoyed learning about what a weirdo Churchill was.

Mistborn: Secret History (Mistborn, #3.5)

Oof. Sometimes I’ll read a single book or two in a big ‘ol series and then just stop. I like what I’ve read, but I feel like the author will ruin that feeling by continuing on with the story in ways I don’t enjoy. For example, I’ve read Dune maybe three times, but never any of the rest of the series. Secret History definitely falls in that category. It dives into what was happening behind the scene through the original Mistborn series. In an age where every single third-tier side character get’s their own TV show and an every possible plot line and multiverse is explored, I really prefer when not all questions are answered.

Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot Diaries, #6)

I guess I missed this one last year? It’s another Murderbot book! What’s not to like? This time Murderbot is solving a murder on a space station. Enjoyable, though not my favorite in the series. If you haven’t read the Murderbot Diaries, I recommend giving them a try. Quick reads (novellas! They’re great!), fun character to follow.

Number Go Up: Inside Crypto’s Wild Rise and Staggering Fall

The renaissance era was lousy with painters, we’re lousy with grifters. I have stubbornly refused to read/listen to anything crypto related. It’s always seemed like a scam. The financial crime investigative journalist, Zeke Faux, had a similar feeling. Instead of ignoring it he dove deep. Zeke spent a few years following the grifters, egos, and billionaires tied to crypto, from mansions to slave camps. His book feels almost too strange to be reality.

Surreal, non-spooky Stephen King.

Before Fairy Tale, I had read only two Stephen King books, On Writing and the first book in the Dark Tower series. On Writing is more autobiographical. The Gunslinger is… something else. Something I should probably revisit. My exposure to King has been minimal, and importantly, none of his spooky thriller stuff. From what I gather, there are generally two kinds of King books. The spooky books, and the surreal books. Fairy Tale falls into the later camp.

King takes his time. The opening chunk of the book isn’t in a hurry to get to anything seemingly related to the title. The leisurely pace is not a bad thing. He doesn’t overstay his welcome, describing a path for a few too many pages (looking at you, Ghost of Tolkien). King luxuriates in the telling of the story. Once I settled into his pace, it just felt right.

As the story progressed I couldn’t put the book down. It’s a considerably sized book as well (I gather this is pretty standard for King). I won’t describe the characters or plot, I recommend going in blind on this one. The book hangover was strong. It feels like a book I’ll revisit a few times over the years.

A less urgent, more intimate Interstellar.

Last year I had never heard of Becky Chambers. Now, five books into her work, she has become a favorite author of mine. Her ability to write beautiful, rich and cozy human experience is a constant. All her books take place in scifi settings, but the setting, the technology are ambient. Her stories focus so much more on characters over the alien. More intimate inter-personal stories than action heavy plot. I guess you could say they tend to lean into the slice-of-life genre.

To Be Taught, If Fortunate lives up to what I have grown to expect from Becky Chambers, but with a more beautiful, somber, bitter-sweet execution. It stands apart from what I’ve read of the Wayfarer series, which started out a little too much in the vein of Firefly. Not quite as openly light-hearted philosophical as A Psalm for the Wild-Built. It’s a short novella that takes you on a journey with four people over a few decades. It’s not perfect. The ending might be devisive. I really enjoyed reading it.

Romeo and Juliet, but they’re terminators.

This is How You Lose the Time War is beautiful. It is also written in a way that took my brain a while to adjust to it. I had to meet the book where it stood. In places, it’s a bit too poetic, too abstract to follow, but that poetry is fitting. I haven’t read a book written like this before. There are wild sci-fi settings and concepts, but they’re all just bokehfied background. What is rendered in sharp clarity, is how the protagonists, Red and Blue, become entangled. After reading, I heard someone jokingly describe This is How You Lose the Time War as, “Romeo and Juliet, but they’re terminators”.

Maybe I’ve said too much, but go in blind. You’ll likely read it in a day or two.

We are all lichens.

One of those deep-dive non-fiction books covering some everyday thing you had no idea was so integral to life as we know it. Fungus! Who knew it commands and shapes so much of the world as we know it?! I found this book approachable, wonder inducing, and sometimes terrifying. Fungus that links and networks trees and plants throughout a forrest. Lichen existing as a michrocosm of bacteria, fungus, and plant. Nervous system hijacking mycelium to propagate spores. Psilocybin’s ability to treat addiction, PTSD, and depression. I was so enthused by this book that I started growing some gourmet mushrooms of my own out of five gallon buckets.