Reviews of favorite books

Fiction: Little Thieves by Margaret Owen

11/11/2025

Although Little Thieves is a romantic fantasy for young adults, the depth of theme and characterization are more typical of fantasy novels written for adult readers. The main character, Vanja, is a sixteen-year-old thief and former maid who has survived abuse and neglect from her parents and employers. She’s created her own way in the world by being clever and resourceful, yet remains hindered by fear and resentment. Vanja’s journey of healing forms the heart of the novel.
It's also a story of power and powerlessness, of privilege and disadvantage, of resentment and forgiveness. And it's a deft, nuanced exploration of the power dynamics of abuse, and the ways humans both seek and resist self-empowerment and healing

Little Thieves is a loose version of The Goose Girl, though it provides a more complex take on the classic switched-identity story and weaves in other fairy-tale themes. For example, the prince is actually the Big Bad Wolf, and there are references to thorns, pricked fingers, and red roses reminiscent of Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty).

Each section within the book begins with a “Once upon a time . . .” fairy-tale that sets the stage for the following narrative.
In the first, Vanja’s biological mother abandons her to the gods Death and Fortune, who become Vanja’s godmothers. We also see snippets of Vanja’s life as a chambermaid, and get a compelling riddle-tale foreshadowing the novel’s climax (“Once upon a time, three maidens went to a wolf’s wedding”), which heightens the tension over Vanja’s fate while giving nothing away. This tale ends with the line: “Which of the maidens was I?” harkening to the classic riddle-rhyme, “As I was Going to St. Ives,” but more meaningful and with much higher stakes than the nursery rhyme.

The novel is set in a Germanic-inspired medieval world where same-sex relationships are not preferred, but neither are they vilified. Same for transgendered individuals. A female-female romance between two secondary characters plays a critical role in the transformative arcs of the two characters involved.

In the novel’s opening, Vanja is stealing jewelry from the nobility hoping to amass enough wealth to flee to another country. Her two God-mothers, Death and Fortune, decreed that on her thirteenth birthday she must choose to serve one of them for all time. Unable to choose between them—because she loves them both—and hurt that they want her to be a servant rather than a daughter, she refuses and decides to leave the country where they're worshipped.
Vanja’s clever thievery was one of my favorite parts of the book. These passages reminded me of my favorite heist stories, with Vanja several steps ahead of everyone else . . . until she isn’t. But even when seemly trapped with no escape, she never stops scheming and trying to overcome all obstacles.

Another fun aspect of the novel is Vanja “code-switching” between impersonating the beautiful, blond princess and reverting to her plain, chambermaid persona when convenient.

On her way home from the opening heist, Vanja runs afoul of a local Herne-like forest deity who curses her for stealing one of the god’s talismans. Vanja begins sprouting rubies and diamonds (a twist on the fairy tale Diamonds and Toads), triggering sometimes farcical—but always dangerous—greed in others.
The forest god’s half-mortal daughter Ragne comes along to supervise the curse until the full moon, when Vanje will either extricate herself by amending her greedy ways, or become a pile of jewels.
I enjoyed Ragne’s curiosity about the mortal world of her unknown father and her naive questions. It was especially fun when she falls in love with another character and asks about kissing.

Other antagonists thwart Vanja’s plans, the most dangerous being her betrothed, a war-like prince. A young noblewoman who tormented Vanja when she was a chambermaid also tries to undermine her.

Another adversary is Emric Conrad, a junior prefect sent to investigate the robberies. He appears easily flustered and overwhelmed, stammering through early interviews of Vanja. Very different from the menacing Conrad of the original Goose Girl fable.
We discover that Emric, like Vanja, is more complex than his initial presentation conveys. He carries emotional scars from trying to live up to his father’s legacy and expectations, and from painful social awkwardness around his less brilliant peers.
Emric serves as a foil, a threat, and a potential romantic partner for Vanja, though the enemies-to-lovers trope never feels forced or simplistic.

The mutual attraction between Vanja and Emric and their desire to outwit each other, provides for nice plot surprises. And their relationship is only one of Vanja’s evolving relations with other secondary characters, the most meaningful being with the princess whose place she usurped. The theme of earning forgiveness through changed actions was a strength of the storyline.

There are a number of supernatural creatures in the novel such as a kolbold who keeps the hearthfires and nachtmahren who feed off nightmares. I wasn't entirely sure what the magical “rules” were of these creatures, the nachtmahren in particular. They seemed able to change size, and both feed off people and enter inside them at one point.

  I would’ve liked more about Vanja’s relationship with her two godmothers, and more on the nature of gods in this world. There is mention of Low Gods and High Gods, but it was never clear to me what this distinction meant.
  Other weaknesses were secondary characters and plotlines not critical to the storyline, including an over-the-top scene with an animated statue. This sprawl gave the novel a frantic feel at times, but overall the story was well-constructed and kept my interest.
  In the end, characters are redeemed, evil is vanquished, and love blossoms.  Little Thieves is a fairy-tale retelling that is both original and surprisingly complex.

For other retellings of The Goose Girl, read A Sorceress Comes to Call and Thorn
For other “romantasy” novels, try Swordheart, Paladin’s Grace, The Unspoken Name,
The Thousand Eyes, Fire Logic, Earth Logic

Nonfiction: Tiny Experiments by Anne-Laure Le Cunff

11/4/2025

Tiny Experiments: How to Live Freely in a Goal Obsessed World is full of actionable ideas for living a fulfilling creative life. The author weaves scientific research with personal experiences and testimonials to make the case for embracing curiosity.
She says, “Our collective focus on the ladder of success is what gives rise to the proverbial rat race of modern life: if only we can climb one more step—if only we can get that promotion, give that big presentation, grow our online audience, hire a team, buy that house—then we will finally feel at peace.”
Her antidote is to explore our innate curiosity and discover what excites us. “What makes you come alive? [Discover] the experiences that light that spark.”

Some favorite quotes:

Success is showing up, regardless of the end result.
You could even experiment with doing nothing for a few minutes a day.
Making the most of our time isn’t about doing more but being more: more present, more engaged, and more attuned to the quality of our experiences.
Excellence is a marathon, not a sprint.
It’s important to notice when we use learning [i.e. research] as procrastination in disguise.
Remember life is not about how much we do, but how well we do.
there is so much to learn from our mistakes; we should learn to fall in love with them.

The author had a unique and helpful approach to procrastination. She says, “Procrastination is not an enemy to be conquered, but a meaningful signal that something is amiss—a mismatch between your rational aspirations, your emotional needs, and your practical skills. Approach procrastination from a place of curiosity to identify its cause and adjust your course of action.”
She advocates using procrastination as “a signal to reconsider your approach.”

I found the exploration of perfectionism especially helpful. She explains that “We are wired to quickly label situations as good or bad, an evolutionary mechanism designed to protect us from unknown risks.”
This instinct becomes problematic when there’s no certain answer.

Perfectionism is one of the defense mechanisms we fall back on when faced with uncertainty. "[We] cling to our past successes, trying to repeat them [which] limits our imagination by making us rehash old tales instead of facing the discomfort of the blank page."
"When love, acceptance, and attention seem conditional on our achievements, it creates a deep-seated sense of inadequacy that makes us feel that we’re never quite good enough. We tirelessly strive toward unattainable perfection, which not only stifles our curiosity but inevitably leads to disappointment when we fall short of our own unrealistic expectations.”

But “the more we flex our curiosity muscles, the more uncertainty transforms from something to escape to somewhere to explore. …Rather than resisting uncertainty, we befriend it.”
Thus practice not perfection is the goal. She quotes John Maxwell: “The more you do, the more you fail. The more you fail, the more you learn. The more you learn, the better you get.”

Because “failure is an integral part of growth . . . embracing imperfection is necessary to live a life of creative adventure.” She points out that it’s unrealistic to expect to excel at everything simultaneously, and instead we should cultivate intentional imperfection, which "means being deliberate about where you invest your efforts, recognizing that you cannot be at the very top all the time and across all areas of life. It’s about striving for sustainable excellence rather than fleeting perfection.”
She advises letting go of “good” projects to focus on great projects; to put our focus and effort into the activities that excite us the most.

But dropping even mediocre projects can be tough. "The bravest thing you can do, sometimes, is to admit that a course of action is no longer serving you and to bow out.”

“The stigma attached to quitting often clouds our judgment and can keep us tethered to a project that drains our physical, cognitive, and emotional resources. A powerful barrier to taking a break or abandoning a project is the sunk cost fallacy: the irrational reasoning that further investment—be it time, money or effort—must be made simply because of the initial investment, regardless of the current and future value of that project. We have poured so much energy and hope into a project that it feels impossible to withdraw.”
Every author I know has at least one manuscript in a drawer they abandoned when it finally became heartbreakingly clear the story wasn't working—sometimes after many years of investment.

The author advocates “learning in public” as a way of developing new skills in community, but I found this advice problematic. She says, “Find opportunities to document and share that align with work you would be doing anyway. For instance, writers and artists share snippets of works in progress, giving fans a peek while maintaining momentum.”

Before you rush to post your work-in-progress online, consider that this public learning creates an “audience effect,” where a creator alters their behavior to seek social approval. Work shared publicly “becomes content for others to react to, distorting your priorities and skewing them toward pursuing public validation over personal values.”
It also opens the creator to critiques and attacks from “mean-spirited trolls.”
So why does she suggest such a perilous venture? Apparently because it might increase “your chances of being noticed by potential employers, investors, and collaborators, unlocking new career opportunities.”

This theme of becoming a successful entrepreneur underlies many of the anecdotes she uses to “sell” her learning method, which essentially undermines her argument of experimenting for its own sake versus working toward a specific goal of “new career opportunities.”

Tiny Experiments was strongest for me when the focus was on the creative journey, on framing experiments as “just for fun,” and “embracing the adventure of not knowing where your path will lead.”

For more helpful tips read: The Power of Practice, Embracing Fear,
How to Keep House While Drowning, Life Admin

Poetry: You Better Be Lightning by Andrea Gibson

10/19/2025

It’s rare to read a poetry book where every poem is impactful—such was my experience with Andrea Gibson’s You Better Be Lightning.
  The language is straightforward and accessible, and each poem is like an exquisite short story, taking the reader on an intense emotional journey.
  The poem “Queer Youth are Five Times More Likely to Die by Suicide” is an immersive dive into the painful world of LQBTQ+ youth.
  The entire poem is a tour de force, but I found these lines particularly poignant:
Burning for eternity seems five times
more doable than another day in the school lunchroom.

“The Year of No Grudges” begins with this stanza:
I know most people try hard
to do good and find out to late
they should have tried softer.

A second excerpt:
Where I come from, you can drive/
a pickup truck from one side
of the lake to the others, and people
have an unusually high quantity/
of missing teeth and fingers,
but you can still count on them
to buy whitening strips and wedding rings

Another excerpt:
Burning to be better is my favorite
quality on anyone, and you are on fire

The poem “Time Piece” had a couple of stanzas that deeply resonated with me:
My friend wakes up at noon.
Goes to bed at eight. Wants less time
because she wants less pain.
And this quotable passage:
Regret is a time machine to the past.
Worry is a time machine to the future.
Gratitude is a time machine to the future.

My favorite lines in “Every Time I Ever Said I Want to Die”:
Sometimes grief is the fastest route to truth.
Also:
What if we don’t have to be healed
to be whole? There are holes in every inch
Of the fabric that makes me who I am
And:
…a difficult life is not less
worth living than a gentle one. Joy is just easier
to carry than sorrow

“Instead of Depression,”
Call it Hibernation.
…Name your hopelessness
a quiet hollow, a place you go
to heal, a den you dug,
Sweetheart, instead
of a grave.

“What Love Is” tells the story of the poet on tour with their girlfriend and performing near the girlfriend’s estranged parents. Their girlfriend is thrilled that her parents want to see the show, a first step toward reconciliation. The parents are painfully stiff and out of place among the lavender-haired queers in the audience.
The poet has been handed a flyer and asked to announce an anti-fracking protest; the girlfriend’s father works in fracking.
Here are two short scenes from the poem:
Resting the flyer for the protest at my feet so I could announce it near the end, I told myself, If you are going to be anything in the world tonight, you better be lightning. You better find something in you honest enough to strike them.
After the show, the poet feels ashamed because she never announced the protest, a violation of her own progressive politics, but in the greenroom backstage:
. . . her father burst through the door, his head nearly axing a hole through the ceiling, tears, like a giant’s tears, covering his face. I’m seventy-six years old, he said, and I just tonight figured out what love is.
The closing lines:
There is no moral of this story. It’s just a moment in my life where I did something wrong, and the earth, who has never not known what love is, held me anyway.

From “The Test of Time” (note: the poet has Lyme Disease):
“I can’t always tell the difference
between my gifts and my tragedies. What I’ve lost /
in health I’ve gained in access to my own empathy.
And: …there is a test we can take to find out the future.
It’s called the test of time. And what you do is you live/
until you die. And you refuse to let the hands of your clock
curl into fists to fight the [life] lessons off. Even if the lessons /
are brutally hard.

Some quotable lines from various poems:

Do you know fish are so sensitive/snowflakes sound like fireworks when they land/on the water? Do you know sea otters hold hands/when they sleep so they don’t drift apart? (“Homesick: A Plea for Our Planet”)
…my still teenage sister/ was a million miles away/ in a trailer on the other side of town,/ men twice her age offering needles/ for her arm so she could sew herself/ backward, unmake her own life/ one fix at a time. (“Love Letter to the Tick That Got me Sick”)
How did you come to believe/ that hating yourself would protect you/ from other people’s hate? (“Aliens Explain Why They Are Visiting Earth”)
Is my attention on loving/ or my attention on/ who isn’t loving me? (“Wellness Check”)
…every falling leaf is a tiny kite/ with a string too small to see, held/ by the part of me in charge/ of making beauty/ out of grief. (“How the Worst Day of My Life Became the Best”)
We call the weather beautiful/ because there are no more snowmen in Colorado,/ but there are men with cold hearts . . . Who buy stock in war and cancer and poverty. Who buy stock in extinction. (“Not Alone”)

Part of the pleasure of these poems is their well-crafted structure as in the pair of poems: “The Call, Option 1” and “The Call, Option 2,” both concerned with calling someone who sexually abused the poet in childhood.
The first version is vindictive: you will always be held down/ by what you held down. And: …what does the boy you once were/ think of the man you became?
The second version starts with this line: There is a world in which you did not touch me.
She imagines a world where he holds no fear over them: In this world I don’t panic when I see a pink tricycle/ in your neighbor’s driveway . . .

Also impressive, “The Night Shift” takes us on a journey through the poet’s job as night-supervisor at a home for wayward girls. The poem balances the poet learning her duties with harrowing vignettes of the individual girls: one whose mother says she’ll visit but never shows, another who isn’t allowed razors.

This collection of poems is emotionally raw, yet full of grace and lyrical beauty. These are poems where gratitude and forgiveness inevitably triumph over pain and despair. Highly recommended.
Find You Better be Lightning online or at your local library. Gold Medal Winner of the Feathered Quill Book Awards and the Independent Publisher Book Awards.

Another fabulous poetry book: Not a Princess

Fiction: Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie

10/13/2025

Ancillary Justice is set in a far future universe where modified captive humans are merged with a ship’s AI to create a multi-body conglomerate sharing a single consciousness. The story unfolds in alternating timelines: one nineteen years in the past following a unit of these so-called ancillaries joined with the spaceship Justice of Toren; the other in the present following a traveler named Breq on a quest for vengeance.
The story is expertly told, revealing just enough of this fascinating world to keep the reader engaged: intelligent spaceships and their human-ancillary extensions, the endless and brutal colonization of neighboring worlds, and the pervasive caste politics within the Radch Empire.

In the opening chapter we meet Breq, who recognizes an unconscious addict tossed out into the street and chooses to rescue her, at risk of their all-important mission. Of this choice, Breq says, “Sometimes I don’t know why I do the things I do. Even after all this time it’s still a new thing for me not to know, not to have orders to follow from one moment to the next.”

Breq is on a wintry planet where the natives routinely take advantage of interlopers. Breq is aware she’s being cheated at every turn, but it’s irrelevant to her: she’s only interested in completing her mission.
We learn that the Radch Empire doesn’t distinguish by gender and has no gender pronouns, which makes it difficult for Breq to determine the correct pronouns to use on this planet (she generally defaults to “she”). Also, the addict she rescues quickly becomes a liability, further complicating her situation.

It’s in the other timeline that we learn about the ancillaries and come to understand the motivation for Breq’s solo mission. Here we are in the Justice of Toren’s point of view, and more specifically a unit of ancillaries called One Esk on the planet’s surface under command of Lieutenant Awn. The planet has been recently and brutally “annexed” by the empire; Lieutenant Awn and the One Esk ancillaries are there to keep order until the indigenous population is fully assimilated.

The author does a fabulous job conveying the multi-layered consciousness of One Esk: accompanying Lieutenant Esk to visit the head priest of the local temple while simultaneously keeping watch over the village and taking complaints from petitioners in the local office, all of these experiences sensed by different bodies but shared by one singular awareness. Lieutenant Awn is dedicated to the ideals of the empire and One Esk is devoted to the lieutenant.
This group awareness is catastrophically interrupted at one point in the story and the confusion and pain One Esk experiences is palpable. And because one of the One Esk units is destroyed during the same event, we get to see a fresh human prepared to become an ancillary in a harrowing scene that brings home the human cost of creating ancillaries.

The social politics and hierarchy of the empire are also revealed in this timeline. The entire Radch Empire is ruled by Anaander Mianaai, who has cloned herself into thousands of ancillary-like bodies. Once Anaander Mianaai appearsin the story, things change quickly for Lieutenant Awn and One Esk.
About two-thirds of the way through the novel, the two timelines converge as Breq attempts to take her revenge. Characters from the past timeline intrude on the present, vastly complicating Breq’s mission. The suspense ratchets higher when Breq realizes she has underestimated her opponent and must scramble throughout the exciting climax of the story.
The novel gathers momentum as the story unfolds until I literally couldn’t stop reading. It won the Hugo, Nebula, and Arthur C. Clark awards the year it was published, and for good reason: it’s a fascinating and compelling read. Although the first of a trilogy, Ancillary Justice is a complete story with a satisfying arc and a great read for any science fiction fan.

Other science fiction novels to try:
The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet; A Closed and Common Orbit;
All Systems Red; Artificial Condition; Rogue Protocol; Exit Strategy

Nonfiction: Stillness is the Key by Ryan Holiday

10/10/2025

In Stillness is the Key, Ryan Holiday offers methods to cultivate stillness and serenity to “survive and thrive in any and every environment no matter how loud or busy.”
The author draws on the teachings of Stoicism, Daoism, and Buddhism, among other traditions, to illustrate key concepts.
The book is divided into three sections: mind, spirit, and body, with techniques for cultivating serenity in each area. The text is well-written, making the author’s reasoning easy to follow and understand, and he uses fascinating examples throughout to highlight his core arguments, adding to the book’s narrative vitality.

The real-world stories he uses to illustrate his ideas were enlightening: John F. Kennedy finding a sane solution to the Cuban missile crisis, Winston Churchill cultivating solace in painting and bricklaying during WWII, Fred Rogers swimming laps to foster serenity, Anne Frank finding beauty amidst hardship. He also cites cautionary tales: Michael Jordan tainting his Hall of Fame induction with resentment, Tiger Woods acting out sexually and undermining his career, Joan Rivers staying booked for fear of being forgotten.

My favorite quote from the section on mental stillness:
“People who don’t read have no advantage over people who can’t read.”
Journaling is recommended as a way to ask tough questions, such as:

Where am I standing in my own way?
What is the harder choice I’m avoiding?
How will today’s difficulties reveal my character?

A question to nurture mental stillness:
“Ask yourself at every moment, Is this necessary?”
This reminds me of a favorite slogan to dissipate urgency: Does this need to be done? Does it need to be done by me? Does it need to be done now?

And the author warns against getting locked into specific outcomes:
“If we aim for the trophy in life—be it recognition or wealth or power—we’ll miss the target. If we aim too intensely for the target . . . we will neglect the process and art required to hit it.
What we should be doing is practicing [in the present moment].”

For spiritual stillness, the author recommends:

Develop a strong moral compass.
Practice gratitude and appreciation for the world around us.
Cultivate relationships and love in our lives.
Place belief and control in the hands of something larger than ourselves.
Understand that there will never be “enough” and that the unchecked pursuit of more ends only in bankruptcy.

One technique to cultivate moral virtue is encouraging self-talk:
“When we’re going into a tough assignment, we can say to ourselves over and over again, Strength and courage. Before a tough conversation with a significant other: Patient and kindness.”
To heal the wounds of childhood he quotes Garry Shandling: “Give what you didn’t get.”

He addressed the work required of healthy relationships:
“Being close to and connecting with other people challenges every facet of our soul. . . . A good relationship requires us to be virtuous, faithful, present, empathetic, generous, open, and willing to be part of a larger whole. It requires, in order to create growth, real surrender. . . . But rising to this challenge—even attempting to rise to it—transforms us . . . if we let it.”

The author also explored the Stoic concept of sympatheia, the “mutual interdependence and relatedness of all things, past, present, and future.” In this mindset, “everyone is necessary. Even the people you don’t like. Even the ones who really piss you off. Even the people wasting their lives, cheating, or breaking the rules are part of the larger equation. We can appreciate—or at least sympathize with—them, rather than try to fight or change them. . . . To understand all is to forgive all. To love all is to be at peace with all. Including yourself.”

The chapter on spiritual desire was especially meaningful to me:

“We were not put on this planet to be worker bees, compelled to perform some function over and over again for the cause of the hive until we die. Nor do we 'owe it' to anyone to keep doing, doing, doing—not our fans, not our followers, not our parents who have provided so much for us, not even for our families. Killing ourselves does nothing for anybody.”
“If you believe there is ever some point where you will feel like you’ve “made it,” when you’ll finally be good, you are in for an unpleasant surprise. "

"You will never feel okay by way of external accomplishments. Enough comes from the inside. . . . From seeing what you already have, what you’ve always had.”

In the section on cultivating stillness in the body, the author introduces the Daoist concept of wu wei, or effortless action; the ability to wait for the right moment rather than trying to force a solution. For example, waiting for the perfect pitch in baseball/softball rather than swinging out of impatience.

Part of cultivating physical serenity is not stretching ourselves too thin:
“You have to be still enough to discover what’s really going on. You have to let the muddy water settle. That can’t happen if you’re jetting off from one place to another, if you’re packing your schedule with every activity you can think of in order to avoid the possibility of having to spend even a moment alone with your own thoughts.”
“In every situation, ask: Do I need it? Do I want it? What are the hidden costs? If I never knew about it at all—if the request was lost in the mail, if they hadn’t asked me—would I even notice that I missed out?”
And be willing to say “No.”

This is the only body we get and it’s to our benefit to take good care of it:
“The overworked person creates a crisis that they try to solve by working harder. Mistakes are piled upon mistakes by the exhausted, delirious mind. The more they try, the worse it gets . . . everyone functions better when well-rested.”

The book closes with these thoughts:
“None of us are long for this world. Death hangs over us all . . . Most of this book has been about how to live well. But in so doing, it is also about how to die well. Because they are the same thing. . . .
We must learn to think rationally and clearly about our own fate.
We must find spiritual meaning and goodness while we are alive.
We must treat the vessel we inhabit on this planet well—or we will be forced to abandon it early.”

I've highlighted just a few of the many treasures to be found in Stillness is the Key. Highly recommended.

Read other books to inspire your best self: What Makes a Hero, How to be an Anti-Racist,
Say the Right Thing, The Art & Science of Connection

Fiction: The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

10/2/2025

The Priory of the Orange Tree is set in a secondary fantasy world where winged dragons of earth and fire terrorize the western lands, while serpentine dragons of air and water protect the East. The two regions are separated by a vast, deep ocean known as the Abyss, where the evil Nameless One resides.
At over 800 pages, the novel is a door-stopper, but the author does an excellent job keeping all the moving pieces of the puzzle in play: all-too-human yet ultimately noble characters, intriguing magic systems, nefarious scheming, and layers of mysteries to discover as the story unfolds.
One of the most enjoyable elements of the story are the clashing beliefs of the different cultures, each of whom believe they know the ultimate truth.

In the West, they worship a knight-turned-god whom they believe defeated the draconic Nameless One in single combat. In the South, they believe this knight was a cad, and a brave woman defeated the Nameless dragon before founding the Priory of the Orange tree. Both groups distrust the East for making dragons into gods. In the East, they believe everyone else is riddled with dragon-plague and subhuman, and only they know the truth about binding and defeating the Nameless One.

The story is told from the perspective of four characters:

Ead, a Southern mage-assassin serving the Queen of Inys, where all magic is forbidden;
Tané, an Eastern would-be dragon-rider who makes a terrible mistake on the eave of her initiation;
Niclays Roos, an alcoholic alchemist in exile after trying to swindle the Queen of Inys;
Loth, a Western nobleman and close friend of both Ead and the Queen of Inys.

Other important characters include:

Sabran, the Queen of Inys, who is being pressured to wed and produce an heir (West).
Chassar uq-Ispad, an ambassador from the Priory of the Orange Tree who raised Ead and positioned her in Sabran’s court (South).
Truyde utt Zeedeur who conspires to convince the East and West to cooperate with each other before the Nameless One returns (West).
Nayimathun, a dragon who chooses Tané as her Dragonrider and offers her unconditional love and acceptance (East). “Her voice was a war conch and whale song and the distant rumble of a storm, all smoothed into words like glass shaped by the sea.”

Ead is the backbone of the story: she’s been sent to the court of Inys from the Priory of the Orange Tree. Ead is competent and smart, but someone keeps sending assassins to attack the queen and Ead is charged with protecting her—without blowing her cover (she is posing as a simple lady-in-waiting). As the story progresses, we watch her struggle to unravel the mystery of who is behind the assassins, and slowly come to respect and even fall in love with the queen she initially resents.

Tané comes from a humble background, but her ambition drives her to become a revered Dragonrider. The scenes of her bonding with and riding her dragon are delightful. Unfortunately, her poor choices catch up with her (and her dragon), and Tané is banished to a small island. This is Tané dressing her own wound:
“With clumsy fingers, she threaded the needle. She cleaned the cut as best she could … The needle pierced her skin.”

Self-centered Niclays Roos is willing to do anything, and sacrifice anyone, to advance his position in the world.
He mourns his lost love, a nobleman consumed by solving history’s riddles who died many years ago.
Niclay’s terrible choices in the story cost others their lives, but in the end he is positioned, at long last, to redeem himself.

Loth’s friendship with the Queen of Inys (and rumors of romance) puts him in the crosshairs of powerful enemies.
He is exiled—without the queen’s knowledge—to almost certain death at the stronghold of the Nameless One’s minions, but manages to survive his ordeal with the help of very unlikely allies.

The worldbuilding is a definite strength of the novel. Familiar elements are interspersed with words completely unique to this story world. Companionship is the term used for marriage, and spouses are called “companions.” An oakmouse is a squirrel; rose cold means "hay fever"; shellblood is a blue dye extracted from sea snails in the East; Sodden-witted means "drunk."

The author deftly uses food to ground the different cultures. Examples from the East:
“The servants brought him bean curd, grilled loach, and barley tea to break his fast.”
“...they dined on marbled beef and salt-pickled vegetables and sweetfish and sea lettuce and little cups of toasted seaweed, each bursting with roe.”
“Peddlers grilled bladefish over their stoves, simmered bites of sweet pumpkin in broth, and handed out hot wine and tea to keep the chill at bay.”
“Servants came to pour them tea and offer platters of food: dates soaked in red mountain-honey, sun pears, plum-leaved apples, steamed nuts, mounds of black rice. Each dish was covered with a square of silk embroidered with stars.”

Cuisine of the West:
“Black wine flowed, thick and heavy and sweet . . . On the tables, the bounty of the season filled copper-gilt platters. White peacock with a gold-leaf beak, roasted and soaked in a honey and onion sauce, then stitched back into its feathers, so it gave an impression of life. Damsons plumped in rosewater. Apple halves in a crimson jelly. Spiced blackberry pie with a fluted crust and tiny venison tartlets.”
“Swan pie, woodcock, and roasted goose, baked venison in a rich clove sauce, burbot sprinkled with almond snowflakes and silver leaf, white cabbage and honey-glazed parsnip, mussels seethed in butter and red wine vinegar.”

“Scents wafted from the open market . . . Gingerbread and sugared quinces. Pies to crack open with the flat of a knife, revealing the spiral of pear and cheese and cuts of hard-boiled egg inside. Pancakes drizzled with sugar-brandy.”

There was one passage in the very end of the book, Chapter 72, where the meaning of Loth’s dialogue, “He is dead” was unclear, since he’d just found his sister Margret beside her wounded lover’s cot in the field hospital. Using a name instead of the pronoun “he” would’ve easily fixed the problem.
Out of an 800-page book, this is a minor quibble. The Priory of the Orange Tree is a masterful novel with complexity and depth that will keep fantasy lovers turning pages.

For more epic fantasy novels read The Jasmine Throne, Memories of Ice, Fevered Star,
and A Taste of Gold and Iron. For more dragons read The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fischer.

Fiction: The One-in-a-Million Boy by Monica Wood

9/23/2025

Insightful and heart-opening, The One-in-a-Million Boy explores the nature of love, grief, guilt, and our enduring need for human connection.
The book opens with a transcript of a one-sided conversation: 104-year-old Ona Vitkus answering questions posed by an eleven-year-old Boy Scout.
These delightful transcripts and amusing lists of world record holders scatter the book. The nameless Boy Scout has been assigned to help Ona with her chores on Saturdays, but also aspires to help Ona become a world record holder. His enthusiasm is contagious.
The actual story begins with professional musician Quinn arriving at Ona’s home to continue his son’s commitment to Saturday chores.

In the next chapter we meet Quinn’s ex-wife Belle, the boy’s mother, and experience the complicated emotions churning within both parents. The boy has died suddenly, exacerbating their long unresolved conflicts and longings. Chapter 3 introduces us to the boy and his first meeting with Ona. He’s a quirky, endearing kid, and it’s lovely to meet him through Ona’s growing fondness.

The author’s prose soars in emotion-laden descriptions.
 Quinn’s first impression of Ona:
“She regarded him peevishly, her face a collapsed apple, drained of color but for the small, unsettling, seed-bright eyes. . . . Her voice suggested mashed glass.”
"The old woman shivered. Her stockinged legs looked like rake handles jammed into small black shoes. . . . She sized up Quinn as if considering a run at his clothes.”

An abrupt flash of rage from Quinn later in the story:
“Quinn looked at Gary—reliably sweet-tempered Gary, who owned four dogs . . . All summer Gary had put himself in charge of reminding everybody of their bandmate’s “loss.” . . . he suddenly wanted to yank Gary’s liver up through his throat. Gary, his friend of thirty years.”

Perhaps most profound is the description of Juke, a struggling physician’s assistant who feels responsible for the boy’s death and seeks Quinn's forgiveness:
“Juke’s soft body pitched forward and back, a stutter-step of unstoppable weeping, his features chewed into mismatched pieces: eyes puckered shut, mouth undulating, forehead harrowed, the entire mess gone maroon with misery.”

There are surprising twists and turns in the story—some harrowing—but it is ultimately a redemptive tale with an entirely satisfying ending. The closing chapter is especially delightful, celebrating both Ona’s resiliency and the boy’s indelible influence on everyone he met.
The One-in-a-Million Boy is an expansive journey through the human spirit that celebrates the profound power of friendship. Highly recommended.

Other tales of resilient older women: The Remarkable Retirement of Edna Fischer and Remnant Population
Other heart-warming stories of found friendship: A Snake Falls to Earth and Klara and the Sun

Nonfiction: The Silk Roads by Peter Frankopan

9/15/2025

The Silk Roads: A New History of the World focuses on the pivotal role of Central Asia in long-distance trade, from ancient to modern times.
The narrative begins with the trade of silk from China across the Eurasian steppes to Mesopotamia and the city-states of the Mediterranean. The traders making this arduous trek crossed deserts and mountains, enduring temperature extremes and other hardships in the pursuit of profit.
The book also explores the impact of other other trade goods—spices, incense, amber, furs, horses, and slaves—and the new ideas exchanged along the routes with these luxury items, including Buddhism, Christianity, Zoroastrianism, and Islam.

A consistent theme throughout the book is how wealth and stability facilitate long-distance trade of luxury items. The Persian, Roman, Muslim, and Mongol empires all used their vast wealth to build beautiful monuments and to acquire luxury goods from abroad—often shipped along the same routes as the original Silk Roads.
In Persia: “Spectacular buildings were erected in the huge cities of Babylon, Persepolis, Pasargadae, and Susa, where King Darius built a magnificent palace using the highest-quality ebony and silver from Egypt and cedar from Lebanon, fine gold from Bactria, lapis and cinnabar from Sogniana, turquoise from Khwarezm, and ivory from India.”
Muslim Empire: “At its peak, Baghdad was a magnificent city to behold. With its parks, markets, mosques, and bathhouses—as well as schools, hospitals, and charitable foundations—it was home to mansions “lavishly gilded and decorated and hung with beautiful tapestries and hanging of brocade and silk.”

The original traders supplying these luxury goods along the Silk Roads were Sogdians. “These were traveling merchants from the heart of Central Asia, classic middlemen whose own close-knit networks and efficient use of credit left them ideally positioned to dominate long-distance trade. The key to their commercial success was a dependable chain of stopping points.”
They traded “gold and silver ornaments, such as hair clasps and finely crafted vessels, hemp, linen, woolen cloth, saffron, pepper and camphor, but they specialized in trading silk. Sogdians were the glue that connected towns, oases, and regions together.”

In later eras, Armenians and Jews would fill this critical role of connecting the world through long-distance trade. “Jewish merchants were highly adept linguists, fluent in Arabic, Persian, Latin, Frankish, Andalusian, and Slavic [ . . . and they] travelled regularly to India and China, returning with musk, aloe wood, camphor, cinnamon, ‘and other eastern products’ which they traded along a chain of ports and towns that serviced markets in Mecca, Medina, and Constantinople, as well as towns on the Tigris and Euphrates.”

One of the most fascinating stories in the book was the rise of Islam. Muhammad received his divine inspiration during the Roman-Persian wars, which severely restricted trade, devastating the economies of the southern Arab tribes. Muhammad offered an enticing alternative:
“Spiritual salvation would bring economic rewards. . . . believers would behold nothing less than Paradise, where gardens were fed by fresh and pure water, by ‘rivers of wine delectable to those that drink it, and rivers of clarified honey.’ ”
“This radical and impassioned message met with ferocious opposition from the conservative elite of Mecca [Quraysh], who were enraged by its criticism of polytheistic practices and beliefs. Muhammad was forced to flee to [Medina] . . . ”

Muhammad later established Mecca as the center of Islamic faith.
“By confirming the Ka’ba [the focal point of the polytheistic, pagan religion in Arabia] as sacred, continuity was affirmed with the past, generating a powerful sense of cultural familiarity. [This also] diffused antagonism with the Quraysh to the point that senior members of the tribe pledged their allegiance to Muhammad—and to Islam.”
“This was a faith designed for the local [Arab] populations, whether nomad or urban, whether members of one tribe or another, and regardless of ethnic or linguistic background. . . . Unity was a core tenet, and a major reason for Islam’s imminent success.”

Muhammad extended this idea of unity by allying with Jews and Christians, “People of the Book,” against Rome and Persia. “The Qur-an makes plain that early Muslims saw themselves not as rivals of these two faiths but as heirs to the same legacy: Muhammad’s revelation had previously been ‘revealed to Abraham and Ishmael, To Isaac and Jacob and the tribes’ . . . the prophets of Judaism and Christianity were the same as those of Islam.”
At the height of the Muslim Empire, Rome and Persia were conquered, “Egypt and Mesopotamia had been linked to form the core of a new economic and political behemoth that stretched from the Himalayas through to the Atlantic. . . . Trade routes, oases, cities, and natural resources were targeted and subsumed. Ports that connected trade between the Persian Gulf and China were annexed, as were trans-Saharan trade routes . . . ”

Equally captivating was the genius of Genghis Khan, who united the Mongol tribes into the largest single land empire in history, stretching from Eastern Europe to the Sea of Japan. The authors says:

“Genghis Khan used violence selectively and deliberately. The sack of one city was calculated to encourage others to submit peacefully and quickly; theatrically gruesome deaths were used to persuade other rulers that it was better to negotiate than to offer resistance.”
“Genghis Khan’s use of force was technically advanced, as well as strategically astute. To mount a lengthy siege on fortified targets was challenging and expensive because of the demands of sustaining a large mounted army whose need for pasture could quickly exhaust the surrounding region. For this reason, military technicians who could expedite a swift victory were highly valued. At Nishapur in 1221, [the Mongols used] 3,000 giant crossbows, . . . 3,000 stone hurling machines, and 700 projectors of incendiary material.”

“As a matter of course, those who submitted or were conquered were dispersed across Mongol-controlled territory to weaken bonds of language, kinship, and identity and to aid the assimilation process. . . . All this in turn was reinforced by a centralized system of rewards where booty and tribute were shared out: proximity to the ruling dynasty counted for everything . . . ”
“Sensitive pricing and a deliberate policy of keeping taxes low were symptomatic of the bureaucratic nous of the Mongol Empire [encouraging trade]. In fact, the Mongols’ success lay not in indiscriminate brutality but in their willingness to compromise and cooperate . . . ”

Europe, a relative backwater during most of antiquity, began asserting itself during the crusades. “The Crusade might be best remembered as a war of religion, but it was also the springboard for accruing serious wealth and power. . . . for all the rhetoric about knighthood being motivated by faith and piety, the reality was that self-interest, local rivalries, and squabbling were the order of the day.”
“The Italian city-states were quick to grasp that the seizure of Jerusalem would open up exciting commercial possibilities. . . . Their hand was strengthened further by the Crusaders’ need to secure the littoral and ports such as Haifa, Jaffa, Acre, and Tripoli where maritime power [merchant ships] was essential in mounting a successful siege.”

The impact of European colonialism on the Americas, Africa, and the Near East expand the story of greed and conquest on a global scale. “The age of empire and the rise of the west were built on the capacity to inflict violence on a major scale.”

“From the very outset, the local populations [in the Americas] were identified as potential slaves. Violence quickly became standard. On the island of Cuba in 1513, villagers who arrived to present the Spanish with gifts of food, fish, and bread ‘to the limit of their larder’ were massacred ‘without the slightest provocation,’ in the words of one dismayed observer.”

Violence also characterized the African slave trade:

“Curious village elders and chieftains who marched out to meet those arriving from Europe were routinely butchered on the spot, their shields and spears taken as trophies for the king or crown prince.”
“The African slave trade exploded in the fifteenth century . . . There was considerable demand for manpower to work on farms and plantations in Portugal . . . It was not long before the houses of the wealthy were described as ‘being full to overflowing of male and female slaves,’ allowing their owners to use their capital elsewhere and become even richer.”

The wealth generated by colonial conquests fueled demand for luxury goods in Europe. “Gold and silver taken from the Americas found its way to Asia; it was this redistribution of wealth that enabled the Taj Mahal to be built. Not without irony, one of the glories of India was the result of the suffering of ‘Indians’ on the other side of the world.”

Europe (and later the United States) exerted political sway whenever it suited their economic interests, continuing the oppression of colonialism:
After the First World War, the Middle East was divided: “New countries were created with boundaries that had nothing to do with history, geography, or the wishes of the people living there, but instead simply reflected the interests of Britain and France.”
Similarly, after World War Two, the interests of Europe and the United States drove western dominance in the region, propping up despotic rulers in the interest of securing access to oil—actions that continue to taint attitudes toward the west today.

A companion book written for children, The Silk Roads: An Illustrated New History of the World struck me as a tough read for kids, particularly the graphic passages highlighting gruesome wars.
The book’s sophisticated themes, including self-serving political maneuvering, are only briefly outlined and would benefit from an adult perspective to help frame the events in a broader context.
Neil Packer’s loosely drawn illustrations evoke the text throughout, adding to its emotional complexity—but could be disturbing to younger children.

The closing line of this book for y0unger readers summed up author Peter Frankopan’s premise of both volumes: If history teaches us one lesson, it is that people are in fact often both resilient and practical when it comes to planning for a peaceful future. After all, stability goes hand in hand with prosperity, with tolerance, and with a world that allows each of us to flourish.

For more on Central Asia and international trade in the ancient world, read
The Scythians, Empire of Horses, The Wheel, the Horse, and Language,
and Surprising Gifts of Nomads
For more history on silk fabric, read: The Golden Thread
For more on Native American history in the US, read: The Broken Heart of America

Fiction: Spear by Nicola Griffith

9/9/2025

Spear is the story of Perceval, one of King Arthur’s knights and the original hero who quested for the Holy Grail.  And it’s the story of a young woman raised in the wild by her mother.
One day, the nameless young woman finds a slain knight while roaming the wildwood. She takes his weapons then teaches herself how to throw the spears for hunting.
  When a contingent of knights is beset by bandits, she helps them, attacking the bandits but staying hidden in the trees. The encounter makes her long for the larger world.
  She decides to leave the wildwood; as a parting gift the woman’s mother names her Peretur, spear enduring.

Peretur’s deep connection with the natural world was my favorite part of the story:

"Before harvest, when bee hum spreads drowsy and heavy as honey, she tastes in their busy drone a tale of the stream over which they skim, the falls down which the stream pours, the banks it winds past where reeds grow thick and the autumn bittern booms.

"Sometimes Elm [tree] rocks her gently to sleep in the late spring breeze, or whispers to her of how it is to grow from a sapling, to draw water from deep in the earth, to feel the world turn season after season, and once Elm shows her the sparrowhawk that waits with marigold eyes for the mistle thrush to leave the safety of its nest.

"She listened to the liquid ripple of blackbird song and let herself feel the rise and fall of its tiny breast; watched the scudding approach of cloud from the southeast and let herself feel the gathering of droplets within.

This ability to connect deeply with the world around her serves Peretur well when she faces off against the Red Knight:

" . . . as he came, Peretur felt, through her palm, the wood of her spear; from the wood, the blade; and, at the tip of the blade, a taste of blood—not much blood, for she had barely pricked him—but enough: for now she could feel the Red Knight as she felt herself. Now his knowledge was her knowledge.

Another delightful aspect of the novel was Peretur’s gender identity, which the author handled skillfully. Here, Peretur meets a young maiden, Angharad:

"Her lips were soft and plump as rain and Peretur wanted to plunge her hands deep into her golden yellow hair, deep under her skirts to the soft places beneath, and she could feel their hearts like horses, like horses yoked and racing together, pulling towards the same goal, breath tearing in and out, in and out.

When Peretur places Angharad’s hand between her own legs, to wordlessly explain her gender, I felt acute anxiety at her risk . . . but Angharad is neither scandalized nor deterred, and the two become lovers.
Later in the story, Peredur confides her birth gender to one of the knights:

“I am not his sister-son.”
His eyes stretched wide. He reassessed the line of her jaw, the size of her hands. She nodded.

As the story unfolds, the supernatural source of Peretur’s magical sensitivity to the physical world and her extraordinary strength is revealed, deepening our understanding of her character. There are other fun twists on the Arthurian legend:

the ancient nature of the Grail itself
the Arturus (Arthur)-Gwenhwyfar (Guinevere)-Llanz (Lancelot) triangle
the complex relationship between Myrddyn (Merlin) and Nimue, the Lady of the Lake
the inherent danger of powerful, Otherworldly magic (Excalibur, the Grail) in mortal hands

The book’s ending is both surprising and wonderful: Peretur and Nimue use misdirection and sleight of hand to direct the course of history.
And the closing sentence confirms Peretur’s bright future:
“She cared only for the fact that she was young and strong, her love was in her arms, the fire was warm, and the tide of life was rising, rising within her.”
The Author’s Note at the end of the book is a fascinating essay on King Arthur's legend and how Nicole Griffith selected the elements she chose to weave into her novel.
Spear is a relatively short book at 167 pages, but the story is as rich and deeply layered as much longer books. Highly recommended.

Read other books imbued with land magic:
Song of the Huntress, Sistersong, The Queens of Innis Lear
Read other novels with transgender characters:
The Four Profound Weaves, Light from Uncommon Stars, The Bruising of Qilwa, Sistersong

Fiction: Song of the Huntress by Lucy Holland

9/5/2025

Haunting, powerful, and redemptive, Song of the Huntress takes place several generations after Lucy Holland’s fabulous debut novel, Sistersong. The two books are loosely related, though Song of the Huntress is a standalone novel.
Powerful antagonists threaten the ancient kingdom of Wessex where most of the story takes place: One is the king’s jealous brother, who twists what others say or do to his advantage. He’s been cultivating political ties with other nobles and setting himself up as a more worthy ruler than the actual king.
The other adversary is the Welsh Fairy King, Gwynn ap Nudd. Gwynn has spent hundreds of years plotting to seize dominion of the mortal realm and is about to initiate his final move.

We experience this exciting adventure fantasy through three intriguing characters:

King Ine of Wessex, who prefers to study history and perfect his laws, letting his warrior-wife Aethelburg fight his battles for him. He tries to ignore the growing rift with his wife, the conflicts within his court, and his brother’s antagonism.
Aethelburg, warrior-queen of Wessex, who fights to keep the realm unified despite being criticized by the court for unladylike behavior. Her husband-king Ine’s lack of support infuriates her. Ine also ignores her when she warns him of his brother’s ill-intent.
Herla, an Eceni warrior from the past cursed by Gwynn ap Nudd to lead the Wild Hunt with her band of women warriors on the new moon, killing any mortal they find.

Aethelburg is politically isolated and feels unloved and unappreciated by her husband, Ine, when the novel opens. She’s a passionate woman, but not particularly articulate. We watch Aethel struggle to speak her truth before the men of her husband’s court.
As the story progresses, we get to appreciate her important contribution to the well-being of Wessex and enjoy her determination to navigate political alliances leading up to the final battle. When she gives a rousing speech to the assembled warriors, we see how her confidence blossoms when she whole-heartedly embraces her warrior role.
Her conflicted feelings toward Ine (love, resentment, hurt, desire) add considerable depth to the tale. And her choices at the end of the book are both heart-breaking and absolutely perfect for her character.

My favorite part of the story was the land magic, which the King of Dumonia inadvertently passes on to King Ine. Ine’s Greenman-like introduction to this magic thrills:

“He is on his knees, the floorboards rough between his palms. And then all he sees are trees. Branches wind around his limbs; he bucks, twisting viciously to break free. He gasps for breath, but instead of air, chill earth pours into him, filling him with root and loam until his bones must surely break, flesh giving way before the power of it.”
And a later passage:

“The sound of a bow twanging fills the night, fills Ine’s ears. The anger inside him flares. Abruptly, he can feel the arrow it released, knows where it will strike the unarmed boy. The grain of its wood, the tree it once was part of, the roots that mingle in earth and water, webbing the land. They are veins, he realizes. Veins that lie beneath the skin of a vast being, whose chest rises and falls in perpetual motion like the tide, like the inescapable circle of seasons. All of it flashes across his mind in half an instant before he raises a hand . . . The arrow bursts into splinters.”

Ine begins the story as a coward, avoiding dissension and conflict at the expense of his wife’s standing, his own political power, and the well-being of his people.
By the end of the novel he grows into his potential, both politically and in terms of the land magic he is destined to wield.
At the novel's climax, Ine faces Gwynn ap Nudd and the power of the Otherworld. His greatest challenge, however, is owning up to the ways he has failed his wife, Aethelburg. His pain when he makes amends to her is palpable.
Watching Ine find the courage to face his inner conflicts and external enemies inspires.

Herla is inhuman during much of the story, consumed by the ferocity of the Wild Hunt and burdened by the thousands of souls she’s reaped over the centuries.

In Chapter 2, the Hunt rides as a battle is raging between mortals nearby. Herla swings her sword to cut Aethelburg down in the midst of battle, but it doesn’t go as planned:
“A mailed figure catches Herla’s eye. The earth beneath the warrior is scuffed; she can see weariness in the set of their shoulders, in the way their weapon hangs low. Wheeling her horse, she charges, swings—and the warrior throws themselves flat, leaving Herla’s blade to cut the air. Momentarily stunned, she watches as they rip off their helm with one bloodied hand and eyes like chips of blue ice meet hers. Short fair hair dampened with sweat. A woman, fierce-faced in the lurid night.”

Herla's fascination with Aethel reignites her humanity, which she both resists and desires throughout the story, sometimes preferring the oblivion of the Hunt.

The author deftly unfolds the growing romantic attraction between Aethelburg and Herla, their mutual desire and feverish heat gradually becoming undeniable. It isn’t until page 283 that they share their first kiss, told from Aethel’s perspective:
  “. . . Aethel kisses her. Just a brush, a skim across the surface. But even so brief a touch leaves her light-headed. . . .
  [Aethel] has never been kissed like this before. Not just her lips, but her whole body; a sweet, insistent ache in every limb. The palms of her hands burn where they touch the other woman. Her toes curl in her boots. When Herla draws back just enough to graze her bottom lip with her teeth, Aethel snatches a ragged gasp of air and closes the gap again.
  . . . The fear she has carried so very long—that she does not deserve to be warm, to have the empty well inside her filled—is gone in an instant.”
The contrast between Aethel’s passionate desire for Herla and the cold emptiness she associates with her husband Ine forms the heart of a tense triangle between the three main characters. Herla recognizes the loving bond between the king and queen, though Aethel denies it. Later in the story, Ine struggles with jealousy when his beloved Aethel asks him to help Herla, the woman who loves his wife in ways he cannot.

There is much to love in Song of the Huntress:

Complex and endearing characters making hard choices
Many varieties and depths of intriguing magic
Surprising yet inevitable plot twists
An exciting climax against impossible odds
A poignant and satisfying ending

Other five-star books with awesome characters and land magic:
Sistersong (also by Lucy Holland), Spear, and The Queens of Innis Lear
For a deeper dive into tree-based magic, read Greenman

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