J.S. Fields

Author & Scientist

Review: The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley

Genre: science fiction: space opera / military sci fi mix

Pairings: f/f, f/m

Queer Representation: cis bisexual

Warnings: none

Review

~

I would like to tell you I knew what I was going to do, before that. But I had not seen the true measure of the destruction that the corporations were willing to wreak to consolidate their power.

I wanted to be brave. To be a hero. To carry out orders like a paladin would. I did those things even knowing what the outcome was going to be. I wanted so badly to be the good guy.

But it truly was not until that moment, after I had destroyed everything still good in this world, that I realized I wasn’t a hero…I was just another villain for the empire.

~

Who needs FTL drives when you can just become light? Humans have gone and destroyed Earth (of course) and a handful of mega corporations control the remaining population. Citizenship must be earned, so the poor remain poor unless they earn citizenship, usually through military service to their corporation. Early colonization of Mars went horribly wrong, and now the Martians have returned, and are threatening the tenuous corporate control of Earth.

Dietz is a fresh new recruit in the battle against Mars. Her ‘drops’ don’t take her to new places so much as new times, and she quickly finds herself seeing the war in different locations, with different squads, and across different parts of her own (somewhat fluid) timeline. The book focuses on her emotional journey of understanding, from complete devotion to her corporation (driven by extreme poverty and no other options), to discovering the truth of Mars, to taking control of her drops and movement in time, to saving humanity.

Out of all of Hurley’s books, THE LIGHT BRIGADE is probably the easiest to follow despite the time travel. With only one POV character (and first person!) the narrative is fairly easy to follow. Dietz is a surly character, but the political climate of the book closely mirrors the current situation in the real world, making it very easy to empathize with her views.

“They aren’t our people,” Andria said, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Most are paid protestors. We’re doing a job, just like they are. They were told to disperse or face force. They know what’s coming.”

“They aren’t even armed,” Omalas said.

“Some may be,” Andria said.

 

In Hurley fashion, Dietz has a primary interest in women, though she does hook up with a man as well during the course of the book (also in Hurley fashion, genders outside the binary are completely absent). She mostly moves through the book alone, watching most of her friends and colleagues die gruesome deaths from drop accidents, artillery, etc.

The strength of the book is really in Dietz’s journey to understanding the ‘sides’ of the war, and who is really fighting whom.

I wanted to punch him. Scream at him. Because in that moment I had no idea who “us” was.

“I’m here to fight the bad guys,” I said.

“Then you’re with us,” he said, and marched me to the cafeteria with the others.

 

And of course, there are some great one-liners:
“You know you’ll have to fight the aliens,” I said, before Frankie could get a word out, “not just fuck them.”

 

Muñoz perked up. “You have a girlfriend, Dietz?”

“Not anymore.”

“Does she know that?” Muñoz said.

 

THE LIGHT BRIGADE is pretty quintessential space opera/military sci fi. Much stronger on the political messaging than other Hurley books, this one is also a lot easier to follow. Good solid sci fi, though heavy handed enough in places that it likely won’t be a reread classic.

You can try your own drop and see if you can join the Light Brigade here.

 

 

Review: Lucky 7 by Rae D Magdon

Genre: science fiction: dystopian

Pairings: f/f (could also be classed as f/nonbinary, the character in question hasn’t quite decided)

Queer Representation: cis bisexual, asexuality, trans, nonbinary

Warnings: none

Review

There’s nothing in the world as good as making a beautiful girl come.

Jacker Elena is on the run from AxysGen after the death of her crew during some ‘illegal’ activity.

Handler Sasha, an operative team leader, just lost her jacker and the rest of her crew in a botched operation. She can’t find a crew without a new jacker, and Elena needs a place to hide, STAT. AxysGen has a hit out on Sasha, too. If any of them are going to survive, they need to be deleted from AxysGen’s databases. And they can’t do that without a jacker. Or Sasha’s crew.

Elena and Sasha must work together to find Sasha’s crew and prevent AxysGen from finding Elena. The deeper they get into the the virtual world, however, the more layers of AxysGen peel away and the more Sasha’s past, including her ex-girlfriend, come back to haunt them.

LUCKY 7 is a fast paced dystopian sci-fi novel that starts with action on page one and does not let up. Unfortunately the action comes at the steep cost of stakes and character buy-in, and the first third of the book is entirely skimmable. The gems of attraction between Sasha and Elena are well done, but do little to progress the narrative forward. Elena’s character is poorly developed, as is her motivation, and Sasha’s ice queen attitude leaves her functionally emotionless.

The book takes a hard right turn at the one third point, with a steamy shower sex scene that breaks through our ice queen’s exterior and gives the reader some much needed emotional interplay. There’s consensual power play here, too, and it is hot as fuck. The book is worth buying for the sex scenes alone (there are three!).

But something in me wants to fight. To push back against her dominance, to show her I’m not just some warm body she can bruise because she hates me. I need her to fuck me, but she doesn’t get to unless I fuck her back.

~~

Somehow, I know I’ll never tire of bringing her over the edge. “Come for me,” I growl into the dip of her collarbone, close enough for her to feel my lips on her skin. “I want you to come for me.”

Halfway through the book changes POVs from Elena to Sasha, and it is at this point that the narrative takes off. Sasha’s POV is rich and complex, and the reader cannot help but be fascinated as she learns about her forgotten past, her relationship with her ex, Megan, and the secrets behind the ship’s AI. With an emotional hook, the storyline and plot pack a punch. The stakes raise, the crew becomes more three-dimensional. You care about Sasha. You root for Sasha. Sasha is the ideal unreliable narrator.

The A plot, of Elena running from the evil corporation, takes a quick backseat to the B plot of Sasha’s origins and the motivations of Megan. The B plot is by far the stronger of the two. Megan is the perfect villain–delightfully self absorbed with just enough humanity to make her relatable. The clone situation is excellent, the AI a delight, and Sasha, again, steals the show.

Another bonus: the representation in the book is phenomenal. Elena is Mexican (with brown skin), Sasha is black, and the richness of Elena’s background comes through in so many fantastic phrases and snippets of history. There is no white default in this book-white people are described via skin tone upon first introduction as much as the numerous people of color.

“If anyone tries to speak to you, let me do the talking,” Rami mutters from the corner of their mouth. “Just give them a white people smile.”

“The close-lipped ‘I acknowledged you, now please go away’ gringo smile?”

“Exactly.”

The trans rep, in particular, really struck a chord with me. One of the crew is trans, but it is the exploration of Sasha’s gender identity that was the most compelling. It is rare to see a true exploration of the nonbinary experience in queer fiction. So much is either a nonbinary person just being a person and having adventures, or being a side character. Sasha’s explanation of her gender, and Elena’s intuitive understanding, cemented their relationship as one of the best I’ve read in lesbian fiction. In a culture where the butch identity was long used as a dumping ground for both gender and gender identity, having one branch explored at length, and with deep sensitivity, was absolutely amazing.

I know from her smile that she’s joking, but my confidence falters. I know what Elena wants, but I’m not sure I’ll be ante to give it to her. I’ve got baggage around sex, around trust, around my body, and although I feel good in my skin tonight, I can’t guarantee she’ll get the results she wants, no matter how hard she tries.

~~

My face heats up. I’ve tried thinking about it that way sometimes, more often before I bought my first prosthetic. Once in a while, it works. Usually it doesn’t. There are aspects of womanhood I still connect and identify with, but my parents aren’t one of them. And even thought I know all too well that body parts don’t make a woman, being touched that way feels…vulnerable. In a good way, on some occasions, but more often in a not-good way.

~~

Once my hands are dry, I consider what to do about my swimsuit. The decision to pull down my trunks is an easy one, but my top is more difficult. It bares my midriff, but keeps my chest fairly flat. The look of hunger that takes over Elena’s face is enough to tempt me out of it. Her dark eyes have zeroed in as I pull it off, and her tongue leaves a glistening line on her lips as she wets them. I’m naked, but thanks to her admiration, I don’t feel overexposed.

~~

It’s a feeling of freedom, of knowing I can fly without the fear of falling. It has everything to do with the face that it’s Elena between my legs.

She’s memorized more of me in a few weeks than other people have bothered to learn in years, and I actually feel comfortable enough to teach her. It’s different. Powerful. A little scary. Bit it’s also all kinds of good, and I know I’d be a fool to give it up. I’m not even sure I can.

You can find your own curvy hacker in paperback here and ebook here. Consider supporting an independent bookstore by buying it here.

 

Double bonus: this scene

“You blew up the front door,” Rami yells back, taking the steps two at a time.

“Because I love you,” Cherry hollers. “Even though you left me in Brazil!”

“How do you run so fast in heels?” I gasp as I stagger down the front steps. I don’t know how Sasha finds all these magical bitches who can run ops in perfect makeup and designer shoes, but if I wasn’t terrified of dying, I’d be jealous.

 

And the best description of this particular flavor of bisexuality to date:

“Not my type, kid. I like pretty boys with long eyelashes and girls who look like they could step on my windpipe with their jackboot and make me thank them for it.”

Review: Crier’s War by Nina Varela

Genre: fantasy: dark  (YA)

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian (potentially bi or pan, not explicitly stated)

Warnings: some potentially problematic interpretations of asexuality and aromanticism

Review

Once upon a time there was a queen so desperate for a child that she had one Made. As with all things involving royalty, Made people became all the rage, and soon the continent was filled with Automae.

Like any good sci fi tale, the Automae were treated as servants/pets and of course, rebelled. Automae won the war and now rule over humankind, occupying the latter’s former palaces and social structures.

Enter Ayla. Orphaned by Automae slaughter (including her twin brother…maybe), her only goal in life is to bring down the Made and cut off their source of power–a special mineral that must be mined from specific source. More immediately, she can best hurt the Made by killing Princess Crier, and very early on in the book she is conveniently hired as the princess’ handmaiden.

Of course, feelings get felt. Ayla’s never had much interest in romance (only REVENGE) and Crier is an automae (who are canon asexual and aromantic… in theory). Turns out that Crier may have the Flaw of Passion inside her, which her fiancé’, Kinok, has no problem holding against her.

While Crier struggles to identify friends and enemies at court and understand her (lack of) place in the monarchy, Alya’s narrow view of the Made is threatened by Crier’s attempts at friendship. A human rebellion is also brewing, and Crier and Ayla must decide which side they are on before the truth about Ayla’s past is revealed and the balance of power is forever changed.

CRIER’S WAR is an f/f enemies to ‘lovers’ tale, and very much a setup book for a longer series. The worldbuilding is fun if not a little generic, and the pacing distinctly YA in that an inordinate amount of time is spent mentally rehashing events and feeling feelings, which drags down the pacing. For a YA book, the pacing moves at a strong clip. For an adult book (which it isn’t, so it shouldn’t be judged as such) it is slow.

The two POVs, Ayla and Crier, are distinct and easy to empathize with. Crier has many android stereotypes, including lack of sexuality/passion, problems with emotion, super strength, etc. Ayla is all hot-blooded passion, most directed at the kill side of things (yay! stabby lesbians!). They’re a natural pairing, and Varela does a nice job of slowly ramping up the tension between the two and then backing it down with real problems, such as, how do you kiss a girl whose family killed yours?

The worldbuilding takes an interesting look at the Automae and humanity. While recent fiction has driven stories of androids wanting to improve upon human tech and dwellings and such (and certainly never retaining human rituals), CRIER’S WAR shows the POV of androids who actually embrace and retain all the silly little bits of human culture, like marriage and birthdays. It’s a very strong showcase of the book’s central theme, that the Automae, despite being Made, are human.

The only real issue in the book comes from how it interprets what makes us ‘human.’ Crier believes for a good part of the book that she is Flawed with Passion. This ‘allows’ her to fall in love with Ayla and become, as the book presents it, more human. The Automae are described, functionally, as Data from Star Trek, complete with ‘going crazy if your emotions go into overdrive’ trope. They’re beautiful, but heartless.

A few have bucked that stereotype and are presented as more compassionate and more human–by taking lovers. Crier is also presented in a similar light, where it is her love for Ayla and budding sexuality that turn her away from the ways of her android people and help her better understand humanity, and empathy. And, yes this sort of development is a fairly common trope in sci fi and fantasy, it still comes at the expense of an often trampled part of the queer spectrum. Sex, attraction, desire, romance, these aren’t things that make us human. For many they are an important part of self, but for others they aren’t. Asexual and aromantic people are still human. They don’t need to fall in love to have empathy, much as atheists don’t need to find religion to be good people.

Representation gripes aside, CRIER’S WAR is exceptionally well written, with an almost lyrical prose reminiscent of THE TIGER’S DAUGHTER (which was not without its own representation issues as well). The book does not stand alone, in that no plot arcs are resolved and the reader must continue to the next book to continue the narrative, but the character development is well worth it.

The cover is gorgeous, and well worth having in hardback for the embossing and delicate bronze imagery. The plot is complex enough that teens would likely be deeply engrossed (It’s not a trope if its your first exposure to it!), and the tandem coming-of-age stories of Ayla and Crier should resonate with many younger readers.

It’s not a book I would have on my own bookshelf, but it’s one I would hold for my kid, for sure.

You can mine some Iron Heart and make your own android in paperback here, ebook here, and audiobook here.

 

 

Review: Peacemaker by E.M. Hamill

This is a review for the second book in a series. You can read the review for the first book here.

Genre: science fiction: space opera

Pairings: nonbinary/f, nonbinary/m

Queer Representation: nonbinary

Warnings: violence, gore

Review

The attack did not stop at nightfall. The sunset truce lay shattered, the hour of the goddess defiled.

Dalí is once again tapped to play negotiator in this action-packed sequel to DALÍ. Recalled from their undercover op by the Remoliad security council, Dalí is asked to look into events related to Ursetu’s emergency petition to join the Reoliad. Their crown princess has died, leaving only the queen and grandson alive. Her death is deemed an attack by the Shontavians–genetically engineered mercenaries considered nonsentient by their creators.

Was it a directed killing or a botched group assignation? Was the Shontavian breeding and engineering facility attacked as well, or did the creatures plan their own escape? Either way, Shontavians are on the loose, a monarchy’s line of ascension is in trouble, and Dalí seems to the only negotiator anyone can agree on.

Dalí, unfortunately, is still battling personal demons. They’re back on their addictive vape, which almost cost a friend their life. They’re still haunted by the murder of their husband and wife. Rage comes so, so easily to them, as does passion. But compassion, both to themself and those around them, is a skill Dalí must learn if they are to negotiate for the royal line and the Shontavian, who are much, much more than they seem.

Fans of sci-fi action, bio-engineering morality questions, and fast pacing will enjoy PEACEMAKER. Readers are thrust directly into the action that does not let up until the end, journeying from mines to addition, to violent fights, to passionate alley sex.

Although technically a space opera, the book paces more as military sci fi, with little time spent on character development (relying on book one’s work) and focusing almost solely on plot. It is for this reason that I failed to connect as deeply with PEACEMAKER as I did with DALÍ. There’s action, yes, and politics, yes, but the heart seemed to be missing that had so entranced me in book one. Dalí doesn’t connect so much as they fight–everything–which is plot relevant but also not a strong way to hook readers looking for sympathetic protagonists.

The biggest emotional connections come from the Shontavians and the complexity of their bioengineering. Their development, history, and mythology are breathtaking both in simplicity and effect. Their training will crush you. Their dreams will destroy you. How Dalí negotiates for them, and their eventual solution, is both perfect and deeply moving.

E.M. Hamill’s trademark humor is still present in PEACEMAKER, though somewhat more buried:

“You get off on this, don’t you?” I accused her.

“I want your body. For experiments, anyway. Shut up and close your eyes.”

And of course, the representation presented by Dalí, of a blend between intersex and nonbinary (Dalí can change their sexual anatomy and hormone profile at will, which drags their gender along with it. This makes them both gender fluid and sex fluid, though Dalí identifies as third gender, and defaults to a sexless state when among friends) is very well done:

In the warmth and vibration, I shuddered as the last of the physical characteristics I’d adapted to pass as male shifted back into my neutral, sexless state. My crewmates didn’t expect me to assume a gender, something for which I remained grateful. Without hormone stimulation to drive the change, the process was more painful, and my shoulders complained against the grind of bone and muscle.

As an intersex person with hormone fluctuations that physically impact how my body showcases my secondary (and sometimes primary) sex characteristics, I found Dalí’s explanations of the hormone surges and accompanying body changes very relatable (though of course extended out for sci fi), and appreciated how the mental gender moved but didn’t necessarily change as a result. For that reason alone, this book is an excellent read. Representation matters, and there is too little in the intersex world, especially at the intersection of intersex and nonbinary.

You can pick yourself a nice genital set and decide some intergalactic ethics in paperback here or ebook here.

Review: Space Unicorn Blues by T.J. Berry

Genre: science fiction: space opera

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian, trans woman, asexuality

Warnings: murder unicorns

Review

There was also a healthy contingent of planet bound xenophobes who had never made peaces with the fact that the first aliens humans had encountered were an envoy of talking unicorns who offered to teach them farming.

—

Survey a thousand cultures from throughout the universe and each would have terrifying stories about thin grey aliens with huge black eyes who visited their planet to poke at them. The Pymmie were only a meter tall, but able to control space, time, and matter with alarming proficiency. You could see the intelligence behind their murky eyes, but also a horrifying indifference. They simply went about their grand experiment without concerning themselves with trivial matters like suffering. The Pymmie were not particularly  clandestine with their experiments, the same way that an entomologist would not bother to conceal her presence from an ant.

It’s been one hundred years since the god-like Pymmie brokered a peace between humanity and the Bala–a wide array of fantasy creatures that turned out (surprise!) to be real. The Pymmie promised to return and check in on things right at the one hundred year mark.

That’s only a few days away, and humanity has really, really screwed things up.

Gary is a half unicorn man (unicorns are magical and born in stars. Don’t get gross) fresh out of prison. Jenny is a decorated Reason officer who once held Gary captive and dug into his skull to harvest his horn to power her spaceship. Her wife is also a dryad. It’s complicated.

Unfortunately for all of them, the Sisters of the Supersymmetrical Axiom have had a vision that involves Jenny, Garry, Cowboy Jim (lover of grilled cheese sandwiches and deeply morally grey), and Ricky Tang (morally grey but in a different way, hunter of fortune, trans woman with a killer sense for suckers). Together they have to get a stoneship to the Summit to meet the Pymmie at exactly the appointed date and time, while being chased by Reason officers who want to harvest Gary for parts and trying to rescue Jenny’s wife. In order to engage the FTL, however, they need unicorn horn, and Gary isn’t too keen on letting Jenny back at his skull.

SPACE UNICORN BLUES is the perfect space opera, blending fantasy elements (literally–the Bala are all mythological creatures from Earth’s history, like hippogryphs, angels, unicorns, fauns, etc.) and future tech into a fantastic colonial comeuppance story. In some places grim, in many places hilarious (elf sperm is a natural glamor if you rub it all over your body!), every word packs a punch.

In an interesting style, many parts of the book function like a recap from a previous book (this is, in fact, book one), recounting the history of Jenny and Gary that the reader never gets to see. However, this recap pushes the plot faster than an FTL drive, allowing for sufficient backstory for the character to grow and evolve from the first page.

SPACE UNICORN BLUES shines in the representation department, too: no white default with skin tones, a disabled lead who is not cured (and is fine with it), and queer representation all over the place:

“If you mean Miss Tang, then she’s hosting the game table,”…

“The last time I was here, Ricky was a-“

“A charming host who you will find at the game table,” finished the bartender firmly.

—

Ricky’s face froze. “Oh. Are the legends really true? Unicorns are asexual? My apologies.”

It also gives a soldi study to male privilege, hilarious showcased in an example below:

Ondre launched into a detailed explanation of stoneship control mechanisms. Jenny had learned that while blasting your way out of situations worked middlingly well, the best way to extract yourself from under a man’s control was to pretend you needed his expertise. You could stall for hours with a few well-timed uniformed questions.

White privilege is also called out:

It was interesting to Gary that though the three nations that had come together to form the Reason were ostensibly equal, the officers were almost always pink people.

And, of course, there are quality sex jokes:

“Hey, since you mentioned weather forecasters, what do you call oral sex with a meteorologist who has a vagina?”

“What?” Cheryl Ann looked genuinely curious.

“Cumulolingus,” said Jenny.

and puns! (the one below is a Sister yelling at a birch dryad)

“Move it, birch, or I’ll weave a basket from your limbs,” said one Sister.

There is no reason to not buy this book. None. Adventure, romance, lesbians, unicorns, elf semen… there really is nothing else a reader could want. Grab a piece of unicorn horn and watch humanity get spanked in paperback here and ebook here. Also available in audio!

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