J.S. Fields

Author & Scientist

Review: Debris Dreams by David Colby

Genre: science fiction: military

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: trans*, cis lesbian, cis gay man, nonbinary

Warnings: use of the term ‘slated eyes’ to refer to people of Chinese descent, classifying binary trans as a separate gender (WTF???)

Review

It’s rare that I so deeply dislike a book that I know within four chapters that it is going in the trash, and not even in a book box. To be fair, we didn’t start out on a great foot. It’s YA and I generally do not care at all for YA. There’s always the odd exception, so I tend to plod through just in case.

This was a bad decision.

If you’re a fan of military sci fi, it definitely does have that, with all the mind-numbing battle scenes lacking any sort of solid character development (clearly I am also not a fan of military sci fi) that one would expect. The beginning is also decent, with our introduction to Drusilla Zhao, a sixteen-year-old girl who lives in the Hub, which is a sort of space station at the top of a really long elevator that connects Earth with space. It’s used almost exclusively by the Chinese-American Alliance to exploit the moon, which is sort of a future Australia colonized (and worked) by convicts et al.

The convicts get mad that all their hard work functionally saved the ecological crisis Earth was facing and, tired of being always put in harms way to benefit a planet they can’t go to, they blow up the giant elevator. Drusilla’s parents are killed (they’re engineers on it) and she and all the teens in group care are automatically conscripted into the military. This is especially hard on Drusilla, as her girlfriend lives on Earth as a civilian.

At this point we move into a sort of Starship Troopers sort of deal, without the comedy, and it’s battle after battle in the traditional trope of Drusilla eventually realizing she’s on the wrong side of the battle, etc. There isn’t much point to it, and no major stakes other than WAR! ZOMG! over and over, as we wait for inevitable turning point for our heroine.

The worldbuilding of the Chinese-American Alliance feels very Firefly to me, though with a bit more thought about the integration of the language (the frequent non-English words used appear to have been proofed by native speakers, so that’s decent). Still, language readers appeared to have missed this gem:

He was a young kid, younger than me, with the regular mixing of blonde curls and slanted eyes that marked most of the post-Slump generation.

For reference, the only people who routinely have slanted eyes, truly slanted eyes, are those with Down Syndrome. Other than that, slants to eyes occur across most populations, including European. *sigh*

But what had me yelling at the book over and over was its treatment of trans people as some sort of foreign gender:

Boys and girls and trans and unidentified around me groaned and rubbed at sore and bruised and tweaked muscles.

So instead of spending your day screwing your brains out with some of your best friends, writing letters to girlfriends or boyfriends or transfriends, or sitting in a corner sobbing until it hurts you get to much out the vats.

Trans men are men and trans women are women. They’re not some alien gender we don’t know what to do with. If you’re dating a trans woman, she’s your girlfriend. If you’re dating a trans man he’s your boyfriend. I’ve seen ‘xefriend’ used for the nonbinary equivalent (and quite like it) but ‘transfriend’ just smacks of othering, and really, really upset me.

There’s some nice neopronoun use and a mention of androgyne as a gender, so it’s clear the author was trying, and I get that. But this is what sensitivity readers are for. With the trans issues combined with the ‘slant eyes’ comment, I will not be providing buy links for this book. I do not recommend it, although I think with a few edits it could be a really nice YA military sci fi.

Review: Fall of the Imperium by William C. Tracy

Genre: science fantasy

Pairings: m/m/f

Queer Representation: bisexuality, pansexuality, nonbinary (multiple types, including third gender, agender, gender fluid)

Warnings: none

Review

In this final book in the Dissolution Cycle trilogy, Sam journeys to a new Nether facet to learn about his two unusual house colors, Enos attempts to recover from her time with her kidnappers, and Inas grows into his Aridori body (as well as a bunch of the old Speaker’s memories). The romance between the three apprentices heats up (there’s a cute little SFW sex scene in there), and Sam learns to draw strength from his friends to help manage (not cure!) his anxiety.

Of course, all is not well in the Nether. Elgynerdeen (giant millipede things that eat Nether crystal) keep dropping out of Drains all over the Imperium. They eat anything and anyone in their path, and seem to be hell bent on something in the Assembly Hall. We also have an ancient Aridori civil war resurfacing, Sam battling with the weird voice in his head (while trying to sort out the House of Time and the House of Matter), and yeah, a bunch of teenagers running around trying to keep the adults from dying.

Fans of the series will enjoy the tie-ins to all the various novellas. Mandamon makes several appearances, as do the Pixies, and mention is made of the new species above the Nether clouds that was learned about in JOURNEY TO THE TOP OF THE NETHER (the middle grade novella).

It’s a great wrap to the trilogy, with plenty of plot threads to keep the series well alive. Tracy has created an expansive universe with no end in sight to the potential worldbuilding, and it’s always fun to play around in the giant sandbox of music-based science fantasy. And as always, the nonbinary representation remains strong. My favorite passage from this book:

Now he looked closer, Inas didn’t think the pronoun encompassed multiple personalties as for the assassins or the Accretion. Instead it denoted someone who did not belong to a male or female gender. There had been a few in his family line who chose similar pronouns, though Aridori tended to separate themselves into binaries, perhaps because being born as two instances–two possibilities unfolding–predetermined them into dual categories.

You can join the Great Assembly of Species by buying the book here!

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: 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.

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