Review of Warhawk by Chris Wraight

And the Siege continues. Warhawk by Chris Wraight (2021) takes the conflict to the next level. In Mortis, traitor forces pushed hard on the walls of the Emperor's Palace and breached the Lion's Spaceport. Honoring an oath, Jaghatai Khan rallies the White Scars for a counter-strike; the port's role is critical to Loyalist plans for stopping Horus. But Horus has other plans.

Warhawk follows a handful of sub-plots. Primary is Khan honoring his promise—or at least trying. The second is a secret Loyalist plan to refurbish a destroyed space platform and use it as a battle station. In a third, Mortarion and the Death Guard close the open threads of The Buried Dagger—coming to terms with their bodily changes due to Chaos. Further plot points still, Imperial Fist Sigismund gets a new sword that seems to have power of its own, in turn becoming a focal point for Traitor forces. And lastly, we have Olli shenanigans; the Perpetuals' mission draws closer to ending, and in doing so he finds deeper questions than originally thought.

Review of Mortis by John French

Titandeath, 53rd book in the Horus Heresy, was the BIG titan one. It's the one which properly put the massive war engines on the field of battle and turned them loose. Mortis (2021), fifth book in the Siege of Terra, turns what's left—horned or unhorned—toward the Emperor's Palace.

Mortis takes Horus' siege on Terra to the next level in bombastic fashion. World Eaters, Death Guard, Word Bearers, and Chaos continue their assault on the walls, and now, titans are unleashed from deep storage in the Emperor's palace to battle the Chaos titans Horus drops from space. The fields start to run slick, not only with blood, but also oil, prometheum, and all other manner of chemicals leaking from the damaged and destroyed siege engines. The war antes up.

Review of Midnight Tides by Steven Erikson

I am in the middle of my first re-read of the Malazan Book of the Fallen. Memory of the first read of Midnight Tides (2004) is: the most organic story in the series to date. Erikson loves jumping between settings and characters as often as he can, but Midnight Tides felt more contained, more streamlined. Let's do a memory check.

The first four books in the Malazan series bounced between the continents of Genabackis and Seven Cities. Midnight Tides takes readers to an entirely new region: North Lether. The area is beyond Malazan imperial control. A different set of groups vie for power, meaning the reader gets a (welcome) break from the endless scenes of soldiers' gallows humor. The Tiste Edur and the Letherii take center stage. A savage history between the two, the Letherii antagonize through commerce (legal and illegal) while the Tiste Edur tend to more traditional values by forcing fealty and hierarchy, trying to keep the Letherii to heel. When the Letherii raid a Tiste Edur hunting ground, the king of the Edur decides to take advantage of the opportunity and bring to bear a power none on Lether have seen in millennia.

Review of The Fury of Magnus by Graham McNeill

After three straight novels of space marines attacking space marines, wave after wave, Graham McNeill's novella The Sons of the Selenar offered an excellent respite. Catching up with things beyond Terra, it looked at what was happening with the Shattered Legions on the outskirts, and told a compelling story in the process. McNeill's second novella in the Siege of Terra series, The Fury of Magnus (2020), likewise takes a look at a character who has largely been sitting by the side. Things, however, eventually get even closer to Terra—even more so than Horus has been able to achieve—to date, at least.

Magnus is aloof, perhaps the most cerebral primarch among the Traitors. As such, his involvement in the Siege of Terra has been ambiguous to date. He allowed the Shattered Legions carrying the legacy of the Selenar to escape without a fight, yet he appears to be loyal to Horus and the goal of tearing down the Emperor. Inherent to the novella's title, The Fury of Magnus cracks open the primarch to see what is boiling inside.

Review of Alas, Bablyon by Pat Frank

If there were ever a place to explore the potentialities of the Cold War, it was through fiction. Mushroom clouds in the imagination are a much better place to perform experiments of how things might turn out if somebody finally 'pushed the button'. And indeed there was a good chunk of fiction through the 50s and 60s exploring what nuclear world war might look like. One of the better specimens, at least of the six or seven that I've read, is Pat Frank's Alas, Babylon (1959).

Alas, Babylon is the story of several people, but none so dominant as Randy Bragg. Korean War veteran now attorney, he lives in Fort Repose, a rural area of inland Florida. Randy's brother Mark calls one day, telling him to start preparing for the big one in secret. Tensions with Russia are about to boil over. The H-bombs fly and Randy's world as he knows it is turned upside down. Miami, Orlando—the majority of the US blown to smithereens, Randy and his small town acquaintances must all take a new tack on life, one increasingly stiff by the day.

Review of Saturnine by Dan Abnett

The assault on the Emperor's Palace is in full swing. Horus throws his forces, wave after wave, at the kilometer high walls, looking for a breakthrough. The forces of Chaos have been unleashed, and now attack the walls along with the traitor legions. In Dan Abnett's Saturnine (2020) something has to give. But where?

Assault after assault, bomb after bomb, death after death. Horus' attack on Terra is starting to have an effect. Endless supplies of munitions becoming finite, Rogal Dorne's storage facilities are starting to run dry. And with The Lion and Guillaume still nowhere to be found, the manpower the Emperor can throw at the traitor legions is starting to come up short. Dorne cannot keep up with Horus' volume of men and materiel. Hard decisions now sit in directly front of Rogal Dorne, no avoiding them. Horus is attacking at four critical junctures, but only three can be defended. Does Dorne have one last trick up his sleeve for his nemesis Peturabo at Saturnine Gate, or is the writing on the wall?

Review of House of Chains by Steven Erikson

It's an understatement to say Steven Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen series is an acquired taste. It's a MASSIVE fictional world that seems to be constantly in flux. Every chapter, every book requires the reader to update their knowledge. Each book is also different in its own right; Erikson evolves his style volume to volume. It all makes for shaky footing that a minority of readers have the patience for. For me it's here, the fourth book in the series House of Chains (2002), that things solidified.

For those paying attention—which can be difficult given the plethora of plotlines and endless-endless strings of characters running through the series—Sha'ik's rebellion in Deadhouse Gates was unresolved. The desert folk found a new Sha'ik in Helisin, but the Whirlwind didn't actually whirl. At the beginning of House of Chains, Adjunct Tavore arrives on the Seven Cities continent with a rebuilt Malazan army to finally put an end to the Whirlwind, and maybe patch ends with her sister, Helisin. Memories of Ice revealed that the Crippled God was looking to take down the system, and in House of Chains he recruits more servants to achieve this goal. Everyone's goals—the Whirlwind's, the Crippled God's, and the Malazan Empire's—come to a crashing, massive head that leaves the series wide open.

Close But No Cigar: Response to Library of America's Nine Classic Science Fiction Novels of the 1950s

A decade ago, the Library of America released the set Nine Classic Science Fiction Novels of the 1950s. The series was edited, or perhaps more accurately, curated by Gary Wolfe. Wolfe is a genre personage who I often disagree with, but a person who I respect, particularly his knowledge of 20th century science fiction. Wolfe is a proper scholar and a person to be trusted when looking to curate such a series. Nevertheless, differences in opinion there are, and it's in those differences that my views have been percolating for ten years, waiting until I've read enough sf from the 50s to have an informed rebuttal. With more than thirty-five novels from the decade under my belt (and this post sitting in my drafts folder for all that time) I think I've reached that point. In the very least I will introduce you to some old school science fiction that perhaps wasn't on your radar before.

For a bit of historical context, the 1950s was the time science fiction made itself respectable in the US. Writers like H.G. Wells, Aldous Huxley, Olaf Stapledon and others had been writing a more literary style of science fiction for decades, but they were based in Europe. (Yes, you Brits, you are European.) To that point America had almost exclusively driven down the road with signposts like: damsels in distress, men in tight jumpsuits, slavering aliens, laser blasters, and Pulp Ahead! A difficult era to take seriously (save for collectors and connoisseurs, natch), the Golden Age of scientifiction in the US is stinky cheese at its worst and fun escapism at its best. It took writers like Ray Bradbury, James Blish, Theodore Sturgeon, Alfred Bester and several others in the 50s to inject the genre with a bit of rigor and raise standards—to comb the genre's hair, brush it's teeth, put on clean clothes, and teach it a little etiquette. In real terms, this meant improving technique, cleaning up syntax and diction, interweaving metaphor and theme with plot, device, and character, etc. They pioneered what most now refer to as the Silver Age of science fiction.

Review of Sons of the Selenar by Graham McNeill

The first handful of books in the Siege of Terra have steadily ramped pressure. The Solar War, The Lost & the Damned, and The First Wall saw Horus attack the solar system, land on Terra, and assault the Emperor's palace with everything he has. And each book featured varying perspectives on the brutal, relentless assault. Graham McNeill's novella Sons of the Selenar (2020) offers readers a break in the Siege of Terra action—a Meanwhile, back in the galaxy... moment to catch up with what's happening with the so-called Shattered Legions

The Iron Hands, Salamanders, and Raven Guard are aboard the ship Sisypheum. But without a primarch to command them, opinions abound as the group decides whether to chase rumors of a resurrected captain or return to Terra to join the fight. While they eventually decide on one of the two options, it is far from their ultimate destination. The third way forcing itself upon the group, what they must do has repercussions far beyond Horus' assault on Terra.

Review of Memories of Ice by Steven Erikson

Gardens of the Moon, first book in the Malazan Book of the Fallen series, was a bit of a false start. Whether due to publisher pressure or Erikson's unwillingness to jump feet first into the fire, the novel is limited. It doesn't know how to properly set a scene for maximum impact and distinguishing the plethora of characters is a challenge. Deadhouse Gates, second book in the series, was a clear step forward. Scenes hit harder and characters started to pop. But it had a large amount of content, not all of which felt value-add. I think it's here at the third book, Memories of Ice (2001), that Erikson finally hits the series' stride. There are still issues, but at least they are by design.

The story of Memories of Ice occurs in parallel to that of Deadhouse Gates. While the Whirlwind rebellion builds in the Seven Cities in Deadhouse, a tyrant of the Pannion Domin threatens the city of Capustan in Memories. The Domin are a massive foe,, heedless of life or civility, who force an unlikely alliance between the Malazan Empire, the warlord Caladran Brood and his army, and the Tiste Andii led by Anomander Rake. An uneasy truce, the band nevertheless know they have no recourse but to take on the tyrant, discover which god is backing him, and stop the takeover of the Genabackis continent.

Review of Fairyland by Paul McAuley

Paul McAuley is in that late stage of a career so many science fiction writers unfortunately find themselves: decent production but without the fanfare it once received. His most recent books have received middling media coverage—a far cry from 90s' McAuley, a McAuley who was one of the top dogs of British sf. One of the reasons, if not the biggest reason, was 1995's Fairyland. Standing up to the winds of time even in 2025, let's take a look.

Fairyland is the story of middle-aged, overweight biohacker Alex Sharkey. At least it begins that way. Author of many popular street drugs, he spends his days in a dim apartment cooking up bioengineered narcotics and his nights trying to repay the debts he owes a local London gangster. Stuck in the cycle, Sharkey finds himself in the unenviable position of having to create a gene splice that goes far beyond the legality of his already illegal drug manufacture. Kick starting an evolutionary leap he knew was likely but couldn't stop, London proves to be only the beginning of Sharkey's story, as soon enough the world will know of his creation.

Review of The First Wall by Gav Thorpe

Horus' approach to the heart of his ambitions started in The Solar War and landed on Terra in The Lost and the Damned. The assault on the Emperor's mountain fortress achieves a critical point in Gav Thorpe's The First Wall (2020).

Having made his way through the solar system, Horus stands at the doorstep of Terra. Below him, the Lion's Gate Spaceport sits as a meaty target. Take it over, and there is a path into the Emperor's fortress. But this is the one thing Rogal Dorne, primarch of the Imperial Fists, knows he cannot let happen. He has set up and organized defenses to repel what he thinks Horus will throw at him. In response, Horus gives Peturabo, his cleverest primarch, the task of taking the Spaceport. Let the battle begin.

Review of Deadhouse Gates by Steven Erikson

Steven Erikson's debut novel in the Malazan series, Garden of the Moon, is a tough novel to get through. A litmus test for would be readers of the series, the acid/base ratio forces readers to have the willingness to consume and process multiple plot lines and multiple pages of dramatis personae with little hand holding. The reader capacity to innumerable things churinging in RAM at one time is critical. And Erikson's erratic story-style never lets the reader keep both feet in the land of certainty. In short, the series did not stand a good chance of hitting the ground running. But enough people did pick up what Erikson was putting down, allowing Tor to move ahead with further books in the series. For those who get through Gardens of the Moon there is Deadhouse Gates (2000). Second book in the Malazan series, it's when the rubber really hits the road.

Before getting to the review, a note when reading the Malazan series: progression is not linear. Unlike George R.R. Martin, J.R.R. Tolkien, or other famous writers' fantasy series, Malazan is asynchronous. Each of the ten books must be taken individually, and not as a direct continuation of plot book to book. Certainly there are commonalities—characters, sub-plots, places, etc., but one does not feed the next. Deadhouse Gates thus does not pick up specifically where Gardens left off.

Console Corner: Review of Titan Quest

It's good sometimes to get outside your comfort zone, learn about the world, including video games—at least to some degree. (Hey, give a guy whose written a thousand review intros a little slack when he comes up with a dud...) For years I have seen internet content dedicated to isometric rpgs—dungeon crawlers where players begin with a weak hero but steadily, killing endless hordes, build them into a powerful warrior/wizard/whatever, kicking ass left and right. Having now played Titan Quest (2006) I think 'dungeon grinder' may be the better descriptor.

In Titan Quest, players take on the role of an ordinary Greek man. They literally begin the game with a club, and slowly work (aka kill) their way across a vast map, collecting better weapons, armor, talismans, etc. along the way. Killing enemies earns experience and skill points, which in turn can be used to turn the ordinary Greek man into a superhuman. And there are dozens of ways this can be done, from warrior tank to nature wizard, clever rogue to summoning master. Players progress through four regions, each of which culminates in a big boss fight that tests the player's skills to that point.

Review of Player Piano by Kurt Vonnegut

It's 2025. The Western world, and much of the non-Western world, is wholly dependent on machines, computers, and other electronics. And AI has become the #1 technological concern for the future. It's going to make humans redundant! It's going to collapse the economy by putting people out of work! Etc., etc. Turn back the clock 75 years and those concerns were directed at robots. Works like R.U.R. and War with the Newts by Karol Capek portrayed societies wherein humans become second-class citizens to robots. Tackling the topic from a broader, more corporate angle is Kurt Vonnegut's Player Piano (1952). Still relevant in 2025?

Player Piano is the story of Paul Proteus. An intelligent engineer, Paul is a key leader at Ilium Works, a production facility for electronics and robotics that automate many forms of work. Also a good employee, Paul ruffles no feathers and keeps his nose clean. At least at the beginning of the book. As things develop, Paul has increasing contact with the reeks & wrecks—the skilled men and women who have been displaced from the labor force by machines and are now at loose ends. He finds himself increasingly sympathetic to their plight, something his ambitious wife Anita hopes he will forget in pursuit of a more lucrative position at the company's Pittsburgh location.

Review of Someone to Watch over Me by Tricia Sullivan

At the pace of publishing in 2024, it's easy to not only miss good novels when they come out, but to lose sight of good novels released not so long ago. Chasing the new is a road to burnout and FOMO, and as such, it's good to sample books from throughout the history of fantastika. Published in 1997 was a little cyberpunk gem, Tricia Sullivan's Someone to Watch over Me.

Someone to Watch over Me drops the reader, on page one, into the speeding car that is the life of Adrien. And doesn't often take its foot off the gas. Experiencing a medical emergency, Adrien wants the technology in his head, out. The technology lets another person see and experience everything he does. What at first was easy money (people paying money to live vicariously through him) has become a burden, and what's more, it's causing shortness of breath, high blood pressure, and several other things. He needs help. Hailing a taxi on the streets of Zagreb, he begs the driver, a musician named Sabina, for blackmarket pharmaceuticals. And further down the rabbit hole of his own creation Adrien goes.

Console Corner: Review of The Pathless

Journey is one of my favorite video games of all time. It is not action galore, frantically mashing buttons, killin' baddies. The opposite rather, Journey is a meditative experience that “shows rather than tells” the player a quasi-zen transcendence of existence. Seeing comparisons of 2023's The Pathless to Journey, I was naturally intrigued. Zen?

Right up front, The Pathless is not Journey 2, nor does it ever intend to be. They are different games. But it's possible to see why comparisons are made. In The Pathless, players start as a robed figure only whose eyes are showing. They traverse an open world—in more ways 'open' than one—trying to locate lightstones that can be used to banish the evil brought about by a three-eyed god-man. Once three pillars are lit by the stones, an area is cleared, paving the way to a boss fight. Rinse and repeat—plus a big boss battle with the three-eyed god-man, and you... win? Play to find out. Based on this, The Pathless bears more in common with Shadow of the Colossus than Journey, but hey, I'm just a cellar-dwelling reviewer.

Console Corner: Review of Disco Elysium

STOP! If you normally come to my blog to read book reviews, do not skip this. Yes, Disco Elysium is a video game. But be aware, it's predominantly a narrative experience. The fact it is perhaps the best-written video game narrative ever should at least help you consider reading this review. (If not that, then maybe the killer title?)

Putting it lightly, the video game medium is not famed for its maturity. Of course every medium has its share of juvenile content, but video games may be the worst offender. Hand-eye coordination and onscreen interactions are what make the medium tick with aarrative almost always taking a back seat. Super Mario Bros features an Italian plumber trying to save a princess who has been kidnapped by a dinosaur protected by turtle ducks... Not quite Pulitzer material. But there are a few games out there that treat the person playing like they have an adult brain who has given thought to the layers of existence. Disco Elysium (2019) is absolutely one of them.

Review of Ludluda by Steve Beard & Jeff Noon

Gogmagog by Steve Beard and Jeff Noon was a breath of river air. I do not say 'fresh' river air. The dark mood, the edgy fantastic, the murky waters, the lurking evil (the swearing granny)—it was not a light affair. About an aging river boat captain dealing with a vegetal crisis, said swearing granny decides to guide a few ignorant tourists through the most dangerous parts of the river, in turn rekindling a rivalry with an ancient enemy. Gogmagog the first half, Ludluda (2024) is the bookend.

I'll cut to the chase. If you enjoyed Gogmagog, Ludluda will not disappoint. Same quick-pace, same offbeat imagination, same curmudgeonly Cady Meade tackling her yellow-eyed dragon. The book does spend more time on land—or at least different versions of something semi-solid underfoot. There are two excursions (more in a moment) into unexpected territory. And there is an exciting climax. But beyond this, the artistic vision and storytelling are consistent—nice, that.

Console Corner: Aiko's Choice

Shadow Tactics: Blades of the Shogun is one of the rare video games I have played through more than twice. Everybody has their gaming sweet spots, and for me this blend of stealth puzzle hits most of them. With its feudal samurai setting—cherry tees, rice fields, Japanese castles, temples, and the like—the game sings. Mimimi Games has, unfortunately since gone out of business, but before leaving the gaming scene they released a small standalone game (not technically DLC) in the setting: Aiko's Choice (2021).

Aikko's Choice features the same five characters as Blades of the Shogun, all with the same character abilities. But the game is about one-third the length: six total missions, two of which are short. What could be called a “side mission”, the story of Aiko's Choice takes place in the middle of Blades of the Shogun. A certain Lady Chiyo surprises the gang at their hideout, kidnapping Yuki and Togama in the process. Hayato, Mugen, and Aiko give chase, tracking down their friends and make sure Chiyo does not escape to tell Kage-yama of their cabal.

Culture Corner: Egypt (Hurghada & Cairo)

For the first time, my family went on vacation the week prior to Christmas. Typically a time we are preparing for the holidays, we instead went to Egypt for seven days. The goals were local culture—people, food music, etc., pyramids, beach time, and a few day dives in the Red Sea. We accomplished most of that, and got a bit more than we bargained for.

1 – The Red Sea near our hotel. The kids loved it.  I didn't complain. :)

Review of The Lost and the Damned by Guy Haley

Let's speak honestly. The Solar War, first novel in the Siege of Terra series, was essentially an extended prelude. When taken in context with the wider Horus Heresy story, it was a “necessary” kickoff to the final ten books in the series. But it was 90% perfunctory. Little of consequence or value was given the reader that could not have been summed up in a couple paragraphs. (Apologies John French for the cynicism; your effort was heroic to make something of nothing.) The Lost and the Damned (2019) by Guy Haley, second Siege of Terra novel, is when the series' rubber really hits the road.

The Lost and the Damned is Horus' opening assault on terra firma. The opening paragraph is a salvo of missiles landing on Himalaysia. Wide-angle, the book rotates through the points-of-view of primarchs on both sides, as well as the ordinary people running the palace's walls who must set aside their daily duties and take up weapons in defense. Their lives turned upside down by the attack, they are slaughtered by the millions. Overall, Haley does a nice job presenting the earth-level battles and the destruction leveled on both sides.

Article: Fantasy Fiction: The Farce of Complex Characters

I recently switched phones, and in the process switched browsers to Chrome. On mobile, this means Google advertizing. One of the first ads I saw, undoubtedly due to browsing history, was a link to Fantasy Review's “6 Urban Fantasy Series for Fans of Complex Characters”. With a couple minutes to spare, the word 'complex' had my interest, so I clicked. Turns out there are different definitions of the word.

One of the centerpieces, if not the centerpiece of literary fiction is character realism. Readers of said fiction expect emotions, thoughts, actions, dialogue, and the details of human life to cleave to reality. That is the norm of the form. It arises, naturally, that subsequent characters are 'complex'. Real people's lives are, after all, complex. Another way of putting this is: complex characters are default in literary fiction. Nobody need call them out as 'complex', or make a list of literary-minded books with 'complex characters'. That is the logic I tried to apply to Fantasy Review's article about 'complex characters' in fantasy fiction. I failed.

Review of Unseen Academicals by Terry Practhett

Whether tracked mentally or written down, I assume Terry Pratchett had a list of topics he wanted to present through the unique lens of the Disc. And he got through dozens upon dozens of these topics. Readers knew football / soccer / foot-the-ball had to be there somewhere on the list, and indeed in the thirty-seventh novel up it popped in Unseen Academicals (2009). A topic beloved by millions if not billions, one can only assume Pratchett was waiting til he had the right story, the right combination of ingredients, to do the sport justice in Discworld. Let's see what they were.

The portions plying the pot of Unseen Academicals are: ten cups of wizard, one stein of goblin, two hurlyhoos of female Unseen University kitchen staff, various dashes and splashes of Ankh-Morpork streetlife, the unpeeled onion of Veterinari, oh, and one, large orange librarian (with banana). The spice setting the stew afire is the discovery of a certain pornographic vase at Unseen University featuring ancient men at play in foot-the-ball. A set of gentlemanly rules discovered inside the vase, Veternari makes the case that foot-the-ball needs to be converted from a pie-eating, tooth-knocking, rough-housing affair on Ankh-Morpork's streets to the next level of respectability; it needs proper goals and a field judge. He asks the wizards to field a new team and stage an exhibition match. Away we go!

Good vs Great: Star Wars Unlimited vs Star Wars Destiny

In our polarizing times, it's easy to have an extreme opinion. Gush, gush, gush, rant, rant, rant. With the recent release of Star Wars Unlimited, there is a lot of gushing happening. And rightfully so; it's a tightly designed game whose industry pedigree is evident. Part of that pedigree is Star Wars Destiny, a game which Unlimited borrows a huge amount of DNA from. As such, it seemed a fun idea to approach the release with a view more subtle: the difference between a good expandable card game and a great one. This article is going to assume the reader has played both games, or is at least familiar with expandable card games in general.

We will cover:

• Gaining Resources

• Spending Resources

• Battlefield

• Initiative

• Color Pie

• Art

• The (Damned) Dice

• Theme

• Doing Damage

• Deck Construction & Card Draw

• Mulligan Rule

• Exciting Endings (or Lack Thereof)

• Conclusion

Resource systems are the foundation on which expandable card games are built, meaning there is no better place to start than how to earn the in-game money necessary to get those wonderful, fun, beautiful cards on the table.

Review of Playground by Richard Powers

I've quoted the poet Alicia Ostriker on this blog before, and it's such a powerful quote that I'm going to break it out again here: “the true poet is necessarily the partisan of energy, rebellion, and desire, and is opposed to passivity, obedience, and the authority of reasons, laws and institutions.” Writers of fiction are not poets; clear. But the concept can still apply to novels. If you're not trying to find an edge in your stories, it's difficult for them to cut. Let's check the energy/rebellion/desire meter on Richard Power's 2024 Playground.

While dipping in and out of the lives of several characters, Playground mainly revolves around three. “Jacqueline Cousteau”, actually Evelyne Beaulieu, is a woman who has seen the spectrum of underwater research in the course of her long life. She was a tester of early 20th century diving apparatuses, and has spent countless thousands of hours performing biomarine research since. At a loose end in old age, she lives on a remote Polynesian island called Makatea wondering what to do with her life. Todd Keane is a young man with a plan at the birth pangs of the internet. From an upper-middle class family, he goes to university to study IT and there puts his plan of building a social networking platform into action. Becoming a billionaire for it, he must eventually decide what to do with his earnings, something a certain Polynesian island may play a role in. And lastly is Rafi Young. Despite their racial and socio-economic differences, Rafi becomes best friends with Todd at university. The two eventually go their separate ways, but not before they must confront the results of their youthful brainstorming on the future of the internet.

Speculiction's Awards - Best Fiction Published in 2024

As is tradition here in the bustling offices of Speculiction, we come together at year's end to look back at the books published in the year, summarize what was read, and choose the best—if possible. (For best of books read in 2024, regardless of publishing year, see here.)

2024 was an average reading year. I can't say great, or even good. Partially this is my own fault. For whatever reason, genre/mainstream books held a larger than normal proportion of consumption, and of those books I read outside the mainstream, few chimed in bells or lifted angelic voices to the heavens for consideration as 'best of the year'. But a book did eventually pop up that is worthy.

Best Reads of 2024

Like the explosion of fireworks at midnight, Speculiction dons its tweed sweater and monocle every new year to reflect on the reading year past. I ask the question: What stuck out? What distinguished itself among the ~50 books I read? And as I get older: What do I remember?

Regardless year published, personal rating, number of NY Times bestselling-author quotes on the cover—here are the dozen or so books that stuck out this year. (For books published only in 2024, see here.)