When you’re a bureaucrat, the world ending is probably the worst thing that can happen. Though I guess arguably it’s pretty crap for everyone, but Jane seems to be having a bad time when her racist fantasy world explodes and then she has to go on a multidimensional adventure about it. Jane Is the End is a deeply weird book that is hard to explain, and explaining it in any way meaningful way would spoil it, but in addition to being wacky and unpredictable, it’s also sweet. It’s a story about love and loss, and a story about identity and trauma, and a story about endings and beginnings and how those are often the same. It has moments where I’m not sure about the pacing and some of the places and people Jane visits didn’t engage me as much as others, but on the whole this book about flawed people with flawed worldviews who somehow have to decide what’s best for the universe when they can’t even decide what’s best for themselves is really hard to put down. You’ll always want to know what happens next with this one, and something will always be about to happen. This one is definitely for anyone who’s looking for something unpredictable and fast-paced, and anyone who wants something that’s just incredibly weird.

Weirdly wonderful and wonderfully weird. Massoni has a deep well of creativity. This was such a cool mashup of ideas. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her writing for Pixar or another Hollywood entity in the future.

Jane is the End gave me a book hangover, which is always a signal to me that the author is doing something special that’s worth remarking upon. There are some rough edges, but it’s ultimately a powerful story in ways you’re unlikely to expect. I found myself desperate to make sure the cast made it to the end (or End!), and some of Massoni’s more philosophical ruminations had me not only reading what was on page, but engaging with it emotionally and intellectually.

Well worth a read if you’re looking for something a little gonzo in the indiesphere!

“Selfishness was a foreign country, and yet I longed to travel there. To set up a home and make it ordinary.”

Although I’d finished Tim Carter’s Jester in time for its semi-finalist announcement, I didn’t quite have time to get a review out, so I’m providing what would have been my full review here instead. It’s a book that absolutely deserves a full write-up, and that also deserves a wide readership (inasmuch as any work of fiction can claim to deserve an audience). A witty, moving pageturner of a comedic fantasy, Jester proves that the skill on display in Carter’s SFINCS-winning novella, Majordomo, was absolutely no fluke. Post-SFINCS, Carter generously offered me an ARC of Jester, but I was unable to read it in time for its release. I was so pleased to see it in our SPFBO batch so that I’d have the excuse I needed to set time aside for it.

Initially, I was a little worried in Jester‘s opening chapters that its narration would be too similar to the protagonist’s voice in Majordomo. However, as Jester continues, the voice of Shelly, Jester‘s goblin MC, distinguishes itself from Majordomo‘s acerbic kobold, Jack. Shelly is at the bottom of the social barrel in the fantasy kingdom of Halfsock. A latrine-slave, Shelly’s lucky if Halfsock’s self-absorbed upper-crust ignores him rather than giving him a beating. Despite this, he remains a kind (if often self-effacing) person, who ultimately wants the best for those around him. Unfortunately, the safety and well-being of everyone Shelly knows are at the mercy of Halfsock’s incompetent, conniving government–a viper’s nest of princes, priests, and other purpled egotists. When the malevolent Skeleton Queen turns her necromantic sights on Halfsock and the rival kingdoms who surround her, Halfsock’s squabbling inner circle is clearly unprepared. Unlike most of those who sneer at him, however, Shelly is intelligent and he has a plan. Gradually, and with the support of a prince’s consort, Shelly claws his way to power, attempting to puppeteer Halfsock’s royals in order to save their pampered behinds.

What really stands out about Jester is how cohesive it is. My initial (and ultimately unfounded) concerns about voice aside, I was immediately certain I was in safe hands and it was easy to lose myself in Jester‘s pages. It’s so clearly a story crafted with intent that I never had to worry whether Carter would pull everything off by the book’s conclusion (though there is a subplot involving one of my favourite characters that’s left somewhat open–I assume for a follow-up novel). What starts out as a breezy, enjoyable read quickly deepens as Shelly’s interpersonal relationships, along with his entanglement in Halfsock’s politics, grow messier and more fraught. Shelly’s friendship with the consort, who herself is marginalized for who she is and denied opportunities that people less worthy than her take for granted, is exciting to watch. As a marginalized person who’s felt the brush of that glass ceiling more than once, the emotional journey Shelly and his supporting cast take, and his experience of a growing self-confidence and self-assurance was very personally resonant and meaningful. There are twists and turns here, not necessarily in the sense of grand reveals, but in terms of how Shelly’s perspective on those around him–and of himself–shift over the course of the book. The progression of character has a consistent realism to it, but is never dull, lending the fairly standard fantasy setting a texture and groundedness that it might otherwise lack. The world in Jester is clearly thought-out, yet depends a lot on familiar genre set-pieces in much the same way that Majordomo relies on audience familiarity with generic, Dungeons and Dragons-style universes. In a weaker writer’s hands, this might be to its detriment, but here it instead gives Carter the opportunity to focus on meaningful character work, interpersonal dynamics, and larger thematic concerns. One could call Jester a story of found family–and it is–but there’s something slightly reductive about that framing that doesn’t fully capture the strength of how character relationships unfold throughout.

Along those lines, the supporting cast is particularly strong in this one (though Shelly himself is no slouch). I came to love and/or be fascinated by virtually each and every character. Favourites include the aforementioned consort, but also a mysterious wizard with secrets of his own, an inquisitor called in to investigate a murder, and the sickly ruler of a rival kingdom. In very little page time, Carter manages to imbue his cast with more life than you’ll find in many books twice Jester‘s length. It’s also charmingly funny and relentlessly nail-biting.

I’ve previously compared Carter’s work to K. J. Parker’s Sixteen Ways to Defend a Walled City, and that comparison feels even more apt for Jester than it did for Majordomo. I’d also recommend it to fans of Nicholas Eames, who is similarly skilled at balancing laughs with heartbreak. I have no reservations recommending Jester to readers of all stripes, though most especially fans of comedic fantasy. As with some of my other favourite SPFBO reads, Jester is multivalent in that it’s not simply one thing (funny, tense, a mystery, a character study), but instead deftly combines each of these in a way that enriches the overall experience of the book. From battle scenes to bawdy toilet humour, Jester knocks it out of the park.

I don’t really have any notes on this one because I actually felt like I ought to be taking notes on it. I loved Shelly. I feel like there are a lot of dark and cynical books out there and it was nice to read about a character whose main goal was to be a good person… er, goblin

If there’s one thing that’s certain, it’s that you can’t trust racists to be smart enough to save their own lives, let alone yours. So when Shelly realizes that things in Halfsock are about to go tits-up and the evil Skeleton Queen is definitely going to come and eat them all because of it, he figures he may as well do something about it. Jester is about what happens when the people everyone underestimates finally start working together, and of course the answer is ‘succeed,’ generally speaking. It’s really just very satisfying to read this book and watch Shelly outsmart all the people around him, and that’s mostly because it always feels earned. He’s not just effortlessly winning every encounter and often things go badly for him even when he does get what he wants, but his tenacity and determination and absolute willingness to do whatever he can to save himself and his friends is so charming. The narrative voice is so funny and the world is the exact right blend of serious worldbuilding and humour that I couldn’t help but be drawn into it instantly. This is a book that’s as funny as it is smart as it is heartfelt, and anyone who wants the scale of their fantasy novels to be just a little bit smaller is sure to love it.

A good pick during pride month. I always appreciate an unexpected multi-pov starting to weave together.
And though the tragic/unfortunate backstories were intriguing, I felt like some beats were missing and I couldn’t get fully hooked. That being said, I see Kyrstin’s creative wheels turning passionately and I hope they continue to cultivate it.

In a nation under the rule of an authoritarian dictatorship that rules through bloody force and lies, some dare to rebel. In Ice We Steel gives us a book full of complexities where the bad guys are really bad and the good guys are only better because we agree with their goals. I particularly enjoyed that element of the book; the rebel leaders really don’t seem like good people and the more you see of them, the more they don’t seem trustworthy either. Our main characters, Veyre and Ax, both have conflicted feelings and loyalties towards the Regime they live under, and both chafe at it in different ways–different ways which set them at odds with each other. They both have a lot going on but you can always see how their actions are taking part in a grander plot, which for me is critical in multi-POV writing. Though there were elements of the pacing that I wasn’t the most excited by and I wish we’d spent more time one some elements and less time on others, this was a really exciting read that promises exciting things in future installments, and is the kind of resistance-focused story that is well needed at this particular moment. Anyone who wants to see scrappy characters fighting the power in every way they can will really enjoy this one a lot!

In Ice We Steel is in many ways a classic fantasy, combining magic and rebellion in a politically epic setting and following multiple POVs. Yet where it shines most is in the inner conflicts of its characters as they wrestle with their own ideologies and their sense of where each of them belongs in a grand scheme that’s much larger than any one person. I mentioned it in my longer review, but Veyre in particular stood out to me as someone with a great degree of internal conflict over her support of the corrupt regime she works for and that has ground her friends into the grave.

There are some places where the plot slows or loops around in ways that feel unnecessary, but there’s also a lot here that works.

With an opening that really sunk its teeth in with some hard-hitting plot elements, I’m excited to see how future volumes weave all the pieces together. It’s easy to see from Ice alone that in terms of her talent, Kyrstin is just getting started and she’s an author worth watching.

What do you do when you get threatened with erasure, then have to fight a group of djinn, go to the Egyptian afterlife, deal with your psycho sister, your possibly immortal grandmother, and a whole host of other angels, gods, evil Pomeranians, and demons? No really, what do you do? Trying to describe A Djinnfernal Conspiracy makes you sound like a crazy person. It’s a madcap, zany adventure following a hapless guy who just keeps making one discovery about the nature of reality after another, and isn’t really that into it but doesn’t really have a say in the matter. The narrative voice in this is super funny, and the thing I appreciate most about it is how the far-future world feels really real despite us only getting little bits and pieces of it. I could read twenty books set in this world easily. It’s also clear to me that the worldbuilding in this book was entirely oriented around being funny, which is something that I really appreciate. It feels like every detail was thought out for maximum craziness, but it never feels constructed. There are a few places where that means it started to feel a bit less focused than it could have been, and a few places where the nonstop energetic humour doesn’t land, but with such a high volume of comedy that’s not a serious problem in my opinion. This one is going to be beloved by fans of the absurd and frenetic, and by those who want a take on mythology in a modern world that’s actually original and fresh.

The writing in this book was good, I guess I just felt like the beginning was trying too hard to be Douglas Adams. Once we got to the Duat and into Egyptian mythology, I liked it a lot more. I did feel like Zander should have been more involved in the climax, not off screen for it.

Singh is a snappy, polished writer, with every sentence hitting with the staccato of a machine gun. That the story and prose never let up is both a strength and a weakness here–it’s very technically impressive, creating a consistent tone and character voice, and yet it also occasionally shuts down the opportunity for deeper, more reflective character moments.

Nonetheless, I had a fantastic time with A Djinnfernal Conspiracy, which is a smart, funny, and breezy future-fantasy that reminded me a lot of my favourite comedic fantasies growing up.  This was one of my top SPFBO reads and it’s well worth checking out if you like large, zany, and memorable casts, hapless protagonists that are a bit too relatable for comfort, and of course Egyptian mythology.

This isn’t Ashley Capes first wordy rodeo and it shows.
When the MMC asks the queen for one night in her bed (after he saves the day), my romantasy hopes were set up. But this isn’t a love story and it felt like a missed opportunity.

Honestly, because the MMC’s personality is more dry/serious, I wish this had multiple POV’s, to help with the tension.

When the only guy who can save a city is also the guy who has the power and motivation to destroy that city, you know you’re in a bad situation. Knee-Deep in Cinders sets up such high-stakes tension right away and doesn’t let up. Vilas’s people were destroyed by the Onathians who wanted their powers, and now after keeping him prisoner for decades they need his help, despite the fact that he plans to kill them all as soon as possible. Full of characters with interesting and complex motivations, and just as full of really interesting history, the thing this book does that I really like is embed its history in the present actions of all the characters. There are no infodumps here, you learn everything through the present action and that’s really well done. It does sometimes mean that information that seems important is held back for longer than it probably needed to be, but everything in the story happens at a breakneck pace so it’s hard to notice that. There’s always something happening in this book and though it’s short and has a fairly narrow scope, you do get the impression of a wide world, full of more that is not populated by traditional fantasy archetypes. This one is definitely for fans of pulp fantasy who want to see more social consciousness in their fiction, especially if they like unique and weird magical powers!

Knee-Deep in Cinders tackles some challenging and emotionally compelling subject matter without sacrificing the fun worldbuilding and fantastical elements of the pulps.

As the last remaining member of a species whose people were subjugated and killed in a brutal genocide, Vilas is an easy character to root for despite the psychological ravages of his lengthy imprisonment.

Although there were some uncharacteristic and derailing info-dumps toward the climax of the book, I was absolutely fascinated by the world Capes paints in Knee-Deep and am eager to read more. This is another one that, like Ice, should appeal to classic fantasy fans who’re looking for something meatier.

This one reminded me a lot of the YA writing of the 80’s before YA existed — Tamora Pierce, Robin McKinley, etc. It was much quieter than some of our top contenders, which made it hard to compare for me–they were like apples and oranges, a bit–but there were a few things that didn’t quite hit for me. I had a hard time figuring out Tal’s age because she seemed more like a young teen to me and then I was startled to find out she was turning 18. Also the ending felt a little off to me–I didn’t feel like the deaths got the attention they deserved, It was weird bringing an entirely new character in at the end.

When an all powerful godlike entity that is responsible for saving the universe demands that you serve him for a year after you shoot his cat, it’s not like you can say no. And when she’s taken to the Whisperer’s house, Talia isn’t as upset by it as she thought she’d be, and learns a lot more than she expected to. The Whisperer in White is a book that feels really understated for a long time. For all that it’s a book about an entity whose job is to fix rents in reality that threaten the fabric of the universe, it’s a very quiet book for the most part and it focuses not on the grand stakes (though those are present) but on the personal ones. It’s one part exploration of duty and its weight, and one part consideration of why immortality is terrible, and one part rumination on the centrality of family in human decision making. It’s a really beautiful book and my favourite thing about it is how, even as the world literally becomes imperiled, it never stops being about the personal family drama at its core, and how sometimes we try to love each other and we end up hurting each other in so doing. The worldbuilding and characterization are so adept in this as well, they’re both subtle but clear and they provide a lot of depth to what’s happening. This one definitely has an audience in anyone who’s tired of books where the fate of the world hangs in the balance, or anyone who wants a thoughtful, quiet trip into a fantasy world populated by tired people trying their best.

The Whisperer in White was such a powerful read for me. There’s a gentleness to some of its opening chapters that still manages somehow to create and maintain an effective tension with regard to the book’s central mysteries. Yet alongside that gentleness and mystery is a heartrending series of plot developments that’s bookended by more action-packed scenes. It’s the kind of tonal ebb and flow that I always look for in a work and that, when done right, really provides a balanced story that you can’t help but be pulled in by.

Liu engages with a lot of classic fantasy elements here without ever feeling stale.

Considered me intrigued with Y. R. Liu’s overall talent.

My favorite part in this is we find a relative to Princess Doughnut dating back to the preindustrial days.

Coming-of-age fantasy has a high bar, in general. And though this had a solid foundation and cool plot beats – I wanted more internal dialogue because it would have helped with the tension.

That being said, this novella’s pages turned faster than I expected and I will be curious Liu’s catalog evolves.

The thing about living in a socialist utopia is that the evil empires that surround you don’t appreciate that overly. The Redstone Rescue is about an Investigator who starts out investigating a series of disappearances in the small border town of Redstone, which rapidly spirals into something way more complicated. In many ways, this book has it all: mystery, action, twists and turns, heists, a cool world, romance, humour. You get to learn about the characters and their world over time, through the watchful eyes of Khat, who has little patience for pretention or planning, and likes to get right to the point. She’s an affable, charming protagonist who is surrounded by equally charming characters, both heroic and villainous, and though there are bad guys in this book, many of them are just people like her, doing what they think is best. I loved the characters and setting in this, which all felt super real and present as I read. I did unfortunately find the book pretty confusing; it kind of changes from being a mystery to being a military fantasy to being a heist to being a romance, and I don’t find those transitions always blend super well, and they didn’t always do favours for the tension in the book, in my opinion. Anyone who likes well crafted worldbuilding, mysteries and heists, or a serious look at what a utopian fantasy kingdom might look like will really enjoy this one!

I liked this one quite a bit and wish I could have ranked it higher. But it felt like it needed to be 2 books and I wasn’t sure why Farid was introduced as a main character if he was just going to be shuffled out of the way for most of the book and then allowed to pop back in at the end. But I really liked Khat, the world, and I felt like the setting was outstanding–I kept seeing it as a fantasy Arizona .

I loved the depth of worldbuilding on display in Redstone Rescue–the subtle kind that’s not just told to the reader, but that oozes from character interactions and descriptions of place. There were also so many lines, comedic and serious, that really wowed me, and the first few chapters drew me into the mystery plot right away.

Like my fellow judges, I found the second half of the book slightly shakier, as the main mystery plot is dispensed with in favour of new characters, environments, and more of a heist plot, but it’s clear throughout that Moxon is a skilled storyteller, and Redstone has a lot to offer.