Eric Stone
A huge thank you to Tachyon for an advance copy of Meg Elison's Foundling Fathers!
I found this book while digging through spec-fic publishers and the premise just looked like too much fun to pass up. Finding out the author, Meg Elison, is from the Berkshires (right in my backyard) pretty much sealed the deal. But then I checked out the press kit and author’s video - which got an actual lol - and I was officially excited.
The book delivers in a big way. The writing is super witty, and I adored the contrast between the 18th-century period English and the bluntness of modern speech. “What is this before me?” to “John Hancock had fucking had it" is peak comedic timing for me. I found myself laughing out loud at the start of nearly every chapter.
By the middle of the book, I was already picturing this on-screen. There are some abrupt transitions between characters and timelines, but if you view it through a cinematic lens - thinking of them as hard cuts, really - the pacing makes a lot of sense, especially when all four boys are speaking concurrently.
My only real gripe is that I wanted more. The “explosive” events leading to the boys' escape felt a bit rushed, and I think there was a lot of tension there that could have been fleshed out further. I also wished Jefferson had faced some actual consequences for his inferred sexual assaults, but the book stays true to the reality that, in his life, he never really did. All that said, of course I want more. It’s a phenomenally-written novella, and wanting more of a world is a pretty good sign of a successful story.
I really like when an absurd concept is taken seriously. We get that here. Elison gets the temperaments of these guys right - they are flawed people in a flawed system overseen by flawed men. The ending, where they finally meet the person who "made" them, is handled perfectly. I usually hate using the word "masterful," but for that specific scene, I can't think of a better way to describe it. Elison captures the boy’s profound disappointment wonderfully - a sentiment she echoes in her afterword.
It’s a huge “Mission: Accomplished” for Meg Elison and Foundling Fathers. Like an actual “Mission: Accomplished,” not a USS Abraham Lincoln “Mission: Accomplished.” We’re lucky to be along for the ride.
Keep an eye out for this one from Tachyon in June.
A huge thank you to Tachyon for an advance copy of Meg Elison's Foundling Fathers!
I found this book while digging through spec-fic publishers and the premise just looked like too much fun to pass up. Finding out the author, Meg Elison, is from the Berkshires (right in my backyard) pretty much sealed the deal. But then I checked out the press kit and author’s video - which got an actual lol - and I was officially excited.
The book delivers in a big way. The writing is super witty, and I adored the contrast between the 18th-century period English and the bluntness of modern speech. “What is this before me?” to “John Hancock had fucking had it" is peak comedic timing for me. I found myself laughing out loud at the start of nearly every chapter.
By the middle of the book, I was already picturing this on-screen. There are some abrupt transitions between characters and timelines, but if you view it through a cinematic lens - thinking of them as hard cuts, really - the pacing makes a lot of sense, especially when all four boys are speaking concurrently.
My only real gripe is that I wanted more. The “explosive” events leading to the boys' escape felt a bit rushed, and I think there was a lot of tension there that could have been fleshed out further. I also wished Jefferson had faced some actual consequences for his inferred sexual assaults, but the book stays true to the reality that, in his life, he never really did. All that said, of course I want more. It’s a phenomenally-written novella, and wanting more of a world is a pretty good sign of a successful story.
I really like when an absurd concept is taken seriously. We get that here. Elison gets the temperaments of these guys right - they are flawed people in a flawed system overseen by flawed men. The ending, where they finally meet the person who "made" them, is handled perfectly. I usually hate using the word "masterful," but for that specific scene, I can't think of a better way to describe it. Elison captures the boy’s profound disappointment wonderfully - a sentiment she echoes in her afterword.
It’s a huge “Mission: Accomplished” for Meg Elison and Foundling Fathers. Like an actual “Mission: Accomplished,” not a USS Abraham Lincoln “Mission: Accomplished.” We’re lucky to be along for the ride.
Keep an eye out for this one from Tachyon in June.
I just finished revisiting the Wool omnibus after finding a physical copy at a library sale. It’s been years since I first read it, and I'm pleased - though not surprised - that it holds up well. Even with the new show on Apple TV, there is something about the way Hugh Howey builds this world on the page that a screen just can’t capture.
The whole story takes place in a giant underground silo - and I love a closed system. You’ve got 144 floors and no elevator. My favorite thing about this book is that the setting is the antagonist. Howey writes in a such a way that you can feel the weight of the dirt and institutional oppression.
The story focuses on my favorite kind of protagonist - regular person in an irregular situation. She’s a mechanic. She treats her problems as things that need to be fixed, and seeing her realize the silo is her prison remains satisfying.
If you’re into high-stakes stories like Seveneves or The Long Walk, where the rules of the world are rigid and breaking them has actual consequences, Wool is for you. The tension and excitement far outweigh what you'd think possible in a book about a hole in the ground.
Definitely worth the shelf space.
I just finished revisiting the Wool omnibus after finding a physical copy at a library sale. It’s been years since I first read it, and I'm pleased - though not surprised - that it holds up well. Even with the new show on Apple TV, there is something about the way Hugh Howey builds this world on the page that a screen just can’t capture.
The whole story takes place in a giant underground silo - and I love a closed system. You’ve got 144 floors and no elevator. My favorite thing about this book is that the setting is the antagonist. Howey writes in a such a way that you can feel the weight of the dirt and institutional oppression.
The story focuses on my favorite kind of protagonist - regular person in an irregular situation. She’s a mechanic. She treats her problems as things that need to be fixed, and seeing her realize the silo is her prison remains satisfying.
If you’re into high-stakes stories like Seveneves or The Long Walk, where the rules of the world are rigid and breaking them has actual consequences, Wool is for you. The tension and excitement far outweigh what you'd think possible in a book about a hole in the ground.
Definitely worth the shelf space.
The undisputed template for the end of the world.
I have read as many "post-societal collapse" books as I can get my hands on, and this remains the gold standard. If every book in this genre followed King’s lead re pacing, character development, and emotional resonance..? Well they can't, because this is the cream of the crop.
What sets it apart:
- The Pacing of the End: I love how King conveys the speed of the virus. He nails just how quickly things go to shit. Too many novels act like lawlessness would take months to prevail; King knows it would be days. He doesn’t give you time to breathe.
- The Real Life Stakes: The conclusion carries messages that feel incredibly grounded: "if you’re going to be a dick, you’re never safe" and "intentions are only 50% of what matters." It’s that ability to connect a supernatural, catastrophic tale to the real-world consequences of our actions that makes this so immersive.
- The Grounding: It allows the reader to forget this is just a story because the characters feel like people you actually know.
Final Note: If you’re starting a Stephen King journey, read this early. You’ll find "The Dark Man" around every corner from this point forward. It’s essential reading for anyone who wants to see how the genre is supposed to be done.
The undisputed template for the end of the world.
I have read as many "post-societal collapse" books as I can get my hands on, and this remains the gold standard. If every book in this genre followed King’s lead re pacing, character development, and emotional resonance..? Well they can't, because this is the cream of the crop.
What sets it apart:
- The Pacing of the End: I love how King conveys the speed of the virus. He nails just how quickly things go to shit. Too many novels act like lawlessness would take months to prevail; King knows it would be days. He doesn’t give you time to breathe.
- The Real Life Stakes: The conclusion carries messages that feel incredibly grounded: "if you’re going to be a dick, you’re never safe" and "intentions are only 50% of what matters." It’s that ability to connect a supernatural, catastrophic tale to the real-world consequences of our actions that makes this so immersive.
- The Grounding: It allows the reader to forget this is just a story because the characters feel like people you actually know.
Final Note: If you’re starting a Stephen King journey, read this early. You’ll find "The Dark Man" around every corner from this point forward. It’s essential reading for anyone who wants to see how the genre is supposed to be done.
A masterclass in the Believable Impossible.
Unwind is one of the very few series I have reread independently of a new release. While it enjoys a high rating online, I still feel it’s criminally underrated for the sheer technical skill Neal Shusterman brings to the table.
Why this is a 5-star entry:
- The No-Slog First Entry: I never have to tell people, “Just get through the first book, it gets better.” Shusterman has a rare knack for the solid first entry (similar to Scythe). The world-building is immediate, immersive, and doesn't require the reader to do homework to understand the stakes.
- Believable Characters: These kids feel like kids. They aren't chosen ones with superpowers; they are terrified teenagers facing an impossible future in a way that feels grounded and realistic.
- The Speculative Extreme: There is nothing better than a book that takes a sliver of our current societal tensions, pushes it to an extreme, and then treats that premise with deathly seriousness. The post-civil war societal change depicted here is a logical progression of real-life conflict.
If you want speculative fiction that respects your intelligence and maintains its narrative integrity through the entire series, this is the one I constantly recommend.
A masterclass in the Believable Impossible.
Unwind is one of the very few series I have reread independently of a new release. While it enjoys a high rating online, I still feel it’s criminally underrated for the sheer technical skill Neal Shusterman brings to the table.
Why this is a 5-star entry:
- The No-Slog First Entry: I never have to tell people, “Just get through the first book, it gets better.” Shusterman has a rare knack for the solid first entry (similar to Scythe). The world-building is immediate, immersive, and doesn't require the reader to do homework to understand the stakes.
- Believable Characters: These kids feel like kids. They aren't chosen ones with superpowers; they are terrified teenagers facing an impossible future in a way that feels grounded and realistic.
- The Speculative Extreme: There is nothing better than a book that takes a sliver of our current societal tensions, pushes it to an extreme, and then treats that premise with deathly seriousness. The post-civil war societal change depicted here is a logical progression of real-life conflict.
If you want speculative fiction that respects your intelligence and maintains its narrative integrity through the entire series, this is the one I constantly recommend.
This one was tricky for me. On one hand, it’s a great story with some wonderfully complex characters. I really liked Jamie, his family, and the whole cast of people in his orbit - especially during the "youth" chapters. King is at his best when he’s writing that specific kind of coming-of-age nostalgia, and I was fully on board for the first two-thirds of the book.
The issue for me was the payoff. People always cite Revival as having one of his darkest endings, and while it is definitely bleak, it didn't quite land for me. The notion that the afterlife just universally sucks didn't feel as heavy or as "bad" as a small community being forced to hand a child over to the devil, or a figure like the Dark Man always looming.
The Verdict: I didn't feel the sting of the ending as much as I wanted to, but the journey getting there was solid enough that I’ll probably try rereading it in a few years to see if it sits any better with me. For now, it’s a good book that just missed that final gut-punch.
This one was tricky for me. On one hand, it’s a great story with some wonderfully complex characters. I really liked Jamie, his family, and the whole cast of people in his orbit - especially during the "youth" chapters. King is at his best when he’s writing that specific kind of coming-of-age nostalgia, and I was fully on board for the first two-thirds of the book.
The issue for me was the payoff. People always cite Revival as having one of his darkest endings, and while it is definitely bleak, it didn't quite land for me. The notion that the afterlife just universally sucks didn't feel as heavy or as "bad" as a small community being forced to hand a child over to the devil, or a figure like the Dark Man always looming.
The Verdict: I didn't feel the sting of the ending as much as I wanted to, but the journey getting there was solid enough that I’ll probably try rereading it in a few years to see if it sits any better with me. For now, it’s a good book that just missed that final gut-punch.
Brilliant "People's History" concept, but the character work is missing.
In Touch with Laika takes a fascinating Zinn-esque approach to sci-fi, using a transmission from the far future to give a voice to those history has silenced - starting with the Soviet space dog, Laika. As a fan of narrative history that highlights the disadvantaged, I was fully onboard with the premise. However, the execution feels more like a proof-of-concept than a fully realized story.
The Critique:
- The Zinn Angle: The concept of telling the untold stories of figures like Laika (and eventually Tesla and Marcus Aurelius in future installments) is incredibly compelling. There is a wonderful opportunity here for a deep emotional arc about being a conduit for the forgotten.
- Surface-level Protagonist: At 86 pages, we simply don't get enough of Ethan. We’re told he’s an emotional wreck, but because we don't see his daily life or his motivations, his mental breakdown feels unearned. He feels like a passenger in his own story rather than an active participant.
- The Social Media Loop: The final third of the book is heavily focused on the repetitiveness of internet skepticism. In a book this short, that space would have been better served deepening our connection to Ethan or the futuristic entity.
- The Format: Spreading this story across three separate novellas released over the course of six months is a big ask for the reader. Without a stronger emotional hook in Part 1, it's hard to feel the urgency to wait until June for the conclusion.
The Verdict: The writing is solid and the audiobook narrator was an excellent choice, but the story lacks the depth needed to make the reader feel the weight of Ethan's journey. I love what this book is trying to be - a sci-fi lens on the marginalized - but Part 1 doesn't quite bridge the gap between a great idea and a great story.
Brilliant "People's History" concept, but the character work is missing.
In Touch with Laika takes a fascinating Zinn-esque approach to sci-fi, using a transmission from the far future to give a voice to those history has silenced - starting with the Soviet space dog, Laika. As a fan of narrative history that highlights the disadvantaged, I was fully onboard with the premise. However, the execution feels more like a proof-of-concept than a fully realized story.
The Critique:
- The Zinn Angle: The concept of telling the untold stories of figures like Laika (and eventually Tesla and Marcus Aurelius in future installments) is incredibly compelling. There is a wonderful opportunity here for a deep emotional arc about being a conduit for the forgotten.
- Surface-level Protagonist: At 86 pages, we simply don't get enough of Ethan. We’re told he’s an emotional wreck, but because we don't see his daily life or his motivations, his mental breakdown feels unearned. He feels like a passenger in his own story rather than an active participant.
- The Social Media Loop: The final third of the book is heavily focused on the repetitiveness of internet skepticism. In a book this short, that space would have been better served deepening our connection to Ethan or the futuristic entity.
- The Format: Spreading this story across three separate novellas released over the course of six months is a big ask for the reader. Without a stronger emotional hook in Part 1, it's hard to feel the urgency to wait until June for the conclusion.
The Verdict: The writing is solid and the audiobook narrator was an excellent choice, but the story lacks the depth needed to make the reader feel the weight of Ethan's journey. I love what this book is trying to be - a sci-fi lens on the marginalized - but Part 1 doesn't quite bridge the gap between a great idea and a great story.