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LM Sagas's Cascade Failure is a debut sf novel about found family on a scrappy spaceship working against the evils of capitalism. You love to see it. I don't know why this trope is such catnip for me, but I could really read so much of this.

It's full of snappy dialogue, fun relationships, and action-filled set pieces. Honestly, so much of the book felt visual that I could easily imagine a comic or film adaptation. The relationships between the characters, especially Jal and Saint, had a lot of depth.

I wish there was a little bit more heft to the worldbuilding. It's a space corporations vs unions situation (although it gets at some good nuance about how these can work too closely together), with a guild that sits sort of outside that. I didn't really get much sense of what guild hierarchy Captain Eoan existed in, as it seemed like they and the crew largely went off and did whatever they pleased.

Overall, my take is that this was fun but not amazing, and I'd read more by this author or in this universe for sure.

This book was fantastic. The setup is that shapeshifting, people-eating, amorphous blob Shesheshen is rescued by overly kind Homily, believing Shesheshen to be a person. Ironically, Homily comes from a monstrously toxic family of wyrm hunters, who are all out to kill Shesheshen specifically, while not realizing that Shesheshen is said monster. (Hijinks ensue.)

It's a story that deals with passing and masking--Shesheshen works really hard at trying to be a person, physically and socially assembled from what she can scavenge. She's got a wry non-human perspective that's especially biology-focused, like how to form legs and have a humanish shape, the tricky mechanics of eating with your mouth closed, and the overwhelmingness of smells and noises.

This book also deals with physically and emotionally abusive family, and how hard it is to struggle through trauma, no matter how much you are being hurt. Also, as you might expect, this book is also about family and royalty being the true monsters.

Normally, I am not keen on stories where a good bit of relationship tension comes from an intentional deception leading up to an eventual awkward reveal. Even if you ignore the self-protective reasons here, I think the setup in this book works partially for comedy reasons, as Shesheshen considers devouring Homily at the outset, but as she gets more entangled in Homily's family life, it also works as a deception told for protective reasons. It narratively worked for me enough to not be feeling "just tell her already!" throughout the book. The fact that there are a number of worse deceptions elsewhere also makes this feel more minor than you'd imagine it could be.

I devoured (pun not intended) the whole book in one day. Strong recommend from me.

The Imposition of Unnecessary Obstacles is the second book in the Mossa & Pleiti series, set on in a future steampunk Jupiter.

It may just be because I have read some great mysteries this year (hi, Tainted Cup!) and so I'm coming in with a high bar, but the mystery of this book feels quite thin. Compared to the last book, this mystery is more telegraphed for the reader to be able to solve it themselves; however, the mystery unspools slowly with little tension, Pleiti solves too many puzzles off page, and the final confrontation is underwhelming.

I think this sounds more negative than I feel about this book. I thought it was fun, I continued to really dig the worldbuilding and the setting, and it was cozy to get back into it; I think my expectations were high and the parts I enjoyed weren't quite enough to satisfy this time around.

I suggested this for #SFFBookClub, and so I gave this a reread so I could enjoy it again. I love the way this novel takes Hollywood and its obsession with stars and all of its racism and homophobia, and mixes it with fey magical realism. Overall, it's definitely a book whose strengths are in its setting and its writing, rather than in a tight plot, but I still love the characters.

In particular, probably my favorite part of this book are the constant turns of phrase that bring in fey elements at unexpected times. You're just reading along and then you get hit with a line like "The cameras were better now, I told myself. They had tamed them down, fed them better." Silent movies steal people's voices. Film stars are (ambiguously but also maybe literally) stars in the sky and wield their star power. Names are sacrificed, or hidden for protection. These pieces give the story some extra teeth and a darker edge of danger that always feels present at the margins. The extra ambiguity over what's real in a story about movie magic is delicious.

I have mixed feelings about parts of the end, especially with the trip to San Francisco. I think this is probably the part where the novel loses me a little bit. The pieces work well, but the pacing is a little jarring. It's nice to have a moment to come full circle to Luli's sister, the reveal of art outside of Hollywood that Luli has been too tunnel-visioned to see, and the continuing contrast of the realness of Tara and other places with the fey world of movies. I like the depth that this journey adds, and I'm not sure where else arguably in the novel that it would go.

"What so great about being seen?" Tara demanded. "What's so important about that?"

She might have had the words for it, but I didn't. They locked up in my throat, about being invisible, about being alien and foreign and strange even in the place where I was born, and about the immortality that wove through my parents' lives but ultimately would fail them. Their immortality belonged to other people, and I hated that.

One thing I saw in this reread was how much the book played with "being seen": fey bargains to get seen in pictures; pressure about being seen in "wrong" ways; being mis-seen as Mexican instead of Venezuelan; being asked to make do things to be seen as straight and married; the fear of being seen as crossing class lines or being seen as queer and butch.