131 pages
Published 2020
Read from January 1 to January 2
Rating: 2.5 out of 5
I've been maintaining this book blog for ten years now. An entire decade, which carried us from the middle of the Obama years to the current landscape ravaged by fascism and disease, which saw me through heartbreaks and relationships large and small, which saw my own personal horizons of gender, sexuality, and radicalism expand far beyond my banal suburban liberalism of the Obama years. In that time, I've read 561 books (this one is the 562nd), the vast majority of which I read in the first four years. I haven't read the same book twice this whole time.
All those years and all those books, and I still haven't learned to write a real book review. Oh well.
This blog has always been (and likely always will be) for my own enjoyment. In those first few years, I would get a couple dozen page views per review, but those days are long gone. Almost every review I've posted after 2016 has gotten fewer than ten views; the ones I've posted since 2020 have gotten five or fewer, for the most part. And that's okay. I struggle to articulate anything worth saying about any of the books I read, and I've always said that my ratings are purely subjective (remember: 2.5 out of 5 is, from me, a pretty decent review!).
Going forward, I want to make some changes, if only for my own satisfaction.
Firstly, I want to read a whole lot more. 2017-2021 were dire years for me, personally. While the future is dire for our species as a whole, I want to at least read more books while I can. After such a long book drought, I finally cracked 50 titles in 2022. In 2023, I want to read at least 60 books, possibly even match my lowest good year, 2015, at 75.
Secondly, I'm permitting myself the luxury of rereading books that I've already reviewed. I may merely note them as having been read, or I may write out an entirely new review if I think I found some new way to think of it. Look for The Lord of the Rings and Radiance to come back around in the nearish future.
Thirdly, I might make a habit out of reviewing short fiction and poetry from online magazines. I might make a monthly post collecting everything I read from indie SFF mags, for example. Who knows! I'll figure it out as I go. Certainly look for more magazines in general -- my collection of F&SF back issues is extensive.
Finally: I've made a modest amount of contacts in the SFF field, all of them either indie authors or up-and-comers only recently making it into the pro markets. I've been hesitant to read their books because I like to write essentially honest reviews, and I don't want to lead to an indie author losing a single sale because I didn't click with their book. I think I'll try to be a bit less anxious about that, moving forward. After all, no one reads this silly blog but me. (And you, whoever you might be. All one of you.)
That brings me, at long last, to this book, which fits into the hazy printed-on-demand land between small-press and self-published indie author. It's a cozy queer fantasy with a bunch of didactic dialogue about identity, acceptance, neurodiversity, and the various ways in which we can all be ourselves. All of which is super lovely, 10 out of 10, no notes.
I was trying to put my finger on what, exactly, the prose and pacing reminded me of, until I realized this book feels an awful lot like a 1980s middle grade chapter book. Kiki's Delivery Service comes to mind. It isn't my favorite writing style, not by a long shot, and I wasn't expecting it when I went into Ynys.
It's still a perfectly adequate book -- as I said, 2.5 out of 5 is a fine review in my blog -- and I'm glad to have read it. If you want cozy queer fantasy with an old school middle grade vibe, go seek this one out!
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