#novels — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #novels, aggregated by home.social.
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Edwidge Danticat on Haitian Americans in a Time of Peril
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
-
Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
-
Well that is it. This is the last entry/segment/piece of Beware the Ills. Thank you everyone who has seen this through till the end. It meant a lot to me. It was my first and favorite book. What a story.
#writing #reading #fiction #books #novels #horror #fantasy #darkfantasy #steampunk
https://patrickwmarshauthor.wordpress.com/2026/09/04/beware-the-ills-part-59/
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Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#books #darkfantasy #fantasy #fiction #horror #novels #reading #steampunk #writing -
Beware the Ills: Part 59
I can feel the opening, a coolness spreading into my abdomen. It was in his sleeve. I have been stabbed, a dagger, rusty and covered with poison. It belonged to them, his people from long ago.
He must’ve dug it up here in the graveyard one day.
I’m on one knee. The poison’s working already. I need to leave here.
Of all places, I can’t die here.
She’s running over to me. She’s safe. She stops to look at Haukter and then back at me. She reaches for his hood, and mangled fur.
“Don’t touch him,” I manage to whisper. It’ll be hard to speak.
She looks at me with a strange mixture of surprise.
“I don’t want to know how he looks. Just leave him alone.”
More snow falling, the wind whirls quietly. She steps away from him and approaches me. I can hear the waves, I swear it.
“Please, please, help me get to the shore.”
I don’t think I’ll be able to talk anymore.
I lean on her as we walk. She’s strong and gentle against my shaky feet. I use every bit of strength to keep the blackness of the poison away. She’s walking and pulling me as fast as she can.
Soon we’re on the hills next to the shore. Our walk through the forest was a blur, a blood induced haze. I have lost my concept of time.
But I can still hear the lovely waves roaring.
She walks me to the edge of the forest where the ground slants down onto the white sand. She stops there, staring at the lapping black waves. She helps me sit down against a tree above the sand. Snow falls on us as we rest against its grey trunk. The evening sun has started to vanish above the lines of sea-clouds.
“Bring me to the water please?” I ask feebly. It’s rather embarrassing, my weakness. I’m not in a position for vanity. I will never again be in the position for it. She kneels down beside me and takes the black glove off my right hand. There’s blood on it, it’s soaked through. She holds my hand with a gentle, trembling softness. The invaders leftover ships bob on the black water like memories. She looks out at the shore and dark sea with dreaming eyes.
“No, you can’t get your way,” she says. She smiles behind her lips. I hope she can return safely.
I smile truthfully, and happily. I didn’t expect this kindness of not being alone. More blood-haze and faraway thoughts fill my inner eyes. Memories of dying faces, the Shingles, and those tortured Ills brush by me like phantoms. My heart feels heavy for them, and my mind can’t focus on anything, just all matters of past and present. I think of myself, and all my actions, and it’s as if two minds were within me. The one killing in the open and the other deep within me hoping and praying.
I would change.
Snow is falling. The waves roll back and forth against the sand endlessly.
The water looks so cold, so black, and so limitless.
It is beautiful.
#fantasy #horror #writing #books #novels #fiction #steampunk #reading #darkfantasy -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
GOOSE CREEK HOLLER is featured in the Book Funnel promotion, NOBODY IS INNOCENT. Nothing could be truer in my Appalachian thriller, where even the good guys have to bend the rules and the law to survive. Check out all the other great titles in the promo and then CLICK ON GOOSE CREEK HOLLER to learn more! https://books.bookfunnel.com/nobody-is-innocent/ym4sbqxlru
#books #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #innocent #goosecreekholler #book #indie #mastodon #bookstodon #booksky #rural #ruralnoir #grittyNovels #gritlit #novels #novel #author #authors #reading #readingCommunity #fediverse #thriller #crimeFiction #mastodon #sophiajanehayden #writersCoffeeClub #writer #mysteryNovel #mystery -
Some of Violet Jacob’s works are available to download as free ebooks via @gutenberg_org
4 novels: Flemington, The Sheep-Stealers, Irresolute Catherine, & The Interloper;
2 poetry collections: Bonnie Joann, and Other Poems, & Songs of Angus and More Songs of Angus;
The Golden Heart, & Other Fairy Stories8/8
https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/7709
#Scottish #literature #Scots #Scotslanguage #19thCentury #20thcentury #WomenWriters #VioletJacob #novels #poetry #shortstories #shortfiction #fairytales
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FRAGMENTS OF A COMPLICATED LIFE surface for a woman in crisis, from her triumphs as an actor in the Yiddish theater to her childhood in a Siberian gulag to the heartbreaks of marriage. Luminous prose draws us in. B PLUS
https://www.delphiniumbooks.com/book/the-world-between/
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #historicalfiction #Jewishfiction #SmallPressSunday
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A UGANDAN FAMILY'S SECRETS come to light after a sudden tragedy. Lovely, thoughtful novel vividly evokes the beauty of Uganda's countryside and the threats LGBTQ Ugandans face from both traditional and Christian mores. B PLUS
https://houseofanansi.com/collections/literary-fiction/products/everything-is-fine-here
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #Uganda #UgandanWriters #UgandanCanadianWriters #lgbtqai #2slgbtqai #SmallPressSunday
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I made another poster. GOOSE CREEK HOLLER. MONEY. MOUNTAINS. MURDER. Legal thrills in the heart of Appalachia. #mastodon #mastoArt #books #bookstodon #booksky #bookReview #book #poster #postADay #post #ad #advertising #ads #writing #author #august #authorLife #authors #writingCommunity #writers #writer #productivity #pro #promotion #socialmedia #fediverse #worldBuilding #words #graphics #pictures #picture #novels #novel #fun #exhibition #selfPromo #indieAuthor #indieAuthors #indie #DailyCreate #creative #creativity #readingCommunity #reading #read #ebooks #ebook #paperbackCoverArt #paper #publishing #published #ProductLaunch #creek #rural #Appalachia #legal #attorney #law #lawsuit #lawyer #crimeFiction #suspense #thriller #mystery #hills #hidden #murder #mountains #money
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Doing It Her Way
Before MacKenzie Scott became one of the world’s most generous philanthropists, she was a novelist. Turns out she still is.
MacKenzie Scott has given away $26B. Now she’s releasing a novel—but you won’t find it on Amazon
Scott is releasing her new novel piece by piece, having dropped the title, epigraph, personae, and contents on Saturday, the prologue on Sunday, and the first chapter called “Monday” on Monday. It appears the entire novel will be out by Aug. 31.
Interestingly, the story is being serialized on Substack and is still being released, but this link takes you to the main page.
Start with the August 8th post, “Last Days in Two Nations.”
* * *
Photo by Julia Kamm on Unsplash #365Ways #365Ways2026 #freeFiction #literature #MacKenzieScott #novels #publishing #Writers #writing -
Happy International Cat Day! Just received my first bad review on my book GOOSE CREEK HOLLER. Pretty harsh, and while I get where the reviewer is coming from, did he actually read the part about the other Southern delicacies consumed by the Appalachian family of Buchnells? It also starts with a "G". I think not, or he might have given a more favorable review and at least a one paw up. And it's hollar, not holler, Mr. Harrison. Sheesh, reviewers. #cats #cat #bookReview #reviews #review #mastodon #fediverse #books #booksky #bookstodon #book #humor #fun #caturday #saturday #goose #goosecreekholler #sophiajanehayden #novels #novel #Southern #Appalachia #Appalachian #mysteryThriller #mystery #writingCommunity #writing #writer #writers #scribesAndMakers #writingCommunity #reading #read #readersofmastodon #readingCommunity #readin2026 #felines #harrison #catskills #words #iamwriting
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Writers and readers of Mastodon! What are your favorite 'guilty pleasure' fantasy, horror, or sci-fi tropes?
A big one for me is magic systems that require a flowchart to understand 😅
#writing #reading #books #fantasy #scifi #horror #novels #tropes #guiltypleasure #fantasybooks #scifibooks #horrorbooks
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Shadow Ticket https://library.hrmtc.com/2026/07/24/shadow-ticket-2/ #AnneEsTrenteVingtieMeSieCleRomansNouvellesEtc #book #DetectiveAndMysteryFiction #DeTectivesRomansNouvellesEtc #fiction #FictionLiterary #FictionNoir #FictionMysteryDetectivePrivateInvestigators #historicalFiction #literaryFiction #MilwaukeeWis #MilwaukeeWisFiction #MissingPersonsFiction #MissingPersonsInvestigationFiction #mystery #MysteryThriller #NineteenThirtiesFiction #NoirFiction #NoirNovels #Novels #PersonnesDisparuesEnqueTesRomansNouvellesEtc #PopularFiction #PrivateInvestigatorsFiction #review #romans #TPolyphilus #thomasPynchon #ThrillersFiction -
Shadow Ticket https://library.hrmtc.com/2026/07/24/shadow-ticket-2/ #AnneEsTrenteVingtieMeSieCleRomansNouvellesEtc #book #DetectiveAndMysteryFiction #DeTectivesRomansNouvellesEtc #fiction #FictionLiterary #FictionNoir #FictionMysteryDetectivePrivateInvestigators #historicalFiction #literaryFiction #MilwaukeeWis #MilwaukeeWisFiction #MissingPersonsFiction #MissingPersonsInvestigationFiction #mystery #MysteryThriller #NineteenThirtiesFiction #NoirFiction #NoirNovels #Novels #PersonnesDisparuesEnqueTesRomansNouvellesEtc #PopularFiction #PrivateInvestigatorsFiction #review #romans #TPolyphilus #thomasPynchon #ThrillersFiction -
AN ECOLOGICAL AND ARCHITECTURAL GOTHIC, set in a dying Milan, centers on a unique house built in 1986, now for sale in a 2040s ravaged by climate disaster. Past and future weave together in a lush, evocative, haunting novel. A MINUS
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #sciencefiction #gothic #Italy #Milan #SmallPressSunday
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SURREAL, DREAMLIKE, GRIM tale with flashes of satiric wit depicts a world where factionalism and political policing continue even beyond the grave. Borges and Kafka are touchstones here, as are Bulgakov and Voinovich. A MINUS
https://archipelagobooks.org/book/the-monroe-girls/
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #satire #surrealism #SmallPressSunday
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AN INTERDIMENSIONAL QUEER ROMANCE mixes highfalutin literary, musical, and artistic references with a succession of witty pop-culture riffs. Above all, it's a parable in dazzling visual prose about becoming yourself. A MINUS
https://www.littlepuss.net/shop/p/plastic-prism-void-part-one-by-violet-allen-ebook
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #fiction #novel #novels #fantasy #sciencefiction #lgbtq #lgbtqai2s #trans #SmallPressSunday
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FIERCELY, BLEAKLY ELOQUENT novel tells the brutal story of a shattered life without a bit of artifice or melodrama. Depression, alcohol, drugs, and too many losses lead to a man's slow disintegration in a drowning world. SOLID A
https://www.ortacpress.com/product-page/keshed
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #England #SmallPressSunday
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CHARMING COZY MYSTERY set in a lakeside town near the Indiana Dunes centers on a yarn and tea shop run by a Hollywood agent's daughter and his biggest client's slacker child. Appealing characterization and sense of place. B PLUS
https://severnhouse.com/books/sconed-to-death/
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #mystery #mysteries #cozymystery #cozymysteries #SmallPressSunday
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A MANY-FACETED TRINIDADIAN EPIC focused on generations of one Indo-Trinidadian family combines vivid description, characterization, and historical detail with breathtaking moments of magical realism. B PLUS
#book #Books #bookreview #bookreviews #bookstodon #fiction #novel #novels #novelsinstories #historicalfiction #magicalrealism #magicrealism #trinidad #indotrinidadian #trinidadTobago #SmallPressSunday
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INTRICATE, TERRIFYING, DREAMLIKE novel of alienated despair weaves together the stories of two young trans women who look exactly alike, caught in the horrors of modern life and something deeper. Kafkaesque yet fresh. B PLUS
https://www.littlepuss.net/shop/p/persona-pb-chariot-marketing-solutions-biometric-initializedotexe
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SUBTLE, FASCINATING BOLIVIAN novel plays with layers of meta narrative to tell two stories: one of a teenage tragedy, and one of a writer decades later trying to make sense of that incident, and of his adolescence. Stunning! A MINUS
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-invisible-years-rodrigo-hasbun/1146882816?ean=9781646054152
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Man Clearly Going Through Something Buys Really Big Fantasy Book
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My #StarWars strategy is simple.
Everything pre-2014 is fair game, focus on Sith and Dark Side. Back then it was all just #StarWars, no #Canon, no #Legends split. That division is a #Disney administrative decision, not a creative one. The books didn't change.
Post-2014 I go selective. A handful of exceptions that actually deliver depth, specific comics, one or two series. The rest I skip without guilt.
New Canon #novels? Not for me. Structurally they can't deliver what the old EU did. Time is limited and Legends already has years of material waiting.
The old Expanded Universe is a closed, finished #universe. That makes it more valuable, not less.
No filler, no endless Disney+ content to keep up with. Just decades of rich #storytelling that trusted its audience. -
2/2
Then #Disney bought #Lucasfilm in 2012.
April 2014: everything declared non-canon overnight. Hundreds of #novels, #comics, #games – all officially "Legends" now.The authors didn't stop writing #StarWars. But Canon only now. No new Legends stories will ever be published. The door is permanently closed.
What remains is a finished universe. Complete, rich, deep. Like a #classic literature collection that rewards going deeper the more you read.
Disney didn't just erase stories. They ended a whole direction of storytelling that trusted its audience to handle complexity.Now exploring it properly. Years of material waiting.
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A METAL BAND’S SEARCH for their vanished lead singer leads them to a terrifying ordeal deep in the Oregon forests. Sharp and savvy creepypasta-esque horror with strong characterization and an engaging style. A MINUS
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