#REVIEW: The SHADOWS OF THE APT series, by Adrian Tchaikovsky

I am tempted, in writing about Adrian Tchaikovsky’s ten-book, 6000+ page, nearly two million word series Shadows of the Apt, to be terse: read it.

But, like, that’s kind of a big ask, y’know? The series is 1.924 million words long. As a comparison, the Wheel of Time series is 4.36 million words. A Song of Ice and Fire is currently at 1.749 million, with two imaginary books left to go. James S.A. Corey’s Expanse series is 1.493 million words. The entire length of this blog: 1.563 million words. The King James Bible is around 785,000, depending on how you count and who you ask.

Oh, and there are apparently four volumes of short stories outside the main story? I just found out they existed, finding out they existed made me want to die, and I don’t know how much they add.

It’s a lot. And what fascinates me is that Shadows of the Apt has got to be the least well-known of all the big fantasy megaseries. Tchaikovsky writes seventeen books a year (he has, no joke, released five new books since I’ve been reading this series. I mean it. I’m not kidding.) and I don’t feel like the guy gets nearly enough credit for being as amazing as he is. Shadows was written between —

— you may want to sit down, as this is ridiculous —

— 2008 and 2014. All of those books came out in six years, and I’d bet money that he released books unrelated to SotA during that time, plus, remember, those four extra books.

I do not know a single other person who has read this series, and I never see anyone talking about it. I can’t explain this.

I picked up Empire in Black and Gold in October, and I finished Seal of the Worm earlier this week, obviously with a lot of detours. The series breaks down rather nicely into a four-book series, Empire through Salute the Dark, and I took a decent-size break in between that and picking up The Scarab Path. Path and Sea Watch feel pretty stand-alone, as they do a Two Towers sort of thing and don’t share a lot of characters, and then the last four books go in a big gulp, but they follow pretty closely on the events of Path and Sea Watch.

I haven’t said a single word about the actual fuckin’ story yet.

Adrian Tchaikovsky likes bugs. Outside of John Irving he may be the most “Oh, there it is” author I’ve ever read. Every John Irving book is going to include weird sex, an amputation, a bear, a hotel, and wrestling. Adrian Tchaikovsky books without bugs are rare. And in Shadows of the Apt, every character is a bug. Every single one.

Well. Sorta. The human race is divided into something called kinden, and each kinden has the characteristics of a type of bug, which somehow sounds weirder than it is. They’re all still human, mind you, and kinden can interbreed, but there are Beetle-kinden and Wasp-kinden and Mantis-kinden and … let’s see, spiders, flies, bees, ants, moths, mosquitoes, scorpions (there’s a reason I said “bug” and not “insect”), dragonflies, woodlice, and, uh, Mole Crickets.

I admit it, I burst out laughing the first time a Mole Cricket-kinden showed up in the book. That’s not an exhaustive list by any means, especially since a handful of the kinden are spoilers, and I never got the feeling that Tchaikovsky had sat down and written out an exhaustive list that he was never going to break away from. I’m pretty sure there’s a stick bug kinden in there somewhere that only gets mentioned a handful of times, and there’s exactly one butterfly-kinden in the entire series. I think if he got an idea for a character with a new kinden, he just put them in and rolled with it.

oh my god I just googled mole cricket for the first time oh my god OH MY GOD WHAT the FUCK

Anyway, most of the main characters are Beetles and Wasps, with a few significant Mantises and Spiders, but by the end of the series the list of characters is like eight pages long. Some kinden have, effectively, powers– Wasps have a sting that is basically a force blast they can shoot from their hands, several kinden can fly, and Ants are effectively a hive mind, and not all of them are completely human-shaped– Mole Crickets (brrrr) are ten feet tall, for example, and Mantis-kinden have some spiky bits that the rest don’t have. Some can see in the dark. Some can dig basically as fast as they can walk. You get the idea. There are cultural differences as well, although the series does take some pains to not be completely “orcs are like this, and elves are like that,” if you know what I mean. Spiders are gonna be Like That, but then he’ll throw a Spider at you that isn’t Like That, just to make sure you realize there’s diversity in the kinden.

So yeah, the first four books are the Wasps basically trying to take over the world. That war ends in book four. In the back six they basically consolidate what they lost in the first war and then try again, and the entire tenth book is a spoiler. The big problem with maxiseries like this is that there can be a lot of filler– I will never get tired of pointing out that the entire second book of The Wheel of Time could be a ten-page prologue to book three without losing anything– and it’s amazing how well this series keeps the plot moving. If anything, I felt like Book Ten could be broken into two books with another 300 pages and I’d have been fine with it, as some of the developments in that book feel like they come kind of out of left field. The flabbiest part of the series is The Sea Watch, which is the only book that’s remotely skippable, and even that one is stuffed full of tons of crazy cool ideas. It’s just that they don’t pay off sufficiently in subsequent books, which is part of why I feel like Seal of the Worm could be two books.

The different kinden are broken into two categories, the Apt and the Inapt. Apt kinden can use technology, and the work various groups of Apt artificers do over the course of the series to forge new ways to kill each other is genuinely impressive. Inapt kinden simply cannot use technology, and I’ll admit that figuring out what this exactly meant was one of my few complaints about the series. What is meant by that is that you can literally hand a crossbow, powered by a trigger, to an Inapt Mantis-kinden and they will be unable to figure out that pulling the trigger will shoot the thing. Most of the races that have major characters are Apt, and you don’t really get into the head of an Inapt character until really late, so it takes a while for it to sink in that Tchaikovsky really means it when he says at one point that if a door is opened by a button, an Inapt character will not be able to figure out how to open that door or understand how it works even if someone else shows them. Ultimately, this is a fantasy series, with swords and armor and such, but the artificers and the Apt kinden give a nice soupçon of science fiction to go with it.

(Yes, I wrote that sentence just so I could say soupçon.)

There is also magic, but … Christ, that’s a whole thing, and it’s practically a spoiler just to say that, but let’s say that the back part of the series is more about magic and the Apt vs the Inapt than the first part is, where that distinction is really in the background.

So much for being terse.

Please read this series. Come back in two years and let me know when you’re done. I need someone to talk to about it.

In which I must be sick

I haven’t ordered the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC yet.

I … what?

I put something like 130 hours into Elden Ring. My Let’s Play series is a hundred and ten episodes long. I completed every mission I could find, got the Platinum trophy, all of the endings, everything. Played the absolute ever-loving shit out of that game and enjoyed Goddamn near every second of it.

And they’re releasing a lengthy DLC on the 21st, which by all indications is amazing. And I haven’t bought it, I don’t think I’m going to buy it, and I’m not excited about it. Right now I should be planning on staying up late on Thursday night so that I can get started immediately, just like I did with the actual game. I stayed up late to record the demo, for God’s sake.

What the hell is wrong with me?

There’s been a consistent theme in my life over the last several years of this creeping anhedonia, where I just … stop doing things I used to really love doing, or stop enjoying things I used to enjoy. I effectively don’t watch anything any longer. No movies, no TV, nothing streaming. There’s a new season of The Boys, which I’ve enjoyed. Not gonna watch it. The Acolyte? Not gonna watch it. I’m done with Star Wars. I’m done with Marvel. I’m only still buying comic books because my weekly trip to the comic shop is my only reliable in-person interaction with human beings I’m not related to or work with; I can’t stop shopping there unless I move or die. I could literally just come home and put them in a box and never read them and I wouldn’t miss a thing.

You’re never going to catch me complaining about reading, but it’s literally the only thing I do for fun. That’s weird, right? I read books and I write here. Dassit. Those are my hobbies. The honest truth is I think I could sell my PS5 and my Xbox and I wouldn’t miss them. And I’ve been a gamer my entire life.

I don’t fucking get it, and I don’t like it.

(And, to forestall this: Yes, I recognize that I’m basically describing a textbook case of clinical depression here. And while I’m on Effexor, that’s an anti-anxiety med, not an antidepressant, and I don’t think the two overlap much. But I have no other symptoms of depression, including the not exactly minor detail that I’m rarely actually feeling depressed. This is a mental health issue, don’t misunderstand me, but I feel like the most obvious answer is not the right one.)

Sigh: a social media note

My need to place minor thoughts where people can see them, but also to not give my time and attention to Nazis, has led me to open a new BlueSky account. You may follow me there, if you so desire.

Blech

I slept like absolute shit last night and I’ve been alternating between nauseous, dizzy and chills (?!?) all day. God, the second day after Mounjaro sucks.

At any rate, I’ve got nothing for you today, so feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

Terrible pictures of beautiful pictures

The Leeper Park Art Fair was this weekend, and I’ve been waiting a literal year to go buy something printed on metal from Josh Merrill, and we went and did that this morning. And, damn it, this looks gorgeous in person, and I was excited enough about it that I got it hung the same day we bought it, which qualifies as a minor miracle. So naturally now, because I’m a schmuck, looking at my picture of it all I can see is that damn smoke alarm and that it looks too small over the couch.

In person, not the case. That’s a 20″ x 40″ print, and in person it doesn’t look that small. Also, and in general, prints on metal don’t seem to photograph well; the colors glow in a way that I find completely entrancing in person, and I love this piece. That said, instead of fighting with glare and such to take another picture from my phone, here’s the piece, entitled “New Day,” taken from his website:

In case you didn’t click on the link, that picture is taken inside of an ice cave somewhere in northern Minnesota and it was seventeen below zero outside at the time. Josh is a lunatic, y’all.

It’s official

I was given twelve years, nine months and twenty-two days of fatherhood before my kid became taller than me.

I’m 5’10”, by the way. He just finished sixth grade, which means he will absolutely be topping six feet before the end of seventh.

Christ, I’m old.

#REVIEW: Blood at the Root, by Ladarrion Williams

This is another one of those “See that cover? Go buy this book” types of reviews. Because … damn.

They say that authors nowadays need a social media presence in order to sell any books, and, well, I’m only aware of Blood at the Root because the TikTok algorithm put Ladarrion Williams in front of my face over and over again until I caved and ordered his book. And Williams is refreshingly direct about why he wrote this book: there aren’t enough Black boys in fantasy books, and so he wrote a fantasy book with a Black boy as the main character. Or, a Black young man at least, as Malik is 17 at the beginning of the book. Which, come to think of it, I don’t remember him having a birthday during the book, so he’s an awfully young college freshman, but I think he mentioned finishing school early at some point, so it’s probably fine.

I am certain that I’m not the first person to describe Blood at the Root as “Harry Potter at an HBCU.” In fact, I’m pretty sure the author himself has used that formulation. And, honestly, for the first half of the book or so, it’s a little bit too much Harry Potter at an HBCU, to be honest with you. You will literally be going through this book saying “Okay, here’s Hermione, and this guy is probably Draco, and that guy is definitely Snape, and oh! look! Death Eaters!” and so on and so forth. The first half is very, very tropey, in a way that I was willing to let slide because 1) the book is YA and 2) the actual intended market of the book is Black boys who don’t read much, so, y’know, the repeated tropes from other books that they haven’t read isn’t going to bother them, right? But it’s definitely there and it would be kind of ridiculous to not take note of it.(*)

That said, Harry Potter at an HBCU in Louisiana with a Black male lead is going to be pretty distinct from the Daniel Radcliffe books no matter how much it borrows, and the freshness of Williams’ Afro-Haitian mix of magics and characters is enough to carry you through the first half. Malik himself is a great character; I recognize this kid, and I’ve had to teach him math in the past, and his relationships with the other characters in the book, particularly his younger foster brother Taye and his childhood friend Alexis are tremendously well-drawn.

And then that second half hits, and you discover that all that emotional investment in the characters is about to be used against you, and the number of twists and turns and betrayals is head-spinning. Like, I don’t cry when reading books, and to a large extent I don’t understand people who claim that books make them cry all the time, but if I was a crier this one would have gotten me at at least two or three entirely distinct points.

The book definitely has some weak points, and there are bits and bobs here and there where you can tell it’s a debut novel, but it ends so well that I can’t help but strongly recommend it. I’m not sure when the sequel comes out, but I’m sure TikTok will let me know, and I’ll have it on day one. Check it out.

(*) Not that I think anyone’s going to call me out on it, but I want to point out that all of the punctuation in that sentence is exactly where I want it to be. “Black boys who don’t read much” and not “Black boys, who don’t read much”. Thank you.

I’m reading books tonight

I have a hundred pages left in Book 8 of Shadows of the Apt, and I want that series done and dusted by the end of next week. Two more to go after this one. So.

What are you reading?