I need everyone to understand this

It is snowing again.

I do not think that losing school again tomorrow is likely, but if it does happen, I will lose my shit.

I will then go hunting, and rob many other people of their shit.

Which I will then also lose.

I require some normalcy, and I require it right now.

(Wow. Do not use DuckDuckGo.com to search for “fuck snow” if you have the explicit image filter turned off. Jesus.)

Anyway.

Today was, honestly, a pretty decent day– the kids were a little wild after a surprise week off, but not mean wild, just talky and silly– and there’s a new Iron Man #1 out (I didn’t make it to the comic shop yesterday), and I got three books delivered that I’ve been looking forward to, and there’s a new demo out for Nioh 3. So I’ve got a whole lot of media consumin’ heading my way.

Anyway. Everybody cross your fingers and, against all sense, hope for no snow tonight, so that we can keep the Western Hemisphere.

Quick #review: For We Are Many, by Dennis E. Taylor

Okay, I can get this written. I think.

I promised that once the second Bobiverse book, For We Are Many, showed up I’d get it read quickly so I could follow up on whether there were any women in this one. Good news and bad news: the first time a woman speaks is a hundred pages in. She has one line, it is about her son, and she disappears for a while afterwards. But one of the more important secondary characters is female! In fact, she’s kind of important to one of the bigger themes of the book. Now, unfortunately, we’re nowhere near passing the Bechdel test or anything like that— to the best of my recollection there isn’t a scene with more than one woman talking at all, much less to each other— but this book represents an improvement, if not a huge one, over the first.

It is still good in all of the ways that the first one was good, and frankly it’s genuinely getting more interesting, so I’m kind of hoping that as time moves on a lot of the male secondary characters all have daughters and we can interact with them some more. All of the Bobs, of course, are immortal so long as they aren’t killed, so I would expect the secondary cast to change a lot.

Book Three comes out in the fancy new edition in March; I might cave and read it digitally before that. We’ll see.

It’s cold outside so I’m reading

It’s cold as fuck outside and I’ve got an upset stomach, so I read all 700 pages of this today. I’m not sure that it’s a good book in an objective sort of sense but it was absolutely what I was looking for.

Now I have to read a Wheel of Time book, so I’m going to be miserable for a few days.

#REVIEW: We are Legion (We are Bob), by Dennis E. Taylor

I was not previously aware that printing the word “BOB” repeatedly on the edges of a book would cause me to impulse-buy it, but indeed, that’s what happened. Turns out the word “Bobiverse” is also a trigger; this is Book One of at least five, four of which have already been published as indie books. This is the tradpubbed edition; Book 2 will be out next week, and the next three are going to follow roughly bimonthly after that. My understanding is that #5 has only just been written, so that will be the first publication, but you can grab the first four right now if you want the indie versions.

This book was going to get some credit for originality, if nothing else; the idea is that Bob Johansson, the main (and virtually only) character, sells his tech company for Big Money at the beginning of the book, and more or less on a lark signs up for a cryogenics program. Once he dies his head gets lopped off and frozen, to await his eventual revival when technology catches up to fixing whatever killed him.

And then he dies, pretty much right away, rather ignominiously getting hit by a car. And he wakes up a hundred years later as an AI, a piece of property, and slated to be the controlling intelligence of a series of Von Neumann probes designed to find extraterrestrial planets suitable for humanity to move to. A Von Neumann probe, if you’re not aware, is a type of probe designed to be self-replicating; the idea is that it finds an asteroid or some other source of raw materials and creates another probe, which then flies off in a different direction, to create more probes, which then create more probes, which then create more probes, and on and on until something underpants-gnomey happens.

Bob is … less than thrilled by this development, and even less thrilled by the theocracy that America has turned into in the intervening hundred years (a bit on the nose there, Mr. Taylor) but he is an engineer and a software guy, so he’s able to hack his own programming so that once he escapes Earth’s direct control, he can more or less do whatever he wants. The interesting bit, of course, is that with every probe he creates, he has to effectively clone himself. He implements a rule where every successive Bob has to rename itself so that we don’t have a million characters with the same name running around, so one Bob is called Homer and another is Riker and so on (Bob is a big nerd) but they are all effectively him, if occasionally slightly tweaked from his base personality, so to speak.

The narrative fractures along with the Bobs, and by the end of the story we’re following, oh, three or four parallel stories, with a nice timeline in the front to help you keep everything straight: some of the Bobs have returned to Earth, now a post-apocalyptic nuclear wasteland, to help the remnants of humanity off of the planet; some of them, including Bob Prime, have found a planet with sentient life on it and are helping to nudge the inhabitants along against a competing species that finds them tasty, and others are hunting down the probes sent into space by Brazil, who immediately declare war upon the Bobs the first time they come across one another. There are a few other storylines that don’t get a ton of attention, but those are the big ones.

It’s a lot of fun, and I’ve got the rest of the series preordered, so I’ll get Bobiverse 2 next week and the rest of them as they come out. There’s only one real problem, and for right now, I’m cutting the series some slack, and we’ll see how he handles said issue in the future: at the beginning of the book, flesh-Bob is celebrating his windfall with a few friends, all of whom he’s cut in on the deal and who are also quite rich now, if not quite as flush as Bob is. They don’t have cryogenics money, is what I’m saying. One of those friends is female.

After Bob gets hit by the car, another woman does not have a single line for over two hundred pages.

All of the Bobs are male, of course, but even a large majority of the secondary characters are male. There are a few world leaders back on Earth, the intelligence controlling the Brazilian probes, a couple of doctors who Bob deals with before leaving the planet, and a couple of named members of the species Bob discovers. All but maybe two or three of those are male, and most of the females don’t really get a whole lot of time on the page, sometimes just a line or two before they disappear. A female descendant of Bob’s sister shows up and gets less than a paragraph before she’s whisked offstage, for example. Now, again, Dennis Taylor has gone to some lengths to make it clear that the Bobs aren’t exact replicas of one another, but they’re all versions of his personality, one way or another; I find myself wondering if Bob is going to find a way to create female clones of himself in the next book. Inside the story logic, I’m not completely convinced it matters, as Bob doesn’t actually have a flesh body any longer; he’s a space ship. But he’s certainly culturally male even if he doesn’t have a gendered body any longer, and, I dunno, maybe the smart bat-pig alien could have been a girl?

Again, I enjoyed the book, and Bob’s hardly a hypermasculine alpha male, so it’s not as if the book is dripping with testosterone or anything. The Wheel of Time has a ton of female characters and is somehow a much more gender-essentialist, masculinist series, for example, and Ken Liu’s Dandelion Dynasty also started off very man-heavy and corrected it completely in the second book. But I’ve got an eyebrow up, and I hope this gets addressed in future books. So consider this a three-quarters thumbs up, if that makes any sense, and I’ll try and get For We Are Many read quickly when it shows up so that I can report back.

#REVIEW: Children of Ash and Elm: A History of the Vikings, by Neil Price

Book cover of 'Children of Ash and Elm: A History of the Vikings' by Neil Price featuring a stylized ship's bow against a textured green background.

Turns out the Vikings didn’t wear horn helmets.

This is the second year in a row where I’ve deliberately decided to increase the number of nonfiction books I read. Last year I read a decent number of broad survey types of histories; books called The Assyrians, or A History of Japan, or maybe just India. And, while I can’t really claim this was a new realization, it became clear pretty quickly that that type of history is hard to do well, especially in a way that is accessible to non-specialists. I read a lot of biography and a lot of histories about specific events or smaller chunks of history; World War II, for an obvious example, is a pretty broad topic, but it’s a hell of a lot easier to write a single-volume history of that than an entire country or ethnic group over hundreds of years, right? Those types of histories are a lot easier to write, or at the very least I’ve read a lot more good ones.

Children of Ash and Elm, as a broad survey history of an ethnic group over a few hundred years, definitely felt kinda risky, despite the fact that Vikings are automatically interesting. A few hundred years of history, minimum, of a group of people that, to put it mildly, moved around a lot. I was going to save my two favorite anecdotes from this book for the end, but they’re relevant now: there is evidence that the Vikings raided both Constantinople and Alexandria, and remember, that was by boat, meaning that they had to sail around the entirety of Europe and through the entire Mediterranean to get there. In addition, they’ve found a Viking burial site in Greenland, dating to roughly 1000 CE, which in and of itself isn’t especially surprising. What was surprising? The corpse was wearing a cloak made of buffalo hide.

That’s mind-blowing, even if the most reasonable explanation is that the hide was traded a time or two on its way from the American Great Plains all the way up to, what, Nova Scotia or Newfoundland, then presumably bought or looted by the Viking, who eventually made his way back to Greenland and died, to be buried in what surely had to be his favorite cloak. I doubt there were ever any Vikings out meeting with the Comanche a thousand years ago, but hell, who knows?

Point is, this could have been much drier than it was. Children of Ash and Elm dodges every pitfall of this type of broad history and remains engaging and lively throughout; this was a great, fast read, and I plowed through its 500 pages in just a couple of days. I know you’re used to me saying that about big books, but history usually takes a bit longer, and I was fully expecting this book to take me a week. History doesn’t often keep me up late. This book cost me some sleep– sleep I was happy to spend, but nonetheless. And as I can’t claim any particular depth of knowledge in pre-Christian Scandinavia, I’m comfortable saying that the author did a great job of making the book accessible to non-historians. If you have any interest in the subject matter at all– and it’s the bloody Vikings, who doesn’t think they’re interesting?– definitely grab this one.

Two books with the same problem

Pretty covers though, right? At least they have that going for them.

There have been a couple of wins so far in January as far as my reading goes, but on the whole I feel like the misses have well outweighed the hits. And I’m writing this particular piece not to shit on these two books but because the way they didn’t work for me felt very similar: in both cases, I feel like the author never bothered to clearly define some kind of fundamental aspects about how the world of the books worked.

The Bookshop Below, as you might guess, is about a magical bookshop. The book is set in the real world, more or less, but there are these bookstores scattered around — it’s not clear exactly how many there are, but they feel a bit too important for the number of them to be limited to the few we hear about in the book. At any rate, the stores are sort of sentient, and so are the books in them, and they only allow the people they want to find and enter them, and a lot of the time when people buy books from the bookstore they’ll trade a personal memento or a tooth or a lock of hair or, in what feels like a bit of an escalation, a firstborn child for the book they walk out with. The main character is a high-end book thief who ends up owning one of these bookstores, and the story goes from there.

I am not someone who demands that magic be rigorously defined in the books I read. Brandon Sanderson is kind of the king of the meticulously crafted magic system, where he can end his books with charts and diagrams of the twelve different schools of magic that exist and how they interact and blah blah blah. Tolkien, on the other hand? Gandalf and Saruman and Radagast are wizards, and shut up is how their powers work. It’s difficult, reading LOTR, to say the words “Gandalf can’t do that.” His powers and his magic don’t work like that. Now, there is tons of lore out there and histories of Middle-Earth and all that, but at no point does Tolkien sit the reader down and explain how shit worked.

The thing, though? Tolkien knew how shit worked, he just didn’t explain it. You cannot make a reasonable argument that JRR Tolkien pantsed his way through LOTR even given the tonal shift between The Hobbit and the rest of the books. The man knew what he was doing, he just didn’t think you needed to know.

And the problem with The Bookshop Below is that I finished the book unconvinced that the author had really sat down and worked out exactly what was going on in her own book. And maybe this is me punishing the book for not being the book I wanted; I’ve certainly had moments like that before, but the books in this story are doing things like flooding the bookstore because they’re unhappy, and I feel like if you’re going to have a setup like that, maybe you devote a little more attention to your worldbuilding. There’s also this whole big thing where the magic of the bookstores and the books is powered by The River, which connects all the stores, and which at least some of the payments for the books are given to, but it’s not at all clear what the deal with The River is either, and I really felt like the book kind of ended up collapsing under its own weight by the end.

I read Alma Katsu’s Fiend today– it’s less than 300 pages in a pretty big font, so this was not a huge achievement– and it was deeply disappointing. The issue with Fiend is that all the characters are part of the same family, and the family runs this massive multinational corporation that has made all of them massively rich. There is a lot of talk about what is going to happen when the patriarch of the family (who is weirdly referred to by his first name throughout the book, including by his own children) dies, and who is going to inherit the company, and also who will become head of their “clan”, and I guess those two people don’t have to be the same person, blah blah blah. It’s treated as a given that the company is extraordinarily dirty, and there’s lots of talk about whether this son or that daughter is tough enough to run the company, or whether they should try to change how things have always been done; you’ve seen The Godfather, you get the idea.

I don’t think Alma Katsu had any idea at all what the Berisha Corporation actually does. The synopsis calls it an “import-export” company, but that’s immensely vague, and it’s not clear at any point what the company is actually for. There is talk of sweatshops and exploitation and there’s a Whistleblower at one point, but the whole thing is very these people are bad, and this company is bad, just trust me, and … it doesn’t take much for me to accept that a multinational corporation is evil! I’m all in on the “capitalism bad” train! But give me something here. Even the scenes where these people are at work makes it really clear that the author never bothered to think through what anyone’s actual job was, and interestingly this book also seems to exist in a world without email. People have cell phones and there’s a stray mention or two of AI so it’s not like it’s set in the past; it’s just a big weird blind spot.

Blech. The world’s descent into hell is accelerating on a daily basis so far in 2026; I’d appreciate it if I could at least have something good to read.

#REVIEW: Bones at the Crossroads, by LaDarrion Williams

Before you read this review, which is of the second book in the Blood at the Root series, I’d like you to read my review of the first book, Blood at the Root. Why? Because it’s kind of fascinating just how cleanly my reading experience of Bones paralleled my reading of Blood:

  • I definitely and absolutely have had Malik in my classroom before. Even more so in this book than in the previous one, honestly; Williams calls Malik “messy” in his Author’s Foreword to this book, and I feel like Malik’s messiness, and to be more specific, his temper, maybe hurts him more in this book than it does in Blood. This is a kid who has been handed a raw deal by life on a ton of different levels (the magic kinda makes it better, I imagine) but one way or another he doesn’t handle it like a grown-up. Why? He’s not one.
  • Watching Malik navigate romantic relationships? Also super familiar.
  • I would say the moment where Williams absolutely stomps on the accelerator is closer to the 2/3 mark of the book than the halfway point, but while Blood came close to making me cry a couple of times– something that, let me repeat, almost never happens while I’m reading– page 368 absolutely 100% got me. Like, a literal gasp, and a well of pride, and I’m not going to pretend I was sobbing or anything but there were actual real tears.
  • I am not enough of a nerd that I’m going to figure out exactly what percentage of the book was finished at page 368, and you can’t make me.
  • NO.
  • It’s 67.6%, so my estimate was right on the money, fuck you.
  • Anyway, I referenced “twists and turns and betrayals” in the first review, and … YEAH. Along with some major reveals and some major shake-ups of what you thought you knew from the first book.

And then the Goddamned thing ends on a cliffhanger, and … remember when I was reading Godsgrave, a million years ago, and I said that I’d never been happier to have the sequel of a book on hand before finishing it? The sequel to Bones at the Crossroads hasn’t even got a release date yet, so LaDarrion Williams is about to acquire a new, and very impatient, roommate.

I will ding the book a tiny bit for dragging occasionally before that pedal-to-the-metal moment that carries through the rest of the story, and it doesn’t mean a whole lot to say this is the best book I’ve read so far this year on January 7th, but this was real real good and if you haven’t read Blood at the Root, go pick that up, and read slowly, and maybe by the time you finish Bones the end of the trilogy will be available.

Can’t talk, reading

This book just made me cry and I’m not getting up from this chair until I’ve finished it.