Reading Well: Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Posted on December 10, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (2023) is a supernatural thriller set in the burgeoning film industry of late 20th century Mexico City.

The novel revolves around a lifelong friendship that always dances on the edge of (potentially doomed) romance between the female protagonist, who is smart and tough and a little worn down by being a woman in a male-dominated field (audio engineering at the transition from manual to digital methods) and a cynical, man, once a rising star in Mexican cinema, who uses vicious humor as a shield against emotional intimacy. They are friends from childhood, witnessing each others’ various travails, including his career being derailed by a drunken car crash that cost the life of his then-partner. Their banter is witty, cutting, loving, and hurtful all at the same time: you know, like real people with deeply shared histories often are.

The plot is well executed, pulling together various strains of occultism, a Nazi fleeing Germany for Mexico and attempting to achieve immortality, and, above all, the power of film (specifically, yes, that shot on silver nitrate stock) to be a form of magic. I (of course) got a little concerned about the occult dimension, knowing a bit too much about the subject, but Moreno-Garcia does a nice job mixing historically accurate information on the often bizarre Nazi relationship with the occult with the needs of her characters and plot.

The parts that are supposed to be eerie and frightening are, and while you’re pretty sure the protagonist will pull it off in the end, it’s not at all clear how, or at what cost. I don’t think you can ask for much more than that. Sprinkle in some nuance around the economics and cultural role of Mexico City in relation to the USA, and it’s a decent recommendation, even if, for me, the ultimate resolution of the core relationship felt a little too pat.

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Reading Well: The Deep Sky by Yume Kitasei

Posted on November 25, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Yume Kitasei‘s 2023 novel, The Deep Sky, is a welcome addition to the “generation ship” genre, aimed at a YA audience (if the term “generation ship” is unfamiliar, it refers to stories set on spaceships designed for extraordinarily long–usually multi-generational–journeys, most often to new worlds).

The Deep Sky is engaging, thought-provoking, and, if you overlook some relatively obvious flaws in its underlying geopolitical premise, pretty much a delight. The protagonist is full of self-doubt, and struggling to understand why they were offered a spot on the ship in the first place (all of the inhabitants are female, as birthing the next generation en route to humanity’s new home is part of their mission).

The portrayal of mid-and-late-teen female friendship, both on the ship and on flashbacks to the training program back on Earth, is genuine, affecting, and powerful, and the coming-of-age nature of the narrative, while predictable at the widest perspective, is a competent, nicely paced whodunnit.

Recommended for YA readers, especially for those looking for ways into various forms of sci-fi and looking for an alternative to the historical boy/man-ness of the genre.

There are relationships here with Some Desperate Glory as entry points into a different take on sci-fi and with To Shape a Dragon’s Breath in terms of young, feminist (or, at least, proto-feminist) fiction.

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Reading Well: Fallen Gods trilogy by Hannah Kaner

Posted on November 14, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

I am a little jealous of people who will get to read Hannah Kaner‘s Fallen Gods Trilogy consecutively. The three volumes are Godkiller (2023), Sunbringer (2024), and Faithbreaker (2025).

Bottom line here, they’re very good.

The trilogy is expansive, centering on a handful of characters involved in, what else, saving the world, in this case from a power-hungry empire that has harnessed the power of a marauding god of fire. Within Kaner’s world, deities prosper from worship, always one of my favorite mechanics, but this has, in the relatively recent history of the world, gotten out of control, leading to the rise of a class of itinerant warriors known as “godkillers.” They’ve earned that sobriquet due to their successful involvement in a prior war aimed at reducing the power of a wide range of deities (most of this success comes from their mastering weapons coated in a particular alloy that is damaging to the gods). Additionally, the central kingdom–the one being invaded–has essentially outlawed/abandoned pretty much all official forms of worship, making the invading force all the more intimidating.

There’s a lot of detail in those sentences, reflecting the nuance of how Kaner creates and explores the world. She also does a good job of making the immediate concerns of her character small enough–they are, in their day-to-day, less focused on saving the world than on surviving their current circumstances or figuring out if so-and-so really likes them.

Our godkiller protagonist is a foul-mouthed, sassy, tough as nails woman who relies on custom prosthetics designed by her wheelchair-bound, mastersmith sister to function in place of her missing leg. Our two other protagonists are a love-tormented, gay, warrior-baker and a young girl who is … well … something unusual within the world. And her pet minor god, to whom she is tethered.

So, wide and deep representation, and a ton of creativity in finding ways to embed our lead characters in a wider context.

There’s a lot going on, which is part of what maintains interest and momentum through the three books. In general, though, it’s a romp, full of fast-moving adventure, characters you care about, and an underlying message around found family (and even occasional biological family) that is connective and even uplifting.

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Reading Well: The Priory of the Orange Tree and A Day of Fallen Night by Samantha Shannon

Posted on October 25, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

About the same time I finished Samantha Shannon‘s 2019 novel, The Priory of the Orange Tree, I decided to wait to publish things on Reading Well until series of books were complete (or, at least, as complete as current information allowed). As such, I have waited until now, having finished Shannon’s 2023 prequel, A Day of Fallen Night, to post a review of the two books.

Just when I think I understand how fantasy is marketed in the early 21st century, something surprises me. In this case, it’s that both of these novels were released as extremely hefty, single volumes. Clocking in at just shy of 900 pages, I would have expected each of them to be released as a duology at minimum, if not a trilogy.

These are fun reads, not terribly complicated, but certainly very, very deeply immersive. They are as much (explicitly queer-friendly) romance epics as fantasy epics, which will make them significantly more or less appealing to different readers. The world is nicely realized, if a mite predictable, and, in each novel, the handful of primary narrators are sufficiently separate, both in perspective and plot, to hold your interest throughout. The protagonists encompass a nice range of types–from the emerging adolescent to the height-of-her-powers leader to the wizened and mysterious elder, and many points in between. That helps separate Shannon’s work from the very popular “cohort’s journey,” which I enjoyed.

Both novels focus on a world in imminent danger, caught in an eternal conflict between humans and a particular strain of unimaginably destructive dragons. The world is (perhaps overly) neatly divided culturally and especially in the framing of the relationship between humans and dragons (in the East, dragons are worshipped and even ridden; in the west, they are feared and hunted). All of that is a little too pat, but it holds together.

Now comes the weird part: I don’t know which book I would recommend to start with. I enjoyed A Day of Fallen Night more, and it is the prequel. So I would probably start there. However, I wonder if knowing the plot of The Priory of the Orange Tree contributed to my increased enjoyment of the “second” novel. I think it’s just as likely a reflection of the author’s growth in skill and comfort: A Day of Fallen Night is more nuanced, more subtle, than Priory, and the world-building feels a little more connected, less rigidly constructed.

If your wrists can support the heft of the books, recommended.

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Reading Well: Lilith’s Brood by Octavia Butler

Posted on October 14, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

{ This is hilarious. I actually wrote about Lilith’s Brood way back in 2016, but hadn’t remembered that when I re-read them with a good friend recently. So, yeah. Here’s the original write up. It’s different, and I’m intrigued by how my voices has changed in these things over the last near-decade. Anyhow, since I had already written this, I figured I’d post it as well. }

I don’t have a ton to say about these books: they are absolute fundamental within the genre, brilliant treatises on potential alien contact, and deeply affecting.

Go. Read. Them.

Lilith’s Brood refers to the combined publication of a trio of novels by Octavia Butler, originally released 1 per year from 1987 to 1989: Dawn, Adulthood Rites, and Imago. Each are relatively short, more novellas than novels, making the single volume combination the way to go. The trilogy follows, across 3 generations (although that may not be quite the right term, given the alien physiology and reproductive patterns) of interactions between the remaining inhabitants of Earth and a deeply, fundamentally, often incomprehensibly alien race.

The opening 50ish pages of Dawn may be among the finest openings to an alternative fiction narrative ever written.

Go. Read. Them.

Butler’s conception of the aliens is the key to the books: they are totally different from us, even to the point of being immediately repulsive to humans, often deeply manipulative, and possessing an ethics that only partially intersect with humanity’s concerns. Butler not only confronts the notion that if we do encounter aliens, of course we’ll want to have sex with them, but makes that a central pillar of the relationship between the species. So, that may or may not make the book more or less intriguing to you.

There are issues with the books: the secondary human characters are a bit under developed, and the core emotional (and sexual) moral issues that permeate the narrative remain unanswered. The latter, of course, is a feature as much as a bug: it is rare that alternative fiction makes us think and question things, in addition to quickly turning pages late at night in a desire to finish the chapter.

The highest recommendation, especially for Dawn. If you like it, you’ll like the other 2, but you should read Dawn, for sure.

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Reading Well: Celine by Peter Heller

Posted on October 3, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

In my writeup of Peter Heller‘s The Last Ranger, I wrote

Heller’s gifts are in his descriptions of the natural world and in his explorations of alternate modes of contemporary masculinity, and both are on full display in The Last Ranger.

His 2017 novel, Celine, is mostly set among the National Parks of the Midwest, so the former is on full display. But the protagonist–a first for me in the four novels I’ve read by him (Dog Star was before Reading Well existed, The Painter was the first entry in the series, and my comments on The River are here)–is not a middle-aged man, wrestling with some fair bit of alienation, but rather a female senior citizen who occasionally needs oxygen for her emphysema.

She’s also a crack shot with any firearm she finds, and a registered PI, so there’s that. Still.

As in most of Heller’s work there are multiple things going on at once: here, an engaging, page-turner of a murder mystery sits alongside some wry and very sweet observations about aging and the possibilities of mature relationships, both romantic and familial, all set against Heller’s incomparable descriptions of nature and his clear love for the beauty of the American Midwest.

It feels like Heller could have developed an entire franchise around Celine and her adventures, but as far as I know he has refrained from doing so. I’d read more of her adventures, for sure.

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Listen/Here: Extra by Peter Evans

Posted on September 27, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

One of my favorite things musically is when someone I’ve never heard of blows me away: it reminds me of just how much effing music there is in the world, and how deep it goes. Sometimes these musicians are deep cuts, but more often, they are giants in their field that I’ve just missed.

Well, hello there, Peter Evans.

I was introduced to Evans by my favorite up and coming jazz trumpeter, and saw him perform a solo set live, which was the most incredible 25 minutes of melodic improvisation and continuous circle breathing I’ve seen. So I went out and got a bunch of his music, and the random number generator decided we would write about Extra, a trio release from 2024.

Petter Eldh, a Swedish avant-garde bassist, was known to me from a collaboration with Kaja Draksler; Jim Black, the drummer, was a new discovery.

I think Evans’ gift is to play in a very abstract form without ever losing touch with melody, and with the his ability to use his supernaturally pure tone and technique to help guide and ground the listener. The staccato rhythm of In See are a great example of this, and even in a track like Boom, which may be too unstructured for some, Evans’ melodic lines allows a path to be followed aurally from beginning to end.

Extra has three short (sub 3 minute) motifs (Nova, Fully Born, and The Lighthouse), of which Nova serves as the best showcase for Evans’ unmatched technique and tone. The Lighthouse, however, is notable: you wonder where Evans is until you realize the rhythmic bass puffs are actually produced on his horn.

There is a misstep on the album for me, but the less said about Movement 56, the better.

Overall, a very strong recommendation as an introduction to one of the leading contemporary trumpeters stretching out in a somewhat experimental trio setting.

Favorite Track: In See

Extra (2024).

Peter Evans: piccolo trumpet, flugelhorn & piano
Petter Eldh: bass & synthesizer
Jim Black: drums & electronics

Bandcamp

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Reading Well: Vengeance is Mine by Maria NDiaye

Posted on September 18, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Maria Ndiaye‘s 2023 novel Vengeance is Mine was recommended by a few best-of lists at the end of 2024, so I hopped on.

This is a pretty short review as, sad to say, it just never came together for me. The novel–translated from French, which always raises a question of fidelity–focuses on a female protagonist who is struggling to make sense of a traumatic episode from her childhood, an event pulled into the present when she is chosen as the legal representative in a horrific case involving (perhaps–she is never quite sure) the same family of that fateful afternoon of her youth.

And … that’s it, really.

There are some engaging long monologues that I think would work really well as fodder for an acting class, and I was very engaged with the protagonist, especially early on in the novel. But it never really came together for me. Can’t love everything you read.

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Reading Well: Tremor by Teju Cole

Posted on September 12, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

Almost a decade ago (!), I wrote about Teju Cole‘s 2012 novel, Open City.

Many of those same comments apply to Tremor, published in 2023. Cole’s ability to pay attention to characters and their emotional lives on the one hand and the world of ideas and intellectual musings on the other remains fantastic, and that interplay dominates much of Tremor.

Like Open City, Tremor is a novel of the diaspora, and its protagonist is likewise challenged by their identity as an African in the USA. Here, they are an artist: a photographer and a scholar, and a bit of a wanderer (these are, fwiw, these descriptors also apply to Cole himself). Also like Open City, while there is a plot–things do happen–the core of the book are the musings of the characters, the elegant and thoughtful short journeys into questions of history, of ethics, of contemporary politics. Perhaps this is a projection fueled by Cole’s own claim of Tremor being an attempt to capture the pre-pandemic world, but I did have a sense of foreboding reading it, a notion that there was some unknown doom lurking in the future for all involved.

There is an interlude towards there end where Cole breaks the ongoing narrative for a chapter containing a multitude of short narratives describing different people’s experiences of life in Lagos. It’s a sharp interruption, and may not work for some readers; however, I found it effective, communicating the diversity, complexity, and variety of experiences and perspectives that abound in his hometown. I think the purpose of this section is to intentionally decenter the narrative, to insist that each scene, each moment that Cole describes is merely from a particular perspective, representing, if you will, a particular snapshot with a particular point of view.

I enjoy Cole immensely, and feel drawn deeply into his musings and his characters. If novels of ideas are of interest, highly recommended.

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Reading Well: Absolution by Jeff Vandermeer

Posted on August 25, 2025 by Daniel (@MKNN)

I have previously written about Jeff Vandermeer‘s Southern Reach Trilogy, as well as his short-story collection, The Third Bear.

Like many of his fans, I figured we were done with the Southern Reach, but no: 2024 saw the publication of Absolution, which is mostly a prequel but also a bit of a sequel (that will make more sense to Vandermeer fans) to the trilogy.

It’s all here: the creepy, fungal dread that permeates the landscape; the paranoia that fuels the internal lives of the main characters; the pseudo-mystic revelations that may or may not have their basis in biological sciences.

There’s really not a lot else to say: if you know Vandermeer’s work and like it, this is required reading, and won’t disappoint; if you’re new to Vandermeer, start with the trilogy and you will very quickly–like within 50 pages very quickly–know if he is for you or not.

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