If You Could Have One Chance... or Hundreds (The Space Between Worlds sci-fi REVIEW)

Imagine you, but on a different Earth… one perhaps not so very much changed, just not quite the same. Now, imagine you in a dozen such worlds. In a hundred. Or, in The Space Between Worlds (Micaiah Johnson’s dazzling debut), 382 different versions of you, on 382 different Earths. 

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In a not-so-distant, dystopian future, traveling within the multiverse is possible—not for the average Joe, mind you, being crazy-expensive—but doable. 

[Let’s back up for a sec, though, to break down “multiverse”: consider our universe, then assume that—since space is literally infinite—multiple universes essentially identical to ours probably exist within that vast expanse, including multiple earths populated by our doppelgängers… who may—or may not—behave as we do, given the vagaries of human decision-making, behavior, and whatnot. Yeah?]

Anyway, back to traversing the multiverse. For the few people allowed to do so, it’s a job: go to whatever Earth the assignment calls for, download a record of whatever has transpired since the last visit, note any major changes, then hightail it back to the travel pod to be whooshed home again.

The catch? Travel is only possible to other ‘verses where the other “you” has already died; if anyone attempts—whether accidentally (monumental oops), or on purpose (heaven forbid)—to travel where their counterpart still exists, one of the two WILL. DIE. (Space, it seems, really frowns on two versions of anything occupying the same place at the same time.)

That brings us to our hero, Cara. After a hardscrabble upbringing in a dirt-poor town on the outskirts of wealthy Wiley City, Cara was recruited by the prestigious Eldridge Institute to join their team of travelers. Why? Because it turns out more versions of Cara are dead on those 382 other Earths than any other person… rendering her able to travel more places than anyone else. So, while she’ll never “fit in” among the natives of the elite Wiley City—being the dark-skinned, badass, hard-drinking, death-metal-meets-goth traveler that she is (and thus nothing like the pale, proper, white-clothed, elitists inhabiting said city)—she gets to enjoy a certain freedom (and definitely, a much nicer place to live and better food to eat) by dint of her unique position, to the point that she’s working toward one day acquiring permanent citizenship there.

It all seems within her grasp… until the trip that changes everything. Visiting an Earth for the first time—one in which that version of her has only just recently died—she uncovers a very big secret… one that reaches through all the planes of space, and threatens to rip the multiverse apart. And, lucky Cara, she’s also the only one who might be able to stop that from happening.  

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I’m just gonna put this out there: The Space Between Worlds is unequivocally going to tie for my favorite-book-of-2020. Really, this one is THAT. GOOD.

First, it’s a GREAT yarn, full of fantastic world-building, a small cast of genuinely engaging characters, and a compelling story that never drags. And, if that was all it were, it’d be a fine sci-fi story.

That’s really only sort of scratching the surface, though, because The Space Between Worlds also seamlessly incorporates SO MANY aspects of humanity, and confronts societal injustices head on; race relations, sexual orientation, gender identity, poverty, elitism, politics, megalomania, religion, family, the powers (and faces) of love (and the list goes on)… all are wound inextricably through every page, and every breath. 

The Space Between Worlds—much like its hero, Cara—doesn’t pull its punches… in the very best way possible. This is sci-fi with a statement to make, and I loved every single bit of it. I think you will, too.

~GlamKitty

 

(This is an easy recommendation for sci-fi, urban fantasy, dystopian, and psychological thriller fans.)

The Road to Hell is Paved with Atonements (Cry Baby thriller REVIEW)

It could be a scene from anywhere… a couple of young mothers—good friends—taking their kids to play in a neighborhood park. The women kick back on a bench in the shade to chat, while their little boys climb on the jungle gym, swoosh down the slides, and burn off excess energy as only a couple of active seven-year-olds can. 

When one of the women heads off to the restrooms, the other decides to sneak a quick cigarette—she’s been trying to quit, but isn’t there, yet—which requires rooting around in the depths of her handbag for the elusive lighter. It’s only once she’s finally lit up and taken that first drag, that she notices the children are nowhere in sight… but then she hears them, faintly, in the woods bordering the park on one side, and relaxes; they’ll soon tire of the trees and come tearing across the playground again. 

The first mom returns, upset enough to find her friend smoking… but far more so when she doesn’t see the boys. Waving off the other’s explanations, she runs over to the woods, shouting for them. After a couple of moments, a rustling among the fallen leaves signals the boys are on their way back. Only one boy—bawling his head off—emerges from the trees, though… and that boy isn’t her son.

It could be a crime from anywhere… but this time, it’s in London, in 1996, and it’s down to a troubled young detective—DS Tom Thorne—already weighted down with personal problems aplenty, to bring the missing lad home, in Mark Billingham’s newest, Cry Baby.

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We’ve seen a lot of Tom Thorne over the years (beginning with the  superb Sleepyhead in 2001), but we’ve never seen this exact Tom… just thirty-five years old, in the middle of a very messy divorce, and haunted by an old case in which his own error in judgment played a part in the deaths of three little girls. This Tom isn’t as sure of himself, of his co-workers, of his job, or of life, in general… but he is sure of one thing: that he’ll do anything to solve this case.

 

Will history repeat itself, though, or will Tom find a way to make up for a past mistake… that is the question.

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As a long-time reader of Billingham’s Thorne series, it was an unexpected pleasure to travel back in time in Cry Baby, and observe Tom as—not a newbie, exactly, but certainly as a man in over his head, just trying not to crack from the pressures pounding at him from all sides. (His first meeting and subsequent getting-to-know-you interactions with pathologist pal Phil Hendricks are a real treat.)

In typical Billingham style, all of the major (and some of the minor) players are given enough space to breathe and feel alive to us, rather than merely serving as names on a page to whom stuff happens. 

My only complaint, to be honest, is the sheer amount of time devoted to soccer, which, maybe if you’re a big soccer fan… and you rabidly followed the sport in 1996 (or are a soccer-stats nerd)… would be of interest to you? (Eventually, I had to just skim through all those paragraphs and pages discussing scores and players and plays and rivalries and… yeah. Meh.)

Overall, though, this is Billingham—and Thorne, et al—in fine form, and an easy recommendation for all fans of the series.

~GlamKitty

Secrets in the Snow (The Darkest Evening mystery REVIEW)

The meandering, old roads of rural Northumberland, in the dark of a frigid winter’s night, with the season’s first blizzard raging away, as a cantankerous older woman grips the wheel of her ancient Land Rover, determined to make it home rather than giving in and finding a room somewhere.

But, as fate would have it, she misses her turnoff in the whiteout her truck’s headlamps fail to penetrate, and ends up creeping down an unfamiliar road… nearly running into another vehicle, that has partially slid off the slippery, narrow lane. Grumbling, the woman hauls herself out of the Rover and makes her way to other car, where she finds the driver’s door wide open, but no driver in sight. One passenger, however, remains: a toddler, strapped into a baby seat, all alone in the frigid cold and dark.

As put out as she might feel, though, the woman is nonetheless a Detective Inspector, and she isn’t about to let a child freeze to death… or its missing parent go unfound. 

So begins Ann Cleeves’ latest entry in the long-running Vera Stanhope series, The Darkest Evening.

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Things get a little more complicated once Vera takes the baby and drives to the nearest house… because the nearest house turns out to be a crumbling mansion that—decades ago—she knew rather well: Brockburn, the once-grand ancestral home where her father grew up, and to which he later—as the black sheep of the family—dragged his only daughter when he wanted to bum money off his elder brother. (Needless to say, there’s no love lost between the remaining Stanhopes at Brockburn—Vera’s haughty, now-widowed aunt and the put-upon daughter, Vera’s cousin—and prickly, plodding Vera, the poor relation.) With a pre-holiday fete underway, the dowdy detective and her little mystery guest are unwanted disruptions to the household, at best.

But that’s only the beginning, once the body of a young woman, brutally murdered, is discovered on the edge of Brockburn land, out in the drifting snow… putting a swift end to all festivities, and to peace in the small, nearby farming community for the foreseeable future. Because, as anyone familiar with Vera knows, once she gets her hooks into a case, she bulls her way through it until she has all of the answers she needs.

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Despite my own familiarity with Vera, from the self-titled TV show, The Darkest Evening was actually my first time encountering her in book form, and it was great fun. (So perfectly does actress Brenda Blethyn embody the character, that I heard her voice in my head every time book-Vera spoke, and pictured her squat, stocky presence tramping around in the village and the woods, throughout.)

Cleeves’ writing is clean and compelling; her descriptions colorful, her characterizations vivid, and her depiction of life in a rural area feels true. Throw in a complicated domestic situation (or three), a foreboding sense of history, and a multi-layered mystery, and you’ve got a nice little escape on your hands. 

Mystery fans—and anyone who appreciates a curmudgeonly, clever female detective as a delightfully-atypical protagonist—should definitely find The Darkest Evening a worthy diversion. :)
~GlamKitty 

[I received an advance copy of The Darkest Evening for review purposes; the book is set for release 8 September 2020.]

Familia, Amigos, Amor... y Dinero, Mucho Dinero (Money Heist TV show REVIEW)

After holding off for the longest time, I finally decided to plunge into (the ridiculously-named) Money Heist, last month. It’s not for wimps, time-wise—it took me the better part of July to stream, finishing late on the first night of August (although, with stay-at-home orders during the ongoing worldwide pandemic, time is something most of us have a hella lot more of, anyway)—but What. A. Ride.

La Casa de Papel (the Spanish show’s actual name, which is far more elegant than the Americanized title) tells the story of a grand heist--conceived and orchestrated by a quiet genius called the "Profesor", and carried out by his hand-chosen band of merry men and women (each given the name of a city rather than using their own names to maintain some anonymity and separation... in theory). In reality, though, that’s only part of the story; at its heart, this is a grand romance… or a series of them, actually. (And those romances? They run the gamut: intellectual, nerdy love; wild-child passions; same-sex; opposites attracting; unrequited; purely platonic; and, various combinations of the above.)

But back to the thieving… it’s as compelling and as cleverly-constructed a plan as you’ll find anywhere, with twists and turns that Do. Not Stop. (Are there some holes, and some of those “OMG, don’t do it, please don’t do that, you idiot… dammit, whyyyyyyyy did you do THAT?!?” moments? Definitely. But then I look around IRL and think, “Okaaaay, being stupid clearly happens, so… yeah, carry on,” and those little hiccups don't really matter.)

Money Heist is a lot more character-driven that I was expecting, and, with four seasons (so far), there’s plenty of time and space for the writers to do some deep dives into those characters… which becomes more and more important as the show progresses, in helping us to understand motivations and in making us care what happens. (By the end of S04? The emotional payoffs from those character studies are HUGE… and wrenching.) 

There's also plenty to look at in Money Heist, from shots of urban Madrid to the beautiful landscape of rural Spain, as well as a very appealing (but believably-so) cast, and a couple of gorgeous buildings, in which much of the action takes place. 

This show won’t be for everyone; nothing is. There’s a good reason this has become a huge international success, though, and if you dig a smart heist caper, then the slick, stylish Money Heist is one über-cool ticket to some great escapism… and don’t we all need more of THAT, right now?
~GlamKitty