Cross-posted on Readerling
I swear by all that is holy that I'm going to figure out how to punch the Goodreads search engine right in the freaking neck. Twice. Hard.
Why, you ask? (Or maybe you don't, but uncaring bystanders are next on my list when my blood is up.)
Let me explain.
It all started a couple years ago when my husband dragged me to Bubonicon so we could see his boyfriend and hang out with other nerds. Being a somewhat reticent girl - don't let my shouting online fool you; I am naturally a homebody and an introvert - I was maybe not all that jazzed about this in the abstract. But it was pretty much like coming home, because nerds (or more importantly, bookish, writerly nerds) are my people. One of those people I met was Sarah, and she is absolutely one of my favorites.
So, it was with some trepidation I picked up her novella, because I know what a horrible bitch I am in reviews sometimes. And she knows that too, which makes this whole process a little awkward. Mostly I just don't write reviews for friends' books that I dislike - truth is beauty and all that, but we all gotta live on this globe, and friends are better than any critique. But - phew! - I honestly liked this.
Miyako is a samurai-daughter in an alt-Japan, c. 1915. My Japanese history is a little furry, but it seems that the reforms instituted in the Meiji Restoration never happened, and samurai continued on into the run-up to the first world war, but spreading out to the gentry and merchant classes in a way your more daimyo types wouldn't have particularly liked. Miyako is one of these: trained into a system of honor and warfare, but not exactly comfortable there because of her class and gender. This Japan, not unlike the real 1915 Japan, is isolated from Western technology, but worried about the war brewing. She is sent on a mission into one of the semi-magical portals managed by the military to scavenge technology from whatever she finds on the other side.
She walks through the glowing door into a world of scorched air and bandits, a dome city and automata. Which, oorah. This is deeply fun stuff, the kind of play through harsh, alien environments by competent but still uncomfortable girls that turns my crank as a reader. Miyako blusters her way through an environment alien to her sensibility, managing to keep from goggling at cars and trains and showers, but just barely. I want to ride on one of those
she thinks, again, and again, about all the wonders that this more modern, but still alternate Japanese city provides. Which is why I love science fiction, when you get down to it: the barely held-down freak out about all the very cool things we can imagine and then walk through, as readers. Miyako supplies wonder to even the terrible things in the harsh world she ends up in.
But here's my problem: two alternate history Japans are a lot of alternate history Japans to manage in a novella. So I did some googling, and it turns out that [b:Unforeseen: Journey Through Rust and Ruin|16135336|Unforeseen Journey Through Rust and Ruin|Sarah Bartsch|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1352320077s/16135336.jpg|21963227] is one of a number of shared world novel/las, which start with [b:Gateway to Rust & Ruin|15996250|Gateway to Rust & Ruin (Empires of Steam and Rust)|Robert E. Vardeman|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1347096166s/15996250.jpg|21755484]. From the Empires of Steam and Rust
It is 1915, but not the one you know.
In Europe, the old empires stand on the brink of war, and war zeppelins darken the skies. In the East, China has spread its influence as far as the South American Coast, and may soon come into conflict with America, which has annexed Mexico, and is looking further south. But the plans of the great powers may all soon come to naught, for something new has come into the world.
On every continent, in every nation, holes have appeared, in the sky, in the ground, in the water, that seem to lead to another world. Some are no more than pin-pricks in reality. Some could swallow a battleship whole. Some seem to provide an instant conduit from place to place. A man entering one in Zurich might well come out another in the wilds of the Canadian Rockies an instant later. Others have no exit, and those who enter them are never seen again.
All are leaking.
Some emit strange gasses. Others birth weird animals and insects. Still others alter the environment around them in subtle, unsettling ways, and may eventually change the whole world.
Which, cool. I'm all in. I find the whole idea of shared world writing - where different authors bring their craft to a world with specific parameters - totally worthy. It's such a friendly, personable way of writing fiction; a call and response between people who are often congenital introverts. But I would have really appreciated this introduction to the Steam & Rust world when I began reading Sarah's story as some sort of preface or introduction. I am absolutely willing to sort all this stuff out on my own as a reader, and I did, but I admit my default is laziness.
So, you're welcome, Steam & Rust readers. I went in and tried to make an Empires of Steam and Rust
series on Goodreads, so you could see in in one place all of the shared world novel/las, but I ran into the absolute freaking terror of the Goodreads search function. Even though I was able to add three of the fictions, for some reasons Goodreads couldn't cough up Revolution of Air and Rust
even though I can find the damn novella on a google search and it looks like Summers even did a godamn Goodreads giveaway. Double-you the actual fuck here? Why can't Goodreads even see
this novel? Rarrrrrrrrr, and then the throat punch.
Miyako makes her way through her adventure in her own alternate history with wit and some badass sword skills, learning the way the young often do that her world is more complex and difficult than she thought. Here's my next criticism, and it's the best one: I want more about her. Having established not one alt-Japan but two, and a set of characters and even a robot I admire, I would kill to see how this all plays out and what happens next. More, please, Sarah. <3<br/>