Nova (1968) by Samuel R. Delany. Shame on me for discovering this stunning classic only recently. A bunch of misfits and weirdos follow a futuristic Captain Ahab on a quest for revenge which is going to lead them through the galaxy and right into an exploding sun. Immensely self-aware characters ponder on the mythical qualities of their pursuit, making this short space opera feel both like a greek epic and a great American novel. Amazing.

Borne (2017) by Jeff VanderMeer. A tender biohorror masterpiece about love and loss and the struggles of maintaining a relationship when a childlike new party disturbs the balance. I'm in awe of how neatly the allegory for motherhood fits into the vivid scenery, never overshadowed by VanderMeer's outbursts of creativity that created the most memorable monsters. I liked Annihilation just fine, but this is the book that I'll come back to.

Never Say You Can't Survive (2021) by Charlie Jane Anders. Turns out, autobiographical writing advice from one of my favorite authors was what I needed to finally allow myself to pour my sorrow into text and strategically build a new coping mechanism. It even comes with small exercises. There are many books about becoming a better writer, but this one's also about getting better *through* writing and that's so important!

The Past is Red (2021) by Catherynne M. Valente. Voltaire's Candide is indeed a suitable point of comparison for this satirical novella and as a huge Leibniz fan I don't say this lightly. A hilariously optimistic rapport of the end times when the last humans live on an island of floating garbage. Narrated by Tetley, the most hated person on the island, it teaches a form of radical grattitude which I desperately needed in 2022.

Mexican Gothic (2020) by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. Few manage to still capture the essence of what makes gothic horror fun. Here, the genre's subversive core is laid bare. A decaying house, a creepy family obsessed with genetics and an outsider who tries to save someone from their clutches, all those classic elements have a lot to say about race, class and even colonialism, making this familiar story feel brand new.

She Who Became the Sun (2021) by Shelley Parker-Chan. In a genius twist this reimagines the rise of the Chinese emperor Hongwu as a genderbending epos about a girl who takes on her dead brother's identity. It goes dark places and in refusing to be the shining hero's tale people might expect gets all the more intriguing. It also does a deep dive into the performative aspects of masculinity, which I found absolutely amazing.

Light From Uncommon Stars (2021) by Ryka Aoki. This warm melange of science-fiction and fantasy with an avid interest in both cultural and gender identity feels absolutely unique. The dynamic between Katrina, a trans girl dreaming of a musical career, and her violin teacher who sells her students' souls to the devil, is thrilling and Aoki's use of food as a major theme creates an intimate love letter to the San Gabriel Valley.

Jade Legacy (2021) by Fonda Lee. The Green Bone Saga is a magical mafia epos set in the fictional Asian country of Kekon. It combines imaginative action scenes with engaging family feuds and a variety of memorable characters. The final volume, spanning decades of fateful decision-making and careful politics, left me in tears. Well-rounded and fully satisfying! Lee really stuck the landing with this one.

Truth of the Divine (2021) by Lindsay Ellis. I didn't find the famous video essayist's debut novel all too convincing, but the follow up is a real surprise: a tight, well-written narrative about first contact politics which also paints a very accurate picture of the way trauma and depression influence our relationships. Less gimmicky and way more mature, this bleak outlook on humanity left a deep impression.

Being Seen (2021) by Elsa Sjunneson. In her memoir aptly titled One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism the writer and media critic discusses her personal history as well as the portrayal of disability in popular culture, challenging misconceptions and harmful stereotypes. Vital lessons for ablebodied readers for sure, but it's also a call to action for disabled people, encouraging them to raise their voices and tell their stories.

Noor (2021) by Nnedi Okorafor. I don't feel this prime example of radical Africanfuturism did get the buzz it deserves. A cyborg on the run, an evil company and the question of who owns the desert: this story tackles the current exploitation of the African continent in a playful yet emphatic way no Dune adaptation could ever come close to, because it refuses to use allegories. We need more uncompromising fiction like this.

Nona the Ninth (2022) by Tamsyn Muir. So far, every entry in the Locked Tomb series came with a complete change in tone, so spending time with dorky easygoing Nona wasn't something I expected. This book doesn't focus on riddles just as much as its predecessors and kinda misses their clever enigmatic vibes, but it finally lets some side characters shine, which is extremely satisfying. Also, Muir's writing is just great.