My review is in the November December issue of Analog Magazine, available on line now and in the print edition this month. Here is the link:
https://www.analogsf.com/current-issue/the-reference-library/

This was a well-done sci-fi, thriller novella! There's so many different things here intersecting — late-stage capitalism, the effect of that on the integrity of human relationships, a nice queer romance with trans women rep, corporate espionage and ethical conundrums, a vaguely dystopian universe where every interaction seems to have an underlying caginess and care to it that makes you fear for the human race in general, which is where the nice queer romance comes in to sweeten the bitter taste. It reads very efficient, and I felt deeply compelled to keep turning the page until I got to the end. Definitely recommend this fast-paced, connective, curious novella!

I kind of don't know how to talk about this book because, um, the author already extensively analysed her own work in an afterword that I probably shouldn't have read. But, like, it was there so I assumed it was important. I mean, in some respects I do kind of admire Wasserstein for being able to talk so academically and coherently about her own work (because I can barely stammer two words together about mine)but, at the same time, it's hard to know what you're supposed to do as a reader when the author seems to have already filled both roles. And please don't take this as me trying to dictate what other authors should or should not do--for all I know, Wasserstein was told by her publisher to fill some page count because novellas are difficult to place so she felt awkwardly compelled to write an essay about herself--and it's not that I'm not interested in what authors have to say about their work but maybe not *in* the work itself? I don't know. I think if I'd read this as part of an interview or a blog post (not that we have blogs any more) I'd have been really appreciative. It's just finishing a book and then being told directly by the author what it's about, what it means, and what you're supposed to think about it is ... well ... it's a lot. Also I don't think it's the author's job to explain what cisgender is.

To me, the fact she has to, is sort of illustrative of where either the publisher or maybe the author were with this story. Taking a moment in a longish afterword about literalised metaphors, trans identity, and why i**t's sometimes okay to fuck your clone** it assumes a dynamic between author and reader where the author is presumed inherently obscure and other relative to the reader, and I honestly feel that does disservice to both author and reader. It suggests almost a lack of faith maybe, from someone involved in the production of this book, and that makes me sad. Like it was taken as read, somewhere down the line, that TFGTFH wouldn't, or couldn't, find its own audience--I'm not even talking here about an an audience solely comprised of trans folk, but an audience who would be open to meeting the book (and the author) where they were instead of needing the book to be made safe and explicable to them. I guess where I'm going with this is that I feel books should be allowed to speak to the people they're for more than they should be forced to accommodate the people they're not; and this is probably just me but I feel if you're reading a book about a transfemme PI solving a murder in a technoir Dystopia you can probably also Google the word 'cisgender' if you need to.

Anyway, I've already spent two paragraphs on the afterword and said nothing about the story itself. Which is complicated because I actually loved the book. I just wish I'd been allowed to do so on my own terms. These Fragile Graces This Fugitive Heart is set in a post-climate change Kansas where society has almost wholly broken down. Much of the city is abandoned, the government has given up, law enforcement is equally not about it, the gap between the wealth and poor has widened impossibly, oh and corporations run everything because it's that kind of Dystopia. Which is to say, plausible. Our heroine, Dora, is a PI, very much in the trad noir sense. She's competent, cynical, and thoroughly closed down, although that emotional distance is increasingly challenged as she finds herself investigating what happened to her ex-girlfriend, who died of an assumed drug overdose in the anarchist commune where she and Dora used to live together.

What follows is brisk and gripping--a whistlestop tour, if you will, through a damaged world and Dora's damaged psyche. The author references her own wariness around literalising metaphors in the afterword, but--for what it's worth--I felt it really worked here. TFGTFH functions both as a decent technoir mystery and as a means to explore and reflect upon its flawed, fascinating protagonist. Especially when, y'know, clones of her start trying to kill her. I'm trying to tread lightly around spoilers (at least for now) because there's a lot of potential depth contained within the relatively sparse page count, and a thematic richness to the exploration of identity and trans identity particularly that is well-worth experiencing on its own terms.

I also really loved the atmosphere and the sense of place ("On that side of the highway, the only light came from up the hill and reflected off the low clouds, so buildings and people became gray ghosts in the night") and the strong noir vibes I was getting from the narrative voice, which is as jaded and spare as any Hammett protagonist, telling you just as much as you need to know, but barely. I think there's even a sardonic nod to Neuromancer tucked in here:

"The sky was the color of corrupted memory"

In some ways, however, the strengths of the book are also maybe its weakness. Or maybe I'm the weakness, because I always seem to end up saying this about most of the shorter works I read. But, as ever, I really feel this story could have benefited from sticking around a bit longer. It's got an intriguing cast, from the various members of Dora's old commune, to her clones (well, one clone in particular), to "Smith" the corporate agent she's briefly obliged to work with, and it would have been nice to get to know these characters better. Dora's past with the commune is one of the emotional centres of the story and, while we do learn what ultimately went wrong there, I would have liked to feel those conflicted emotions too, not just understand them as part of Dora. Although I do also recognise that deep access to the protagonist's emotional interior is fairly antithetical to Hammett's style of noir.

Dora's memory implant is another element of the story that felt, to me, under-used. Essentially she has an implant that allows her perfect recall for good and ill, and I was so primed to get some full on Blade Runner / Thane from Mass Effect type stuff here, except I just didn't. It just seemed like such a missed opportunity - like a PI with perfect recall, please, give me more of this. And even assuming the author was using the mystery primarily as a means to explore, and reflect upon, character the whole memory implant thing could still have been used to give the reader greater access to Dora's past with the commune.

I know I talk about this a lot and then to fail to follow up with it, but I really do want to work with the text in front of me, not lament some version of it that exists only in my head. So I guess what I'm driving at when I'm drawing attention to all the ways, from my perspective, TFGTFH could have been expanded upon, I'm not necessarily trying to claim that it *should* have been, only that it *could* have been. Not because there's anything wrong with the story as it stands--while it's a little compressed at times, it reaches a genuinely satisfying conclusion--but because there was such a lot here that held my interest and made me want more. I wanted more of Dora's past, I wanted more of the wider cast, I wanted more of the world, I wanted more of Dora herself and more of Dora doing, like, PI shit because I'm into that.

Basically, TFGTFH is a sharp, complicated, endlessly interesting aperitif of a novella. It's a fantastic tease for the author's skill, vision and ambition. But, and from a certain point of view this is almost a positive, or, indeed, perhaps the whole point, it left me kinda hungry.

In short: yes, liked it a lot, strongly recommend. If you like Dystopias, damaged women, Hammett, & philosophical questions about identity this is for you.

I'm now going to spoil a major plot point so eject now if that's a problem for you.

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As mentioned in the review, part of the plot involves Dora being pursued by clones of herself. One of these clones--who later comes to call themself Theo--she manages to befriend. Now, Theo was a super interesting part of the book to me, just as an individual character in their own right, as a reflection of Dora, and as a way to ask questions about the nature of identity and trans identity especially, since all of Dora's clones present initially as a non-transitioned version of her. There's reasons for this I won't go into (too much spoiler) and, as you can tell by the pronouns I'm using here, by the end of the book Theo has chosen to use they/them pronouns. I was absolutely entranced by Theo's journey into selfhood -- given Dora's trauma and damage, she's not the most emotionally forthcoming character, so having Theo retain their kindness and hopefulness when everything else fucked is incredibly moving and incredibly painful at the same time (since could those qualities also have existed in Dora had she not lived the life she has).

But, anyway, as part of this arc, Theo at one point sleeps with Dora. Now, the TFGTFH does not shy away from questions around this - but, personally, while I did not see it coming (so to speak) I also think the book makes a strong case that Theo does consent to it and is capable of consenting to it. And, you know, I'm a romance reader so I'm always going to see sex as, to some degree, doing emosh and metaphorical shit. In this case, Dora's relationship with Theo (weird as it may be to some people) allows to her to reach some kind of peace with her own identity and her own choices. Essentially she can *give* Theo the agency she had to fight for, the freedom she could only obtain through loss. That's quite a gift to be able to share with a version of yourself.

That's my take anyway. Your mileage may very well vary and it feels kind of right to me this is a mileage-varying kind of subject. Except this brings me back to the dreaded afterword, where the author kind of goes out of her way to defend the scene as a necessary creative and ethical choice. And that ended up sort of making me feel more uncertain then the actual clone-fucking itself. Like, the text should always be answerable to itself--and, for me, it was. But I also think it's okay if, for you, it wasn't.

notes—mid-read, fairly early on:
> Interesting writing style: very aggressive, terse, but also very similar to how thoughts are formulated inside of my head. There are also occasional sudden blasts of overly flowery language that doesn't really fit.

There's something that I simply didn't like about this novella and so I've put off writing even a micro review of it. It's the classic case of a story too intricate for how thin the book actually is. It felt claustrophobic. I enjoyed a couple of the characters and the gritty cyberpunk world had a few interesting elements I'd never come across before but this one still ended up solidly placed in the "just okay" pile.

*Thank you to NetGalley for providing me an ARC of this book.*

I really didn't expect to enjoy this one as much as I did. But it was definitely an interesting read, and I was intrigued all the way through.

Content Warning: Transphobia, Deadnaming, Substance Abuse/Addiction,

Wasserstein’s novella was a quick read, not only due to its length but also due to how gripping it is. I couldn’t put it down once I stated reading. I loved the cyber-noir setting and how the plot prioritized the usually underrepresented populations (e.g., LGBTQ+, racial and economic minorities) in these settings. There was enough world building to give me the vibe without being distracting and to feel how the setting impacted the story. The mystery and action were well-paced, and I wanted to keep reading to find out the ending.

Many reviews, including mine, are going to mention the one sex scene in the novella. For those sex averse, it is not graphic. For those concerned about consent, the consent is explicitly given. No, the problem (for me) was that it just felt like it came out-of-nowhere and disrupted the plot 60% of the way in for, in my eyes, no good narrative reason.

It's not a deal breaker for me, but I mention it (as others have) because even the author felt the need to address that specific scene and explain it more thoroughly in her author’s note. Without giving too many spoilers, I will only comment that, as an aroace, the core idea that human connection must be sexual was disheartening. However, I respect Wasserstein’s creative process and did feel that reading the author’s note helped me better understand the scene and how it fit with some of the overarching themes of the novella.

Overall, though, I highly recommend this fact-paced and engaging novella.

Very interesting story taking place in a post-apocalyptic USA (Kansas City specifically), with an interesting take on society, how trans people would survive, heck, how anyone not super rich would survive. It’s actually a murder mystery that sort of falls into the MC’s lap. The characters are all very interesting and distinct. For such a short book, a quick read this one is very interesting.

There are some things I wish Wasserstein had fleshed out just a bit, but only until she mentioned inner lives of the characters that we hadn’t really been privy to much.

Thanks to Netgalley, Tachyon and Izzy Wasserstein for providing this ARC

I wanted to read These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart because I loved the title so much. Dora is trans. I haven’t read many books with trans characters. I liked Dora a lot. She’s determined to find out what happened to Kay, even when people make it clear they don’t want her to investigate she refuses to back down, dragging up the past and revisiting old memories she thought were long buried. This is a short book but never felt like a short read if you know what I mean. I was gripped from start to finish. I had a good time reading this book and would recommend it.

Sometimes we get stuck in a loop, too stubborn for our own good. Sometimes we have good reason to be stubborn. I was thinking a lot about trauma as I read These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart, by Izzy Wasserstein. This is a novella that knows exactly what it’s about and does exactly what it’s meant to do. Although it didn’t end up wowing me, I still thoroughly enjoyed its premise and execution. I received an eARC in exchange for a review.

If Dora knows one thing, it’s op sec. She left a commune over a disagreement about security: as anarchists, they wanted their commune to be as open as possible, whereas Dora believed more stringent checks and balances were required to keep out people who might have nefarious, ulterior motives. When she is called back to the commune to investigate the murder of her ex-girlfriend, Kay, Dora’s worst fears seem to have been proved well-founded. Her investigation will take her into neighbourhoods even more destitute than the one where the commune crouches and pit her against enemies who wear her face from before her transition.

Much of my criticism of These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart might be waved away by simply saying, “It’s a novella, Kara.” The other characters are paper thin. The villain is predictable, and his overarching motives are shrouded in convenient shorthands. The setting is something ripped straight out of Verhoven, Robocop tinted for modern storytelling. These criticisms levelled at a novel-length work might stick. Applied to a novella, however, they actually become strengths. Because this is not really a mystery.

No, this is a story about identity. The brilliance of this story lies in how Dora deals with one of her clones, whose life she spares.

Here come the spoilers.

Dora deals with her rescued clone’s emergence into individuality quite gracefully. I appreciate how much she respects Theo’s agency, to the point that she carefully avoids using pronouns until Theo, at the very end, settles on they/them. This is a potent reminder of the fluidity of gender: Theo might be genetically identical to Dora, but their experiences and memories are distinct. I suppose that should mitigate my discomfort over the idea of Theo and Dora having sex … still.

I appreciate that Wasserstein acknowledges in the afterword that this development is hella weird, that she simply couldn’t find a way to tell the story without it happening because Theo insisted. The consent thing isn’t as much an issue for me—I understand Theo’s perspective there—but … yeah … hmm. As an asexual and sex-averse person, I’ve never much thought about sex with a partner—would partnered sex with myself be … better? Even if that self is me through a funhouse mirror, as Dora describes her pre-transition clones? See, this ese are the important questions science fiction is here to ask!

Gonzo sexuality subplots aside, Dora and Theo’s nascent friendship is the heart of this story. The way that Theo goes from enemy to lover to friend is very endearing. Set against a backdrop of post-apocalyptic, capitalist purgatory, these connections become all the more significant. Dora, now that she has left the commune, is very alone and lonely. Although her being alone hasn’t changed by the end of the story, I think her loneliness has started to unravel. She starts to see that in order to protect, one has to have something worth protecting.

These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart is as cute as a semi-noir, grim dystopian science-fiction novella can be. Wasserstein effectively pulls from established tropes, particularly around cloning, to tell a story of choosing found family over blood and staying true to one’s ideals while still learning to bend and grow. It’s worth an afternoon of your time.

(Content warnings: murder, transphobia, violence, gun violence, moderate sexual content, drug use)

I heard "trans" "technothriller" and "clones" and immediately knew I was in for a fun ride <3

I really enjoyed the iconic noir tone and absolutely fell in love with Dora - look, give me a character with very little regard for her own life to a suicidal degree who'll fight tooth and nail for her friends, and I'm SOLD.
Where the story suffers is its brevity, honestly - I do love a fast-paced thriller, but the shortness of the book left frustratingly little space for worldbuilding, atmosphere and character development (especially glaring in Theo's case). I think the concept behind the story is phenomenal, and as a huge fan of clone narratives (and a nonbinary person) it was exciting seeing it through a trans lens, but even so I was left wanting more, and not in a good way. I would've liked to see it delve deeper into the themes of personhood and autonomy, the ethical implications, and all the complicated feelings Dora and Theo have about it.

Overall, very cool idea with lots of potential, but MAN it should've been a full novel 😭

(Thanks to Netgalley and Tachyon Publications for the ARC!)

These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart by Izzy Wasserstein is a novella that was marketed as a noir/technothriller with a trans protagonist, by a trans author, all of which are right up my alley. I definitely got the noir vibes, even though it was quite subtle but still there, and the rest of the promises were delivered too.

The setting is a post-apocalyptic urban wasteland, more accurately Kansas City, after some cataclysmic events destroyed most of the comforts we're familiar with and it barely functions as a city anymore. There's not much worldbuilding though, we never get the full picture of how this apocalypse came to be and it's a bit generic, but climate catastrophe, war, disease, and nuclear weapons are all mentioned briefly.

My main impression was that this story totally reads like a game! I can already see it in my mind's eye, a point-and-click adventure game with dark, moody pixel art. I love it when books remind me of games so this is certainly a plus. It also speaks to how atmospheric TFGTFH is, by being able to conjure such a distinct image in me.

There are also strong anti-capitalist, and anarchist undertones which I think will sit well with the target audience of this book. In good cyberpunk tradition, there are also evil megacorporations at work.

My only complaint I guess is that I wish it was a full-length novel. I liked the story, the conclusion, and the style, but I wish there was more time to flesh out the characters and the plot, to make it simmer longer. But I still wholeheartedly recommend it if any of this sounds appealing to you.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher Tachyon Publications for the e-ARC of the book in exchange for my honest review! 💜

This novella speaks my language: queer, noir, cyberthriller. This combination of genre keywords is like magic for my mind and soul. I’m always up for the latter two (see Harkaway’s Titanium Noir!), but add in queer and I’m soaring.

This is an engrossing and intriguing novella about a trans woman who sets out to investigate the murder of her former lover who was still living at the anarchist commune that she herself left in a fit of grief and pique some time ago. It explores themes of identity, memory, grief, belonging, nihilism, control, security, friendship, ethics versus morals, creating and maintaining safe spaces, and self-discovery.

I think reading the afterword for this novella is very important. I don’t always read the afterword in a book, but sometimes it’s nice to read where an author’s head was at when you have questions about why they might have written something a certain way (even if you have your own theories, which is fine). When some authors write, characters take on minds of their own and start to make choices the author didn’t think they’d make when they started writing. Reading the afterword for this book helped me understand where Wasserstein was coming from in her writing, even with my own theories floating inside my head.

This was a great read and I highly recommend it. Since this is a trans sci-fi and does involve trauma and some hate speech I suggest you look up CW/TWs online if you need them.

I was provided a copy of this title by NetGalley and the author. All thoughts, opinions, views, and ideas expressed herein are mine and mine alone. Thank you.

File Under: LGBTQ Fiction/Mystery/Noir/Novella/OwnVoices/Science Fiction

My favorite thing about this book was the hopeful sense of community despite the Dystopian Horrors, while also making space for the kinds of in-group bickering that can result from too many idealistic people in one space.

Set in a dystopian future cyberpunk Kansas City, Dora reenters the world of her old commune to solve the murder of her ex-girlfriend. It includes corporate intrigue, bad science (as in, science used for world domination purposes), and complex characters which would normally be a recipe for a home run as far as my book tastes go, but I'm actually really conflicted.

This book starts fast and ends faster and in that, I'm disappointed. The story was comprehensive, the plot moved, the characters were well-defined but I wanted MORE; how are the mega-corps affecting people where Dora lives now? Who are her neighbors and what do they think of her security measures? What happened to her mom and how does she feel about Dora's dad's megalomania (and transphobia)?!??

Wasserstein is, in my opinion, a very good author (and has some short story anthologies that I am definitely going to check out), able to build an immersive world and write compelling characters in less than 200 pages, and I can't wait to see what she does with a longer book.

Imgur link goes to Instagram graphic scheduled for March 12th
Blog Post goes live March 15th
To be discussed in March Wrap-up Pt 1 on Youtube

**TL;DR**: Some weird choices were made here, but I didn't dislike my time. I would definitely read more from the author.

These Fragile Graces, This Fugitive Heart is a tightly packed murder mystery novella about a woman solving the murder of her ex within the anarchist commune she used to call home. It’s been years since Dora left the commune but a friend brings her back to view the body of her former lover. She quickly notices it’s more the sight of a murder than the sight of an overdose (as it’s stagged to look) and she takes off to figure out what happened.

The story is dark, and noir in vibes and style. Dora is a exactly what you’d expect in that. She’s weirdly capable, supposedly an expert in security systems though we’re told this more than shown it. Additionally she’s hunted by clones as she proceeds in her investigation and that leads her to fighting, and well which seems to fight the type. She wouldn’t be someone I’d enjoy having tea with but she kept the story moving and at times showed real introspection and interesting thoughts.

The biggest issue I had with the book, and you’ll find it if you search enough reviews, is the romantic choice in the story. It was… bold. Uncomfortable and definitely not one I support, but bold. Besides that it was a bit on the predictable side and I wish we’d had a bit more nuance than what we got. It was very clear with it’s statements and used very standard story features to say those things.

It’ll definitely work for some but not if you’re opposed to the super noir and dark stories. If you’re interested give it a shot!

3 out of 5 Shady Big Corporations

Sometimes a combination of genres is just enough to make me squee, ‘oh yes!’ and here we have them: a futuristic, dystopian mystery, techno-thriller noir. Then layer that with the theme of being trans, not fitting in for other reasons, throw in some corporate shenanigans, abusive parents – and oh yes, cloning o.O

This is sliver of quite dark near-future dystopia. The technology is advanced, but otherwise it feels close enough to be chilling. Society seems to have crumbled, with various ‘otherness’ corralled into little enclaves, for community and safety.

Dora’s opinions on certain matters forced her out of her commune, but now she’s back, called on to investigate the suspicious death of her former lover, Kay. Few in the community are willing to accept it wasn’t a tragic accident, but Dora’s skillset is such that she’s not going to let the matter drop. Her investigation soon uncovers some far bigger and more sinister goings on than she was prepared for – not least, meeting herself. Sort of.

The whole story – short as it is – places us firmly in Dora’s head, and thankfully she is a strong and interesting character to carry that. There’s a lot of past trauma to be uncovered, and how that affects choices in the present.

I have to be honest, there is some sexual content that I – not remotely a prude – wasn’t entirely sure about. I don’t mean that it’s graphic at all, but… well, no spoilers. However, the issues of consent and appropriate behaviour are sort of the point. I still wasn’t 100% comfortable with it all, but given the ‘own voice’-ness of the writing, I shall bow to better knowledge on the subject than my own.

Mostly, though, this is a taut little mystery, with huge dollops of sci-fi that totally enthralled me. It’s got layers packed into that short length, and the blend is absolutely excellent at bringing something that bit fresh to the table.

This novella puts us into the not-too-distant future in Kansas City. The “haves” have a lot and the “have-nots” have very little indeed. There seems to have been some sort of climate disaster along with a political shift, resulting in corporations having a lot of power and government having very little presence. Widespread stable electricity and clean water are both luxuries.

Dora is our main character, a trans woman who left an urban commune a few years ago, after a dispute over security, or the lack thereof. When word arrives of the death of her ex, Kay, Dora visits the commune. When she realizes that Kay was murdered, she vows to find the culprit, even if they are members of the commune. If this sounds like a detective story, don’t worry; it’s more heavily a sci-fi story with a mystery at its core.

It was very interesting to have a trans woman at the core of the story, especially one with cyber skills as well as street-smarts. And there are clones! I’m not sure exactly where the title comes from, but the story is solid.

Thank you to NetGalley and Tachyon Publications for the opportunity to read an advance readers copy of this novella. All opinions are my own.

I picked up this book intending to just read a little bit to get a feel for it, but instead found myself devouring the whole thing in one sitting. For a fairly quick read, there's a lot of interesting things going on. I did find the early set-up a bit clunky, especially placing Dora to investigate "whodunit", but as the story moved beyond a simple mystery, it quickly found its groove and won me over. (I admit to having a bias in favor of science fiction over detective stories, though.) The world that Wasserstein has created is frightening because it feels very realistic, but there were enough bright spots in the story that it didn't feel totally bleak. I thought the ideas that were explored in the story were interesting and thought-provoking, and I also really appreciated the author's afterward giving some insight into how she arrived at those ideas and her approach to the story.

Playing Citizen Sleeper got me in the mood to finally get around to my ARC copy of This Fugitive Heart which was short enough to never lose my attention but long enough to have a fully-fledged story. Set in a cyberpunk future, Dora, a trans woman, is called back to the commune she once left after the accidental death of her ex by overdose. In true thriller fashion, her wasn't accidental and this kickstart a series of events that leads to the author questioning the intersection of cloning and transness. I won't say too much because I'm already spoiling some things but given that the afterword is dedidated to the author's thoughts on the topic, I think it's worth mentioning in the review.

With a novella, it's hard to review it without spoiling the plot, or saying it's good/bad/boring. I believe that This Fugitive Heart is really worth reading for anyone interested in cyberpunk and its intersection with transness.

This novella is both a recognisable addition to a classic traditional, and a beautiful voice of its own. FUGITIVE HEART reads like the best cyberpunk and neo-noir, with the added punch of corporate ambition twisted in a deeply personal case for the protagonist, Dora. Highly recommended.