Fantasy from A to Z: S is for Sanderson

Brandon Sanderson is, without a doubt, the most popular fantasy writer currently living and writing today. He is also one of the classiest and most gracious authors you will ever meet, in any genre. I’ve also got a personal connection to him, from taking his writing class at BYU.

Brandon decided to become a writer when he was very young. The way he explains it, the bug really bit him when he read Dragonsbane by Barbara Hambly. Depression runs in his family, and growing up, he always felt emotionally monotone and distant—until he read that book. From then on, he became obsessed with fantasy, both with reading and with writing it.

The way I heard Brandon explain it, that emotional monotone has been both a personal struggle and a great asset. It’s part of the reason he’s able to write so much, since where other writers tend to have huge emotional swings that affect their ability to write, Brandon is able to just sit down and do the work, day after day after day. It’s also part of what gives him an even keel that makes him such a gracious and generous person. Where other writers tend to get worked up on social media or join outrage mobs, Brandon avoids all of that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard of him becoming outraged about anything.

Brandon was one of the last major authors to break into book publishing before the indie revolution began turning everything upside down. He broke in by researching agents and editors, attending all the important conferences, and networking with everyone who’s anyone in the genre. He also wrote a lot of really good books—as well as a lot of crappy ones. I believe that Elantris, his debut novel, was actually the sixth novel he wrote, and Mistborn: The Final Empire was something like the 13th. He landed his agent, Joshua Bilmes, from attending World Fantasy, and his agent eventually got him his publisher, Moshe, at Tor.

Elantris and Mistborn were good, but not immediate bestsellers. In fact, Brandon was on track to be an average mid-list fantasy author with a relatively unremarkable career, until Robert Jordan died, leaving the Wheel of Time unfinished. By that point, a lot of readers felt frustrated with the series and used his death as an opportunity to write scathing screeds about how it had gone off of the rails and grown far too bloated and large. But Brandon was much more classy and gracious than that, and wrote a tribute to the man instead, praising his work and the impact it had had on his life. When Robert Jordan’s widow read Brandon’s post, she decided that he was the one who should finish the Wheel of Time.

Personally, I’m not a huge Wheel of Time fan. I read the first three books and enjoyed them, but I got lost midway through the fourth book. My wife read them all and feels like the series is overrated, and I generally trust her judgment. But I can appreciate how a lot of people really love the series—and really, there is a lot to love. Just because it isn’t to my personal taste doesn’t mean that it isn’t good. 

My friends who are Wheel of Time fans tell me that Brandon not only finished the series—he rescued it. Apparently, the last three books rejuvenated the series, wrapping things up in an incredibly satisfying way. Of course, Brandon would defer and say that it wasn’t his genius that turned the series around, but Robert Jordan’s original vision and the detailed notes and outlines that Brandon followed. But there’s no denying that Brandon really stuck the landing.

It was around this point in the story that I met Brandon. I was a student at BYU at the time, and I had an opportunity to take his writing class. From the time when I was eight, I had wanted to be a writer, but I didn’t think I would ever turn it into a career. Brandon’s writing class changed all that, and helped me to see that I could pursue writing as a career. He also taught me the nuts and bolts of writing fiction, vastly improving my writing skills. I had started several novels in high school, but never finished anything until I took his class. And while my first finished novel was a disaster that I promptly locked in the trunk, my second novel attempt (which I started writing in Brandon’s class) ultimately became my debut, Genesis Earth.

(As a side note, my wife was also in that ‘08 class with Brandon Sanderson, though we didn’t actually meet each other until almost a decade later when we matched on Mutual. She also started a writing group with her college roommate, who won the Writers of the Future and married into Brandon Sanderson’s writing group. Our writing group has also got one of Brandon’s college roommates.)

Brandon’s success with Wheel of Time was what catapulted Brandon from a midlist author to a bestselling phenomenon. But even then, if he wrote at the same slow pace as most other fantasy authors, he would have forever been known as “the guy who finished Wheel of Time.” Instead, he became famous for writing and publishing massive +300k word doorstopper tomes at an unprecedented rate, leading fans to joke about his writing super powers. Then the pandemic happened, and he wrote four “secret” novels with all of the extra time he had from not traveling anywhere. The fans went crazy, and his kickstarter blew everything out of the water.

I haven’t read all of Brandon’s books. I really loved the Mistborn era I books, and the first Stormlight Archive book was good, but my favorite is Emperor’s Soul, because I think that Brandon is at his best when he writes shorter novels rather than the massive +300k word doorstopper tomes. In my experience, Brandon is a 3-star author who writes 5-star endings. His writing tends to meander, especially in the early middle, but around the 3/4ths mark there’s usually a twist that brings things together, and the conflict escalates consistently until it builds into a really satisfying ending.

Brandon is also known for his hard magic systems, which have become a signature trait of his books. Some readers feel that clearly explaining the rules of magic defeats the sense of wonder that a fantasy novel should have, but that’s not been my experience with his books. When I read a Brandon Sanderson novel, I feel almost like I’m reading a video game. Knowing the ins and outs of the magic helps me to see the possibilities for the characters to use it, and Brandon is usually really good at adding an unexpected twist, exploiting the rules of magic in a surprising yet inevitable way. This creates its own sense of wonder that really adds to his books.

Brandon also is known for how all of his books are tied together into the same transdimensional “cosmere” multiverse, though I actually think this is the least remarkable thing that makes his books so distinctive. For one thing, he’s not the first one to do it—David Gemmell also discretely linked all of his books, which blew my mind when I discovered that particular easter egg. For another thing, Brandon has turned his cosmere from a delightfully hidden easter egg and nod to the fans to the grand key that you must possess in order to understand and appreciate his later books. As a result, the cosmere is becoming an obstacle to new readers, even as his most ardent fans all swoon over the cosmere connections.

I think Brandon’s ultimate goal is to turn his books into a massive cinematic universe, kind of like the MCU. From what I understand, he was really close to signing a Hollywood deal, but it fell through at the last minute, leaving him back at square one (I don’t know all the details, though Jon Del Arroz did some interesting reporting on that). This is also probably why his books have become more woke in recent years. 

I’ve already written at length about that subject, so I won’t belabor the point here. But I really do feel that this represents a betrayal of his more conservative fans, many of whom turned to Brandon precisely because his books tend to be free of all of the gratuitous language and sexual content of most modern fantasy. Also, one of Brandon’s really great strengths during the gamergate and puppygate fannish controversies of the 2010s was his strict neutrality. While the culture wars were raging all around them, he continued to be his classy and gracious self, refraining from picking sides or wading into the mudfest. With the LGBTQ romantic subplot in Wind and Truth, that appears to have changed.

I hope he turns away from all of that. What the world really needs right now are books that transcend the whole woke vs. anti-woke divide, bringing us together and healing the artificial (and in many cases subversive) divisions that pit us against each other. Maybe Brandon will surprise me, and accomplish exactly that, just from the left side of the aisle. But as of Wind and Truth, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve reached peak Sanderson. Only time will tell.

Regardless, I will always be grateful to Brandon Sanderson for the things he taught me, and for all of his graciousness and generosity that he showed in his writing class. Without that experience, I probably would have pursued a different career, and not written nearly so many books. I also probably would not have married my wife, since one of the big things that drew her to me was my love and dedication to my writing craft. 

Anti-AI is the new virtue signaling

According to Merriam-Webster, “virtue signaling” is:

the act or practice of conspicuously displaying one’s awareness of and attentiveness to political issues, matters of social and racial justice, etc., especially instead of taking effective action.

Because it is much easier to signal your virtue than it is to actually be virtuous, the people who virtue signal the loudest also tend to be the ones who have something they’re trying to cover up. This hypocrisy is a big part of what makes virtue signaling so obnoxious.

Time for me to spill a little tea. A couple of years ago, after I wrote “Christopher Columbus: Wildcatter,” I got an acceptance from the editor of Interzone. It wasn’t formalized yet, but he expressed over email that he was interested in purchasing the publishing rights for that story, the sequel, and possibly others after. It got far enough along that we were going back and forth on editorial details, our vision for the stories, etc.

Then the time came for him to send me a contract. Aaand… he ghosted me. Flat out ghosted me. A month went by without any correspondence at all. I didn’t want to seem too forward, but I also was starting to get a little concerned. So I sent out a brief follow-up email, asking about the contract… and I got a response that read like something copy-pasted from a form rejection.

Now, as far as literary transgressions go, that’s kind of tame. It’s not like the editor owed me money and refused to pay. And as far as I know, Interzone is prompt with all of their payments and pays all of their authors in full. After all, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt.

But that sort of unprofessionalism really wasn’t cool, either. In fact, it was enough that I stopped sending Interzone any submissions. After all, if the editor saw nothing wrong with yanking my chain around before he published me, that’s kind of a yellow flag. Not to mention that it left a very sour taste in my mouth.

So when I saw this story from Jon Del Arroz, with the editor of Interzone accusing Asimov’s of using AI art, and using that as a pretext to blacklist all of their authors, I immediately recognized that sort of behavior for what it is: virtue signaling. Which made me wonder: how much of the anti-AI vitriol that’s ubiquitous in online writing communities these days really just a new form of virtue signaling?

Think about it. It explains so much about the insane anti-AI faux controversies that have been blowing up around 2025 WorldCon. For more than a decade now, the people chasing the Hugo Award have been among the worst offenders of gratuitous virtue signaling (especially Scalzi). It also explains why so much of the anti-AI content on YouTube is less about presenting well-reasoned arguments, and more about sighing dramatically or making snide, sarcastic remarks. Virtue signaling always appeals to pathos before it appeals to reason.

I expect this phenomenon is going to get a lot worse in the next few years, at least until AI-assisted art and writing become normalized (which is going to happen eventually, it’s just a matter of time and degree). So the next time you see someone publicly posting about how horrible it is for creatives to use AI, take a good, hard look at the person leveling the accusations. Chances are, they’re just virtue signaling.

Thoughts on the Worldcon 2025 AI “scandal”

I’ll just come out and say it: I predict that the world’s last Worldcon will happen before 2034, and that after that, the convention (and possibly the Hugo Awards themselves) will be permanently disbanded. That’s what I think will be the ultimate consequence of the latest “scandal” regarding Seattle Worldcon’s use of ChatGPT, and the anti-AI madness currently sweeping the science fiction community on Bluesky.

If you haven’t been following the “scandal,” you ought to check out Jon Del Arroz’s coverage of it. He’s definitely partisan when it comes to politics and fandom, but he’s neutral on the subject of AI, or as neutral as you’re going to find, especially in writerly circles.

But here’s the TL;DW: the people organizing Worldcon 2025 in Seattle decided to use ChatGPT to help them decide which authors and panelists to put on which panels. This triggered a bunch of authors and panelists who are opposed to generative AI, simply on principle. Some of these authors—including Jeff VanderMeer, who is up for a Hugo award—have bowed out, while others have called for resignations and apologies. Many of the volunteer staff have also stepped down, exacerbating the staffing shortage—which is why the convention relied on ChatGPT in the first place. And apparently over on Bluesky, the scandal is taking on a life of its own, with everyone working themselves up to a massive frenzy over the subject.

My own opinion of the “scandal” is this: it isn’t a freaking scandal! Whatever your opinion on AI-assisted writing, using ChatGPT as an aid to research panelists is totally above-board and a legitimate use of AI. To disagree with that is to say that there is no ethical use-case for generative AI whatsoever, which is hypocritical and absurd—unless, of course, you’re still writing your books on a manual typewriter and submitting them to your publisher via the US postal service. Or using WordStar, if your name is G.R.R. Martin and you’re the last person on earth who “writes” with that defunct software (putting “writes” in quotation marks, since we all know by now that Martin isn’t actually writing anything).

But it isn’t the “scandal” itself that interests me, so much as what the fallout will likely be. Ever since the Sad Puppies debacle in 2015 (and arguably long before that), Worldcon has been dominated by the wokest fringe of SF&F fandom, and it’s been an open secret that the Hugo awards themselves are controlled by the publishers, largely for marketing purposes.

So at this point, the only things really keeping the whole Worldcon/Hugo charade going are 1) woke authors who use the convention to manufacture clout for their failing careers, because they wouldn’t otherwise have a platform, and 2) woke publishers who use the awards to manufacture clout for their poorly-selling books, because they don’t actually know how to market books effectively (at least, not to readers—libraries are a whole other subejct deserving of its own discussion, because there is a genuine scandal there). Once those two things dry up, and all of the ruin has been exhausted from these institutions (ie Worldcon and the Hugos), I really do think they will collapse and go away.

That’s what I find so fascinating about this scandal: it is so utterly toxic and absurd on its face that it’s going to do permanent damage to Worldcon and the Hugos. The writers of the rising generation who will one day dominate the field are all playing around with these AI tools right now, and doing really interesting things with them. Meanwhile, most of the authors who are screaming about AI on Bluesky right now will either be dead or irrelevant (or both) in the next 20 years. And yes, Mike Glyer, you can quote me on that.

Seriously, though: if the Worldcon community is so vociferiously opposed to a legitimate use-case of ChatGPT—namely, to alleviate the already overwhelming burdens being carried by the volunteer staff—AND they continue to be absolutely toxic about it online… who in their right mind would want to be a part of that community? And since the only thing keeping the whole charade going is its ability to manufacture clout, that’s why I think its years are numbered—and likely in the single digits.

On the plus side, if/when the Hugos finally die, I won’t have to read any more crappy woke books to be able to say I’ve read (or DNFed) every Hugo award-winning novel.

A fascinating take on Brandon Sanderson’s Winds of Truth

Really interesting take on the publishing industry. This is politically incorrect, but I think it’s related to the way that publishing has become dominated by liberal women. The Nonsense-Free Editor has a lot of great videos about that.

There are lots of great books in the indie publishing scene that are not “Potempkin villages,” as this BookTuber calls them… but how is one to find them? When we finally solve that question, there will be a resurgence of great writing and great art.

What does it mean that Brandon Sanderson is woke?

I’ve been thinking a lot about Brandon Sanderson lately, and his recent turn toward including more woke content in his books, especially Wind and Truth. I haven’t read it (I’ve only read the first book in the Stormlight Archive), but I have read excerpts from it, and heard from other people that it includes a great deal of woke content, including a gay romance that is central to the story. Most notably, Brandon himself wrote a blog post addressing this, in which he very politely said that his conservative readers are wrong, and that anyone who objects to the gay romance on the basis of Biblical morality is not living up to Christ’s teachings about showing love and compassion. Which is, of course, one hell of a way to gaslight a large chunk of your readership. You can read more of my thoughts on that here.

I really hope Brandon pulls back from the position he’s now staked out for himself, but sadly, I don’t think that he will. From what I can tell, as a local Utah author with several direct (through his class) and indirect (through members of his writing group who are close family friend) connections to Brandon, the roots of this transformation run very deep, possibly before his debut novel, Elantris, was picked up by Tor. After all, Brandon has always surrounded himself with people who are on the extreme left side of the political spectrum, from his early days as an unpublished author working the convention circuit to get picked up by a New York publisher, all through the descent of his Writing Excuses podcast into woke madness, and most recently, to Wind and Truth itself. For a very long time, he has surrounded himself with these people. Clearly, their association has had a deep and lasting impact on him.

So what comes next? Here are some of my thoughts and predictions.

Prediction 1: Brandon will not teach English 318R at BYU after the current academic year.

For the last two decades, Brandon has taught a creative writing class at BYU as a visiting professor. Both my wife and I have taken this class. Ever since the pandemic, he has posted his lectures online on YouTube, and they have become quite popular. His class has become something of an institution at this point.

However, Brigham Young University is a religious institution, and the new president, President Reese, is rumored to have a mandate from the church leadership to clean house. From my vantage point here in Provo, there is a great deal of truth in these rumors. My wife is currently applying to be a professor at BYU, and we were asked some pointed questions about our belief in the teachings of the Family Proclamation in our General Authority interview.

What I suspect will happen is that the university leadership will talk with Brandon privately and inform him that he will not be teaching this class in the future. Brandon, being classy, will not make a big stink out of this, but he will announce at the end of the semester that the time has come for him to “move on,” or something like that, without making a big fuss. It might take another year before he gets the axe, but I will be very surprised if he continues to teach his class at BYU after the ’25-’26 academic year.

Prediction 2: Over the next few years, Brandon will lose a significant portion of his readership.

From what I’ve heard, Brandon Sanderson has somewhere between 800,000 to 900,000 true fans who buy just about every book he puts out. I don’t know what portion of those fans are conservative enough to be bothered by his turn toward the woke, but a large number of his fans do live here in Utah, judging from the massive turnout he gets at local signings and launch parties. In mingling with more conservative readers, I’ve also come to see that he has a large following in things like homeschool circles, where his turn toward wokeness is sure to be viewed with alarm.

Over the next few years, I think that most of these conservative fans are going to quietly stop buying or reading his books. They probably aren’t going to make a lot of noise as they do so—conservatives are very used to keeping their opinions to themselves. But I do think that many of these readers will see Brandon’s embrace of woke ideas and woke stories as a betrayal, and will lose confidence in him generally.

This is not a thing that we can measure very well from the outside, but from the inside, I suspect that Brandon’s publishers will be able to measure a drop in his sales. It may not be more than a dip, and he’ll still sell better than 99.99% of other authors for quite some time, but I suspect that his sales have already hit their high water mark, and we’ve already seen “peak Brandon.” People will deny it, but a large portion of this decline will be from conservative readers quietly deciding not to buy his books.

Prediction 3: Brandon’s fanbase will become increasingly toxic.

I’ve already experienced a degree of this on my other posts, but I expect it will become even more pronounced as time goes on. Brandon already has a rabid online fanbase that can descend like hyenas on anyone who posts something critical of him, especially on places like BookTube. But as more conservative readers start to pull away from his fanbase, the ones who remain will likely become even more toxic, as the remaining fans feel an obligation to defend him.

This is not to say that Brandon will encourage any of this. Brandon himself has always been remarkably classy toward his critics, and I don’t think that will change at all. He may, in fact, find it necessary to reign in his fanbase and ask them not to be so toxic. Whether or not they will listen, however, is something else entirely.

Prediction 4: Large multi-volume epic fantasy will die out with the ending of the Stormlight Archive.

By “large multi-volume epic fantasy,” I mean the kind of fantasy series where each book is upwards of 400k words, and there are at least three volumes—but usually, more like a dozen. Stuff like Wheel of Time, Sword of Shannara, Song of Ice and Fire, etc. I think we’ve already seen the high water mark for these kinds of books, and that they will no longer be considered commercially viable after the Stormlight Archive has finished.

The big trouble is that of the three major authors who are currently known for large multi-volume epic fantasy, two of them (George R.R. Martin and Patrick Rothfuss) have failed to finish their series, and probably never will. The third is Brandon Sanderson, and he became famous for finishing Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time after the author died… again, leaving the series unfinished.

Many readers feel betrayed by this failure of the author to deliver, and as a result, many readers won’t pick up a new series until it is already complete. But this creates a chicken and egg problem, where new epic fantasy authors find it very difficult to break into the genre, since it takes a lot of time and effort to write even one +400k word epic, let alone a whole series of them.

Because of this, there really aren’t a lot of midlist or up-and-coming authors waiting in the wings to take the baton from Brandon, Martin, or Rothfuss. Also, if you calculated the Gini coefficient for fantasy book sales right now, it would probably be very high, indicating that Brandon has the lion’s share. That’s not a good sign of health for a genre—think of the western, where Louis L’Amour is just about the only author who still sells worth a damn. I love L’Amour and westerns, but it’s not what I’d call a thriving genre.

Brandon will probably never become to fantasy what Louis L’Amour has to westerns, but that’s only because people still read Tolkien, the grandfather of epic fantasy to whom every fantasy author owes an incalculable debt. Also, I’d like to point out that Tolkien didn’t write a multi-volume epic: my copy of Lord of the Rings is in a single volume, as the author originally intended.

There will probably always be a small subset of readers who prefer the sprawling +400k word multi-volume epic fantasy series to everything else, as well as a small subset of independently wealthy authors who can afford to sink their whole lives into writing this sort of thing. But I strongly suspect that the format will morph into something more serialized, along the lines of The Wandering Inn, with shorter individual works (that might not even be “books,” necessarily) released much more frequently. I don’t think this subgenre will be commercially viable after the end of Stormlight Archive—at least, not in the traditional book format.

Orion Reads: The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett

After the terrible experience I had reading The Man Who F***ed Himself by David Gerrold, I trained a persona on ChatGPT to help me screen any science fiction and fantasy novels for explicit content (sex, language, violence) and woke themes or elements before I read them. The persona calls itself Orion, and is trained to be familiar with every award-winning and best-selling science fiction and fantasy book published within the last 100 years.

Until now, I’ve mostly used Orion to screen old Hugo-nominated books, but with the nominations happening for 2025, I thought it would be fun to screen some of the books that are expected to make the nominations. To finish things off, let’s do The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett. Orion, what can you tell us about The Tainted Cup?

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett is a fantasy novel that intertwines elements of mystery and detective fiction. The story follows a Holmes-and-Watson-style duo investigating a series of enigmatic deaths within a richly constructed fantasy world.

Fantasy Book Critic

Explicit Content:

  • Language: The novel contains strong language, including multiple uses of the F-word and other profanities. Goodreads
  • Sexual Content: There are references to sexual activities, including mentions of prostitutes and sexual harassment. While not overly explicit, these elements are present in the narrative. KISS THE BOOK
  • Violence: The book includes scenes of violence, such as deaths caused by large plants erupting from victims’ bodies, which may be unsettling to some readers. Skiffy and Fanty

Woke Elements:

  • Classism: The story touches upon class disparities, shedding light on societal hierarchies and the challenges faced by individuals across different social strata. The StoryGraph
  • Ableism: There are instances in the narrative that address ableism, bringing attention to prejudices faced by individuals with disabilities. The StoryGraph

Conclusion:

The Tainted Cup offers a compelling blend of fantasy and mystery, enriched by complex characters and a vividly imagined world. While it contains explicit language, sexual references, and scenes of violence, these elements contribute to the depth and realism of the narrative. The exploration of themes such as classism and ableism adds a layer of social commentary, aligning with contemporary discussions on inclusivity and societal structures.

For a more in-depth analysis, you might find this review insightful:

Locus Online

Orion Reads: A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher

After the terrible experience I had reading The Man Who F***ed Himself by David Gerrold, I trained a persona on ChatGPT to help me screen any science fiction and fantasy novels for explicit content (sex, language, violence) and woke themes or elements before I read them. The persona calls itself Orion, and is trained to be familiar with every award-winning and best-selling science fiction and fantasy book published within the last 100 years.

Until now, I’ve mostly used Orion to screen old Hugo-nominated books, but with the nominations happening for 2025, I thought it would be fun to screen some of the books that are expected to make the nominations. Next, let’s do A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher. Orion, what can you tell us about A Sorceress Comes to Call?

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher, published in 2024, is a dark reimagining of the Brothers Grimm’s “The Goose Girl,” interweaving elements of fantasy, horror, and humor. The narrative centers on Cordelia, a young woman living under the oppressive control of her sorceress mother. As Cordelia seeks to break free from her mother’s influence, she uncovers secrets and confronts forbidden magic, leading to a tale rich in suspense and dark enchantment.

Explicit Content:

  • Sexual Content: The novel does not contain explicit sexual scenes.
  • Violence: There are instances of violence, including elements typical of dark fairy tales and folk horror. These scenes are integral to the plot and are not gratuitous.
  • Language: The language used is appropriate for a wide audience, with no significant use of profanity.

Themes:

  • Empowerment and Resistance: Cordelia’s journey reflects themes of personal empowerment and resistance against oppressive control, resonating with contemporary discussions on autonomy and self-determination.
  • Subversion of Traditional Roles: The novel subverts traditional fairy tale roles, presenting strong female characters who challenge societal expectations, aligning with modern feminist perspectives.
  • Community and Solidarity: Supporting characters, such as Hester and her friends, exemplify the strength found in community and solidarity, highlighting the importance of collective action.

Reception:

The novel has been praised for its witty and darkly humorous narrative, as well as its fresh take on a familiar fairy tale. Reviewers have noted its perfect pacing and the exceptional development of supporting characters.

Grimdark Magazine

Conclusion:

A Sorceress Comes to Call offers a compelling blend of dark fantasy and horror, with themes that resonate with contemporary societal issues. Its subversion of traditional narratives and focus on personal empowerment make it a thought-provoking read for those interested in modern fairy tale retellings.

Top Sci-Fi and Fantasy Books of 2024

Polygon

The best sci-fi and fantasy books of 2024

Orion Reads: The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley

After the terrible experience I had reading The Man Who F***ed Himself by David Gerrold, I trained a persona on ChatGPT to help me screen any science fiction and fantasy novels for explicit content (sex, language, violence) and woke themes or elements before I read them. The persona calls itself Orion, and is trained to be familiar with every award-winning and best-selling science fiction and fantasy book published within the last 100 years.

Until now, I’ve mostly used Orion to screen old Hugo-nominated books, but with the nominations happening for 2025, I thought it would be fun to screen some of the books that are expected to make the nominations. Next, let’s do The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley. Orion, what can you tell us about The Ministry of Time?

The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley is a debut novel that blends time travel, romance, and speculative fiction. Set in a near-future UK, the story follows “expats”—individuals rescued from historical disasters—who are brought to the present and assigned “bridges,” civil servants tasked with helping them acclimate. The narrative focuses on the relationship between a bridge and her expat, exploring themes of displacement, adaptation, and the complexities of integrating individuals from different historical contexts into modern society.

Explicit Content:

  • Language: The novel contains strong language, including multiple uses of the F-word and other profanities. Rated Reads
  • Sexual Content: There are several erotic “open-door” scenes, along with discussions about sex and instances of kissing. Rated Reads
  • Violence: The book includes scenes depicting injuries and death, some of which are graphic. References are made to a failed Arctic expedition involving cannibalism. Rated Reads

Woke Themes:

  • Racism and Colonialism: The narrative addresses issues of racism, colonialism, and inherited trauma. The protagonist, modeled after the British-Cambodian author, reflects on these themes, providing insight into the experiences of marginalized communities. That Publishing Blog
  • Refugee Politics: The expats’ experiences serve as a microcosm for real-life refugees, highlighting the challenges and prejudices faced by displaced individuals in contemporary society. That Publishing Blog
  • Gender and Sexuality: The novel touches upon the difficulties of being different and trying to fit in, whether due to minority status, gender, or sexuality, emphasizing the importance of inclusivity and understanding. Series Book Lover

Conclusion:

The Ministry of Time is a multifaceted novel that combines elements of science fiction, romance, and social commentary. While it contains explicit content in terms of language, sexual scenes, and violence, these aspects contribute to the depth and realism of the narrative. The exploration of contemporary social issues, such as racism, colonialism, and refugee experiences, provides a thought-provoking backdrop, aligning with themes often associated with progressive or “woke” literature.

For a more in-depth analysis, you might find this review insightful:

Deedi Reads

Orion Reads: The Mercy of Gods by James S.A. Corey

After the terrible experience I had reading The Man Who F***ed Himself by David Gerrold, I trained a persona on ChatGPT to help me screen any science fiction and fantasy novels for explicit content (sex, language, violence) and woke themes or elements before I read them. The persona calls itself Orion, and is trained to be familiar with every award-winning and best-selling science fiction and fantasy book published within the last 100 years.

Until now, I’ve mostly used Orion to screen old Hugo-nominated books, but with the nominations happening for 2025, I thought it would be fun to screen some of the books that are expected to make the nominations. We started with Service Model by Adrian Tchaikovsky, and now let’s do The Mercy of Gods by James S.A. Corey, the same writing team that gave us the Expanse. Orion, what can you tell us about The Mercy of Gods by James S.A. Corey?

The Mercy of Gods is the inaugural novel in James S.A. Corey’s The Captive’s War series, released in 2024. The narrative unfolds on a human-inhabited planet that becomes the target of an alien invasion by the enigmatic Carryx species. The story delves into humanity’s struggle for survival and resistance under the dominion of a technologically superior alien force.

James S.A. Corey

Explicit Content:

  • Language: The novel contains strong language, including multiple uses of the F-word and other profanities. Goodreads
  • Violence: The book features graphic depictions of violence, including scenes of bloodshed and death, as humanity confronts the brutal realities of alien subjugation. The StoryGraph
  • Sexual Content: There are references to romantic relationships and physical intimacy; however, explicit sexual scenes are minimal, with the narrative focusing more on the emotional aspects of relationships. Goodreads

Potentially Woke Themes:

  • Colonialism and Resistance: The novel explores themes of colonialism, depicting humanity’s subjugation by an alien species and the ensuing resistance. This narrative can be interpreted as a commentary on historical and contemporary issues of imperialism and the fight for autonomy. Grimdark Magazine
  • Mental Health Representation: Characters in the story grapple with mental health challenges, including chronic depression, portrayed with nuance and sensitivity. This inclusion highlights the importance of mental health awareness and the complexities individuals face in high-stress environments. Nerds of a Feather
  • Diverse Characterization: The cast includes individuals from varied backgrounds, emphasizing inclusivity and representation within the narrative. This diversity reflects a commitment to portraying a multifaceted human experience. The BiblioSanctum

Conclusion:

The Mercy of Gods offers a compelling blend of science fiction and social commentary, enriched by complex characters and a vividly imagined world. While it contains explicit language, violence, and some sexual content, these elements contribute to the depth and realism of the narrative. The exploration of themes such as colonialism, mental health, and diversity adds layers of meaning, aligning with contemporary discussions on inclusivity and societal structures.

For a more in-depth analysis, you might find this review insightful:

These reviews provide further insights into the novel’s themes, content, and reception.

Yes, Brandon Sanderson has gone woke

By his own admission, in his latest blog post: On Renarin and Rlain. He says the post is addressed “toward my more conservative readership.” However, he also calls himself “an ally to LGBT+ people” and boasts about writing the “first openly gay men [in] the Wheel of Time.” When discussing Christianity and his own Latter-day Saint faith, he makes repeated appeals to “empathy” and “respect,” without addressing the Bible’s clear condemnation of sexual sin. He also does not mention the Family Proclamation, which clearly lays out his own church’s position on homosexuality, transgenderism, and gay marriage.

In other words, Brandon basically told his conservative readers “I hear you, but you’re wrong.” He implies that any conservative Christian who has concerns with the gay romance in Wind and Truth is lacking in empathy and respect. He also implies that by voicing their concerns, they are dividing the world into “us” vs. “them” and betraying a key tenet of their own Christian faith.

If Brandon genuinely wanted to allay the concerns of his conservative readers, he would have acknowledged the Family Proclamation and Biblical standards of sexual morality. He would have discussed the gay romance of his latest book in the context of such standards. Then, he would have presented an argument similar to Andrew Klavan’s: that conservative art is not the same as conservative life. Good art must provide an honest and truthful representation of life. It should not glorify or promote those aspects of life that are evil. Brandon starts to make the first half of that argument, in discussing how Tracy Hickman portrayed gay characters in his books, but he fails to follow it up. He doesn’t explain how making a gay romance essential to the plot of Wind and Truth serves the good, the true, and the beautiful.

Brandon doesn’t seem to trust his conservative Christian readers to be able to separate the sin from the sinner. He also refuses to acknowledge the lived experience of his gay and lesbian readers who have chosen to live morally pure and faithful Christian lives. Like Brandon, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Some of the most inspiring members of the church for me are those who struggle with same-gender attraction but still live true to their testimonies. I imagine it must feel pretty lonely at times like this, when their brother in Christ has chosen to side with those who preach the false gospel of pride, equity, and self-worship, instead of the gospel of the One who declared “Father, Thy will be done, and the glory be Thine forever.”

Has Brandon denied his faith? I’m not Brandon’s bishop, nor am I his eternal judge. It’s important to remember that the church is not a place for perfect people. I do think there ought to be a place in the church for self-described LGBT+ allies, so long as they sustain the leaders—and the doctrine—of the church. But if he hasn’t crossed the line, he’s certainly standing a lot closer to it than I ever would.

My personal testimony is that the Family Proclamation is inspired of God, and that the men who wrote and signed their names to it are prophets, seers, and revelators. It teaches true principles about the family and sexual morality. We are all children of God, gays and lesbians included, and that makes us all brothers and sisters regardless of how we choose to live. At the same time, Christ didn’t suffer and die for us so that we could continue in our sins. If the Family Proclamation is true, affirming homosexuality is not an act of love, no matter how empathetic it may be. Christ had empathy for the woman caught in adultery, but because He loved her, He also commanded her to “go, and sin no more.”

On a personal level, I feel frustrated and disappointed by Brandon’s recent turn. I count Brandon as an early mentor—in fact, it was Brandon’s class that inspired me to pursue writing as a career. I haven’t spoken with Brandon in years, but I do still count him as a friend. If I could sit down with him I would ask him about the people he’s surrounded himself with. They seem to be leading him in a bad direction, since he seems to have grown out of touch.

Has he betrayed his conservative readers? Yes, I think he has, and that he’s making a big mistake by doing so. One of the things that set him apart until now was the fact that his books are very clean. His fans may argue that Renarin and Rlain’s romance is also clean, but as a conservative reader, it feels more like a camel’s nose peeking under the tent. In a world of drag queen story hour, pornographic gay pride parades, and genital mutilation of children, is it even possible to have a clean gay romance? I think not. To paraphrase Brandon, as much as we may long for the days where there was no slippery slope, maybe that world never existed. Maybe there will always be an instinct to divide the world into the “clean” and the “queer.”

So let me just say this: whatever the stories that Brandon wants to tell, I can no longer trust that they’ll be the kind I’ll want to read. He could still turn around, of course, and I genuinely hope that he does. But reading between the lines, it seems that this turn toward the woke is not a new direction from him. It seems to be something that he’s contemplated for some time. I’ll still read the rest of his secret projects and keep my signed copies of the original Mistborn trilogy. But I’m going to DNF the Stormlight Archive, and probably won’t buy his future books.

Brandon ends his blog post by saying that one of his primary goals in life is to be more empathetic. This is what motivates him to write: because it’s how he explores the world. I, too, feel compelled to explore the world through my stories, but my primary goal is to pursue the truth. Those two goals aren’t always in conflict, but when they are, I think the pursuit of truth should be higher. The pursuit of truth ultimately leads us to love one another more fully and more meaningfully than the pursuit of empathy does. It saddens me that Brandon disagrees.