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Karen Joy Fowler's first novel was Sarah Canary, and this well recognized work was added to the list of Science Fiction Masterworks just last year. I left one spot open on my list of authors for the Women of Genre Fiction reading challenge, and upon discovering the setting of this book, it was added to the final slot.

First off, there are editions of this book with a foreword or an epilog, and reviews a plenty warning not to read either. The Plume trade paperback edition seems to lack both, at least by that name, and besides has a nice easy typeface.

Mechanically the book has Roman numeral sections with bits of relevant history. Each sets the tone for the few numbered chapters that follow - an introduction to the action, as it were. Most are set in my own state, what was Washington Territory at the time. The facts in these sections are rarely brought back into play later in the book, giving this novel an episodic feel.

The points of view are of the various characters or an omniscient narrator; never of Sarah Canary herself. Each of these characters has a different view of the world, and a little of that comes across in their internal representation of what is happening. The one thing they have in common is their alienation from the mainstream.

Chin and Sarah are introduced at the beginning of the story; the two other characters join up with them one at a time. Other reviews have compared this novel to the Wizard of Oz, but I find the similarities go no further than these staggered meetings. The characters have no common goal, in fact BJ (who escaped from an asylum) has no real goal and the suffragette Miss Dixon's goal changes half way through. Finally, Sarah never speaks, and her goal is completely unexpressed.

Karen Joy Fowler has said that her "intention was that the book would read like a science fiction novel to a science fiction reader, and that it would read like a mainstream novel to a mainstream reader." As a member of the former camp, I felt the novel had a very mainstream, historical feel. There were a few bits that indicate either science fiction or fantasy, or even a dreamlike shared insanity. As Ms. Fowler put it herself, "Who Sarah Canary is, is not the point of the book."

I really enjoyed the different voices and perspectives, but the episodic layout gave the book a rambling feel. It wasn't a slow read, but I had to drag myself back to it at times. I rate it 3½ stars.

I will attempt a no-spoiler review for The Different Girl, and hopefully describe why it was just okay.

A lot of the book revolves around the education of the four girls, with that routine interrupted when a shipwrecked girl arrives at the island (the "Different Girl"). The pace of this learning is very slow, and any thought-provoking insights are easily lost. Did the arrival of the girl change the other four, or were they already changing?

The arrival of the girl (or the storm that washed her ashore) also triggers the second part of the novel, which accelerates the pace towards the ending. This part went well enough.

This leads to another point, the end. No spoilers, but there basically isn't an ending either. Major change, yes, and picking up the pieces in the aftermath, but then it just stops.

Finally, the overall theme without spoilers. Things aren't as they seem from the beginning, with clues about what is really going on. Nothing is stated, however, as the book keeps solidly to one girl's point-of-view, and she never really gets it. So the book ends with the mystery more-or-less resolved, but never stated. Sherlock's summing up would have been out of place, but would have wrapped the story nicely.

There you go - a few nice bits, but slow and no resolution means I can't recommend it to anyone.

First off, this is a decent enough collection of Arthur C. Clarke's essays. Many are pseudo-fictional, told from a future or martian point of view. Some are from the fifties, introduced by a paragraph from 1973 saying how close this came or how far. There was a lot more optimism about space when this was published, unfortunately.

Now a rant about my local library, which has this book as nonfiction. They have most of Arthur C. Clarke's other nonfiction works as well. What is missing is most of the fiction. The great works are there - Rama, 2001 - and the recent - I read the Last Theorem recently. But the majority of this great author's works are just plain gone. I realize budget cuts and lack of recent editions are part of the problem, but I hope they seek out ebook editions of the missing texts, so the next generation can enjoy this bedrock of science fiction.

Sheri S. Tepper's The Gate to Women's Country is one of 21 works added to the SF Masterworks list this year. Of all the works on the list, this may be the one with the strongest and most well written female character, but I found the story itself irritating.

This novel is set in the future, after a great war has created areas of "devastation" and most of the population is wiped out. The population (of this area at least) is divided, with women living in the city and the men live in a garrison outside the walls to protect them. At first glance, a feminist fantasy. Except the women have some men living with them, and these men are actually superior specimens, and... well, the fantasy just breaks down.

The society portrayed is matriarchal. The protagonist Stavia is a strong female character, intelligent and sensitive. Over the course of the novel she learns and grows through adversity. Her mother is on the ruling council and possesses a lot of secret knowledge about her society, revealed towards the end of the book.

Each few chapters had a wrapping metaphor of a play that the older Stavia was studying, then rehearsing, and finally presenting. Towards the end of the novel, this all made sense, but in the middle I found it an interruption. Both the play and the story of young Stavia moved very slowly at the beginning of the book, establishing the character and the scene more completely than necessary.

The novel picks up towards the middle as Stavia returns from medical training in a nearby town. She is then tasked with taking a trip to the south, which does more to reinforce just how bad things used to be (and by comparison, how much better things are in Women's Country). There she finds the inbred Holylanders who treat women as chattel (or cattle) and are generally bad – shades of Mormon Fundamentalism. The later portions of the play (the story within the story) also demonstrate a Greek society where women are treated badly, as observed by ghosts who can no longer be abused. Neither of these counter examples are particularly subtle.

Many of Sheri S. Tepper's science fiction works fit into the category of ecofeminism – the idea that men are responsible for oppressing both women and the environment. Without spoiling some of the novel's secrets, I found the morals of the women particularly gray, and not just because of my gender. I also disagree with the assertion that violence is a male trait, one that can be bred out. The same is said of Homosexuality here, netting this book the undesirable description of "Chillingly Homophobic".

I am glad I read this story, and will definitely track down Grass in the near future. Strong writing and a solid female lead are stuck in a slow and somewhat distasteful story. The description on Goodreads calls this her finest novel – I hope that isn't true – I rate it 3½ stars.

At its heart, Libba Bray's book Going Bovine is a road trip novel. From missed busses and a purchased junk car to drunken college kids to convenience store hijinks to a major theme park, this story touches all the bases. And yet, the backstory of terminal diseases, wormholes, destiny and the fate of the universe give it more than the average road trip.

Cameron Smith is diagnosed with Bovine Spongeform Encephalitis, also known as Mad Cow disease. Unfortunately, this doesn't happen until chapter 16. While some backstory is important, I believe this novel took way too much time in the lead up - it felt very slow. Some brief flashbacks occurred in the story, and would have been a better way to build Cameron's character.

Leading to that change-over are an increase in appearances of the Punk Angel Dulcie, and an unfortunate decrease in Don Quixote references. This latter is unfortunate - I found this a nice tie in between the characters (even if it was layed on a bit thick in the early chapters).

After this, the pacing of the escape from the hospital and the road trip were just about right. Individual elements were well described, and the whole thing seemed remotely believable. Bizarre occurrences and strange dreams lead a Life on Mars feel to this story.

The end felt a little rushed and muddled - I see the points that were being made, and with proper ambiguity, but it didn't hang together well. Better editing, fewer flashbacks - not sure. The character of Dulcie, so crucial to Cameron in the middle stages, basically vanishes.

A few pop culture items are created for this book, such as Rad XL soda, and the band The Copenhagen Interpretation (a reference to the scientific theory of parallel worlds). For other pop culture bits, the author has chosen to substitute a false set instead of referencing the existing - instead of quoting Star Wars, the characters quote Star Fighters. Libba Bray said the book was "about poking a little fun at modern life and pop culture" - perhaps this was the reason for the made up memes.

Is it Science Fiction? There is wormhole travel (through space and time) and supernatural events. Missing are science technology, aliens and other sci-fi props. Definitely more adventure than sci-fi or fantasy.

In summary, I found this book to be a decent road trip, but really slow to get going and somewhat misdirected at the end. I would like to read another book by Libba Bray to get a better sense of her authorship, but I am afraid that "Going Bovine" measures in at just under four stars.