TL;DR: A 900-page fantasy with a fantastic premise that is immersive but rushed…make it make sense. Felt like a crash course-speedrun before a deadline.

Settle in while I try to tell you why this didn’t land for me. I expected to love it, and maybe my expectations for the book threw me off a little (maybe a lot?). I went in expecting a high fantasy with epic battles and emotional moments. Enlighten me if this was meant to be a breezy, low-impact fantasy and we need not consider the rest of my review.

In the novelty of it, I was thoroughly impressed by the writing and structure. The POVs are split directionally, which is a neat idea, and for the most part it works. At first, it was surprisingly easy to move between characters, mindsets, and settings because of the distinct linguistic styles and tones used for East and West. The atmosphere of each place felt clear and consistent, which is especially helpful when you are still trying to get your bearings. That clarity does not last all the way to the end when the characters begin to move across regions, with their paths occasionally overlapping, but it is less of an issue by then since you have already settled into the world. Minor issue at worst.

Also, do not be intimidated by the size. The number one rule while reading fantasy is to give it at least a hundred pages before you find yourself settling in. You’d probably assume more for a book this size right? Wrong. The story and the world was surprisingly easy to immerse myself in, with pacing was so quick it felt like I’d been dropped into the middle of the story right from the start, which (initially) works in favour of this absolute unit of a book.

and then things started to feel…unserious. I couldn’t put my finger on where it was going wrong, but it definitely was.

It mostly comes down to pacing. What initially felt engaging started to feel uneven, where we get long stretches where not much happens, followed by sudden bursts where everything happens at once. The book speeds up when it should be slowing down.

This is most obvious in how it handles emotional moments. Character deaths, which should have been devastating, barely land. Not because the stakes are low, but because we are not given time to sit with the loss. It feels very much like “okay, that’s done, NEXT” because there are a dozen other plot points waiting. I’m the last person to fault an author for removing characters with no mercy, I’d respect the story more that way unfortunately because it feels more real. But it is so abrupt here that I felt none of the emotional anguish at the loss of what were supposed to be important relationships. Giving both the characters and the reader space to grieve and understand the depth of the loss would have made those moments far more impactful and the book more memorable.

Relationships also develop abruptly. Nayimathun and Tané already feel established before we really see that bond grow. The intensity of Ead and Sabran’s relationship feels abrupt because we are not given enough time to understand why those feelings deepen. Only snippets of Ead watching (admiring?) Sabran, which is a far cry from giving us the emotional development of the attachment. We are told what matters before we actually feel that they do. I hate it when authors tell us instead of showing us. The same goes for things like the water trials, for which Tané has trained for her entire life, they should’ve had more weight but were brushed past so quickly.

This ties into the biggest problem for me: the book is trying to do too much.

There is a plague, an ancient villain, political conflict, religious tension, secret organisations, wars, dragons, and probably ten other things I am forgetting. Individually, these are all SO interesting, but together they spread the story too thin. Nothing gets the depth it deserves because we are constantly moving on to the next thing. I never thought I would say that a 900-page book feels rushed. Why are we rushing so much? We have 900 pages, the readers have committed. We don’t need to rush, it’s okay. WHY ARE WE RUSHING?

By the final stretch, this becomes even more noticeable. Some plot points resolve themselves too conveniently, while others never feel fully developed before being wrapped up. I feel like chunks of time are missing from my memory the way this book is written. There is no other way to explain it, like I blacked out for the struggle and came back only for the conclusion. Like the story is hurrying to reach an ending and resolve everything while trying to keep it as a standalone. Personally, I think this would have worked far better as a series. With fewer moving parts or more room to breathe, it could have been something truly special.

The ending itself reflects all of this. After so much build-up, the climax feels rushed and oddly muddled. The “epic” battle blurs together, and what should have been intense and memorable feels brief. After spending so long in this world, I expected something that lingered, but in my mind, it was over even before the battle began.

This is an interesting one to rate. The book within the book is a fascinating way to approach the discussion around true crime. I used to watch a lot of true crime videos on YouTube, much less so now, but I still pick up the occasional true crime nonfiction. I think having consumed that kind of media beforehand definitely helped me appreciate what Eliza Clark was doing here.

The fictional true crime book itself is not very good. Which is the point. Its author constantly wanders off into tangents, includes random excerpts from podcasts, criminal and crime-adjacent anecdotes, and overall seems intent on feeding the reader’s morbid curiosity with every “juicy” detail he can justify including. He frequently interprets events as though his version is the definitive truth, and even reconstructs scenes he could never have witnessed (or been told about) with a stunning degree of confidence and detail.

I disliked the fictional true crime book, and especially its author, so much that I genuinely questioned whether I wanted to keep reading. Which is, arguably, the point. Still, I can’t help but wonder how many readers would actually sit through hundreds of pages of tangents, speculation, and rage-inducing narration to reach the bigger picture. I only did because I’m stubborn and admittedly very nosy.

I’m glad I stuck with it though, because I think Eliza Clark’s commentary is worth experiencing. A lot of the fictional book is written in a way that doesn’t really feel exaggerated, which might have been the most unsettling part for me. The sensationalism, the speculation presented as insight, the constant expansion of the narrative to keep readers engaged, etc.

Rather than telling you what to think about true crime, Eliza Clark simply holds up a mirror. I found myself questioning not only the way these stories are told, but also my own reasons for consuming them in the first place. Is there really an ethical way to consume this kind of content? And if there is, where do we draw the line? How much creative licence should journalists and authors be allowed before they’re no longer documenting a tragedy, but reshaping it?

I don’t have a definitive answer yet. I think that’s exactly what makes this book so effective.

The interview at the end also ties everything together beautifully and reinforces what the rest of the novel had already been quietly suggesting. It’s a fantastic ending to a book that, despite frustrating me for large stretches of it, has left me with a lot of food for thought. I think I’ll be puzzling over the commentary and the message of the book for a while.