This readalong will run through November 15th! Read one of the 3 selected books and post or comment in the book forum to earn the sugar skull badge. You can find the three selections on the Special Events page accessible from the Discuss tab.

If you've already finished one of the books, you can still participate & earn the badge by posting or commenting (but please keep it authentic--don't just post "this was good" aka a review or "posting for my badge"). Excited to see all the discussions in the book forums!

More context on Special Event Readalongs: We hosted our first Special Event Readalong for Pride this past summer. This was a huge hit and fostered PB-wide discussion on queer characters and stories. To continue fostering discussions on more niche and diverse books & voices, we'll be hosting a Special Event readalong once a season.

“In that respect, it seems to me that creatures with less complicated intelligences than humans are more in line with how you’d expect a machine to behave. Your brain—the human brain—started out as a food good, other apes bad mechanism. You still have those root functions, deep down in there. But you are so much more than that.”

This line captures what I love about the book so far: it holds up a mirror to humanity with so much gentleness. The robot’s observation isn’t judgmental, it feels almost affectionate. It reminds us that humans are layered. At our core we still carry the instincts that once kept us alive, to seek food, to protect, to compete. But we have built so much meaning and empathy on top of those roots.

It is a good reminder that being human is both simple and complex. We are animals wired to survive, and we are also capable of reflection, art, connection, and love. That mix of primal and profound is what makes us both frustrating and fascinating.

It also nudges me toward self-compassion. When we act out of fear, greed, or jealousy, it does not mean we are broken, it means we are working against very old programming. Recognizing that does not excuse harm, but it explains why real change takes patience and practice.

Maybe that is part of the book’s larger message: understand what we are without judgment. Robots understand their design. Humans are still learning to do the same.

“A forest floor, the Woodland villagers knew, is a living thing. Vast civilizations lay within the mosaic of dirt: hymenopteran labyrinths, rodential panic rooms, life-giving airways sculpted by the traffic of worms, hopeful spiders’ hunting cabins, crash pads for nomadic beetles, trees shyly locking toes with one another. It was here that you’d find the resourcefulness of rot, the wholeness of fungi.”

That bit made me stop and look down, like… oh right, the ground is busy. I love how Chambers turns the forest floor into a neighborhood. Worms are city planners, beetles are couch-surfing travelers, spiders are setting up little cabins, and the trees are literally holding hands. It makes the dirt feel social, not just dirty.

“The resourcefulness of rot” really hit me. Decay is doing work. It is not failure. It is recycling, feeding, and making room. Fungi as “wholeness” ties it all together. The whole scene feels like a lesson in how life supports life, even when it looks messy.

It also nudged me to slow down while reading. Not every scene has to be grand to feel meaningful. Sometimes the tiny, hidden stuff is where the wonder lives.