This is an extremely odd book, but an excellent one. I LOVED the first two-thirds, but rather fell out of love with the ending.

----"Have you aligned the donut with the local continuum?"----

The story is that of Katrina Nguyen, a transgender run-away and violin prodigy, who finds herself taken under the wing of Shizuka Satomi, a world-renown violin teacher. Shizuka has been cursed by a demon and must sell her students’ souls to save her own. But Katrina’s humility takes her by surprise, and her growing bond with Lan Tran, a local donut shop owner and alien refugee, makes Shizuka question if there’s another way out and a happy ending for everyone.

The style reminded me quite a bit of All the Birds in the Sky, with science-fiction blended seamlessly (and rather ludicrously) with fantasy. It requires a suspension of belief, but the effect is almost psychedelic. I admit, I grew rather tired with the science-fiction elements towards the end, and would have preferred a purely fantastical novel, but it is what it is and it’s certainly not something I’ll forget any time soon.

----'Here at Starrgate Donut, Lan and her family would safely wait out the fall of the Galactic Empire, continue their work, and live undisturbed, as long as–as Mr. Thamavuong stressed–they gave donuts to the police officers for free.'----

In terms of writing style, I think it bears most similarity to Maggie Stiefvater’s stuff: purposefully bizarre but fundamentally charming, with funny little side stories and short but sweeping side-character histories. The story is told from micro-perspectives, with numerous characters getting paragraph to page-long look-ins (though the majority do go to Katrina, Shizuka and Lan). Initially I felt this helped to keep up the pace and kept the story interesting; later, I was frustrated to be taken from Katrina and Shizuka and felt that it limited my understanding of them.

----'Shizuka had thought she knew all about being damned. Still, she had always assumed that damnation required some sort of exchange. Yet, this student, this human being, had been forsaken not for ambition, nor revenge, nor even love, but for merely existing? Who needs the Devil when people can create a hell like this themselves?'----

My favourite bit about this book was the insights it gave into transgender life and music as an art-form. Aoki doesn’t pull her punches with the horrors that Katrina’s faced as a transgender woman. Trigger warnings include rape and both physical and verbal abuse. What’s saddest, I think, is that these are presented without fan-fare, as if they’re par for the course and an expected part of everyday life. It made me empathise in a way I’ve never been able to before, and I hope to see more stories with transgender characters.

Meanwhile, despite playing the violin for most of my childhood, this book made me see the violin in a whole new light. Fantastical elements aside, I found the deconstruction of the violin and violin music, both literally and figuratively, absolutely magical – it was like watching art. Aoki comes across as both intimately knowledgable on the subject, and in love with the violin herself. Whether this is true, I don’t know. If it's not, it’s even more impressive.

Would I recommend this to others? Yes. It’s quirky and fun, but also gives important and interesting insights into a number of little understood sub-cultures and demographics. I’ll certainly be on the look out for more by Aoki in future, though I’m not sure I’d reread this.

A stunningly gorgeous novel about family and the found families we build for ourselves. How a novel combining violins, a donut shop run by an intergalactic spaceship captain, and a music teacher selling souls to a demon comes together so beautifully, I truly do not know. But rest assured it does. And the book also features exploration of transness and queerness amidst an extremely compelling speculative narrative. There are some dark moments including a lot of transphobia and an instance of sexual assault, but the book still somehow manages to come across as overwhelmingly hopeful.

TL;DR: a wonderful surprise from start to finish

Light From Uncommon Stars is a book you're going to either love or really dislike. Mainly because not a lot happens; generally, that sounds like something I would hate. I don't care for slow books, but this book is fantastic and beautiful, heart-wrenching, and weird. Light from Uncommon Stars centers around three main characters. 1. Shizuka Satomi, who must deliver one more violin prodigy to hell. 2. Katrina Nguyen, a transgender runaway who can change the violin world. 3. Lan Tran, an interstellar refugee, starship captain, and donut shop owner.

As I said, it's a little weird. But this story is so well written and full of complex characters. There are strong women, found family, and donuts. What's not to like there?! But be prepared as this book is also going to shatter your heart. There are times when this book is brutally honest, especially as to the prejudices and hate that transgender people face and the far too often sexual assault that occurs.

Thank you Netgalley for a copy of this ARC.
Light From Uncommon Stars is an emotional, unique, character driven SFF with found family and strong themes of survival, motherhood, and sacrifice. Over the course of several months, the reader wonders if Shizuka will surrender Katrina’s soul, and if Shizuka and Lan will grow to love one another.
I knew I’d love this from the moment I saw that one of the main characters is known as The Queen of Hell. The food descriptions will make you hungry! I love how Katrina’s character trajectory is handled, especially her eventual sisterhood with Shirley. These characters felt so real. The neighborhood felt like it’s own character, due to the care given to explaining how the neighborhood has changed over the years, with restaurants, businesses, and trends. I found the conclusion to be immensely satisfying.
The e-reader format complimented the pacing, in that the pauses in chapters or shifts in scenes were easy to follow, and kept things moving quickly.
Ryka Aoki is definitely a writer to follow.

This was phenomenal and honestly, I think everyone should go into this knowing as little as possible. The story surrounds these three individuals and their lives become more and more intertwined learning about each other, themselves, and what they’re all capable of doing. The ending is where you see everything come together. I was so surprised. I had a feeling the ending would go a certain way; an ultimate sacrifice, but then it was completely thwarted and put a huge smile on my face. It was an incredible ending to finish off such an incredible experience.
Full review to come on YouTube.

I’m not sure what I was expecting when I opened Light from Uncommon Stars, but it wasn’t this. Good Omens meets Catherynne Valente’s Space Opera meets high society violin world drama in this awe-filled, imaginative, absurd story that made my heart sing.
Following a plucky transgender violin prodigy fleeing home, a fierce and legendary violin teacher bound by a deal with the devil, and a donut shop run by alien refugees of an intergalactic war, the incongruous elements of Light from Uncommon Stars coexist very simply. Aoki doesn’t waste time justifying her genre choices because, the longer you read, the less you feel she has to. In a similar way, Ms. Satomi doesn’t waste any time justifying or explaining her student’s gender to the conservative violin community; if you can’t keep up, you’ll be left in the dust. The various elements may seem bizarre and unconnected at first, but the thematic braiding is rich and compelling. Katrina’s struggle for self-determination mirrors Ms. Satomi’s quest for freedom; Lan Tran’s ethical musings and PTSD parallel Ms. Satomi’s guilt and constant fear; Shirley’s identity crisis folds into Katrina’s own cyclical insecurities; Lucía’s painful gender-based disconnection with legacy shadows Katrina’s own anxieties around belonging and Ms. Satomi’s obsession with skill. Every piece of this technicolour puzzle contributes to a breathtaking whole. In contrasting these vastly different experiences, Aoki highlights their emotional commonalities, weaving a story of freedom, music, found family, and the very stuff that makes up our souls.
This sweet, care-centred, and fiercely loving book was exactly what I needed as the academic stress picked up.

DNF at 20%. I can see why so many people love this book so much but it isn’t working for me. The constant jumping between perspectives and flashbacks and current time are jarring and the pacing feels a little slow. Don’t let this stop you though if you’re intrigued by the premise - there’s also a lot to love here! Thank you to Tor books and Netgalley for the advance reading copy.

This book is weird, most definitely. Despite having read the summary when I requested a copy for review, I was extremely surprised when the aliens showed up. I was reading the beginning, thinking, “OK, this girl plays the violin, this violin teacher needs a new student, I see where this is going,” and then, boom! Aliens. It was not what I was expecting at all. But it works.

A blend of fantasy, romance, science fiction, and contemporary elements (and even some magical realism), this book manages to be hopeful and optimistic while not shying away from the realities facing young, queer people of color. Katrina, newly transitioning, has some horrifying experiences and deals with a lot of transphobia. (Note: This book contains depictions of sexual assault, use of dead names, and misgendering.) While not being trans myself, I have seen a few reviews praising the little details about Katrina’s experience, such as rationing her hormone supply and worrying about which bathroom to use.

But as I said, it is also a story of hope. For Katrina finds a place where she’s appreciated when she grabs the attention of Shizuka, a violin teacher with a Faustian deal, one soul short of freeing herself of her bargain and only a year left in which to do so. Shizuka could care less that Katrina is trans, or that her violin was paid for with sex work; all that Shizuka cares about is how Katrina’s playing makes her feel. And yes, she intends to harvest Katrina’s soul to fulfill her contract, but nobody’s perfect.

My brief thoughts are here https://www.bethfishreads.com/2021/11/what-i-read-in-october-part-i.html and also appear on Goodreads. I also reviewed this title for AudioFile magazine

This book absolutely gorgeous testament to music, being true to yourself, redemption, love, and humanity. No review can really capture how beautiful this story is, but Shizuka, Katrina, Lan, Shirley, and the many other perfectly imperfect characters who graced these pages will stay with me for a long time, as they shed a glimpse into what it truly means to be human and the lengths one will go for love. This book was so unexpected, full of Faustian bargains and even alien refugees, but as weird as that concept sounds, they worked so well together to create a highly memorable, emotive, and transcendent story.

I am somewhere in the middle as far as this novel goes. Let me start with what I think ended up doing well. The character development in this novel was fantastic. Not only was I able to sympathize with the characters, but you could see them grow and change throughout the story in a very believable and natural way. This was really done beautifully, so much so that you don't even realize it is happening, that is how natural their growth feels. I felt for them in their low moments and rooted for them in the high moments. I wanted them all to find what they needed in the end.

My issue with this novel, and I feel like it is kind of a big one, is that it felt so disjointed. The writing style was so very confusing that it would pull me out of the story at times and I would find myself scrolling IG Reels instead of reading it.

Overall, this was just okay for me.

I loved how Light From Uncommon Stars offered a blend of different elements (aliens! a curse! a demon! an AI!) that come together to tell a story of love and self-acceptance, healing from trauma, and choosing your own family. The characters are the heart of the novel: Lan, an interstellar refugee who runs a donut shop with her family; Shizuka, a violin teacher who made a deal with a demon; and Katrina, a transgender teen runaway who loves playing the violin. Ryka Aoki’s writing is so lovely, and the way that each chapter alternates between different perspectives in small sections gives this book such a poetic rhythm.

Something I wasn’t expecting is how much food is in this book! Not just donuts, but also the dishes that Astrid makes, the neighbors bringing by fruits and vegetables, and the bakeries that Aunty Floresta visits for donut-making research.

If you’re looking for a book filled with hope, originality, and a love for music, this novel is not to be missed! It was truly a delight, and one of my favorite books this year.

Somehow, this book makes sense. When I say that it’s about aliens and donuts and a violinist and teacher and demons and deals with the devil, and it still makes to sense, that is quite something. Light From Uncommon Stars is impactful and engaging, covering the lives of Lan Tran, an alien escaping from a war ravaged galaxy; Shizuka Satomi, a respected violin teacher who is known as the Queen of Hell, and for good reason; and who is arguably the main character, Katrina Nguyen, a young trans woman who ran away from home and who wants her music to be heard. Not in the way that Shizuka’s past students did; she wants her music to be felt by others; for others to be uplifted by her unique voice. The thing is, Shizuka’s past students had to sign a contract and sell their souls. Katrina understands that Shizuka’s teaching comes at a price but still, Shizuka struggles to make the final deal.

Light From Uncommon Stars is as much a homage to food as it is an homage to the human experience. The amazing sounding dishes, the respect shown to chefs and bakers, as well as the discerning human taste and its ability to draw emotion from food, is so wonderful. Donuts are what allow Lan and her family to blend in among society, and to build the stargate they need to protect from the endplague. They take the original owner’s donuts and replicate them, rotating the donuts whenever sales fall. Somehow, humans can taste the sameness. Humans live for the small things so when those small things begin to lose their luster, they move on. How else can we find joy when human lives can be so monotonous?

I love how Shizuka treats Katrina. She may be older but she is very accepting of Katrina, as is Astrid, Shizuka’s housekeeper. Every time Katrina thinks she’s gone too far, usually by simply existing as a trans woman, and thinks Shizuka will kick her out, Shizuka assures her that, no, she understands as best she can and is still supportive. In fact, she is not content to let Katrina struggle on alone, under her roof. Shizuka will help find the best solution and actually listen to Katrina when Katrina expresses hesitation, especially when it comes to one of their first experiences shopping in public. It is apparent from the beginning that Katrina often doesn’t ‘pass’ as female to the judgmental eye of the general public.

While there are many character POVs, none of them get lost, as well woven as their stories are together. I do feel that Katrina was somewhat a background character for much of the last portion of the novel, the story instead focusing on Shizuka and Lan. Which, a queer love story between the Queen of Hell and a plum colored alien from a different galaxy? Okay. I’m so in for that! I would have loved to see more of Katrina as she gained confidence in her abilities and her body. The love she begins to show towards her body is bittersweet; she will never be what she wants to be, nor be perceived as who she wants to be, but she appreciates her body for what it is and the power it holds, especially as she wields her violin. I love the childishness she shows, though she has been abused and treated badly; she still has this wonder as she discovers new foods and new music.

I recommend this book for lovers of subtle scifi. People who want queer stories that are not solely focused on coming out, but still give that queerness the respect and attention it deserves. Take care with the trigger warnings, however. Sexual assault, rape, transphobia, hate speech, and child abuse are all mentioned and could be triggering.

Thank you to NetGalley and Macmillan-Tor/Forge for an early copy of this book!

A wholly unique and diverse book that pairs fascinating characters with incredibly moving dialogue. I could not put it down.

Shizuka Satomi was once the best violinist in the world—until she lost her talent and made a deal with the devil. Deliver seven prodigies, and get her music back. She’s brought six, but time is running out on number seven…then she hears the music in the most unlikely of places, and begins to rediscover hope and donuts and happiness, and worlds beyond her own. But it’s all going to end if she doesn’t bring that soul to hell…

What makes a violin special is not its fragility, but its resilience

Oh my heart. My heart.

Or maybe my soul? I dunno, but this book has shattered and healed and shattered something again and then healed it once more.

It’s ambitious. Its scope is huge and the cast varied, while at the same time it’s as intimate as staring at your own face in the mirror. It breaks the modern rules of writing—there’s head hopping galore, there’s multiple POVs, there’s everything and sadness and life and death and just. Fuck.

It’s definitely one of my top 10 (5!) reads of 2021, if not the best book I’ve read this year.

It follows three women along their journey to each other (and to themselves as well).

Who needs the Devil when people can create a hell like this themselves?

There’s the incomparably terrifying Shizuka Satomi, legendary violin teacher who grooms geniuses who deliver never before seen musical prowess (and then they die horrifically, but whatever, they’re famous). Who has closed her heart to the world and hardened herself to her mission. Until she meets Lan.

No, you didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to make donuts—but that didn’t mean being a rocket scientist didn’t help.

Lan, retired starship captain, alien, intergalactic refugee and current owner of a donut shop. As Lan struggles to keep her family together and working on an active stargate, she meets Shizuka and realizes there might be more to life than her mission—and that following a recipe exactly (ahem, cloning) doesn’t bring as much joy as something that is imperfectly perfect.

Yet the pond did not acquire more fish. For the older ones…the fiery ones, the brilliant ones, the ones gilded with darkness, and flame, and gold…were also the ones who ate their young.

Katrinia is trans, Asian and probably the best natural musical talent anywhere in the world. She has no formal training, no legacy of teachers to proclaim herself, and a lifetime of abuse, racism and transphobia swelling in her mind. She’s skittish and wary and willing to give her soul away, because what the fuck does she need a soul for in a world that despises her very existence? What use is a soul when you’re hungry and homeless?

Just play and trust her to follow.

And on top of all the emotions, there is music and family and food. There are tangerines and bitter melons (how tf do you serve them? I still don’t know) and Hainan chicken and duck and congee and muesli and boba tea and Eggplant Parmigiana and so many fucking donuts you will not know what to do with yourself.

It is so queer, and sapphic and so Asian and so itself. It is hope and life and death and healing and souls and family and the full breadth and scope of life as a queer person of color. It is video games and Stargate and humor and Youtube and legacy, in all its shapes and the way legacy shapes you. It is pain and suffering and survival at any cost. It is southern California and violinists and bargains you make with demons when you can’t find your own way out.

And yes, I just added this to my favorites.

Please mind the trigger warnings. They are heavy and triggersome, but this book is just so heartwarming and full of hope in spite of how awful life is.

Tomorrow is tomorrow. Over there is over there. And here and now is not a bad place and time to be, especially when so much of the unknown is beautiful.

Trigger Warnings (not complete): racism, homophobia, transphobia, slut-shaming, sexual assault, rape, deadnaming, misgendering

I received this ARC from NetGalley for an honest review

This book had me hooked till the end however, the saccharine ending just didn't mesh with the tone of the rest of the book. I enjoyed the originality of the characters, I never knew what to expect next and the ability to blend reality with science fiction so well that I almost didn't notice was commendable.

It's been a week and I'm still struggling to put how this book made me feel into words. Light From Uncommon Stars has all of my favorite things: completely transportive writing, complicated, messy characters, and pervasive hopefulness.

Katrina in particular has been through a lot of trauma. Some of the abuse she's been able to escape by the book's beginning, and some of it she has to work through on page. As a trans woman, not every situation is safe for her and Aoki reminds us of that often — not without compassion, but she doesn't shy away from the reality either. Even still, there is an undercurrent of light throughout, soothing the aches as they come to pass. It's a visceral experience that I don't frequently encounter.

And then there is Donut Lady and the Queen of Hell. These two women embody such different ideas of feminine strength. One, the dedicated mother, who has (literally) travelled across galaxies to protect her family. The other, an artist with such a pure devotion to music and its craft, that she sold her soul just to hold on to her abilities longer.

Just talking about the characters and the basic set up here do nothing to communicate just how addictive and loving the writing is. If anything about the synopsis sounds interesting, do yourself a favor and just read a chapter or two to preview. I promise you'll be hooked by its brilliance.

Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki is a poignant, heartfelt, and achingly beautiful love letter to music that follows the intersecting lives of three different characters.

- Lan Tran: a captain and an alien refugee operating a donut shop alongside her family.

- Katrina Nguyen : a trans youth who fled to LA with her violin in hopes of making a living for herself.

- A music teacher who, after making a deal with a demon, must deliver Hell 7 souls from music prodigies. Now she only needs one more, and she finds herself mysteriously drawn to both Katrina and strange noises coming from a doughnut shop …

I can see where the Terry Pratchett’s Good Omen comparison in the blurb comes from. This book is charmingly whimsical and zany, and yet, at times it’s also pensive as well and tackles heavy themes such as abuse.

There’s one subplot of the book I could have done without though. You might have guessed from the summary, but there’s A LOT going on in this book. (I mean, we’ve got aliens and a demon!)

While most of the story comes together and wraps up wonderfully by the end, there’s one huge can of worms that feels more like an unresolved afterthought. (view spoiler) For me, this didn’t add anything to the plot and seemed more of a distraction from an otherwise intimate story.

All and all, Light from Uncommon Stars is a queer, messy but beautiful story about three souls banding together and helping each other.

If only heart alone could make a novel great. If only positive themes of hope, transgender and queer identity, and acceptance were enough to lift a story to the skies.

Because if that were the case, Ryka Aoki’s sci-fi/fantasy novel, "Light From Uncommon Stars," would soar to the universe and back. And my task as a book blogger would be considerably easier since I would not be writing this lukewarm review.

But other than making me hanker for donuts and regret giving up the violin in the fifth grade, the novel didn’t do much for me. Its heart and its hope simply weren’t enough to elevate it to excellence.

Katrina Nguyen, a queer trans woman, is a talented violinist who longs to be accepted by her family. After running away from home, she finds herself in a tough spot until she crosses paths with Shizuka Satomi, a famed (and cursed) violin teacher, and Lan Tran, a space alien donut-shop owner.

Sounds quirky, doesn’t it? It totally is – and the quirkiness is delightful. The novel is a joyous celebration of Asian Americans, queerness, space aliens, music, and yummy food.

But it has A LOT going on. In addition to the aforementioned themes, Aoki tackles weightier topics like racism, transphobia, self-harm, rape, and abuse, and "Light From Uncommon Stars" suffers for the too-busy plot. Aoki is unable to devote adequate time and attention to these aspects of the story, resulting in a weak, thinly-stretched narrative and flat characters with minimal growth.

The biggest problem, though, is the novel’s unusual stylistic format. Aoki continually switches character perspective – and I don’t just mean from chapter to chapter. It’s more like, mid-scene and mid-conversation. Every five to ten paragraphs, the narrative is paused by a section break to allow for a perspective shift. It’s jarring, choppy, and distracting. And because I was constantly dropped in and out of the story, I was neither immersed in the narrative nor emotionally connected to the characters.

"Light From Uncommon Stars" is a novel I wish I would’ve loved. And while many of its elements are praiseworthy, more than anything, I found it tiring to read. I was relieved to be done with it.

Donut, anyone?


My sincerest appreciation to Ryka Aoki, Tor Books, and NetGalley for the Advance Review Copy. All opinions included herein are my own.

What does a book about a trans teen runaway trying to find safety in a world hostile to her existence, a book about a music virtuoso who sold their soul to the devil and is about to come to the end of their pact, and a book about alien refugees hiding among us as donut shop employees all have in common? Well, sometimes they have everything in common, because sometimes they are the same book, and on that note, let me introduce you to Ryka Aoki's Light From Uncommon Stars.

That trans teen runaway is Katrina Nguyen, who has left her abusive home and parents with nothing but the beloved violin that she can barely play. Katrina takes up an older queer friend's offer of a sofa to sleep on, only to find that said friend and his housemates are also abusive in a different way. Desperate and without anywhere else to go, Katrina finally gets a break when her violin practice (in a local part) comes to the attention of Shizuka Satomi, a notoriously selective violin teacher who only takes the best, though her pupils seem to both rise and fall with meteoric speed. Shizuka has just rejected the prodigy who everyone expected to become her seventh - and, to her, final - student. But something about Katrina - who is only doing basic exercises - captivates her, and she ends up offering Katrina both a place to stay and a formal violin teacher.

Unfortunately, as you might have gathered, Shizuka has a second agenda: after selling her own soul for talent and fame, she has renegotiated her debt from one soul to seven, and now she needs to find seven students who will make the same bargain as she did and are willing to accept the consequences. So far, she's justified luring six children into demonic pacts because they receive the benefits of fame and glory that they desperately want. But, from the outset, her relationship with Katrina seems to be on a different footing: here is a student who hasn't had any of the chances that her violinist peers take for granted, with the potential to outshine them all. What Shizuka offers, first and foremost, is safety. She doesn't understand Katrina's challenges or traumas, and she frequently fucks up when she makes assumptions about how the outside world will treat a non-passing trans teen girl, but she perseveres and spends a lot of time making Katrina feel comfortable and seen in a way that goes beyond bringing out her artistic talent. Shizuka's past is immensely problematic, and her conflicted intentions with Katrina equally so, but somehow through sheer force of characterisation, what could have been a predatory relationship becomes something much warmer, with far more room for mutual growth.

Rounding out the trio of protagonists is Shizuka's other chance encounter: this one with Lan Tran, donut shop owner and refugee starship captain (also, the ship is now the donut shop). Lan and her family are biding their time, using the onboard replicator to create donuts from the shop's original owners and trying to blend in to Californian life. Shizuka and Lan have an extremely adorable meet-cute over the need for a bathroom, and this quickly evolves into romantic feelings which are explored further over the course of the novel, through the many twists and turns of their lives. While Lan's story feels more peripheral to Katrina and Shizuka's dilemma, Aoki somehow weaves her intergalactic perspective, and the personalities and challenges of her children, into the fabric of the story in a way which just makes the whole blend work. (It also provides all the pieces for an excellent climax and a nice ending befitting the overall tone of the novel).

Now, I don't want to be out here still trying to make "hopepunk" happen when I think the genre community has decided it's not going to happen, but Light From Uncommon Stars seems to really fit what that genre tag is aiming for. It's a story where things are often bleak, and traumatic things happen (there is on-page rape, multiple forms of abuse and transphobia, and a really unpleasant murder-disappearance involving some side characters) but the core relationships are about kindness and basic human (or alien) decency, and how people can try to uphold those values and carve out space for themselves to be. And that's a state that everyone deserves, whether you're an abuse survivor trying to catch a break or a parent worried about the decisions of your kids or even, maybe, someone who has got themselves into a sticky situation through past mistakes. Where Katrina and Lan and Shizuka - and many of the supporting characters - intersect is in learning how to move past survival and towards being able to create and share and be successful. It's a concept encapsulated in the descriptions of the Endplague, the catastrophic galactic event Lan and her family have run from, which is not a physical malady but something far more existential.

A little note on writing style. Aoki's style breaks scenes up into vignettes, putting in section breaks even when a scene carries on immediately afterwards with the same character, enforcing its emotional pauses and beats. It takes a bit of getting used to but it really underlines when something in a scene has changed the context or the world for the character experiencing it, forcing the audience pause with them as their reality adjusts itself and then pick back up where we left off. In other circumstances I could see myself finding this style difficult to get on with, but here it really, really works. I don't know why, but it's quirky and delightful without being intrusive, and something about it fits the style of Light From Uncommon Stars very well.

In short, this is a wonderfully quirky ensemble piece, with a character at its heart who deserves everything and is ultimately given... well, enough. Read it.