My favorite thing about Finna is that Nino Cipri could have easily let the jokey premise be the book. It’s pretend-IKEA! There are wormholes! That’s an excellent premise, and I’d have been there for it. Cipri sends Ava and Jules through a fun, imaginative series of worlds, though I’d argue that the worldbuilding for the regular-world side of things is even stronger. When the wormhole opens up, the manager at Ava and Jules’s branch of Not!IKEA — it’s called LitenVärld — puts on a training video about wormholes, and everybody goofs on it and hopes they won’t have to be the one to do anything about it.

“Are we getting overtime for this?” someone else asked.

Ava glanced up long enough to see Tricia shake her head. “Not unless you remain in the other worlds past eighty hours in a single pay period. But! I do have a couple of Pasta and Friends gift cards for the brave volunteers.”

I loled at this bit. Cipri perfectly captures the combination of annoyance and resignation that goes along with working a job like this. You know it sucks. Not having it would suck more. You’re willing to work the fucking job, that part’s whatever; but you’re constantly teetering right on the brink of willingness to go along with management that insists on pretending a fair transaction of work for wages is taking place and everything’s fun and fine. I loved that nobody’s unduly surprised about the sudden existence of wormholes at their shitty retail job. Ava and Jules and all the other employees are just like, yeah, well, this fuckin figures.

All to reiterate: I’d have been here for this book if it had just been its premise! But Cipri uses the short space of a novella beautifully to develop their characters. You’re in on the premise because it’s funny, but you’re in on the characters because they’re sad. Ava’s truly grieving the loss of her relationship, and the things that challenged her and Jules as a couple come back to challenge them again as a wormhole retrieval team. Cipri does a beautiful job of getting the reader in on Ava and Jules as a team without exactly suggesting that they would work as a couple. Neither is it suggested that they can or should work as a couple; Cipri’s thesis about them is that they could be something, given enough time to figure it out. It’s a lovely, hopeful way of thinking about relationships. Ava and Jules’s negotiation of who they are, who they’ve been to each other, and who they might be to each other in the future provides a marvelous emotional underpinning to this extremely fun, queer SF adventure.

Note: I received an e-ARC of Finna from the publisher for review consideration. This has not affected the contents of my review.

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DARYL GREGORY AUTHOR DISCOVERY YEAR CONTINUES. Not only has Daryl Gregory produced another fine piece of science fiction — this one a novella — but I have at last discovered why I love his books so much. It’s cause his wife is a psychologist! (He thanks her in the acknowledgements.) No wonder Gregory wrote about crazy people so brilliantly in Afterparty. No wonder he is always writing about confronting impossible, insane situations with the only available tools (science, therapy) and knowing all along that those tools are nowhere near adequate to the task. What do I love even more than creepy, inventive science fiction? Creepy, inventive science fiction informed by a background in psychology!

Ahem. Sorry. I’ll try to control myself.

The therapy group is composed of sole survivors: the only ones to survive horrific, supernatural incidents. At first only Stan will speak openly about his story, about the cannibals (demon cannibals?) who tied him and his comrades up for weeks and ate them, bit by bit, limb by limb. And the group knows a little — or thinks it does — about Harrison, who was, long ago, the model for a series of books about a teenaged monster-killing hero. Martin refuses to take off his glasses. Greta never lets anyone catch a glimpse of her skin, and Barbara will only say that she was attacked twenty years ago. The group leader, Dr. Jan Sayer, doesn’t push them for more. She’ll let the stories come in their own time.

Your question at this point may be, Do we find out gradually what happened to each member of the group, and is it inventively horrible in each case, and do they ultimately team up to do a mission together to fight against the darkness in their own small way? And the answer is, yes. That is exactly how it goes down. It’s THE BEST. If this were the pilot episode of a show on Syfy, I would set up a Change.org petition for six seasons and a movie.

The characters’ backstories are revealed in fits and starts, sometimes in great detail and sometimes in very little. Like the characters themselves, we aren’t privy to knowing why these things happened to them; only that they happened, and now they are part of that character’s emotional landscape, and must be dealt with. Without some of the details I wanted (who were the Weavers before the demon hybrid thing showed up? How did Barbara come within the orbit of the Scrimshander, and how did she get away?), I kept thinking how much I’d enjoy reading a full book about any of these characters in their lives before they join the group (or, in Martin’s case, after).

Some quick vague spoilers in this section only: I love that we find out at the end that Dr. Sayer has a story of her own to tell. Her own fight not to be defined by her damage turns out to include helping other people to heal from theirs. That is a true thing from real life. Sometimes people respond to the unimaginable pain they have experienced with this exact kind of generosity and grace, and it is remarkable and moving to me.

My only tiny gripe is that the chapters begin with a “we” section, where the group is speaking collectively about itself. This didn’t really work for me. Gregory doesn’t manage to make that “we” feel like an integrated part of the rest of the book, which is all narrated in third person, often from Harrison’s point of view and with detours into Barbara’s and Martin’s.

But really, that’s a small gripe for a novella I overwhelmingly loved. I was heartbroken when it ended, especially as it means that there will be no more new Daryl Gregory for me for a while. Up until now I have had a new Daryl Gregory thing every two months or so. I should have held off on reading one of his books, and saved it for a rainy day. I will just have to do some rereading.

Other Daryl Gregory books I have been excited about this year: Pandemonium, [Devil’s Alphabet was just okay], Raising Stony Mayhall, and Afterparty. I am a scary Daryl Gregory evangelist. (PS Ana please read Afterparty, cause I think you will love it.)

You can read an excerpt from We Are All Completely Fine over on Tor.com, to get the flavor of it. Then if you are interested, Publishers Weekly has good things to say about it, as does Locus. See? Everyone agrees with me. Let me know if you reviewed it too, and I’ll add a link to this post.

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