Notes from a Regicide

by Isaac Fellman

Notes from a Regicide is a heartbreaking story of trans self-discovery with a rich relatability and a science-fictional twist from award-winning author Isaac Fellman.

When your parents die, you find out who they really were.

Griffon Keming’s second parents saved him from his abusive family. They taught him how to be trans, paid for his transition, and tried to love him as best they could. But Griffon’s new parents had troubles of their own – both were deeply scarred by the lives they lived before Griffon, the struggles they faced to become themselves, and the failed revolution that drove them from their homeland. When they died, they left an unfillable hole in his heart.

Griffon’s best clue to his parents’ lives is in his father’s journal, written from a jail cell while he awaited execution. Stained with blood, grief, and tears, these pages struggle to contain the love story of two artists on fire. With the journal in hand, Griffon hopes to pin down his relationship to these wonderful and strange people for whom time always seemed to be running out.

In Notes from a Regicide, a trans family saga set in a far-off, familiar future, Isaac Fellman goes beyond the concept of found family to examine how deeply we can be healed and hurt by those we choose to love.

Genres: LGBT, Science Fiction, Fiction, Queer, Fantasy, Adult, Transgender

336 pages, Kindle Edition

First published April 15, 2025

About the author

Isaac Fellman is the Lambda Literary Award-winning author of Dead Collections, The Two Doctors Gorski, and The Breath of the Sun.

Reviews

[Siavahda · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you one-star a book before there are even arcs of it I WILL five-star it, sorry-not-sorry.

Later: having now read it, can confirm it deserves ALL the stars!

Rtc!

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

if transphobic freaks are gonna 1-star this without reading it, you'd better believe I will cancel you out

[Bethany (Beautifully Bookish Bethany) · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars rounded up

Beautifully written queer literary fiction with a bit of a speculative twist. Not quite what I was expecting, and not entirely my thing stylistically, but a novel I think will resonate with the right audience. Notes from a Regicide is supposed to be a memoir/biography written by a trans man a thousand years in the future about his adoptive trans parents who were revolutionaries.

This is slow-paced, deeply character driven, not always linear, and ferociously queer and trans. Especially with what is happening politically right now in the United States, this feels like an important statement that trans people have always existed and aren't going anywhere. It's not an easy book- characters deal with oppression, abuse, addiction, mental health struggles and more. And yet in the midst of everything they find love and joy and ways to live more fully into themselves. While I sometimes found this book to be too slow for my taste and sometimes confusing in terms of the timeline, I love what it's doing and suspect that it's going to somebody's new favorite book. The audio narration is well done, and thankfully we get different voices for the narrator and the pieces written by his father before he died. I received an audio review copy via NetGalley, all opinions are my own.

[Maia · Rating 4 out of 5]

In a future so distant it feels like the past, a trans journalist, Griffon Keming, writes about the parents who adopted him as a teenager. They took him away from an abusive home, paid for his transition, and tried to love him and raise him as well as they could but they were deeply damaged by their own pasts. They were both artists and revolutionaries who helped topple a monarchy on the small island kingdom they called home before fleeing to a New York almost unrecognizable to ours. Griffon's narration is woven through a journal written by his adopted father while in prison, suffering from a disabling injury, alcoholism and grief, thinking the love of his life was already dead. This story has an ornate Baroque heaviness to the aesthetic and world building that make it feel like historical fiction despite some science fiction elements. It's a weird, nonlinear book which takes its own time to reveal its secrets and sweetness. I have no idea what to compare it to and I had such a good time with it! At its core it the story of a found family of trans folks surviving, broken but unbowed, systems that sought to crush them. It feels timely and timeless.

[Zana · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a lot more literary sci-fi than I thought it'd be, which unfortunately, isn't really my thing. But I know some of my friends and mutuals would really appreciate this book.

I really liked how this book showed how each of its MCs (Griffon, Etoine, and Zaffre) dealt with their transitions and their trans identities. Each character's journey felt very personal and very real, like I was reading about a friend or an acquaintance's experiences. If not for the soft sci-fi portion, definitely read this if you're looking for trans voices in fiction.

But other than that, I wanted so much more out of the worldbuilding. It's set in the far future, with undead electors who vote in a ruler, and the city state(?) that's mentioned changes names as soon as the new ruler is in power.

There was so much potential with all of this, but instead it's a character study about a couple and their adopted son that could've been written in a contemporary setting without losing anything from the story.

The book does touch on what happened in Etoine and Zaffre's past during the revolution, but it felt very last minute and wasn't enough to whet my appetite. It felt more like set dressing than anything. But then again, I'm the type of person who prefers to read about revolutions instead of the aftermath. If you're more of a lit fic reader, then it might not bother you.

I did like the author's writing though, and I'll definitely check out their previous books.

Thank you to Tor Books and NetGalley for this arc.

[Hal Schrieve · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a book hyperfocused on trans parents-- the sense of "parents" that means "a trans person who rescues another from their birth family". Set in a speculative world that is less a built-out futurescape and more a through-the-looking-glass present (which trans people do love to write about, don't we), it focuses on a t4t couple, both artists, who are living in New York a thousand years from now-- a NYC which seems effectively the same except without electricity, and with an implied relocation/raising, since skyscraper glass ended up in the ocean. The t4t pair are the complex, aged former revolutionaries who killed the prince of their home city-state, a place frozen in a kind of Renaissance drag somewhere in Quebec (?), and the narrative is split between the curated prison diaries of the scraggly-haired, sober alcoholic trans man and the meditations of their adopted trans son on his mentors' strange bond with each other.

The trans woman is the actual revolutionary; the trans guy just killed the prince because he thought she was dead. He got himself together for her; she has schizophrenia and is a genius.

The strength of this book is in its powerful emotional specificity about trans intimacy, and about the boundaries around it, the places it cannot carry us. It is a family memoir, with changed details serving to heighten the truth at its heart-- of people whose pasts are expansive and packed with deeds and misdeeds, who are not perfect mentors because of their own trauma, and who struggle with their own illnesses. The setting isn't really my aesthetic style-- I am much more interested in imaginings of worlds where social hierarchies have changed, rather than stayed the same, in the future-- but I love the very hyperfocused descriptions of art and its meaning in a future-feudal world.

[James 🦤 · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 rounded up. Usually I don’t round up for books under 4 stars, but it’s worth noting the ratings for this book got messed up by people 1 starring it before arcs were even available because it’s focused on trans characters.

I think this book as the potential to be a 5 star for someone, just not me, and I’ll fully own that I think part of it is just me. The concept is amazing and I love watching Etoine, Zaffre, and Griffon’s found family come together. It’s always refreshing to see books about older trans people because I feel like media has gotten caught up in only portraying teenagers and young adults. Outside of the trans thing, the story of the revolution is an interesting one and I especially loved the whole concept of the electors.

My issue ultimately comes with the pacing. I found myself getting bored which is not something you really want out of a book under 300 pages. I understand what the author was going for with the pacing being a bit all over the place, but I don’t think it worked. It made the book feel disjointed in a bad way. In retrospect it wasn’t really a slow paced book, but it felt like it while I was reading.

I really like Etoine and Zaffre, but frequently found myself frustrated or bored with Griffon. I liked getting peeks of their found family and domestic life, but by the end of the book felt like I was suffering through Griffon chapters to get back to Etoine.

I would really like more worldbuilding. I have finished the book and still don’t understand exactly where we’re meant to be (alternate New York? New York in the far future?) Stephensport got a decent amount of worldbuilding, but I still don’t feel like I understand where it is, why it exists, or what exactly the electors are no matter how cool they are conceptually.

[Adeline Gresham · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is not a 5 star book but it’s not a 1 stars book

I think the book needs work

But not cool to give a 1 star at all it not that bad

[Christine Swisher · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was beautiful and powerful but confusing. Throughout the book I constantly went back and forth between absolutely loving it and not understanding what they were talking about, like I had missed an inside conversation.

[KMart Vet · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of those books that welcomes you into its pages and does not apologize for the messy, raw humanity within. This is not a book you rush through. It’s a book you sit with—one that asks you to slow down, breathe, and feel every bittersweet moment. Fellman has crafted something quietly magnificent here: a hauntingly poetic meditation on grief, trans identity, chosen family, and the stories we inherit. Every line feels like a small incision—sharp, aching, and impossibly full of meaning. Each sentence pulls double duty as both narrative and art.

It’s introspective and intentional, with a scifi backdrop that feels almost incidental. The speculative elements add weight rather than distraction. This world feels like ours, just tilted slightly. This is literary fiction with a speculative edge, and it will hit hard if you let it. It’s not always easy—this is a book about loss, and identity, and trying to make sense of a world that’s never offered easy answers—but it is deeply worth the journey.

At the heart of it is Griffon, and his relationship to his second parents—especially his father, whose journal anchors much of the book. The love here is imperfect and sometimes painful, but it’s real—and it asks hard questions about what we owe to the people who love us, who raise us, who break us and build us back up again.

This is literary fiction with a speculative edge, and it will hit hard if you let it. It’s not always easy—this is a book about loss, and identity, and trying to make sense of a world that’s never offered easy answers—but it is deeply worth the journey.

Beautiful, brutal, and resonant. I closed the final page in awe.

Thanks so much to Storygram Tours and Tor for the complimentary copy. This review is voluntary and all opinions are my own.

[Monte · Rating 5 out of 5]

For most of my time reading this book, I thought I’d give it reserved praise in a review. It is slow, and messy, and frequently excruciatingly on the nose. It is also unlike anything else I’ve ever read, which is a pleasure I rarely encounter, and it scours with intensity and honesty experiences that are deeply intimate to me—queer and trans experiences, yes, but also the experience of surviving together while sick, somehow both suffering and thriving at once; of navigating the freezing and burning spots in close familial relationships and friendships that take years, or decades, to neutralize, if they ever do; and of a love so immense it must be gazed at over and over and over to even begin making sense of it. I have never before had the joy of seeing these particular wonders and agonies overturned and tilled with such care in a novel, in a way that spoke to me so specifically. By the end, Fellman broke down all my resistance. The last page had me crying. This book was gorgeous, was a wonder to read, and will stay with me a long, long time.

[Daniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

It’s been a little over a week since I chanced across this. It was one of those “readers also liked” listings down the page of something or other I was looking at, and the cover caught my eye. I didn’t recognize the author. (It turns out I’ve had his novella The Two Doctors Górski for a while but haven’t read it.) The somewhat misleading description appealed to me. Found family, political intrigue, and I’m conscious of needing to read from some other points on the rainbow these days. It was on sale at an impulse purchase price, but none of my GR pals had read it. I’m being more frugal about my book purchases, so I opened it up to sample the prose.

This is the point where so often books fail. They sound appealing, but half a page is enough to move them from hmmm to Hell, no! But Notes from a Regicide is one of the rare books to go from hmmm to Fuck YES! on the basis of a few sentences. (It’s not the sort of writing where I notice the cadences, but it was still very much to my taste.)

The description the publisher gives is very flawed, though I admit, I can’t think offhand of a better one. The titular regicide, the revolution, and Griffon’s angst with regards to his connection to his adoptive parents is very background. The book is framed as a book written by Griffon about Zaffre and Etoine using extracts from Etoine’s journal interspersed with his own recollections, and Etoine was oblivious to the revolution and while Griffon admits to his feelings with regards to the couple, he’s not going on and on about them or giving us the sort of internalized narration that lets a reader feel close to a character.

Griffon gives us something of his own coming of age, and relationship to Etoine and Zaffre, but the focus of the book feels very much on the older pair, and even there, we get only an outside view of Zaffre.

They’re a messy, prickly pair, but I loved them.

The sales copy would also have you believe there’s a “science-fictional twist” but I’m not sure what they’re referring to, and I don’t think any of the science-fiction elements were integral to the story. It would only have taken minor edits to turn it into a fantasy in my opinion.

Which brings me to the book’s main flaw. The handling of the setting. Now, I’ve said it before, but I loathe worldbuilding. When people say the setting feels like another character I run screaming the other way. I don’t give a rat’s ass what the furniture looks like, or how they have strawberries in winter or any of that bullshit. (Ok, you could probably make a good story focused on how they have strawberries in winter. Presentation is everything.) A story should be about people not places, not ideas. All that trash should be limited to the bare minimum required to understand the situation of the specific characters in focus.

So why am I ranting about setting here?

Because the setting is ostensibly a thousand years in the future, but the vibes are very pre-industrial revolution, and Fellman never really sets baseline expectations for the level of technology. Much has been lost, but just what is never made clear, and because of that there were a couple of times quite deep into the book where some technology or technique is referenced that just jolted me right out of the story. Some things need to be given early, or not at all.

This kind of thing jars all the more when the book is doing everything else so well. Still, it’s a forgivable flaw, and I enjoyed the book a lot. Maybe it didn’t give me everything I’d have asked for, and doubtless there was a lot of trans stuff that just went right over my head, but that just suggests to me there’s more than enough going on here to be worth revisiting someday, so I guess I’m rounding up.

[Kat · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of my anticipated new releases for this year. In Notes from a Regicide, Griffon retells the story of his adoptive parents' tempestuous lives in the insular city-state of Stephensport, interspersed with musings on his complex relationship with them. Also, all three are transgender and the plot is set a thousand years in the future.

This is a very odd and original little novel. On the one hand, it's determinedly litfic in its outlook. It's about Griffon reading through his father's memoir, and reflecting on what he saw of his parents as compared to who they were decades ago, and about Etoine's struggles with alcoholism and Zaffre's with schizophrenia. But on the other, this is a book with a complex and delicate framework of SF worldbuilding just below the surface. I won't spoil it all, since half the fun is piecing together what's going on from offhand references, but it's set a thousand years in the future in isolated Stephensport, which is determinedly neo-Baroque, and most sophisticated technology has been lost.

One of the quirks of Notes from a Regicide is that so much of the novel is centered around the building revolution in Stephensport, but the story itself is filtered through Etoine, who is ruthlessly apolitical and is simply not paying attention. Yes, he created the portrait that became the center of a movement, but he doesn't refer to the revolution except in the most offhand asides, despite the fact that Zaffre obviously is knee-deep in it. The focus on the personal and the intimate rather than larger political movements is one of the things that gives the book a distinctly litfic flavor. The reader gets in-depth reflections on Zaffre, Etoine, and narrator Griffon's transitions, but little more than a glancing mention of riots in the streets.

Utterly original, melancholy and intimate. Highly recommended, particularly for fans of Ray Nayler, Jinwoo Chong's Flux, or Premee Mohamed's The Siege of Burning Grass.

[Ren Astro · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars

I thought this was a really solid read. while it didn't completely have that wow factor, there was definitely some sauce in this book. while the prose was clunky at times I felt that was more stylistic because the story centers around two messy and dysfunctional people.

A part of me thought (and wanted) the book would explore trans identity but it didn't. I was a little disappointed at first but realized that's not what this book is about, the characters just happen to be trans.

[Elena Enns · Rating 4 out of 5]

(3.5)

Unapologetically raw and earnest, Notes from a Regicide tells the important story of tragedy, found family, and becoming who one truly is.

[Elisabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this, but it took a while for me to get there. It was very slow-paced without a clear narrative, which isn't necessarily bad, but I think there are good ideas in here that sometimes get a little lost.

[Jon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Notes from a Regicide by Isaac Fellman is the latest in a contemporary movement of literary novels with light science-fiction or fantasy elements marketed as SFF. While it takes place one thousand years in the future and deals with a revolution, it’s not an action-packed thriller or twisty political drama. Instead, it’s a character study of a young trans journalist named Griffon Keming, who is himself chronicling the stories of his adopted trans parents, Etoine and Zaffre, through Etoine’s diary. As the title suggests, we learn early on that Etoine killed the king of his and Zaffre’s original home city, a place called Stephensport that changes names with each new king and is located in what we’d now call Quebec. As the counter-revolution came to crush this one, Etoine and Zaffre flee to New York City to start a new life. But the full extent of their roles in the doomed revolution is spooled out slowly, over the course of the novel.

The real heart and soul of Notes from a Regicide is in Etoine and Zaffre’s relationship, and how these unlikely parents end up informally adopting the young Griffon and helping him to transition and flee from his abusive father. Etoine and Zaffre are a complicated pair. Both are artists and painters, though Etoine is more famous for portraits of the wealthy and powerful while Zaffre prefers to create avant-garde and abstract work anonymously. Etoine is an alcoholic, while Zaffre suffers from schizophrenia, depression, and suicidal thoughts. While both play their part in the revolution, Etoine is mostly apolitical, while Zaffre is a true believer. Fellman is unflinching in showing us the dark and self-destructive sides of his protagonists; though they are undoubtedly better parents than Griffon’s birth father, they never planned on being parents and manage to stumble through a lot of it less than stellar ways. Their romance is not the dramatic, sweeping romance of a traditional romance novel, nor the agonizing slow-burn of a beloved fanfic; instead it feels real and messy and desperate.

The future setting of Notes from a Regicide is only briefly sketched out; it’s a thousand years into the future, and aside from Stephensports legislative branch being a congress of cryo-gentically preserved immortals, the world is mostly unchanged. The wheels of progress and destruction have turned many times, and humanity now lives without computer technology, television, phones, etc., though there exists black market HRT and relatively advanced medicine. We don’t see much of Stephensports or New York City - instead we’re kept relatively isolated in Etoine and Zaffre’s homes. Griffon isn’t out to tell the story of the revolution or provide any context for his world; he’s just here to work through his feelings towards these two people who he loves and who have shaped him so irrevocably.

While the book grapples with questions of art, revolution, parenthood, addiction, and mental health, there’s no theme more prominent than that of its trans characters. Each of the main three characters has their own complicated relationships to their gender and their sexualities, with each coming to their realization and transition at different points in their lives, with different views on medical transition and even different sexualities. Trans relationships can be difficult in some unique ways; what if one or both partners transition to a gender that the other isn’t attracted to? Notes from a Regicide shows one such complication, as Etoine has to learn to see Zaffre as a woman after she confesses her feelings towards him long before she medically or socially transitions. Etoine writes of discovering a new way of having sex, a romantic notion that plays on both every couple’s feelings that they’ve been the first to discover their kind of love, while also grappling with how queer people - especially when first exploring - need to figure out ways of sex and romance that don’t conform to the normal hetero methods.

I admit that it took some time for the book to click with me; like much of this still-unnamed literary SFF movement, it spends most of its time in the thoughts of its protagonists, with writing both beautiful and sometimes rather solipsistic and insular. But through the slow excavation of this central romance, through difficulties both personal and political, I came to really feel for these characters and even cried a little (something that rarely happens for me in books!) It’s one of the more in-depth examinations of trans identity and queer romance that I’ve ever read; if that itself sounds interesting to you, it’s definitely worth a read. However, it’s a hard book to recommend, and most readers will probably bounce off of it. Its light science fiction elements may still turn off more literary-inclined readers, while the same fact that its future feels so similar to our real world may be unsatisfying for SFF fans. Personally, it worked for me, though I do wish Fellman had fleshed out a little more of the background. I think history may repeat in similar cycles, but I don’t imagine a thousand years in the future to be so similar to now.

All in all, this is a wonderful, emotional story of two damaged and flawed people clinging tightly together through turmoil and danger, and of the kid they have to learn how to help.

Thanks to NetGalley for the advance copy in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts expressed are my own.

[dobbs the dog · Rating 5 out of 5]

Received from NetGalley, thanks!

CW: war, injuries, child abuse

Okay, I finished this a couple of days ago and I'm still thinking about it. In fact, it left such an impression on me that I've pre-ordered the hardcover.

I'm not even sure what to say about this story. I see that it's tagged as being Sci-Fi, but it's not really? Other than that it is set in a far-flung future and set in a made up place. Otherwise, I didn't get Sci-Fi vibes from this book at all.

This is really just the story of a family, who found themselves over the years. Griffon ran away from his birth father, who was terrible and abusive, and found a home with Zaffre and Etoine, two married trans artists who had fled their homeland after their intimate involvement with a failed revolution.

It took me a while to get into it, as it jumps around A LOT, from the first person accounts of Griffon to Etoine's journal entries, but once I got into it, I WAS INTO IT.

I found it incredibly moving how Griffon, Zaffre, and Etoine are all trying to do their best for each other, while coming from very different backgrounds and carrying very different traumas. Over the course of the book they all hurt each other in various ways, but their love for each other always comes through.

The ending absolutely wrecked me; it's so beautiful and emotional and just kind of everything.

Also, I listened to the audio and it's narrated by Avi Roque, who I absolutely love as a narrator and who did a phenomenal job of this one.

[Kathryn Siemer · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked up this book on a whim based on the title and my brief glance at the blurb. I had no idea what to expect when I started the book, but within a few chapters, I was hooked.
Fellman’s writing style is absolutely gorgeous. I am in love with it. Much like the story’s artist protagonists, Fellman paints a rich picture with his details and descriptions. Even so, his prose isn’t too flowery or long-winded. Each detail serves a purpose, fleshing out the plot, backdrop, and characters. I also love how Fellman lays out the book as though Griffon himself is writing the book and curating Etoine’s jail diaries. Maybe I’m just a sucker for these kinds of flashbacks and interwoven narratives, but I feel like the book’s style drives the plot more and develops the characters more than typical straightforward stories.
Because the main characters are all trans, Notes from a Regicide naturally touches on themes of transformation. Yet Fellman doesn’t limit his focus on the topic to gender. Etoine’s, Zaffre’s, and Griffon’s transitions are central to their character development, of course, but the book also explores revolutions and societal change, personal growth and decline, and the forces that spur these transformations. Notes from a Regicide highlights that transformation—personal, societal, etc—is an ongoing process, constantly advanced by people and ideas (and art! I loved Fellman’s exploration of art as a medium for transformation).
There’s so much more I could say about this book, but I’ll leave it out for the sake of brevity. Long story short, I highly recommend Notes from a Regicide, and I’ll be sure to check out some of Fellman’s other works.

[John Boykin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Let me begin by saying how happy I am to be a member of Goodreads and a recipient of their free book Giveaways. I was lucky enough to receive this book through the Giveaways program, and I am so very thankful for the opportunity to push on the edges of my comfort zone.
Notes from a Regicide - Review
I admit this book challenged me from the very beginning to step inside the minds and lives of people outside of my everyday interactions. The attitudes, problems and feelings, although recognizable, felt real and poignant leaving me with a duty to self-introspection and a coming to grips with the Trans community. Reading this book became a mission rather than an enjoyable escapist read. The mission was to complete this book and end up with a workable understanding of the Trans people, their lives and their thinking. Mission accomplished. What I did not expect was how strongly I felt about the characters by the end of the book. What started as a dutiful read ended with my personal feelings and emotions about these people being transformed from mere players on the pages, to the people I cared for even loved by the conclusion of this book. My rating is based on how long it took me to get to the point of "wanting to read" versus "having to read". However, I will be thinking about these characters and this book in a for a very long time indeed. Cheers to the author for writing this book. I recommend you read this book and discover for yourself what love in spite of gender or society really means.

[Danielle · Rating 3 out of 5]

*ARC was provided by Tor Publishing Group through Goodreads.

I haven't read many books where the majority of the characters are trans, and this was a surprisingly comforting read for Pride Month. I love how Griffon and his (trans) parents relate to each other, and how this goes into the differences in their experiences being a T4T couple. Trans people have always existed and will continue to exist, no matter the year.

I did struggle a little bit with the sci-fi aspect of the book in terms of understanding what was going on besides a vague dystopian future. I don't need a full backstory, but the speculative aspect is really a backdrop for the characters' relationships.

Overall, will definitely read more from Fellman, especially for the unapologetic trans love and joy so few stories are given.

[Meg · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have been trying to think about how to review this book since I finished it several days ago, but the themes are so expansive and universal, yet somehow very personal that I don't have a successful pitch. It's speculative fiction with a bit of a post-apocalyptic cli-fi feel in the background... but it's primarily a story about love, gender, art, immigration, and political sedition in an imagined country in a future not hard to believe.

I really liked it, in large part because I found all of the characters fascinating. There's some plot, but it largely exists on the periphery of the character work. Griffon is the primary narrator, telling his father's story and his mother's story through his father's prison diaries and storytelling. It's slice of [a very difficult] life, reflections on finding and creating family, and ruminations on art.

I selected this book on a whim, and found it to be really satisfying in a way I can't quite describe.

Thank you to MacMillan Audio for an ALC for review. Notes From a Regicide is out 4/15/25.

[Jeffrey Sullivan · Rating 3 out of 5]

I won this book from a Goodreads giveaway and was excited to read it ever since. Unfortunately the book just didn’t do for me what I was expecting. I found my mind wandering from time to time throughout the book and I feel it’s because the book is an incredibly slow burn.

I do however believe the “t” in lgbt is very under represented in society and that aspect of this book I loved. It’s just not the trans story I was hoping for. The fictional memoir vibes really threw me off and I honestly felt the majority of the book went right over my head. The writing was fantastic, but I ultimately had a hard time comprehending what the book was trying to tell me.

[Ally · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a gorgeous, flamboyant and tragic book. Like Emily St. John Mandel, it rides the stupid yet descriptive line between sff and literary fiction, delivering a beautiful story about parenthood and grief.

That’s maybe also one of the points that can turn a lot of trad sff readers off from the book - it’s not linear, and the lines between Étoine’s memoir and Griffon’s own personal experience aren’t super evident. For me, it works to the advantage of a story about knowing our parents as parts of ourselves (only partially, often unintentionally), but it might not be for everyone. There are times when the language seems pretentious, but it’s all part of the fun and works to the character’s points of view.

Also very trans in a way I haven’t gotten to see before.

[Ryan Mishap · Rating 3 out of 5]

I tried to tough this one out because not only are there some great ideas in here, but the story of Etoine and Zaffre has an importance and depth that resonates in this time of hatred by people who would render trans folks one-dimensional.

Alas, I couldn't jigsaw this together enough for my reading tastes--the speculative fiction elements, the post-disaster future we seem to be in, the melancholy exploration of grief, the artist and revolutionary angle--I felt like too much was going on.

As much as I love genre mash ups, sometimes it is better to write a novel about these complicated people and leave out the fantastical elements, subdued though they be in this novel.

[M Delea · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a while to get into this book. I need more to ground me in fantasy/sci fi/alternate reality books. I still don't understand the electors in the stone yard--are they zombies? Being kept alive somehow? Dead but embalmed in something that keeps them whole? Argh!

Once I accepted that I would not understand parts, I was better. The characters are interesting, especially once we meet people beyond the 3 main characters.

I do not read a lot of fiction in this genre, so perhaps my desire to comprehend more is on me.

[Leslie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This hangs together in a more complete way than Dead Collections, but I wish I had read it in one or two sittings, to really get the whole scope. Reading the first half in bits & pieces means the end sort of lost a bit of its punch. But still a beautiful expression of identity and found family and familial love. I wish there was maybe more (or clearer) explanation of the Stephensport political situation, but the character work really more than won the day.

[Tal · Rating 4 out of 5]

gorgeous gorgeous characters & i loved how it was trans identity in the future and felt like the past and the present and time is a circle! i was a little confused by the timeline / revolution / plot, but the relationships between the characters made it all not matter. i love trans ppl ragh

[Grace · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[DaniPhantom · Rating 3 out of 5]

A perfect sci fi world imo <3