Yes, I’m aware. It’s almost the end of February, not the time you’d generally expect a best-of list for the previous year to appear. But as discussed, I’m blogging when I want to (and when I can), so end-February it is. If you’re a regular, you know I’ve done the fiction and non-fiction lists already. You’d also know that I do not particularly like separating science fiction and fantasy from other types of fiction. However, 2019* was such a good SFF year that I had to do a dedicated post, as there’s so much to talk about. If you cannot handle long posts about murderous robots, lesbians in space, time-travelling warrior lovers and gender-bending magicians, this might be a good time to stop reading.

This is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone. It is a difficult call, but if I had to choose my absolute favourite SFF book of 2019, this novella would probably be the one. I still remember the feeling I had after reading the first few (very short) chapters: I was completely hooked, in a way that’s rare these days. There has been a lot of praise for this unique collaboration and some bafflement too; not everyone gets it. I kind of understand these people, as the form here is rather experimental – it is a story told in letters -; the topic is unusual for the genre – it’s about love -; and the text is both very lyrical and very high concept – there is time travelling and some mental acrobatics is required. On the other hand, I don’t understand these people at all: for me, this was such a pleasure to read both intellectually and emotionally. Writing this paragraph has made me want to reread it immediately.

The Black God’s Drums, P. Djeli Clark. Much of the best stuff currently written in SFF is done in short forms and Clark’s fun novella is another case in point. It was one of my favourites among the Hugo nominees last year – a richly drawn story about African gods and freedom in an alternate, steampunkish New Orleans. I have already commended Clark for writing an exceptionally believable female voice, but I’ll gladly repeat it here.

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir. There was so much hype around Gideon (I mean, ‘lesbian necromancers in space’ must be the best tagline ever) that it almost ruined everything. I was so excited for this book that the first 100 pages left me confused and rather disappointed. Fortunately, it got better and although I still think the breathless reviews are rather silly, I enjoyed the book a lot in the end. I recommend ignoring all the noise and just reading it with as little fore-knowledge as possible. If you don’t mind lesbians, an almost horror-like atmosphere, large amounts of banter and swordplay, feel free to proceed. Keep in mind that this often reads more like fantasy than SF, although part 2 seems to be taking a more space-y direction.

Rosewater, Tade Thompson. Like Gideon the Ninth, Rosewater is an interesting mix of genres, although this is pretty much the only thing they have in common. Thompson’s book is afrofuturistic biopunk with bits of conspiracy, sinister governmental action, first contact and dystopia mixed in. While I didn’t enjoy it as much as some others on this list, the trilogy (now completed, I haven’t read the last one yet) is certainly among the most unique things I’ve read recently. Especially worth checking out if your tastes lean towards Earth-based, near-future SF (which is not really the case with me).

Rogue Protocol, Martha Wells. Out of all the four Murderbot novellas, the second (Artificial Condition) is still my favourite. This doesn’t mean Rouge Protocol (the third) is bad, but I mostly mention it because there is a Murderbot novel coming out in May, so you should work your way through the four novellas before that happens. They are short and funny and it’s difficult not to warm to the sulky AI. Wells writes the cyber and action stuff with such competence and confidence that it makes my tiny feminist heart leap with joy – there are still people who believe that women are not cut out for stuff like this and I want to hit them all with Wells’s books. She was equally good with swordplay in her early fantasy The Element of Fire.

A Memory Called Empire, Arkady Martine. Ah, another good candidate for the favourite of the year. Martine’s book is exactly the kind of thing I like: politically and culturally complex space opera, ideally inspired by relatively obscure historical periods (in this case most clearly by the Byzantine and Mesoamerican empires, so full points).  Empires – both galactic and otherwise – and insanely competent women are two of my favourite tropes in genre literature and in this one, I get both. If you like Leckie and/or Banks, I highly recommend you get your hands on this.

The Man in the High Castle, Philip K. Dick. While I do get through a fair bit of science fiction every year, I’ve got a backlog of classics that I will never manage to eradicate. I’m very glad I finished this one, though. With totalitarianism being on everyone’s mind, this is a timely read, although I feel it’s a rather nuanced and surprising depiction of a world where Nazi Germany and Japan won the war. I’m not a huge PKD fan girl, but I really liked this and can totally see why it’s a classic.

The Winter of the Witch, Katherine Arden. I wrote a longer review about The Bear and the Nightingale when the first book in Arden’s series came out and my thoughts reflect the flavour of the entire trilogy and my feelings towards it pretty well. If anything, I liked the second and third book even better. This is gorgeous entertainment: lovely world building based on Slavic mythology, a great protagonist and a well-crafted plot. I loved the setting, enjoyed the love story and found the conclusion rather satisfying. It’s best read during the winter, but lots of fun any time.

Revenant Gun, Yoon Ha Lee. The fact that this book wasn’t my number one in 2019 shows the strength of the field. Lee’s The Machineries of Empire series is my favourite SF series since Leckie’s amazing Imperial Radch trilogy (Jemisin probably takes the overall crown, but I never think of it as SF). In fact, when it comes to personal enjoyment, I loved Lee at least as much as I loved Leckie, although I admit the latter writes a more well-rounded story. Anyway, I absolutely adore Lee’s world of higher mathematics, even higher stakes and characters who tend to be either partly or entirely psychopathic. The concluding volume isn’t the strongest in the series, but if you liked the first (two), you should read it.

The Hexarchate Stories, Yoon Ha Lee. Although good, this on the picture is in fact the wrong collection. I wanted to feature Lee’s first book, Conservation of Shadows, but couldn’t find my copy anywhere. If your taste in SFF is similar to mine, I urge you to read it regardless of this epic failure of representation. As one would expect from Lee, this is some complex, high-concept stuff and sometimes not easy to fully decipher, but the stories changed my mental landscape for days. Conservation of Shadows has both fantasy and science fiction and a good dose of Korean/Asian influence, which I love. Despite my undying love for The Machineries of Empire (have I mentioned it?), I think the short stories here are often more emotionally powerful. This book doesn’t require any familiarity with Lee’s other work, while the Hexarchate stories I would only read if you are done with the trilogy – they are more of an epilogue than a prologue.

The Ascent to Godhood, J.Y. Yang. Like the Murderbot Diaries, Tensorate is an ongoing, Hugo-nominated series and I want to remind you of its existence. In this case, I suspect the fourth instalment featured here is in fact my favourite. It is another Asian-inspired world, but while Hexarchate could be the far future where people with Korean heritage rule the world, Yang’s universe reads like an alternative Chinese past with magic and a creative approach to gender (come to think of it, Lee – as a trans man – has that element down as well). We get the story of a terrible, now dead empress and her former lover, now the leader of the rebels. Remember what I said about empires and competent women? Exactly.

The Tea Master and the Detective, Aliette de Bodard. Well, I’ve just realised that the last thing on my list is another Hugo-nominated novella with strong Asian influences. But here we are. The heart wants what it wants. While it didn’t win the Hugo in the end, it did get the Nebula – and well deserved. As many people (including me) have said, it’s a gender-swapped Holmes story in space and it’s both fascinating and fun. I have had issues with Bodard in the past, but her Xuya universe (inspired by Vietnam and China) is very much my cup of green tea.

Huh. I guess I’ll be handing out chocolate medals to everyone who managed to get to the end of this list. I promise to write something shorter and more frivolous next, possibly about wearing perfume to bed. If I missed any amazing books from 2019, let me know in the comments.

*Most of the books here were published in 2019, but not all. As always, I cover what I read during the given year, not just the new releases.