third novella in the marvellous Singing Hills Cycle, set in a classical orient. full of small tales, but meditating on the limitations of stories to capture what really happened in real life, while musing on their ability to turn what really happened into a greater truth with a life of its own. ( )

As with the other books in this series, Nghi Vo has created a fabulous story about how we collect, transmit, and cherish stories, and what it means to be at the heart of those stories. I found the first third or so somewhat fragmented, as Cleric Chih gathers stories from their travelling companions. The pattern in these stories kind of makes sense at this point, but it is later in the story that the more subtle patterns become clear.

The story focuses on martial stories, with references to fighting styles, sects, and a number of other details that I recognised as relevant, but as this is referencing genres that I only have a passing familiarity with, I suspect I missed details. I suspect that people with a better understanding will find a richly layered tapestry of comments on this, the way I did about how people use story.

content warnings: minor for death and violence. ( )

Short and sweet. Poignant even. ( )

2 years after the publication of the second novella in the series comes the third and we meet Chih and their talking neixin Almost Brilliant again (and Almost Brilliant is even more amusing than in the previous novels). This time our traveling monk/cleric/historian is headed to the Riverlands to try to record the stories of the apparently immortal martial artists of the area. Just as it happened in the previous novellas and as it happens often in life, there were other people traveling the same route - so they decided to travel together and while traveling, some stories got told (and some battles happened).

I'd admit that I was not sure where this novella was going until almost the middle - the language and the style looked different from the lyrical tales that preceded it. There was a reason for that of course and once the stories of the new companions started to get hinted at, things started to fall into place. Part of the difference came from the setting - the open road replaced the much more confined locations of the previous 2 novellas. Which made me stop and wonder - would the start have bothered me as much if I had never read the first two novellas - was my unease because it was different or because it was generally weaker indeed. I am not sure I can answer that one truthfully.

It also seems like Chih is getting more and more involved with the stories they are collecting - from the almost passivity of the first tale through the tigers to here, there is a gradation (which also corresponds with Almost Brilliant getting more and more entertaining). I am not sure if that is leading to a change in the cycle or we are just seeing the author finding her voice more and more. But the result is a lot livelier and adventurous novella than the preceding ones. Which does not make it necessarily better than them - or worse. Just different. ( )

Stories come in all lengths and are spawned from all sorts of ideas, but sometimes all you need to tell a really good one is a creative mind, a bit of inspiration, and a few short pages to write it on. With Into the Riverlands, Nghi Vo tells a short fable with surprisingly deep lore which absolutely begs to be explored with further books, and the format makes it a perfect short read that you can pick up whenever you feel the urge. For me, an hour with this book at bedtime was a positive ending to my day that I realized I could use a lot more of.

It's tempting to wonder why The Singing Hills Cycle, like other series of novellas, couldn't fit into a single, larger novel instead, but the very theme of this book lends itself to short bursts of creativity. It seems to me that Nghi writes novellas in the same way she is inspired, putting as much on the page as her burst of creativity will allow at its peak and never allowing the story to overstay its purpose. In a hundred pages or less you have a novella featuring lovable characters with distinct personalities, clear motivations for every one, and just enough action to balance the exposition.

A novella with padding is an idea too small to be interesting, but in this case, I feel like there is a larger story absolutely screaming to be released into the wild with only its very best aspects making it to the page. There is even enough room to have a chapter dedicated to a historical story within the story, and it all works together to create a novella of the perfect length. I was astounded at how much story could fit into this when I thought back on it the next day, but perhaps the lack of useless padding has helped me retain the big picture and remember more of it.

Of course I wish it was longer, but never at the expense of great storytelling. This novella knows exactly what it is, a burst of creativity that leaves you wishing it could keep going but ending where it needs to. By writing this series of inspiring novellas, Nghi has allowed this series to continue for as long as she feels the urge to write it and has eliminated the need for filler by focusing on each novella as its own story. In its own short way, this is a series which has mastered longevity.

Thanks to Nghi Vo and Tordotcom for providing me with a review copy, it was very much appreciated. ( )