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Quill and Still
The beloved slice-of-queer-life debut which reviewers described as “Like opening up a pulp fiction novel and getting Milton's paradise lost” with “a nearly Neil Gaiman approach to mythology” set in a deep, complex world you’ll wish you could live in.
Sophie Nadash once yearned to understand life and chemistry. Now a disillusioned scientist approaching middle age, she yearns to set aside pipettes and polymerase forever.
A chance encounter with the Goddess Artemis sets her on the path to becoming the Alchemist for the rural Shemmai village of Kibosh, where the rat race gives way to peace and the quiet life. Freed from the hustle of Earth, she can relax, make friends, and rediscover her love for chemistry through its mystical precursor... and come to grips with the Jewish faith she left behind as a child.
Aaron crafts an interesting, vibrant world to explore. A slow life fantasy about civics, science, and a city above a dungeon. -Casualfarmer, author of Beware of Chicken
This is the story I never knew I’d always wanted to read, in a world I never knew I’d always wanted to inhabit. Among high-concept fantasy conceits, ‘what if a society was built to maximize decency’ sounds almost banal to describe, until you see it actually executed well and realize just how subversive that idea is. You deserve to read Quill & Still. -D. D. Webb, author of The Gods are Bastards
A perfect read for lovers of cozy, slice-of-life fiction in the vein of Becky Chambers’s “Records of a Spaceborn Few” or Jo Walton’s “Lifelode”. Don’t miss out on this rich and colorful tapestry that weaves together civics, chemistry, magic, and an off-the-path Judaism to form Sophie’s first entry into a new world.
Sophie Nadash once yearned to understand life and chemistry. Now a disillusioned scientist approaching middle age, she yearns to set aside pipettes and polymerase forever.
A chance encounter with the Goddess Artemis sets her on the path to becoming the Alchemist for the rural Shemmai village of Kibosh, where the rat race gives way to peace and the quiet life. Freed from the hustle of Earth, she can relax, make friends, and rediscover her love for chemistry through its mystical precursor... and come to grips with the Jewish faith she left behind as a child.
Aaron crafts an interesting, vibrant world to explore. A slow life fantasy about civics, science, and a city above a dungeon. -Casualfarmer, author of Beware of Chicken
This is the story I never knew I’d always wanted to read, in a world I never knew I’d always wanted to inhabit. Among high-concept fantasy conceits, ‘what if a society was built to maximize decency’ sounds almost banal to describe, until you see it actually executed well and realize just how subversive that idea is. You deserve to read Quill & Still. -D. D. Webb, author of The Gods are Bastards
A perfect read for lovers of cozy, slice-of-life fiction in the vein of Becky Chambers’s “Records of a Spaceborn Few” or Jo Walton’s “Lifelode”. Don’t miss out on this rich and colorful tapestry that weaves together civics, chemistry, magic, and an off-the-path Judaism to form Sophie’s first entry into a new world.
378 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 1, 2023
55 people are currently reading
106 people want to read
About the author
Aaron Sofaer
2 books4 followersAaron lives in California, working as a software developer while muttering enviously about the superiority of walkable communities and countries with vastly better support for raising children.
Having had the Path of the Writer unlocked by the mid-life acquisition of an awesome rainbow hat, Aaron is now trying to inflict thirty years of arguing about civics and public policy at the Shabbat table onto readers seeking fantasy novels. Rumors that the devastating smirk masks a series of deep, dark secrets are entirely unsubstantiated—all such secrets are all-too-shallow and prone to being shared at the drop of a pin.
Having had the Path of the Writer unlocked by the mid-life acquisition of an awesome rainbow hat, Aaron is now trying to inflict thirty years of arguing about civics and public policy at the Shabbat table onto readers seeking fantasy novels. Rumors that the devastating smirk masks a series of deep, dark secrets are entirely unsubstantiated—all such secrets are all-too-shallow and prone to being shared at the drop of a pin.
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Displaying 1 - 13 of 13 reviews
February 3, 2024
This was such a lovely surprise of a LitRPG - read on the recommendation of CasualFarmer, author of Beware of Chicken. I don't think I have come across a LitRPG that I would call anything close to literary or philosophical (it's hard to wax poetic or dig into ethics when Might Makes Right), but Quill and Still really scratched an itch I didn't know I had. It also so clearly comes from such a deeply personal place that, even when I wasn't gripped by a lengthy debate on civics, or when characters had conversations that didn't quite jibe with how I think about relationships, I still felt the author's passion. It was also lovely to see a complex relationship to Judaism in this genre (totally unexpected), and something I definitely think about a lot in my own life.
That being said, I do hear the criticisms of the writing being, at times, a bit dense or overly writerly. There were definitely sections that I had to read multiple times to parse.
Otherwise, I don't know that I would call this a Slice of Life - while the stakes are mostly internal and personal, I think Book 1 takes place over perhaps a 3-4 day window (or less). I would certainly call it Hopepunk or, more accurately, Cozy Fantasy.
I will definitely pick up Book 2.
That being said, I do hear the criticisms of the writing being, at times, a bit dense or overly writerly. There were definitely sections that I had to read multiple times to parse.
Otherwise, I don't know that I would call this a Slice of Life - while the stakes are mostly internal and personal, I think Book 1 takes place over perhaps a 3-4 day window (or less). I would certainly call it Hopepunk or, more accurately, Cozy Fantasy.
I will definitely pick up Book 2.
December 27, 2023
Good story, but…
I really liked the story but the author used too many complicated and advanced words that made it hard to read. If it was just the dialogue and was part of the characters personality or culture I would support it. But the author used it everywhere and it was so unnecessary. An example sentence from the book “The dismissal was unambiguous, and we nigh-on fled the building, almost euphoric in our reprieve.” This wasn’t dialogue, just a narration of the situation.
I got about 2/3rds of the way through the book before I could not deal with the headache anymore. The author used unnecessarily complicated language and they had extremely long, sometimes run-on, sentences. I really liked the story buried in the overwritten pages, but I couldn’t understand enough to really enjoy it.
TLDR: Bad writing choices made a good story too hard to read.
I really liked the story but the author used too many complicated and advanced words that made it hard to read. If it was just the dialogue and was part of the characters personality or culture I would support it. But the author used it everywhere and it was so unnecessary. An example sentence from the book “The dismissal was unambiguous, and we nigh-on fled the building, almost euphoric in our reprieve.” This wasn’t dialogue, just a narration of the situation.
I got about 2/3rds of the way through the book before I could not deal with the headache anymore. The author used unnecessarily complicated language and they had extremely long, sometimes run-on, sentences. I really liked the story buried in the overwritten pages, but I couldn’t understand enough to really enjoy it.
TLDR: Bad writing choices made a good story too hard to read.
May 27, 2025
[Note: I received a free copy of the audiobook for review purposes, with no conditions attached.]
To read _Quill & Still_ by Aaron Sofaer (she/her) is to discover a revolution fought not with swords or spells, but with intake forms and breakfast routines—a village where every stone house stands by mutual agreement (and where the enchanted toilets probably have union representation). Whatever Sophie expected, what she gets is smaller and stranger: lessons in which spoon goes where, forms to fill out in triplicate, and the slow realization that utopia might actually require reading the manual. The text pours like morning coffee into mismatched mugs: strong, necessary (for some of us), and communal. Yet Sofaer refuses easy comfort: refectory seating charts bristle with social calculus, First Friends must balance instruction against indoctrination, and even kindness can be complicated by paperwork.
At the core of _Quill & Still_ sits a society that makes care work into infrastructure, not afterthought: First Friends clock in with pension plans and sick days, grumble through System Experience metrics, forget to file proper forms—all while taking real pride in guiding newcomers through what would otherwise be an impenetrable civic maze. This isn't utopia as decoration—it's decency built into blueprints. Sofaer transforms bureaucracy from burden to liturgy, makes filing forms an act of faith. Here, paperwork becomes prayer, administration becomes devotion, and even questionnaires carry the weight of covenant. Somehow, this is complimentary?
Sofaer crafts sentences like someone carefully setting a table—she places each word precisely, and each clause considers what came before while making space for what follows. Her characters speak in conversations that double back, question themselves, reach for better words when first attempts fall short. Even the municipal becomes musical—inventory numbers click against ledger notes, footfalls along corridors keeping quiet time. When Sophie's body changes through healing magic, there's no grand revelation scene—just the quiet recognition of rightness, the freedom of physical comfort suddenly possible. That's this book's most subversive move: to make what should be ordinary feel radical. To remind us how rarely our world makes room for our bodies to simply exist without struggle.
These measured delights might frustrate readers whose pulses race for plot twists and dramatic battles, whose eyes hunt for magic diagrams and epic confrontations. For every reader who savours the queer kinship that's built cup by shared cup, another might restlessly fidget through detailed discussions of bowl placement and coin customs. Sofaer trusts you to find meaning in both silences and explanations. It's a risky gambit that's both revolutionary and potentially alienating, and what saves it is her concrete precision. Each ritual matters because someone needs it. Each custom earns its page through lived consequence.
Here's the book's most artful move: it withholds explanation until necessity makes its absence felt. No ritual gets justified until someone asks "why do we do this?" No system gets mapped until navigation becomes necessary. Understanding comes only to those who join the daily practice—who listen for what's left unsaid between spoonfuls of stew, who notice how shoes brush against freshly swept thresholds. When Sophie mentions parental estrangement or her complicated relationship with her body, she meets neither diagnostic questions nor therapeutic platitudes—just practical solidarity. A seat at the table comes before biography. A bed before backstory. Trust grows through gesture, not confession; belonging develops through presence, not performance. The village doesn't demand Sophie's trauma as entry fee.
Who might thrive here? Readers of Becky Chambers seeking sharper social grain, fans of Addison trading court intrigue for queue-line kinship, those who find poetry in logistics. Who should pause? Anyone needing plot over process, crisis over care—readers who expect dramatic tension rather than documentary patience.
I close _Quill & Still_ wondering what this says about us—the readers who need our utopias explained in triplicate. Sofaer shows us a world that runs on radical transparency, but we live in one where every answer costs us something. Is that why Sophie's careful education feels both foreign and necessary? Because we've forgotten what it means to have systems it's safe to trust? Because it feels impossible to believe that paperwork could possibly serve people rather than power?
There's a melancholy in imagining a world where kindness requires no explanations—and knowing how far we stand from it. Sofaer offers something better than easy answers: a map of what decency looks like when it's designed, not just dreamed of.
[A note on the audiobook: Avalon Penrose brings a warmth to this text that complements Sofaer's measured prose. Her pacing lets listeners absorb the book's quieter moments, while her energetic character work subtly distinguishes voices without overplaying differences—exactly the kind of careful attention the story itself celebrates.]
To read _Quill & Still_ by Aaron Sofaer (she/her) is to discover a revolution fought not with swords or spells, but with intake forms and breakfast routines—a village where every stone house stands by mutual agreement (and where the enchanted toilets probably have union representation). Whatever Sophie expected, what she gets is smaller and stranger: lessons in which spoon goes where, forms to fill out in triplicate, and the slow realization that utopia might actually require reading the manual. The text pours like morning coffee into mismatched mugs: strong, necessary (for some of us), and communal. Yet Sofaer refuses easy comfort: refectory seating charts bristle with social calculus, First Friends must balance instruction against indoctrination, and even kindness can be complicated by paperwork.
At the core of _Quill & Still_ sits a society that makes care work into infrastructure, not afterthought: First Friends clock in with pension plans and sick days, grumble through System Experience metrics, forget to file proper forms—all while taking real pride in guiding newcomers through what would otherwise be an impenetrable civic maze. This isn't utopia as decoration—it's decency built into blueprints. Sofaer transforms bureaucracy from burden to liturgy, makes filing forms an act of faith. Here, paperwork becomes prayer, administration becomes devotion, and even questionnaires carry the weight of covenant. Somehow, this is complimentary?
Sofaer crafts sentences like someone carefully setting a table—she places each word precisely, and each clause considers what came before while making space for what follows. Her characters speak in conversations that double back, question themselves, reach for better words when first attempts fall short. Even the municipal becomes musical—inventory numbers click against ledger notes, footfalls along corridors keeping quiet time. When Sophie's body changes through healing magic, there's no grand revelation scene—just the quiet recognition of rightness, the freedom of physical comfort suddenly possible. That's this book's most subversive move: to make what should be ordinary feel radical. To remind us how rarely our world makes room for our bodies to simply exist without struggle.
These measured delights might frustrate readers whose pulses race for plot twists and dramatic battles, whose eyes hunt for magic diagrams and epic confrontations. For every reader who savours the queer kinship that's built cup by shared cup, another might restlessly fidget through detailed discussions of bowl placement and coin customs. Sofaer trusts you to find meaning in both silences and explanations. It's a risky gambit that's both revolutionary and potentially alienating, and what saves it is her concrete precision. Each ritual matters because someone needs it. Each custom earns its page through lived consequence.
Here's the book's most artful move: it withholds explanation until necessity makes its absence felt. No ritual gets justified until someone asks "why do we do this?" No system gets mapped until navigation becomes necessary. Understanding comes only to those who join the daily practice—who listen for what's left unsaid between spoonfuls of stew, who notice how shoes brush against freshly swept thresholds. When Sophie mentions parental estrangement or her complicated relationship with her body, she meets neither diagnostic questions nor therapeutic platitudes—just practical solidarity. A seat at the table comes before biography. A bed before backstory. Trust grows through gesture, not confession; belonging develops through presence, not performance. The village doesn't demand Sophie's trauma as entry fee.
Who might thrive here? Readers of Becky Chambers seeking sharper social grain, fans of Addison trading court intrigue for queue-line kinship, those who find poetry in logistics. Who should pause? Anyone needing plot over process, crisis over care—readers who expect dramatic tension rather than documentary patience.
I close _Quill & Still_ wondering what this says about us—the readers who need our utopias explained in triplicate. Sofaer shows us a world that runs on radical transparency, but we live in one where every answer costs us something. Is that why Sophie's careful education feels both foreign and necessary? Because we've forgotten what it means to have systems it's safe to trust? Because it feels impossible to believe that paperwork could possibly serve people rather than power?
There's a melancholy in imagining a world where kindness requires no explanations—and knowing how far we stand from it. Sofaer offers something better than easy answers: a map of what decency looks like when it's designed, not just dreamed of.
[A note on the audiobook: Avalon Penrose brings a warmth to this text that complements Sofaer's measured prose. Her pacing lets listeners absorb the book's quieter moments, while her energetic character work subtly distinguishes voices without overplaying differences—exactly the kind of careful attention the story itself celebrates.]
June 6, 2025
I may be a melodramatic, angst-loving bitch when it comes to books, but never let it be said I don't try things outside of my comfort zone.
"Quill and Still," by Aaron Sofaer is a cozy LitRPG following a woman that stumbles across a goddess in the woods. Because of divine rules, the goddess can't send Sophie back to her own world alive. But she can send her to another one entirely. One that just happens to have RPG mechanics. There, Sophie starts the process of picking a class and settling into her new life. Emphasis on "starts." By the end of 360 pages, she's only been there for a couple days and has only just picked her class. Book one appears to be all tutorial.
Full transparency: I don't tend to enjoy cozy books as a rule. I usually find them meandering and lackluster in emotional depth. But LitRPG is a genre well known for character progression. My hope was that the mechanics would maintain a feeling of direction and progress that cozy alone struggles to maintain. The thing is, this book is less "cozy LitRPG" and more "COZY (litrpg)." While the synopsis explains that Sophie becomes an alchemist, she only makes two potions during the book. Granted, the process used hyper scientific language and I just gave up trying to understand it after the first one. But there's much more talk of leveling up than actual level ups.
In fact, most of the book is talking. Sophie walks with "First Friend" Kelly around the quaint walled village and talks about the worldbuilding. A decent amount of exposition is necessary for the genre, sure, but this book was expositing constantly, nearly the entire time. Even the epilogue had a side character expositing on fantasy cultures. And so much of the exposition was either completely unnecessary or could be saved for much later. Most LitRPG readers will trust that the protagonist has picked the best class for them, so an in-depth conversation on why she wouldn't have been happy picking a slightly different variant of the Alchemist class felt gratuitous. There are also whole conversations about much higher levels that would have been better served when Sophie was closer to reaching them.
It doesn't help that a lot of the character feel either condescending or outright unkind when explaining things. The condescension could come from the writing style. There are a slew of large words used in unnatural ways and regular paragraphs of discussion on the most minute of details, like how certain words in English translate into the fantasy languages. It's not quite purple prose (although the System descriptions definitely are.) Instead, it felt more clinical? Philosophical? It's hard to nail down, but it definitely wasn't an easy-to-follow style.
My biggest gripe is how all the side characters seem to have little compassion for Sophie as a newcomer. They know she's a "Traveler" and how completely new she is to this world. And yet, it felt like people were snapping at her constantly for not knowing things. My reading notes are filled with more than one "wait, why is everyone mad?"
The "First Friend" Kelly, is the worst for it. She's the resident tutorial giver and the character Sophie spends the most time with. The narrative attempts to explain that she has some blind spots, but is overall great at her job. Except she lets herself get easily distracted by Sophie's questions, then gets mad at the newbie for asking said questions. There's a huge argument because Sophie did not immediately understand her new religious obligations. At another time she's angrily poking Sophie all over because Sophie... accidentally gave herself a headache. She'd been ignoring a pop up from the "System" (that she'd only been using for two days), which made her head hurt and that was enough to make Kelly genuinely angry. Later, you discover Kelly kept secret a gigantic issue about Sophie's divine patrons that could have caused huge problems our protagonist. But she's supposed to be great at walking newbies through the basics.
At it's bare bones, the set up of the world is intriguing and the concept of "making potions for adventurers" does have true potential for a Legends and Lattes style cozy fantasy. But Sophie is so busy listening to exposition, she barely gets her shop set up and only makes one sale. In fact, the LitRPG elements are virtually abandoned partway through for yet more expositions on divine histories and cultural mores. I would still love to give cozy LitRPG another try, but I don't think I'll be continuing with this one.
"Quill and Still," by Aaron Sofaer is a cozy LitRPG following a woman that stumbles across a goddess in the woods. Because of divine rules, the goddess can't send Sophie back to her own world alive. But she can send her to another one entirely. One that just happens to have RPG mechanics. There, Sophie starts the process of picking a class and settling into her new life. Emphasis on "starts." By the end of 360 pages, she's only been there for a couple days and has only just picked her class. Book one appears to be all tutorial.
Full transparency: I don't tend to enjoy cozy books as a rule. I usually find them meandering and lackluster in emotional depth. But LitRPG is a genre well known for character progression. My hope was that the mechanics would maintain a feeling of direction and progress that cozy alone struggles to maintain. The thing is, this book is less "cozy LitRPG" and more "COZY (litrpg)." While the synopsis explains that Sophie becomes an alchemist, she only makes two potions during the book. Granted, the process used hyper scientific language and I just gave up trying to understand it after the first one. But there's much more talk of leveling up than actual level ups.
In fact, most of the book is talking. Sophie walks with "First Friend" Kelly around the quaint walled village and talks about the worldbuilding. A decent amount of exposition is necessary for the genre, sure, but this book was expositing constantly, nearly the entire time. Even the epilogue had a side character expositing on fantasy cultures. And so much of the exposition was either completely unnecessary or could be saved for much later. Most LitRPG readers will trust that the protagonist has picked the best class for them, so an in-depth conversation on why she wouldn't have been happy picking a slightly different variant of the Alchemist class felt gratuitous. There are also whole conversations about much higher levels that would have been better served when Sophie was closer to reaching them.
It doesn't help that a lot of the character feel either condescending or outright unkind when explaining things. The condescension could come from the writing style. There are a slew of large words used in unnatural ways and regular paragraphs of discussion on the most minute of details, like how certain words in English translate into the fantasy languages. It's not quite purple prose (although the System descriptions definitely are.) Instead, it felt more clinical? Philosophical? It's hard to nail down, but it definitely wasn't an easy-to-follow style.
My biggest gripe is how all the side characters seem to have little compassion for Sophie as a newcomer. They know she's a "Traveler" and how completely new she is to this world. And yet, it felt like people were snapping at her constantly for not knowing things. My reading notes are filled with more than one "wait, why is everyone mad?"
The "First Friend" Kelly, is the worst for it. She's the resident tutorial giver and the character Sophie spends the most time with. The narrative attempts to explain that she has some blind spots, but is overall great at her job. Except she lets herself get easily distracted by Sophie's questions, then gets mad at the newbie for asking said questions. There's a huge argument because Sophie did not immediately understand her new religious obligations. At another time she's angrily poking Sophie all over because Sophie... accidentally gave herself a headache. She'd been ignoring a pop up from the "System" (that she'd only been using for two days), which made her head hurt and that was enough to make Kelly genuinely angry. Later, you discover Kelly kept secret a gigantic issue about Sophie's divine patrons that could have caused huge problems our protagonist. But she's supposed to be great at walking newbies through the basics.
At it's bare bones, the set up of the world is intriguing and the concept of "making potions for adventurers" does have true potential for a Legends and Lattes style cozy fantasy. But Sophie is so busy listening to exposition, she barely gets her shop set up and only makes one sale. In fact, the LitRPG elements are virtually abandoned partway through for yet more expositions on divine histories and cultural mores. I would still love to give cozy LitRPG another try, but I don't think I'll be continuing with this one.
March 1, 2025
I did enjoy this book quite a bit. I liked the slice of life approach to a LitRPG. I also like that Sophie is basically a normal person and therefore really shouldn't be into the dungeon delving that a lot of similar books push. There is so much depth to the world we encounter. The majority of the book would qualify as worldbuilding. Not a lot actually takes place in the three days we're with Sophie, but we are bombarded with information. This is hopefully just the foundation for the continuing series, because if all the books are this information dense with such little actually happening it will be supremely disappointing. I do look forward to book two when it comes out. Hopefully with more time passing and Sophie figuring things out with either Kelly or Ketka. (Fingers crossed for Ketka.)
But it was a bit odd and there were several things that were off to me. Nearly any time there was a sudden change in the conversation because someone gave offense or something...I could not for the life of me figure out what had set everyone off, but the author treated it like it was plain as day without really explaining it. Which as much as they wax poetic about everything else is just rude. I feel like a lot of the story got buried in the minutia of details that weren't actually that important to moving the story along. I did not need the full rundown of the steps of safety taken to create a dangerous potion, while skipping the actual creation of said potion. The author gets caught up in very tiny details that anyone else would skip over and move the story along faster. Things that probably should have been skipped over. I don't agree with some of the other reviews that the author's use of language was exaggerated or difficult. Honestly how else are we expected to expand our vocabulary and knowledge if we aren't exposed to new words and definitions?
Lastly, based on other works online this author has published as well as some of the comments made by Sophie, I feel like Sophie is supposed to be trans. But, like any other kind of representation, if it is not explicitly stated it is easily glossed over and doesn't really count as representation. I hope the author clears that up moving forward in a definitive fashion.
But it was a bit odd and there were several things that were off to me. Nearly any time there was a sudden change in the conversation because someone gave offense or something...I could not for the life of me figure out what had set everyone off, but the author treated it like it was plain as day without really explaining it. Which as much as they wax poetic about everything else is just rude. I feel like a lot of the story got buried in the minutia of details that weren't actually that important to moving the story along. I did not need the full rundown of the steps of safety taken to create a dangerous potion, while skipping the actual creation of said potion. The author gets caught up in very tiny details that anyone else would skip over and move the story along faster. Things that probably should have been skipped over. I don't agree with some of the other reviews that the author's use of language was exaggerated or difficult. Honestly how else are we expected to expand our vocabulary and knowledge if we aren't exposed to new words and definitions?
Lastly, based on other works online this author has published as well as some of the comments made by Sophie, I feel like Sophie is supposed to be trans. But, like any other kind of representation, if it is not explicitly stated it is easily glossed over and doesn't really count as representation. I hope the author clears that up moving forward in a definitive fashion.
June 26, 2025
I think this book will really, really work for some people, and just not quite connect for others.
Unfortunately, and confusingly, I'm not sure in which of those camps I find myself.
I dig philosophy and long discussions about increasingly abstruse topics. I dig systems, Systems, and so on; I dig extensive worldbuilding; I dig isekai LitRPG progression fantasy cosy wotsits. I dig queer representation that makes a character's queerness an integral part of who they are, but allows their story not to be about that because they deserve to be any kind of person they like and not, you know, a character whose only trait is queerness; I dig main characters in their thirties and forties.
Quill and Still has all of those things. What it doesn't really have is a story, and perhaps that's where the disconnect is. I've read a fair few things now that started life as web serials, so you'd think I'd be used to the different pacing, where things generally get longer to breathe and there are just fewer things happening; I've also read quite a few long and dense non-fiction books that really are just extended treatises on whatever topic, so you'd think I'd be OK with that. Somehow, this hits a point somewhere in the middle that just wasn't quite the experience I was after at that moment.
Which is fine, by the way. It might be for you! Heck, it might even be for me next month or next year or whatever. Just be aware what to expect, I guess: you'll follow Sophie, whom I do actually like very much, as she meets a lot of characters and learns a lot about the world in which she's found herself, and that is pretty much the entirety of the book. A lot of thought's obviously gone into how everything works, which is admirable, but if you're someone who prefers to learn how a world functions through reading action and adventures and being shown the rules that way, rather than having them explained to you at great length in almost Plato-esque extended dialogues, this might not scratch your itch. But if you do like the latter kind of thing, you'll quite possibly love this!
Unfortunately, and confusingly, I'm not sure in which of those camps I find myself.
I dig philosophy and long discussions about increasingly abstruse topics. I dig systems, Systems, and so on; I dig extensive worldbuilding; I dig isekai LitRPG progression fantasy cosy wotsits. I dig queer representation that makes a character's queerness an integral part of who they are, but allows their story not to be about that because they deserve to be any kind of person they like and not, you know, a character whose only trait is queerness; I dig main characters in their thirties and forties.
Quill and Still has all of those things. What it doesn't really have is a story, and perhaps that's where the disconnect is. I've read a fair few things now that started life as web serials, so you'd think I'd be used to the different pacing, where things generally get longer to breathe and there are just fewer things happening; I've also read quite a few long and dense non-fiction books that really are just extended treatises on whatever topic, so you'd think I'd be OK with that. Somehow, this hits a point somewhere in the middle that just wasn't quite the experience I was after at that moment.
Which is fine, by the way. It might be for you! Heck, it might even be for me next month or next year or whatever. Just be aware what to expect, I guess: you'll follow Sophie, whom I do actually like very much, as she meets a lot of characters and learns a lot about the world in which she's found herself, and that is pretty much the entirety of the book. A lot of thought's obviously gone into how everything works, which is admirable, but if you're someone who prefers to learn how a world functions through reading action and adventures and being shown the rules that way, rather than having them explained to you at great length in almost Plato-esque extended dialogues, this might not scratch your itch. But if you do like the latter kind of thing, you'll quite possibly love this!
December 5, 2023
Rating: 3.5/5
This was pretty good, but where a slice of life is supposed to be a relaxing read, this one is... not. Primarily due to the author's overly flowery and poetic writing style, and insistence on using as many uncommon words as possible. This left me frequently trying to look up words and their use in strange contexts until I gave up and just passed over passages that were likely interesting, but just too difficult to fully interpret.
My other complaint about this is the author goes into way too much depth on civics, often regarding other countries that are at best tangentially related to the main story. It feels like as much if not more time is spent discussing civics and politics as alchemy, and given that the story is supposed to be about the MC settling into another world and becoming an alchemist, that's kind of an issue for me.
I also found the author going into too much detail about other things that I didn't care about. As an example, an entire chapter spent discussing safety in advance of an experiment. Yes, the MC always plays it safe and that's part of her personality. Understood. But making me slog through a long chapter about safety only to have the first sentence of the next chapter be "And then we finished the potion", as if that's the boring part that should be skipped, is cruel.
This book had a lot of potential, but there were a number of issues like this that got in the way of my enjoyment. Overall I think I wanted to enjoy it more than I actually did.
This was pretty good, but where a slice of life is supposed to be a relaxing read, this one is... not. Primarily due to the author's overly flowery and poetic writing style, and insistence on using as many uncommon words as possible. This left me frequently trying to look up words and their use in strange contexts until I gave up and just passed over passages that were likely interesting, but just too difficult to fully interpret.
My other complaint about this is the author goes into way too much depth on civics, often regarding other countries that are at best tangentially related to the main story. It feels like as much if not more time is spent discussing civics and politics as alchemy, and given that the story is supposed to be about the MC settling into another world and becoming an alchemist, that's kind of an issue for me.
I also found the author going into too much detail about other things that I didn't care about. As an example, an entire chapter spent discussing safety in advance of an experiment. Yes, the MC always plays it safe and that's part of her personality. Understood. But making me slog through a long chapter about safety only to have the first sentence of the next chapter be "And then we finished the potion", as if that's the boring part that should be skipped, is cruel.
This book had a lot of potential, but there were a number of issues like this that got in the way of my enjoyment. Overall I think I wanted to enjoy it more than I actually did.
May 5, 2025
Like a magical What Color Is Your Parachute, this novel provides the pro-social worldbuilding I didn’t know I needed (but was delighted to discover!). As someone largely unfamiliar with the LitRPG or isekai subgenres, I can say this book worked fine for me as a people watcher and idea rat. It should appeal to many cozy fantasy and hopepunk enthusiasts who have only a passing knowledge of video or role playing games.
For those who appreciate a story that deeply explores a fictional society, especially the civics and social structures involved, this is an easy win. I personally found the main character deeply relatable. Her trans, queer, and Jewish background were clear. I’m not sure if her distractibility and overwhelm were meant to be read as neurodivergent, but my neurodivergent brain found her deeply sympathetic. I appreciated the author's organic inclusion of descriptive details and social questioning and look forward to seeing how deeper layers unfold in the sequel.
For those who appreciate a story that deeply explores a fictional society, especially the civics and social structures involved, this is an easy win. I personally found the main character deeply relatable. Her trans, queer, and Jewish background were clear. I’m not sure if her distractibility and overwhelm were meant to be read as neurodivergent, but my neurodivergent brain found her deeply sympathetic. I appreciated the author's organic inclusion of descriptive details and social questioning and look forward to seeing how deeper layers unfold in the sequel.
December 3, 2023
Isekai litrpg isn't really a genre I have much familiarity with, or a lot of interest in. But I found this soothingly boring (complimentary) and I didn't mind spending time in this world. Maybe boring isn't quite the right word, since if I'm bored, I just won't keep reading, and it's not that the book is bland either, but there's a, hm, comforting lack of traditional plot conflicts here, I suppose, and something pleasantly undemanding about the whole experience. I had a headache and felt crappy all day today, and this was about my speed given that.
Victoria Goddard's Nine Worlds books tread some similar ground as this, and I much prefer that series, but I don't regret having read this with the last couple days of my free KU trial.
Victoria Goddard's Nine Worlds books tread some similar ground as this, and I much prefer that series, but I don't regret having read this with the last couple days of my free KU trial.
December 2, 2023
Quill and Still is a brilliant story. Sophie is a fun protagonist to follow, as she enters and explores this brand-new world. The Village of Kibosh is a cosy home that one can almost imagine entering and being part of, full of a supportive supporting cast who have a lot of heart.
Heart, in general, is a good descriptor for Quill and Still. Aaron Sofaer has evidently poured their heart and soul into this work, and it shows. Passion and consideration emanate from practically every aspect of this story and its world, in all the questions it raises about civics and religion.
Quill and Still, to put a word to it, is Art.
Heart, in general, is a good descriptor for Quill and Still. Aaron Sofaer has evidently poured their heart and soul into this work, and it shows. Passion and consideration emanate from practically every aspect of this story and its world, in all the questions it raises about civics and religion.
Quill and Still, to put a word to it, is Art.
August 27, 2025
A wonderful slice of life with depth
As a queer Jew with pagan inclinations myself, this book hit me where I live. The writing is lovely, the worldbuilding is wonderful, and the characters are great. Cannot recommend enough
As a queer Jew with pagan inclinations myself, this book hit me where I live. The writing is lovely, the worldbuilding is wonderful, and the characters are great. Cannot recommend enough
November 1, 2024
Exceptionally solid writing, excellent story, and fun.
May 9, 2025
This book is a fun escape from the real world. Literally. After Sophie has a chance encounter with the goddess Artemis, she is sent off to a new world where she wanders around meeting people and leisurely trying new things. If you’re looking for a plot-heavy book, this isn’t it, but relax and enjoy the slice of life with litRPG vibes it has to offer.
(I received an audio copy for review purposes, but this is my honestly opinion.)
(I received an audio copy for review purposes, but this is my honestly opinion.)
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