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What We Are Seeking
From Cameron Reed, the acclaimed author of The Fortunate Fall, comes a soaring novel of queer hope and transformation, perfect for readers of Ann Leckie and Amal El-Mohtar.
On the planet Scythia, plants give birth to insects, trees can drag you to your death, and armies of animals graft native plants into human crops.
John Maraintha has been abandoned here, light-years from the peaceful forests that he loves.
The desert is harsh and the people in thrall to a barbaric custom called marriage.
He must find some way to make a life here.
But on Scythia, survival means transformation―and not everyone is willing to accept change.
On the planet Scythia, plants give birth to insects, trees can drag you to your death, and armies of animals graft native plants into human crops.
John Maraintha has been abandoned here, light-years from the peaceful forests that he loves.
The desert is harsh and the people in thrall to a barbaric custom called marriage.
He must find some way to make a life here.
But on Scythia, survival means transformation―and not everyone is willing to accept change.
352 pages, Hardcover
First published April 7, 2026
About the author
Cameron Reed
3 books35 followersAuthor previously writing under the name Raphael Carter.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 106 reviews
August 6, 2026
I wasn’t sure what to expect but I was pleasantly surprised by this one!
The social and political unrest in the human colony on the planet Scythia reminded me of Ann Leckie's Imperial Radch series. The intricacies and complexities of different cultures needing to cohabitate but also survive in the same hostile world was really well done.
The exploration of how would gender and relationships look like in such a distant future were also reminiscent of Ann Leckie's work, and Ursula Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness.
The book also touches on alien linguistics and how the way a society perceives the world can shape its language, which is a theme I really enjoy in sci-fi.
The plot went in a direction I wasn’t expecting at all but overall this was an excellent read. I highly recommend it if you enjoyed some of the other books I mentioned.
The social and political unrest in the human colony on the planet Scythia reminded me of Ann Leckie's Imperial Radch series. The intricacies and complexities of different cultures needing to cohabitate but also survive in the same hostile world was really well done.
The exploration of how would gender and relationships look like in such a distant future were also reminiscent of Ann Leckie's work, and Ursula Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness.
The book also touches on alien linguistics and how the way a society perceives the world can shape its language, which is a theme I really enjoy in sci-fi.
The plot went in a direction I wasn’t expecting at all but overall this was an excellent read. I highly recommend it if you enjoyed some of the other books I mentioned.
April 24, 2026
I'm not entirely sure how to review this novel. It was wonderful, it made me feel emotions that I cannot possibly describe. I read it too fast, I need to read it again to absorb everything I missed. I can't wait to listen to it as an audiobook. The summary is so simple and it explains the novel and also explains nothing of the novel. The characters are layered and complex and I love them. I love the world building, the details, the density. It throws you into the world and expects you to keep up, and I love that about a speculative fiction novel. It's about identity, gender, sexuality, and the various spectrums they take. It's about colonialism, the damage it does, the ways it can be repaired or not. It's about religion and religious truama, it's about how we carry cultures with us and how they intersect with so many aspects of our lives. It's about family and the shapes family can take.
I highly suggest picking this up, the marketing has a good go of it. If you like Leckie, Le Guin, and similar authors, I think you'll enjoy this.
Update: the audiobook is delightful and was such a gut punch to hear.
I highly suggest picking this up, the marketing has a good go of it. If you like Leckie, Le Guin, and similar authors, I think you'll enjoy this.
Update: the audiobook is delightful and was such a gut punch to hear.
Read
September 3, 2025A planetary romance with deep thematic resonance, this is a book about accepting the inevitability of change and transformation, even in ourselves and those we love.
June 10, 2026
4.5 stars
I loved this.
If you are a lover of plot driven stories, this book probably won’t be your cup of tea. The plot here is really the setting, and the characters and the changes they must endure, both voluntarily and through necessity, is the heart of the story. Because of this, it’s a bit hard to describe what the book is about?
Reed touches on so many things, but the main theme is that of intolerance and fear of change, and how that impacts every aspect of people’s lives. There are no easy ways to live; one must find a way to adapt and bear the costs, to discover a path that feels right and true to who you are.
What We Are Seeking provides a window in time where we see a group of people try to make a place for themselves, but it’s more a snapshot of a moment in the history of the colony and in the lives of a few people rather than a story where we get to see the end result of the struggles. The struggle never ends as long as life goes on.
I loved this.
If you are a lover of plot driven stories, this book probably won’t be your cup of tea. The plot here is really the setting, and the characters and the changes they must endure, both voluntarily and through necessity, is the heart of the story. Because of this, it’s a bit hard to describe what the book is about?
Reed touches on so many things, but the main theme is that of intolerance and fear of change, and how that impacts every aspect of people’s lives. There are no easy ways to live; one must find a way to adapt and bear the costs, to discover a path that feels right and true to who you are.
What We Are Seeking provides a window in time where we see a group of people try to make a place for themselves, but it’s more a snapshot of a moment in the history of the colony and in the lives of a few people rather than a story where we get to see the end result of the struggles. The struggle never ends as long as life goes on.
April 12, 2026
3.5 ⭐ CW: sexual content, homophobia, forced sterilization
What We Are Seeking by Cameron Reed is a speculative fiction scifi novel that I received from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This was a weird book. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it wasn't quite what I expected. I always feel a little weird about not absolutely loving a book by a trans author, because I want to support in any way I can.
We follow John Maraintha as he is traveling on a starship and gets sent down to live in a colony of an alien planet called Scythia. There, he must confront two different human cultures much different from his own, and also an alien species. His roommate's job is to try to learn the alien language to figure out how to communicate with a species that is born from plants. John has to navigate a culture of marriage, which feels anathema to him, and the oppressive nature of religion, as it restricts sexuality. John himself is bisexual. He also has to navigate unrequited love.
As I said, this was a weird book. I thought the main plot was really about the aliens, their language, and how they were going to navigate life with them on Scythia, but there wasn't actually much of a plot. The story even ended somewhat abruptly with no real resolution. This is really a story of concepts around language and communication, religion and marriage practices, sexuality, and gender. There was some interesting stuff with the Earth human, Vo, who seemed to be the most alien of all the humans. We are really dropped in this universe with no explanations. I found John to be a difficult MC to connect with. No matter what he did, I didn't feel emotionally connected to him. He seemed distant or disconnected and not very emotional. Even the sex scenes felt passionless.
This was also a very slow read due to the content and the writing style. I didn't dislike this book, but I wish I had gotten more out of John. I did like Iren, and the conversations around gender and being a jess (a person who takes a vow and becomes nonbinary). I wish we had seen more interplay between John and his group of friends and the rest of the colony. I think it would have kept my attention more if I felt like we were working toward something. I recommend this, if you're looking for some weird conceptual speculative fiction by a trans author, and don't mind a slow moving story.
What We Are Seeking by Cameron Reed is a speculative fiction scifi novel that I received from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This was a weird book. Not necessarily in a bad way, but it wasn't quite what I expected. I always feel a little weird about not absolutely loving a book by a trans author, because I want to support in any way I can.
We follow John Maraintha as he is traveling on a starship and gets sent down to live in a colony of an alien planet called Scythia. There, he must confront two different human cultures much different from his own, and also an alien species. His roommate's job is to try to learn the alien language to figure out how to communicate with a species that is born from plants. John has to navigate a culture of marriage, which feels anathema to him, and the oppressive nature of religion, as it restricts sexuality. John himself is bisexual. He also has to navigate unrequited love.
As I said, this was a weird book. I thought the main plot was really about the aliens, their language, and how they were going to navigate life with them on Scythia, but there wasn't actually much of a plot. The story even ended somewhat abruptly with no real resolution. This is really a story of concepts around language and communication, religion and marriage practices, sexuality, and gender. There was some interesting stuff with the Earth human, Vo, who seemed to be the most alien of all the humans. We are really dropped in this universe with no explanations. I found John to be a difficult MC to connect with. No matter what he did, I didn't feel emotionally connected to him. He seemed distant or disconnected and not very emotional. Even the sex scenes felt passionless.
This was also a very slow read due to the content and the writing style. I didn't dislike this book, but I wish I had gotten more out of John. I did like Iren, and the conversations around gender and being a jess (a person who takes a vow and becomes nonbinary). I wish we had seen more interplay between John and his group of friends and the rest of the colony. I think it would have kept my attention more if I felt like we were working toward something. I recommend this, if you're looking for some weird conceptual speculative fiction by a trans author, and don't mind a slow moving story.
physical-tbr
January 7, 2026I am soooooo incredibly seated for this! Can't believe the luck I have that I don't have to wait 30 years for a new Cameron Reed novel!
July 14, 2026
This book is astonishingly beautiful. The characters are richly layered, both as individuals and as parts of their different cultures. The world has tremendous depth and vivid detail. The interpersonal relationships and politics are gripping in their developments. I only wish it kept on going. I didn't want to leave these characters.
May 8, 2026
I'm going to redefine the term 'planetary romance'.
It used to mean a science fiction story set on another planet, not in space. The 'romance' is an old term for fantasy, not for love.
But for this book set on another planet, love and acceptance are definitely the main topic. Hence my re-definition.
John is a doctor who is sent planetside from a spaceship. His planet is matriarchal and practices what used to be called 'free love', with no legal commitments and certainly no marriage. Marriage disgusts him.
The settlers on the planet are definitely the marrying kind, some form of classic Christianity.
One of the settlers is what we would call non-binary or trans, although those terms aren't used. The term is 'jess', after the first person who became that way. Iren has declared themselves to be celibate, but that doesn't mean without feelings and emotions.
John is sidelined as a doctor and is assigned to assist a translator of the native species of humanoid. The translator, Sudharma, is an intense but quiet person who John develops feelings for.
The stage is set for the most amazing consideration and discussion of gender identities, religious beliefs, and how we interact with others with whom we don't share a fundamental view of life and society. It's a thought piece and examines how we see each other today and can learn to accept what we don't believe or share.
I'm making it sound like a philosophical discussion and nothing else. There's plenty of action, especially when the people venture out to interact with the native species, and Sudharma starts getting proficient at translation. There are exotic plants that are also animals that are incredibly dangerous. There is the possibility of death in the desert. There are plenty of examples of how alien to our way of thinking the native humanoid species is, and how their way of speaking has to be twisted just so in translation in order for Sudharma to even begin to understand them. It felt realistic.
Meanwhile, there's an augmented human from Earth who has arrived, who is connected to an AI (called 'aiyi' here), of whom the settlers are deeply suspicious since the aiyi have basically taken over management of Earth and have god-like powers. This person, Vo, becomes a lover of John and displays almost omniscient powers. In fact, this is why I kept my rating at four stars rather than five - even with Clarke's Third Law, I felt the god-like ability of Vo to be a bit too much.
Other than that, though, I can heartily recommend this book. It integrates well with the author's previous work like 'The Fortunate Fall', in that it examines gender ideation in an incredibly thoughtful manner. Cameron Reed is moving the needle on the representation of gender in science fiction, in ways that remind me of how pioneering authors were attempting it in the 1970s and 80s.
It used to mean a science fiction story set on another planet, not in space. The 'romance' is an old term for fantasy, not for love.
But for this book set on another planet, love and acceptance are definitely the main topic. Hence my re-definition.
John is a doctor who is sent planetside from a spaceship. His planet is matriarchal and practices what used to be called 'free love', with no legal commitments and certainly no marriage. Marriage disgusts him.
The settlers on the planet are definitely the marrying kind, some form of classic Christianity.
One of the settlers is what we would call non-binary or trans, although those terms aren't used. The term is 'jess', after the first person who became that way. Iren has declared themselves to be celibate, but that doesn't mean without feelings and emotions.
John is sidelined as a doctor and is assigned to assist a translator of the native species of humanoid. The translator, Sudharma, is an intense but quiet person who John develops feelings for.
The stage is set for the most amazing consideration and discussion of gender identities, religious beliefs, and how we interact with others with whom we don't share a fundamental view of life and society. It's a thought piece and examines how we see each other today and can learn to accept what we don't believe or share.
I'm making it sound like a philosophical discussion and nothing else. There's plenty of action, especially when the people venture out to interact with the native species, and Sudharma starts getting proficient at translation. There are exotic plants that are also animals that are incredibly dangerous. There is the possibility of death in the desert. There are plenty of examples of how alien to our way of thinking the native humanoid species is, and how their way of speaking has to be twisted just so in translation in order for Sudharma to even begin to understand them. It felt realistic.
Meanwhile, there's an augmented human from Earth who has arrived, who is connected to an AI (called 'aiyi' here), of whom the settlers are deeply suspicious since the aiyi have basically taken over management of Earth and have god-like powers. This person, Vo, becomes a lover of John and displays almost omniscient powers. In fact, this is why I kept my rating at four stars rather than five - even with Clarke's Third Law, I felt the god-like ability of Vo to be a bit too much.
Other than that, though, I can heartily recommend this book. It integrates well with the author's previous work like 'The Fortunate Fall', in that it examines gender ideation in an incredibly thoughtful manner. Cameron Reed is moving the needle on the representation of gender in science fiction, in ways that remind me of how pioneering authors were attempting it in the 1970s and 80s.
May 2, 2026
The writing is crisp, the world-building an immersive anthropology, and the moral lessons are delivered by deeply empathetic characters. The cleverest move is the triangulation. By making the protagonist’s own people the deviants from the perspective of the "marrying" cultures, and the third gender role as problematic for libertines and fundies alike, Reed strips disgust of its claim to objectivity. What looks like natural order is just whichever arrangement got there first and trained its children to gag at the alternatives.
What earns the novel its place on a philosophical SF reading list is that it avoids an easy liberal landing, despite making a clear case for sex/gender freedom. Sanctioned celibacy is still seen as a cage, even though it is celebrated as freeing. The tolerant culture’s bargain - "you may exist if you do not desire" - is the same bargain that the Catholic Church has cut with gay people.
Reed reminds us where sexual disgust does its dirtiest work: at the borders of the permissible body, policing not just who counts as human, but who counts as a full sexual citizen. Any politics of liberation has to do more than just redraw those lines; it has to dissolve the unexamined "disgust infrastructure" that polices them.
What earns the novel its place on a philosophical SF reading list is that it avoids an easy liberal landing, despite making a clear case for sex/gender freedom. Sanctioned celibacy is still seen as a cage, even though it is celebrated as freeing. The tolerant culture’s bargain - "you may exist if you do not desire" - is the same bargain that the Catholic Church has cut with gay people.
Reed reminds us where sexual disgust does its dirtiest work: at the borders of the permissible body, policing not just who counts as human, but who counts as a full sexual citizen. Any politics of liberation has to do more than just redraw those lines; it has to dissolve the unexamined "disgust infrastructure" that polices them.
July 11, 2026
This is exactly the kind of book I've been waiting for. It has a great premise for describing to other people ("a barbaric custom called marriage"!), but the really good part of the book are the relationships between the characters, how they talk about them, and how they grow in the story. I would have liked the book to be longer and spend more time talking about how these colonists are going to shape the world with the "basket men," but the book itself didn't seem as interested in that. Or it just got lost in everything else. I'm giving it five stars anyway because it's my rating system and it's not a grade!
July 27, 2026
I had been hearing raves about this book, so I already had high expectations going into it.
This takes place far into the future, where many planets have been colonized from various groups on Earth, and have had some sociological/political divergence. The main character, John, is from a society that doesn't believe in marriage, in fact, sees it as an institution to imprison and control women. He ends up being stuck on a new planet, a small settlement settled by a couple of other groups who very much believe in traditional heterosexual marriage and gender roles.
There's a lot of stuff here. A really unique planet where the fauna is all "hatched" from vegetation, but can be mammals, birds, or reptiles, and some of the mammals even try to communicate with humans. There are some adventure parts of it. But it's also a lot about identity and how John changes or is changed by those around him. The author really uses the medium of sci-fi to explore what it means to be human and what we think about gender roles.
This takes place far into the future, where many planets have been colonized from various groups on Earth, and have had some sociological/political divergence. The main character, John, is from a society that doesn't believe in marriage, in fact, sees it as an institution to imprison and control women. He ends up being stuck on a new planet, a small settlement settled by a couple of other groups who very much believe in traditional heterosexual marriage and gender roles.
There's a lot of stuff here. A really unique planet where the fauna is all "hatched" from vegetation, but can be mammals, birds, or reptiles, and some of the mammals even try to communicate with humans. There are some adventure parts of it. But it's also a lot about identity and how John changes or is changed by those around him. The author really uses the medium of sci-fi to explore what it means to be human and what we think about gender roles.
April 27, 2026
idk the writing felt weird and stilted. ESPECIALLY at the first half of the book. It did get somewhat better though when you got into it, maybe because the plot carried it.
- They (tried) to make it like a mixture of mundane (as mundane as space colonies can be i guess lmao) daily life and cultured mixed with these 'philosophical' dialogues (or rather, think pieces). It was fine, but when you read through it, you can obviously clock what the writer was trying to do, which ruined the fiction and plot narrative for me.
- Thats my gripe i guess, that this book was not COMPLETELY good, not fully baked. Where it was bad, it was so boring, trite, and annoyingly stale but when it was good, it was so nuanced, tender, meditative and smart.
- Reading this made me feel like The Woker, but like, in a good way lmao
- ALSO BECAUSE this book heavily focused on language and communication i have a bone to pick with them, well maybe more like an inquiry. They used the word sunscreen as a name for a pill to help them with the sun. But does sunSCREEN not literally mean something you apply (topically) to protect you externally from the sun? It doesn't work when it a pill you ingest. IDK IT JUST BEEN ON MY MIND
- They (tried) to make it like a mixture of mundane (as mundane as space colonies can be i guess lmao) daily life and cultured mixed with these 'philosophical' dialogues (or rather, think pieces). It was fine, but when you read through it, you can obviously clock what the writer was trying to do, which ruined the fiction and plot narrative for me.
- Thats my gripe i guess, that this book was not COMPLETELY good, not fully baked. Where it was bad, it was so boring, trite, and annoyingly stale but when it was good, it was so nuanced, tender, meditative and smart.
- Reading this made me feel like The Woker, but like, in a good way lmao
- ALSO BECAUSE this book heavily focused on language and communication i have a bone to pick with them, well maybe more like an inquiry. They used the word sunscreen as a name for a pill to help them with the sun. But does sunSCREEN not literally mean something you apply (topically) to protect you externally from the sun? It doesn't work when it a pill you ingest. IDK IT JUST BEEN ON MY MIND
March 29, 2026
I’m rather torn about this book. On the one hand, the world building is admirable, inventive, and extraordinarily clever. However, there are also entire chapters where nobody does anything, but sit around and talk and that drives me crazy. Cameron Reed has transitioned to female since their first book and I can really feel the author’s personal issues bubbling through the characters and it ruins the story for me. Ultimately, it’s not a bad book, but I found it kind of a slog and I would have liked if the plot had centred around the indigenous life-forms.
Thanks to Tor Books who kindly sent me an ARC for review.
Thanks to Tor Books who kindly sent me an ARC for review.
August 25, 2025
This book is so goddamn good I want to screech. It is precisely the type of sci-fi I'm always searching for.
Review to come, because I need to get my thoughts in order.
ARC provided by Edelweiss and TOR.
Review to come, because I need to get my thoughts in order.
ARC provided by Edelweiss and TOR.
November 25, 2025
I'm already planning to reread it. what a thoroughly thoroughly wonderful book that somehow managed to exceed my ridiculously high expectations.
July 24, 2026
[…] at this distance even a muddied reflection of home felt like comfort.
From the beginning, What We Are Seeking marinates you in alien spices. Details hit askew, analogies emerge estranged from their common referents. Our lead perspective feels facinatingly off-center, his thoughts peppered with fears that rats are so close to humans that eating them would be akin to cannibalism, and that planets are frightening for having marriage customs.
This unsettling design filters into all parts of the world, from its greater cultures and social structures, to the linguistic grounding of the dialogue, what counts as “soft” or “sharp” language. With all of this layering, we are slowly brought into what appears to be a well-thought-out science fictional world, with intriguing new biological designs.
And then something changes halfway through.
“John. What you want can’t be.”
”Oh,” he said; and something in him that had hoped despite all reason—some bird-shaped brightness lying at the center of his chest—curled up its many legs, shed its clear wings, became compact and heavy as stone.
This book has a perfect section: Chapter 15. Two wandering souls, marred with such grievous tragedies, baring hidden hearts to one another in the dead night. This darkly glimmering core and the complex emotion it peels out is the sole reason this story must have 5 stars from me. An instantly haunting scene that plays as shadows flickering in the mind.
I wonder if it’s even possible to truly want to become alien, or if we can only imagine ourselves as some humanized version of them. If it is possible, then I was not up to the task.
Beyond the deeper topics explored in this book, there is something very appealing in how much time Cameron Reed spends on cooking and stitching, these slower, fundamental tasks of living that normally don’t get such patient focus. So many interesting choices for what to value and give attention to, such vivid overlapping of sociocultural conflicts. Perhaps more than any other I’ve read, this book does an excellent job of giving voice to that fear, that someone you love will turn into something you no longer recognize, and letting it fly free.
It isn’t selfish to insist on being allowed a life.
May 17, 2026
The one where Dr. John Maraintha comes against his will to a strange planet which is in the process of being settled by humans who are also strange.
I devoured the first third of the book. The worldbuilding, first of shipboard culture and then of the ecosystems of Scythia, is absolutely delightful from the largest scale down to the occasional hints that remind you that you're reading a story in English that's being spoken in something very different.
John has the characterization that you often see in narrators of both sci-fi and mysteries. He's naive and has some fixed ideas, so when he describes something to you, it's often possible for you to see things in it that he's oblivious to. He brings almost nothing in with him; he's both empty-handed (desperate to secure his material life) and lonely (desperate to connect), so he's ready to be transformed.
Unfortunately he's the only person in the book who shows us much interior. The other characters are having conflicts, making discoveries, following through with difficult choices -- but far too often things that ought to feel active are delivered by a character saying, "I've decided I'm going to do this," and going ahead (possibly after a bit of argument) and doing it.
It would have benefited greatly from another point of view. I would especially have liked to hear from inside Iren's head; mostly I understood the things they did, but I consistently had trouble making sense of the things they said, which seemed to be part of a witty dialog that was taking place somewhere other than on the page. Sudharma's perspective would have been welcome, too.
I devoured the first third of the book. The worldbuilding, first of shipboard culture and then of the ecosystems of Scythia, is absolutely delightful from the largest scale down to the occasional hints that remind you that you're reading a story in English that's being spoken in something very different.
John has the characterization that you often see in narrators of both sci-fi and mysteries. He's naive and has some fixed ideas, so when he describes something to you, it's often possible for you to see things in it that he's oblivious to. He brings almost nothing in with him; he's both empty-handed (desperate to secure his material life) and lonely (desperate to connect), so he's ready to be transformed.
Unfortunately he's the only person in the book who shows us much interior. The other characters are having conflicts, making discoveries, following through with difficult choices -- but far too often things that ought to feel active are delivered by a character saying, "I've decided I'm going to do this," and going ahead (possibly after a bit of argument) and doing it.
It would have benefited greatly from another point of view. I would especially have liked to hear from inside Iren's head; mostly I understood the things they did, but I consistently had trouble making sense of the things they said, which seemed to be part of a witty dialog that was taking place somewhere other than on the page. Sudharma's perspective would have been welcome, too.
May 11, 2026
This book mostly just left me frustrated with how much potential it had that wasn't left fulfilled. The world was utterly fascinating, the scientific ideas of alien biology new and creative. I have many gripes (why did so little happen until the last few chapters and then get left unresolved?) but the greatest of them is that all of this gets filtered through the most boring POV character out of the whole cast that the author created. I genuinely adored Iren, I was fascinated by Vo, I would have loved to even hear Sudharma actually grapple with Jainism on a planet where the line between plant and animal is so blurred—any or all of them would have made amazing narrators. Instead we get John, whose most interesting trait is he comes from a planet without any form of marriage. And that's seemingly his whole personality.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 28, 2026
Menschen von zwei verschiedenen Planeten und Kulturen haben einen dritten Planeten besiedelt. Ein Arzt und ein Übersetzer von zwei weiteren Planeten kommen dazu, um die Kommunikation mit Aliens aufzunehmen. Sehr schön geschriebene und zum Nachdenken anregende Geschichte über Lebensentwürfe und Gesellschaften.
July 13, 2026
I loved reading this for the worldbuilding in general, the aliens and the alien ecology, and the different planetary customs. It doesn't get the fifth star because . Which I assume is the author's intention, but I still find it very frustrating. However, I expect (and hope) to see it on next year's award ballots.
July 3, 2026
A truly splendid book doing many things and all of them on multiple levels. I like the planet and its aliens, I like the languages and interpretations and efforts at communication in all its guises, I like the complicated character relationships, I like how this is about so many different people's journeys. And there is much more. I will be thinking about this one for a good while and already look forward to rereading it.
July 2, 2026
I had no idea what was coming, but I thoroughly enjoyed this. There were complicated human societies, different ethical priorities, space adventures, love, identity crises, and many other themes.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
A doctor traveling through space is told he must stop at a colony world called Scythia, to assist a translator who is investigating what might be an intelligent alien species, albeit one that has been difficult to communicate with. It's not his choice, but as he has no connections to his own society and is at the mercy of the whims of the ship that has been transporting him, he has no real way to refuse. It helps that he finds he likes his new companion, but the world he's going to is very different from his own... the people there have a practice which to them is perfectly normal and even expected, but to those of his own world is regarded practically with horror... the institution called marriage.
Disclaimer: I received an advanced review copy of this book for free through Netgalley. I don't think it affected my review.
I was super excited to get a chance to read this book. The author's previous work, The Fortunate Fall, was a powerful post-Cyberpunk novel, full of inventive ideas ahead of its time and one of my favorites when I finally found it (it went out of print quickly, although that has since been corrected). It's been almost thirty years since that book and the author's second. Which was also a source of a bit of trepidation, the fear that perhaps the author has 'lost' the edge and sci-fi chops that so charmed me in the early book.
That fear was dashed pretty quickly. We open strong with a fantastic opening recasting the idea of seasons onto a starship in a way I don't think I've ever heard before but instantly made perfect sense to me and opened my mind in the way great SF does. We then soon move onto a planet, where the book takes a turn into planetary romance and we investigate an ecosystem where the line between plant and animal is blurred to the point of nonexistence, but does it with such skill that I could believe it was not just a gimmick but an actual way an alien world might work. The book introduced me to a variety of different species of different ecological niches, and never losing an understanding of how evolution works (even, at one point, hanging a lantern on one of the few slightly implausible ideas by pointing out that it was evolutionarily unlikely... and then going on to justify reasons it might happen anyway). We also deal with the problems of interacting with an alien culture and language and how humans might fit in with an alien society, both peacefully and potentially catastrophically, even without evil intentions. All these elements are like catnip to me, as my favorite books are the kind that make me think and see possibilities.
On top of all of that, even if you left out the aliens entirely, there's strong characters and their own personal stories and different viewpoints provided by culture. The author doesn't skimp out, and over the course of the book see at least six different human cultures, some familiar as being based on familiar Earth cultures, others that may have a loose inspiration but weren't as familiar to me, and still others extrapolations of trends and philosphies. Each has its own perspectives, biases, ideas about sex and gender, and contradictions and subcultures within the ideas they espouse (sometimes even subcultures within subcultures!), which sometimes cause friction on a world with multiple cultures, even when everybody is largely doing their best to be accepting of such differences. There's a lot going on, but the book doesn't feel bloated from this either, everything's just introduced naturally as part of exploring the world and characters. And, in addition to all the character dramas, there's a bit of survival adventure as well that leads to some action and tension for those who crave that aspect of things. It's one of those books that halfway through I was potentially ready to call one of my favorites of the year, as early in the year as it was.
And then sadly, it just kind of... lost steam? Or rather, all those plotlines and elements I was enjoying just faded into the background while the story instead shifted into an intense focus on a handful of those characters and their personal lives, which isn't always a bad thing, except that really the story mostly narrowed to one specific character and their decision to 'come out' in a society that wasn't entirely welcoming. And to be sure, these are important stories to be told, I'm happy to explore this aspect, I just... wanted closure or at least a lot more development on all the other stuff too, the stuff I was super digging in the rest of the book, stuff that was just left with no resolution at all. Maybe the author had a point in mind about the lack of easy resolutions, because even the character moments that dominate the end of the book don't really get 'wrapped up.' There's merely a major step taken but, in a world where there's already a lot of deep prejudices, the story doesn't even tell us much of their long term fate beyond the immediate reactions of a few friends. We learn even less about some of the other character relationships I was interested in... some of them, we don't even get a hint of what happens, which, considering I think this was meant to be a standalone, is a choice I don't entirely agree with.
I still loved the stuff I loved. The book didn't lose me to the point that I disliked it. I actually had the book pre-ordered (a rare step for me!) before I got the chance to read the advanced Netgalley preview, and I'm not even quietly cancelling my preorder. There's still a lot to like in the book, and I want a copy, and I want to support the author because this is just more evidence that there's a fantastic mind for writing science fiction at work. But I can't deny that I was a little disappointed in a few of the specific storytelling choices, that turned it from an easy four star review (if not higher) to... 'maybe I'll round up to four stars.' I probably will. My disappointment doesn't temper my eagerness to read more Cameron Reed. So yeah, four stars. But it puts me once again in the position of waiting for the next Cameron Reed book. Here's hoping it's less than thirty years!
Disclaimer: I received an advanced review copy of this book for free through Netgalley. I don't think it affected my review.
I was super excited to get a chance to read this book. The author's previous work, The Fortunate Fall, was a powerful post-Cyberpunk novel, full of inventive ideas ahead of its time and one of my favorites when I finally found it (it went out of print quickly, although that has since been corrected). It's been almost thirty years since that book and the author's second. Which was also a source of a bit of trepidation, the fear that perhaps the author has 'lost' the edge and sci-fi chops that so charmed me in the early book.
That fear was dashed pretty quickly. We open strong with a fantastic opening recasting the idea of seasons onto a starship in a way I don't think I've ever heard before but instantly made perfect sense to me and opened my mind in the way great SF does. We then soon move onto a planet, where the book takes a turn into planetary romance and we investigate an ecosystem where the line between plant and animal is blurred to the point of nonexistence, but does it with such skill that I could believe it was not just a gimmick but an actual way an alien world might work. The book introduced me to a variety of different species of different ecological niches, and never losing an understanding of how evolution works (even, at one point, hanging a lantern on one of the few slightly implausible ideas by pointing out that it was evolutionarily unlikely... and then going on to justify reasons it might happen anyway). We also deal with the problems of interacting with an alien culture and language and how humans might fit in with an alien society, both peacefully and potentially catastrophically, even without evil intentions. All these elements are like catnip to me, as my favorite books are the kind that make me think and see possibilities.
On top of all of that, even if you left out the aliens entirely, there's strong characters and their own personal stories and different viewpoints provided by culture. The author doesn't skimp out, and over the course of the book see at least six different human cultures, some familiar as being based on familiar Earth cultures, others that may have a loose inspiration but weren't as familiar to me, and still others extrapolations of trends and philosphies. Each has its own perspectives, biases, ideas about sex and gender, and contradictions and subcultures within the ideas they espouse (sometimes even subcultures within subcultures!), which sometimes cause friction on a world with multiple cultures, even when everybody is largely doing their best to be accepting of such differences. There's a lot going on, but the book doesn't feel bloated from this either, everything's just introduced naturally as part of exploring the world and characters. And, in addition to all the character dramas, there's a bit of survival adventure as well that leads to some action and tension for those who crave that aspect of things. It's one of those books that halfway through I was potentially ready to call one of my favorites of the year, as early in the year as it was.
And then sadly, it just kind of... lost steam? Or rather, all those plotlines and elements I was enjoying just faded into the background while the story instead shifted into an intense focus on a handful of those characters and their personal lives, which isn't always a bad thing, except that really the story mostly narrowed to one specific character and their decision to 'come out' in a society that wasn't entirely welcoming. And to be sure, these are important stories to be told, I'm happy to explore this aspect, I just... wanted closure or at least a lot more development on all the other stuff too, the stuff I was super digging in the rest of the book, stuff that was just left with no resolution at all. Maybe the author had a point in mind about the lack of easy resolutions, because even the character moments that dominate the end of the book don't really get 'wrapped up.' There's merely a major step taken but, in a world where there's already a lot of deep prejudices, the story doesn't even tell us much of their long term fate beyond the immediate reactions of a few friends. We learn even less about some of the other character relationships I was interested in... some of them, we don't even get a hint of what happens, which, considering I think this was meant to be a standalone, is a choice I don't entirely agree with.
I still loved the stuff I loved. The book didn't lose me to the point that I disliked it. I actually had the book pre-ordered (a rare step for me!) before I got the chance to read the advanced Netgalley preview, and I'm not even quietly cancelling my preorder. There's still a lot to like in the book, and I want a copy, and I want to support the author because this is just more evidence that there's a fantastic mind for writing science fiction at work. But I can't deny that I was a little disappointed in a few of the specific storytelling choices, that turned it from an easy four star review (if not higher) to... 'maybe I'll round up to four stars.' I probably will. My disappointment doesn't temper my eagerness to read more Cameron Reed. So yeah, four stars. But it puts me once again in the position of waiting for the next Cameron Reed book. Here's hoping it's less than thirty years!
Want to Read
July 19, 2026High marks from the New Yorker's Stephanie Burt:
https://www.newyorker.com/books/under...
The New Yorker seldom features SF, so this was a pleasant surprise.
Excerpt:
"It’s partly space opera—far future, with starships and aliens—and mostly set on a colonized planet: the kind of premise made popular by “Star Trek.” It’s a cracking, fast-moving adventure story, with a wilderness-survival plot, love stories, coming-out stories, and a whodunnit. It’s about desert botany and zoology, and reproductive freedom, and new tech, and religious faith. And it asks us to sleuth out—in its world, and our own—connections among all those things."
Unmentioned in her review is that the novel was first published as by Raphael Carter, a pen-name.
"Raphael Carter" also had an influential blog, The Honeyguide, in the late 1990s. I was lukewarm on The Fortunate Fall, rating it (much later) as 3 stars.
Also see
https://locusmag.com/review/what-we-a...
A very positive review. I expect to read it if/when the libraries get a copy.
https://www.newyorker.com/books/under...
The New Yorker seldom features SF, so this was a pleasant surprise.
Excerpt:
"It’s partly space opera—far future, with starships and aliens—and mostly set on a colonized planet: the kind of premise made popular by “Star Trek.” It’s a cracking, fast-moving adventure story, with a wilderness-survival plot, love stories, coming-out stories, and a whodunnit. It’s about desert botany and zoology, and reproductive freedom, and new tech, and religious faith. And it asks us to sleuth out—in its world, and our own—connections among all those things."
Unmentioned in her review is that the novel was first published as by Raphael Carter, a pen-name.
"Raphael Carter" also had an influential blog, The Honeyguide, in the late 1990s. I was lukewarm on The Fortunate Fall, rating it (much later) as 3 stars.
Also see
https://locusmag.com/review/what-we-a...
A very positive review. I expect to read it if/when the libraries get a copy.
August 1, 2026
From Jo Walton’s Reading List: May and June 2026, in Reactor Magazine: “May began in Chicago, then I took the train home to Montreal, where I have been ever since. Being at home, I read a lot: a total of eighteen books, and some of them were great.” One of those books was this one: “Re-read, I read it last summer and I read it again now because it is out and I can talk to people about it. The first paragraph is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read. This is a very traditional SF story, told in a way that could only be written now. There are people who live on spaceships and lots of settled planets, and there are aliens, and linguists, and first contact, and new ways of living and having families, coming into conflict with traditional ones. Lovely, lovely cultures, interesting aliens and language, terrific characters, and not as harrowing as Reed’s earlier The Fortunate Fall. Read it, love it, discuss it with your friends, nominate it for awards, this is great. As often with me and really good books I liked it better on second reading when I knew what was going to happen, because there wasn’t anxiety about what actually would happen. I love re-reading a book for the first time and knowing it will be the first of many.”
This is the above-mentioned opening paragraph of the book: “On the Free Ship Edgar’s Folly, traveling away from Essius at ninety-nine one hundredths of the speed of light, it was the last day of summer.”
What can I say? One firmly established fact of cultural existence in this day and age – so obvious that it hardly needs reiterating – is that, if Jo Walton tells you that you have to read a certain book, that book must eventually be read, if only for one’s basic personal enrichment.
There is lots of sense, enormous amounts of sensibility, not much pride, some prejudice, much decency, a dose of self-mutilation almost as an afterthought, and some reflections on the barbaric institution of marriage, which is still extensively practised. There is also a defense of individual liberty against societal dictates so radical – specifically where decisions concerning one’s own body are concerned – that it would give even the most ardent libertarian pause…
I didn’t like it all that much, to be honest, but it deserves to be read and appreciated: it provides plenty of food for thought, and it is intelligent, audacious even, and very well written.
Let’s see:
This is the above-mentioned opening paragraph of the book: “On the Free Ship Edgar’s Folly, traveling away from Essius at ninety-nine one hundredths of the speed of light, it was the last day of summer.”
What can I say? One firmly established fact of cultural existence in this day and age – so obvious that it hardly needs reiterating – is that, if Jo Walton tells you that you have to read a certain book, that book must eventually be read, if only for one’s basic personal enrichment.
There is lots of sense, enormous amounts of sensibility, not much pride, some prejudice, much decency, a dose of self-mutilation almost as an afterthought, and some reflections on the barbaric institution of marriage, which is still extensively practised. There is also a defense of individual liberty against societal dictates so radical – specifically where decisions concerning one’s own body are concerned – that it would give even the most ardent libertarian pause…
I didn’t like it all that much, to be honest, but it deserves to be read and appreciated: it provides plenty of food for thought, and it is intelligent, audacious even, and very well written.
Let’s see:
He wanted to say more, but he knew he had argued far too much already. He had received a clear refusal; he should have accepted it at once. And as much as he felt wounded by Sudharma’s lack of trust, he knew that he had wronged him too. He had acted as if love could justify making demands on the one that he loved. That was part of the ideology of marrying people, he realized. Living surrounded by them had corrupted him. He had held the door fast against marriage, but it had slipped in through a window.
“Interesting,” they said. “But that’s an explanation. What’s the reason?”
“Desire should be free,” he said. And then considering their nature and their situation, he added, “I don’t mean only sexual desire. We shouldn’t seek to bind each other, or ourselves, in any way. It’s an absurdity to swear to love forever—no one can promise such a thing. And even if love does persist, you are still likely to regret committing yourself to a roommate you can’t get rid of and a job you’re not allowed to quit.”
“Of course one sees that it is often so, but even on Zandahe not every marriage is the same. Those who are prudent find someone who wants the same things they do, and together the two make of marriage whatever they need it to be. Even you might manage that, with the right woman. You could have sewing by the fire and game-playing on the floor, even if you won’t believe it’s a real family.”
“If I did that,” he said, “who would I be then?”
“Oh, well, if that’s the worm that’s boring into you, then forget I said anything.”
“No—no gene we know of can do that. Rather, it makes your connection with your body more immediate and more intense. It might increase your precision and joy in movement. It might make someone a better dancer, a more accurate archer, a more fluent swimmer. But for those who have a memory, the wrongness of the body is felt more keenly too—and they seek out the braid for relief. Whereas those who are more able to disengage from their bodies may repress what they feel. Then they walk around numb and disconnected and less than they could be, and might never even know why, if they had no role models to learn from. Those whose fire burns brightest have a difficult path to walk, but they light the way for others. And I believe, no matter how hard this colony may fall, that way leads back to a world of hormone injections and memory clinics, in which the gene increases jesses’ joy in their changed bodies, and in which some of us are great dancers too.”
“It’s not a price. It’s what I came here hoping to do.”
“You’ll become another person.”
“I will change, as everyone changes throughout life. We change when we learn new things, when we meet new people, when we move to a new place.”
“This is different.”
“It’s certainly more sudden.”
“How long?”
“I hope to have the program ready within a month.”
Only a month left, to live with the man he had fallen in love with. A month until Sudharma went away, and John had to nurse the stranger in his body back to health. There was nothing he could do or say, no point in trying to argue.
“I will be ready.”
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Highlights
~all the cool things are out of sight
~bugs that are mammals that are plants
~killing a tree makes you hetero
Here is the description this had on Netgalley when I requested it (and still has at the time of this writing);
Having now read it, What We Are Seeking is not a book I would describe as one of ‘queer hope’. And I am so tired of books promising that and just delivering a set-up as bad or worse than what we have in the real world right now.
Which, to be clear, is a failure (or lie) of the book’s marketing, not the author. It’s not Reed’s fault I went into this with the wrong expectations. But whose fault it is doesn’t change my reading experience, unfortunately. That being said, even if the publisher had not called this a queer hope book, I would not have enjoyed it. It was dull and depressing and did the thing of teasing me with seriously interesting things at the edges of the story, but focussing on other stuff I couldn’t care less about instead.
John is unwillingly dropped onto the planet Scythia, a dry, dusty environment populated by settlers from two different cultures, both of them deeply conservative. They don’t trust him because he comes from a matriarchal culture that practices free sex and doesn’t have marriage; he thinks they’re all insane because from where he’s standing, marriage is a barbaric practice. (Very little in the book proves him wrong.) John’s responsibility is caring for Sudharma, a deeply lovely man on Scythia to try and learn the language of the native aliens and determine if they’re another sentient species. John makes friends, learns a bit about the aliens and Scythia’s strange flora and fauna, and is peripheral to the tensions around a teenager who wants to take the vow to become a jess, a nonbinary gender found in the culture of some of the settlers.
And that’s kind of it. There isn’t a big plot, and there’s no impetus, no driving force moving the story along. On a line level, the prose is graceful and lovely; there’s some fantastic asexual and aromantic representation (not the same character, for once!); and the life that’s evolved on Scythia is nicely unique and weird. But the book itself drifts and waffles and meanders, introspective and philosophical rather than having a plot. And normally that wouldn’t be a huge problem for me; the anthropologist-esque eye John turns on the settlers is something I usually quite enjoy. But the settlers’ cultures are deeply boring, patriarchal and Christian and maddeningly conservative. The history and culture around the jesses was fabulous, but we got so little of it, and all of it via being lectured by the one jess character.
Scythia is boring and dry and the people living on it painfully familiar, and I was left longing to explore John’s world, or the delightfully strange culture of the star-ships, instead. I would have been very happy to read a book about jesses on their origin world. To have all this interesting worldbuilding dangled in front of me, but set the story on the dullest of all the worlds we hear about instead…wtf?
There are little hiccups of interest here and there – there’s Vo, the wonderfully odd human from mysterious Earth, joined in some way to the eldritch aiyi, who may just wipe out the humans on Scythia if the aliens turn out to be sentient. John’s relationship with her was refreshing and really fun; Vo is probably my favourite character in the book, functionally neurodivergent because of her connection to the aiyi, but still fully capable of connecting to and caring for other humans. And Sudharma’s quest to understand the basket-men – the aliens – was…intellectually interesting, even if it wasn’t gripping until very near the end of the book. But we barely glimpsed the aiyi, and what they and Vo could do; and the most fascinating aspects of the basket-men’s culture and understanding of the world were dropped on us in the very last pages, with no time to explore them or see them in action. Sudharma is concerned that the settlers might come to enslave the basket-men, but nothing happens in that direction (thankfully, but it still feels like a massive waste of potential plot). Sudharma is also prepared to alter his own brain to better understand the basket-men and their language, something John frets over for much of the book, but
What kind of story is it? Honestly, I don’t know. I find it hugely depressing to look at far-future settings, thousands of years in our future, that are still homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic af. Sure, baby steps are made over the course of the book, but they are very much baby-steps: What We Are Seeking ends with a lot of grinding misery in the future of all our characters, with the promise that in a couple of generations things are going to get even worse when the sci fi tech eventually fails. Queer hope? What queer hope? Like: thanks, I hate it! Every single bit of it!
Read the rest at Every Book a Doorway!
~all the cool things are out of sight
~bugs that are mammals that are plants
~killing a tree makes you hetero
Here is the description this had on Netgalley when I requested it (and still has at the time of this writing);
From Cameron Reed, the acclaimed author of The Fortunate Fall, comes a soaring novel of queer hope and transformation, perfect for readers of Ann Leckie and Amal El-Mohtar.
On the planet Scythia, plants give birth to insects and trees can drag you to your death. Artificial monsters stalk the desert, and alien basket-men have wandered into town.
John Maraintha has been abandoned here, light-years from the peaceful forests that he loves.
The desert is harsh and the people in thrall to a barbaric custom called marriage.
He must find some way to make a life here.
But on Scythia, survival means transformation—and not everyone is willing to change.
Having now read it, What We Are Seeking is not a book I would describe as one of ‘queer hope’. And I am so tired of books promising that and just delivering a set-up as bad or worse than what we have in the real world right now.
Which, to be clear, is a failure (or lie) of the book’s marketing, not the author. It’s not Reed’s fault I went into this with the wrong expectations. But whose fault it is doesn’t change my reading experience, unfortunately. That being said, even if the publisher had not called this a queer hope book, I would not have enjoyed it. It was dull and depressing and did the thing of teasing me with seriously interesting things at the edges of the story, but focussing on other stuff I couldn’t care less about instead.
John is unwillingly dropped onto the planet Scythia, a dry, dusty environment populated by settlers from two different cultures, both of them deeply conservative. They don’t trust him because he comes from a matriarchal culture that practices free sex and doesn’t have marriage; he thinks they’re all insane because from where he’s standing, marriage is a barbaric practice. (Very little in the book proves him wrong.) John’s responsibility is caring for Sudharma, a deeply lovely man on Scythia to try and learn the language of the native aliens and determine if they’re another sentient species. John makes friends, learns a bit about the aliens and Scythia’s strange flora and fauna, and is peripheral to the tensions around a teenager who wants to take the vow to become a jess, a nonbinary gender found in the culture of some of the settlers.
And that’s kind of it. There isn’t a big plot, and there’s no impetus, no driving force moving the story along. On a line level, the prose is graceful and lovely; there’s some fantastic asexual and aromantic representation (not the same character, for once!); and the life that’s evolved on Scythia is nicely unique and weird. But the book itself drifts and waffles and meanders, introspective and philosophical rather than having a plot. And normally that wouldn’t be a huge problem for me; the anthropologist-esque eye John turns on the settlers is something I usually quite enjoy. But the settlers’ cultures are deeply boring, patriarchal and Christian and maddeningly conservative. The history and culture around the jesses was fabulous, but we got so little of it, and all of it via being lectured by the one jess character.
Scythia is boring and dry and the people living on it painfully familiar, and I was left longing to explore John’s world, or the delightfully strange culture of the star-ships, instead. I would have been very happy to read a book about jesses on their origin world. To have all this interesting worldbuilding dangled in front of me, but set the story on the dullest of all the worlds we hear about instead…wtf?
There are little hiccups of interest here and there – there’s Vo, the wonderfully odd human from mysterious Earth, joined in some way to the eldritch aiyi, who may just wipe out the humans on Scythia if the aliens turn out to be sentient. John’s relationship with her was refreshing and really fun; Vo is probably my favourite character in the book, functionally neurodivergent because of her connection to the aiyi, but still fully capable of connecting to and caring for other humans. And Sudharma’s quest to understand the basket-men – the aliens – was…intellectually interesting, even if it wasn’t gripping until very near the end of the book. But we barely glimpsed the aiyi, and what they and Vo could do; and the most fascinating aspects of the basket-men’s culture and understanding of the world were dropped on us in the very last pages, with no time to explore them or see them in action. Sudharma is concerned that the settlers might come to enslave the basket-men, but nothing happens in that direction (thankfully, but it still feels like a massive waste of potential plot). Sudharma is also prepared to alter his own brain to better understand the basket-men and their language, something John frets over for much of the book, but
What kind of story is it? Honestly, I don’t know. I find it hugely depressing to look at far-future settings, thousands of years in our future, that are still homophobic, transphobic, misogynistic af. Sure, baby steps are made over the course of the book, but they are very much baby-steps: What We Are Seeking ends with a lot of grinding misery in the future of all our characters, with the promise that in a couple of generations things are going to get even worse when the sci fi tech eventually fails. Queer hope? What queer hope? Like: thanks, I hate it! Every single bit of it!
Read the rest at Every Book a Doorway!
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
My thanks to both NetGalley and Tor Publishing Group for an advance copy of this work of speculative fiction that though set in the far, far future, asks questions that we as a world deal with today, what makes a person, why are so doomed to repeat mistakes, and why is changes something that people love to talk about in tech, but so afraid to do in their own lives, and in their own species.
I came into science fiction through the show Star Trek and the movie Star Wars. Being young, seven and eight, I wanted more of what I saw, and my reading reflected that. Series stories about aliens and battles, cosmic dangers faced by armadas of star fighters with right on their side. As I got older, and found more and more books at tag sales and book sales. this sort of science fiction stayed with me, but I did branch out. I came to the realization that science fiction talks about the future, and what might be, the stories are written about what is happening in the present. Jingoistic tales of men and blasters, endless wars, free love, tainted loved, AI, all things in the media, used as plot points. Some offer solutions, draconian in some, eden-like in others. A few are brave enough to say, we don't know. I know what these characters will do, I don't know what you the reader would do if faced with these same problems. Sometimes leaving questions, questions that stay with the reader. Like this book will stay with me. What We Are Seeking is the long awaited next book by Cameron Reed, a story about the future, how we view ourselves, how we communicate, and how we love, set on a planet that is facing these problems, and far, far more.
John Maraintha was born on a planet where monogamy was frowned on, where men and women had specific tasks, and where being an orphan left him alone in many different ways. John took to the stars, being what he thought was going to be a profession he could use to help his people, a star ship doctor, though John might have been hired for other reasons. John is told that a planet, Scythia, needs a doctor, so he is volunteered to be that doctor. Scythia is a planet that values marriage, values monogamy, and John knows this will be hard for both he and the people on the planet to accept. Scythia is also in a first contact stage, and a translator scholar is being sent with John to learn the ways of this native race. One with very different biological ways of being. John finds himself on a planet that is different in many ways, with under currents that will take him quite a while understand. More difficulties arise as an creature from Earth has appeared, blocking other ships from contacting Scythia while dealing with the first contact situation. Change is coming to the planet, in ways that few can see, nor understand. And John fears what might happen when people are faced with difficult decisions, and even worse changed to way they have always thought about the universe.
I first read Cameron Reed years and years ago, a science fiction story that looking back was remarkably prescient, and really well written. Thirty years later Reed again hits with a story torn from the headlines it seems, asking questions, and blowing minds with so many big ideas on technology, alien races, biology and even the tenants of faith we are grappling with today. This book is excellent, the writing is so good. The ideas, Reed drops more ideas on a page than some books can do in a trilogy. The world is so rich, the universe so creative and wonderful that it feels like the eighth or ninth book in a series. Some books it takes a while to get the groove, this one set the pace about ten pages in and never ever lost the narrative. The characters are rich, especially John, who seems so well nerdy in the beginning, a naive in a mean universe, who really is the linchpin of the whole story. Reed asks many questions. What is life, what is love. What is family. And lets the reader decide. In many ways a sad book, but at the same time a book that says, life if not a life without change. Without difficulty. Without love. Maybe not physical love, but a love of something. Questions I never thought I would read in science fiction.
It's been a few few days since finishing this book and I still can't get it out of my mind. I do hope the Reed comes back to this story, though letting my mind fill in the blanks has been almost as wonderful as reading this book. I book to make one think, one hope, and even care. I hope I don't have to wait for more by Cameron Reed.
I came into science fiction through the show Star Trek and the movie Star Wars. Being young, seven and eight, I wanted more of what I saw, and my reading reflected that. Series stories about aliens and battles, cosmic dangers faced by armadas of star fighters with right on their side. As I got older, and found more and more books at tag sales and book sales. this sort of science fiction stayed with me, but I did branch out. I came to the realization that science fiction talks about the future, and what might be, the stories are written about what is happening in the present. Jingoistic tales of men and blasters, endless wars, free love, tainted loved, AI, all things in the media, used as plot points. Some offer solutions, draconian in some, eden-like in others. A few are brave enough to say, we don't know. I know what these characters will do, I don't know what you the reader would do if faced with these same problems. Sometimes leaving questions, questions that stay with the reader. Like this book will stay with me. What We Are Seeking is the long awaited next book by Cameron Reed, a story about the future, how we view ourselves, how we communicate, and how we love, set on a planet that is facing these problems, and far, far more.
John Maraintha was born on a planet where monogamy was frowned on, where men and women had specific tasks, and where being an orphan left him alone in many different ways. John took to the stars, being what he thought was going to be a profession he could use to help his people, a star ship doctor, though John might have been hired for other reasons. John is told that a planet, Scythia, needs a doctor, so he is volunteered to be that doctor. Scythia is a planet that values marriage, values monogamy, and John knows this will be hard for both he and the people on the planet to accept. Scythia is also in a first contact stage, and a translator scholar is being sent with John to learn the ways of this native race. One with very different biological ways of being. John finds himself on a planet that is different in many ways, with under currents that will take him quite a while understand. More difficulties arise as an creature from Earth has appeared, blocking other ships from contacting Scythia while dealing with the first contact situation. Change is coming to the planet, in ways that few can see, nor understand. And John fears what might happen when people are faced with difficult decisions, and even worse changed to way they have always thought about the universe.
I first read Cameron Reed years and years ago, a science fiction story that looking back was remarkably prescient, and really well written. Thirty years later Reed again hits with a story torn from the headlines it seems, asking questions, and blowing minds with so many big ideas on technology, alien races, biology and even the tenants of faith we are grappling with today. This book is excellent, the writing is so good. The ideas, Reed drops more ideas on a page than some books can do in a trilogy. The world is so rich, the universe so creative and wonderful that it feels like the eighth or ninth book in a series. Some books it takes a while to get the groove, this one set the pace about ten pages in and never ever lost the narrative. The characters are rich, especially John, who seems so well nerdy in the beginning, a naive in a mean universe, who really is the linchpin of the whole story. Reed asks many questions. What is life, what is love. What is family. And lets the reader decide. In many ways a sad book, but at the same time a book that says, life if not a life without change. Without difficulty. Without love. Maybe not physical love, but a love of something. Questions I never thought I would read in science fiction.
It's been a few few days since finishing this book and I still can't get it out of my mind. I do hope the Reed comes back to this story, though letting my mind fill in the blanks has been almost as wonderful as reading this book. I book to make one think, one hope, and even care. I hope I don't have to wait for more by Cameron Reed.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
I received a free copy from Tor Books via Netgalley in exchange for a fair review. Release date April 7th, 2026.
I've heard excellent things about Reed's previous novel, The Fortunate Fall, so I was excited to get a chance to read her latest book. In What We Are Seeking, ship's doctor John Maraintha is unexpectedly assigned against his will to serve on an isolated new colony. Scythia has just discovered a possible new intelligent alien species, and John must navigate the tumultuous first contact while enduring both the colony's very different culture and permanent exile from his home planet.
I was immediately captivated by the strong, confident prose and the anthropological SF bent of the plot, which both reminded me strongly of Ursula Le Guin. Of course, Le Guin would do the same story in a exquisitely spare novella of a hundred-something pages, but that's Le Guin for you. There's a half-dozen odd cultures in What We Are Seeking, and Reed does an excellent job making them feel distinct. From John's fixation on poisons to the Ischnuran three-gender system, the ship-crew's overbearing paternalism, and the Zandahean post-Christ Christianity, cultural differences are the backbone of the story. And of course, it's hard to go wrong writing a first-contact story, the SF answer to the murder mystery. John and his fellow exile, the linguist Sudharma, slowly puzzle out the mystery of who the basket-men are and how their culture works amid the wildly different biology of Scythia. On Scythia, all plants metamorphosize into an animal, which in turn plants the seed of a tree or shrub.
Although What We Are Seeking is set among alien scenery, at its heart the story is about themes closer to home: sex and gender. John comes from a culture that finds marriage an abhorrent, unnatural tie, but his perspective is not entirely validated by the narrative. Yes, the Christian-based marriage as performed on Scythia is restrictive, but mostly due to the confines of patriarchy and heteronormativity. John's culture comes with its own lack of choice—the total separation between father and child, the taboo on reciprocal exchange in specifically sexual relationships, the way a man can't rent an apartment without everybody assuming he's a bottom. Sex is freer, but convention is just as binding.
While John is our only viewpoint character, my favorite character was by far Iren, who is in many ways more central to the fight to shape Scythia's budding culture than John himself. Iren is what we'd probably call asexual nonbinary, but their identity is discussed in terms of Ischnuran culture, where they're a jess, a gender non-conforming person who traditionally swears a vow of chastity. Iren is a lovely character, messy and nuanced and with complex feelings about the traditional celibacy. I do wish they weren't always filtered through John's point of view, though—John does not have a cultural understanding of any of this, and I feel we spend most of the time learning about Iren's experience through John asking insensitive questions. Iren carries a heavy narrative weight as effectively the only trans character who has to constantly explain their experiences, but on some levels that's a deliberate choice Reed has made. As the plot advances, it's slowly revealed that specific prejudices that kept jesses from being included as colonists, and Iren explicitly sees themself as the founder of what it will mean to be a jess on Scythia.
Slow, meditative, and thoughtful, with an excellent touch for writing a wide range of cultures. Reed thoroughly earned the comparison to Ursula Le Guin, and I need to read her earlier novel, The Fortunate Fall, immediately. Highly recommended.
I've heard excellent things about Reed's previous novel, The Fortunate Fall, so I was excited to get a chance to read her latest book. In What We Are Seeking, ship's doctor John Maraintha is unexpectedly assigned against his will to serve on an isolated new colony. Scythia has just discovered a possible new intelligent alien species, and John must navigate the tumultuous first contact while enduring both the colony's very different culture and permanent exile from his home planet.
I was immediately captivated by the strong, confident prose and the anthropological SF bent of the plot, which both reminded me strongly of Ursula Le Guin. Of course, Le Guin would do the same story in a exquisitely spare novella of a hundred-something pages, but that's Le Guin for you. There's a half-dozen odd cultures in What We Are Seeking, and Reed does an excellent job making them feel distinct. From John's fixation on poisons to the Ischnuran three-gender system, the ship-crew's overbearing paternalism, and the Zandahean post-Christ Christianity, cultural differences are the backbone of the story. And of course, it's hard to go wrong writing a first-contact story, the SF answer to the murder mystery. John and his fellow exile, the linguist Sudharma, slowly puzzle out the mystery of who the basket-men are and how their culture works amid the wildly different biology of Scythia. On Scythia, all plants metamorphosize into an animal, which in turn plants the seed of a tree or shrub.
Although What We Are Seeking is set among alien scenery, at its heart the story is about themes closer to home: sex and gender. John comes from a culture that finds marriage an abhorrent, unnatural tie, but his perspective is not entirely validated by the narrative. Yes, the Christian-based marriage as performed on Scythia is restrictive, but mostly due to the confines of patriarchy and heteronormativity. John's culture comes with its own lack of choice—the total separation between father and child, the taboo on reciprocal exchange in specifically sexual relationships, the way a man can't rent an apartment without everybody assuming he's a bottom. Sex is freer, but convention is just as binding.
While John is our only viewpoint character, my favorite character was by far Iren, who is in many ways more central to the fight to shape Scythia's budding culture than John himself. Iren is what we'd probably call asexual nonbinary, but their identity is discussed in terms of Ischnuran culture, where they're a jess, a gender non-conforming person who traditionally swears a vow of chastity. Iren is a lovely character, messy and nuanced and with complex feelings about the traditional celibacy. I do wish they weren't always filtered through John's point of view, though—John does not have a cultural understanding of any of this, and I feel we spend most of the time learning about Iren's experience through John asking insensitive questions. Iren carries a heavy narrative weight as effectively the only trans character who has to constantly explain their experiences, but on some levels that's a deliberate choice Reed has made. As the plot advances, it's slowly revealed that specific prejudices that kept jesses from being included as colonists, and Iren explicitly sees themself as the founder of what it will mean to be a jess on Scythia.
Slow, meditative, and thoughtful, with an excellent touch for writing a wide range of cultures. Reed thoroughly earned the comparison to Ursula Le Guin, and I need to read her earlier novel, The Fortunate Fall, immediately. Highly recommended.
Want to Read
May 22, 2026As heard on Lingthusiasm - A podcast that's enthusiastic about linguistics (116: Cross-cultural communication (in space!))
Sometimes, you're talking with someone and you just seem to click. Other times, you just can't seem to get comfortable: they're standing too close or too far away for comfort, making too much or too little eye contact, touching or not touching you in a way that just doesn't quite feel right. But where do our senses of what feels comfortable in a conversation come from, and how can they be so different from each other?
In this episode, your hosts Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne get enthusiastic about understanding aliens, fantastical creatures, and perhaps the trickiest group of all, other human cultures. We talk about a science fiction book called Hellspark by Janet Kagan (which was recommended by a listener!) which is a murder mystery set on a planet of cross-cultural communication gone wrong, and which sent us on a whole deep dive into the world of proxemics, aka the linguistics of personal space. We also talk about how these early roots of cross-cultural communication studies have shifted in modern-day linguistic anthropology, and compare several newer speculative fiction books about alternative structures for human societies (plus aliens and/or dragons), including What We Are Seeking by Cameron Reed and To Shape A Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose.
Click here for a link to this episode in your podcast player of choice: https://pod.link/1186056137/episode/d...
Read the transcript here: https://lingthusiasm.com/post/8173012...
Announcements:
Check our our updated topics page! It's a great resource if you're not sure what episode to listen to next or what to recommend to someone. We've added some new topics that let you browse, for example, which episodes analyze the linguistic elements of all the science fiction and fantasy that we've been reading! And we've kept the ability to browse episodes by linguistic structural features, which is perfect for when you're looking for an episode to pair with a topic you're teaching or studying. Go to https://lingthusiasm.com/topics
In this month’s bonus episode we get enthusiastic about idioms! We talk about some of our favourite idioms, the interplay between idioms and metaphors, why linguists are so excited about breaking idioms by changing one word slightly, and in particular why "the shit hit the fan" was responsible for multi-hour-long discussions that Gretchen participated in during grad school. (Swear warning, because there's really not another idiom that uh, hits the fan in the same way.)
Join us on Patreon now to get access to this and 110+ other bonus episodes. You’ll also get access to the Lingthusiasm Discord server where you can chat with other language nerds: https://www.patreon.com/posts/156961605
For links to things mentioned in this episode: https://lingthusiasm.com/post/8173009...
https://soundcloud.com/lingthusiasm/1...
Sometimes, you're talking with someone and you just seem to click. Other times, you just can't seem to get comfortable: they're standing too close or too far away for comfort, making too much or too little eye contact, touching or not touching you in a way that just doesn't quite feel right. But where do our senses of what feels comfortable in a conversation come from, and how can they be so different from each other?
In this episode, your hosts Gretchen McCulloch and Lauren Gawne get enthusiastic about understanding aliens, fantastical creatures, and perhaps the trickiest group of all, other human cultures. We talk about a science fiction book called Hellspark by Janet Kagan (which was recommended by a listener!) which is a murder mystery set on a planet of cross-cultural communication gone wrong, and which sent us on a whole deep dive into the world of proxemics, aka the linguistics of personal space. We also talk about how these early roots of cross-cultural communication studies have shifted in modern-day linguistic anthropology, and compare several newer speculative fiction books about alternative structures for human societies (plus aliens and/or dragons), including What We Are Seeking by Cameron Reed and To Shape A Dragon's Breath by Moniquill Blackgoose.
Click here for a link to this episode in your podcast player of choice: https://pod.link/1186056137/episode/d...
Read the transcript here: https://lingthusiasm.com/post/8173012...
Announcements:
Check our our updated topics page! It's a great resource if you're not sure what episode to listen to next or what to recommend to someone. We've added some new topics that let you browse, for example, which episodes analyze the linguistic elements of all the science fiction and fantasy that we've been reading! And we've kept the ability to browse episodes by linguistic structural features, which is perfect for when you're looking for an episode to pair with a topic you're teaching or studying. Go to https://lingthusiasm.com/topics
In this month’s bonus episode we get enthusiastic about idioms! We talk about some of our favourite idioms, the interplay between idioms and metaphors, why linguists are so excited about breaking idioms by changing one word slightly, and in particular why "the shit hit the fan" was responsible for multi-hour-long discussions that Gretchen participated in during grad school. (Swear warning, because there's really not another idiom that uh, hits the fan in the same way.)
Join us on Patreon now to get access to this and 110+ other bonus episodes. You’ll also get access to the Lingthusiasm Discord server where you can chat with other language nerds: https://www.patreon.com/posts/156961605
For links to things mentioned in this episode: https://lingthusiasm.com/post/8173009...
https://soundcloud.com/lingthusiasm/1...
June 10, 2026
Cameron Reed’s What We Are Seeking is a deeply reflective, queer-centric science fiction novel that quietly but radically expands the boundaries of what feels imaginable. It opens with John Maraintha, an Essian doctor aboard a spaceship, being asked to descend to Scythia: a desert colony where marriage structures society, desire is tightly regulated, and contact with a potentially intelligent indigenous species threatens to reshape everything.
The setup initially asks for patience. Reed’s worldbuilding is dense, layered, and unconcerned with simplifying itself for the reader. But once its rhythms click into place, the novel becomes impossible to put down.
At its core, this is a first-contact story, but not in the way science fiction often imagines one. The mystery of Scythia’s basket-men anchors the plot, yet Reed’s real interest lies in what emerges around that encounter: language acquisition, colonization, religion, embodiment, kinship, and the quiet violence of assuming one way of living must be universal.
I was stunned by the breadth of human possibility Reed allows onto the page. Bisexuality, asexuality, aromanticism, non-monogamy, celibacy, patriarchy, matriarchy, Christianity, gender deconstruction, chosen intimacy: these ways of being are placed in conversation rather than flattened into allegory. Reed is attentive to power and willing to show that some systems produce more harm than others, all while resisting easy moral certainty. Instead, the novel keeps returning to a more difficult question: what does it mean to choose your beliefs, your relationships, and your future for yourself?
I adored these characters and the unexpected constellations they formed. And while I admire Reed’s refusal to collapse complexity into neat answers, I’ll admit I closed the final page wanting more time with John and Sudharma. Cameron, if you read this, I’m praying for a sequel! <3
📖 Read this if you love: thoughtful science fiction that prioritizes ideas; first contact stories that interrogate language, ethics, and who gets recognized as fully human; queer speculative fiction that treats sexuality and kinship as cultural questions; and An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon.
🔑 Key Themes: Queerness and Self-Determination, First Contact and Personhood, Colonialism and Environmental Stewardship, Religion and Belief Systems, Chosen Kinship and Alternative Intimacies, Mutual Care and Collective Futures.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Transphobia (moderate), Homophobia (moderate), Religious Bigotry (moderate), Misogyny (moderate), Injury (moderate), Abortion (moderate), Medical Trauma (moderate), Infertility (moderate), Forced Sterilization (moderate), Infidelity (minor), Sexual Content (minor).
The setup initially asks for patience. Reed’s worldbuilding is dense, layered, and unconcerned with simplifying itself for the reader. But once its rhythms click into place, the novel becomes impossible to put down.
At its core, this is a first-contact story, but not in the way science fiction often imagines one. The mystery of Scythia’s basket-men anchors the plot, yet Reed’s real interest lies in what emerges around that encounter: language acquisition, colonization, religion, embodiment, kinship, and the quiet violence of assuming one way of living must be universal.
I was stunned by the breadth of human possibility Reed allows onto the page. Bisexuality, asexuality, aromanticism, non-monogamy, celibacy, patriarchy, matriarchy, Christianity, gender deconstruction, chosen intimacy: these ways of being are placed in conversation rather than flattened into allegory. Reed is attentive to power and willing to show that some systems produce more harm than others, all while resisting easy moral certainty. Instead, the novel keeps returning to a more difficult question: what does it mean to choose your beliefs, your relationships, and your future for yourself?
I adored these characters and the unexpected constellations they formed. And while I admire Reed’s refusal to collapse complexity into neat answers, I’ll admit I closed the final page wanting more time with John and Sudharma. Cameron, if you read this, I’m praying for a sequel! <3
📖 Read this if you love: thoughtful science fiction that prioritizes ideas; first contact stories that interrogate language, ethics, and who gets recognized as fully human; queer speculative fiction that treats sexuality and kinship as cultural questions; and An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon.
🔑 Key Themes: Queerness and Self-Determination, First Contact and Personhood, Colonialism and Environmental Stewardship, Religion and Belief Systems, Chosen Kinship and Alternative Intimacies, Mutual Care and Collective Futures.
Content / Trigger Warnings: Transphobia (moderate), Homophobia (moderate), Religious Bigotry (moderate), Misogyny (moderate), Injury (moderate), Abortion (moderate), Medical Trauma (moderate), Infertility (moderate), Forced Sterilization (moderate), Infidelity (minor), Sexual Content (minor).
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