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Ruiner
A political fantasy where storytelling is combat magic and ordinary people must fight against exploitation and environmental destruction.
War and physical violence have been rendered obsolete. Now tellers are pitted against each other, spinning tales out of storylight to outmaneuver the other, whether in battle, for glory, or in a bid to stave off poverty and hunger. But the teller must be careful, as a story lost in combat is lost forever—and with it, sometimes, a part of the teller.
Kell is a ritual lorist, trained in her people's legends and tradition of navigating by way of the pulsar stones across the vast and ever-changing desert. A gift from the gods, these ancient stones with their strange heartbeats are their most sacred resource. When the unthinkable happens and the imperial capital of Soogway annexes the stones, mining them for geologic resources, Kell must make her way to the city as an envoy of her clan—and reluctant combat teller, should negotiations fail.
Shade, a scrappy genderqueer street fighter of indeterminate age, is a regular of the illegal underground combat circuit, a fierce survivor of the city’s rougher spots, and a keen storyteller. When offered the chance to better their lot and train for an illustrious prize fight, Shade falls under the influence of a shadowy backer whose unorthodox techniques in story combat reveal capabilities beyond what they’d ever imagined possible. Soon, this taps something already broken in Shade.
Ruiner is the first installment of the Tellers series, an epic fantasy of colliding worldviews that demands its fighters draw on all their resources to stop an encroaching extractivist power. Lush and complex, the story wrestles with trauma, the high cost of resistance, and the nature of violence. Lara Messersmith-Glavin’s depiction of strategy and dedication in the face of despair offers us energy for the times ahead.
War and physical violence have been rendered obsolete. Now tellers are pitted against each other, spinning tales out of storylight to outmaneuver the other, whether in battle, for glory, or in a bid to stave off poverty and hunger. But the teller must be careful, as a story lost in combat is lost forever—and with it, sometimes, a part of the teller.
Kell is a ritual lorist, trained in her people's legends and tradition of navigating by way of the pulsar stones across the vast and ever-changing desert. A gift from the gods, these ancient stones with their strange heartbeats are their most sacred resource. When the unthinkable happens and the imperial capital of Soogway annexes the stones, mining them for geologic resources, Kell must make her way to the city as an envoy of her clan—and reluctant combat teller, should negotiations fail.
Shade, a scrappy genderqueer street fighter of indeterminate age, is a regular of the illegal underground combat circuit, a fierce survivor of the city’s rougher spots, and a keen storyteller. When offered the chance to better their lot and train for an illustrious prize fight, Shade falls under the influence of a shadowy backer whose unorthodox techniques in story combat reveal capabilities beyond what they’d ever imagined possible. Soon, this taps something already broken in Shade.
Ruiner is the first installment of the Tellers series, an epic fantasy of colliding worldviews that demands its fighters draw on all their resources to stop an encroaching extractivist power. Lush and complex, the story wrestles with trauma, the high cost of resistance, and the nature of violence. Lara Messersmith-Glavin’s depiction of strategy and dedication in the face of despair offers us energy for the times ahead.
297 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 31, 2026
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November 27, 2025
It is our stories and our capacity to hear and learn from them that make a Person a Person. Nothing less, nothing more.
I feel like one of the marks of a great fantasy novel is that it makes you wonder how on earth you existed before reading it. I read the Earthsea cycle in my early 20s and immediately started mourning the fact that I hadn’t had that world and those characters in my head when I was a teenager. I needed them then—and apparently I needed Lara Messersmith-Glavin’s Ruiner now.
Ruiner (the first installment of the Tellers series) is a political fantasy set in a world where physical violence has been replaced by storytelling. The main characters, Kell and Shade (both queer, might I add) fight with stories, and if they lose, they lose those stories. This might sound fun and cozy, but it’s not. The stakes are high—defeat would mean the loss of their history, their culture, and their home. Both Kell and Shade are complex, rich characters whose intertwining narratives are so absorbing that I kept forgetting to drink my tea and had to *shudder* microwave it.
In a departure from most fantasy novels, Ruiner doesn’t really have a “good” or “evil.” Messersmith-Glavin doesn’t seem to want you to think about that. There are people trying to live in alignment with the land and each other, and there are people trying to extort environmental and cultural resources and use them for overtly capitalist purposes. And then there are people in the middle of it all trying to survive. Ruiner is, perhaps more than anything, about people.
You need at least two people for everything in this book. There are two protagonists, and both have some kind of foil or double that reveals both their strengths and their vulnerabilities. You need two people to fight. You need two people to activate the pulsar stones (the magical resource that all the kerfuffle is about). No single, gifted individual is going to save the day. Ruiner brilliantly reminds us that we need community if we want to create any kind of effective, sustainable form of resistance.
That kind of communal resistance feels so possible in Ruiner. Messersmith-Glavin’s writing makes everything feel a little more possible. The world-building, which feels both brand new and ancient at the same time, invites us to think more critically about the way our world is built. We see ourselves in the characters, and this gives us things to work on and hope for. So much about the world is broken and challenging and awful, yes—but we have each other. We have old stories and the ability to create new ones if we are willing to learn. We have trees and stars and the smell of after-the-rain-but-before-things-are-dry. And maybe that is enough.
**I beseech you to preorder this book . I was lucky enough to snag an ARC by virtue of being obnoxious.***
I feel like one of the marks of a great fantasy novel is that it makes you wonder how on earth you existed before reading it. I read the Earthsea cycle in my early 20s and immediately started mourning the fact that I hadn’t had that world and those characters in my head when I was a teenager. I needed them then—and apparently I needed Lara Messersmith-Glavin’s Ruiner now.
Ruiner (the first installment of the Tellers series) is a political fantasy set in a world where physical violence has been replaced by storytelling. The main characters, Kell and Shade (both queer, might I add) fight with stories, and if they lose, they lose those stories. This might sound fun and cozy, but it’s not. The stakes are high—defeat would mean the loss of their history, their culture, and their home. Both Kell and Shade are complex, rich characters whose intertwining narratives are so absorbing that I kept forgetting to drink my tea and had to *shudder* microwave it.
In a departure from most fantasy novels, Ruiner doesn’t really have a “good” or “evil.” Messersmith-Glavin doesn’t seem to want you to think about that. There are people trying to live in alignment with the land and each other, and there are people trying to extort environmental and cultural resources and use them for overtly capitalist purposes. And then there are people in the middle of it all trying to survive. Ruiner is, perhaps more than anything, about people.
You need at least two people for everything in this book. There are two protagonists, and both have some kind of foil or double that reveals both their strengths and their vulnerabilities. You need two people to fight. You need two people to activate the pulsar stones (the magical resource that all the kerfuffle is about). No single, gifted individual is going to save the day. Ruiner brilliantly reminds us that we need community if we want to create any kind of effective, sustainable form of resistance.
That kind of communal resistance feels so possible in Ruiner. Messersmith-Glavin’s writing makes everything feel a little more possible. The world-building, which feels both brand new and ancient at the same time, invites us to think more critically about the way our world is built. We see ourselves in the characters, and this gives us things to work on and hope for. So much about the world is broken and challenging and awful, yes—but we have each other. We have old stories and the ability to create new ones if we are willing to learn. We have trees and stars and the smell of after-the-rain-but-before-things-are-dry. And maybe that is enough.
**I beseech you to preorder this book . I was lucky enough to snag an ARC by virtue of being obnoxious.***
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
I was so eager to love this, and I'm heartbroken that I don't - and very jealous of every starry-eyed review. That's what I wanted to feel for Ruiner!
But...I just don't care. Ruiner falls completely flat for me, emotionally - the writing feels heavy and dull, and trying to read this book just sends me to sleep. I don't feel the characters, I'm just watching them, being told what they feel, and as characters they're very two-dimensional, simplistic. I wasn't engaged, and I didn't care how the story was going to go, resolve itself, because no one felt real to me.
It doesn't help that the prose is overwritten, too many awkward adjectives over-describing every person's gesture, voice, mien, ruining the rhythm of a lot of sentences, the tension of a lot of scenes. When you take a moment to describe how the arms of a chair feel in the middle of a High Stakes conversation, you've broken the tension; that kind of thing happens a lot here.
The storytelling-as-combat magic is a ridiculously cool idea, and makes for a fantastic metaphor, but a) I really didn't understand how it worked, though in fairness maybe I would have if I'd finished the book, and b) ...In Heretic's Guide to Homecoming, there are characters who are storytellers, and when we get one of their stories on-page, they are PHENOMENALLY beautiful. As in, I have all those passages bookmarked to marvel over. Ruiner isn't like that, and it's a little difficult to buy into a book treating these stories as Extremely Impressive when...they're not, really. To me, anyway. It's similar to how writing stories about art - dance, painting, music, whatever - is really difficult; storytelling about stories runs into the same kind of difficulties, I think, and Ruiner doesn't overcome them. That makes it very underwhelming, massively undercuts what the book is trying to do.
I am also not really a fan of demonising tech and modernity, which is very much a thing here: cities are BadTM, gadgets handicap you, the only right way to be is a Stone or maybe Bronze Age technology level. It's a lazy, short-sighted, pretty pointless take: humanity is never going to throw away all our advances, and shouldn't, because lots of them are good. There are LOTS of things about modern urban life it would be great to change, but Ruiner doesn't seem to be advocating for change, only for wiping modernity off the map, completely discarding it - not seeming to care about the babies who'd be thrown out with that bathwater. Reading about Kell looking down on her brother depending on a gadget to do what she does naturally made me wonder where disabled people are supposed to exist in her worldview; if we all 'go back to the land', where are a lot of us supposed to get the medications we need to survive? I couldn't physically keep up with Kell's nomadic people, so would they just abandon me in the desert? People pushing this mentality never consider questions like that. And in Ruiner, cities being evil is taken to nonsensical extremes, like the fact that in Shade's home it is ILLEGAL to grow vegetables - not to force people to buy from a state monopoly or anything, but because they're all exported. I can't believe ANY nation would ever do that, because even the cruellest despots understand that if their populace dies from malnutrition they have no one to rule over any more. Like, come on.
Ruiner has a lot of good things to say about some very important topics, but unfortunately the result comes across as a not very interesting lecture rather than an unputdownable novel. I just couldn't click with it.
But...I just don't care. Ruiner falls completely flat for me, emotionally - the writing feels heavy and dull, and trying to read this book just sends me to sleep. I don't feel the characters, I'm just watching them, being told what they feel, and as characters they're very two-dimensional, simplistic. I wasn't engaged, and I didn't care how the story was going to go, resolve itself, because no one felt real to me.
It doesn't help that the prose is overwritten, too many awkward adjectives over-describing every person's gesture, voice, mien, ruining the rhythm of a lot of sentences, the tension of a lot of scenes. When you take a moment to describe how the arms of a chair feel in the middle of a High Stakes conversation, you've broken the tension; that kind of thing happens a lot here.
The storytelling-as-combat magic is a ridiculously cool idea, and makes for a fantastic metaphor, but a) I really didn't understand how it worked, though in fairness maybe I would have if I'd finished the book, and b) ...In Heretic's Guide to Homecoming, there are characters who are storytellers, and when we get one of their stories on-page, they are PHENOMENALLY beautiful. As in, I have all those passages bookmarked to marvel over. Ruiner isn't like that, and it's a little difficult to buy into a book treating these stories as Extremely Impressive when...they're not, really. To me, anyway. It's similar to how writing stories about art - dance, painting, music, whatever - is really difficult; storytelling about stories runs into the same kind of difficulties, I think, and Ruiner doesn't overcome them. That makes it very underwhelming, massively undercuts what the book is trying to do.
I am also not really a fan of demonising tech and modernity, which is very much a thing here: cities are BadTM, gadgets handicap you, the only right way to be is a Stone or maybe Bronze Age technology level. It's a lazy, short-sighted, pretty pointless take: humanity is never going to throw away all our advances, and shouldn't, because lots of them are good. There are LOTS of things about modern urban life it would be great to change, but Ruiner doesn't seem to be advocating for change, only for wiping modernity off the map, completely discarding it - not seeming to care about the babies who'd be thrown out with that bathwater. Reading about Kell looking down on her brother depending on a gadget to do what she does naturally made me wonder where disabled people are supposed to exist in her worldview; if we all 'go back to the land', where are a lot of us supposed to get the medications we need to survive? I couldn't physically keep up with Kell's nomadic people, so would they just abandon me in the desert? People pushing this mentality never consider questions like that. And in Ruiner, cities being evil is taken to nonsensical extremes, like the fact that in Shade's home it is ILLEGAL to grow vegetables - not to force people to buy from a state monopoly or anything, but because they're all exported. I can't believe ANY nation would ever do that, because even the cruellest despots understand that if their populace dies from malnutrition they have no one to rule over any more. Like, come on.
Ruiner has a lot of good things to say about some very important topics, but unfortunately the result comes across as a not very interesting lecture rather than an unputdownable novel. I just couldn't click with it.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
“It is our stories and our capacity to hear and learn from them that make a Person a Person. Nothing less, nothing more.”
Thank you to NetGalley and AK Press for an advanced galley of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Fans of N. K. Jemison and Octavia Butler will love this sweeping and fantastical tale where stories come alive and can be used for the preservation of history–or turned into a weapon.
Ruiner follows two young people on the fringes of society and who must fight for their future. Kell is a teller within the People, part of a nomadic tribe that honors and protects heaven-sent Stones within the desert. When a conquesting empire declares that the Stones now belong to them, Kell must journey on a diplomatic mission to their capital and use her people’s stories to fight for their survival. Shade is a street-rat in the city of Soogway, spending their days scraping winnings together as a story fighter in back alleys. When a mysterious benefactor appears and wants to sponsor them to compete in the highly acclaimed Cycle competition, Shade is introduced to a whole new side of story magic they never knew existed, which comes at a high cost.
Lara Messersmith-Glavin paints a world that is both fierce and beautiful, with ethereal magic that emphasizes the power of storytelling. Through spoken words, tellers can shape their storylight into all manner of shapes and animals–graceful dragons, swift birds, fierce cats. The stories can be used to pass down cultural history, or when needed, to fight an opponent. The creativity of this magic system was absolutely delightful. Each time a new aspect was introduced, it was a marvelous revelation of the possibilities of stories. Ruiner reminds the reader that all stories are magic, and what you choose to do with them has a greater effect than one may realize.
Kell and Shade are the perfect protagonists of this story. They are placed on paths that mirror each other, fighting for survival in a world not meant to benefit them. Both are affected by the tight grip of colonialism, and they call attention to the burden of young, oppressed people who must decide how best to survive. It was gratifying to see their character arcs change throughout the story as they learn more about themselves, come into their power, and challenge the beliefs they’ve always known. Minor characters weave in and out of their paths as well, but each was fully fleshed out and served a purpose to further the plot–and many were a joy to meet!
Ruiner is the first installment in what is sure to be a top-tier fantasy saga. It hooked me from the first chapter and between reading sessions, I could not stop thinking about it. The story is perfectly paced, developing the characters along the way with enough excitement to keep the reader interested, and ending with a cliffhanger that left me wanting more. Messersmith-Glavin has created a breathtaking world, compelling story, and characters whose well-being I genuinely cared about. This may be a hidden gem, but one that promises to stick with readers and reminds them of the power of their own stories, especially ones that come from the heart.
Ruiner releases on March 31, 2026.
Thank you to NetGalley and AK Press for an advanced galley of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Fans of N. K. Jemison and Octavia Butler will love this sweeping and fantastical tale where stories come alive and can be used for the preservation of history–or turned into a weapon.
Ruiner follows two young people on the fringes of society and who must fight for their future. Kell is a teller within the People, part of a nomadic tribe that honors and protects heaven-sent Stones within the desert. When a conquesting empire declares that the Stones now belong to them, Kell must journey on a diplomatic mission to their capital and use her people’s stories to fight for their survival. Shade is a street-rat in the city of Soogway, spending their days scraping winnings together as a story fighter in back alleys. When a mysterious benefactor appears and wants to sponsor them to compete in the highly acclaimed Cycle competition, Shade is introduced to a whole new side of story magic they never knew existed, which comes at a high cost.
Lara Messersmith-Glavin paints a world that is both fierce and beautiful, with ethereal magic that emphasizes the power of storytelling. Through spoken words, tellers can shape their storylight into all manner of shapes and animals–graceful dragons, swift birds, fierce cats. The stories can be used to pass down cultural history, or when needed, to fight an opponent. The creativity of this magic system was absolutely delightful. Each time a new aspect was introduced, it was a marvelous revelation of the possibilities of stories. Ruiner reminds the reader that all stories are magic, and what you choose to do with them has a greater effect than one may realize.
Kell and Shade are the perfect protagonists of this story. They are placed on paths that mirror each other, fighting for survival in a world not meant to benefit them. Both are affected by the tight grip of colonialism, and they call attention to the burden of young, oppressed people who must decide how best to survive. It was gratifying to see their character arcs change throughout the story as they learn more about themselves, come into their power, and challenge the beliefs they’ve always known. Minor characters weave in and out of their paths as well, but each was fully fleshed out and served a purpose to further the plot–and many were a joy to meet!
Ruiner is the first installment in what is sure to be a top-tier fantasy saga. It hooked me from the first chapter and between reading sessions, I could not stop thinking about it. The story is perfectly paced, developing the characters along the way with enough excitement to keep the reader interested, and ending with a cliffhanger that left me wanting more. Messersmith-Glavin has created a breathtaking world, compelling story, and characters whose well-being I genuinely cared about. This may be a hidden gem, but one that promises to stick with readers and reminds them of the power of their own stories, especially ones that come from the heart.
Ruiner releases on March 31, 2026.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
When I reached the halfway point of "Ruiner," I knew that it was a book that would stay with me for a long, long time. I can not recommend it highly enough and am so grateful to NetGalley for an ARC of this book.
A comparison I imagine many readers including me would make is with one of my favorite series, N.K. Jemisin's "The Fifth Season." While the atmosphere of the story isn't quite as bleak, I found similarities in may aspects including obviously the post-apocalyptic fantasy setting, the interludes, how the characters deal with trauma, aspects of the magic system. Truly, one of the biggest strengths of the book was how Messersmith-Glavin does so much with her setting and magic system, making me acutely long to be back in it after I had left (eagerly awaiting Tellers #2 now). No spoilers, but Ruiner also provides the plot twists within its magic system and it's always a delight when a book can manage to make you gasp even when you thought you had everything figured out. Although the world-building is heavy and magic system intricate, I give huge props to Messersmith-Glavin for making it accessible and making it easy for readers to follow along. I was amazed at how easily I was able to step into their world (although obviously I wanted to step right back out.)
The characters, Kell and Shade, were also mostly incredibly engaging. The book’s dual POV had them serve as character foils and their narratives were masterfully woven together. I found them both to be well-rounded and fleshed out, impressive in a book that’s only 300 pages and has so much else going within it. While I found them both sympathetic characters, other readers might have more conflicting thoughts, but truly they’re the product of people just trying to survive in their environment. The themes of resistance, working through trauma, and striving for a better tomorrow were handled with the finesse and nuance I expected and they are so relevant for the current times.
I had very minor detractions that might be more personal than anything. While I was rooting for them throughout and thought that the stakes were kept well-balanced and intense throughout the story, I began to find Kell and Shade a bit repetitive towards the middle and found myself disconnecting until I was pulled back in by a major disruption. This issue was a bit more noticeable with Kell than Shade, but overall, their character arcs and the way they developed was compelling and I can’t wait to see how they’re fleshed out in the sequel. When I loved them, I really loved them. Additionally, I remember the the beginning was a bit rough and didn't immediately captivate my interest because it did seem like generic fantasy that I had read several times before. This couldn't be further from the truth and it soon became very apparent that Messersmith-Glavin is a visionary in the field and has a ton to add to the genre. It just takes a bit of patience to let Ruiner fully ramp up, but when it does, it cemented its spot amongst one of my favorite fantasy series openers.
A comparison I imagine many readers including me would make is with one of my favorite series, N.K. Jemisin's "The Fifth Season." While the atmosphere of the story isn't quite as bleak, I found similarities in may aspects including obviously the post-apocalyptic fantasy setting, the interludes, how the characters deal with trauma, aspects of the magic system. Truly, one of the biggest strengths of the book was how Messersmith-Glavin does so much with her setting and magic system, making me acutely long to be back in it after I had left (eagerly awaiting Tellers #2 now). No spoilers, but Ruiner also provides the plot twists within its magic system and it's always a delight when a book can manage to make you gasp even when you thought you had everything figured out. Although the world-building is heavy and magic system intricate, I give huge props to Messersmith-Glavin for making it accessible and making it easy for readers to follow along. I was amazed at how easily I was able to step into their world (although obviously I wanted to step right back out.)
The characters, Kell and Shade, were also mostly incredibly engaging. The book’s dual POV had them serve as character foils and their narratives were masterfully woven together. I found them both to be well-rounded and fleshed out, impressive in a book that’s only 300 pages and has so much else going within it. While I found them both sympathetic characters, other readers might have more conflicting thoughts, but truly they’re the product of people just trying to survive in their environment. The themes of resistance, working through trauma, and striving for a better tomorrow were handled with the finesse and nuance I expected and they are so relevant for the current times.
I had very minor detractions that might be more personal than anything. While I was rooting for them throughout and thought that the stakes were kept well-balanced and intense throughout the story, I began to find Kell and Shade a bit repetitive towards the middle and found myself disconnecting until I was pulled back in by a major disruption. This issue was a bit more noticeable with Kell than Shade, but overall, their character arcs and the way they developed was compelling and I can’t wait to see how they’re fleshed out in the sequel. When I loved them, I really loved them. Additionally, I remember the the beginning was a bit rough and didn't immediately captivate my interest because it did seem like generic fantasy that I had read several times before. This couldn't be further from the truth and it soon became very apparent that Messersmith-Glavin is a visionary in the field and has a ton to add to the genre. It just takes a bit of patience to let Ruiner fully ramp up, but when it does, it cemented its spot amongst one of my favorite fantasy series openers.
March 31, 2026
Ruiner is playing the long game. This first book sets up the actual story you'll most likely care about by introducing the players, and through what those characters would call "heart tales," the world.
At the start of the book, I thought this might be a new favorite for me because of the lovely prose. The magic system where golden light is generated by telling stories to make a sort of puppet show in lieu of fighting is fascinating, but by the middle I found myself struggling to keep reading.
We are introducted to two protagonists from different cultures: city mouse and country mouse. Both of them are interesting and full of potential, but all Messersmith-Glavin gives us is a repetition of the same two thoughts in each of their heads, and that grows stale. The world-building felt like the most loved and attended part of this narrative, and I sat up straighter every time this was the focus.
I loved the idea the character Wintry brings into the world-building--a bridging of city/country through their version of solarpunk, and would have liked more of that rather than just hints at it (again, long game). I loved the Grove and its potential for lore and mysticism, but it felt like a world of NPCs. I loved the god stories and stones concept, but was alarmed at the doubt being sown for Kell. I loved many individual parts of this novel, but I struggled to stay attentive. And I low-key couldn't stand Kell. I needed her to have a reason for her insecurities and anxieties, and for her to be working on them rather than expecting everyone around her to cater to them. I kept reading for Shade's intriguing problem, as it was a strong hook, but was disappointed by their role in the ending and any lack of resolution or hint of reason for what happened to them.
It's strange to love almost all the parts of a story, but not like the whole. I will most likely give the sequel a try, just to see if Messersmith-Glavin has a deeper story hidden under all this golden light.
Thank you to NetGalley and AK Press for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
At the start of the book, I thought this might be a new favorite for me because of the lovely prose. The magic system where golden light is generated by telling stories to make a sort of puppet show in lieu of fighting is fascinating, but by the middle I found myself struggling to keep reading.
We are introducted to two protagonists from different cultures: city mouse and country mouse. Both of them are interesting and full of potential, but all Messersmith-Glavin gives us is a repetition of the same two thoughts in each of their heads, and that grows stale. The world-building felt like the most loved and attended part of this narrative, and I sat up straighter every time this was the focus.
I loved the idea the character Wintry brings into the world-building--a bridging of city/country through their version of solarpunk, and would have liked more of that rather than just hints at it (again, long game). I loved the Grove and its potential for lore and mysticism, but it felt like a world of NPCs. I loved the god stories and stones concept, but was alarmed at the doubt being sown for Kell. I loved many individual parts of this novel, but I struggled to stay attentive. And I low-key couldn't stand Kell. I needed her to have a reason for her insecurities and anxieties, and for her to be working on them rather than expecting everyone around her to cater to them. I kept reading for Shade's intriguing problem, as it was a strong hook, but was disappointed by their role in the ending and any lack of resolution or hint of reason for what happened to them.
It's strange to love almost all the parts of a story, but not like the whole. I will most likely give the sequel a try, just to see if Messersmith-Glavin has a deeper story hidden under all this golden light.
Thank you to NetGalley and AK Press for an e-arc in exchange for an honest review.
April 8, 2026
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Rounded up for the magic system, as one does, but overall it's a 2.5/5 stars for me and I DNF'd at around the 49% mark.
Prose, beloved. The PROSE. Ask me about prose. I'm dying to talk about prose. To me there's the obvious good prose (the kind that makes you go wowee! I'm illiterate) and the obvious bad prose (self explanatory), but then there's also the secret third prose, which is just prose that you can completely gloss over. The non-entity prose, if you will. This was a brand new (extremely old) secret fourth prose... the kind that obscures the narrative.
I'm always looking at the power of language, the personal and collective history of it, the culture, the identity we encode within it. In Ruiner, this language is weaponised. Stories as combat magic—lose the battle and you lose the story. Which is cool. It's an incredibly novel (pun intended!) concept for magic amongst the slog of new releases in fantasy lately, and yet somehow... the vehicle for execution was just... meh?
I'm a person of reasonable intelligence, so I can admit that maybe I just wasn't at my best while reading this. A little dumb, y'know? Although, aside from all the similes, I found myself wondering where we are as a society with neopronouns? Anyone?
Look, I'm someone who uses third person singular pronouns on the daily, both for myself and my loved ones and my gently-cared-for ones, and the amount of times I had to reread a sentence just to understand if something was supposed to be third person singular vs. third person plural was, honestly, ridiculous. I've seen some very nicely done third person singulars in novels, and I'm not sure if this was simply not as nicely done, or if the writing style just didn't support them? But I think this could have benefited immensely from neopronouns for clarity. Like, neopronouns! Let's try them.
Rounded up for the magic system, as one does, but overall it's a 2.5/5 stars for me and I DNF'd at around the 49% mark.
Prose, beloved. The PROSE. Ask me about prose. I'm dying to talk about prose. To me there's the obvious good prose (the kind that makes you go wowee! I'm illiterate) and the obvious bad prose (self explanatory), but then there's also the secret third prose, which is just prose that you can completely gloss over. The non-entity prose, if you will. This was a brand new (extremely old) secret fourth prose... the kind that obscures the narrative.
I'm always looking at the power of language, the personal and collective history of it, the culture, the identity we encode within it. In Ruiner, this language is weaponised. Stories as combat magic—lose the battle and you lose the story. Which is cool. It's an incredibly novel (pun intended!) concept for magic amongst the slog of new releases in fantasy lately, and yet somehow... the vehicle for execution was just... meh?
I'm a person of reasonable intelligence, so I can admit that maybe I just wasn't at my best while reading this. A little dumb, y'know? Although, aside from all the similes, I found myself wondering where we are as a society with neopronouns? Anyone?
Look, I'm someone who uses third person singular pronouns on the daily, both for myself and my loved ones and my gently-cared-for ones, and the amount of times I had to reread a sentence just to understand if something was supposed to be third person singular vs. third person plural was, honestly, ridiculous. I've seen some very nicely done third person singulars in novels, and I'm not sure if this was simply not as nicely done, or if the writing style just didn't support them? But I think this could have benefited immensely from neopronouns for clarity. Like, neopronouns! Let's try them.
April 8, 2026
Thanks to NetGalley, AK Press and Lara Messersmith-Glavin for this ARC. All opinions are my own.
In Lara Messersmith-Glavin's RUINER, storytelling is a combat technique, and stories can be used and lost. It is a vast world that we explore through our two queer protagonists, Kell and Shade, hailing from different parts, one from the City, and one from Home. Kell is forced to leave her desert Home in pursuit of preventing the City folk from stealing their ancestral stones they use for travelling and guidance, while Shade is an in-universe equivalent of an underground MMA fighter, where stories are used instead of fists, and they are offered a chance at the fight that would help them escape from the confines of the City.
Conceptually, Messersmith-Glavin does a fantastic job. The world-building is the core of the narrative, with clearly established belief systems, traditional and regional customs, and a unique magic system. It is clear that a lot of time and thought have been put into creating this. In fact, it is almost as if the world-building is given more importance than the narrative itself, which despite the stakes, moves slowly. If RUINER started later on in its narrative, it would have been easier to keep the tensions and stakes high. As a reader, you are told the cost of losing, but you never see the consequences, and I found the stakes falling flat for this specific reason.
Despite all the complaints, it is a good story. It has the promise of being great. Now that we have the foundations for the magical system and the rules of the world laid out, the narrative will have time to shine, so count me in for the rest of the series!
April 8, 2026
3.75 rounded up
This book is dense. There’s a lot of world building and story that goes into the first half of the book between Kell and Shade’s pov. There’s also storytelling mixed in between all of the chapters that I haven’t quite figured out about.
The end goes quick and I like all that goes into the climax and ending. I will definitely read the next one.
This book feels very sci fi fantasy to me. I don’t remember how it was marketed so that I suppose is irrelevant.
I look forward to the way Shade copes with what happened in the next book and how Kell will bond with them (hopefully platonically) moving forward.
Shade is nonbinary and it’s never mentioned in the book as anything less than normal. They use only they/them pronouns. And tbh I’m pretty sure everyone is queer in one way or another. I really liked that those facts just existed in the book.
Thank you NetGalley for sending me this arc!
This book is dense. There’s a lot of world building and story that goes into the first half of the book between Kell and Shade’s pov. There’s also storytelling mixed in between all of the chapters that I haven’t quite figured out about.
The end goes quick and I like all that goes into the climax and ending. I will definitely read the next one.
This book feels very sci fi fantasy to me. I don’t remember how it was marketed so that I suppose is irrelevant.
I look forward to the way Shade copes with what happened in the next book and how Kell will bond with them (hopefully platonically) moving forward.
Shade is nonbinary and it’s never mentioned in the book as anything less than normal. They use only they/them pronouns. And tbh I’m pretty sure everyone is queer in one way or another. I really liked that those facts just existed in the book.
Thank you NetGalley for sending me this arc!
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Ruiner's biggest strength is its unique magic system. Telling stories that manifest into creatures that can be used in a variety of ways including combat? Pretty cool.
I do think some of the themes of colonialism and capitalism were a little heavy-handed, but overall this aspect was fine.
I liked the characters. Kell is probably the weakest for me but I liked Shade and the complexity of Kell's brother, Jor.
Overall a fairly solid read. Not sure it's actually quite 4 stars for me but higher than 3 stars and I'll be happy to read the sequel.
I do think some of the themes of colonialism and capitalism were a little heavy-handed, but overall this aspect was fine.
I liked the characters. Kell is probably the weakest for me but I liked Shade and the complexity of Kell's brother, Jor.
Overall a fairly solid read. Not sure it's actually quite 4 stars for me but higher than 3 stars and I'll be happy to read the sequel.
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