Among Others (Hugo Award Winner - Best Novel)

Among Others (Hugo Award Winner - Best Novel)

Jo Walton

Language: English

Pages: 304

ISBN: 0765331721

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Among Others (Hugo Award Winner - Best Novel)

Jo Walton

Language: English

Pages: 304

ISBN: 0765331721

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Winner of the 2011 Nebula Award for Best Novel

Winner of the 2012 Hugo Award for Best Novel

Startling, unusual, and yet irresistably readable, Among Others is at once the compelling story of a young woman struggling to escape a troubled childhood, a brilliant diary of first encounters with the great novels of modern fantasy and SF, and a spellbinding tale of escape from ancient enchantment.

Raised by a half-mad mother who dabbled in magic, Morwenna Phelps found refuge in two worlds. As a child growing up in Wales, she played among the spirits who made their homes in industrial ruins. But her mind found freedom and promise in the science fiction novels that were her closest companions. Then her mother tried to bend the spirits to dark ends, and Mori was forced to confront her in a magical battle that left her crippled--and her twin sister dead.
Fleeing to her father whom she barely knew, Mori was sent to boarding school in England-a place all but devoid of true magic. There, outcast and alone, she tempted fate by doing magic herself, in an attempt to find a circle of like-minded friends. But her magic also drew the attention of her mother, bringing about a reckoning that could no longer be put off...
Combining elements of autobiography with flights of imagination in the manner of novels like Jonathan Lethem's The Fortress of Solitude, this is potentially a breakout book for an author whose genius has already been hailed by peers like Kelly Link, Sarah Weinman, and Ursula K. Le Guin.
One of School Library Journal's Best Adult Books 4 Teens titles of 2011
One of io9's best Science Fiction & Fantasy books of the year 2011

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I’ve been making little fires for years. I knew what I was doing. Even if I hadn’t, I was a long way from any buildings, the ground is waterlogged from all the rain, and the ditch is full of water. There were also a lot of wet leaves I could have scuffed over it if there had been the slightest danger, which there wasn’t. I accepted the order marks, because I definitely didn’t want the matter to be passed on to a teacher. Better to keep them out of it. Ruth also confiscated my matches. It’s a

seem dead. Another letter. I’m going to have to burn them again. I almost want to know if she’s said anything about what I did. I’d like to have confirmation. Though I know it worked. I handed my poem in. Miss Lewes looked at it but didn’t say anything. Miss Gilbert, who teaches English to the Sixth Form, will be judging. I’m hoping there’ll be some books waiting for me at the library tomorrow, because I’m almost through with what I have. I’m reading Nine Princes in Amber again. I keep

the school building and turn around and look at the lights, which seem orange in the twilight. It reminds me somehow of coming home from school with Gramma and Mor on some special day near Christmas, one of us holding each of her hands. Maybe her school had finished a day before ours and she’d come to meet us. We were still in the Infants, I expect we were about six. I just remember holding her hand and looking back at the lights with the sky not quite dark. It makes me melancholy to remember,

lending them books just when I’ve got it into their heads.” “I could buy my father a book,” I said. “I certainly have to buy him something. But it’s so hard to know what he has.” “What does he like?” Janine asked. “Oh, SF,” I said. “Is that how you started liking it?” “No. I didn’t meet him until quite a short time ago, and I’ve been reading it for ages.” “You didn’t meet your—” she began, and then stopped and looked away. She shifted her bags to her other hand, and when she spoke it was in

does that. It has just belatedly occurred to me that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. I don’t suppose he’ll take any notice of it—or will he? I don’t have the foggiest. Miss Carroll thinks he might, and that I should have something ready to produce if he does. The problem with that is that I don’t have anything. She suggested a book—well, she would!—and that would be a terrific idea if there was time to go to a bookshop. I could make him a card. Well, except that nobody would want a card I’d made. I

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