It’s been a long, long time since I enjoyed a bad book so much! OK, that’s a little unfair. To Sleep in a Sea of Stars isn’t really a bad book: it doesn’t push propaganda or advocate for any of the usual nihilistic philosophies that you find undergirding most of modern literary fiction. It just sets out to tell a story, a relatively old-fashioned story at that: a space opera. Galaxy spanning, bouncing planets, a go big story dialled up to the nth power. There were a lot of these in the early days of science fiction but it’s been years since I read anything like this and, yes, I had a blast: sentient symbiotic body suits, evil aliens, FTL drives, battles in space, all the classic tropes of space opera.

It’s great fun to read a story where the writer commits so completely to going BIG with not the slightest consideration of probability. So our heroes can cross the galaxy and arrive at an unknown star to find not only the baddies arriving there too, but previous characters, likewise left thousands of light years away, turning up too. The book is delightfully full of unlikely meetings, a nearly perfect heroine with an unfortunate tendency to accidentally kill the people closest to her, and aliens both evil and ugly.

Objectively, the book breaks many of the fiction writing rules you find in how-to-write-your-novel books, from telling rather than showing through Mary Sue characters to the aforementioned coincidental meetings so by those measures it ought to be terrible. But it isn’t. The sheer enjoyment of the writing carries it through.