It seems like every time I go to the library, there's a new T. Kingfisher book on the shelves. Partly, this is because I slept on a good thing for too long and am playing catch-up. I thought I loved A House With Good Bones the best, until I snagged a copy of Swordheart.
After listening to a few of her episodes of Ditch Diggers, I feel like of all of T. Kingfisher's books, this one is the most in the voice of the author. Not that the others don't also feel as if they're also written by the same author, but it was almost like I could hear her reading Swordheart aloud in my head.
Weird, maybe.
But it made me think a lot about what it means to have an authorial voice, rather than a voicey character. I wonder what pieces of my real, actual human voice translate into my works, and whether I will ever be able to recognize those aspects.
Musings aside, this book was a joy. It is full of ridiculousness and sarcasm and heart, and it was just so fucking fun. I will continue to snatch up every Kingfisher book I spot on library shelves.
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