The big discovery of last year for me was Ivan Belov’s Zastupa series; the third book came out just recently, and I’m going to read it as soon as it starts being sold in an ebook version. In my review I praised the first two books a lot, and someone wrote to me that in that case I absolutely had to read another one that came out in the same The Scariest Book series.
That was The Knówer: Bonds of Hell, co-authored by German Shenderov and Sergey Tarasov. Originally, German Shenderov had written only a short story, “Khryashchekhmyl,” which appeared in his short story collection back in 2022. But later he wrote two more stories about the same character, after which Sergey Tarasov joined the series, and together with Shenderov he finished the book—what has now become a novel in stories. And the original “Khryashchekhmyl” became only the first chapter of this book, changing its title to “Atonement.” And already as a novel, the book came out in 2025.
The recommendation—and then the blurb—won me over. The story is set mostly in 1965, in a small Belarusian village, where a local knówer lives and fights evil spirits. Folklore, and on Belarusian soil that’s native to me… I just couldn’t pass it by.
I love fantasy, especially the kind rooted in Slavic folklore, filled with all sorts of dark creatures. But I only discovered Ivan Belov’s Zastupa series thanks to a review by a friend. I got curious and almost immediately decided to read it — and I have no regrets.
This isn’t just another gothic novel about vampires, even though the main character throughout the series is undead — a vurdalak (actually a vampire) named Rukh Buchila. He serves as the zastupa in a village near Novgorod — that is, the protector of its people from other dark forces, literally the one who “stands up for” them (in Russian — ‘zastupaetsya’).
Although it’s the 17th century and the village is located in Novgorod lands, this isn’t the world we know. In the world of the zastupa, mysterious portals once opened on Earth, unleashing hordes of demons and other monsters. And while humans had long shared the land with other races like the navki and the white-eyed chud’, these new invaders permanently redrew the map.
Ancient Kyiv was besieged and destroyed, some peoples swore allegiance to dark powers and even founded their own empire near the Balkans. The Novgorod Republic managed to defend its lands and independence, though it still occasionally fights with both the Muscovite Tsardom and the Swedes.
People have learned, with great difficulty, to coexist not only with familiar beings like leshies and domovoi, but also with those who came through the portals — not all of whom turned out to be purely bloodthirsty. Even chorts (imps) have found a place in society, and in Novgorod they’re even honored, since it was the chorts who once saved the city. You can’t really trust them, of course — but with the right oversight, even chorts can be useful.
It’s always interesting to read works by new, unfamiliar authors—especially when that author turns out to be the pseudonym of a former colleague. (He’s not actively advertising that “Mikko Vill” is his pen name, but he’s not exactly hiding it either). Creative people tend to be creative in multiple areas, so I wasn’t surprised to learn that this colleague dabbles in various forms of art. But the fact that he also writes books? That one somehow slipped past me.
And now, his novel “Deadly Forest” has been released in the mystical fantasy genre—apparently, the first book in the “Chronicles of Ivar” series. So, of course, I had to give it a try.
The premise is fairly classic: there’s a forest people shouldn’t enter because, well, sometimes they don’t come back. But there are always daredevils who refuse to believe “old folks’ tales” and set out to prove them wrong. And then, the same old folks have to find someone to go in and drag those “skeptics” back out. (That’s as vague as I can be without slipping into spoilers).
Since this book is intended as the first in a series (the author is currently editing the second one), we also get to meet the protagonist, Ivar. He’s the one unlucky enough to be tasked with solving this whole mess—not that he seems too upset about it. He’s a rather odd and reclusive character, the kind people like to call “not of this world.” But precisely because of that, he’s in high demand as a lone warrior who simply does his job—exceptionally well.
I don’t think I’ve written long, thoughtful posts about TV series before. But it’s been months now, and I’m still under the impression of this one—so that must be a sign: I need to speak up.
The story of the band Korol i Shut (The King and the Jester) officially begins in 1988 in the city of Leningrad (now Saint Petersburg) when three classmates—Mikhail “Gorshok” Gorshenev (“Gorshok” in Russian means “pot”), Alexander “Poruchik” Shchigolev (“Poruchik” means “lieutenant”), and Alexander “Balu” Balunov—decided to form a band, initially naming it Kontora (it can be translated as The Office but mostly refers to KGB, I think). However, in 1989, Gorshok met Andrey “Knyaz” Knyazev (“Knyaz” is “Duke”) at a restoration school where they later interned together. They became friends, and Gorshok was deeply impressed by Knyaz’s drawings and lyrics in the style of dark fairy tales. This led to Knyaz joining the band, which a year later adopted its final name, Korol i Shut (The King and the Jester). Knyaz’s depiction of a jester became the band’s iconic emblem, and over the years, the jester in the logo began to resemble Gorshok more and more.
I’m not an expert in music genres, but the band’s work has been described as horror punk, folk punk, and rock. I discovered them around 1998, when their music video Yeli Myaso Muzhiki (Men Were Eating Meat) started airing on various music TV channels. It was a blend of horror, dark humor, and memorable punk rock riffs:
Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is, first, a play—and second, it was written with J. K. Rowling’s involvement, but still not by her alone. Both of those facts affect the way it’s presented. A play doesn’t really need vivid descriptions or direct access to the characters’ thoughts and feelings. You can’t show all that directly on stage; interpretation is the job of a specific director and a specific production. And having two co-writers as well also makes a difference.
Chronologically, the story begins almost exactly where the last novel of the main series ended—where, in the epilogue, we were shown the now-grown-up Harry, Hermione, and Ron seeing their children off to Hogwarts. Among them is Harry’s second son, Albus Severus Potter.
Up to this point, I hadn’t written reviews of any Harry Potter book. I mean, why would I, when tens (if not hundreds) of millions of people have read them already, so everyone knows what they are and what they’re about. But with this play I decided to make an exception.
I thought I would write about the second book of The Battles for Lukomorye a bit later, but then the media started saying that we need to talk more about the heroes of Russian fairy tales — about the likes of Dobrynya and Muromets. Well then, let’s write. Though in reality, the heroes were not nearly as noble as they appear in the tales.
I read the first part of this cycle a year ago and at that time also wrote down my thoughts about the book.
The Battle for Lukomorye is a fictional cycle set in the world of Tales of Old Rus’, which originally began as more of an art project by Roman Papsuev. The last time I thought it was a novel in two parts (since there was already word about plans for a second book). In fact, it turned out that the story does not end with the second volume.
I have already written about this world before, so I will not repeat myself in detail. In short, it is a world built on the motifs of Slavic fairy tales and folklore. The book The Battle for Lukomorye tells of events when the dark forces once again attempt to break into Rus’, while brave Rusichi (and other inhabitants of Belosvetie) strive to resist the followers of Chernobog, remembering how hard the struggle had been the last time, when only at great cost were they able to drive back the hordes of Koschei the Deathless.
The Puppet Master is a novella that was meant to begin the Daradda cycle, but as of today it has remained the only one in it, which is why it is available online under the title Daradda. The Puppet Master. The author, Danil Nesterenko, is not a professional writer; he works in game development, with particular attention to narrative.
And the love of narrative can be felt in the text. Daniil clearly thought through his world and wanted to make it alive and rich. However, the novella contains far too much that the narrator immediately pours onto the reader. You don’t have time to immerse yourself in the world and understand its rules, because right from the start you are almost buried under a huge mass of unfamiliar names, titles, geographic locations, and races. Moreover, as the story unfolds, you realize that the described world is not the only one in this universe — and this realization doesn’t make things any easier. Because you simply cannot grasp the entire layer of information that you are asked to hold in your head. Because of this, it is also not so easy to empathize with the hero’s actions, since the rules of the game in this world, filled also with magic, remain unknown and unclear to you.
At the same time, the novella is written in very beautiful and vivid language. That cannot be taken away from the author. And the book cover is simply excellent (though judging a book by its cover illustration is not the best idea).
However, the story did not turn out coherent. It is a kind of investigative tale, where the main character must figure out what happened to his liege lord’s son. And then it suddenly turns out that this hero is not even human. To the abundance of terminology and races is added a large number of secondary characters. It is clear that the author wants to introduce us to the world, but all these “guns” never fire and only distract. And much about the main character is unclear. Other than the fact that he is a demon and can do all sorts of things… where did he come from? Why? Why does he serve humans? What exactly are his abilities? Why was the assassination attempt plotted? Why did his friend and patron so easily dismiss him after the case was solved? Who are all these people and groups weaving intrigues? There are more questions than answers.
It is clear that this was meant as groundwork for a larger cycle or a novel, but it came out far too concentrated. And on top of that, there is an inexplicable reference to the Witchers, as if there weren’t already enough questions.
You can feel that a vast world with its own rules lives in the author’s mind, but introducing an unprepared reader into it should have been done in smaller portions. And although I cannot say that I really liked the novella, after reading it I realized that I would like to learn more about the hero. Perhaps Danil Nesterenko will eventually finish and rework the cycle so that it becomes easier for the reader to follow the twists and turns. Time will tell.
It’s quite difficult to write about the “Rescuers” collection since this is not just a book but a project to help Ukraine, which is suffering from war. Nevertheless, I’ll still try.
After the war with Ukraine began, many Ukrainians were forced to leave their homes, many suffered, and many, unfortunately, died. Like other cities, for more than six months now, one of the most Russian-speaking cities of Ukraine, Kharkiv, has been subjected to daily bombings. And for me, Kharkiv has always been the capital of Ukrainian science fiction, because it was there that one of the most famous and most prestigious science fiction festivals — “Star Bridge” — was held for many years, organized by Kharkiv residents whom I deeply respect — writers Dmitry Gromov and Oleg Ladyzhensky, better known to readers under the pseudonym Henry Lion Oldie.
It was Oldie who decided to publish the book “Rescuers,” a collection of Ukrainian science fiction of 2022. The title “Rescuers” has a double meaning. First of all, almost all works in the collection are somehow connected with those who help, who save. Secondly, the purpose of this collection is to help Ukraine fight; all money from the sale of this book “will go to help Ukrainians affected by the hostilities in the war unleashed by Russia.” This is the clear position of the authors.
But besides this noble purpose, I still wanted to get acquainted with what modern Ukrainian science fiction represents today, even if in short form. I’ve known and loved Oldie for a long time, but I don’t always have time to follow new and less well-known authors.
Well, the “Tales of Old Rus” project kept growing and evolving, transforming from a hobby into a remarkable universe with its own artbooks, lore, and bestiary. Naturally, the first fictional novel set in this world followed. “The Battle for Lukomorye” was originally planned as two books, with only the first part released so far and the second on its way. Since I’ve been immersing myself in the world of Old Rus quite actively this year, I read the first novel almost immediately after its release.
There is, however, some confusion regarding the authorship of the book. In many stores, it’s listed as having two primary authors: the universe’s creator, Roman Papsuev, and the well-known writer Vera Kamsha. Yet, the book itself also credits three additional writers: Tatyana Andrushchenko, Alexandra Zlotnitskaya, and Elena Tolokonnikova. It’s impossible to discern who contributed what. The book is presented as a collection of novellas, but no individual authors are credited for specific sections. Whether they collaborated on everything together or each worked on separate parts remains unclear—for now, the story doesn’t say.
I’ve often heard that Alexey Pehov’s Wind and Sparks series is perceived as a continuation of The Chronicles of Siala about the thief Garret. To be honest, I used to feel the same way myself, especially after the details of The Chronicles of Siala faded in my memory following my first read. I even thought of it as “the next books after Garret.” Though I knew that wasn’t the case.
The Wind and Sparks series was written between 2005 and 2008. Between it and The Chronicles of Siala, Alexey managed to write The Last Testament (co-authored with Andrey Yegorov) and Under the Sign of the Manticore (which I still consider one of his best novels, by the way).
He also wrote the first half of the Kindret series at the same time as Wind and Sparks. So it’s impossible to say that the next story about Garret followed immediately after The Chronicles of Siala. By this point, Pehov approached his craft as a much more experienced writer.
The events in Wind and Sparks take place in an entirely different universe—it’s not the grim world of Siala’s thief. Although echoes of that world exist, they can easily go unnoticed, especially if there’s a long gap between reading the two series. But if you do catch those subtle connections, it adds an extra layer of enjoyment. There is a link, but the main connecting thread is indeed Garret. I don’t think this is a spoiler, as many have mentioned it before. That said, Garret is far from the main character here, though it would also be unfair to call him a mere supporting role.
