Review of Stars, Hide Your Fires by Jessi Leiby
When I first stumbled upon Stars, Hide Your Fires, the title sparked my curiosity. It evokes a sense of mystery and grandeur, and with the backdrop of space, I thought I was diving into an enchanting adventure. As I soon discovered, however, the execution left me searching for clarity where the title promised intrigue.
Set on the impoverished moon of Sarn, the story follows Cass, a resourceful thief with dreams of saving her sick father. The setup is compelling. Who doesn’t love a tale centered around a daring heist at an emperor’s ball? However, the plot quickly spirals into chaos when Cass becomes embroiled in a murder plot, landing her in a high-stakes game with Amaris, a rebel operative. While I appreciated the potential for deep character interactions and thrilling tension, I found myself feeling more like a passive observer than an invested reader.
One of my principal grievances with the book is its pacing. The story rushes headlong from one event to the next, which initially hooked me—it felt like being on the edge of a rollercoaster. But as the breaks were consistently skipped, I found myself yearning for moments to pause and connect with the characters and their motivations. The stakes felt oddly flat despite the looming threat of death, and obstacles were overcome with such ease that my investment diminished. It’s as if the characters were racing against the clock, but without a sufficient build-up of emotional stakes to lend urgency to their plight.
The murder plot twist, which should have elevated the narrative, ultimately stumbled under the pressure of this frenzied pace. Though there were moments of surprise, the resolution felt rushed—like the author opted for the easiest route to tie up loose ends rather than crafting a satisfying conclusion. I left the book wondering how the pieces fit together rather than ready to celebrate a clever resolution.
I also grappled with the world-building. With its myriad factions and political nuances, the setting baffled me rather than enveloping me. I couldn’t quite discern the differing cultures or geographies, leaving me with a disjointed vision of the galaxy. It’s a shame because a well-developed universe can transform a story, but here, the depth was lost in infodumps that felt overwhelming rather than engaging.
On a brighter note, I appreciate the representation present in the book. The LGBTQ+ characters were woven into the narrative as seamlessly as the stars in the sky, making their identities feel authentic rather than perfunctory. This is an aspect I deeply value, and it raised my spirits in what turned out to be a somewhat disappointing read.
So, who might enjoy Stars, Hide Your Fires? If you love fast-paced plots and don’t mind a lack of depth in character or world-building, this might still be worth a try. Fans of light space adventures who love a bit of whimsy and don’t require intricate plots might find this book more enjoyable than I did.
In sum, while I found Stars, Hide Your Fires to be a scattershot experience that kept me at arm’s length from its characters and stakes, it’s important to remember that every reader has unique preferences. Your journey through this space opera may very well take you to surprising new heights, even if mine was a bit of a crash landing.