I dare say Bia and I don't share exactly the same literary taste — and at the same time, she is one of the people most responsible for expanding the genres on my shelves, with a curation of books I would never have chosen on my own. But that I almost always end up enjoying. Or even loving, as was the case here.

a pack of b*tches

I joined Dahlia de la Cerda’s pack without knowing what I was getting myself into. No expectations, minimal context — and completely enchanted by the cover art by María Fragoso Jara on the brazilian edition of the book.

What I found: 13 impeccable, moving, gut-punch short stories that blend some of the best elements of Latin American literature: social critique, magical realism, and raw testimony. And every single protagonist is a woman.

who are these women

The protagonists of the thirteen stories in Reservoir Bitches are women marked by violence, though the passive form hardly does them justice.

In a book as fearless as it is original, Dahlia de la Cerda arms each of her heroines with an unstoppable desire for revenge. Yuliana is an influencer and cartel heiress. Regina is a young woman willing to do anything to climb the social ladder. Karla, La China, is a mother and a hired killer. Alongside them: sex workers, devout women, witches, laborers, university students — all of them ready to fight back, guided by their own particular ethics.

These heroines are also bitches, strays, sinners. Some are truly devious, others are women of God. And yet they are all bitches, fiercely their own, trying to survive and, if lucky, figure out their lives beyond any stereotype.

Their antagonist, directly or indirectly, is always the same: a sexist society with elements that feel uncomfortably familiar to any woman from Latin America. But make no mistake, this is not a manifesto. There are no moral lessons, no demands. Just brutal realism, even when it’s fantastical.

Of the 13 stories, Yuliana, Constanza, La China, and Regina enchanted me most in the way they interweave, showing the distinct realities of four women whose lives are tangled in a web of revenge, power, and violence, whether they are the ones giving orders, suffering, or pulling the trigger.

According to Dahlia, the origin of this multi-perspective story lies in corridos — a narrative musical genre focused on telling stories, legends, and the exploits of political figures, lovers, and cartel characters.

He always courted me the old-fashioned way. He brings me enormous bouquets of flowers and clothes, takes me on trips, gave me my little lion, had three corridos composed in my honor. He is very romantic and drives me crazy. — excerpt from the story Yuliana.

References to music and contemporary pop culture appear throughout with real skill, in a very organic and natural way, like a conversation between friends. Even Anahí — singer, actress, entrepreneur, former RBD member, and former first lady of the state of Chiapas — makes an appearance at one point.

At the same time, tradition is never set aside. Two stories bring fantastical elements straight from local folklore, by the way, complete with supernatural beings, healer witches, and folk magic.

who i recommend reservoir bitches to

• fans of Latin American literature and magical realism

• anyone who has ever felt like a bitch in the best possible sense of the word 🐾

this review was originally published on my other newsletter, de pantufas. if you read portuguese, you’re welcome to wander there too. 🖤

Thank you for reading, and for being the kind of person who makes it to the end. I hope this one finds its way to you.

See you on the next odd page,

isadora ꩜ odd pages only

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my 1,000-page obsession

My first contact with this story was during my early teens when I saw the 2002 movie adaptation starring Jim Caviezel (who recently fell from grace portraying a certain former Brazilian president in a very shady bio-fiction movie, but I digress). Back then, the plot twists blew my mind. I think I even tried to read a “teen-friendly” abridged version afterward, but it didn’t leave a mark.

Thankfully, in 2023, I decided to tackle a “big classic” just to feel something. I remembered that middle-school movie and picked up the unabridged doorstop. I flew through it so fast I couldn’t believe it was over 1,000 pages long. It was brilliant, wonderful, and cured something in me I didn’t even know was hurting. It was a life-changing experience, and I’ve been chasing that high ever since.

filling the historical gaps

However, I have to admit I was a bit ignorant about the time period. I knew the basics—French Revolution, guillotines, Marie Antoinette, Louis XIV, Jacobins, and then Napoleon—but only the “history class” version. I felt like my reading of Dumas would improve if I actually understood the world he was writing about.

I’m not above taking a history course, but for now, I don’t need to. I have Tom Reiss’s book, The Black Count.

the black count by tom reiss

I decided to read The Black Count after seeing Mars’ TikTok pitching it as the history of “the real Count of Monte Cristo.” I was sold instantly. Not only that, but I bought it even though I was technically supposed to be saving money. No regrets.

Tom Reiss is a Pulitzer Prize winner, and it shows. This is a biography that reads like an adventure novel—engaging and fast-paced without sacrificing historical detail.

The subject certainly helps: General Thomas-Alexandre Dumas. He was the father of the author Alexandre Dumas and a massive inspiration for his son’s works. Beyond that, he was a half-Black man born in what is now Haiti—the son of a French Marquis and an enslaved woman, Marie-Cassette Dumas. He eventually renounced his father’s name and title to carve his own path in the French army, becoming one of the greatest heroes of the Revolution.

@mars.libraryyyThe Real Count of Monte Cristo How Alexandre Dumas wove elements of his father’s story into the Count of Monte Cristo… There are so many videos and articles out there about this but this is something I recently learned after the Black Count was recommended to me! #booktok #classics #booktokfyp #bookrecommendations #classicliterature

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We follow Thomas-Alexandre’s story from before his birth, when his father, the Alexandre Antoine Davy de la Pailleterie, left France for a sugar plantation in Saint-Domingue. We see Thomas-Alexandre return to France with his father, receive a top-tier education, and charm the Parisian elite with his wit and looks. After a falling out with his father, he enlisted in the army as a private and rose through the ranks by sheer talent and strength. He was admired (and envied) by everyone—including Napoleon himself. His greatness was his blessing, but eventually, it became his curse.

Reiss masterfully weaves biographical details, letters, and documents into a vivid tapestry of the French Revolution. In parallel, he opens a dialogue with the memoirs of the younger Alexandre Dumas, who lost his father when he was only four. Reiss shows exactly how the General’s life provided the DNA for characters like Edmond Dantès.

I’m not going to lie: this book made me desperately want to reread The Count of Monte Cristo immediately. This time, I’ll have the context of the history, the author’s background, and the towering figure of his father. It was a 5-star experience and the perfect companion to one of my favorite books of all time.

who i recommend the black count to

• fans of The Count of Monte Cristo and/or The Three Musketeers (obviously)

• biography and history buffs

• historical fiction lovers who want the “true” version

Thank you for reading, and for being the kind of person who makes it to the end of a long review. I hope this inspired you to read about a Dumas, or finally pick up a book by a Dumas.

See you on the next odd page,

isadora ꩜ odd pages only

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During the last quarter, I read 26 books from different genres. Of those, 11 fell between ⭐⭐⭐⭐ and ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐, two of them became life-favorites, and I’m going to share five of these readings with you right now. Enjoy!

😱 a semi-definitive list of worst nightmares, by krystal sutherland

I first read Krystal Sutherland in 2024, and I had the best time with The Invocations and House of Hollow, both leaning toward a darker, witchy thriller-fantasy side. At the very beginning of this year, I was missing Krystal’s words and worlds, and decided to try a softer, slightly more magical YA of hers.

If Krystal Sutherland were from Latin America, I’d say A Semi-Definitive List of Worst Nightmares could pass as magical realism. But in a way, I think she drinks from that source regardless — directly or indirectly.

In this book, we meet two lovely teenagers, Esther and Jonah, who find courage and magic in life through the power of friendship. I know, it sounds like a cliché, but there’s a twist: Esther Solar is trying to find Death himself, in order to ask him to free her family from their curse. Every Solar has died from their biggest fear ever since Grandpa Solar crossed paths with Death during the Vietnam War.

When I say Esther and Jonah are lovely, I mean truly lovely. They were friends in kindergarten, grew apart, and then reconnected in their final year of high school — facing personal and family drama, while Jonah quietly makes it his little project to help Esther confront every single one of her fears, so she can finally meet Death.

Despite being a YA fantasy with two teenage protagonists, the story doesn’t shy away from serious and heavy subjects: psychological and physical suffering, mental illness, domestic violence, and a whole gallery of phobias. Overall the book is joyful and fun, but I’ll admit — I cried in very different chapters. Laughing until I cried, and crying until I laughed.

🌀 tiny experiments, by anne-laure le cunff

I have a very specific rule for taking non-fiction self-improvement books seriously: it has to be written by a woman. Because, well, I don’t trust advice given by men. They don’t know shit. I also really appreciate a scientific approach over one based purely on individual experience — and that’s exactly what I found in Tiny Experiments by Anne-Laure Le Cunff.

Le Cunff is a French-Algerian author, neuroscientist, and the founder of Ness Labs — a newsletter with more than 100,000 subscribers, focused on creativity and innovation.

In this book, she invites us to run tiny experiments within our own lives, focusing on learning and development to better understand what we actually want, and what genuinely makes sense for us.

🪞 hemlock & silver, by t. kingfisher

A creative and utterly charming retelling of Snow White and, somehow, also a love letter to science.

We follow Anja, a poison researcher and healer summoned by the king to help Princess Snow, who has fallen ill following her mother’s death. Armed with a rational, scientific mind and a gloriously blunt set of social skills, Anja finds herself tangled in court gossip and a series of apparently magical mirrors. But there must be a scientific explanation for everything… right?

With the help of her bodyguard, Anja tries to decode what she finds and help Snow along the way, so the young princess can finally be cured — all while navigating a world that keeps throwing the inexplicable at someone who deeply prefers the explicable.

What I love most about Anja is her commitment to professionalism in the face of complete chaos, without ever losing that childlike wonder and curiosity about the world. A true scientist. And I adore following a 35-year-old woman who falls for a brooding man and realizes: it’s okay to wish for love, but she won’t lose herself in the name of it.

That’s what I love about T. Kingfisher’s fantasy: mystery, mature heroines, and yes, very real love (even if it's just crumbs. I live for those crumbs), all wrapped in a whimsical, witty, utterly charming package. A huge shoutout to Jennifer Pickens, the incredible narrator who lent her voice to Anja — she made every scene land exactly as it should.

🪶 vamos comprar um poeta, afonso cruz

An odd one, and I mean that as the highest compliment.

Vamos Comprar um Poeta is exactly the kind of book that was written for those of us who love literature, art, and books a little too much. Afonso Cruz is a Portuguese author who builds worlds that feel like they were assembled in a fever dream: warm, strange, literary, and full of unexpected tenderness.

In this novel, a poet is literally purchased, and what unfolds is a meditation on value, beauty, language, and what it means to make something in a world that doesn’t always know what to do with art. It’s short, it’s odd, it’s quietly devastating, and it’s the kind of book you’ll want to press into someone’s hands without explaining why.

❤️‍🔥 reservoir bitches, by dahlia de la cerda

I joined Dahlia de la Cerda’s pack in Reservoir Bitches without knowing what I was getting myself into. No expectations, minimal context, and completely enchanted by the cover art (the Brazilian edition features a stunning illustration by María Fragoso Jara).

What I found: 13 sharp, stunning, gut-punch short stories blending the best of Latin American literature: social critique, magical realism, and raw testimony. And every single protagonist is a woman.

These women are also bitches, strays, sinners. Some are truly devious, others are women of God. There are politicians and criminals, mothers and those who choose not to be. And yet, they are all bitches, fiercely their own, trying to survive and, if lucky, figure out their lives beyond any stereotype.

Their antagonist, directly or indirectly, is always the same: a sexist society with elements that feel uncomfortably familiar to any woman from Latin America. But make no mistake — this is not a manifesto. There are no moral lessons, no demands. Just realism, even when it’s fantastical.

What makes this book so beloved across Mexico and Latin America is exactly that mix of folklore, contemporary culture, and raw reality. Long listed for last year's International Booker Prize, it reached not only literary circles but also the readers intellectuals tend to dismiss — women who found their own stories, their mothers’, their daughters’, in Dahlia’s words.

pick your next odd page

I’m working on something special — and I want you to help me choose the topic.

Every now and then, odd pages only goes a little deeper: a longer piece, a more personal read, something that sits between essay and love letter to literature. And the next one is yours to decide.

Below are a few directions I’ve been thinking about. Vote for the one that calls to you most, and I’ll follow the story wherever it leads.

👇 Which topic should the next special article explore?

Thank you for reading, and for being the kind of person who makes it to the end of a long post about books. That already tells me everything I need to know about you.

These five were only a handful of what the first quarter brought me, and I have a feeling the rest of the year will be just as full of strange and wonderful stories. I hope some of these find their way to you.

See you on the next odd page,

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odd books for odd people. speculative fiction, literary wanderings & the occasional everything else — written by @ introvertisa ( ), in english this time.

And you might have thought: what on earth is speculative fiction? Or perhaps you assumed I was just talking about fantasy and sci-fi, which, to be honest, is not completely wrong. But it’s not completely right either.

so, what is speculative fiction?

Also known as speculative literature, the term has a surprisingly complicated history for something that sounds so straightforward. And according to Professor Marek Oziewicz of the University of Minnesota, writing for the Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Literature, the term has three historically located meanings:

1. A Human-Centric Subgenre: A branch of science fiction that prioritizes human sociology and psychology over technological advancement.

2. The “Possible Future” Genre: A category defined in opposition to science fiction, focusing strictly on futures that are grounded in realistic possibility.

3. An Umbrella Category: A broad “super-category” encompassing all genres that intentionally deviate from the “consensus reality” of our daily lives.

That third meaning is the one I have in mind when I call myself a speculative fiction reader.

In this sense, speculative fiction includes fantasy, science fiction, and horror, but also their derivative genres. I mean, dystopian like The Hunger Games, magic realism masterpieces like One Hundred Years of Solitude, and alternate-history fiction books like The Years of Rice and Salt are all under of the speculative fiction umbrella. In other words: it’s a very large tent. And I love living in it.

what is the difference between fiction and speculative fiction?

But if speculative fiction is so broad, what distinguishes it from just fiction?

Well, let’s start with the basics: all speculative fiction is fiction, but not all fiction is speculative. The distinction comes down to one question: does the story depart from the reality we know?

Realistic fiction, even when it's set in a historical period or deals with extraordinary circumstances, stays within the bounds of what is or was actually possible.

But speculative fiction does not. It may depict an entirely imaginary universe, one where the laws of nature don't strictly apply (fantasy), actual historical moments that concluded in entirely imaginary ways (alternate history), or technology that defies current scientific understanding (science fiction).

what are the subgenres of speculative fiction?

This is where it gets fun, because the family is big and wonderfully messy. Here are the main branches:

• 🧙 Fantasy: Stories set in worlds where magic, mythical creatures, or supernatural forces are real and central to the narrative.1

• 🛸 Science Fiction (Sci-Fi): Stories grounded in scientific or technological speculation. What happens when AI becomes conscious? What does space colonization actually look like? What does humanity do when the planet stops cooperating?

• 💀 Horror: Fiction designed to unsettle, disturb, and frighten, often through supernatural or psychological means.

• 🦋 Magic Realism: A more literary mode where magical elements exist quietly within an otherwise realistic world, often rooted in specific Latin American cultural traditions.

• 📜 Alternate history: Stories where a key historical event goes differently, and we follow the consequences.

• 👁️ Weird Fiction: Deliberately strange, liminal, uncanny. It typically mixes elements from fantasy, sci-fi, and horror.

These categories bleed into each other constantly, which is part of what makes speculative fiction so endlessly interesting.

what is the history of speculative fiction?

Most scholars agree that science fiction writer Robert A. Heinlein helped popularize the phrase in his 1947 essay “On the Writing of Speculative Fiction”, using it to differentiate his work from the sensationalist sci-fi he saw in pulp magazines. He wanted a term that took the genre seriously as literature.

The debate didn't stop there. Margaret Atwood also adopted the term to define her dystopian novels, viewing science fiction as stories about things that cannot happen, and speculative fiction as stories about things that could. But one of my favorite writers, Ursula K. Le Guin pushed back on Atwood's distinction in a 2009 piece for The Guardian, sparking a wider literary argument about where exactly the lines should fall.

What's fascinating is that even the disagreement is productive. As Professor Oziewicz notes, there are more questions than answers when it comes to speculative fiction, and the ongoing discussion about its definition has generated more insight than any single answer ever could.

The truth is, the term keeps expanding because literature keeps expanding.

and where is speculative fiction now?

Doing extremely well, thanks for asking.

Speculative fiction, encompassing fantasy, science fiction, and dystopia, remains one of the most dynamic areas of contemporary publishing, with epic fantasies and intricate world-building continuing to captivate audiences.

At the same time, genre boundaries are dissolving faster than ever: the gap between horror and other types of speculative fiction, for example, has narrowed significantly, leading to an increase in gothic fantasy and romance, dark fantasy, and sci-fi horror. There are even new portmanteau genres being coined in real time, like “horromantasy” (horror + romance + fantasy).

The social, political, and environmental uncertainties of the 2020s have also driven readers toward speculative fiction that explores the potential consequences of today’s challenges, with a growing interest in dystopian and post-apocalyptic themes, and a new subgenre called hopepunk, where optimism and the fight for positive change are central to the narrative.

Meanwhile, speculative fiction is finally becoming more genuinely global. The rise of Afrofuturism, Latin American speculative fiction, and other culturally rich subgenres represents a response to the demand for diverse voices, providing fresh perspectives and stories that might not fit into traditional publishing molds.

why read speculative fiction?

I mean, why not? Speculative fiction allows us to experience everything at once.

We can read about colonialism through the metaphor of a silver-working magic system (yes, I’m talking about Babel, by R. F. Kuang). We can read about the quiet devastation of late capitalism through a generation ship running out of resources. We can read about female rage through fairy tale retellings, about queerness through found families of supernatural beings, about motherhood through post-apocalyptic survival.

Speculative fiction helps us to make sense of it. It takes the things that are too big or too painful or too strange to look at directly and finds a different angle, a slant of light, that makes them visible.

And sometimes, it’s just genuinely fun to read about a vampire who is also a real estate agent trying to sell a haunted house. That too.

who is speculative fiction for?

Everyone, to be honest.

I know the genre has a reputation for being intimidating, especially on the high fantasy and sci-fi ends. But I assure you, there is a door for every kind of reader. The only requirement is a willingness to ask: what if?

I could talk about these “what ifs” forever, but I’d much rather hear from you. What genre inside the speculative fiction umbrella are you itching to explore further?

If you’re looking for a curated list or want to dive deeper into the difference between high and low fantasy, just let me know!

Drop a comment or hit reply to tell me what you’re curious about. I’m here to accompany you through the woods (haunted or otherwise).

Leave a comment

yours in odd pages,

isadora ꩜ odd pages only

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sources & further reading

• Atwood, Margaret. In Other Worlds: SF and the Human Imagination.

• Celadon Books. “What is Speculative Fiction?“

• Heinlein, Robert A. “On the Writing of Speculative Fiction” (1947).

• Le Guin, Ursula K. “The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood". The Guardian (2009).

• Myers Fiction. “Speculative Fiction: How to Navigate the Marketplace“ (2024).

• Oziewicz, Marek. “Speculative Fiction.” Oxford Research Encyclopedia of Literature (2017).

• Publishing Flowers. “Fiction Book Trends in 2025: A Comprehensive Analysis.”

• Wicked Ink Publishing. “Fiction in Focus: Publishing Trends of 2024 and Beyond.”

• Wikipedia. “Speculative Fiction.”

In 1828, a boy is orphaned by the wake of cholera in Canton, China. Under the name Robin Swift, he is taken to London by the mysterious Professor Lovell and spends years devoted to the study of various languages, including Latin and Ancient Greek, preparing to one day enter the prestigious Royal Institute of Translation at the University of Oxford, known as Babel.

With its imposing tower that holds unimaginable secrets, Babel is the world’s center of knowledge. At the Institute, Robin discovers that learning to translate is also learning to wield magic. Through enchanted silver bars, it is possible to manifest the nuances and meanings lost in translation — and this art has given the British an unprecedented dominance. To Robin, Babel is a utopia dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. But knowledge answers to power...

Chinese-born and raised in Britain, the young man begins to question whether serving Babel means betraying his homeland, and finds himself torn between the Institution and a shadowy organization determined to halt colonialist expansion. When Britain sets its sights on war with China, driven by silver and opium, Robin will have to choose a side. After all, is it possible to chance institutions from within, or is violence inherent to revolution?

When I finished Babel, I recognized the taste in my mouth immediately — the same one I had after The Secret History: disappointment. To be clear, it’s a good book. It’s just not for me, even with all the elements that should have made it a perfect read. And that’s the thing about high expectations: the higher they are, the more specific the shape of the letdown.

I started reading it alongside a dear friend of mine, holding onto the quiet hope that this would be my book of the year. I ignored some early discomforts — ones my friend had already flagged during our buddy read, bless him. Curiosity kept me going. I picked up the pace, finished it, and ended up with a lot on my mind and a slightly bruised heart.

Kuang also frames Babel as a response to The Secret History, which, in hindsight, should have been my warning sign.

What I did not like

• setting and fantasy

The magic system — silver-working, translation, the manifestation of meaning lost between languages — was exactly what drew me to this book. I wanted it to be strange and rich and a little overwhelming. Instead, it’s explained very didactically, and most of its applications felt underwhelming: the silver is used to make trains run better, clocks tick faster, boats sail smoother. Things that, in our world, work fine without magic. It’s a compelling allegory for how knowledge serves empire — but as fantasy, it left me wanting more. Babel reads much more like historical fiction with occasional magical elements than the other way around.

• narrator(s) and characters

There are effectively two narrators: one close and biased, living inside Robin’s perspective, and another more omniscient voice that appears in the (many, many) footnotes. The split didn’t work for me — the footnotes interrupted the flow in ways that felt more disruptive than illuminating, and most of what they contained could have been woven into the text itself.

As for the characters: they’re largely one-dimensional, shaped more by Robin’s perception of them than by their own interiority. Victoire, Ramy, Griffin — so much potential, so little room to breathe. Even Letty, who at least gets to be a little unhinged. Robin himself develops slowly for most of the book, and when his arc finally accelerates, the shift feels abrupt rather than earned.

• pacing and structure

Nearly 600 pages, and the first half moves at a crawl while the ending rushes past you. The opening books lack a clear driving conflict, and by the time the stakes arrive, the resolution feels scrambled. It needed a tighter edit.

what i liked

• research and brilliance

Kuang is undeniably brilliant — academically, intellectually, in the sheer scope of what she attempts here. The research is meticulous: 19th-century political conflicts, linguistics, etymology, translation theory. It shows on every page, and I mean that as a compliment.

• theme and plot

The construction of Babel as an institution — its relationship to British imperialism, its internal contradictions — is genuinely compelling. So is the Hermes Society, operating in the shadows of the very system it resists. The bones of this story are excellent.

• linguistics and discourse

Unlike some readers, I actually loved the classroom chapters. The conversations about translation, etymology, and the politics of language were some of my favorite parts of the book. The broader arguments about colonialism, imperialism, and revolution are handled with real weight and intelligence.

dialogue: the secret history of babel

Both Babel and The Secret History live in academic settings, circle around philosophy and class, and ask uncomfortable moral questions. Tartt’s book is narrated by a poor boy from California who slips into an elite Vermont university and into a very strange group of students. Murders happen. Guilt accumulates.

But Babel is more ambitious in scope — it layers race, gender, colonialism and imperialism onto those same questions, with magic as the hinge. I respect that enormously.

On Storygraph, I gave Babel 3/5 and The Secret History 3.5/5. I prefer Kuang’s themes and what she’s trying to say. I just enjoyed Tartt’s execution more.

Who I recommend it to

• fans of The Secret History and dark academia in general

• readers more driven by theme and plot than by character

• historical fiction lovers

Further reading

• “Babel by R.F. Kuang: A successful thematic response to ‘The Secret History’” by Megan Peterson on Subjectify Media

• the critique by reader Jen Varon on TikTok

I know this isn’t a popular opinion. But we all have different tastes — and honestly, it’s still a very good book. it just wasn’t for me.

The good news: this read made me want to go back to writing reviews the way I used to, during my high school and uni days. Funny how disappointment can be generative like that. So here we are.

Have you read Babel? Do you want to? Tell me in the comments or reply to this email — but please be kind. We’re all just people with feelings about books.

Yours in odd pages,

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