by Gianni Washington
September 7, 2021









Gianni Washington is an Associate Fiction Editor with West Trade Review. She has a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from The University of Surrey, and her work has been published in The Fat City Review onlineLitroNY.com, and in the horror anthology Brief Grislys. She is also featured on episodes 8 (Dec. 2020) and 10 (Feb. 2021) of The Great American Folk Show reading from her short story, “Homunculus.”
No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull; Blackstone Publishing; 400 pages; $26.99


​  As the first in a sci-fi fantasy series entitled The Convergence Saga, Cadwell Turnbull’s No Gods, No Monsters takes on the hefty task of introducing every relevant character and plot point necessary to establish the central conflict of the series. The fantastic is revealed to have been waiting just on the other side of what is known, but is knowing the same as acceptance?

    When Laina learns that her estranged brother, Lincoln, has been shot to death by police, she initially mourns his murder as yet another in a long line of senseless, race-based shootings. However, in the middle of the night, an unfamiliar voice in her ear informs Laina that there is more to her brother’s death than meets the eye. After procuring footage of the shooting from this mysterious entity, Laina learns that her brother was actually a werewolf, killed while in his animal form. Upon releasing this information anonymously to the world at large, all Hell breaks loose as the knowledge of supernatural beings living among humans comes to light. This revelation sparks an event henceforth referred to in the story as “The Fracture”—the sudden, world-wide rupture between those who integrate this new knowledge and those who deny it.

    A clear line can be drawn between the heightened political turmoil the world has experienced over the last few years and the in-universe conflict between magical beings and humans. In particular, the Black Lives Matter movement, as well as the strife endured by LGBTQ+ communities are clear parallels to the story of the self-professed “monsters” in the book who seek equal treatment, protection, and the right to exist out in the open. While admirable in its attempt at allegory as well as its ambitious scope, the multitude of storylines do not truly overlap until towards the end, and the transitions between each section that precedes this merger can be jarring, especially when interjected by the occasional reminder that our omniscient narrator is actually the very first character we were introduced to.

    We begin with our nameless narrator, who we learn is returning to his hometown, the island of St. Thomas. He is looking for a new start as a teacher while continuing to grieve the death of his brother, Cory. We then meet Laina, who is also grieving the more recent death of her brother, Lincoln. Laina receives intel on her brother’s death, which proves the existence of monsters, and releases it to the public. Laina is in an open marriage to Ridley, the trans co-owner of a group-owned bookshop. Rebecca, a member of Lincoln’s pack, comes to Laina to discuss next steps now that the existence of “monsters" has been made known; the two of them become involved. Harry is a divorced academic who gets caught up in an online forum, finding clues that eventually lead him to a secret organization, the Order of the Zsousvox, who feed his and eleven other newcomer’s left hands to a boy called Dragon—who does indeed breathe fire and appear scaly—in an act of ritual sacrifice. Dragon’s keeper is an incorporeal, dangerous entity called Smoke. However, Dragon is secretly freed from his prison by other magical beings who seek his help in their plan to protect as many of their kind as possible from an impending war. Dragon’s rescuers are Melku, a non-binary tech-mage, Sondra, who can sniff out and distinguish different magics in addition to transforming into an African wild dog, and Sondra’s adopted sister Sonya, a being who can remove her own skin to become invisible and who subsists on the blood of others. 

    It’s a lot of information to take in and keep track of. 

    What makes this more difficult is how often the story stops in its tracks to give readers extensive background information on each character. There is not a consistent flow of action until the point when the storylines well and truly converge during an intense, pro-monster march from Boston Commons to Boston, Massachusetts’ City Hall. 

    The most intriguing section of the novel is when we are shown the development and use of the omniscient narrator’s abilities, which involve time-travel and the existence of the multiverse. This character’s ability to study situations from every angle of possibility allows him to consider the many facets of inevitability, especially when it comes to the mistakes human beings make, and results in perhaps the most poignant storyline of the book. It is likely that the other characters mentioned above will embark on similar journeys of self-discovery over the course of the series, but in this first volume it is the narrator who experiences the most in the way of mental and emotional growth. The narrator’s particular abilities also allow for the most organic recounting of background information in the story. Since revisiting the past is essential to who this character is, doing so as a means of introducing what we need to know about him is especially fitting. 

    The prose itself is very readable—despite the length of the novel, it is very easy to find yourself several chapters ahead of where you began in no time at all. With what is hopefully the bulk of the foundation laid in this first volume, and the fluidity of the climactic third act in mind, readers can likely look forward to a gripping, fast-paced epic in what remains of the series, as well as a magic mirror in which ways to engage more effectively with our own world are reflected. 




©2021 West Trade Review
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​Of Monsters and Men: Cadwell Turnbull’s No Gods, No Monsters
FICTION REVIEW
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