Blurb:

From #1 New York Times bestselling author Brandon Sanderson―creator of The Stormlight Archive, the Mistborn Saga, and countless bestselling works of science fiction and fantasy―comes this gripping story set in the Cosmere universe told by Hoid, where two people from incredibly different cultures must work together to save their worlds from certain disaster.

Yumi has spent her entire life in strict obedience, granting her the power to summon the spirits that bestow vital aid upon her society―but she longs for even a single day as a normal person. Painter patrols the dark streets dreaming of being a hero―a goal that has led to nothing but heartache and isolation, leaving him always on the outside looking in. In their own ways, both of them face the world alone.

Suddenly flung together, Yumi and Painter must strive to right the wrongs in both their lives, reconciling their past and present while maintaining the precarious balance of each of their worlds. If they cannot unravel the mystery of what brought them together before it’s too late, they risk forever losing not only the bond growing between them, but the very worlds they’ve always struggled to protect.

Review:

I don’t know why I continue to underestimate Sanderson when it comes to these secret projects, because we all know he’s a dynamite storyteller…but I walked into this one with lower expectations than one of his great series. And maybe that did me some good because I was blown away by this intimate and adorable body swap tale about facing yourself truly, questioning what you hold valuable, and learning to stand up, sometimes again and again. With a really sweet romance that’s more forthright than most of Brandon’s novels I’ve read thus far, I was captivated with the beautiful imagery of both modern downtown Tokyo vibes and a dreamy ancient Korea.

The plot was set up fairly simple in nature, at least until it wasn’t. Yumi, a yoki-hijo who summons spirits by stacking stones, has a very disciplined life in service to her communities as she travels and helps those that are in need of the hijo. In another… universe? time? dimension? planet?... Nikaro, who Hoid mostly refers to as Painter, works as a nightmare painter hunting down the nightmares that haunt their edgy buzzing city of darkness and neon lights. Yumi excels at her tasks but is unhappy with her lot, while Painter is struggling with his job while suffering for some past mistakes. But when Painter wakes up in Yumi’s body, they need to learn to work together, in both of their lives, to right the dominos falling too quickly. With the stakes rising in both their personal lives and the worlds around them, they need to weave the threads that bind them together. I loved this twist on a freaky friday swap where the two stick together and coach each other instead of experiencing these “new shoes” on their own. Through the trials they face, with monstrous nightmares and devious charlatans, they learn more about themselves, each other, and who they want so desperately to be. The conclusion of this story was so interesting, but more so it was the journey that brought us there. At the end of the day it wasn’t so much about what they faced out there in the world but what they faced within and found in each other.

“Humans are incredibly malleable. Despite my breadth of experience, I've never stopped being surprised at how durable human beings can be. They can survive in almost any environment. They can recover from debilitating loss. They can be crushed physically, mentally, emotionally- and still ask you how your day is going.”

I also love that the book really addresses some questions important to this community itself. What makes art? Why is the humanness in it important? Why do we seek to experience each other through it? What does a human pour into work as a machine just consumes? You really can get a little heady about the whole thing as you dive into the parallels Sanderson brings into this book and it turns out to be pretty a fantastic way to address it.

And that’s because, instead of just extrapolating, he seeps his ideas deep into this amazing world. The imagery is stunning, paired with the beauty of the book itself. The dark shrouded city of Kilahito, fueled by brilliant neon Hion, lights of blue and magenta, that run the city is a perfect nod to Japan. Design's noodle shop is a central icon, serving up delicious dishes along with her perfect sass. Painter’s tiny apartment with his stacks of dirty ramen dishes and collections of things was all so visual and inviting. Juxtaposed was the brilliant countryside of Torio, warm and inviting, lush and natural. Her traditions and yoki-hijo practices were a testament to ancient rituals and spoke of the beauty of the past in its own right. I love how Sanderson pinned these two opposing lifestyles, which were sometimes uncomfortably met with misunderstanding and judgement that could ultimately form into a level of acceptance and appreciation. It was almost as if he was saying, there can be value in all of this simply because you value it. And that was really cool.

The magic system winked at the cosmere, and yet was seen through the eyes of their inhabitants, with art as its manipulator. Nightmares being captured through painting and the hijo being fascinated by the rock sculptures was a really cool way to navigate an environment. For the characters, pouring themselves into their work served those around them, helped their communities, and effected the plans of those standing against them. It was poetic and poignant.

“It’s said that everything you eat, even the air you breathe, becomes part of you. The axi that make up the matter you take in come to make up you instead. I, however, find that the moments we take into our souls as memories are far more important than what we eat. We need those moments as surely as the air, and they linger. Potent. Yes, a person is more than their experiences, stacked up like stones. But our best moments are the foundations we use to reach for the sky.”

Yumi and Painter were exceptional lead characters. The whole story revolves around, and hinges on, their development which was so expertly executed. As they grow individually their bond also grows, and I loved how this relationship burned slow and purposefully. From their contrasting day to day lives to their response to being totally out of their elements, I grew to absolutely adore these characters. And the side characters were all such fixtures, each feeling well rounded and important. Nikaro’s friend group he was outcasted by were all so fantastic, I want a whole spinoff for them! Seeing their side of the story through Yumi’s eyes as Nikaro processed their presence was a really nice treat. And Liyun, though infuriating, has my whole heart. Having Hoid and Design along for the ride was, as always, the best of treats. Especially when they interacted with each other. 

In a review I typically try to speak to the writing. But in this case, who gets to judge the master? I suppose me since that’s the seat I took in starting this review (idiot). The writing was, well, Sanderson. I love Hoid’s voice and it’s been nice to have him along on these side quests. I love both the easter eggs I recognize and those I assume I’ll one day catch up on. I loved his new brand of moodiness and the nods not only to eastern culture on page but also the style of storytelling I’ve come to love through anime and manga. Was it perfectly evocative in the way they tend to be? I think maybe even Brando has some progress to make (says the flea to the elephant) but it was absolutely there. That said I think that some people that aren’t into more eastern avenues will find it a bit on the muchness scale, because the drama, life lessons, musing and sitting in discomfort does hit pretty strong at times. Fear not, Sanderson is still Sanderson and his storytelling is still bar none.

“Art is about feelings and emotion. It's about letting them escape, so they can be shared. It's about capturing a truth about yourself. Like you're ripping a hole in your chest and exposing your soul.”

In the end it wasn’t a matter of structure, story elements, easter eggs, or imagery. It was a feeling. That’s something I truly love about eastern stories and something Sanderson managed to capture for our western sensibilities if you dared look. It was warmth, it was heartache, it was knowing and feeling a little known in the process. It was deep but with a surface, and you could dive to whatever depths you deemed fit. And that, my friends, is damn good storytelling.