Author: Andrew Kelly Stewart
Released: March 9, 2021
Warnings: Kidnapping, abuse, starvation
I received a copy of We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep in exchange for a fair and honest review.
Andrew Kelly Stewart’s debut novella, We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep has got to be one of the most unique reads I’ve ever had the luxury of experiencing, and I would like to think that this is saying something.
Remy is a Chorister, and while they remember a life before that, they don’t remember much. Now it is their job to sing the Hours and keep the mission going. To keep souls and beings soothed. It’s a sacred job, or so Remy has been told.
Remy and their cohorts all live onboard the Leviathin, one of the last nuclear subs – with a deadly mission. However, Remy has a secret of their, or rather, her own. She’s a girl hidden in a group of boys, a secret which belies her sweet singing voice. And it’s that difference that results with her getting tasked with an all-new mission.
“Our collective hum joins the unending chorus of loud pinging, knocking, clanging.”
I can tell you with complete and total honesty that I have never read a novella quite like We Shall Sing a Song Into the Deep. It was richly detailed, wonderfully written, and oh so compelling. It also did an excellent job of getting that brain of mine working, coming up with theories and much more.
It took me a little bit of time to get into Remy’s story, but once I did, boy was I invested in what was happening! It was fascinating, trying to figure out how the world got to this point, what was actually happening, and who was trying to get what done.
The best part? Or perhaps the worst, depending on how you want to look at it. There’s this lingering sense of paranoia and claustrophobia. It gets worse with time, as it feels like the submarine which has been Remy’s home begins to close in on her. It’s terrifying. And brilliant.
This is one of those novellas that makes me excited to see what else an author will create in time. I can’t wait to see what Andrew Kelly Stewart writes next, and I know I’ll be reading it, whatever it is.