#thefatedsky

[marziesreads]

I got a lovely postcard from Lady Astronaut Nicole Wargin. Timely, since I wish I was on the Moon Base, too. #ladyastronaut #therelentlessmoon #thefatedsky #thecalculatingstars #maryrobinettekowal #bookstagram #readersofinstagram #audiobookstagram 
https://www.instagram.com/p/CDURU-qga-0/?igshid=1d6pndwgoca8f

[marziesreads]

The third novel in the #LadyAstronaut series, #TheRelentlessMoon, releases on Tuesday, July 14. Told from the POV of Astronaut Pilot Nicole Wargin, it follows events mentioned in #TheFatedSky that take place on the Moon base and back on earth, as the tension between the Earth First “remainers” and those seeking safe settlement elsewhere in our solar system reaches a tipping point. I have a fierce love for this series! #NicoleWargin #MyrtleJohnson #HelenCarmouche #LadyAstronauts #arcreads #bookstagram #readersofinstagram #torbooks #ladyastronautclub https://www.instagram.com/p/CCgYI-6gs5o/?igshid=1snvwrh8u4av8

[lilnightmusic]

Yes, I talk about this series often. That’s because @maryrobinettekowal is one of the best SFF writers out there, and The Calculating Stars and The Fated Sky exemplify that. Dr. and Dr. York have such an incredible relationship. It’s real and raw and there is so much love between them. Plus if you don’t have gigglefits from the creative rocket metaphors, nothing will make you laugh. ⚜️ But these books are more than that. It’s a journey of growth, of faith, of learning more about yourself and others. This is a masterclass on character, on handling diversity in an honest and respectful manner, on maximizing the emotional impact of plots and subplots. ⚜️ I’m a better writer for these books. I’m a better person, too. ⚜️ #torbooks #maryrobinettekowal #thecalculatingstars #thefatedsky #besamecosmetics #agentcarter #ladyastronautclub #bookstagram #bibliophile #bookish #beautycommunity #lipstick #discoverunder10k #literatureandlipstick https://www.instagram.com/p/BnwELIwF2fz/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=16x3vo5fxb1wm

[etoiline]

@maryrobinettekowal reads to us at @leftbankbooks from #TheFatedSky . We all need more languages to swear in. (at Left Bank Books) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnAJxFWAO5y/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1t8kga86z35vy

[lilnightmusic]

Two highly anticipated sequels and only one brain. ⚜️ The upside: I’m almost done with Fierce Like A Firestorm. The prose is so beautiful. And I love this brutal and beautiful women. ⚜️ The upside, again: I almost exclusively consume @maryrobinettekowal books via audiobook. She narrates them herself and it’s thrilling to hear exactly how that author meant for it to be. I’ve got driving and laundry folding to do today, so I’ll be back in Lady Astronaut land, soon. ⚜️ Can you read more than one book at a time? ⚜️ #ladyastronaut #thefatedsky #fiercelikeafirestorm #lanapopovic #maryrobinettekowal #chanelbeauty #literatureandlipstick #bookstagram #bibliophile #amreading #igreads #lovetoread #instareads #fortheloveofbooks #becauseofreading #booksofinstagram #readersofinstagram #bookoftheday #bookstagramfeature #bookfeaturepage #lipstick #igbeauty #photooftheday #makeupjunkie #lipsticklove #beautycommunity #epicreads #torbooks #discoverunder10k #booknerdigans

[tottman]

Happy to see the 2nd volume of The Lady Astronaut series show up at my door! #TheFatedSky by @maryrobinettekowal out today! . #bookaddict #bookstagram #booktreasure #booksandcats #catsandbooks #catswithbooks #catstagram #catsofinstagram #instakitty #amreading #bookish #scifi #fantasy (at Madison, Wisconsin) https://www.instagram.com/p/BmwlW6SF4DI/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1b8shv3pg00sg

[marziesreads]

#TheCalculatingStars by @maryrobinettekowal releases in July, and #TheFatedSky in August. Both are prequels to the sad and beautiful #TheLadyAstronautOfMars. I guess you could say I’m a bit of a fan! 😉 #Tor #womeninscience #ladyastronautclub

[its-andromeda-black]

The Fated Sky || Self

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars but in ourselves" 

Long ago, a man looked up to the sky and beheld the stars, glittering against a velvety black sky. Like diamonds on display, like candles in the windows of the most extravagant manor. When he looked up, he did not turn his heart to beauty or to truth, though surely he thought of those, too. No. What he saw instead was power, nobility, purity. What better to symbolize his proud family, if not the stars? What better to symbolize him and his than these bright burning things whose influence lasted long after their death? It was a tradition that stuck, touching the vast majority of the man's successors. 

Cygnus and Druella were nothing if they were not traditional. And so their first daughter was named Bellatrix, and the second Andromeda. Two stars for two girls with dark hair and bright eyes. The female warrior and the chained princess. When their third daughter came, her name was as different and as beautiful as she was. She was fair where her sisters were dark, and beautiful from the moment she was born. It was only fitting, really, that they give her a different name. 

Andromeda was eight years old when myths and legends caught her fancy. Her parents smiled on the impulse, seeing in the child's girlish wonder a hunger for family history, a natural impulse to align herself with the rest of them. They showered her with stories and books and left her on blankets beneath shade trees or curled in armchairs without disturbance. With the self-centered nature of childhood, Andromeda of course began with herself. 

Andromeda. A constellation and a galaxy named for a chained princess. She couldn't help but imagine the girl's terror, condemned by her mother's foolish words and chained to a rock as food for the sea monster, Cetus. But she did see the obedience. She saw that perfectly clearly. And, as it was her star, after all, she figured she might as well abide by it. Bellatrix, after all, was the female warrior in every way. Perhaps not the sword-and-shield kind (not yet, anyway), but it was there as sure as day. She supposed it was inevitable. She was Andromeda as much as the stars were, as much as that long-ago princess was. Who was she to fight the fate spelled out for her? 

And yet....and yet.

And yet, she could not help but fight, if just a little. Because the word "mudblood" tasted so badly on her tongue, because she flinched each time her parents raised voice or hand to a House Elf, because she couldn't see what the fuss was about if someone just so happened to be born a Squib. Though she spouted her parents ideals like lesson-book answers, they did not take hold. And she said always only "Muggleborn", though no one truly seemed to notice. 

Her rebellions were always small ones, Andromeda's. Her fits of disobedience were rarely more than a sulk or a muttered word. But they flared more brightly inside of her than she ever dared let show. Still, she assumed there must be something different about magical people born to Muggle families. If her family believed something so strongly for such a very long time, certainly it needed a basis in fact? Perhaps they simply weren't as good at magic, weren't as adept. Perhaps they could live in their world for a time, but never truly belonged. 

Oh, she was chained as certainly as Bellatrix was a fighter. She just refused to see it.

But the links began to come loose, one by one.

First came the boy in the shop, the first Muggle-born she'd ever truly encountered. And he'd seemed normal enough, hadn't he? And then came Hogwarts, and though her classmates snickered at  the Muggle born students, Andromeda was different. It didn't take long to notice that they were just as skilled (if not more so), just as good at the new spells. If it weren't for the knowledge of parentage, the giveaway stumbles in the use of a Muggle term or reference of a Muggle device, the young girl suspected there would be no differences noticed at all. 

Despite a certain residual arrogance that came with years of being told you're nothing short of royalty, Andromeda became known as the most approachable of the Black sisters. She spoke to Muggle-born students as kindly as she spoke to anyone. And if she was distant, it was a polite distance. 

Andromeda had finally noticed the chains. But the solid links did not tie her to a rock in the sea, but to her family. To her sisters. They were forged by her own loyalty, her memories, the things she'd been taught beside Bella and Cissa. She'd tangled herself in them so willingly, and the only way to break them would be to sever herself from the most important people she knew. Unwilling to break those chains, she could only watch as the serpent crept around her, tightening his coils until she could feel the coolness of its scales. Ladylike and loyal, she'd have to hold her protests of injustice, her feeling that something wasn't right, tightly inside of herself.

If she didn't think of them, she'd never have to act on them. 

It would take a Perseus on a winged horse to break the chains that bound her. But Andromeda simply never thought of the possibility. What was the use, after all, in concerning herself with dreams so wonderful, so impossible, and so painful?