During the last couple of years, when the bookshop was open, many of you who visited Fran and me on Fridays know I brought baked goods for you all to try. Whereupon I learn simultaneously that: A) I love baking. B) The practice gave me the confidence to try new and unfamiliar recipes. C) I am actually pretty decent at it. Due to this love, which finds me handing off treats to the neighbors and my husband’s coworkers regularly, I also enjoy watching baking shows.

Unsurprisingly, The Great British Bake Off is one of my faves.

Not only can you pick up pointers from the bakers themselves, but if you pay attention, you are exposed to all kinds of savory & sweet treats you (or, in this case, I) have never seen. Fans of the show know Prue Leith, one of the competition’s judges, has a compliment she whips out every now and again — “This (insert pastry name here) is worth the calories.” 

Or, inversely, “It wasn’t worth the calories.”

Considering the number of pastries, pies, breads, ice cream, and baked bits of goodness she and Paul Hollywood enjoy on the show — this is serious kudos or criticism indeed. 

Now, what does this have to do with the price of shortbread in Scotland? 

Since SMB closed its doors, gradually over the years, I’ve needed reading glasses more and more often. In point of fact, unless the writing on my phone is the size of a chipmunk’s footprint, I can’t read it. This makes reading the fine print on food labels, forms, and footnotes all but impossible…Unless I’m standing four feet away, which presents a whole new set of challenges. 

As I can no longer read books without my readers, eye strain has become a very irritating part of my life. Often keeping me from enjoying books as much as I used to. (Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to the optometrist soon. However, that’s not the point right now.) 

So when I tell you a book is totally worth the eye strain — you best believe I’m telling the truth. 

And Tress of the Emerald Sea is one of these books.

In the postscript of Tress of the Emerald Sea, Sanderson likens his story to a modern fairytale meant for grownups. However, a more apt one comes a few paragraphs later when he talks about watching The Princess Bride during lockdown with his family. When his wife wondered: “What would that story have been like if Buttercup had gone searching for Westley, instead of immediately giving him up for dead?”

This question planted the idea of Tress of the Emerald Sea in Sanderson’s brain and is a rather apt description that, whilst giving one an idea of what Tress of the Emerald Sea is about, doesn’t spoil the pleasure of found within the pages.

Of course, Tress of the Emerald Sea is far more complex and compelling than its origin question. (We’d expect nothing less.) It’s witty, laugh-out-loud funny, full of edge-of-your-seat suspense, with thought-provoking throwaway lines and a mystery concealed at its heart. 

Unlike my lovely husband, I’ve not devoured everything Sanderson’s written. Sure, I’ve read the Reckoners series (Steelheart, Firefight & Calamity) and Legion: The Many Lives of Stephen Leeds. And while Tress and the Emerald Sea is unlike any of the above books, it is set within the same multiverse. Meaning you meet one or three characters who obviously have a far deeper backstory. But so long as you know this before the first page, you’re fine. (Plus, Sanderson does a great job of weaving in enough information that someone picking up this book cold won’t get lost.)

*Squinting my eyes in the direction of New Mexico, where Fran is, at present, residing.*

Seriously, if you need something to lose yourself in, if only for a little while, Tress of the Emerald Sea is the book you’ve been looking for.