Borderline Introduces a Flawed, Frustrating, Unforgettable Urban Fantasy Heroine
By the time you flip the last page of Mishell Baker’s debut fantasy Borderline, you will believe in faeries with enough vehemence to power an army of Tinkerbells. This I guarantee, and so much more. Baker has crafted a swift, delightful, and complex beginning to your next favorite urban fantasy series, very nearly redefining the genre along the way.
A tremendous amount of that appeal is derived from Millicent Roper, the brash, troubled protagonist on whom the story hangs. A suicide attempt cost Millie both her legs, no to mention a burgeoning career as a filmmaker. Since then, she’s checked herself into a psychiatric center, struggling to acclimate to her new physical reality and manage her ongoing condition: borderline personality disorder.
Borderline
Paperback $15.99
Borderline
Paperback $15.99
That title isn’t just a reference to the burden of Millie’s mental illness, as we soon discover when “magic” waltzes through her door wearing a beige Ann Taylor suit and sensible flats. Unbeknownst to her, Millie’s been identified by the top-secret Arcadia Project, and Caryl, who’s enigmatically reserved and just a little too mature, has come to be recruit her. To do what? Turns out magic is quite real, and so are the fey. Arcadia monitors traffic through portals between the fey and human worlds. “Monitor” is the operative word, as “regulate” might be overstating things, given the relative ragtag feel of Arcadia’s agents and the mess Millie’s about to get herself into.
Like Millie, the other Arcadia agents are facing troubled pasts and ongoing struggles. Almost immediately upon her arrival at one of the projects Residences (i.e., disguised portals to a fey dimension), she’s partnered with Teo, young, defensive, and an excellent cook. Their relationship is like oil and water, slightly antagonistic, prone to misunderstandings and hurt feelings, and slightly flirtatious. Granted, Millie’s flirtatious with just about everyone, one of the manifestations of her illness that very easily could make her a caricature in the wrong hands, but is instead handled with intense sympathy and credible delicacy.
That Millie’s voice is so original and relatable, despite her unique circumstances, grounds the elements of fantasy that follow. Well, that and the fact that the story is resolutely set in modern day Los Angeles, which makes anything seem well within the realm of possibility. There’s plenty of breezy entertainment on offer as Millie navigates her new comrades among this band of misfits, as well as the realization that magic has been all around her.
The pace, which begins at a high trot, picks up speed when we get into the meat of Arcadia’s present ensnarement: a high-ranking fey (undercover on Earth as a dreamy actor) has overstayed his visitation period in the human world and disappeared. He also just happens to be the Echo—think faerie-human soulmate/muse—of a legendary director, himself a top donor to the Arcadia Project.
It’s a sloppy, complicated mess, befitting Millie’s perception of herself—and of her team, which rounds out with Gloria, a little person with a Southern belle attitude whose history includes tours of the legal system, and Tjuan, the surly, street-wise straight man.
At times, it takes some mental calculations to keep track of the mechanics of inter-world travel, but you won’t mind, because the ride is such an unabashed pleasure cruise, filled to the brim with snappy dialogue, smart character choices, behind-the-scenes Hollywood shenanigans, and delightful fish-out-of-water moments (think glamoured faerie bars).
But it really all comes back to Millie, whose alternating self-doubt and instinctual matter-of-factness lend her such a genuine voice. Perhaps the greatest achievement of Borderline is not the fast-paced fantasy, the thrilling mystery, or the writing’s quick wit, but its imperfect heroine, through whom the story tackles mental and physical illness with respect and dignity.
Preorder Borderline, available March 1.
That title isn’t just a reference to the burden of Millie’s mental illness, as we soon discover when “magic” waltzes through her door wearing a beige Ann Taylor suit and sensible flats. Unbeknownst to her, Millie’s been identified by the top-secret Arcadia Project, and Caryl, who’s enigmatically reserved and just a little too mature, has come to be recruit her. To do what? Turns out magic is quite real, and so are the fey. Arcadia monitors traffic through portals between the fey and human worlds. “Monitor” is the operative word, as “regulate” might be overstating things, given the relative ragtag feel of Arcadia’s agents and the mess Millie’s about to get herself into.
Like Millie, the other Arcadia agents are facing troubled pasts and ongoing struggles. Almost immediately upon her arrival at one of the projects Residences (i.e., disguised portals to a fey dimension), she’s partnered with Teo, young, defensive, and an excellent cook. Their relationship is like oil and water, slightly antagonistic, prone to misunderstandings and hurt feelings, and slightly flirtatious. Granted, Millie’s flirtatious with just about everyone, one of the manifestations of her illness that very easily could make her a caricature in the wrong hands, but is instead handled with intense sympathy and credible delicacy.
That Millie’s voice is so original and relatable, despite her unique circumstances, grounds the elements of fantasy that follow. Well, that and the fact that the story is resolutely set in modern day Los Angeles, which makes anything seem well within the realm of possibility. There’s plenty of breezy entertainment on offer as Millie navigates her new comrades among this band of misfits, as well as the realization that magic has been all around her.
The pace, which begins at a high trot, picks up speed when we get into the meat of Arcadia’s present ensnarement: a high-ranking fey (undercover on Earth as a dreamy actor) has overstayed his visitation period in the human world and disappeared. He also just happens to be the Echo—think faerie-human soulmate/muse—of a legendary director, himself a top donor to the Arcadia Project.
It’s a sloppy, complicated mess, befitting Millie’s perception of herself—and of her team, which rounds out with Gloria, a little person with a Southern belle attitude whose history includes tours of the legal system, and Tjuan, the surly, street-wise straight man.
At times, it takes some mental calculations to keep track of the mechanics of inter-world travel, but you won’t mind, because the ride is such an unabashed pleasure cruise, filled to the brim with snappy dialogue, smart character choices, behind-the-scenes Hollywood shenanigans, and delightful fish-out-of-water moments (think glamoured faerie bars).
But it really all comes back to Millie, whose alternating self-doubt and instinctual matter-of-factness lend her such a genuine voice. Perhaps the greatest achievement of Borderline is not the fast-paced fantasy, the thrilling mystery, or the writing’s quick wit, but its imperfect heroine, through whom the story tackles mental and physical illness with respect and dignity.
Preorder Borderline, available March 1.