FIRST LINES FRIDAY: Gideon the Ninth, by Tamsyn Muir

I’m starting a new feature that will post every Friday, and do feel free to do it along with me! It’s an evolution of First Chapter, First Paragraph that I did for a while, but I wanted to start having set posts on certain days to help with my blogging schedule! First Lines Friday will feature the first few lines of any book that interests me, new or old! This week I’m featuring Tamsyn Muir’s Gideon the Ninth, a book I’m currently reading and still super excited about. I first heard about it last year when it was announced — “lesbian necromancers in space” — and promptly preordered it. Ever since I got it, I’ve been waiting for the right moment to savor it, and I’ve taken my time with it this month. So far, it’s definitely living up to my expectations. Without any further adieu, here are the first lines from the book!

In the myriadic year of our Lord — the ten thousandth year of the King Undying, the kindly Prince of Death! — Gideon Nav packed her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and she escaped from the House of the Ninth.

She didn’t run. Gideon never ran unless she had to. In the absolute darkness before dawn she brushed her teeth without concern and splashed her face with water, and even went so far as to sweep the dust off the floor of her cell. She shook out her big black church robe and hung it from the hook. Having done this every day for over a decade, she no longer needed light to do it by. This late in the equinox no light would make it here for months, in any case; you could tell the season by how hard the heating vents were creaking. She dressed herself from head to toe in polymer and synthetic weave. She combed her hair. Then Gideon whistled through her teeth as she unlocked her security cuff, and arranged it and its stolen key considerately on her pillow, like a chocolate in a fancy hotel.

Have you read this? Is it on your to-read list?