We’ve reached the finals of the fourth annual Self-Published Science Fiction Competition (SPSFC4), and the three finalists chosen on my team’s side of the bracket have been joined by three more from the other side. Over the course of the summer, we’ll be reading and scoring these three books that came with such glowing recommendations from Peripheral Prospectors and Ground Control to Major Tom. My final read of the final stage was perhaps my most anticipated—Al Hess had been a previous SPSFC semifinalist who had drawn some intriguing reviews, and with Yours Celestially breaking through to the last round, I was excited to finally give it a try. 

Yours Celestially takes place in a world where the dead can be returned to bodies of their choosing—for a price. It’s primarily told from two perspectives, one of a former addict scuffling through his second life without much ambition, the other of the angelic AI who helps prepare souls for their return to the physical world. But when the AI falls for one of the souls under its care, the resurrected lead feels a physical echo of its secret love, spurring him to find a way to make contact and help his former AI advisor resolve its intense infatuation. 

While the writing style is smooth and professional throughout—no surprise given Hess advancing deep in two different iterations of SPSFC—I found it a bit difficult to emotionally attach in the early going. The AI infatuation is already present in the book’s opening chapters, so there isn’t much chance to build up to how an AI might find itself infatuated with a particular human. Meanwhile, the other lead’s strategy to make contact with the AI feels half-baked, and his own romance builds remarkably quickly after an offputting initial meeting. As a reader who tends to enjoy slower builds, the rush to get the pieces into place posed an obstacle to immersion in the early stages. 

But the path smooths considerably as the story progresses. The romantic subplots don’t slow down much, but the story adds additional dimensions that carry much of the back half. For the human lead, that comes with delving into the past addiction that had ruined his marriage and led to his death, leaving his resurrected self with fears of relapse, guilt over an undeserved second chance, and a defense mechanism that holds everyone around him at an emotional distance. For the AI, the new dimension comes in the knowledge that one of the souls in his keeping is cruel and abusive and likely to harm others upon his ultimate resurrection unless the AI can find a way to stop him. And hovering over the entire affair is a pending lawsuit by a group opposing the way the resurrection technology facilitates gender transition. The suit has put resurrections on pause for the moment, but when it ends, changes will come quickly, one way or the other. 

The author himself describes Yours Celestially as queer hopepunk, and while the tone is more Becky Chambers than an atmosphere of foreboding, its major project reminds me in some ways of John Wiswell’s “That Story Isn’t the Story,” in which the lead must recover from speculative trauma in the most mundane of ways: with friendship and therapy. Yours Celestially features addiction and abuse, with the characters working through it by learning to lean on their friends and family. Nearly every significant character is recovering from something, and the only way forward is together. And when the inevitable external conflicts come, once again the only way forward is together. 

Yours Celestially keeps the tone lighter than one might expect given the themes under consideration—perhaps in keeping with its hopeful aspirations—and it generally executes the balance well. The trauma isn’t given short shrift, but there’s a persistent feeling that it can be overcome. And after an opening that felt somewhat rushed, it all comes together in a heartwarming ending that elevates what had come before. 

Ultimately, Yours Celestially is a short, easy, and optimistic read. It doesn’t shrink back from trauma, but it always highlights a way forward, with a focus on friendship and solidarity. The romantic subplots are a bit too fast-paced for my liking, but the overall story is heartwarming nonetheless. If cozy fiction is meant to indicate small-scale stories with a persistently optimistic bent–rather than a total absence of conflict–then call this one cozy. It’s easy to see why this made the finals, and after completing all six finalists, it’s one of a clear top two in my book. 

Recommended if you like: queer hopepunk.

Can I use it for Bingo? It’s hard mode for Self-Published and Down with the System and also fits Hidden Gem, Epistolary, Cozy SFF, and LGBTQIA Protagonist

Overall rating: 15 of Tar Vol’s 20. Four stars on Goodreads.

SPSFC score: 7.5/10 for my personal score. The official team score will be decided in concert with my teammates.