The Knotwright's Daughter

The prose is beautiful — you can practically taste the tar and hear the bell — but I left feeling a bit unsatisfied. The steam twister and brass goose are clever touches, yet they sometimes distract from the central conflict instead of deepening it. The moment when the wounded coaster drifts toward the rocks should be the emotional fulcrum, but it’s handled a touch too theatrically; the ‘night that will decide their future’ line reads like a promise that isn’t fully paid off. Characters like Josiah Booth and Lottie Marsh are sketched well, but I wanted more interaction that revealed their backstories or stakes. Worth reading for the atmosphere, but structurally it could use tightening.

Delightful! I can’t get the metal goose out of my head — that squawked image is gold 😂. The story balances craft and charm in a way that feels effortless. Favorite moment: Peregrine’s contraption hiccuping as it rolls and the goose deciding a reel would be a good nest — made me laugh aloud. But there’s real grit too: Nell’s splicing under pressure and the whole town’s scramble to save the coaster at night felt tense and urgent. The writing smells of tar and frying fish in the best possible way. Brilliant little historical slice with heart and humor.

I wanted to adore this — the setting and imagery are excellent — but the story stumbles in a few predictable ways. The wounded coaster drifting toward the rocks supplies obvious stakes, and the ‘night that will decide their future’ is telegraphed so heavily it loses some urgency. Peregrine and his Twister verge on caricature (the brass goose is cute, but also a little on-the-nose), and while Nell is vividly drawn in the workshop, other characters hover at the edges without much depth. Pacing is another issue: the opening luxuriates in detail, then the action compresses and several potentially interesting threads (innovation vs. tradition, family strain with Josiah Booth) don’t get enough room to breathe. Still, when the town rallies — the hands splicing, the steam coughing — the scene has power. It just needed a bit more daring to transcend familiar beats.

Short and lovely. The harbor is a character in itself here — creaky planks, tar-dark workshop, the smell of frying fish. Nell’s hands on the cord is one of those small, exact moments that tells you everything about her. The brass goose made me smile (so delightfully odd), and the scene where the town rallies to keep the coaster from the rocks felt genuinely communal. Beautiful atmosphere, precise craft detail, and a heroine you root for.

A tight, sensory piece that gets the technical details right without ever becoming dry. The author clearly knows the language of rope and splice — that specificity anchors the whole story. The juxtaposition of industrial oddities (Peregrine’s Twister and the brass goose) with everyday wharflife (frying fish, barley bread) creates a believable microcosm where innovation and tradition jostle. I particularly appreciated the rhythm: the bell above the quay, Nell’s quick fingers, Josiah’s measured presence — they set up a steady rising tension when the wounded coaster appears. The prose is economical but evocative; the steam twister coughing and the goose’s squawk are almost musical notes in the soundscape. My only small gripe is that a few secondary characters feel hinted at rather than fully fleshed out, but at novella length that’s understandable. Overall, smart, immersive, and satisfying.

I loved the way the book opens — that line about dawn unlatched the harbor stuck with me for days. Nell is a wonderfully tactile protagonist; the scene where she runs her palm along a coil and ‘tastes in calluses the same weather her eyes read in the sky’ is poetry disguised as craftsmanship. The town feels lived-in: Lottie heating pitch, the cook waving a spatula like a flag, even the small detail of a herring cake with caraway. Peregrine Pemberton and his brass goose add a lovely eccentricity, and the threat of the wounded coaster drifting toward the rocks gives real, knotted tension. The community rallying together — hands splicing, heaving, teaching — made me cheer. Atmospheric, warm, and quietly heroic. If you like historicals with grit and heart, this one is a treat.