Musings of a reading addict

Keywords: The Uncertainty Principle, Time Travel, Different Universes, Science-fiction, Geology in fiction

Genre: Science-Fiction

Length: short medium long

Country: USA

Review

Today, I want to talk about The Arasmith Certainty Principle, a novel that managed to surprise me in more ways than one.

At its core, this is a complex and layered science fiction story, one that is difficult to reduce to a single thread. The novel opens in first-person narration with Jennifer Hewitt, who meets her friend Jonathan for dinner. Jonathan is a geology specialist, and during his work in the Atasoka Formation in Wyoming, he discovers something that should not exist. A modern radio and a skeleton of apparently modern origin, both embedded in a late Pleistocene geological layer. This discovery immediately creates a scientific and logical conundrum and sets the story in motion. Time travel, geological impossibilities, and hints of something far stranger begin to take shape from the very first chapters.

As the story unfolds, we are introduced to Susan Arasmith, the character whose name gives the book its title. Through her, the novel engages directly with The Uncertainty Principle, the idea that one cannot simultaneously know both the exact position and momentum of a particle. What initially feels like two separate storylines, one grounded in geology and temporal anomalies, the other in physics and theoretical science, eventually converge. When they do, the result is a premise that feels both intellectually ambitious and genuinely original.

I thoroughly enjoyed

1. Concept

One of the strongest aspects of this novel is its premise. Without spoiling anything, the story explores a fascinating blend of science and belief, proposing the existence of a parallel reality -sort of?- that can be accessed through understanding, choice, and perception. This is not an easy concept to explain without giving too much away, but the following quote captures its essence better than any summary could:

“Nature wasn’t my lackey, obliged to do my bidding. Rather, nature provided structure, the framework for a house that my choice could paint and decorate. The more I understood of its structure, the better my own contributions to its ultimate design could be. The more I knew, the more I could choose. My own choice was part of the laws of nature.”

2. Short Chapters

Another element I thoroughly enjoyed was the fragmented structure of the novel. This may be an unpopular opinion, but in this sort of book, with multiple POVs, I am a strong admirer of short chapters and frequent shifts in perspective. This structure helps keep multiple story lines and points of view active in the reader’s mind without allowing important details to fade. The pacing benefits greatly from this approach.

3. The language

The language deserves special mention. I genuinely cannot remember the last time I had to consult a dictionary while reading a contemporary novel written in English. English is not my first language, yet I read extensively in it and rarely encounter unfamiliar vocabulary outside of technical or scientific contexts – what I’m hinting at is NOT my proficiency in English but rather the scarce use of the full English vocabulary which is such a beautiful one (my language has not even half the vocabulary English does). In this book, the words I looked up were not scientific terms. They were simply less commonly used words, employed with precision and confidence. I find it deeply satisfying when an author makes full use of the richness of the English language, and this was, for me, a real pleasure to read.

4. Individual voices

Characterization is another area where the book succeeds. The novel features a wide range of points of view, including a senator, a detective, scientists, and several central characters such as Jennifer, Jonathan, Susan, Cynthia, and Kar Tur. With the exception of Jennifer, whose chapters are written in first person for very good narrative reasons, the perspectives are in third person. While the language itself is relatively uniform across viewpoints, each character remains clearly identifiable. Their personalities, motivations, and emotional traits are distinct enough that, even without explicit cues, it is often easy to know whose perspective you are reading. I always appreciate books where characters feel like individuals rather than interchangeable voices.

Of course, no book is without aspects that could be refined, and these observations are offered from a personal reading perspective rather than as harsh criticism.

1. Not enough context

One area where I felt slightly disconnected was the overall sense of global impact. The events unfolding in the story carry enormous implications for humanity, and while we see the reactions of governments, scientists, and key players, I would have liked more insight into how these events affected everyday life. The consequences are described, but too little compared to the gravity of it all. I found myself wanting to feel the fear, confusion, and chaos at what one might call ground level, among ordinary people. This would have helped anchor the story more firmly in lived reality.

Related to this, the perceived level of threat sometimes felt uneven. As a reader, I often had the feeling that I sensed the danger more acutely than some of the characters appeared to. Given the global stakes involved, I expected broader international reactions and a stronger sense of collective urgency beyond the immediate circles we follow.

2. Unresolved emotional arcs

There are also a few narrative threads that remain somewhat open by the end of the novel. Jennifer’s emotional arc, in particular, stood out to me. Her difficulty with trust, vulnerability, and emotional openness is clearly established and deeply interesting, especially in relation to both friendships and romantic connections. While her growth is implied, I personally would have appreciated a moment of clearer emotional articulation.

Similarly, the ending leaves certain events and character outcomes quite understated. Without spoiling anything, there is a final interaction involving time travel that felt emotionally restrained given the magnitude of what had occurred. I found myself wishing for just a little more substance in that exchange.

Final thoughts

Despite these points, my overall experience with The Arasmith Certainty Principle was a very positive one. The pacing works, the story is intellectually engaging, the concept is original, and the use of language is exceptional. Readers looking for science fiction that explores new theoretical territory, blends hard science with philosophical inquiry, and is written with care and ambition will likely find a great deal to enjoy here. Russ Colson’s background as a professor of geology is clearly reflected in the scientific grounding of the novel, which adds credibility and depth to the narrative.

I would like to sincerely thank Russ Colson for trusting me with this review, for gifting me a copy of his book, and for his patience while I took the time I needed to read and reflect on it properly. It is deeply appreciated.

This will be my final review of 2025.

I wish all of you a wonderful New Year celebration and, as always, happy reading!