The first hour of I Was a Teenage Exocolonist is dictionary definition coziness, by and large. There are vague hints of outside or future threats to the space colony on the planet Vertumna, but within the walls of the colony my 10-year-old protagonist is safe in a world of cotton candy trees, gentle guidance from adults, simple school lessons, and low-stakes interactions with peers. I chose to fill my days with sports, digging in the fields to help the colony, and occasionally studying engineering. And then, one of my friends died – suddenly, seemingly unpreventably. I was crushed. They had been a favorite character of mine so short a time in. And from there, the pastel loveliness of the colony dimmed a bit, and the world of Vertumna became a bit more grounded, a bit more human. I Was a Teenage Exocolonist deftly balances the dichotomy of its soft aesthetics and loveliest moments with stories of grief, conflict, confusion. It is, after all, a tale of growing up. The protagonist is