One paragraph into P. Djèlí Clark’s “A Master of Djinn,” the chronically truant self-preservation muscle in my brain jerked to life and hit pause. The novel is too well crafted, too interesting, too ...

Forget Barbara Eden. Forget Robin Williams. Peter Atkins’ uneven tale, “The Djinn,” is about a different sort of genie. This one grants wishes, but the outcome is rarely pleasant. In this Stages ...