Sunday Shorts: Two From UPGRADED

In 2014, after the heart attack that he thankfully survived and which resulted in the installation of a pacemaker, Clarkesworld editor Neil Clarke put together Upgraded, an anthology of stories about cyborgs. Here are my thoughts on a couple of the stories contained therein.

cover art by Julie Dillon

“Oil of Angels” by Chen Quifan, translated by Ken Liu

This story starts innocuously enough: our unnamed first-person narrator makes her first visit to a highly recommended, difficult-to-get-an-appointment with, massage therapist named Dr. Qing. The doctor, who is blind, works wonders on the main character’s physical and emotional stress via aromatherapy and unusual massage oils. The therapy starts to peel back the layers of the main character’s trauma and troubled relationship with her mother, which she had buried via a device called a MAD (Memory Assistant Device), a common piece of tech everyone in the narrator’s generation (and the one previous) have installed early in life (meaning pretty much everyone in this world below a certain age is a cyborg, unfamiliar with what life would be like without the MAD). The story becomes a treatise on how technology that seems perfect in the moment of adoption often has hidden downsides, and also a moving example of how generational trauma sneaks insidiously into our interior lives. Liu’s translation of Chen’s story is full of beautiful language and sensory detail that put the reader directly in the massage parlor (soothing) but also directly into the narrator’s memories (decidedly not soothing).

“Honeycomb Girls” by Erin Cashier

The future of Cashier’s story is dystopic, with most men living in the squalor of broken-down cities, scraping to make ends meet, while a lucky few get to live in Towers with access to what few women seem to exist. The main character Geo, more cyborg than human, finds himself in a position to see what life in the Towers is like, but at a cost that becomes increasingly hard to pay. Geo clearly has fewer social skills than any of the people around him, reflected in the language of the story; it’s a close third person POV on Geo, combining the stilted syntax of someone who is awkward socially with in-world jargon the reader has to use context clues to understand (which put me in mind of Anthony Burgess’ novella A Clockwork Orange, although Cashier doesn’t make the reader work as hard as Burgess does to understand what’s being said). Richer people taking advantage of poorer people and men taking advantage of women while infrastructure and society collapse are standard issue dystopia, but Cashier brings moments of real human connection into the mix (between Geo and his closest friends among the junk sellers as well as between Geo and the woman he meets in the Tower) that are truly affecting.

I love short fiction in all its forms: from novellas to novelettes, short stories, flash fiction, and drabbles. Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it.

Book Review: A PRINCESS OF MARS: SHADOW OF THE ASSASSINS

TITLE: A Princess of Mars: Shadow of the Assassins

AUTHOR: Ann Tonsor Zeddies

314 pages, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc., ISBN 9781945462698 (paperback, hardcover, limited edition)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

The Edgar Rice Burroughs Universe (or ERBU) continues to expand with Ann Tonsor Zeddies’ A Princess of Mars: Shadow of the Assassins, the first new canonical novel to truly feature Dejah Thoris in the main role since she was introduced in Burroughs’ first Barsoom novel (also titled A Princess of Mars) in 1911 (when it was originally serialized in All-Story magazine as “Under the Moons of Mars”). Despite the title, A Princess of Mars focused more on John Carter, the amnesiac and long-lived Earthman who is mysteriously transported to Mars and finds himself caught up in the political and existential crises of a world not his own, than it did on the titular Princess. Carter does meet and fall in love with Dejah Thoris, princess of the human city-state of Helium, and her scenes introduce us to a woman adept at statecraft, quick to make decisions, handy with weaponry, and not easily wooed/swayed by the presence of a handsome stranger.

People who have never read Burroughs, who rely only on the television and movie interpretations of his work from the 1950s and ‘60s to inform their opinion of him, are surprised to discover just how progressive (for his time) Burroughs was in writing his female characters. Dejah Thoris, Jane Porter, Duare of Amtor, Dian of Pellucidar, and so many others are not the wilting damsels-in-distress of so much media of the time. They are all strong, intelligent, proud women capable of not only getting into danger but rescuing themselves from it (as discussed in “The Women of Edgar Rice Burroughs” panel at Pulpfest 2024, as discussed in my post earlier this week).

Ann Tonsor Zeddies takes what we know of Dejah Thoris’ personality and history from the Barsoom novels she featured prominently in and delivers a prequel novel that shows us how she grew into the woman John Carter falls in love with. Dejah starts off the novel straining against her father’s (Mors Kajak, jed of Lesser Helium) reluctance to treat her like an adult. While her brother gets to go off on scientific expeditions, Dejah is expected to stay in Helium and await the wooing of suitors from the city’s warrior class. The unexpected arrival of an embassy from another city-state and the bad timing of an attack by a tribe of Mars’ green men conspire to place Dejah in the position of representing her father, and her city, at a series of Olympics-like games in the previously unheard-of city of Zor. (The timing of this novel, which so heavily features sporting competition and the awarding of honors for same, coming out amid the 2024 Summer Olympics may or may not have been planned by Edgar Rice Burroughs Inc. If it wasn’t, it is certainly fortuitous.)

Shadow of the Assassins is somewhat an origin story for Dejah Thoris. We get to watch her grow from a girl who thinks she knows everything to a woman who recognizes that to be a good leader, one must surround oneself with trusted and smart advisors – and not just be in their company, but also listen to them. She bungles her initial interactions with the Jeddak of Zor, Jan Vajo, and his sister Phortara, ignoring the advice of the older friend of her mother’s sent as adviser in Dejah’s retinue. She also takes ownership of her mistakes and strives to make amends – although almost too late – and in the end makes a series of decisions that not only save herself and her friends but also her embattled father.

Zeddies also crafts exciting, engrossing chase and fight scenes full of tension that alternate wonderfully with the scenes of courtly intrigue. Both the action scenes and the intrigue scenes work together to deepen and further the mystery Dejah Thoris must solve: what is really going on in Zor and how will it affect Helium?

Since this is a prequel, we know that Helium will be okay, but the threat still feels palpable. Few of the familiar characters from Burroughs’ original Barsoom novels appear outside of Dejah’s parents and grandparents. But there are winks at some of the friends and threats that appear in the Burroughs books and there are new characters introduced who add to the interesting tapestry of the Barsoom books without contradicting anything we already know and who hopefully will continue to appear as the ERBU grows.

The book also includes a new John Carter of Mars novella, “John Carter of Mars: Swords of the Mind,” written by Geary Gravel (who also wrote the ERBU novel John Carter of Mars: Gods of the Forgotten, part of the company’s “Swords of Eternity” Super-Arc, which I reviewed HERE). The novella is a sequel of sorts to Gods of the Forgotten as well as to Burroughs’ novel Thuvia, Maid of Mars, but you do not have to have read either novel to enjoy this novella. John Carter discovers that his son Carthoris is missing and goes to investigate. An old threat is found to not only still be active but also stronger in power. Geary expertly weaves together and extrapolates from Burroughs’ concepts to expand the mythos with new dangers. And to introduce a new character! One of the things I’ve enjoyed about the new ERBU books is the introduction of the “next generation:” Suzanne Clayton (granddaughter of Tarzan), Victory Harben (daughter of Gretchen von Harben), Janson Gridley (son of Jason and Jana), and now Djon Dihn (son of Carthoris and Thuvia). Burroughs had no problem extending the family trees of his characters (having given us Korak, son of Tarzan, and Carthoris and his sister Tara, children of John Carter and Dejah Thoris), and I think he’d be happy to see the way that tradition is being carried on in the new spate of canonical ERBU books.

I hope this is just the first of several Dejah Thoris prequel novels from Ann Tonsor Zeddies, who also wrote the novella “Victory Harben: Stormwinds of Va-Nah.” I am excited to see where she’ll take Dejah and her new friends next, in the years between this book and A Princess of Mars.

I received an advance reading pdf of this book for free from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. A Princess of Mars: Shadow of the Assassins can be pre-ordered now (in paperback, hardcover, and limited-edition collector’s hardcover versions) at the Edgar Rice Burroughs Incorporated website.

Sunday Shorts: Two by Dane Kuttler

I love short fiction, and Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it. I’ve considered promising to review a short story every day, but that’s a lot of pressure. And while no one will fault me if I miss days, I’ll feel guilty, which will lead to not posting at all. So better to stick to a weekly post highlighting a couple/three stories, as I’ve done in the past.

TWO BY DANE KUTTLER

Dane Kuttler is a wonderful poet (https://www.danepoetry.com/about.html), who has also had two science fiction short stories published in the past year in the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, edited by Sheree Renee Thomas. The two stories are quite different in tone and topic but are equally engaging.

“The Interspatial Accessibility Compact’s Guidelines for Cross-Cultural Engagement” (Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Winter, 2024)

On a multi-species space station where sound carries very well and certain species have a harder time communicating, a florist helps an Earthman express his affection for a coworker is from a sound-sensitive species. This far-future, outer-space story is so sweet, so endearing, so romantic and so recognizable in the awkwardness on the part of all three of the main characters. It’s not easy expressing your affection for someone who essentially speaks a different language, with completely distinct cultural landmarks and social cues. It’s also not easy being the one trying to help two people who clearly care for each other but who aren’t navigating how to communicate with each other. I’ve been in both positions and felt all of the awkwardness. But also felt all of the happily-ever-after (or at least, the happy for now). In other hands, the drama of the situation might have been drawn out into a longer piece with more roadblocks for the protagonists, but Kuttler keeps the story to a tight, fast-moving but still emotionally investing seven pages.

“Off the Map” (Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Jan-Feb 2023)

Ava is in danger of losing her children to the system after a second “neglect” infraction that any rational person would consider unwarranted. Then she receives an offer to relocate to a new town in Florida under the auspices of Better Days, an organization that will give her full-time work, a home, a school that works with students’ learning disabilities and alternative learning styles, and access to therapy and guidance counselors. But is it all too good to be true, especially in a post-climate change, high scarcity of resources world? This story is an incisive and biting look at corporate involvement in social issues, and how the most vulnerable are mistreated and used to further other ends. I’ve read this one multiple times since it was published a year ago, and each time I reread it the injustice and abuse the characters experience (both the abuse they know of, and the stuff they are unaware of) hits hard.

Book Review: PERILOUS TIMES

TITLE: Perilous Times

AUTHOR: Thomas D. Lee

485 pages, Ballantine Books, ISBN 9780593499016 (hardcover; also e-book and audiobook)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

Perilous Times by Thomas D. Lee blends Arthurian tropes with a near-future, post-climate change dystopia which asks, among other ideas, how bad things need to become before King Arthur returns as prophesied. The “once and future king,” said to be destined to return in the time of England’s greatest peril, has yet to reappear – despite two world wars and multiple other conflicts that surely could have benefitted from Arthur’s strength and expertise. Along the way, the novel also investigates the nature of heroism, the ways in which doing the right thing sometimes leads to the wrong result, and how hard it is to alter our own ingrained beliefs and sense of self-worth.

Lee tweaks the “Arthur will return” trope by giving us a version of our world in which it is not Arthur but his core knights, ensorcelled by Merlin, who secretly return when England is in peril. Kay, Lancelot, Galehaut, and others find themselves occasionally revived long enough to do what needs doing to preserve the realm. This time, Kay and Lancelot, who have a not-pleasant history, find themselves on opposite sides of a battle between a group of environmentalists (and other revolutionaries) and the oil barons and oligarchs who control a collapsing political state and whose policies have resulted in a flooded, impoverished, crippled “United Kingdom.” Equally important to the narrative are Miriam, the idealistic but insecure environmentalist Kay rescues from death when he first awakens; Regan, an older friend of Miriam with secrets of her own; and Lancelot’s also-immortal government spymaster Marlowe (yes, that Marlowe).

Into the already near-apocalyptic world the characters inhabit (Lee’s descriptions of flooded towns, disease- and prejudice-plagued refugee camps, and massive oil rigs are viscerally palpable) comes magic that may save the world or may doom it. The magic is as much of a threat as the changed climate is, depending on who ends up wielding it. At the heart of many Arthurian retellings is the idea of “Might for Right” (as opposed to “might makes right”) and Lee plays with that concept throughout the book, with characters debating the proper use, if any, of force to solve problems. The various POV characters allow for a nuanced discussion in the context of many of our current societal problems – not just climate change, but white supremacy, xenophobia, misogyny, and more.

Lee also gives us a more diverse cast than traditional Arthurian retellings (a trend I’ve noticed the past handful of years and for which I’m happy): Miriam is a woman of color; her peers include an older woman, a transgender character, and a lesbian couple; Kay, Arthur’s adoptive brother, is a man of color with pagan beliefs; Lancelot is homosexual (and yes, Lee does give us an in-flashback tweak to the standard Camelot love-triangle). This allows the author to explore the idea of who gets to be a “hero” and how that might be perceived by less open-minded people. Through Kay and Lancelot, the author also gets to investigate how we process grief and grudges and what both might look like for the eternally reincarnated.

Arthurian purists, who want the king and his knights portrayed only in the noblest of lights, may want to pass this one up because the author does not shy away from showing the characters’ flaws. But for those like me who enjoy retellings in which “infallible” legends are revealed as having been fallible/human should pick this up, as should those who like their fantasy creatures mixed with modern real-world concerns.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Perilous Times published on May 23, 2023.

Book Review: THE HITHERTO SECRET EXPERIMENTS OF MARIE CURIE

TITLE: The Hitherto Secret Experiments of Marie Curie

EDITORS: Bryan Thomas Schmidt and Henry Herz

350 pages, Blackstone Publishing, ISBN 9781665047036 (hardcover, also e-book and audio)

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: An excellent collection of stories that consider what might have happened had Marya Skłodowska (who grew up to be Marie Curie) used her scientific knowledge to combat threats to her family and friends. While most of the stories feature a supernatural threat, a few are more standard mysteries. The tales are grounded in the truths of Marya’s childhood: the early deaths of her mother and elder sister, the Russian occupation of Warsaw, and the lack of public education for girls. Many of the stories are followed by author’s notes explaining the science Marya uses to solve problems and help her friends, which I hope will add to the editors’ intent of inspiring children, especially girls, to go into STEM fields.

LONGER REVIEW: The Hitherto Secret Experiments of Marie Curie posits a world in which the teenage Marie Curie, née Skłodowska, uses her scientific knowledge to protect family and friends from threats ranging from murderers to the supernatural. While a few of the stories stray from the concept (either by not including a science-based solution to the problem, or by having the title character do something downright villainous), most fit the bill.

Marya Skłodowska grew up in Warsaw, which was then under Russian dominion. Girls were only allowed to attend school to a certain age, and Poles were treated by the Russians as second-class citizens in their own city. When laboratory instruction in the sciences was removed from the curricula for Polish students, Marya and some of her peers attended a “flying university” that changed locations to avoid Russian detection. Most of the stories take place during the time Marya and her friends were students at a regular “gymnasia” (school) for Polish girls, but a few take place during the “flying university” years, and at least one during the year Marya spent living with relatives in the Polish countryside. Only one (“The Beast” by Stacia Deutsch) features an adult Marie Curie and is a neat twist on the typical time-travel story.

The volume opens with “Uncrowned Kings” by Seanan McGuire, who herself knows more than just a little bit about using hard science in science fiction and horror. After the death of her eldest sister by typhus, Marya stops believing in God and starts trusting in science. When something that seems like typhus rears its ugly head six years later but only affecting children and teens including another of her sisters, Marya follows the evidence to find the true source of this latest scourge: a mythical rat-king in the sewers. McGuire’s tale sets the tone of the book perfectly: showcasing Marya’s determination to not let others fall victim to preventable disease, her curiosity about the scientific underpinnings of the universe, her devotion to family and friends, all ensconced in a story that includes some fantastical element. “The Cold White Ones” by Susanne L. Lambdin also uses the return of typhus to Warsaw as a launching point but with a different supernatural problem at the core.

Marya’s grief and anger over the untimely deaths of her mother and eldest sister, Zofia, are palpable in many of the stories, not just McGuire’s. Sometimes the emotions spur the action, sometimes the action helps Marya process her grief – I’m thinking particularly here of Alethea Kontis’ beautiful “Marya’s Monster,” in which Marya returns from a St. Andrew’s Day birthday party to encounter a wolf-like monster under her bed. I don’t want to say too much more about how the story progresses, except that it is a stunning look at how we process grief and loss.

Other favorites in the anthology that feature a supernatural menace of some sort as Mylo Cabria’s “Three Ravens,” Scott Sigler’s “A Glow in the Dark,” and Jonathan Maberry’s “The Night Flyers,” which closes on the book on as solid a note as McGuire’s story opened it, focusing as it does on the other bane of Marya’s existence: the Russian overlords controlling Warsaw. The story is especially affecting as in 2023 we watch Russia’s continued war on Ukraine.

Not every story features a supernatural element. In “The Magic of Science,” co-editor Bryan Thomas Schmidt teams with author G.P. Charles to give us a wonderful “cozy mystery:” a girl in Marya’s dorm wakes up to discover her skin has turned blue. Later that day, a cook at the school dies. Supernatural explanations are put forward by her fellow students, but Marya is sure there is a rational scientific explanation. There is, and the path to it is well-developed, a very “fair play” kind of mystery. Steve Pantazis’ “The Prize” also seems to lack, or at least downplays, a supernatural element, pitting Marya and a rival classmate against the impending death of the classmate’s father by metal poisoning.

Many of the stories are followed with an explanation of the science that underpins the story, which I think enhances the book’s ability to interest young readers in the sciences and encourage them, especially young girls, to pursue STEM studies.

I received an electronic advance review copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. The Hitherto Secret Experiments of Marie Curie was published on April 11, 2023.

Book Review: FEED THEM SILENCE

TITLE: Feed Them Silence

AUTHOR: Lee Mandelo

112 pages, Tordotcom Publishing, ISBN 9781250824509 (hardcover; also, e-book and audio)

MY RATING:  4 stars out of 5

SHORT REVIEW: In Feed Them Silence, Lee Mandelo’s penchant for characters searching for answers to questions that get to the heart of who they are combines with their felicity with sensory details that immerse the reader in the character’s head and world to create a work of lush, sometimes gut-punching, beauty that questions where the line is between ethical and abusive research practices involving animals who can’t give consent and ruminates on human and animals’ shared need to belong. Feed Them Silence is a moving and effective look at the ways in which we seek connection and how our obsessions lead as much to heartbreak as to breakthroughs. At 112 pages, it’s a fast read but not a forgettable one.

LONGER REVIEW: Lee Mandelo’s new release, Feed Them Silence, is in concept and execution about as far as one can get from their previous book Summer Sons: novella vs. novel, science fiction rather than supernatural horror, cold labs and winter forests in place of hot Southern gothic buildings and summer cemeteries. What the works share is lead characters determined to find answers to questions that get to the heart of who they are, and Mandelo’s felicity with sensory details that immerse the reader in the character’s head and world.

Doctor Sean Kell-Luddon’s lifelong love of wolves has led to her current research project: using a surgically inserted neurological interface to transmit the thoughts and emotions of one of the world’s last free-roaming wild wolves to Sean’s own brain. (At the same time, her research team collects the raw data of the transmission for possible future use by the folks funding the research project.) Mandelo does a wonderful job contrasting Sean’s inner life when connected to her wolf Kate, especially the sense of belonging and emotional connection, with her outer life, which is clearly fraying even before the novella begins (especially her marriage, but her relationship to her team as well). Sean is searching not only for an understanding of, and a way to help, her nearly-extinct favorite species but also for a deeper connection psychologically to replace the one she’s losing in the physical world.

Scientists often speak of the dangers of anthropomorphizing – assigning human thoughts and characteristics to – animals (wild or domesticated) whose brains do not function the way ours do. Sean’s rational intention to avoid it falters the longer and more often she is directly connected to Kate via the interface. Transcribing what she gleans into human terms and being unable to separate her personal life from her project sets up the final conflict of the book beautifully.

If I have one complaint about the book, it’s that the narrow Sean-centric POV, which gives us such amazing insight into Sean’s intentions, history, and altering mental state, does not allow us to get to know some of the other characters as well as I would have liked, in particular Sean’s wife, Riya. Riya does play an important role in the story, she’s not just a prop to hang Sean’s faults on, so I would like to have seen some of the events of the book from her perspective. That’s the joy and the sting of novellas, though. I an avowed fan of the format, but the tight focus that makes novellas so enjoyable sometimes leaves us wanting the deeper insight a longer work might provide. That being said, the supporting cast of Feed Them Silence is all well-drawn and distinct. The world-building surrounding Sean, Riya, the team, and Kate is perfectly evoked: with just a few sentences, we know we are in a near-future where climate change has wreaked havoc on wild animal populations as resources dwindle. Also, a world where corporate interests are willing to fund cutting-edge research projects that academia is hesitant to touch – drawing attention to how hard it is to delineate that line where ethical research turns abusive and teasing questions of intent versus execution when it comes to the uses to which the research results are put.

Through it all, Mandelo fills the book with lush, sometimes gut-punching, sensory details, especially but not only when Sean is connected to Kate. I became completely immersed in descriptions of the cold winter forest, the aches and pains of being undernourished, the smells of fellow pack members, the taste of blood and raw meat as the pack takes down a rare bit of prey. I felt like I was truly there. There’s also a very affecting scene between Sean and her Riya that trades on the same level of sensory detail.

Feed Them Silence is a moving and effective look at the ways in which we seek connection and how our obsessions lead as much to heartbreak as to breakthroughs. At 112 pages, it’s a fast read but not a forgettable one.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Feed Them Silence released on March 14, 2023.

So Who Publishes Novellas These Days?

When genre readers think of novellas, they tend to think of either TorDotCom, who release a steady stream of awards-nominated novellas every year (including this week’s release Feed Them Silence by Lee Mandelo, which I’ll be reviewing later today, and next week’s The Lies of the Ajungo by Moses Ose Utomi), or of magazines like Asimov’s, AnalogSF, and The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction which have regularly featured novelettes and novellas in their monthly content over their decades of publication.

But there are plenty of other magazines and small press publishers bringing out novellas every year in a variety of genres, and I’d like to mention some of them. This is far from a complete list, and I encourage readers to mention any I don’t in the comments!

Neon Hemlock Press puts out novellas in the horror/SF/fantasy genres, with a focus on LGBTQIA+ creators and stories. They are currently in the last days of their annual novella crowdfunding event, where you can back (a.k.a. preorder) their 2023 slate in print and/or e-book formats. Go check them out before the crowdfunding effort ends on Thursday, March 16th at 4pm.

Speaking of queer-focused publishers: several items in the catalogs of both Lethe Press (including Octavia Cade’s The Stone Weta) and Rebel Satori Press are novella-length, spanning all the genres of speculative fiction and moving into historical, romance and mimetic fiction as well.

Looking novel-length queer romance? Check out Bold Stroke Books. I’m a particular fan of ‘Nathan Burgoine’s “Little Village” novella series, and I’ve been meaning to check out some of their lesbian romance novella collections.

Stelliform Press’s novellas focus on the on-going climate emergency and intersectional views of environmental justice, and range in genre from horror (The House of Drought by Dennis Mombauer) to fantastic science fiction (Weird Fishes by Rae Mariz), and every point in between. Their latest, Another Life by Sarena Ulibarri, comes out May 25th.

If the classics and mimetic fiction are more your thing, look no further than Melville House Publishing. Their “Art of the Novella” collection reissues classic novellas, some in solo book form for the first time ever. They also have a “Contemporary Art of the Novella” series if you’re looking for modern mimetic works at novella length.

Aqueduct Press’ Conversation Pieces series brings feminist science fiction to the demanding reader. While not every volume in this long-running series is a novella (some are poetry or short story collections, others works of non-fiction), quite a few are. Recent releases include To The Woman in the Pink Hat by LaToya Jordan and Apollo Weeps by Xian Mao.

On the mystery side of things, The Mysterious Bookshop’s Bibliomysteries series are usually novelette length excursions into everything from noir to cozy mysteries.

And in addition to the magazines listed at the start of this post, I would be remiss in not mentioning Clarkesworld, which also regularly includes novellas in their pages.

Book Review: SOMEONE IN TIME

TITLE: Someone in Time: Tales of Time-Crossed Romance

EDITOR: Jonathan Strahan

330 pages, Rebellion Publishing, ISBN 9781786185099 (softcover, also available in audiobook, e-book)

DESCRIPTION: (from inside front cover): Even time travel can’t unravel love.

Time-travel is a way for writers to play with history and imagine different futures – for better, or worse.

When romance is thrown into the mix, time-travel becomes a passionate tool, or heart-breaking weapon. A time agent in the 22nd century puts their whole mission at risk when they fall in love with the wrong person. No matter which part of history a man visits, he cannot escape his ex. A woman is desperately in love with the time-space continuum, but it doesn’t love her back. As time passes and falls apart, a time-traveler must say goodbye to their soulmate.

With stories from best-selling and award-winning authors such as Seanan McGuire, Alix E. Harrow and Nina Allan, this anthology gives a taste for the rich treasure trove of stories we can imagine with love, loss and reunion across time and space. 

MY RATING: 5 out of 5 stars

MY THOUGHTS: In lesser hands, an anthology of romantic time-travel stories could have been very one-note and predictable. Thankfully, editor Jonathan Strahan is not “lesser hands.” Someone In Time: Tales of Time-Crossed Romance fully embraces diversity: not just in the types of romantic couples featured but also in the types of time-travel, points of view, and genres.

Eight of the sixteen stories feature LGBTQIA+ characters in a variety of relationship configurations (possibly 9; in one story I’m unsure of the narrator’s gender identity which is probably me not noticing context clues). Some of these queer protagonists are just discovering their sexual orientation, some have been out for years; some of the relationships are new and fraught with “will they or won’t they” tension while some are long-term relationships facing new challenges. Of course, the same is true for the eight stories in the anthology that focus on straight characters, but I still find it noteworthy when stories featuring LGBTQIA+ protagonists in anthologies like this aren’t focused on the trauma of being queer but rather on the ups-and-downs of all romantic relationships. Not that these stories ignore the very real consequences of being queer in certain times and places; they just don’t make that the sole focus of the stories.

Time-travel is thought of as an SFnal sub-genre, usually involving a specific and iconic (or iconic-looking) device: a tricked-out car, a TARDIS, a time-bubble or -machine. And a number of these stories fit that description, with varying degrees of detail as to what the device looks like and the science behind it. But several of these stories move time-travel into the realm of fantasy: the time-travel is an inherent ability, or something accomplished through magic. Part of the fun of starting each new story was wondering how the time-travel itself would be expressed, and the variety helped keep things interesting.

The anthology starts strong right out of the gate with the one-two-three punch of Alix E. Harrow’s “Roadside Attraction,” Zen Cho’s “The Past Life Reconstruction Service,” and Seanan McGuire’s “First Aid.” All three feature LGBTQIA protagonists (one who only relaxes into his identity as the story progresses, one mourning a broken relationship, and one who is out) who meet their romantic partners through different methods of time-travel (a roadside attraction that no one seems to really understand, a mental stimulation device, and a time-bubble that malfunctions).

Sarah Gailey’s “I Remember Satellites” gives us time-travel as a method of making sure history stays on track, and the sacrifices some time-travelers must make to be sure it does. It felt of a piece with Theodora Goss’s “A Letter to Merlin,” in which time-travelers inhabit already-existing historical figures, essentially taking them over to be sure they do what they’re supposed to.

The fantasy side of time-travel is explored in Rowan Coleman’s sweet “Romance: Historical” (who can resist a romance across the decades set in a mysterious bookshop?) and Carrie Vaughn’s “Dead Poets” (which involves an ancient drinking vessel and two quite different historical poets).

Smack in the middle of the anthology, but thankfully not one right after the other, are a couple of truly heart-breaking stories that play with the nature of time-travel: Elizabeth Hand’s “Chronia,” in which the narrator explains to a lover how many times they have and have not met as chronal fluxes mess with their interpersonal timeline, and “Unabashed, or, Jackson, Whose Cowardice Tore a Hole in the Chronoverse” by Sam J. Miller, in which the narrator recounts all the ways in which he might have saved his new boyfriend from being killed had he not been so afraid of the question “walk me home?”.

Leave it to Catherynne M. Valente to craft a story around the ever-changing, gender-fluid, age-fluid personification of the Space-Time Continuum in “The Difference Between Love and Time,” which is both sweet and heart-breaking.

The exploitation of past resources by travelers from the future infuse Lavanya Lakshminarayan’s “Bergamot and Vetiver” and Ellen Klages’ “Time Gypsy” with an extra layer of late-stage capitalism topicality that enhances rather than overwhelms the romance at the heart of each story.

The anthology also includes stories by Jeffrey Ford (“The Golden Hour”), Nina Allen (“The Lichens”), Margo Lanagan (“The Place of All Souls”), and Sameem Siddiqui (“Timed Obsolescence”) that are equally as good as the stories I’ve already mentioned. In fact, I don’t think there’s a weak story in the bunch.

Someone in Time: Tales of Time-Crossed Romance will appeal to romance readers and speculative fiction readers alike.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review. Because of how delayed I am in posting this, Someone in Time is already available in print, e-book, and audio formats.

Book Review: AND THEN I WOKE UP

TITLE: And Then I Woke Up

AUTHOR: Malcolm Devlin

176 pages, TorDotCom Publishing, ISBN 9781250798077 (paperback, also available in e-book)

DESCRIPTION: (from the back cover): In a world reeling from an unusual plague, monsters lurk in the streets while terrified survivors arm themselves and roam the countryside in packs. Or perhaps something very different is happening. When a disease affects how reality is perceived, it’s hard to be certain of anything…

Spence is one of the “cured” living at the Ironside rehabilitation facility. Haunted by guilt, he refuses to face the changed world until a new inmate challenges him to help her find her old crew. But if he can’t tell the truth from the lies, how will he know if he has earned the redemption he dreams of? How will he know he hasn’t just made things worse?

MY RATING:  5 stars out of 5

MY THOUGHTS: I love a good unreliable narrator, and Spence, the narrator of And Then I Woke Up, absolutely fits that description. Of course, being unreliable isn’t really his fault: his world has been turned upside down twice thanks to the latest plague, and sometimes his understanding of events is a bit muddled between what really happened and what he thinks happened. Reliable or not, Spence’s voice is captivating, pulling the reader along as he jumps between his present (returned to Ironside, as we find out in the opening pages of the book), his recent past (time spent outside the facility locating a fellow inmate’s plague-victim “crew”), and his earlier life (as a member of a different plague-victim “crew”). It’s not often I pronounce that a book is “unputdownable.” As much as I love novellas, I usually end up taking at least two sittings to read one of this length. But And Then I Woke Up turned out to be “unputdownable” for me, and I suspect it will also for many of my friends who love horror.

While I enjoy apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic fiction that takes time to explain the scientific or political underpinnings of whatever plague/crisis the world is facing, I really appreciated that author Malcolm Devlin did not spend any time on that aspect of world-building here. The nature of the plague, exactly how it works, is as unclear to the reader as it is to the character narrating the story. Spence is not a scientist, a reporter, a politician: he’s an average guy who has held down a number of jobs and is working as a dishwasher when the plague breaks loose. He doesn’t understand epidemiology; he just understands that suddenly some people are zombies, and some people aren’t, and that he needs to do whatever he needs to do to survive this zombie apocalypse.

Except that, as the book description above points out, it’s not actually the zombie apocalypse, but rather a distortion in how people perceive reality. This is a horror novel that is more-than-topical, taking on the rise of “false news” and the societal effect of the mindset that everyone’s opinion is as valid, if not more valid, than actual fact. Throughout the novella, Devlin touches on how just a few “true believers” can sway the perceptions of “followers” as well as how tenuous “deprogramming” efforts can be even when someone voluntarily leaves the cult (or in this case, the “crew”) when they start to question the beliefs they’re following.

While there is plenty of bloodshed and death in the book, it is not described in excruciating detail. This is not gross-out horror; it’s more psychological, as both the reader and Spence come to terms with the things he and others have done while subject to the plague. Concentrating on the psychological aspect, on Spence’s unsurety about certain events and absolutely certainty of others (along with hints that what he’s certain about may not be what actually happened), gives the book the narrative drive that kept me engaged from first page to last.

Absolutely recommended for folks who want their horror to be thought-provoking along with being disturbing and bloody.

I received an advance reading copy of this book for free from TorDotCom Publishing via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

SUNDAY SHORTS: Three From The Year's Best African Speculative Fiction 2021

I love short fiction, and Sunday Shorts is the feature where I get to blog about it. I’ve considered promising to review a short story every day, but that’s a lot of pressure. And while no one will fault me if I miss days, I’ll feel guilty, which will lead to not posting at all. So better to stick to a weekly post highlighting a couple/three stories, as I’ve done in the past.

2021 saw the release of what will hopefully be many volumes to come of The Year’s Best African Speculative Fiction, edited by Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki. The inaugural volume includes stories by twenty-five authors from across the breadth of the African diaspora. The stories are, as one would expect, all top-notch. Here are my thoughts on just a few:

“Egoli” by T.L. Huchu features an old village woman on a sometimes precarious pre-sunrise walk, reminiscing about how much technology has changed since she was a little girl, when it was unusual for a village to have even a wireless radio to listen to news. Now there are smart phones and people not only leaving village life behind but leaving the entire planet behind. She’s out and about because her grandson has told her to watch the southern sky around dawn to see something remarkable. I don’t want to spoil what that something is or why it matters, but it is tied up in what makes the story at turns wistful, nostalgic, lonely, and almost elegiac. I’ve commented many times in the past about how I’m usually not a fan of “second person” narrative, where “you” are the character (I find it creepy most of the time), but Huchu is such a deft touch with emotional and sensory elements that I found myself invested in the story and not creeped out at all.

Pemi Aguda’s “Things Boys Do” focuses on three quite different men about to become fathers, and the fear and loss they experience upon the arrival of their sons. Wives get sick, die, or just leave; friends and family drift away; jobs are lost. It turns out the three men have a common past although they have not seen or thought of each other in years, and that past is haunting them. The story is obviously horror from the start, but the creepiness of the small details bio-accumulates – you notice them at first but they don’t seem so “horrific” until they start to add up. Aguda’s interspersing of each man’s travails in the present with a slow reveal of their shared past is perfectly paced. Even if you figure out early on where the story is going (and I don’t think I’ve spoiled anything big in this description), the path is twisty and will leave you thinking.

In “The Thought Box” by Tlotlo Tsamaase, a woman in an emotionally abusive relationship with a man who takes advantage of her begins to learn the depths of his control and infidelity after he brings home a “thought box” so that they can review each others’ thoughts and thus have “total trust” in each other. The truth of her situation is so much worse than she, or the reader, initially suspects. The SFnal element (a box that records and plays back thoughts) is just the wedge into what is really a psychological horror story. Tsamaaase slowly moves the main character from being concerned she’s just paranoid and overworked to the recognition she’s been gaslit, and it is masterfully done; I believed every turn in the main character’s emotional state. This is one of those stories where the final twist is a brutal gut-punch that the author has absolutely earned.