'Nathan Burgoine's Blog, page 45

Short Stories 366:147 — “Lightning Bugs in a Jar,” by Greg Herren

[image error]I have to admit I love a good revenge story, and if there’s a single sort of anti-hero motivation I can get behind, it’s one of comeuppance or vengeance. That probably doesn’t speak well of my character, but the real world isn’t often fair or balanced, so I enjoy seeing such things righted in fictional ones. Now, that’s maybe overstating what’s going on in “Lightning Bugs in a Jar,” the latest Greg Herren story from his collection Survivor’s Guilt and Other Stories, but it does share a similar vibe.

We meet a literary writer’s wife as she’s trying to do a bit of tidying up after a “meet and greet” her literary husband has hosted with local students. He’s loud and very opinionated, and it’s late in the evening, and the young writing students are completely captivated—literary hero worship—but all the woman wants is for them to leave so it can all be over. While she picks at the mess and tries to school any facial responses from lines she’s heard her husband say hundreds of times, we get pieces of the history of the couple, and two things become clear: the author is not a particular good man, and his wife has come to the end of their relationship. There is a lot of loss and pain in their shared history, but for every loss or pain along the way, there is an admixture of complete callousness or selfishness on the part of the man, and so she is cleaning up, and hoping the students leave on time because she’s got something special planned for after the event.

I think the slice of this tale I liked the most was the wife’s agency, and how in a very real (and very dark) way, she takes back control of her life from a pattern of being secondary-to that has lasted since her marriage and motherhood began. This is a woman who is so completely, thoroughly, done, and if her conclusion and eventual plan is a particularly dark choice, well… this is a Greg Herren story, and in keeping with the rest of the stories in the collection, it’s about a survivor, just not necessarily in the way one might think.

 

Short Stories 366:146 — “The Star-Crossed Lovers,” by Jess Faraday

[image error]There is no one way to be a writer, and there is no one set of advice a writer should or could follow, and one aspect of this I always find amusing to share with other writers is just how often I have no title for a piece, even long after it hits a final draft. Inevitably, about one in three of the writers I admit this to says some variation of “I can’t write without a title.” That’s my long-winded way of saying how much I love the title of this story from Jess Faraday, found in Shadow of Justice, and the one-two-three-four punch it represents in the story.

We come back to Simon Pearce, still in Edinburgh, still navigating what has now become a two-month relationship with Cal, a medical student, and still uneasy and unsure about how to even begin to do so given his position as a constable and the reality of the time and who they are: the late eighteen hundreds, and a pair of gay men, respectively. Faraday does a really great job of slipping into Simon’s mind here, and the borderline naiveté he displays about relationships makes total sense for a man who has, prior to this point, managed clandestine meetings at best. He’s a copper in a time when being himself can get him arrested. It’s a lot to face down.

So when a date with Cal to witness an Egyptian display of two mummies (a man and his “companion,” another man) is interrupted by an explosion, the discovery of murder, and an ever-more complex series of revelations about the museum staff and their relationships, Simon throws himself into the task of figuring out who is responsible. That it also deflects his attention from whatever he did wrong that has upset Cal is certainly a plus for Simon, but the reader spends as much time hoping Simon will solve that particular mystery as he does the actual murder. And the one-two-three-four punch reference of the title? Well, I won’t ruin that, but again, I tip my hat.

Short Stories 366:145 — “The Sneeze,” by Anna Castle

[image error]The stories in Crime Travel (an anthology of crime stories centred around the theme of time travel) have thus far taken a “scientific” approach to time travel (in that machines are involved, usually). Then Anna Castle came along and decided ‘Meh, what-evs, my character starts to time travel when she sneezes‘ and folks, I am totally down for this approach. Here we meet a young woman who is writing her thesis on a lesser-known Victorian English pamphleteer and not feeling super-confident about it. She has a cold, too, which doesn’t help, and then comes the sneeze.

Finding oneself in the wrong time period is daunting no matter how it happens, but the dawning realization of the power of the sneeze is an amusing side-plot in this story, and as she realizes not only can she hop back and forth (again, using sneezes) but that she’s arrived at precisely the right point to shore up her thesis with some first-hand discussion with her subject, it seems like everything is aligning to make things great for her. Until she accidentally sets something in motion, her subject is accused of murder, and when she goes back to the present most of her source material is gone because, y’know, accusations of murder tend to derail things.

Trying to time-travel to (a) fix a terrible mistake of a crime that also (b) helps with your thesis is just such a great combination I was chuckling my way through the story. I love how harried and just-not-ready for this she is (brings back my early days in Literary academia, for sure, before I decided it wasn’t for me), and even moreso as she decides the way to fix this is bribery, confronting the real criminal (because research in the present lets her know who really did the deed) and maybe some flirting with her thesis topic. I mean, he’s hot. What are you gonna do?

Short Stories 366:144 — “An Elaborate Scheme,” by Marie Bilodeau

[image error]Anyone who has read any Marie Bilodeau might know to expect some punchy dialog and a generous slice of humour—and I do— “An Elaborate Scheme” had me snerking out loud multiple times despite being prepared. That she got to play with ‘Whix and Terk makes it all the better, as those two are some of my favourite side-characters in the Clan Chronicles. Like the vast majority of the stories in The Clan Chronicles: Tales from Plexis, you don’t need to know anything about the characters involved to get and enjoy the story (in fact, you get the nascence of this epic partnership between the previous story and this one), and it would stand perfectly well on its own.

‘Whix and Terk aren’t quite partners yet (they’re partnered with other aliens, in fact), and they have their own individual approach to doing their job as enforcers (think elite rangers keeping the peace throughout the galaxy, say), a superior has seen their unique qualities and assigns them both to just, y’know, “fix all that stuff” going on during a difficult time in Plexis (the interstellar shopping mall in which all the stories are set in this collection). ‘Whix is investigating an art theft that isn’t at all what it seems. Terk found a bomb. (They decide to work on the bomb first, which seems prudent.)

What follows is a funny, wild, and entirely engrossing little caper as Terk and ‘Whix realize their completely separate and strange cases aren’t so separate, and the intersection and revelations of who was doing what and why and with whom had me laughing out loud—especially a particular plea from those responsible once they’re caught. Bilodeau just has a way with dialog that I’d envy to total distraction if I wasn’t too busy enjoying. This alien-bird scientist and big-bruiser human partnership frankly seems born for her style of storytelling.

Short Stories 366:143 — “King Dragon,” by Michael Swanwick

[image error]Part of the reason I began this project to chat about a short story a day was to give myself a carrot to dangle over the piles of collections and anthologies I’ve bought over the years where I’ve read some or a few of the stories (often the tales by people I know or authors I’ve already read and enjoyed) but never quite completed. I don’t feel guilt about unread books (buying the book supported the authors and that’s enough for me to feel I didn’t waste anything). But sometimes those anthologies were bought under different circumstances, and today’s book is one of those: a book I picked up from a second-hand bookshop while on vacation a few years ago, because I needed a pocketbook to carry around and read, and one I wouldn’t mind losing or if it got wet or whatever. Fast-forward to now, and I’m still half-way through Year’s Best Fantasy 4 (celebrating the best fantasy of 2003) and let’s talk about a dragon.

Michael Swanwick’s “dragon” is a technological beast in a fantastical world, and a town terrorized/ruled by said dragon, and is the story of young Will, who is forced to interface with the dragon (it involves needles and a cockpit and it’s borderline gruesome in places) while he desperately tries to figure out a path to freedom for himself and those he cares about (and the whole village, while he’s at it). The story itself walks a line between hopelessness and ingenuity as Will learns more about the dragon, about the more magical sides of things, and even works with the local seer/prophet to see if she can help. All the while, the dragon uses Will, hurting him and holding him hostage.

The resolution to Will’s dilemma is a great mix of fantasy and the strange technology that is the dragon, alongside cleverness, a sacrifice of power (willingly and from someone else, no less), and the moment of triumph is a great moment indeed. And it is only a moment, as the story is told in a “let me tell you about…” way, and ends with, of course, learning that a big big evil shows up a little later, “but that’s another story.” Despite that kinda/sorta non-ending, “King Dragon” was just such a strange mix of magic and technology that I forgave it the brief victory.

Short Stories 366:142 — “Buchi’s Girls,” by Lesley Nneka Arimah

[image error]I’m pretty sure now that What It Means When a Man Falls From the Sky is trying to break my heart, one story at a time. It’s doing so incredibly skillfully, and with stories about people—usually mothers-and-daughters—in terrible situations finding a way to eke out a sliver of hope or dignity, but it’s still breaking my damn heart. Such is the case with “Buchi’s Girls” where we meet a widowed woman, her two daughters, and the life she’s now living in her wealthy brother-in-law’s home.

The layers are uncovered slowly, at a pace that rubs salt into the previous wound and then wounds again, as Buchi’s life, her husband, an accident, and her daughters unfold during a single day that will end with a major change. She is more-or-less acting as hired help for her sister in order to stay in their large home, and her daughters—one is now voluntarily mute, the other desperately tries to do whatever she can to make sure they’re allowed to stay—are her central concern. She cannot afford to send them to a proper school. She cannot afford anything. And as the story progresses, we learn that includes her dignity, but not her desire to find a way—any way—to help her daughters.

All the stories in this collection have this familial core to them, and while I’m the last person moved by the holding up of family as sacrosanct, I think what Lesley Nneka Arimah does so damn well is show how particular families work, rather than some sort of over-arching “every family” ideal, and the end result is my complete buy-in to these stories. Y’know, despite the ongoing crushing of the heart.

Short Stories 366:141 — “Charity™,” by Derek Newman-Stille

[image error]Nothing Without Us as an anthology whole declares bluntly in the opening that there is one kind of content that isn’t included: inspiration porn. In the hands of the authors, the stories range through styles, and deliver all manner of genres. Then, with  “Charity,” Derek Newman-Stille takes the whole notion of inspiration porn and nudges it in a speculative fiction direction into a place and time nowhere near far enough from where we currently stand, and it’s a brilliant story.

We meet a man who is an artist, who lost his leg, and who is made to perform a particular role at an official fundraiser where he cannot wear his custom prosthetic, but instead must draw on the sympathy (not empathy) of the wealthy to convince them to take part in Charity, where they’ll donate to the cause (that being the upkeep of the disabled people present), after the Charity officials take their cut, of course. And then the artist hits a wall.

The worldbuilding here from Newman-Stille is chillingly believable, a corporate replacement of social networks that are already not doing anywhere near enough, and the result being all the worse for those who need accommodation. Through this single artist, and his handler, we see just how broken almost everything in this world has become, but most importantly—and this comes up again and again in Nothing Without Us—the artist himself? He remains unbroken. And while it’s not necessarily an immediately hopeful tale, it’s not resignation, either, but the balance achieved by those who don’t give up.

Short Stories 366:140 — “Acts of Contrition,” by Greg Herren

[image error]I keep coming back to a particular place as I read my way through Greg Herren’s Survivor’s Guilt and Other Stories, and it’s this: Herren does such a solid job of unreliable narrators. In this latest story, “Acts of Contrition,” I spent the first third of the story so completely unsure whether or not our fallen priest was falsely accused, having a breakdown, and/or genuinely a decent fellow, and by the end of the tale, I’m still not entirely sure—though I have my suspicions.

“Acts of Contrition” opens with temptation and murder, and former-Father O’Reilly as he navigates his lot in New Orleans where he’s still allowed to do some work for the church, but has been released from his vows because of something—we find out some of the details later—the church decided was too hard to fight on his behalf. Rather than a scandal, a defrocked priest and a payout was the solution, and so now O’Reilly works outreach with street youth alongside the actual priest at a small church.

There’s a cameo for fans of Herren’s mystery series, and a serial killer provides the ticking clock of the story as O’Reilly tries to bring a particular young woman to safety during a New Orleans rainy streak choking the city with an ongoing storm. At the same time, the man’s dreams, his less-than-stable nature, and his bitterness and anger over the accusations that sent him to New Orleans roil up in counterpoint to his “altruistic” plans. It’s a dark little story, and it’s one you can read a few different ways, much like the O’Reilly character himself.

Short Stories 366:139 — “The Haunting of Comiston House,” by Jess Faraday

[image error]Shadow of Justice, a collection of short stories about Constable Simon Pearce, continues to bring a lovely mix of mystery, history, and a queerness-finds-a-way that delights. In the first two tales, we meet Simon Pearce, a gay constable in London of the late 1800’s, and his attempts to be a force for justice in a world that is all to willing to care more for expediency, let alone even pretending to care or protect those who are deemed less worthy. Pearce walks a fine line, knowing often he’s involved in the wrong side as much as he’s trying to act the right way, and also lives with the weight of discovery looming: a queer man would not meet a good end were he outed in the time.

Still, Faraday’s first two mysteries have moved Simon to Edinburgh for the time being, and he’s still there—and happily so, given the encountering of a medical student, Cal, in the previous tale—where he’s working to finish up the investigation of a corrupt official discovered in the second tale. A new mystery, this time involving a seance, potential spirits, and a group of men very much like Simon himself, put the constable to the test on multiple levels.

Simon tries to balance the law with justice, and to keep those like him from going under, a task made all the more difficult when laird comes to Simon about his brother’s “companion,” with the desire for the police to deal with the man’s “undue influence.” It’s very clear what’s happening, at least to Simon, but once he’s in the room with all the players, he starts to see things aren’t as simple as they might appear—especially when it the evening turns out to include Cal, his own “companion.” What follows is another solid mystery from Faraday, and the ongoing arc of Simon considering reaching for lasting happiness, something he’d always shut himself away from previously.

Short Stories 366:138 — “On the Boardwalk,” by Korina Moss

[image error]The conceit of this story from Crime Travel feels tailor-made since I’m such a spec-fic lover, but not only did “On the Boardwalk” have so many layers of the crime short built into its small page count, it managed to also be a genuinely moving tale of friendship going above-and-beyond: the architect of the time-travel in this story, Jacob, is someone has always existed somewhat on the outside, and his best friend, Ruby, is the one who is dying has made the time-travel request.

Now, in another author’s hands, this could be Ruby’s request to save herself—perhaps an earlier diagnosis or forewarning might have stopped the cancer in its tracks?—but instead Moss takes a different turn and it becomes about preventing the death of her twin brother in 1975, so that when she passes from her cancer, her parents haven’t lost both of their children. The two end up in the past chasing down what she can remember, alongside what they learn, and race the clock to prevent his death.

The end result isn’t just a whodunnit, as Ruby always felt her twin’s death was no accident, but while the tale unfolds, Jacob struggles with the sensory overload, and Ruby tries to push a failing body to save her brother and they are both trying so hard it reels the reader right in. Once the mystery is revealed, and they get their shot, Moss brings a few more deft touches to an already strong tale, and I was left just pausing for a while after reading, and letting it all settle.