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Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color
Haunted by starlings in the dark, a young woman spirals into an altered state of consciousness. At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
21 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 31, 2017
1 person is currently reading
82 people want to read
About the author
Sunny Moraine
75 books241 followersSunny Moraine is—among many other things—the author of the novella Your Shadow Half Remains, published by Tor Nightfire. Their debut short fiction collection Singing With All My Skin and Bone was released in 2016 and their short stories have been published in Tor.com, Uncanny, Clarkesworld, Strange Horizons, Lightspeed, and Nightmare. An occasional podcaster/narrator/voice actor, they are the writer, producer, and lead actor of the serial horror drama podcast Gone, which wrapped up its first season in January 2018 and released a second season in 2022. For more info, please see their website at sunnymoraine.com.
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
May 24, 2020
All these thoughts, waiting in the shadows, solidifying into facts. Those people you sleep beside: Do you realize how much trust that is? How much you trust them? It would be so easy. I don’t know why every bedroom wall isn’t painted with blood.
i do my weekly “free tor short read” every saturday morning, usually between 5 and 6 a.m.
that’s a pretty bleary-eyed time of day, but routines are routines. and when i find myself reading a really great one, it’s a fantastic experience - a sort of tender bridge between dreaming and reading that enhances the magic of a well-told story.
but it can so easily go the other way - reading a slow story in the too-early morning makes it very tempting to fall back into sleepytime, and reading a confusing one sometimes makes me question that i haven’t in fact drifted off in the middle and filled in the gaps with dreams.
this one confused me.
if you like stories that evoke mood and atmosphere, that leave you with more questions than answers, that give you the shivers of there being some unidentifiable horror just beyond your vision - this story will probably please you just fine.
sometimes that kind of reading experience pleases me, too.
but sometimes i like my ambiguity to be a bit more leading, more fathomable - i want to be able to follow clues to an unwritten but reasonable conclusion that at least allows me the illusion of closure, at least in my own mind.
i don’t know what to make of this one.
it just frustrated me. and maybe it’s me doing myself a disservice by reading these at the wrong time of day, but i read it through a couple of times, to make sure i hadn’t just dreamed-over important details, and while it’s evocative and appealing on a sensory level, with strong imagery and some lovely lines, it’s too mooshy a story, and not enough of its dots connect for me.
i’m probably wrong, and this is the internet, so i’ll hear all about how very wrong i am, but until i get my corrective snark to set me straight, this is gonna stay at a medium-three. birds birds birds.
read it for yourself here:
http://www.tor.com/2017/05/31/shape-w...
come to my blog!
June 20, 2017
2.5 stars for this short story, free on Tor.com. karen (in her review thread for this story) suggested to me that that I needed to look deeper for meaning, when I was initially very dismissive of this story. I did. I even read the whole thing a second time. I'm still feeling dismissive. :p But YMMV.
Final review, first posted on Fantasy Literature:
A young wife, who seems to have recently moved with her husband into a new home, struggles with visions of flocks of starlings that flutter all around her and whisper with a thousand shadowy voices. She develops a mistrust of her apparently loving and concerned husband, who is blending into a terrifying starling king type of figure in her mind. She feels totally unable to communicate with him or her friend about her troubled mind and heart. Meanwhile, a terrifying voice speaks to her of fearfully running through a cornfield, of monsters waiting for her and calling to her in the dark, and of debts owed.
“Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color” (the title is taken from a line in T.S. Eliot’s 1925 poem “The Hollow Men”) is highly fantastical on one level. There’s some interesting imagery here, including a creepy cornfield element, perhaps inspired by Stephen King’s “Children of the Corn,” as well as terrifying birds that Hitchcock would have approved of. But once you cut through all of the bird imagery and evocative language, it’s entirely straightforward at its heart: the story of a mentally disturbed woman who’s gradually going over the edge. I don’t believe this is even a fantasy, except to the extent we’re getting inside of the narrator’s head.
The narrator’s thoughts on her mental illness are occasionally intriguing:
Final review, first posted on Fantasy Literature:
A young wife, who seems to have recently moved with her husband into a new home, struggles with visions of flocks of starlings that flutter all around her and whisper with a thousand shadowy voices. She develops a mistrust of her apparently loving and concerned husband, who is blending into a terrifying starling king type of figure in her mind. She feels totally unable to communicate with him or her friend about her troubled mind and heart. Meanwhile, a terrifying voice speaks to her of fearfully running through a cornfield, of monsters waiting for her and calling to her in the dark, and of debts owed.
“Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color” (the title is taken from a line in T.S. Eliot’s 1925 poem “The Hollow Men”) is highly fantastical on one level. There’s some interesting imagery here, including a creepy cornfield element, perhaps inspired by Stephen King’s “Children of the Corn,” as well as terrifying birds that Hitchcock would have approved of. But once you cut through all of the bird imagery and evocative language, it’s entirely straightforward at its heart: the story of a mentally disturbed woman who’s gradually going over the edge. I don’t believe this is even a fantasy, except to the extent we’re getting inside of the narrator’s head.
The narrator’s thoughts on her mental illness are occasionally intriguing:
Some of us want the light left on. But others of us want to surrender to the darkness. Everyone is eager for us to get over it. What we represent. What we are. What they sense. In our terror we become terrifying.While I felt pity for the narrator and sympathy for her husband, ultimately this story failed to particularly interest or move me, and it didn’t especially illuminate the problem of mental illness.
June 12, 2017
This short story is too poetic for me. The storytelling might work for some readers, it's just not for me.
June 11, 2017
They whisper. It’s been like this since we moved in, since the words started flowing again. This house at the far end of the long drive, overshadowed by an entire ecosystem that lost its balance decades ago. It’s full of shadows. I stand beside the car and listen to them as they rustle and flutter and in the end grow still again. I say grow because it’s not an absence of sound but the presence of quiet. It’s a thing in itself, and it swells, blooms like a flower in the dark, feeding on cold night. Stand for a while until the chill becomes too much and overpowers a jacket that’s now too light for the temperature. Inside, into a warm house, but as the door shuts they explode again.
----
There were always shapes in the dark, little girl. You forgot your own monsters but they’re still waiting. Listen: They’re calling. They’re lonely. You ran, and running was love, the rhythm of your feet and heart; your running was a song. We showed ourselves to you. It was all we ever wanted. Your heart in your throat but no further; we didn’t want to take it from you. We come back to you now, with the cold and the dark. Won’t you come to us?
We were waiting for you in the corn. Every year we were waiting, to play.
---
The night is silent but it’s a silence that threatens to break open. It’s like a cage made of glass, like reeds of it that would shiver and chime at the right sound. Chime and then shatter and scatter their pieces, cut through my face and arms and hands, my neck.
---
Bizarre/Fantastical, beautiful, haunting.. kind of dreamlike in the writing and thinking of the main character... drew me in from the first paragraph.
The ending was beautifully tragic and got me thinking a bit.
Read the story here
----
There were always shapes in the dark, little girl. You forgot your own monsters but they’re still waiting. Listen: They’re calling. They’re lonely. You ran, and running was love, the rhythm of your feet and heart; your running was a song. We showed ourselves to you. It was all we ever wanted. Your heart in your throat but no further; we didn’t want to take it from you. We come back to you now, with the cold and the dark. Won’t you come to us?
We were waiting for you in the corn. Every year we were waiting, to play.
---
The night is silent but it’s a silence that threatens to break open. It’s like a cage made of glass, like reeds of it that would shiver and chime at the right sound. Chime and then shatter and scatter their pieces, cut through my face and arms and hands, my neck.
---
Bizarre/Fantastical, beautiful, haunting.. kind of dreamlike in the writing and thinking of the main character... drew me in from the first paragraph.
The ending was beautifully tragic and got me thinking a bit.
Read the story here
June 8, 2017
Really? I. I just have no words. Unreliable narrator, who obviously has a mental illness that ends in tragedy. Feels both distasteful and sad. Mental illness is no joke. Two stars. Not my cup. Might be yours.
May 31, 2017
Every now and then, a perfect story comes along. Maybe not perfect for everyone, but perfect for me.
And how is it perfect, you may ask?
It's a story where the words have been carefully chosen and evoke a place far away, lost in time, to a primal sense of something from my childhood, a moment, a sense of other from before I am what I am now.
It used to happen a lot, when I was a kid and the memories of the strongest experiences of it are with me still.
Most call it deja vu or past life memories. I don't call it anything, really, and there's seldom a reason to talk about it with anyone. I'm already strange enough without giving people fodder for the crazy mill.
My mother loved birds, and the older I get, the more I love them, too.
This is a perfect story and can be read from so many angles, levels and viewpoints. This is a true sensory experience.
Once again, thank you, Tor, for these weekly gifts, some of which give far more than they intended but are always thoughts provoking.
And how is it perfect, you may ask?
It's a story where the words have been carefully chosen and evoke a place far away, lost in time, to a primal sense of something from my childhood, a moment, a sense of other from before I am what I am now.
It used to happen a lot, when I was a kid and the memories of the strongest experiences of it are with me still.
Most call it deja vu or past life memories. I don't call it anything, really, and there's seldom a reason to talk about it with anyone. I'm already strange enough without giving people fodder for the crazy mill.
My mother loved birds, and the older I get, the more I love them, too.
This is a perfect story and can be read from so many angles, levels and viewpoints. This is a true sensory experience.
Once again, thank you, Tor, for these weekly gifts, some of which give far more than they intended but are always thoughts provoking.
August 29, 2022
An intense first person account of hurt, and spiritual rebirth.Fantastically written, and so darkly lyrical & poetically disturbing. Sunny Moraine is a wonderful writer of macabre tales.
June 9, 2017
This is a wonderful story. So many different ways to interpret it, so beautiful and haunting. Really good.
April 14, 2018
Her friends haven't spoken to her in a long time and she has no idea when she's taken her last dosage of medication. Someone is watching from the shadows and the woman is being haunted by birds. There's only one way she can deal with them...
Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color is a beautiful heartbreaking story. I was impressed by Sunny Moraine's skilled way with words. The story reads like poetry and I was blown away by their writing talent. The woman in the story deals with creepy magical creatures and shadows that are watching her. She's in a spiral that can only go one way. Picturing what she's going through gave me a lump in my throat and I literally felt it in my stomach. Sunny Moraine knows how to make their readers feel, there's a certain inevitability to this story that moved me to tears. Their writing has a rawness and spine-chilling emotion that will stay with me for a very long time.
Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color is a brilliant short story. It's thought-provoking, alarming, vivid and mysterious. I loved that there's so much room for interpretation. The combination and overlap of fantasy and mental illness is tragic and profound. I admire authors who don't need many words to tell an intelligent multilayered story. I loved how Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color keeps evolving in my mind. I've read it more than once and each time something new pops out and makes me ponder. This story is incredibly special and I will read it over and over again.
Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color is a beautiful heartbreaking story. I was impressed by Sunny Moraine's skilled way with words. The story reads like poetry and I was blown away by their writing talent. The woman in the story deals with creepy magical creatures and shadows that are watching her. She's in a spiral that can only go one way. Picturing what she's going through gave me a lump in my throat and I literally felt it in my stomach. Sunny Moraine knows how to make their readers feel, there's a certain inevitability to this story that moved me to tears. Their writing has a rawness and spine-chilling emotion that will stay with me for a very long time.
Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color is a brilliant short story. It's thought-provoking, alarming, vivid and mysterious. I loved that there's so much room for interpretation. The combination and overlap of fantasy and mental illness is tragic and profound. I admire authors who don't need many words to tell an intelligent multilayered story. I loved how Shape Without Form, Shade Without Color keeps evolving in my mind. I've read it more than once and each time something new pops out and makes me ponder. This story is incredibly special and I will read it over and over again.
Read
June 19, 2017I got sucked in by the cover art and the Tor label. Arguably SF/H, arguably litfic. There were cool elements, and some of the MI stuff seemed really familiar, but it also... meh, I wanted to bring out a red pen and engage in massive story edits through most of it.
August 11, 2017
There is some haunting imagery at the heart of the story Shape Without Form, Shade Without Colour, but not quite enough substance to really make the piece work. Perhaps if it was reworked as a poem, it would find a way to really shine. Or was made a bit longer with more of a plot and characters.
June 22, 2017
I honestly didn't understand but it gave me a bad feeling about its portrayal of mental illness.
July 7, 2017
Evocative in a way I find very appealing. Makes me want to read something longer from the author.
August 30, 2020
What?????
January 3, 2025
A pretty good little psychological thriller about losing your mind. Or is it an allegory?
June 1, 2017
Beautifully told, but so richly overflowing with symbolism that I'm left wondering, but what did it all mean?
July 3, 2017
The title tells you what to expect, but not exactly what's in the story.
It is literary, poetic, and it hits some beautiful notes that are just a bit dissonant and off-key. If I read it right, then this is by design.
It does involve mental illness, and I see in other reviews that people fear Sunny is painting an indelicate picture of it. I didn't read it that way. The narrator's world is one where things just almost make sense, but can't be trusted. She is lucid, but just so... and tormented by a nightmare of her own design. I would argue that if a faithful depiction can be painted with words, this story strikes some of the right chords, and seems to try very hard to do it justice.
It might not work for everyone, and it's not an easy, carefree read, but I very much enjoyed it.
"This is the sound of liminality, and very few of us are comfortable with the liminal."
It is literary, poetic, and it hits some beautiful notes that are just a bit dissonant and off-key. If I read it right, then this is by design.
It does involve mental illness, and I see in other reviews that people fear Sunny is painting an indelicate picture of it. I didn't read it that way. The narrator's world is one where things just almost make sense, but can't be trusted. She is lucid, but just so... and tormented by a nightmare of her own design. I would argue that if a faithful depiction can be painted with words, this story strikes some of the right chords, and seems to try very hard to do it justice.
It might not work for everyone, and it's not an easy, carefree read, but I very much enjoyed it.
"This is the sound of liminality, and very few of us are comfortable with the liminal."
October 6, 2017
Actual rating: 2.5 stars.
September 1, 2017
I probably should have not read this story when I was tired and half asleep, because I had serious trouble following it, and I am still not sure how to interpret it. Another goodread reader (Tadiana Night Owl) interprets it as the slow fall of the writer into mental illness. As readers we are left wondering if the described events are hallucinations or real supernatural events.
Tadiana summarizes the story as follows: "A young wife, recently moved with her husband into a new home, struggles with visions of flocks of starlings that flutter all around her and whisper with a thousand shadowy voices. She develops a mistrust of her apparently loving and concerned husband. [...] She feels totally unable to communicate with him or her friend about her troubled mind and heart. Meanwhile, a terrifying voice speaks to her of fearfully running through a cornfield, of monsters waiting for her and calling to her in the dark, and of debts owed."
Tadiana summarizes the story as follows: "A young wife, recently moved with her husband into a new home, struggles with visions of flocks of starlings that flutter all around her and whisper with a thousand shadowy voices. She develops a mistrust of her apparently loving and concerned husband. [...] She feels totally unable to communicate with him or her friend about her troubled mind and heart. Meanwhile, a terrifying voice speaks to her of fearfully running through a cornfield, of monsters waiting for her and calling to her in the dark, and of debts owed."
September 1, 2020
This story speaks to me. I'm finding it hard to explain why. Kind of like the narration its self. It feels very personal. Like the author is describing something that is very specific to their experience. And yet. And yet I can see allegories to all kinds of situations.
I can see shades of how childhood trauma can lead to repression, alienation and lasting effects. Or maybe the loss of a child/ pregnancy and subsequent depression and recriminations. Or maybe it's just recognizing the darkness that enters your mind with chronic insomnia and anxiety.
Mental illness sure. But in IMHO that's a simplistic read. More of an #ownvoices story. I don't think this story is meant to explain or illuminate any thing for you.
I can see shades of how childhood trauma can lead to repression, alienation and lasting effects. Or maybe the loss of a child/ pregnancy and subsequent depression and recriminations. Or maybe it's just recognizing the darkness that enters your mind with chronic insomnia and anxiety.
Mental illness sure. But in IMHO that's a simplistic read. More of an #ownvoices story. I don't think this story is meant to explain or illuminate any thing for you.
August 25, 2017
Interesting.
September 28, 2018
See oli õõvatekitav, aga samas ebamäärane.
February 15, 2020
Dark and disturbing, but well written.
Read
July 4, 2017A horror story that's much more horror than story, practically a prose poem, founded in the twilight susurrus of birds in the trees - which I've always found a comforting sound, but oh, now I can certainly see how strongly some might feel otherwise. This is the second piece I've read by Sunny Moraine, the other also being very short and pretty much a fable. They're the sort of writer where I can't entirely see how their style would work for anything longer, though I'd be happy to be proved wrong, and in any case with the option of the Internet, turning out intricately worked miniatures such as these is a lot more viable than it might once have been. Which is to say, this haunting half-awake dream of a thing is available for free at Tor.com.
December 20, 2017
[One of the best horror short fiction, no doubt from me]...
1.The world is wrong when you’re this small. Everything is oversized and strangely shaped. The corn towers and breaks up a sky thrown into sunset reds and golds. You both love and dread the fall. Later you’ll understand this as the adoration of a mad god and you’ll understand how one could fall into that kind of worship. You’ll take it with you and make use of it, and you’ll believe—in the hubris of age—that you can leave the rest of it behind. You can tell these stories and you won’t have to be afraid of why...
2.There were always shapes in the dark, little girl. You forgot your own monsters but they’re still waiting. Listen: They’re calling. They’re lonely. You ran, and running was love, the rhythm of your feet and heart; your running was a song. We showed ourselves to you. It was all we ever wanted. Your heart in your throat but no further; we didn’t want to take it from you. We come back to you now, with the cold and the dark. Won’t you come to us?...
3. The window is slightly open, admitting the cold. I hear the starlings whisper. Don’t you love us? Don’t you want us anymore?...
Whoa! Now where's that come from. I am reviewing this story in the time while I am tolerating or say dealing with my inner frustration. If it's the reason that I liked very much? No, absolutely no. I really enjoyed it, no question. Well maybe it was short as of course it is indeed a short story but wish if I could read more...
The story plot was very good, it was one of the prime fact that captures my attention. In the moment while I was reading I do want to admit that as if I really can feel my fear. As if I am that same figure or say the character who's facing with those ghostly sterling bird. It feels like that me too was in that creepy environment feeling the fear of myself...
As I already mentioned that It was all about that bird Sterling. They come in to the corn field. Sterling possessed that girl who was fighting to get rid of them. While I started it and reading I just couldn't help but kept going. To me I find it very interesting to read. I don't want to write more details about it but yes for a short horror fiction I would like to recommend it to them who loves to read horror...
So from me 5 out of 5...
Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews