Full disclosure: I met Alex Penland at a conference of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association. She talked about her forthcoming novella, Full disclosure: I met Alex Penland at a conference of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association. She talked about her forthcoming novella, and I offered to read it, and if I liked it, to give it a blurb. (Blurbs are short promotional descriptions of a work, usually a paragraph on the back or on the website.)
Alex had done her research into ancient Greece and the people who lived there, and I hoped she could bring the possibilities of that historic time to life.
I read ‘Andrion’ and I think she did just that. In particular, I was impressed by the emotion packed into the story, echoing the intensity of ancient Greek drama, where characters embody their emotions and express them with raw energy.
My blurb: Ancient Greece had an open secret: its vaunted ideas of democracy and freedom never applied to women. Alex Penland captures the sights, sounds, beauty, and jostling politics of Ancient Athens. A love for that city — and other kinds of love — emboldens a young woman to do what no woman has done before: rebel, using the latest technology of Athens in this imaginative steampunk tale. Righteous anger shines in this story like a beacon. ...more
I like to read books I could never have written, and this century-old novel, in addition to being fundamental to modern fantasy, is known for its beauI like to read books I could never have written, and this century-old novel, in addition to being fundamental to modern fantasy, is known for its beautiful stylistic exuberance. Besides, when I was in Ireland in 2019, I toured Dunsany Castle and met the current Lady Dunsany (alas, she died in 2020 of covid).
At its heart, the novel is a simple story — boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl back — but it takes place in a magical world, part of it like our own, and part of it in a domain of “twilight and dew, surrounded by the mauve and ruddy glow of the massed flowers of Elfland, beside which our sunsets pale and our orchids droop, and beyond them lay like night the magical wood. And jutting from that wood, with glittering portals all open wide to the lawns, with windows more blue than our sky on Summer’s nights; as though built of starlight; shone that palace that may be only told of in song.”
The simple story meanders to include unicorns, a witch, elves, trolls, and all manner of fantastic countryside. Elfland stands becalmed in time, wondrously strange and static in beauty, enchanting — yet not entirely enticing. Wise people do not even look in its direction. When the King of Elfland’s daughter marries the Lord of the Vale of Erl, the two parts of this wondrous world clash, and despite best intentions, they cannot coexist.
Hearts break, and sorrow has no place in Elfland. When that is finally understood, the poetic tale reaches a luminous ending. In both its style and wild imagination, the novel stands as a landmark in fantasy literature. It’s not my usual fare, but like a rich, delicate dessert, it was a treat....more
Full disclosure: The author sent me this novella to see if I’d give a blurb for its cover — with the understanding that I’d only say what I really thoFull disclosure: The author sent me this novella to see if I’d give a blurb for its cover — with the understanding that I’d only say what I really thought, and if I didn’t like it, she’d get nothing from me. But I couldn’t put it down. Here’s my blurb:
A story of hope, betrayal, and love with the intensity only science fiction can deliver.
I want to explain what I mean by “only science fiction can deliver.” Only science fiction can deal with enormous questions such as the survival of humankind, which this story is about, but that’s not the core of the story. At its core are a father and son. By an accident of science fictional fate, the father is pretty average and the son is a super-genius. They struggle to respect and love each other despite the divide between them. At times they can barely speak simply because they aren’t on the same level and have little in common, which they understand, yet they never give up trying to connect with each other.
Add to that, the Earth is in deep ecological trouble, and the son might be able to save humanity — another big strain on their relationship. In the face of adversity and betrayal, they are there for each other, aware of how little they can truly share besides mutual honest respect.
Arrayed against a life-and-death science fiction struggle, this is a story about abiding hope and love. ...more
The strength of this novel, which won the 1963 Hugo Award, is in its main character, Enoch Wallace. He observes carefully and thinks deeply, and the nThe strength of this novel, which won the 1963 Hugo Award, is in its main character, Enoch Wallace. He observes carefully and thinks deeply, and the novel is often quiet and reflective.
One hundred years ago, his home in the secluded countryside of Wisconsin next to the Mississippi River became a secret way station for aliens traveling through the galaxy. He has stopped aging. What does his strange new life mean?
“For he remembered now how he had been sitting on the steps thinking how he was alone and about a new beginning, knowing that he could not escape a new beginning, and that he must start from scratch and build his life anew. And here, suddenly, was that new beginning — more wondrous and fearsome than anything he could have dreamed in an insane moment.”
For most of the novel, it’s a simple story without much action, but slowly, small mistakes and the dangers of Earth’s 1960s and atomic war brinksmanship build into existential peril.
“Somewhere, he thought, on the long backtrack of history, the human race had accepted an insanity for a principle and had persisted in it until today that insanity-turned-principle stood ready to wipe out, if not the race itself, at least all of those things, both material and immaterial, that had been fashioned as symbols of humanity through many hard-won centuries.”
The point of the novel is what this means to Enoch, to humanity, and beyond. “And that was the secret of the universe, Enoch told himself — a thing that went on caring.” ...more
Is anyone out there? Of course we want the answer to be yes. We want to believe we’re not alone in the universe. Jamie Green has hopes, too, and she’sIs anyone out there? Of course we want the answer to be yes. We want to believe we’re not alone in the universe. Jamie Green has hopes, too, and she’s a smart and experienced science writer, so she knows how to look for answers.
She takes us on an investigation. She talks to a lot of scientists, discusses a lot of science fiction, and answers a lot of questions. Would an alien have an anus? (Maybe, maybe not.) How weird could alien life be? The question, she says, “challenges us to imagine something beyond what we know” — but what exactly do we know? What would alien life be like? How about intelligent alien life? Would it even be understandable? Why or why not? What are some examples from science fiction?
If you’re interested in science and science fiction, you’ll learn something from this book and have a good time learning it. If you write science fiction, you’ll come away with good ideas — maybe even inspiration. ...more
“There are always islands like Prague, and they are always in peril.… You are sworn to protect such places.…”
Oh hell. I had sworn exactly tAn excerpt:
“There are always islands like Prague, and they are always in peril.… You are sworn to protect such places.…”
Oh hell. I had sworn exactly that. This is what comes from joining too many secret societies, you mix up the specifics.
*** The story opens when sorcery in England is used to defeat the Spanish Armada in 1588, leaving Christopher Marlowe, a magically gifted playwright, shattered emotionally. Marlow narrates the story, and he is a delight: charming, witty, sophisticated, and entirely aware of how dire his situation is. The novel is more backstabbing than swashbuckling, and more treachery than sorcery — for a good reason.
As history tells us, Europe is slowly sliding toward the unspeakable horror that will be the Thirty Year’s War. The characters in the novel know something is coming that will lay waste to much of Europe. Can it be stopped? Marlowe gets himself into an increasingly complex web of secrets, deadly politics, and magic — magic too powerful and awful to attempt again.
Author Angeli Primlani spent time in Prague and in the theater, which lends an almost tactile depth to the writing. She also knows her history and creates a fast-moving novel about desperate people trying to save the world from those who have the means to ruin it even without magic....more
The short stories in this collection are intense, meticulous, and lead their characters to tests of compassion and courage. The writing is also concisThe short stories in this collection are intense, meticulous, and lead their characters to tests of compassion and courage. The writing is also concise, so summarizing a story is hard without spoilers. In “Shadow,” a sister’s survivor faces her past. “Missing Mary” tells a whole life in just a few pages. “A Night-Blooming Flower” is disturbing in a good way. “Resurface” reveals a secret.
I met Nikki Kallio at a writers retreat, and she gave me an advance copy of the book to review. The energy she radiates in person finds a way into this collection. What might seem like a familiar setting or genre becomes startling in her hands: speculative fiction, magical realism, supernatural ambiguity, and poetic prose.
These stories will pull you along with their relentless pursuit of human essence. ...more
The author describes this as “a lesbian stoner buddy comedy with fairies about Brexit.” It’s not really about Brexit, although I can see the inspiratiThe author describes this as “a lesbian stoner buddy comedy with fairies about Brexit.” It’s not really about Brexit, although I can see the inspiration. Genuinely funny, light-hearted, and light-weight, in a good way. Expect shenanigans, not a treatise on governance....more
For me, the strength of an anthology is in its variety as well as its quality. These eighteen stories cover a variety of countries, cultures, and natiFor me, the strength of an anthology is in its variety as well as its quality. These eighteen stories cover a variety of countries, cultures, and nations; a variety of story-telling styles; and a variety of speculative fiction — which includes science fiction, fantasy, and horror. The editor, Cristina Jurado, and I have worked together on other projects, and I can see her hand in the choices. A fair number of stories show her fine sensibility toward horror, not with blood and gore, but with dread.
I’ve checked some other reviews, and different readers have loved a story that others found meh, and I think the variety of reactions means that there’s something in the anthology for a wide variety of readers. Here are my favorites, but you may have different choices:
“A Series of Steaks” by Vina Jie-Min Prasad: The story has fun with technology, and it could only have taken place in China.
“Violation of the Truenet Security Act” by Taiyo Fujii: I admit I didn’t follow all of the technicalities of a computer programmer falling afoul of a dystopian internet failure, but I understood the plot. The story could only have happened in Japan.
“Ambiguity Machines: An Examination” by Vandana Singh: Three accounts of unnerving encounters with impossible machines. It ends with a haunting twist.
“An Evolutionary Myth” by Bo-Young Kim: This tale about something like a shape-shifter is steeped in Korean culture.
“You Will See the Moon Rise” by Israel Alonso: A war turns out to be something else. As an aside, I knew the translator, Steve Redwood, and delighted in his anarchic humor; he died in 2022.
“The Seventh” by Eliza Victoria: Truly creepy horror.
“Screamers” by Tochi Onyebuchi: A series of murders leads to a transcendent conclusion.
“Ugo” by Giovanni de Feo: An odd romance takes a philosophical turn that subverts genre expectations.
Again, you might enjoy different stories, but they’re all worth reading. More than ever, speculative fiction plays out on a world-wide stage, and language barriers and national borders give us only glimpses. Here’s a chance to take a closer look. ...more
“Plants are nothing like us, which is part of the reason why I like them so much.”
That quote comes from Chapter 5, The Fight for Survival, in which au“Plants are nothing like us, which is part of the reason why I like them so much.”
That quote comes from Chapter 5, The Fight for Survival, in which author Matt Candeias describes how plants try to fight each other by growing taller than other plants or poisoning the ground to keep away competitor plants. They try to fight off herbivores (like us) by growing thorns, drenching themselves with toxins, or using chemicals to convince caterpillars to eat each other rather than the plant they’re on (yikes!).
Plants are wonderful and creepy. Most of the book describes what they do with lively details, but the opening two chapters tell how the author became interested in plants, and the last chapter describes the problems plants face, which are uncontrolled habitat degradation and destruction. If nature is like an analog clock, plants are the gears that make it work, and we are wantonly smashing the gears. Candeias offers some mitigating suggestions and, in the meantime, encourages us to enjoy the plants in our neighborhoods. He’s trying not to be gloom and doom, but I’m not sure that’s enough to make our future livable.
The book is educational and, except for the last chapter, fun to read. Color illustrations would have improved it, though, or even better quality black-and-white photos.
You might also enjoy the author’s ongoing podcasts at In Defense of Plants, https...more
This graphic novel won the Pulitzer Prize, so obviously it’s good, but I think the over-arching story it tells might be underappreciated. Yes, of courThis graphic novel won the Pulitzer Prize, so obviously it’s good, but I think the over-arching story it tells might be underappreciated. Yes, of course, it recounts how Jews were murdered in Nazi Germany, and how the author’s father managed — just barely — to survive. What he had to do to survive and the lessons it taught him about life turned him into a damaged, difficult man. He and his son could not get along. The pain of the Holocaust lingered long after WWII was over. ...more
I’ve been writing professionally for fifty years, so you might think I know how to write a sentence. Yes I do, obviously, but there’s always more to pI’ve been writing professionally for fifty years, so you might think I know how to write a sentence. Yes I do, obviously, but there’s always more to perfect. This book is to writing like practicing scales is to playing the violin.
Stanley Fish starts by explaining how a good sentence depends not on its content but its structure, and how experimenting with structures is a way to explore unexpected meanings within the content of the sentence: form follows function. Then he focuses on a few specific structures.
The subordinating sentence, which is formal in style, places ideas in relationship to each other through causality, time, importance, or some other logical construct, with the aim of creating a complete idea that requires and conveys the assurance of forethought by the author. An additive sentence is no less thoughtful or artistic, but it moves in a straight line and connects ideas one after another, feels spontaneous, and can be especially good for storytelling. A satiric sentence deliberately leads to a twist at the end: We may wish to consider the reasons why Elon Musk’s recent remarks after his purchase of Twitter have filled many of us with doubts, but I believe none of us disputes his claim that he is now the “Top Twit.”
First sentences in novels must hold out a promise, and they can do that, Fish shows, by choosing one of many available sentence structures and strategies. Last sentences need to say “the end” in a way that resonates; again, Fish presents many possibilities for doing that. As a novelist, I found this especially useful.
Fish does, at times, run off the rails because even the best sentence can be over-analyzed. This is a short book, though, so even when he tries too hard, he doesn’t go on forever. ...more
I was covering AIDS as a newspaper reporter in Milwaukee during the 1980s, and this book brought back searing memories. Part of the novel takes place I was covering AIDS as a newspaper reporter in Milwaukee during the 1980s, and this book brought back searing memories. Part of the novel takes place in the gay community in Chicago in 1985, part of it in 2015 among survivors. I remember the anger, fear, and loss of so many people in the early years of AIDS. I remember how the disease was used to attack and condemn gay men.
Rebecca Makkai captures those emotions and the dreadful toll. While many of the details, like the people, are fictional, some of them are real. One bit of reality: the novel mentions “the Unitarian place … a gay-friendly church right off Broadway, and thus — recently — Funeral Central.” This is my church now, Second Unitarian Church, and we’re still proud of the support we could provide when it was needed.
The novel also resonates with our own very recent times when disease, too, became political, and as a result covid-19 was a worse disaster than it needed to be.
Obviously, this is an outstanding novel, a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize — and for me it’s also a personal book, reminding me of why a little corner of my heart is still angry and broken. The novel ends with hope, though: “If we could just be on earth at the same place and time with everyone we loved, if we could be born together and die together, it would be so simple. And it’s not. But listen: You two are on the planet at the same time. You’re in the same place now. That’s a miracle.”
Love is love, even when everyone and everything tries to destroy it. ...more
I hurried to buy and read this book on the recommendation of a well-known translator (well-known to other translators, that is), and I loved it. I’ve I hurried to buy and read this book on the recommendation of a well-known translator (well-known to other translators, that is), and I loved it. I’ve nominated it for a Nebula Award.
As the author carefully points out in a note at the beginning of the novel, this is a fantasy based on historical fact. If you’ve heard of the Opium Wars between China and Great Britain, then you know that it was a dismal time in history for the people subjected to imperialism. Meanwhile, back in Britain, the first industrial revolution meant exploitation, deepening poverty, and misery for the working class.
The author is also a translator, like me, and the book’s magic system turns translation into a weapon for imperialism and economic abuse — an unsettling idea, carefully constructed.
Babel follows the life of novice translator Robin Swift (we never learn his real name) as he discovers his place as a cog in the machine that turns his very thoughts into weapons and will cost him his dignity, what little love he is able to find, and the lives of the people he loves until all that remains is the necessity of violence. ...more
A man is exploring a huge building, which he calls the House, but something seems odd about both him and the House. That’s how the novel opens, and soA man is exploring a huge building, which he calls the House, but something seems odd about both him and the House. That’s how the novel opens, and soon, things become clearly wrong. The man, Piranesi, doesn’t — and in a strange way can’t — understand his own situation, which is ghastly. Yet, overall, he’s very happy, good, and generous.
The novel leads the reader on a series of discoveries. What is happening, and why does Piranesi believe such strange and obviously false things? By the end it makes sense, but with a twist. This is the novel’s final sentence: “The Beauty of the House is immeasurable; its Kindness infinite.” We learn that the things Piranesi believed that seemed false may in fact be true.
I might not be making sense because I don’t want to give anything away. This novel won some big awards, and it deserves them. It was a delight to read. ...more
Full disclosure: Pat Bowne and I used to belong to the same critique group, and I’ve been a fan of her writing for a long time.
She usually sets her stFull disclosure: Pat Bowne and I used to belong to the same critique group, and I’ve been a fan of her writing for a long time.
She usually sets her stories and novels in the fantasy world of the Royal Academy at Osyth, a university that teaches magic. This book takes place before the academy is established, at a different magic university. A girl from a distant, isolated village comes there to learn how to master her magical skills and to find her brother’s lost child. Her particular magic involves water, but when the river runs disastrously dry, she didn’t make it happen. She’s only a first-year student — how could she have the skills to do that! But if not her, then who?
Demons, wizards, mermaids, folk tales, and irascible kings fill this story. Even better, it’s filled with plot twists. Bowne has been writing in this universe long enough to weave a lush brocade of people, places, and motivations. As an academic herself, she knows how difficult college life can be for students and professors. Throw in some angry goblins, and the stakes rise to potentially fatal.
You don’t need to have read previous Osyth novels to understand this one, by the way. As a prequel to the series, it stands on its own.
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