Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Microreview [video game]: Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night by 505 Games (Publisher)

Shattered Glass

Koji Igarashi was responsible for a handful of my favorite games, namely Castlevania: Symphony of the Night. When he left Konami and landed on Kickstarter with Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night and a promise to deliver an Igavania game like he’s given us before, I was 100% on board. Symphony is over 20 years old now, but it’s a timeless classic, and his other Castlevania games could be spoken of in the same breath. Could Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night, a spiritual sequel to a beloved classic as we’ve seen crowdsourcing attempt to replicate countless times before, live up to those sorts of expectations? The answer is no but it’s complicated.

Crystal shards, demons, a person wronged, and a labyrinthine castle; those are the ingredients of Bloodstained’s story, which is wholly ignorable for 99% of players. It’s just not particularly interesting nor is it the focus. This is an action platformer in the same exact vein as previous Iga-produced Castlevania games, but more namely, the Aria of Sorrow and Dawn of Sorrow games. Both of them have a mechanic that’s copied almost wholesale into Bloodstained, which is the collection of enemy abilities and enhancements. Killing enemies will sometimes result in a “shard” ability. Sometimes this means you will be able to replicate an enemy’s attack, like throwing a bone. Sometimes it’s a stat boost. Sometimes it’s a little familiar that floats along with you and helps in some way. Regardless, beyond the collection of weapons, armors, consumable potions, food, and crafting ingredients, this shard collecting gives the game a “gotta catch them all” feel as you repetitively slaughter these demons to collect their goodies.

Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night delivers on the promise of a Koji Igarashi style Castlevania game with an intellectual property that isn’t owned by Konami. You could do a few name swaps and this game would feel right in line with that series. The game itself feels like those prior games. The platforming and action are tweaked just right to rarely feel loose or cheap. It’s got responsive platforming, lots of enemies to kill, and lots of ways to kill them. It’s got the soundtrack that’s fairly close to those games and the gothic feeling and look. It’s 3D on a 2D plane done with Unreal engine, which sort of gives everything a shiny look. It comes off as a bit cheap when compared to how rich and expensive the fully 2D Symphony of the Night looked, but it’s far from bad. Stripped to its bones, the core gameplay is fun. Platforming, tons of weird enemies, and a lot of nooks and crannies to explore are what make these games enjoyable.

There’s a whole raft of non-gameplay bits that don’t have too much effect on that core loop. There are three side quest paths that simply involve getting particular items or killing particular enemies for item rewards. There are two crafting systems; one for items, another for food. Enemies drop ingredients for both systems, and they’re both of dubious return. I found that the weapons and items dropped by enemies alone were mostly sufficient to make numbers go up and get through the game. The food grants one-time permanent stat boosts, and some repeatable boosts by eating it, but I was collecting ingredients solely to complete the food side quest. Some of those ingredients are painfully rare. There’s also a ton of appearance customization options that you can only get by finding style books and delivering them to an in-game barber. I made a few changes when I found the barber the first time, didn’t make note of where he was, and never found him again. I spent the rest of the game running around with a pocket full of unused style books. This stuff exists, and it’s almost entirely optional.

Where the game stumbles is in this particular labyrinth. It just doesn’t seem to flow as neatly as previous games. As usual, progress is gated by a collection of core gameplay upgrades (like a double jump), but there were times where the way forward wasn’t clear and wasn’t gated by some kind of obvious upgrade. There was one particular obstacle that halted all progress and it was gated by finding and killing the right demon, but there were some extra steps in between. In other places, progress is simply slowed by throwing a ton of high damage, high hit point enemies in a long path to the next save point. The last third of the game really suffers from this.

The game also has the Stink of Crowdsourcing, which is stuff in the game that otherwise wouldn’t be there if it weren’t crowdsourced. The most obvious of these are paintings with the faces of Kickstarter backers, but the Kickstarter campaign sold a lot more:
  • Backer gets a special message in the credits
  • Backer face as a painting in the castle
  • Backer designed weapon
  • Backer pet as enemy in the game
  • Backer designed enemy
  • Backer designed hidden room
Going over this list, the least noticeable were the backer designed weapons. This game is so jammed full of weapons that I couldn’t tell if I ever used one that a backer designed; they simply blend in. Backer designed enemies also didn’t really pop out at me. But the backer faces as paintings were super obvious, and the pets as enemies were rather out-of-place. Is someone really that excited to know that I killed a digital representation of their dog a dozen times so I could get its shard? The backer designed hidden rooms were almost always exceptionally tough, optional boss fights. They weren’t necessarily bad, but often out of place with their location, and gated by finding a key somewhere in the rest of the castle. This key gating is itself out of place with the style of these games; I can only think of one particular key needed in all of Symphony of the Night. I was feeling like the night janitor with my ring full of keys by the end of Bloodstained.

I put down Bloodstained for a few days in the last third of the game because I got frustrated by the labyrinth. I couldn’t tell whether I was moving in the right direction, and this style of game still uses hard save points. Dying during a long exploration run means losing all that progress, and it sucks. I had very mixed feelings about the game at this time: was it really any better than those previous Igavania’s? Is this game fun and I am bad at it or does this particular labyrinth suck? I went back and pushed through to the end, and I’m glad I did. The game ends in spectacular, classic Castlevania fashion. But it’s not quite enough to pull it up to greatness.

What I hope happens is that the team of studios that made Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night can take this momentum to make a better sequel, absent of the muddy last third and silly crowdsourced additions, and Bloodstained 2 is a great game. Today, I’m glad I’ve got one Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night but it’s a flawed experience. It’s a good game that looks cheaper than it is, has a pile of bolted-on distractions, and really loses itself in the last third.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 8/10

Bonuses: +1 if you wanted That Game, you (mostly) got That Game.

Penalties: -2 weak final third, which is an awful lot of game to be not-great

Nerd Coefficient: 7/10 (an enjoyable experience, but not without its flaws)


POSTED BY: brian, sci-fi/fantasy/video game dork and contributor since 2014

Reference: ArtPlay (developer). Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night [505 Games, 2019]

Monday, July 22, 2019

Microreview [Book]: Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Excellent characters and well-crafted adventure make this historical fantasy take on Mayan mythology a highlight of the year so far.

Cover illustration by Daniel Pelavin
Silvia Moreno-Garcia is an author I'd follow into almost any genre, and that's a good thing given how varied her career has been so far. From the 80's nostalgia-heavy Signal to Noise to the romance fantasy of manners The Beautiful Ones, to the criminally underrated sci-fi novella Prime Meridian and even the editorial work she does on The Dark Magazine (a recent addition to my short fiction rounds), Garcia brings talent, nuance and a particular eye for female characters challenging overwhelming imbalances in power over the forces against them. Now, in Gods of Jade and Shadow, Moreno-Garcia brings her talents to a historic fantasy where 1920's Jazz Age Mexico meets the gods and monsters of Mayan mythology, taking protagonist Casiopea Tun on an unexpected but long-dreamed-of adventure with a deposed Lord of the Underworld.

Casiopea's character is rooted in a satisfying set of tropes, and the novel wastes no time in establishing her position in its opening paragraph: "Casiopea Tun, named after a constellation, was born under the most rotten star imaginable in the firmament". Living in her Grandfather's house after the untimely death of her father, who her mother had previously eloped with, Casiopea suffers all the indignities of a poor relation, scorned by her extended family and community for the circumstances of her birth and for her mixed heritage, and particularly suffers at the hands of her cousin Martín, himself jealous and insecure about his position in the family as a toxic patriarch in training. Despite the misery of her situation, it's clear from the start that Casiopea is something special, and she's armed with both a heavily practical streak and a core of stubborn strength and self-belief which prevents her from being totally ground down by circumstance. While the character isn't inclined to romance, it's clear to the reader that the small, conservative town of Uukumil on the Yucutan Peninsula is unlikely to hold her for long.

Just as Gods of Jade and Shadow doesn't waste any time in setting up Casiopea's circumstances, it also doesn't waste any time in bringing her out of them (two chapters, to be precise). In a fit of frustration after an unjust punishment, Casiopea opens a mysterious forbidden chest in her Grandfather's room, and out comes Hun-Kamé, formerly Lord of Xibalba, who was deposed and imprisoned by his brother Vucub-Kamé decades before. As a condition of his awakening, Hun-Kamé leaves a shard of bone in Casiopea's finger, and it quickly becomes clear that the only way the two can untangle themselves from this new connection is for Casiopea to help the God to regain his former power - held in body parts which his brother has relieved him of and left with various other supernatural creatures - and challenge his brother for control of the underworld. Despite her concerns about eloping with a God without any long-term plan, Casiopea agrees, and the two set off on their adventures; once Vucub-Kamé realises that his brother has escaped, he descends on the family and sends Martín on his own, more reluctant, quest to stop them.

The result is an adventure that reads at times like a more adult-focused version of a Frances Hardinge novel, allowing its practical heroine to take in and respond to the changing, complex and sometimes hostile world around her, both in its natural and supernatural forms; and at other times like a lush mythological retelling, with Casiopea, Martin and the God siblings providing a sense of character-driven continuity between the historic and supernatural elements of the plot. The fact that it's a Mayan mythology being explored, rather than any of the Western European mythologies (or Egypt) which have had already had plenty of SFF expended about them (including a significant amount which transplants European mythologies directly into North America with no recognition of the continent's native belief systems), is treated matter-of-factly but accessibly, and there's plenty of recognition within the worldbuilding about the situation of Mayan Gods in an early 20th century Mexico now primarily caught between Catholic religious conservatism and a more agnostic state of modernity. Moreno-Garcia uses a writing style which morphs sparingly but effectively out of limited third-person perspective to provide descriptive flavour or character insights, giving Gods of Jade and Shadow a timeless-feeling narrative voice which is well suited to the context. As Casiopea and Hun-Kamé progress from Uukumil to Mérida (the capital of Yucutan, and formerly the locus of Casiopea's dreams of escape) and on to Mexico City, El Paso and the realm of Xibalba itself, so too do Casiopea's hopes and fears, both for the short term quest, and for her future in general, become increasingly complicated by the experiences on the quest, and particularly her feelings for Hun-Kamé, who is now becoming increasingly human through their connection, and equally taken by her charms in turn.

While this isn't a romance in the strict genre sense, the romantic elements of Gods of Jade and Shadow are prominent and key to the character development, and the speed of the connection between Casiopea and Hun-Kamé is satisfying to watch unfold, while also adding an interesting complication to their quest - Casiopea will die if she can't return Hun-Kamé to his normal state and remove the shard of his bone from her finger, but the human side of him which allows him to love her won't survive the transformation. The connection between the two characters, and the no-win situation they find themselves in, also allows Casiopea to explore her own powerlessness in the face of the various demons, ghosts and other entities they come across, and in the direction of their quest in general: while Hun-Kamé relies on her humanity to perform certain types of ritual and, as their connection deepens, to contribute more godlike powers of her own, it's clear that Casiopea has mixed feelings about how her escape from Uukumil has come about, her lack of agency on a quest that's entirely driven by Hun-Kamé's needs, and the lack of options for her post-quest future in a world that's still driven by patriarchal expectations about the roles of women. In the end, the fact that Gods of Jade and Shadow doesn't take a romance-genre driven approach to Casiopea's happiness means that there's more freedom to explore these themes without assuming that her connection to Hun-Kamé can provide a solution, and Gods of Jade and Shadow's final act is all the stronger for it, turning into a full-on mythological quest before offering the characters a satisfying resolution which remains true to the themes of humanity and freedom that permeate the text.

Moreno-Garcia didn't need any further cementing into my "auto-buy" list, but if I needed further convincing about her talents, this novel is it. Read it for the satisfying take on coming-of-age tropes in a fast-paced historical adventure; read it for a sweet take on the connection  between a Lord of the Underworld and a stubborn young woman that avoids most of the squickiness that so often comes of that kind of thing; read it because we desperately need more diverse mythologies in mainstream SFF and this delivers; read it because the cover is amazing and people on the train will look at it and be intrigued and probably think you are a very interesting and cultured person for reading such an attractive book. Throw it on the ever-mounting pile of evidence that we are living through an outstanding time for SFF writing. Yet again, this is the real deal, and I can't wait to see what Moreno-Garcia comes out with next.

The Math

Baseline Score: 8/10

Bonuses: +1 Brilliant adventure which blends mythological storytelling with nuance that does justice to its characters

Nerd Coefficient: 9/10

POSTED BY: Adri is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke. Find her on Twitter at @adrijjy.

Reference:  Moreno-Garcia, Silvia. Gods of Jade and Shadow [Jo Fletcher Books, 2019].

Friday, July 19, 2019

Microreview [book]: The Outside by Ada Hoffmann

Ada Hoffmann’s The Outside is an extremely successful fusion of Space Opera and Lovecraftian motifs to tell the story of AI Gods, Angels, and an autistic engineer co-opted into an interdimensional conflict.

Thousands of years in the future, humanity has spread out to the stars and has a presence on numerous planets. However, in getting to an interstellar civilization, humanity managed to accidentally create a set of superhuman AIs who, like the old short short story stinger (“Now there is a God!”) decided to transcendentally become Gods. With a strong hand on human culture by means of their augmented humans known as angels, these Gods watch over humanity, especially when they meddle with extra dimensional forces that threaten to undo reality.

Enter Yasira Shien, whose new reactor is unwittingly set to do just that. Yasira will find that the price of doing this is not death, but rather being tasked to find someone who is working with these forces deliberately--her former mentor. Her former mentor is a threat to reality, and Yasira is the best tool for the job of finding her. But Yasira may find that the ruthless angels are less trustworthy than the woman seeking to broach the walls of reality.

This is the story of Ada Hoffmann’s debut novel. The Outside.

The world that Hoffmann creates in the novel is intensely rich and interesting. Although the action is relatively limited in where it takes place, there are plenty of implied and referenced locations, cultures, and elements that give it a feel of a well designed universe. There are a number of different planetary cultures, a few aliens, interesting bits of technology (including a division between technology that humans have, and the technology only the Angels and Gods have) and plenty of spaces that feel lived in and real. There are a few references to the Mythos here, too, but Hoffmann keeps a relatively light hand on that. 

And then there are the theological aspects to her universe Mixing religion and space opera convincingly into a novel is a tricky task that few authors attempt with any sort of rigor. Herbert’s Dune is far less common than much more sterile rationalist space future, or futures where religion feels perfunctory and tacked on. Perhaps it is because of the nature of the AI Gods and their very Olympian God meddling into daily life, but the theistic aspects of Hoffmann’s universe feel organic and tied to the setting. But of course AIs afraid of contamination of the Outside would be watching scientific research, and intervene when such research threatens the stability of all and sundry. A hierarchical bureaucratic vision of servants of various Gods? Yep, that really feels how “it would go”. Yasira’s girlfriend Tiv (short for Productivity) is a genuinely devout character whose faith and belief is treated with respect. And while movies like Event Horizon do nibble at the idea of using Lovecraftian motifs in space, this novel runs with that idea. The Outside is no less dangerous and threatening in an interstellar civilization of high technology. And the novel also makes clear in the building of this world just exactly why, after becoming Gods, why these AIs still bother with humans instead of going off and ignoring their creators.

The novel also gets a lot of good love for its characters, especially its nuanced and sympathetic depiction of neurodivergent characters. Yasira is autistic, and I found her as a protagonist relatable, grounded, believable and extremely interesting. Her neurodivergent nature is not just there for plot reasons or for color, it is crucial to understanding her and with her as one of our major point of views, we really get a sense and feel of how an autistic character might thrive and act in a weird and wondrous future. Unlike, say, Elizabeth Moon’s The Speed of Dark, which also revolves around an autistic character and a potential cure for it, the future that Hoffmann posits has standard and well accepted practices and techniques for autistic characters to adapt to society. Yasira is not the only neurodivergent character, either, as her mentor (and antagonist) also shows neurodivergence. And then there is Enga, one of the more martially inclined Angels, who has a speech deficiency which is compensated with her using a speech to text device. She’s ferocious, unrelenting, sometimes dryly funny and definitely someone I’d rather have at my back in an alley rather than the other side. 

The other characters in the novel come off very well, too. The angel Akavi, head of the angel team under the Goddess Nemesis that takes Yasira into custody, comes across as a more than a little charismatic Lawful Evil angel with goals, plans and drives of his own. He’s hardly autonomous, though, and has to report to hierarchies above him, leading him to have to make sometimes unorthodox and bold choices--as well as frankly evil and unappetizing ones. Having him for point of view does allow us to see his point of view, and he also provides a lot of mental infodumping on some of the aforementioned worldbuilding.

With a rich, inventive world and characters to populate it, the plotting of the novel shows a few signs of first novel lack of polish. I am very impressed otherwise with the novel and would be definitely amenable to having a follow up novel or other novels set in the universe that the author might write. More, please. 

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 7/10.

Bonuses: +1 for excellent and inventive worldbuilding
+1 for a strong set of interesting characters, especially the neurodivergent. 

Penalties: -1 for a few first novel bits of roughness in plotting

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10 well worth your time and attention

Reference:  Hoffmann, Ada  The Outside  [Angry Robot 2019]

Paul Weimer. Ubiquitous in Shadow, but I’m just this guy, you know? @princejvstin.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Thursday Morning Superhero: My SDCC Schedule

If attending San Diego Comic Con for the past 10 or so years is that you never get to do everything you plan for.  There are some obvious scheduling conflicts below and the panels I attend are now greatly influenced by my son, but here are some panels that we may or may not attend.  The only panel that I absolutely cannot miss is the Locke and Key panel on Friday despite that series not being age appropriate for a 12 year old.

10am - Funko Funkast (Room 7AB):
I am worried that I will miss this due to picking up tickets for Conan, but will try to make the live recording of a podcast that focuses on all things Funko, pop culture, and some amazing bad dad jokes.

1:30pm - Marvel Games (Hall H):
My son needs to experience Hall H at least once during his brief SDCC tenure and a panel on video games is right up his alley.  Hoping to check this one out and scope out future games that we can play together.

3:00pm - Entertainment Earth (Room 9):
If you have noticed a theme in a lot of my posts is that I enjoy collecting toys.  I have sadly passed this love of collecting down to my son and this sounds like an informative panel that should be quite entertaining.

4:30pm - Art of Ghibli (Horton Grand Theater):
I need to double-check how to get tickets for the Horton Grand Theater (I have successfully done this in the past!) as my family are huge Studio Ghibli fans.  This sounds like an amazing panel that will be a delight to watch.

11:00am - Fun with Funko (Room 7AB):
This is a panel that I wanted to check out, but will likely miss it due to the Locke and Key panel. I hate to miss this as it sounds like it will shed a lot of light on how Funko got the Star Wars licence.  I love learning about the history of various toy companies and this panel is right up my alley.

11:30am - Veronica Mars (Ballroom 20):
Shout out to my older brother who recommended this show to my wife and myself. Similar to the Fun with Funko panel, this one is hitting the cutting room floor due to Locke and Key.  Lucky fans who get to attend will enjoy the first episode of the new season.  This will be a popular panel and I hope I know someone who goes to it.

12:00pm - Locke and Key (32AB):
Season 1 of the Netflix Locke and Key series has wrapped and Joe Hill and Gabriel Rodriguez have teased images that suggest they are returning to the world of Locke and Key for a new comic. They hinted at this in years past and I am super pumped that they are finally revisiting what is one of the best comic book series of all time.

2:00pm - Wizards Unite (6BCF):
My family loves Pokemon Go and have enjoyed partaking in a similar-ish experience via Wizards Unite. Wizards Unite provides a more in-depth experience than Pokemon Go and has reignited our interest in Harry Potter.  Hosted by the delightful Felicia Day, this should be a lot of fun.

3:30pm - Dark Crystal (Hall H):
Not sure how hard this one will be to get into, but I am happy to see Dark Crystal introduced to a new generation of fans. I love the mix of puppets and CGI in the trailers for this series and really want to see more. Not sure how this will impact some off-site plans I have, but this would be great to check out.

11:15am - Lego Animation (Room 6A):
I am sure there are other panels of interest on Saturday, but it is looking like this might be the day that my son and I take it easy.  We both have a vested interest in this panel as the Ninjago series is one of our all-time favorites.  Not sure there will be anything related to Ninjago, but we would love to support this talented group.

10:30am - IDW Comics for Kids (Room 23ABC):
My daughter is joining my son and I on Sunday for her first SDCC.  This panel features James Kochalka who is one of our favorite all-ages creators (Johnny Boo!).  Not everything Kochalka creates is all-ages, but we have really enjoyed his all-ages lineup.

11:15am - Spotlight on Scott Snyder (Room 6DE):
Not sure the kids will enjoy this one, but Snyder's Batman run is up there with the best and it would be great to learn more about his creative process and what future plans he has.  If I can only convince the kids to join me for this.

2:15pm - Batman Family Matters (Room 6BCF):
This panel is simply a screening of a new animated Batman movie and sounds like a nice quiet way to wind down an exhausting weekend of fun.

POSTED BY MIKE N. aka Victor Domashev -- comic guy, proudly raising nerdy kids, and Nerds of a Feather contributor since 2012.

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Watching the Hugos: Dramatic Presentation, Long Form

Watching the Hugos continues with a look at the six finalists up for Dramatic Presentation, Long Form. Long Form generally means feature length movies but by definition is any eligible work 90 minutes or longer.

In previous years, three seasons of television have made the final ballot (Heroes, Game of Thrones, Stranger Things) and one audio book (METAtropolis, which was created for audio first). Otherwise, movies. It's a different story in the years prior to when the Dramatic Presentation category was split between Long Form and Short Form, but that's not what we're considering here.

Three of the films I nominated made the final ballot (Annihilation, A Quiet Place, Black Panther), though I definitely would have nominated Into the Spider-Verse had I seen the movie in time.

I also functionally ran out of time to watch Sorry to Bother You before the voting deadline, but I'm sure it's great.

Let's take a look at the finalists, shall we?

Annihilation, directed and written for the screen by Alex Garland, based on the novel by Jeff VanderMeer (Paramount Pictures / Skydance)
Avengers: Infinity War, screenplay by Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely, directed by Anthony Russo and Joe Russo (Marvel Studios)
Black Panther, written by Ryan Coogler and Joe Robert Cole, directed by Ryan Coogler (Marvel Studios)
A Quiet Place, screenplay by Scott Beck, John Krasinski and Bryan Woods, directed by John Krasinski (Platinum Dunes / Sunday Night)
Sorry to Bother You, written and directed by Boots Riley (Annapurna Pictures)
Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, screenplay by Phil Lord and Rodney Rothman, directed by Bob Persichetti, Peter Ramsey and Rodney Rothman (Sony)

Avengers: Infinity War: I don't judge the success of Infinity War by how Endgame played out and tied together the plot threads of twenty one movies and wrapped up the action of Infinity War, but it is almost impossible to completely divorce the two and I sort of wish I started writing this before watching Endgame instead of after. I expect I'll have the opportunity to write about Endgame in this space next year.

Infinity War is the Marvel Cinematic Universe writ large, the culmination of everything that came before it and setting up a universe altering finale. "The Snap" has entered into the cultural consciousness as a thing that will be referenced for years. It's a BIG movie, not simply in length, but in storytelling, action, and perhaps even in bloat. Infinity War is what most of the Marvel movies have become: an event and an institution. It's a theme park in movie form, which is a wonderful thing, but as a movie, as a film, as a "dramatic presentation" it becomes much more difficult to consider. The greatest successes of Infinity War are also some of what holds it back when placed in comparison to more singular movies, even one which is part of this same universe.

Annihilation: I came into Annihilation with a curious set of expectations, having been a fan of Jeff VanderMeer's novel but completely uncertain as to how it could possibly be adapted for film. That's a fairly common concern for the book to movie transition, but Annihilation the book was both so visual as well as so internal and the "story" was somewhat nebulous. I loved the book (here's G's review), but the movie is another animal altogether.

The movie works. It is perhaps not so introspective as the novel until approaching the last act, which is both horrifying and terrifying in tandem (with or without the stunning score). The movie is unsettling, to say the least, and it is excellent. (Brian's review)

Black Panther: Black Panther may be the most culturally significant movie of 2018, earning an Academy Award nomination for Best Picture (a first for a superhero movie) and notable for being one of the first Marvel movies to feature all black lead actors and actresses (we do not forget about Wesley Snipes in Blade some twenty years earlier). It is also excellent, thrilling, and exciting.

Black Panther fits very neatly in the Marvel Cinematic Universe while still managing to occupy a space outside of it which also works for the idea of Wakanda.  The film is set in Africa, but Wakanda has set itself apart due to its wealth and deposits of vibranium. That wealth has allowed Wakanda to avoid the slave trade and to set a policy of strict isolationism. We see a nation allowed to find its own destiny unfettered from Western colonialism. Somebody far more knowledgeable than me can work with the critique inherent in Black Panther. Though still very much a Marvel movie (with all that entails), Black Panther dares to do something different and be more. Wakanda forever. (G's Review)

A Quiet Place: Most films on this ballot received extra attention due to their pedigree. Three Marvel movies and another based on Jeff VanderMeer's 2015 Nebula Award winning novel. Each succeeded (mostly) on their own merits, but A Quiet Place only came to my attention as "a small but well regarded horror movie" at a time my wife and I were looking to watch just that thing. We didn't expect near perfection and perpetual tension.

I've read and watched enough science fiction to feel that most stories are variations of a theme, but as a movie A Quiet Place felt fresh. We're used to sound being critical to horror movies (or movies in general), but here the barest crack of a branch is a moment to pause in terror. Bird Box did something similar with sight that same year, but making a movie this quiet was a daring move on the part of John Krasinski and it pays off.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse: When I wrote about Infinity War and Black Panther, I alluded to the Marvel Cinematic Universe having a particular tone and a particular style. Into the Spider-Verse does something completely different and it does it with panache. An animated film, Into the Spider-Verse is (as of yet) not part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Rather it exists on its own island (but not a Spider-Island, that's something different) and brings together a number of the Spider-Mans (Spider-Men?) from the comics: Miles Morales, Spider-Gwen, Spider-Ham, Spider-Man Noir (a gloriously hammy Nic Cage), and a different Peter Parker than the one from the main universe - though, to be fair, I don't know what the main universe is in this movie. I also don't care.

Into the Spider-Verse could not work as a live action film. It works with the traditions of comic book pages, movement between panels and stylistically brings it all together in a nearly perfect package. The visual style of the movie, while vital to how the story is being told and the vibrant excitement and modernity of the storytelling, never overwhelms the heart of the story being told, of the introduction of Miles Morales to a wider audience. I only wish I could watch Into the Spider-Verse again for the first time.

My Vote
1. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse
2. A Quiet Place
3. Black Panther
4. Annihilation
5. Avengers: Infinity War

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Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 3x Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Microreview [Book]: The Weight of our Sky by Hanna Alkaf

A well-crafted delight for YA fans seeking horizon-broadening historical fare

Cover Art by Guy Shields

As a historical YA set in Malaysia with only the lightest of speculative elements, The Weight of our Sky is a bit out-of-lane for this blog, but the author overlaps with a lot of the Twitter writing people that I follow, and this debut has been on my radar for quite some time. I've spent some time in Southeast Asia and am familiar with a fair bit of the region's 20th century history, but I knew little about Malaysia and the complex historical relationships between its ethnic groups. The Weight of our Sky focuses on once incident in particular: the riots set off on 13 May 1969 in Kuala Lumpur, in which hundreds of people (with wildly diverging "official" and "unofficial" death tolls) were killed in sectarian violence largely between Chinese and Malay populations in the city. This is an event that clearly still looms large among Malaysian communities and I think it's particularly important for a book like this for me to note that what follows is an outgroup review and only likely to be insightful to those, like me, coming from an outsider perspective with limited understanding of the specific cultural context. For a more ownvoices take, I recommend The Quiet Pond for a perspective from the Malaysian diaspora.

The protagonist of The Weight of our Sky is a Melati, a young Malay Muslim woman who, since the untimely death of her father, has been suffering from what she feels is possession by a malevolent djinn: trapped by compulsions and by obsessive thoughts about the death of her mother (symptoms which are recognisable to a modern audience as OCD), she is already struggling when the events of May 13 begin.  Caught in the cinema where she and her friend have been watching a film, Melati narrowly escapes the first round of violence, and is taken in by an older Chinese woman, Auntie Bee, who looks after her in the days following the riots. Despite being from ethnic groups on different side of the conflict, Melati connects with most members of the family and integrates into the small community they build while trying to survive the now-lawless city. Still desperate to get back to her mother, however, she convinces the family's younger son, who is volunteering with the Red Cross, to take her out on his trips - and soon learns how dangerous the streets still are and how much courage and willpower it will take to survive, and help others, in the circumstances.

The book wastes no time getting into its historical events, and the opening chapters provide all the necessary information to understand Melati's society and the immediate trigger to the riots. It does so while placing significantly more weight on Melati's personal history, and particularly the symptoms and progression of her illness. Melati's battles with OCD, including her self-talk and her constant rationalising and bargaining with herself over compulsive behaviour, are front and centre of every chapter, and its all-encompassing nature gives her character a broadly relateable and satisfying arc without overstating her agency in a complicated political situation. It also allows Melati to be somewhat distracted about the underlying factors of the riots and for characters to be able to explain these to her, making them more accessible to modern readers, particularly those who may not have a background on the ongoing tensions between communities in Malaysia. By not dwelling on the immediate political triggers and relying on their explanatory power, Alkaf's story manages to drive home the overwhelming senselessness of the ethnic tensions that are driving people to violence, while gently exploring some of the social factors that have made the communities' lives harder through the eyes of a painfully fallible young protagonist.

The treatment of Melati's OCD, particularly in this time and place, could have easily been a story by itself without the historical trauma, and it's treated in a way which feels very real. Melati makes sense of her suffering by assuming is that that there is a djinn in her head who needs constant appeasement through rituals in order to ensure her mother stays alive (or to at least stop the thoughts about her death; the book is deliberately vague and illogical, just as mental illnesses themselves are). The use of this device is explained in the author foreword, but even without the particular cultural touchstones, Melati's internal dialogue makes an unpleasant kind of sense to anyone who has dealt with intrusive thoughts or negative self-talk, and we can only watch in sympathy as she is paralysed with her compulsive behaviours at the worst possible times, or locks herself into vicious cycles where every tiny failure or trauma contributes to a confirmatory bias in which she is the sole person responsible for the fate of her loved ones.

For most of the book, the threat of violence is constant but with the exception of an early incident the individuals who are actually committing the violence remain in the background. Instead we see people who are trying to do their best in bad situations, who have been assaulted offscreen and are now trying to survive, or who condone the racial hatred behind the riots but aren't actually going out and perpetuating it. There's what feels like a deliberate disjointedness between the attitudes of people Melati actually spends time with, no matter how difficult or racist, and the senselessness of the rioting and death that's taken over her city; it drives home the extent to which the causal factors behind the riot - or any incident of this type - just don't justify violence in any rational sense. It's perhaps a little convenient that the one character who is being set up to play an active role in the fighting is then talked down at the very last minute, avoiding the very complex human spin that would put on the tentative reconciliation and collective grief the book ends with. On the whole, though, I think the narrative makes the right choices when it comes to showing how the violence takes hold, steering away from any too-easy explanations or straightforward villains to hang the blame on in favour of presenting a difficult political situation in a way that fits the narrative.

The cultural aspects of the story also feel well told, and I could imagine this level of nuance towards an existing culture and historical moment from anything but an own voices story. My particular favourites were the older women in the story: Auntie Bee and Mak Siti- are fantastic characters, imbued with all the cultural gravitas and expectations of being obeyed that an older "Auntie" has in the cultural context. There's a particularly magnificent scene where, on finding her way back to her home, Mak Siti tells Melati off for not coming home on the night of the riot because the fish she'd cooked had gone to waste. It's a statement so ridiculous that even Melati has to work out whether she means it, but the narrative simultaneously makes it clear that Melati needs to take her Auntie's worries seriously, no matter how banal and unreasonable they appear, while also understanding and caring about the emotion and worry that provoked the statement in the first place. Of course, the Aunties are just a small part of an ensemble that encompasses Chinese, Malay and Indians, young and old, military and civilian, and there's generally impressive character work on display making the individuals and small communities Melati comes into contact with feel real, even when their role in the plot is small (and again, sometimes a little too convenient).

I'm hesitant to call any book "required reading", and Alkaf herself notes that there are plenty of reasons not to read the book given its subject matter and potential trigger points. However, Alkaf doesn't treat her subject matter in a gratuitous or deliberately shock-inducing way, and if you're prepared for a difficult read, The Weight of our Sky is accessible a a book dealing with a traumatic historical event is likely to get. That it's a book about an event in 1969 Malaysia with limited visibility on a global stage, published in English for an international audience, makes it something I'd recommend to any non-Malaysian reader seeking to broaden their horizons and engage with events outside the limited slice of history that so often informs our perspectives.

The Math

Baseline Assessment: 8/10

Bonuses: +1 Balances two enormous issues - the riots and Melati's OCD - with skill and sensitivity

Penalties: -1 Plot occasionally verges on the too-convenient

Nerd Coefficient: 8/10

POSTED BY: Adri is a semi-aquatic migratory mammal most often found in the UK. She has many opinions about SFF books, and is also partial to gaming, baking, interacting with dogs, and Asian-style karaoke. Find her on Twitter at @adrijjy.

Reference:  Alkaf, Hanna. The Weight of Our Sky [Salaam Reads, 2019].

Monday, July 15, 2019

Joe's Books of 2019: Part One (January - June)

Good morning and welcome to my cataloging of all of the books I read in the first six months of 2019. I started this feature several years ago and it's something I really enjoy doing. I love making lists of books and I only review or even write about a small fraction of what I read in any given year. Doing all twelve months in one go would be overwhelming, but six months seems about right to me.
What I read during the year is not all about the new shiny, but I do try to keep up with some of the more prominent works of the genre coming out each year (and works that should be more prominent than they are). Even before the television show, there was no lack of conversation around The Expanse novels, but James S.A. Corey is doing some of the best work of their career with Tiamat’s Wrath. It’s the eighth novel in the series, and with the resetting of the deck with the time jump the previous novel, Persepolis Rising, they are reaching for new heights. Tiamat’s Wrath is all the richer for the journey of the previous seven novels, but damn, James S.A. Corey is at the top of their game.

Also on the top of her game is Charlie Jane Anders. The City in the Middle of the Night is her second speculative fiction novel and it is a tonal departure from her Nebula Award winning debut All the Birds in the Sky. The City in the Middle of the Night is reminiscent of Ursula K. Le Guin’s work with her Hainish novels, which is perhaps as high a compliment as one can give a novel. Expect to see this on awards lists and Best Ofs.

I am willing to go out on a limb right now and say that it is exceedingly unlikely that I am going to read a better novel in 2019 than The Light Brigade. We thought we were waiting for the final volume in her Worldbreakers Saga, but what Hurley has been doing the last few years is leveling up and then leveling up again. The Stars Are Legion and The Light Brigade are her two best novels and The Light Brigade is Hurley taking another step forward as one of the most important and vital writers working today. The Light Brigade is that damn good, people.

Not published this year, and I’ll mention it again when discussing some of the more explicitly feminist works I’ve read this year so far, more readers should pay attention to Isaac Fellman’s The Breath of the Sun. It is a quiet and extraordinary novel.

With Seanan McGuire on the Best Series ballot for the last three years (twice for October Daye, once for InCrytpid), I wanted to read a whole lot more of her work. I’ve adored a LOT of her work (Every Heart a Doorway is one of the best stories I’ve read, Into the Drowning Deep is spectacular), but until last year I hadn’t delved deeply into her longer series work. Last year I began her Incryptid series and feel head over heels for it. This year marked my big push to catch up and catch up I have. That Ain’t Witchcraft is the most recent Incryptid novel and it is just lovely. October Daye had been on the backburner for years after thinking Rosemary and Rue was just okay. I’m now four novels into October Daye and by the time this essay goes live it’ll be five. I have a ways to go, but I will eventually read all McGuire’s novel and novella length fiction. I’d say all of her fiction, but likely I won’t get to all her shorter work and I’m sure I’ll miss a comic book or three. What you shouldn’t miss, though, is her standalone (for now) novel Middlegame from Tor.com Publishing. Seanan McGuire is a powerhouse and Middlegame is a more ambitious novel in terms of form and craft and she absolutely nails it. Also, don’t sleep on Alien: Echo written under her Mira Grant persona. It’s set in the wider Alien franchise and it is a killer (!) YA horror novel.

Another writer I’ve made a major push on this year is Lois McMaster Bujold. I was tired of being behind on her Vorkosigan series and I read eight novels and novellas I had left. Now I’m sad, because I have no more new Vorkosigan to read. It might be time to make that next push into her Chalion and Sharing Knife universes. I was delighted by Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance. I would love another novel from Ivan’s perspective, and I hope that The Flower of Vashnoi suggests that we’ll see more Ekaterin stories. Miles can’t have all the fun, after all. Cryoburn was excellent, but there is certainly room for more stories of Miles as Lord Auditor.

 If you’ve followed these twice annual essays, you may remember that one of my favorite things to do early in the year is to follow The Tournament of Books, a March Madness style bracket of novels pitted against each other in a completely frivolous and absolutely serious tournament. It’s been an opportunity for me to read stuff I might otherwise have never discovered (Homegoing! Pachinko! The Mothers!) and is something my wife and I enjoy discussing together (the venn diagram of our reading habits only partially overlaps). Some highlights this year include Tommy Orange’s debut There There, the Pulitzer Prizing winning novel The Overstory, from Richard Powers, and My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Braithwaite. I wasn’t able to get to Washington Black (Esi Edugyan) during the tournament, but do still plan to read it this year before my attention is gobbled up by next year’s tournament.

In a technical sense, our Feminist Futures initiative ended last year. We published 16 essays and reviews, from October though December, but in a sense Feminist Futures is forever because I’ve pushed myself to make changes in what I read and to continue to seek different voices that I may have overlooked. There were several books I planned to write about as part of Feminist Futures that I just did not get to during the main run of the feature. Pamela Sargent’s More Women of Wonder, a follow up anthology to her seminal Women of Wonder is just as good as the first and focuses on more recent (for the time) novelettes – though there is a Jirel of Joiry story from CL Moore. More Women of Wonder includes an Alyx story from Joanna Russ and a Hainish story from Le Guin which can serve as a mini prologue to The Dispossessed. The other anthology I had hoped to cover for Feminist Futures was Sisters of the Revolution, edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer. With stories ranging from 1978 to 2012, Sisters of the Revolution looks at what came after the crest of second wave of feminist science fiction. It is as good as advertised.

Having read two of Pamela Sargent’s anthologies, I wanted to take the time to read one of her novels. The Shore of Women reminded me in many ways of Sheri S. Tepper’s The Gate to Women’s Country, though it is important to note that Sargent’s novel was published two years before Tepper’s. They take very similar approaches to the idea of segregating women in a more “civilized” and advanced city and forcing the men out in the wild except to provide seed for the women to reproduce. I prefer The Shore of Women. I also reviewed Elizabeth A. Lynn’s Watchtower, an excellent fantasy featuring queer characters – something that was far more groundbreaking in 1979 than today. The novel holds up otherwise. Not specifically from the Feminist Futures project, but I would point to Isaac Fellman’s Breath of the Sun (published by Aqueduct) as an excellent feminist fantasy novel published last year.

Also, worth looking at – Adri reviewed Dreamsnake following Vonda McIntyre’s passing and Vance reviewed Joanna Russ’s The Female Man. I read The Female Man last year for Feminist Futures but couldn’t come up with a direction to write about it, and Dreamsnake remains on my must-read-this-year list.

 Since Hugo Award Season is eternal, I am reading: this year’s finalists, novels and novellas that may be in consideration for next year, and beginning a project for later this year looking back and previous Hugo Award winners. I think that just means I’m reading science fiction and fantasy. Anything more might cause my head to explode. I’d recommend Jo Walton’s An Informal History of the Hugos to get a year by year dive into the Hugo Awards from the beginning up through 2010. It’s a deeply personal consideration, informed by Walton’s tastes, but as with so many of her essays, highly engaging. Also on the Related Work ballot is Alec Nevala-Lee’s Astounding, an excellent four-way biography of John W. Campbell, Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, and L. Ron Hubbard. Yes, that L. Ron Hubbard of scientology fame. It is a vital look at a part of the genre’s history. Also part of this genre’s history, They’d Rather Be Right won the second ever Hugo Award for Best Novel and it is generally known as the worst Hugo Award winner of all time. Naturally, I read it. It sure is a book.

More excellently, and on the Lodestar ballot for Best YA Novel, I can only give my highest recommendation to Justina Ireland’s Dread Nation. It is so much better than I could have anticipated, and I already had very high expectations.

 I am somewhat off my unspoken goal pace of reading an average of one short story per day for the full year. I think I borrowed the goal from Bridget McKinney of the 2018 Hugo Finalist SF Bluestocking (but don’t worry, I’ll give it back), and though I don’t think I’m going to make it anymore, it is probably reasonable for me to read at least 200 stories this year published in anthologies and collections. Two of my most anticipated were Ted Chiang’s Exhalation and Sarah Pinsker’s Sooner or Later Everything Falls Into the Sea. It’s been seventeen years since Chiang published his last collection (Stories of Your Life and Others) and Exhalation lives up to the anticipation. Chiang is one of the genre’s best short story writers of all time. He’s not prolific, but what he puts out is of the highest quality.

Compared to Chiang, Sarah Pinsker is very much a newer writer in the early years of her career – though she has been publishing for seven years and her short fiction has been rightfully recognized for excellence from the start. Sooner or Later Everything Falls Into the Sea is Pinsker’s debut collection and at the very least, I’ve been following along with her award nominated fiction for the entire time. It doesn’t get much better than one of Sarah Pinsker’s stories.

I’ve read eight collections or anthologies so far this year, which even though it’s not quite meeting my borrowed goal, it’s a whole lot more short fiction than I’ve read in recent years. I’d also like to spotlight Kat Howard’s collection A Cathedral of Myth and Bone (also a 2019 publication), and New Suns: Original Speculative Fiction by People of Color, edited by Nisi Shawl. Both are very much worth checking out. With an eye to some older fiction, I’ve read two feminist collections noted above (More Women of Wonder and Sisters of the Revolution) and Judith Merril’s 1956 anthology SF: The Year’s Greatest Science Fiction and Fantasy (see my conversation with Adri and Paul).

Finally, I would like to take a look at my reading statistics for the first half of 2019 as it relates to gender. This is something I've been thinking about and working on for a number of years now and I have found that I tend to do a better job at meeting my goals when I check in after every month and continually monitor my progress. Even with five years of thoughtful reading choices, it is so easy to find myself reading fewer women than I would like.

It should go without saying, but I know there will be misunderstanding if I don't. This isn't about denying one set of books (written by men) for another (written by women). It's not. This is about embracing as much as possible. This is about discovering new favorite books and new favorite authors that I never would have discovered if I didn't make a point to see out authors I've "always meant to read" but never have. How many of these women have written my favorite books, if I only I took the smallest amount of effort to find them?

Ultimately, I want to read everything. All the books.

If my count is correct (and I have been known to miss a book or two, despite my obsessive list making), 67 of the 91 books I've read were written by women (73.62%).

I should also note that I am only counting those writers who use female pronouns in my count of female writers versus male. Any mistakes in this count are mine alone and I apologize for any misunderstandings I may have propagated.

Here are my stats from the last four years for a point of comparison.
2018: 68.42%
2017: 51.50%
2016: 56.21%
2015: 58.59%
2014: 45.92%

Now, on with the lists!

1. The Italian Teacher, by Tom Rachman
2. The Breath of the Sun, by Rachel Fellman
3. Speak No Evil, by Uzodinma Iweala
4. Komarr, by Lois McMaster Bujold
5. A Civil Campaign, by Lois McMaster Bujold
6. Winterfair Gifts, by Lois McMaster Bujold
7. Born to the Blade: Season One, by Michael R. Underwood, Malka Older, Cassandra Khaw, Marie Brennan
8. 1634: The Galileo Affair, by Eric Flint and Andrew Dennis
9. The Dictionary of Animal Languages, by Heidi Sopinka
10. Magic for Nothing, by Seanan McGuire
11. Falling Free, by Lois McMaster Bujold
12. Diplomatic Immunity, by Lois McMaster Bujold
13. Sisters of the Revolution, edited by Ann and Jeff VanderMeer
14. More Women of Wonder, edited by Pamela Sargent

15. Lioness Rampant, by Tamora Pierce
16. Tricks for Free, by Seanan McGuire
17. The Recitation of the Most Holy and Harrowing Pilgrimage of Mindy and Also Mork, by Seanan McGuire
18. There There, by Tommy Orange
19. Outside the Gates, by Molly Gloss
20. Charmed Life, by Diana Wynne Jones
21. New Suns: Original Speculative Fiction by People of Color, edited by Nisi Shawl
22. Captain Vorpatril's Alliance, by Lois McMaster Bujold
23. Tor.com Short Fiction: January-February 2019, by John Chu, Elizabeth Bear, Mimi Mondal, J.Y. Yang, Mary Robinette Kowal, Annalee Newitz
24. The Parking Lot Attendant, by Nafkote Tamirat
25. Friday Black, by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah
26. Blackfish City, by Sam J. Miller
27. Black Leopard, Red Wolf, by Marlon James
28. Warlight, by Michael Ondaatje 

29. The Dispossessed, by Ursula K. Le Guin
30. The Fall of Io, by Wesley Chu 
31. The Bastard Prince, by Katherine Kurtz
32. Alliance Rising, by C.J. Cherryh and Jane S. Fancher
33. Her Silhouette, Drawn in Water, by Vylar Kaftan
34. The Overstory, by Richard Powers
35. Atlas Alone, by Emma Newman
36. On the Come Up, by Angie Thomas
37. In the Shadow of Spindrift House, by Mira Grant
38. A Cathedral of Myth and Bone, by Kat Howard
39. The Lost Girl, by Anne Ursu

40. Sparrow Hill Road, by Seanan McGuire
41. SF: The Year's Greatest Science Fiction and Fantasy (1956), edited by Judith Merril
42. Middlegame, by Seanan McGuire
43. Your Favorite Band Cannot Save You, by Scotto Moore
44. Cryoburn, by Lois McMaster Bujold
45. The City in the Middle of the Night, by Charlie Jane Anders
46. The Test, by Sylvain Neuvel
47. Daisy Jones and the Six, by Taylor Jenkins Reid
48. Watchtower, by Elizabeth A. Lynn
49. Everything I Never Told You, by Celeste Ng
50. Assassin's Price, by L.E. Modesitt, Jr
51. Salvation Day, by Kali Wallace
52. The Red Wyvern, by Katharine Kerr 
53. Sooner or Later Everything Falls Into the Sea, by Sarah Pinsker
54. An Artificial Night, by Seanan McGuire

55. Wild Life, by Molly Gloss
56. The Last Time I Lied, by Riley Sager
57. The Shore of Women, by Pamela Sargent
58. The Only Harmless Great Thing, by Brooke Bolander
59. The Flowers of Vashnoi, by Lois McMaster Bujold
60. My Sister, the Serial Killer, by Oyinkan Braithwaite
61. Atmosphaera Incognita, by Neal Stephenson

Astounding: John W. Campell, Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, L. Ron Hubbard, and the Golden Age of Science Fiction, by Alec Nevala-Lee
70. Ursula K. Le Guin: Conversations on Writing, by Ursula K. Le Guin and David Naimon
71. Storm of Locusts, by Rebecca Roanhorse
72. On a Red Station, Drifting, by Aliette de Bodard
73. The Dragon That Flew Out of the Sun, by Aliette de Bodard
Hunting Party, by Elizabeth Moon
76. That Ain't Witchcraft, by Seanan McGuire
77. The Measure of a Monster, by Seanan McGuire

78. Exhalation, by Ted Chiang
Late Eclipses, by Seanan McGuire
81. Tess of the Road, by Rachel Hartman
82. Tiamat's Wrath, by James S.A. Corey
83. They'd Rather Be Right, by Mark Clifton and Frank Reilly
84. A History of the Hugo, Nebula, and International Fantasy Awards, by Donald Franson and Howard DeVore
85. Dread Nation, by Justina Ireland
86. The Luminous Dead, by Caitlin Starling
87. Terran Tomorrow, by Nancy Kress
88. The Cruel Prince, by Holly Black 
89. All Over the Map: A Cartographic Odyssey, by Betsy Mason
90. An Absolutely Remarkable Thing, by Hank Green
91. Convenience Store Woman, by Sayaka Murata

POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 3x Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Minnesotan.