THE MONTHLY ROUND - A Taster's Guide to Speculative Short Fiction, 05/2017

 Welcome back! You look tired. Our ongoing dystopia got you down? Well I can’t say I have a cure for what ails you, but I do think I might have something that will take the edge off. Six stories, hand selected as my favorite pieces of short SFF from May 2017. These are stories that inspire and soothe, that provoke and unsettle, but there’s a beauty in all of them, and a strength as well.

June seems to have put me in the mind of settings that drag at a person, that try to push them down. Most of the stories in this month’s flight feature worlds—cities, planets, houses, closets—that oppress. And so they feature characters dealing with worlds that let them down, something I’m sure most people can relate to. How those characters react to that disappointment, to that injustice, is what makes the stories beautiful and fortifying. These are works of art that can inspire us to reach out in kindness to those in need, and in righteousness against those who would seek to use systems of oppression to exploit the vulnerable.

So sit down and shake off what burden you can. Let me pour you something...

Tasting Flight - May 2017

“Carnival Nine” by Caroline M. Yoachim (Beneath Ceaseless Skies)
Notes: The first impression is dominated by a pour like molasses and a strange, otherworldly aroma that breaks into flavors of hope underscored by hardship, strength that cannot be crushed, but cannot be truly free.
Pairs with: Barleywine
Review: Zee was made with a particularly good spring, one that allows them more turns than average—turns that must be used to complete actions, to do work, to travel, to live. It’s something that gives Zee hope when they are young, when they seem to be able to do so much, and the world seems open. And yet as they age and partner and have a child and that child has a spring that can’t handle many turns, that hopeful optimism transforms into something else. This story is dominated by the presence and absence both of the maker of the clockwork people who inhabit this world, this closet. Things are designed and yet things are not fair—if anything they keep most people barely getting by, looking out for themselves. The feeling they have as children that they can change the world, that they can even change their fates, is one that comes crashing down under the weight of what they must do, their burdens and responsibilities. It’s a wrenching story that takes a close look at ability and care, sacrifice and what makes life worth living. It’s tender and heartbreaking, revealing a system that’s broken and the reality that true reform is impossible while everyone refuses to use their turns for others. There is such love in the story, and care, and moments of relief and joy, but at its core, to me, it is a tragedy, albeit one that reveals something beautiful. Zee’s story is the story of many people who find they have to give up so much of themselves in order to do what is right by others, who give and give and give because the system is not built to support its people and so stigmatizes disability and places the burden of care solely on those who care about those with fewer turns, and rewards those who don’t care.

“They Will Take You From You” by Brandon O’Brien (Strange Horizons)
Notes: A nose of citrus and sunrise burn with a bitter fire, revealing a taste like banishing doubt, like a painting of reds and oranges and yellows, colors of heat and hope that cannot be contained.
Pairs with: Double IPA
Review: The Benefactors are aliens who have arrived on Earth in order to cultivate art. To encourage humans to create beauty and meaning and complexity. But they are also there to own that art, and even more than that, to own the artist after their death. The main character of the story is living in this world touched by these alien beings who seem to be collecting a lot of geniuses all at once. People mourn as geniuses are taken, and what’s more than that, images of some of those geniuses are beginning to appear, showing black geniuses bleached white. It is a shocking and dark beginning to a story that revolves around art and ownership, around the idea of benefactors and cultural imperialism. The main character is an artist himself, raised by his grandmother, who might or might not be a genius. Who gets recognized, after all, is still very much a question of race and privilege, and many geniuses are never acknowledged during their lives, only when they die and the Benefactors arrive to take the bodies. The story swirls around this, the way that great artists are consumed by the dominant cultures, by the colonizers, their art twisted to fit a narrative that benefits those who were often instrumental in exploiting and oppressing the artists. The feelings that the main character feels toward the Benefactors are complex, and part of the question is how much the Benefactors actually help. They claim to make geniuses, and yet the main character wonders how much of this way of thinking erases the human genius at work in art. That the Benefactors might give a bit of help at a key moment, but that it shouldn’t mean they have ownership of the artists, and by extension their art. It’s a story of mystery and doubt, violence and art, and it provides a startling and fascinating look at how art and artists are often colonized and redefined after their deaths to provide comfort to those they meant to provoke.

Art by Sam Schechter

"The Heart's Cartography" by Susan Jane Bigelow (Lightspeed)
Notes: Bright and with a lifting fizz that brings a smile even as the deep taste and intricate layers form a ladder of flavor to a better place, one crystal clear and golden.
Pairs with: Belgian Ale
Review: Jade is a young transwoman living in the shade of nature, in the expanse of a large forest, which serves as her refuge in a world that, while not always outwardly violent, is still far from being truly accepting or affirming. When another family moves in who just happen to be time travelers, Jade makes friends with one of them, a young girl named Sally. And in a story that has a great vision of what time travel could be, the real crux of the piece is friendship and acceptance and the power that comes from having control over your own story. For Jade and Sally both, the world isn’t exactly what they want it to be. Sally is constantly moving, constantly being forced to give up her homes, her friends. And Jade is constantly reminded of the ways that she doesn’t fit in, the ways that she is alone. I love the way the story makes this difference between loneliness and setting, though. Jade’s isolation is not in that she lives in a less populated area. She doesn’t want to move to a city, and being on her own in the woods isn’t a terrifying prospect. Instead, her loneliness comes from having no one to share the space with, no one to really understand her or interact with her. Until Sally. The two find in each other exactly what they were missing, and yet their time together seems doomed because of the nature of Sally’s family. Through it all, though, the story maintains a charming voice and a heartwarming sincerity that speaks of hope and acceptance even in a sea of uncertainty.

Art by Galen Dara

“Read Before Use” by Chinelo Onwualu (Uncanny)
Notes: Sharp like betrayal and tinged with the tastes of metal and blood, the flavor sinks and rises, flashing with joy and resilience while remaining bittersweet and complex.
Pairs with: Red IPA
Review: Satelight City runs on free energy designed by builders long dead, whose technology works despite the current population not really understanding how. At least, it’s been working up until recently. And really, there is one person who might not know how the technology works, but does have a good idea on where to look to find out. Alia is a scholar and teacher from a foreign land, a fact that makes her an outsider in a city ruled by a tight cadre of aristocratic psions. Despite her credentials and achievements being impeccable, her position is in jeopardy and in order to gain some security she needs to do what no one else has done—find the key to fixing the failing technology that allows Satelight City to exist inside a dome. And the story does a great job of showing how this city forces those born outside the ruling elite to compete with each other, betray each other all in an attempt to get what scraps are offered. That the city lives under a dome and with seemingly unlimited energy are things that some might think would lead to utopian conditions, but what the story shows is that corruption and tyranny can find a way. That it’s not enough to have plenty. That what’s really at stake here is power, and people like Alia find themselves continually running after approval in order to be safe, in order to be allowed to stay, to study, and to live. Outside of the psions, the conditions of the city might be better than outside the city dome, but only enough to motivate people to hold to what they have and not question the demands of the psions. It’s a tightly paced adventure of a story with twists and turns, victories that turn to ashy defeats. Alia is someone with power inside of her, with the ability to use fire magic, and yet even that becomes a liability because the psions fear those with power outside of their control, and the tragedy of the story is that ability and potential are squandered, knowledge lost, because the system does not truly care about merit, only upholding the status of the psions.

“The Stars that Fall” by Samantha Murray (Flash Fiction Online)
Notes: With a pour like searching the night sky and a taste nearly sweet and nearly terrifying, the profile built is one of vast distance and bold intimacy.
Pairs with: Black Lager
Review: Everyone has a death, and it’s waiting for them in space. A small rock that will fall as a meteor and take them, obliterate them. For the main character of the story, this is something of a horror, to know that this might happen at any moment, to have seen it happen to old and young alike. For their friend Sara, though, it’s exciting, and the two of them spend a lot of time together looking up at the mass of rocks, searching for their death. The story unfolds in an isolation where the main character pursues this interest not because they’re incredibly into it but because it gets them close to Sara. That closeness offers comfort but also danger, the possibility that it might all come unraveling. The way the story builds these rocks in space, each one engraved with a name, is interesting and almost morbid. But I also love that not many people care about looking up. They all want to keep their attention on the ground, on what’s going on around them. Partly this is healthy, because it stops them from being fixated on that one point, the unknown death. Partly, though, it’s also rather careless, because there are things to learn from the sky, as the main character discovers. And what they learn provokes them to take chances that they might not have, to try and build something before it’s too late. The story becomes about living in the shadow of something but not being defined by it, not being limited by it. Because in many ways we all live under shadows, under the reassurances of our mortality, and yet in the face of that we create beauty and life and laughter. Things that are ephemeral and temporary but also things that are worth fighting for, worth living for.

“Bear Language” by Martin Cahill (Fireside Fiction)
Notes: Notes of sweet honey bring light to to a pour dark brown like matted fur, like damp wood, like a home that is no longer safe, and delivers a balanced and rich flavor that lingers on the tongue.
Pairs with: Honey Bock
Review: Joanna and Oliver are staying with their father while their mother deals with a family emergency. At least, that’s the story they are told. Meanwhile, they have something of an emergency of their own to contend with when a bear walks through an open door into the house and the three humans retreat upstairs, to a room defined by the fear of the children and the slowly crumbling psyche of the father. I love the way the story contrasts the father and the bear. The bear, who is so patient and who Joanna can communicate with, who begins to teach Joanna the language of bears and the proper ways a parent watches over their child. Meanwhile the alcoholism and abuse present in the father become more and more apparent, and his treatment of the his children makes the story toe the line between fantasy and horror. Between bear and man, it’s not difficult to tell which is beastly and which is civilized, the bear offering for Joanna and Oliver some measure of protection and control, though it’s also not really an ideal situation. But the story examines how this family tries to fit together and might ultimately fall apart. It doesn’t flinch away from the anger of the father and the toxic masculinity that he showcases, the need to threaten and dominate to hide his own lack of control—in the situation with the bear but also larger than that, in the way he doesn’t control his drinking or his relationships. The story shows how Joanna learns to stand up against the shadow of her father and show a fierceness that she, and he, didn’t know she had. It doesn’t erase the damage done, or even really fix what’s been broken, but it does leave room for hope that the harm will not continue, that freedom and security are still possible.

---

POSTED BY: Charles, avid reader, reviewer, and sometimes writer of speculative fiction. Contributor to Nerds of a Feather since 2014.

Listening to the Hugos: Fancast

Welcome to another edition of Reading the Hugos! Though, since we're talking fancasts today we've temporarily rebranded to Listening to the Hugos! The exclamation is entirely optional and can be excluded if you're not feeling the excitement at any given moment.

This is my second year listening to podcasts and much like last year I have not listened to many SFF themed podcasts, especially since Rocket Talk and Midnight in Karachi seem to have gone on hiatus - which is a pity. As such, you'll see that none of my nominees are on the final ballot. Half of this year's finalists are familiar to me from previous years (Tea & Jeopardy, Rageaholic, Galactic Suburbia), two I have listened to on and off over the last several years (Coode Street, Fangirl Happy Hour), and one was completely new to me (Ditch Diggers). This is a much stronger ballot than what was on offer last year and I was happy to give all of them another listen.

On to the finalists!


The Coode Street Podcast, presented by Gary K. Wolfe and Jonathan Strahan
Ditch Diggers, presented by Mur Lafferty and Matt Wallace
Fangirl Happy Hour, presented by Ana Grilo and Renay Williams
Galactic Suburbia, presented by Alisa Krasnostein, Alexandra Pierce and Tansy Rayner Roberts, produced by Andrew Finch
The Rageaholic, presented by RazörFist
Tea and Jeopardy, presented by Emma Newman with Peter Newman


The Rageaholic: I'm going to recycle much of what I said last year regarding The Rageaholic because everything I said then applies in full this year: "While I think The Rageaholic could work as a straight up audio podcast, I'm not sure I really want someone yelling at me for ten to twenty minutes straight. If I wanted that I'd put The Rageaholic on in the background and not watch the screen. I appreciate Razorfist's passion and ability to pull out a ten plus minute rant seemingly without pausing to take a breath. I'm exhausted just listening to the man. I'm slightly curious how much of this is off the cuff brilliance or if he scripts up enough talking points to pull it off. Either way, the man has the ability to just blow and to do so with some profane eloquence. These video game rants, even on the stuff he loves, isn't entirely my cuppa (assuming I actually drank a cuppa, which I do not), but The Rageaholic comes with a fresh (and angry) perspective"

The difference this year is that The Rageaholic is up against a much stronger lineup of podcasts, and I vastly prefer an audio podcast over a video fancast. I sampled two of Razorfist's videos (my personal minimum for this category. My opinion was set after one episode, but it's always best to make sure) and this just isn't for me.

Tea and Jeopardy: My problem with Tea and Jeopardy is the framing device Emma Newman uses. The conceit here is that Newman is inviting a guest to her garden for a spot of tea. While I get that this is only a small part of the podcast, it is enough to completely put me off from subscribing. The episodes with Kate Elliott and Charlie Jane Anders were otherwise great conversations when Newman and her guests were not engaging with the framing device. It's just that the framing device is a complete turn off for me.  Since I've only listened to two episodes of this year's run, I'm can't be sure, but I think there Newman is also telling a serial story as part of the framing device - and this should interest me, but it really doesn't. I'm unlikely to listen to another episode unless Newman interviews an author I simply can't miss.

Galactic Surburbia: Winner of the 2015 Best Fancast Hugo. For this one I only sampled one episode, the year's end wrap up episode. I find my opinion on the conversation to be much the same as when I considered the category the year they won, which is simply that it was unable to grab my interest. Two years ago I struggled to get into any podcasts.  This time around I listen to many, but I'm going to pass on Galactic Suburbia. Since this is a five time finalist and one time winner of Best Fancast, I am clearly in the minority here.

Fangirl Happy Hour: I love the energy and passion that Ana Grilo and Renay Williams brings to the table (or, to the microphone, as the case may be). Grilo is part of the editing team behind the Hugo Finalist Semiprozine Book Smugglers (which was also a 2014 Finalist for Best Fanzine), a publisher crushing it with a number of very well regarded short works. Williams is one of the editors for Lady Business, now twice a finalist for Best Fanzine. I've listened to at least a third of the 2016 episodes, so I didn't give the primer episode a go. Williams and Grilo wear their fandom on their sleeves and make no bones about ranting on what bothers them about books and the shenanigans of genre or ranting in joyful excitement about the stuff they love. They get deep into what's going on behind the scenes of a story, bringing a serious level of depth and theory, examining why something works or in what way a novel might have failed while otherwise being an entertaining story.

The Coode Street Podcast: Back in my "I don't listen to podcasts" days, I tried The Coode Street Podcast and bounced off it much as I bounced off of every other podcast at that time. As a finalist for this year's Hugo Award it was time to give Strahan and Wolfe another shot and this time it stuck. Coode Street brings the perspective of an editor producing some of the finest anthologies today (Strahan) and a reviewer who's been doing the work for years (Wolfe). Coode Street feels like a conversation that has been going on for years and we're getting the chance to listen in. It's good stuff and the focus is on the parts of genre I tend to love. I listened to a wider cross section of episodes than the recommended ones.

Ditch Diggers: Despite not being a writer and not having much intention in becoming a published writer, I find myself fascinated by the Ditch Diggers podcast. Matt Wallace and Mur Lafferty drop a whole of truth about the reality of being a published writer and doing the work - or, as they refer to it, digging the ditches. They're not talking about the glamour of being an "author", they're talking about the work of being a professional writer. I listened to their recommended episodes (22: Guide to Absolute Failure, 26: Kameron Hurley and Hannah Bowen, 27: Madeline Ashby) and then I kept going.


My ballot
1. Ditch Diggers
2. The Coode Street Podcast
3. Fangirl Happy Hour
4. Galactic Suburbia
5. Tea and Jeopardy
6. The Rageaholic


Our previous coverage:
Novella 
Novelette
Short Story
Graphic Story


POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Writer / Editor of the mostly defunct Adventures in Reading since 2004. Minnesotan.

Microreview [book]: The Lady of the Lake by Andrzej Sapkowski

All great things must come to an end.

I've agonized over how to write this review, of the final chapter in a fantasy series that I can say without hesitation is the best I've ever read. To be frank, I'm not even sure I could adequately summarize the plot--not without giving something away that's best left to the joy of discovery. But here goes nothing.

The Lady of the Lake is the fifth and final volume in The Witcher Cycle, a series first published in Polish and then translated into Spanish, French, Russian, etc. Though an international sensation, English readers are getting it late. The only reason we are getting it at all is because CD Project Red adapted the series into a successful game franchise.* As they say, though, better late than never.

The book begins with Geralt on the trail of his erstwhile protege Ciri, the prophesied "destroyer of worlds." She is also being pursued by agents of the Nilfgaardian Empire, who seek to marry her off to the Emperor; renegade sorcerer Vilgefortz and his henchman, Bonhart, who seek to harness her power for their own nefarious ends; and the Lodge of Sorceresses, who seek to restore a balance of power between the Empire and the Northern kingdoms (presently in the midst of a cataclysmic war). Ciri enters the Tower of the Swallow and promptly disappears...

...and ends up in an Elven dimension that exists in parallel not only to the Witcher's world, but also to our own. The elves have their own designs on Ciri, namely, to give birth to the child that will restore elven greatness. She escapes, with the help of interdimensional telepathic unicorns, who help Ciri discover that her true gift is, essentially, the power to melt spacetime.

Yes, you read all that correctly.

Once back in the real world (not ours, but the Witcher's), the main actors in this drama begin to converge on Stygga Castle, where Vilgefortz holds both Ciri and Yennefer captive. As this unfolds, the Imperial and Northern armies meet in a battle so intense and bloody that it makes the Blackwater look like a back alley slap fight. I'd say more, but you really should just read the damned thing.

The Lady of the Lake is an immensely gratifying yet deeply unnerving conclusion to the series. There are moments when it is touching, romantic, funny and just plain fun. At others, it is unbearably sad and utterly terrifying. It is a deeply political book, as I've discussed earlier. Sapkowski deconstructs the archetypes of good and evil that Tolkein modeled for the genre, but without resort to the tired "everyone is terrible" canard. Racism plays a central role in the narrative, as does misogyny. In both cases, it feels like Sapkowski is way ahead of the curve for 2017; then you remember that these books were written 15 years ago.

Another appealing element of the book, and the series, is the moral ambiguity of its powerholders. Nilfgaard is an oppressive, autocratic and megalomaniacal power; yet the Northern kingdoms--which would be coded as "Western" (and thus "good") in traditional fantasy, are monstrously violent and cruel places, where nonhumans are forced to live in ghettoes where they are defenseless against pogroms and other, more mundane indignities. Meanwhile, the Elven Scoia'tael, who resist by force of arms, are straight-up terrorists who seemingly take joy from violence against defenseless civilians. Does this dynamic sound familiar? It sure does to me.

Sapkowski clearly draws from the darker side of Polish and European history, using his fantasy setting to explore various aspects of human behavior (sociological, psychological, etc.) in a strikingly sophisticated manner. Like I said, this is a smart book.

The Lady of the Lake is not, however, the kind of monotonically grim fantasy that has proliferated over the past decade. There is goodness in the world, as well as in all but the very worst actors in this drama. And people surprise you--just when you think you've got things figured out, someone does something unexpected. It may be an unexpected kindness from a character who has hitherto appeared cold and calculating; or someone Geralt or Ciri came to trust demonstrates why trust, in this world, should be conferred selectively.

The overarching theory, then, isn't that the world that is inherently dark and foreboding, and human nature irredeemable in the face of naked self-interest. Rather, it is of corruption by ignorance, jealousy and the pursuit of power, and redemption through personal bonds of friendship, love and loyalty. These are timeless concepts, and by no means original to the series; yet they are striking nonetheless, by virtue of their flawless execution, and the degree to which we come to care about what happens to Geralt, Ciri, Yennefer and the others.

The Lady of the Lake is also stylistically daring. As in The Tower of the Swallow, narratives are often fragmented across several timelines and character perspectives. However, it works better this time. The epic Battle of Brenna shifts between the perspectives of various combatants, and the doctor running a field hospital in its midst. Throughout Sapkowski intersperses vignettes, often centered on peripheral characters, which themselves may link back to events occurring elsewhere. Keeping everything straight can be a challenge, but when the book concludes, the payoff is considerable.

The book ends on a curious note, which I will not mention. But suffice to say it raises as many questions as it provides answers. I have my theories, but will have to read the cycle again in order to see how they are borne out.

I could go on, but in the interests of brevity, let me just say this: The Lady of the Lake is, without any doubt, the best and most profound fantasy novel I have ever read. It is hard to put down, yet also a challenging and deeply rewarding book. And it is genuinely moving. I have never read a fantasy series like this, and suspect I never will again.

*Note: the games have a different plot from the books. It has been suggested that they are a sequel to or alternate version of the Saga, though Sapkowski says this is not possible.


The Math

Baseline Assessment: 10/10.

Bonuses: None. You can't top perfection.

Penalties: None.

Nerd Coefficient: 10/10. "Mind-blowing/life-changing."

***

POSTED BY: The G--purveyor of nerdliness, genre fanatic and Nerds of a Feather founder/administrator, since 2012.

Reference: Sapkowski, Andrzej. The Lady of the Lake [Orbit/Gollancz, 2017]

Tabletop Pile of Shame: New Year's Resolution Update

Moving forward I need to make all of my New Year's Resolutions board game related.  One of my
resolutions this year was to play 10 games from my pile of shame and I am happy to report that I am writing my third entry in this series and have crossed the half-way point!

In my first entry I played Abyss and Colt Express, my second entry featured Carrotia and Codenames, and I am pleased to report that my third entry features Just Desserts and Machi Koro: Bright Lights, Big City.  Hopefully I will be able to chime in soon that I have played games number seven and eight.

Machi Koro: Bright Lights, Big City by Pandasaurus Games -If you have read any of my board game related posts then you should be aware that my family and I are a big fan of the Machi Koro series.  I have included it previous holiday guides and feel that it should be on everyone's shelf.  It is, in my opinion, the best gateway game on the market.  About a year ago I saw that Target had an exclusive version of Machi Koro and was curious, but was good with our current copy and expansions.  Bright Lights, Big City is no longer exclusive to Target and should be available at your FLGS.  Even though I never planned on picking up a new version of Machi Koro, I heard in various gaming groups and from some friends that this was the definitive version of Machi Koro.  After having a copy for a few months, I decided to give it a whirl with my 9 year old son and we instantly fell in love it.  It takes all of the good elements from the expansions, eliminates some of the cards that can get overpowered, and introduces some new elements to provide a quicker, more polished Machi Koro experience.  The experience reminds me of the first time I played the base game with the Harbor expansion.  Bright Lights, Big City randomizes what cards are available, but organizes them in a way to provide a balanced pool of cards to select from.  It also introduces the third dice, which is an absolute game changer.  Some people are bothered by randomization, which I feel Machi Koro hedged effectively from the beginning, and the Moon Tower grants you even more control.  It also allows you to pretend that you are in Dazed and Confused and that everything is alright, alright, alright.

Just Desserts by Looney Labs - My wife got this game for Christmas and it sadly collected dust on my pile of shame for nearly six months.  I had heard this was a light card game that was a good filler, and I thought that she would enjoy the dessert theme.  In the game, you assume the role of a server trying to provide desserts to your guests.  There are a series of guests of different suits with dietary needs, and you collect cards on your turn to try to gather the necessary ingredients to serve them up a tasty treat.  There are bonuses if you have the specific dish they are looking for, and you can try to focus on one particular suit of guests or serve a variety of hungry patrons.  Just Desserts is a good filler game that is appropriate for the entire family.  I would recommend it if your family is just starting to get into the hobby or are looking for a quick game to take on the road or play during a busy game night.

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

Reading the Hugos: Novelette

Welcome to another edition of Reading the Hugos! Today we're going to take a look at the Novelettes, a category which none of the stories I nominated made the final ballot. Of course, this is as good of a time as any to note that I only nominated one story (Matt Wallace's "Small Wars") and the odds were not in my favor.

I'll get a bit more into this when I talk about the specific story in question, but Novelette is the only category this year which includes a finalist from the Rabid Puppy Slate (see here for the slate and the impact) put there with the sole purpose of the slaters being dicks and attempting to embarrass Worldcon and people who care about the Hugo Awards. I almost described this as a "troll job", but the Rabid Puppies, but I didn't want to gild the lily. They're being dicks, and deliberately so. Most of the Rabid Puppy nominations were self serving: Castalia House works, authors, editors, blogs, and friends of the movement. Then, there are some works that could have (and perhaps would have) made the ballot without any help: China Mieville, Neil Gaiman, Deadpool. Finally, there is Alien Stripper Boned From Behind by the T-Rex, by Stix Hiscock - because the Rabid Puppies just can't have enough dinosaur porn when they decide to urinate in someone else's pool because they just can't let some things go.

Anyway, on to the stories!


Alien Stripper Boned From Behind By The T-Rex, by Stix Hiscock (self-published)
“The Art of Space Travel”, by Nina Allan (Tor.com, July 2016)
The Jewel and Her Lapidary, by Fran Wilde (Tor.com, May 2016)
“The Tomato Thief”, by Ursula Vernon (Apex Magazine, January 2016)
“Touring with the Alien”, by Carolyn Ives Gilman (Clarkesworld Magazine, April 2016)
“You’ll Surely Drown Here If You Stay”, by Alyssa Wong (Uncanny Magazine, May 2016)


Alien Stripper Boned From Behind By The T-Rex: It isn't quite fair to talk about Alien Stripper Bone From Behind by the T-Rex as to how it relates to a story on the Hugo ballot last year, but in this case I think it is pertinent. Last year the Rabid Puppies were were responsible for getting Chuck Tingle's Space Raptor Butt Invasion on the ballot in the Short Story category for no better reason than they wanted to embarrass the folks who care about the Hugo Awards by nominating science fiction dinosaur porn. It mostly backfired due to Chuck Tingle's delightful response and continued trolling of the Rabid Puppies (though the story remaining on the ballot will be a stain on the history of the Hugo Awards). So - they tried again this year with more science fiction dinosaur porn and once again managed to get it on the ballot. This isn't award worthy science fiction by anyone's definition. I could make an argument that in the other categories the Rabid Puppies managed to place a finalist, they do honestly think the work is strong and worthy, but given that they've repeatedly stated they don't care about the Hugo Awards, I know that's not necessarily the case. But this, this is another stain on the Hugo Awards because in twenty years when people who have no idea who the Rabid Puppies were or why they possibly mattered for a blip of time look at the past finalists to see what people thought were some of the best stories of 2016, "Alien Stripped Boned From Behind By The T-Rex" will be there. I don't know that it is bad story for the erotica it is intended to be. I'm not the audience for it, so I can't judge it on its own merits in its intended sphere. But as a science fiction story and a finalist for the Hugo Award? Sigh.

No Award: As a general rule, I use No Award in a very surgical manner. I understand that not every work is to my personal taste and that simply because I do not like something does not mean that it is inherently bad or unworthy of a Hugo Award. I may prefer that something else would win and that a particular work was not on the ballot, but again, that does make the work bad. Unfortunately, there are also instances where my subjective view is that the work is so bad that it is also objectively bad and unworthy of receiving (or being considered for) an award. There may also be examples of a work being so bad it comes out the other side and is somehow entertaining.  In both of these instances No Award will be used.

The Jewel and Her Lapidary: I had previously read The Jewel and Her Lapidary as part of my reading of all everything put out by Tor.com Publishing and, as short as this is, I put the book down after only a few pages. Nothing about the tone and the writing connected and it felt like a complete waste. Had I left it there, this would have been listed behind No Award. Given a second chance, I appreciated the story a whole lot more. I think my failed first attempt was a situation of picking up the book at the wrong time. This time was better, though not nearly on the level of any of the other legitimate finalists on this ballot. I don't quite understand the adulation for The Jewel and Her Lapidary.

Touring with the Alien: Want to take an alien on a road trip? How about an alien that is intelligent, but not conscious? How about with the alien's translator, who is human but is also almost a separate species? There's a lot of cool stuff in this story and it was a near thing whether I was going to place "Touring with the Alien" just above "The Tomato Thief" or just after. What I most appreciated about "Touring with the Alien" is how the alien was treated as something completely "alien", as something completely other an incomprehensible. It also helps that because of this, we are always left wondering if perhaps the aliens really is conscious and making more nefarious plans and is using humanity.

The Tomato Thief: The world needs far more Grandma Harken in it (she was also in "Jackalope Wives". "The Tomato Thief" lives on the voice and the character of Grandma Harken, a woman who has seen and done it all and she's had enough of whoever is stealing her tomatoes - except discovering the culprit opens up an entirely different adventure where Grandma Harken tries to improve someone else's situation. It's a journey through a fascinating mythology. Vernon's writing is so smooth and her command of Harken's voice is so strong that every moment spent with Harken is an absolute delight. I could have happily spent a full novella with Harken.

The Art of Space Travel: This is a story of family and history and one woman finally understanding who her father is. Some thirty years after a failed manned mission to Mars, a second mission is about to launch. Two of the astronauts are staying at the hotel Emily works at. The Mars mission is more of a framing device for the story, but it forms the a push for Emily to think more deeply about her family's past. Her mother was an investigator for the tragedy of the first mission and she wonders if her father might have been one of the astronauts who died. But, perhaps that is just the wish for one's father to be more important and to have had a better reason to have stayed away. "The Art of Space Travel" may be light on speculative elements, but it is a simply excellent story.

You'll Surely Drown Here If You Stay: With only nine published stories to her name I do not hesitate to say that Alyssa Wong is one of the best short story writers working today. "You'll Surely Drown Here If You Stay" puts a stamp on that burgeoning legacy. This is a story of the West, of the desert, of a deep friendship, of identity, of family, and of an intense magic that draws visitors from out of town with questionable intentions. With Wong's note perfect prose and storytelling, the reader is drawn in deep to this raw and tense story. This is the best story in an overall strong category.


My Ballot
1. You'll Surely Drown Here If You Stay
2. The Art of Space Travel
3. The Tomato Thief
4. Touring with the Alien
5. The Jewel and Her Lapidary
6. No Award


Our previous coverage:
Novella 
Short Story
Graphic Story


POSTED BY: Joe Sherry - Co-editor of Nerds of a Feather, 2017 Hugo Award Finalist for Best Fanzine. Writer / Editor of the mostly defunct Adventures in Reading since 2004. Minnesotan.

Checking in on Twin Peaks, or, Chillin' in the Black Lodge

​Not sure if you've heard, but Twin Peaks is back.

I was too young to watch the original run of the show, but I remember the phenomenon. "Who killed Laura Palmer?" was the question everybody was asking in 1990. As it turned out, David Lynch and Mark Frost had never intended to answer that question, but the network made them when ratings started to slip in Season 2. Once the question was answered, the show got pretty bad, actually. Ask David Lynch.

I've now watched the original series twice. I love David Lynch. As a former Surrealist myself, or, someone who played a Surrealist in real life (it's complicated), I think Lynch has come closer than anybody since Luis Buñuel to capturing the mechanics of dreaming on film. So my favorite pieces of the original series were the Black Lodge visits, and the weird, paranormal stuff. Disappearing giants and film run backwards and one-armed men. Great stuff. The teen romance and weird soap opera machinations and insurance fraud? Less so.

So the original series had about 18 great episodes out of the run of 30. And Fire Walk with Me is a little uneven, but still chilling and disturbing. So what would a return to Twin Peaks for 18 new episodes bring after 25 years? The good? The bad? The both?

Five episodes in (no spoilers here, promise), I'm still more curious than hooked, but I have to say that David Lynch doesn't disappoint when it comes to delivering the David Lynch goods. There's a lot more Black Lodge, and hints at other inter-dimensional places, too. Premium cable allows for a lot more sudden, bloody David Lynch violence that's familiar from his film work but absent from the original show. There are other Lynch signatures, too, like long, awkward stillnesses and silence, jarring sound design, oddballs, and confounding mysteries. Knowing that Lynch and Frost never intended to wrap up the Laura Palmer mystery, I'm not convinced we're going to see many of these new mysteries actually resolve. But that's probably ok, too. What the hell is up with the Cowboy in Mulholland Dr.? I don't know. Doesn't change how much I like the movie.

What makes me deeply happy is that the guy who made Eraserhead from 1972 to 1977, getting about a shot a day, using real umbilical cords (among other human and animal viscera) as props, definitely made this show. That's really a hell of a thing. All those Lynch signatures I mentioned above, and the pattern on the floor of the Black Lodge, come to that, are all on display in Lynch's first film. That he has evolved as an artist and storyteller, without compromising his idiosyncrasies, and while somehow simultaneously finding a way to make mainstream entertainment is probably unprecedented, and, as a fan, it's a wonderful thing to see and experience.

The canvas Lynch is painting on in the new Twin Peaks is vast. We've been to both Washingtons, a Dakota, Vegas, and at least two nearby dimensions. We don't know what connects all these places, but if you're on the fence about tuning in (I know, nobody "tunes in" anymore), or if the total media saturation leading up to the premiere didn't get you to sign up for Showtime, I have to recommend taking the ride. No promises where it ends will give you closure, but it's definitely worth investigating.

Finally, since it's been stuck in my head for at least a week now, I leave you with the Lady in the Radiator song.

Posted by Vance K — cult film reviewer and co-editor of nerds of a feather, flock together since 2012, Emmy-winning producer, and musician.

Thursday Morning Superhero

Some of the San Diego Comic Con exclusives have been announced and once again Funko is bringing the heat.  A much demanded Pop!, Princess Leia is getting the holographic treatment in a stunning two-pack.  Really hoping to make it to the booth in time to pick up this amazing set.  Enough toy talk, huuuuuge week of comics!

Pick of the Week:
Baby Teeth #1 - I was introduced to Donny Cates' work with Redneck, which is amazing, so I was excited when I heard he had a new titles coming out about the birth of the Antichrist.  The story opens with a scared mother, Sadie, recording a video to her child.  It tells the story of his birth, which included earthquakes, a near death experience for Sadie, and that this devil incarnate is named after a superhero. This comic, while the story of how the Antichrist was brought to this planet, still remained as a beautiful story of new life.  I am looking forward to learning more about how Sadie ended up where she is and the life of the young devil.

The Rest:
The Unsound #1 - Cullen Bunn treats us with a creepy new title set in some sort of haunted psychiatric ward.  At least it appears to be haunted through the eyes of Ashli, the new nurse who has a horrifying first day in the ward.  In what felt like the pre-credits scene to a psychological thriller, the first issue leaves you begging for more.  I am quite intrigued by this new title and anything that is scary and has Bunn's name attached to it is likely to be quite good.  Mix in the unique artistic approach from Jack T. Cole and you are introduced to a world that is beautiful from one angle and paralyzing from the other.


Paper Girls #15 - The girls learn the hard way not to mess with the time space continuum when they are compelled to help their new friend save her child.  We learn a bit more about the foldings, or time holes, that brought the girls into the past.  This was one of the more exciting issues as of late that resulted in overhearing something called "The Beta" that sounds very exciting (some sort of time fixer) and the girls are dropped into a surprising future.  I will avoid spoilers, but it gave me flashbacks and was terribly exciting.

All-new Guardians of the Galaxy #3 - It isn't surprising that I am really enjoying this series penned by Gerry Duggan.  In this issue we learn more about the secret that Gamora is holding back from the rest of the crew.  Still no word on why Drax gave up destroying, but the wrinkle that is Gamora's secret is a very interesting development.  This issue didn't have the trademark Duggan humor, but it was a stellar issue that has me fully invested in where this series is headed.  I can't recommend this one enough to anyone who enjoyed the films.  Being that this is issue #3, it would be easy to get caught up and pick up the other two issues as well.



Daredevil #21 -  Now that we know how Daredevil was able to make the entire world forget his secret identity, it is back to the usual crime fighting in Hell's Kitchen.  The start of a new arc, this issue felt like a throw back to Silver Age comics and is extremely effective for the man with no fear.   We even get a Toucan Sam reference thrown in for good measure!  The art and color from Goran Sudzuka and Matt Milla is phenomenal and has a retro feel that feels like a fresh start for Daredevil.  In addition to the classic crime stopping that takes place, Charles Soule gives us a tease as to why Daredevil wanted to put the cat back in the bag and I am a bit nervous about his plan.

Batman #24 - This issue is the straw that broke the camel's back for me.  Tom King has had his ups and downs, in my opinion, writing this series and this issue reached the point where I am comfortable dropping this series.  He had big shoes to fill, but even Scott Snyder had a couple of lackluster arcs in his amazing run.  I weathered it as long as I could and I am sure a lot of readers are enjoying his take, but it isn't for me.  If you have any suggestions as to what Batman series you recommend please drop me a note in the comments.  I won't spoil the moment that solidified it for me, but a quick Google on this issue should let you know if you don't care about spoilers.



The Walking Dead #168 - As we close the book on one chapter we open the door to what is next.  I am not sure what that will be in this series, but Robert Kirkman really delivered a touching issue that somehow brought up Negan's foot fetish.  The fine line between what Negan spews and the rest of what Rick and company are dealing with after the loss of Andrea works really well in this issue.  Negan has almost reached the point where you feel that you can trust him and that he is an asset for Rick and his crew.  It is a shocking development that will likely lead to the rug being pulled out from beneath my feet and I am looking forward to it.  The final panel was extremely powerful and moving and a somber reminder that this series is still a human drama at its heart, not a zombie book.



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