Archive for category Short Fiction

Geektastic, edited by Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci (Little, Brown and Company, 2009)

Feb 9

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, LGBTQ Interest, Science Fiction, Short Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult | No Comments

My name is Michael, and, to no one’s surprise, I am a geek. While the manner in which I express my geekitude has changed over the years, from theatre, to writing, to gaming, I’ve always embraced my geekdom. And so I have to say, this is the book I wish I’d had in high school. I really, really wish this anthology had existed back then. Because this book is full of pure whimsical awesomeness, and is a celebration of all things geek. Black and Castellucci have assembled an all-star cast, and encouraged each and every one of them to let their passions and their freak flags fly proudly.

While it’s easy to point at almost any story here and say it’s an excellent piece of work, there are a few which really stand out. First and foremost is Black and Castellucci’s own “Once You’re A Jedi, You’re A Jedi All The Way,” in which a Klingon and a Jedi meet at a convention, have a little too much to drink, and well … the Jets and the Sharks have nothing on Trekkies and Star Wars fans. Can a cross-universe affair work out, or will someone go to the Dark Side? I love the characters, and the situation is both absurd and believable.

Tracy Lynn’s “One Of Us,” about a cheerleader who pays the AV Club to teach her to speak geek in order to impress a guy, is somewhat more predictable in how it turns out, but it’s the good kind of predictable, where you totally root for the characters anyway, and want to see a happy ending. (Hmmm, seems to me this would make a great movie.) It’s a story that really speaks to the importance of owning your passion, whether it’s science fiction, fantasy, or classic romance flicks.

Cassandra Clare’s “I Never” explores the potential for trouble that arises when members of an online roleplaying community meet up in real life … and not everyone lives up to their electronic persona.

Devid Levithan’s “Quiz Bowl Antichrist” shows that just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you have all the answers, while some situations don’t have any answers at all.

Lisa Yee demonstrates that geekery comes in every form, such as baton twirling, in “Everyone But You.” I guess it shows my own geek bias that until now, I’d have sniffed at baton twirling, but here, we see that it’s all a matter of perspective.

Sadly, one story which stands out, does so not because it’s good, but because it’s kind of disturbing. Barry Lyga (an author I love to read, by the way), turns in a strange tale of revenge in “The Truth About Dino Girl.” It’s a cautionary tale: don’t mess with the geeks or bully the outcasts, because you never know when one of them will snap and find a way to ruin your life, but it’s still a fairly ugly piece when you think about actions and consequences. Compared to the other stories, it’s a disharmonious note.

Back to something a bit more reassuring, Wendy Mass’ “The Stars At The Finish Line” is a quirky tale of competition, romance, and astronomy. Here’s another story with sympathetic, believable characters, great chemistry, and a feel-good ending.

Naturally, no collection of geekery would be complete without a Rocky Horror story, and Libba Bray’s “It’s Just A Jump To The Left” satisfies that need, and more.

Scattered between the stories are a number of comic strips, further exploring various aspects of geekdom, written by Black and Castellucci, and alternately drawn by Hope Larson and Bryan Lee O’Malley. These add just that much more flavor to the overall excellent feel of the anthology, and make it truly worth the price of admission. Whether you’re into art, cheerleading, science, theater, science fiction, fantasy, or trivia contests, the message remains the same: embrace that which makes you happy and interesting, stand tall in the face of those who’d mock you, and have fun.

Man, I really could have used this book back then, but I’m damned glad it exists now.

Tags: Bonus Review

Warrior Wisewoman, by Roby James (Norilana Books, 2008)

Jul 26

Posted by Michael M. Jones in LGBTQ Interest, Science Fiction, Short Fiction | No Comments

Meant in part as a science fiction companion to the long-running (and recently-resurrected) fantasy anthology series Sword and Sorceress, Warrior Wisewoman is . . . well, a complex creature, if one reads the note of explanation in the back. There, publisher Vera Nazarian says that not only is Warrior Wisewoman meant to serve as a counterpart for Sword and Sorceress, containing science fiction stories featuring strong female characters, it’s also meant to contain adult themes for a more mature audience, and present “action and adventure hinging on the sense of wonder that comes from both the scientific exploration of the universe all around us and the spiritual exploration of the other equally grand universe that lies inside.” Whew, sounds like a tall order to me. Initially, I figured that the logical science fiction companion to something like Sword and Sorceress would involve rocketships, rayguns, and bug-eyed aliens, only with strong female protagonists . . . space opera meets Ripley from Aliens, basically. Instead, it seems that editor Roby James has gone for something far different. I wanted to make that clear up front. What you’ll find here is not “classic” science fiction, and certainly not the feminine (or feminist) flipside to Heinlein, Asimov, or E.E. “Doc” Smith. It’s introspective, spiritual, experimental, and in some cases downright oblique. But does the collection work? Let’s take a closer look at some of the stories.

Douglas A. Van Belle turns in “Ungraceful Cliff Dwellers,” which is all about how a semi-primitive society deals with their God, a rather active and somewhat fallible being who makes frequent appearances in their lives to guide and teach them. As the protagonist continues her association with God, she learns more than any before her ever have about why her people exist, and their role in the universe. It’s an interesting story that gradually unfolds over time, but it seems to lack a little something by way of description, leaving things in a nebulous state of existence. It’s a rather cerebral story, featuring long conversations and a measure of character growth, but no action or adventure to speak of.

Rose Lemberg’s “To Find Home Again” suffers from some of that same lack of explanation, as it follows Ria, a woman who seems to be part soldier, part slave, able to fight as needed but otherwise subject to the whims and needs of her Master and his fellow crew. An ill-advised mission leads her to an unexpected detour in her career, and she’s subsequently forced to reclaim her sense of self and identity. I can’t help but wish Lemberg had opted for a little more exposition and a little less introspection, as I was never really caught up in the trials and tribulations of the main character.

Bhaskar Dutt gives us a rather strong story in “An Ashwini Apart,” which looks at the intertwined tales of Charunee and Isabella. As Ashwini, genetically-engineered pairs who can manipulate peoples’ life energy (ki) to heal or harm, they’re nothing without their opposite half — usually their own twin. Charunee and Isabella have lost their twins, but can they match up with one another to reach their potential? As the story progresses, it becomes clear that one or both may be hiding secrets. There’s a fascinating concept at play, here, and Dutt does a lovely job of showing things from two different viewpoints as he explores the mystery at the heart of the story.

In Fran LaPlaca’s “Faith,” a career soldier lands in a small community with her squadron, intent on doing some recruiting for the Navy. However, this planet has discovered an unusual sort of religion. What’s going on? The truth may be too painful to accept. An interesting story with a slow start, it builds to an emotional climax. I’d be interested in seeing more of the characters and background introduced here.

“Among The Wastes Of Time,” by Mary Catelli, is another one of the stronger offerings in this collection, though the transitions between past and present are occasionally confusing and awkward. However, we’re treated to a poignant, powerful story as one woman weighs the letter of the law versus the greater good. On the space station she calls home, an alien simply known as The Last, so-called for being the only one remaining of its species, has priority in any and all emergency situations, no matter who might suffer in its place. Does the last of a species deserve special treatment when dozens of regular people are in jeopardy? It’s up to April to make the hard call that no one else can, or will. With an intriguing setting, and a genuine moral dilemma at stake, this story is thought-provoking and complex.

The protagonist of Peg Robinson’s “As Darwin Decreed” faces a similar problem. A geneticist, she possesses the knowledge and desire to help humans adapt to an alien planet, but the rules in place prevent her from doing so, no matter who might suffer and die in the meantime. However, when a native species faces problems due to the presence of humans, it all comes down to a choice: us or them. Can she defy authority to find a third option? It’s not easy to do the right thing when the right thing is illegal. Another thought-provoking story about the hard choices we all face, it’s interesting that both this and Catelli’s story feature mothers who’ve lost their children as a result of the problem they must now solve.

“Christmas Wedding,” by Vylar Kaftan, takes place in the near future, after ecological and economic disasters have helped to plunge the world into chaos. However, life continues for some people. For Mel, Corie, and Rayvenna, nothing will stop the three women from uniting their lives in an unorthodox wedding, as a symbol of life, love, and hope. But they’ve all been hurt, mentally or physically, in the months preceding . . . can they really forge a life together? This is another one of those intellectual, emotional, spiritual stories that relies more on character than on action or adventure, and the post-apocalyptic setting is really just stage dressing for this piece on relationships and overcoming the odds.

In Sally Kuntz’ “Only A Personal Tragedy,” a young woman sacrifices everything for peace, when war comes to her home. Is she strong enough to go against her friends and family and community in order to save their lives, or will she buckle under the weight of betraying them? It may cost her more than she expects. This story’s bound to raise questions of right and wrong, treason and justice, but the science fiction setting is fairly irrelevant to the narrative as a whole.

Other authors in this collection include Catherine Mintz, Nancy Fulda, Anna Sykora, and Colleen Anderson. All in all, this is definitely a mixed bag of stories. Roby James was shooting for a blend, answering the twin questions of “What makes a woman a warrior?” and “What makes a woman wise?” and in that respect, I suppose she might have been successful. However, very few of these stories really grabbed me emotionally. Perhaps it’s just not that they appealed to my sensibilities, perhaps it’s a fundamental difference between male and female mindsets, perhaps it’s something impossible to define. Technically, this collection is competent, with a few stand-outs to really capture the attention, but overall, I fear that the theme may be just a little too esoteric, a little too specialized to find widespread appeal. I’ll be interested to see how future volumes in this series fare.

Tags: Green Man Review

Wild Cards: Inside Straight, edited by George R.R. Martin (Tor, 2008)

Jul 22

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Science Fiction, Short Fiction, Superheroes | No Comments

Sixty years ago, the world was transformed by the accidental release of a deadly alien virus over New York City, which forever altered the human potential. For most who contract Xenovirus Takis-A, also known as the wild card, all they can expect is a swift, painful, horrible death. Most of those who survive are horribly deformed, twisted by their subconscious and the virus’ power into hideous Jokers. Maybe one in a hundred comes out ahead, gifted with amazing superpowers, and able to claim the heady title of Ace. For six decades, Aces and Jokers have made their mark on society, for better and worse. They’ve been heroes and villains, gods and devils, prophets and terrorists, victims and saviors. And now, in the new millenium, a new generation of wild cards has come into its own. These are the children of a new era, the ones who have never known anything but a wild card world, the ones to whom the initial outbreak and the chaotic years that followed are dusty bits of history. Not only do they have no idea what the Al Jolson Story is, they barely know who the tragic Jetboy was. For this generation, Aces and Jokers are just another part of society.

And in 2008, a new reality show is about to make its grand debut: American Hero, in which 28 Aces compete to see who’ll be the next great hero and pop culture icon. From all corners of the country they’ve come, full of vim and vigor, fire and energy, ready to split into teams and compete in elimination challenges. They control fire and earth, plants and wind, insects and kinetic energy, can transform themselves or fly, can heal any wound or lift great weights, and they all have one thing in common: a desire to be the next American Hero.

Divided into four teams, one for each suit of cards, these superhuman men and women battle the tasks set by the network, and try to outwit one another. As the game is played, more and more of these would-be heroes and media stars will be eliminated, leaving only the clever, the bold, and the manipulative to fight it out for the title of American Hero.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, the startling assassination of a major religious figure touches off chaos, and the beginnings of an Egyptian wild card genocide. Before long, some of the American Hero contestants, chafing at the artificiality of the show and driven to make a difference in the world, travel to Egypt in a daring, dangerous attempt to do some good. It’s here, in the face of real evil, with real death looming overhead, that they’ll be tested, weighed, and measured. With the entire world watching, who will become an American Hero, and who will become real heroes?

Inside Straight, like many of the Wild Cards books that came before it, is a mosiac novel: nine authors, each contributing stories, interstitial segments, and background material that all comes together to form one narrative. A strange cross between an anthology and a collaboration, it’s a complex piece of work, made all the more so for its ambitious plotline and sprawling cast of dozens. As such, it’s hard to pick apart the book by story or by author, not when each story builds upon the previous ones, and points of view shift and tone shift frequently. However, I can say this to start: it’s damned good. These authors have turned out a wide variety of new characters to populate the Wild Cards universe, many of them intriguing, all of them unusual. And while I confess to missing the “old school” Wild Cards, such as Popinjay, the Sleeper, Dr. Tachyon, Cap’n Trips, or my personal favorite, the Great and Powerful Turtle, I really hope we’ll see more of this new generation. Jonathan Hive, the journalist who can turn into a swarm of wasps, makes for a great viewpoint character, while The Amazing Bubbles, who converts kinetic energy into fat and then into explosive bubbles, is a sweet breath of fresh air.

Rustbelt, the iron-skinned Ace with a steam-shovel jaw, is wonderfully pragmatic and practical, and we can all recognize that drive to succeed that makes us occasionally do stupid things with Stuntman, who takes a licking and bounces back for more. It’s a shame there’s not more room, to give some of the other characters their time in the sun, since only a handful get fleshed out during the course of the story. For those who survive this story, let’s hope some of the others will take center stage next time.

The plot itself is as sprawling and thoughtful as usual, taking the idea of a world filled with superhumans, and following several thoughts to their logical conclusion. When the series first came out, reality shows were nowhere near as ubiqituous, but in the era of Survivor and American Idol (and Who Wants To Be A Superhero?) it makes perfect sense that in the Wild Cards universe, Aces would get a reality competition of their own. (I can see it now. . . . Who Wants To Marry An Ace? Extreme Makeover: Joker Edition. The Real World: Jokertown.) And of course, as usual, America’s fascination with pop culture blinds it to the all-too-real tragedies and atrocities and conflicts going on elsewhere in the world . . . that is, until a combination of events lure some of the would-be superstars into a situation where they can’t ignore it any longer. Watching as fake heroes become real heroes, fighting and suffering and overcoming their flaws along the way, that’s what makes for a great story.

The nine authors who had a hand in putting this story together all have their individual strengths and weaknesses, but overall, they mesh well together. Daniel Abraham’s interstitual segments, told from the viewpoint of Jonathan Hive (in part through Hive’s blog) help to maintain a sense of continuity and progression as the other stories leap back and forth between characters and events, showing the backstage and onscreen details of the American Hero competition. Carrie Vaughn looks at the story from the view point of Ana “Earth Witch” Cortez, a young woman still learning just what the limits of her powers might be. Michael Cassut introduces us to Jamal “Stuntman” Norwood, whose competitive spirit could win him the game, but cost him a lot of respect. Caroline Spector focuses upon things from the viewpoint of Michelle “The Amazing Bubbles” LaFleur, who struggles with her growing attraction to one of her teammates, while trying to hide a dark secret.

John Jos. Miller actually brings back an established character in the form of John Fortune, son of the famous Peregrine and infamous Fortunato and an Ace in his own right, until his powers burned out after nearly destroying the world. It’s John’s experiences which actually spark the journey from Hollywood to Egypt, as a decades-old plan finally comes to fruition. George R.R. Martin’s protagonist isn’t even part of the competition. Instead, Lohengrin is a German Ace who fancies himself a new form of crusading hero, a knight in gleaming armor. Ian Tregillis follows the story through the eyes of Wally “Rustbelt” Gunderson, who ultimately asks himself just what the right thing is, and what it means to be a hero. It’s his experiences which heavily influence the course of action taken by a number of characters throughout the last third of the book.

Proving that not all protagonists have to be heroes at heart, S. L. Farrell gives us Michael “Drummer Boy” Vogali, a Joker-Ace rock star who’s in it for the publicity and the women. His choices, however ill-considered and poorly played-out, nevertheless take him along a path of possible redemption. Melinda Snodgrass links the overall narrative together with several stories that shed further light upon the mechinations behind the scenes, utilizing several characters including the flamboyant, charming, and all too deadly stage magician, Noel Matthews, who knows far more than he’s letting on.

From the soundstages of Hollywood, to the blood-soaked sands of Egypt, Inside Straight provides a fresh look at the world of the Wild Cards, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve loved this series since it first started, and this book strikes just the right balance between optimism and pragmatism. Yes, there’s a lot of violence and some characters do die, but on the whole, there’s a somewhat upbeat, hopeful feel to the story. Some of the later Wild Cards books really did seem to lay the doom, gloom, and bloodshed on pretty thick, but Inside Straight gives us some great characters who don’t necessarily get horribly abused for a change. I’d like to think that this book is the perfect jumping on point for a whole new generation of readers, and the perfect welcome back to long-time fans. I was thoroughly satisfied with this entry in the series, and I’ll be waiting eagerly for the next installment. The only thing that could have improved Inside Straight would have been a guest appearance by the Sleeper, but I guess he was taking a nap this time around.

Oh, and for those wanting more of the background, I’m pleased to say, there’s a pair of Web sites dedicated to the Wild Cards saga, and this book in particular, which actually feature character profiles, artwork, and in-character “confessionals” granting some insight into the less-featured contestants on the show. I love getting to see what some of the stranger characters look like. As the Web site updated over the course of several months, following the progression of the show, week by week, it took on a life of its own. Even with the “season” over and the Web site no longer updating, it’s still a fascinating resource and expansion to the book. This site focuses upon the series as a whole, and is quite interesting in its own right. Check them out.

Tags: Green Man Review

Who Can Save Us Now? by Owen King and John McNally (Free Press, 2008)

Jul 22

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Science Fiction, Short Fiction, Superheroes | No Comments

When I sat down to try and describe this anthology, I found myself at a loss for words. I tried to be witty, but nothing was working. I tried to be ironic, but that failed. I even tried to be dry and boring, but nothing came to mind. In the end, I decided, I might as well go for honesty. Who Can Save Us Now? is a collection of superhero stories, as written by what some might call “literary” writers, and by that, I mean that very few of them are what I’d consider to be household names. Looking at a list of over 20 names, I recognize a mere handful, including Graham Joyce, Jennifer Weiner, and David Yoo. None of them are known for tackling science fiction and fantasy, nor for comic books, and yet here they are, offering up their takes on superheroes and supervillains, aiming to create modern myths for a much more ambiguous, conflicted era. And the results are … well, I’m not going to leave you hanging in suspense. The results are mixed, and unusual. For those looking for four-color action and adventure, or bigscreen excitement, prepare to be disappointed. For those looking for literary entertainment, you’ll find plenty here to consider. But let’s look at some of the stories, shall we?

Stephanie Harrell looks at one particular superhero through the eyes of an outsider, in “Girl Reporter.” Like the quantum particles in the Heisenberg Principle, her hero is changed through the act of being observed, changing to fit expectations and losing his original identity in the process. There’s clearly some sort of Superman/Lois Lane commentary going on here, but it comes off as a bit dry and disassociated to really connect with the reader.

Sam Weller’s “The Quick Stop 5″ is a tongue-in-cheek tale, one of the closest this book comes to actual superheroics, and even then it falls a little short. When five employees at a convenience store/truck stop in Iowa are bathed in iodisel fumes, they gain amazing abilities based upon the common items they just happened to be holding, which range from chewing tobacco to beef jerky to a Slushie to a box of condoms, to marijuana. Unlikely heroes, or corporate tools? Sadly, this is just their origin, and we may never know what adventures await them. It’s a safe bet you’ll never see these guys in a mainstream comic.

John McNally’s “Remains of the Night” is told from the viewpoint of one superhero’s butler. Unfortunately, that superhero is the Silverfish, one of the creepiest heroes around, and the butler may just be losing his grip on reality. In the end, I’m not sure how much of the story is real, and how much is hallucination. Is there even a Silverfish, and if so, how much is true? It’s an oddly unsettling psychological piece, where the hero’s influence is felt more than the hero himself.

In “The Pentecostal Home for Flying Children,” Will Clark postulates that one promiscuous superhero might have had a number of children, all inheriting his ability to fly. Will his freewheeling nature also hold true, or will their religious, strait-laced upbringing prove dominant? It’s a classic nature versus nurture, with one small town feeling the brunt of things. Again, interesting, but the superhero is merely a backdrop for the effect he’s had on the world.

“The Thirteenth Egg,” by Scott Snyder, is about a former soldier, returned home a changed man after witnessing an atomic explosion during World War 2. While he might be superpowered, he’s no hero, not by the way we commonly define such things.

In “Roe #5,” by Richard Dooling, one woman learns, many years after the fact, that someone may have kept her unborn baby after an abortion, subjecting it to experiments. How will she react to the possible existence of her unknown superhuman children? And what’s the point of revealing it now? Again, there’s a certain unsatisfying lack of superheroes in this story.

Noria Jablonski’s “The Snipper” follows one young man, the scion of a family of Sea Monkeys (remember those ads?) who spends time as a nursing home for superheroes. There’s a serious problem in town: someone’s cutting up superhero costumes, and everyone lives in fear of The Snipper… You know, this story’s too strange to be described in any more depth. It’s interesting, but a little too clever for my liking.

“My Interview With The Avenger,” by Tom Bissell, is intriguing because it comes the closest to examining what a real-life superhero would be like, and indeed invokes some of the people who’ve donned masks to patrol the streets in the real world. Down-to-earth, logical, grounded in reality, practical, it’s refreshing for its straightforwardness.

In Sean Doolittle’s “Mr. Big Deal,” we come as close as this anthology ever gets to action heroes, as he focuses upon a cop with the unique ability to negate the superhiuman gifts of other people. There’s a lot of backstory, internal mythology and setting hinted at here, and of all the stories in the collection, this is the one I’d like to see expanded the most.

David Yoo looks at people whose powers are less than impressive, barely enough to qualify for super in the first place, in “The Somewhat Super.” When a frustrated writer is invited to write a book about the members of a support group for minor-league superhumans, he discovers just how normal, and abnormal they are … and learns about the hazards facing them should they ever go public. One of the more interesting concepts in the collection, its downbeat ending leaves something to be desired.

David Haynes’ “The Lives of Ordinary Superheroes” examines the power one man can have to influence his surroundings, as he follows the career of a quiet, well-spoken man dedicated to improving the world one person at a time. But again, is he a hero, or just a man doing the right thing?

There are plenty of other stories in this book, ranging from the utterly bizarre (Jim Shephard’s “In Cretaceous Seas”) to those that just didn’t grab me in the first place (Jennifer Weiner’s “League of Justice (Philadelphia Division)) but in the end, I read enough to get a good feel for Who Can Save Us Now? Ultimately, I was disappointed by what I found here. While it’s billed as a collection of short stories about superheroes, it seems as though half the time, the heroes don’t even make more than a guest appearance, with the author choosing to examine some aspect of their exietence or influence upon the world, or to tell a story only remotely related to the basic theme. When superheroes do appear, more often than not they’re muddled, ineffective, neurotic messes, or joke characters. This honestly strikes me as superheroes as viewed through a Woody Allen lens. Marvel Comics may have perfected the hero with feet of clay, but these stories take it a few steps further.
If these are the heroes for the 21st century, then I’ll stick with the old-fashioned 20th century heroes anyday.

If you’re looking for stories about honest-to-goodness superheroes, I can think of a number of more appropriate books, and that’s without getting into the Marvel and DC licensed novels. Perry Moore’s Hero, for young adult. Jennifer Estep’s Karma Girl or Hot Mama, if you want romance. The John Varley-edited anthology, Superheroes, remains one of the best original collections of superhero fiction I’ve ever run across. David J. Schwartz’s Superpowers is an honestly-engaging look at would-be heroes. Vicki Pettersson’s Signs of the Zodiac series is urban fantasy meets comic books. The Wild Cards series has been doing amazing things with superpowered characters for decades. That’s just off the top of my head.

The stories in this collection are well-written, and quality work, definitely. I even enjoyed reading some of them, and there’re a few authors I may check out in more depth later on. But I can’t help but feel a little betrayed; I picked up this book expecting four-color action and adventure, and what I found was something very different. Literary, yes. Thoughtful, perhaps. But these weren’t the superheroes I was expecting. Who Can Save Us Now? Not these guys, they can’t even save themselves. For all that this is an interesting, well-done anthology, it just wasn’t what the cover copy suggested, and I’m going to have to shake my fist angrily as a result. Not recommended to those seeking traditional superheroes and villains.

Tags: Green Man Review

Sword and Sorceress XXII , edited by Elisabeth Waters (Norilana Books, 2007)

Jul 22

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, Short Fiction | No Comments

In 1984, the first Sword and Sorceress anthology came out, edited by the notoriously feminist writer and editor, Marion Zimmer Bradley. Her goal: to breathe new life into the roles of females in the fantasy field, to encourage strong new female protagonists in a genre dominated by macho men in fur loincloths and wielding big swords. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but the truth is, back then, there was a distinct imbalance between men and women in the sword and sorcery field, and by hook or crook, Marion Zimmer Bradley (MZB for short) was going to change that. And to the surprise of many, the series was a sleeper hit, with each new volume finding its place on the bookshelves. Like clockwork, a new volume came out each year, introducing dozens of strong female characters, and furthering the careers of a number of authors. The series helped bring writers such as Mercedes Lackey, Diana Paxson, Vera Nazarian, Jennifer Roberson, Elisabeth Waters and Josepha Sherman into greater prominence, and launched a few continuing series, such as Lackey’s Tarma and Kethry stories. Charles de Lint, Laurell K. Hamilton, Charles Saunders, Glen Cook, Emma Bull, and Pat Murphy were also occasional or frequent contributors. As the years passed, and the series grew more prestigious, the number of submissions grew exponentially, until MZB was forced to make the anthology invite-only; with dozens of qualified S&S alumni to draw upon, she couldn’t accept every willing contributor, after all. When Marion died, it looked like the end of the line for the series. She’d finished editing Volume 18, and there was enough stockpiled material to produce three more books after that. In 2004, with the release of Volume 21, the series seemed dead, once and for all. It had done its job though, right? After two decades, the field had seen a healthy increase in strong female characters and female-oriented sword and sorcery (albeit often with a romantic edge to it, as witnessed by the Luna line out of Harlequin).

Some people, S&S alumni and regular contributors, weren’t willing to accept the end of Sword and Sorceress. After some negotiation with Marion Zimmer Bradley’s estate, they obtained permission to ressurect the series. Edited by Elisabeth Waters (MZB’s former secretary) and published by Vera Nazarian’s fledging Norilana Books, Sword and Sorceress XXII (that’s 22 to you non-Latin speakers) came out, reviving the series after its three year hiatus. Waters hearkened back to an old S&S tradition, that of the open submission policy, allowing both veterans and newcomers alike to try their hand at contributing, and the result is a fascinatingly mixed bag.

I approached this volume with both anticipation and trepidation. Would this new volume live up to the standards of its predecessors? Could it capture the right sort of feel? Would it stand out in a market that’s changed considerably over the past few decades? I’m happy to say that Sword and Sorceress XXII is a worthy addition to the series. It’s not perfect, but it’s certainly a strong continuation of the legacy.

The lead story is by Esther Friesner, who deviates from her more humorous tendancies to tell a gripping story of a young woman who bucks all tradition to become a huntress for her tribe, only to come into conflict with her sister and many of her tribemates. “Edna’s Arrow” is a complex. beautiful story that looks at what happens when gender roles are challenged, and the gods make their wishes known.

Patricia Cirone’s “A Nose For Trouble” is an interesting, quick story in which a medium’s apprentice discovers an unusual ability, and gets caught up in a matter concerning ghosts, traitors, and the law. It’s a nice setup for a larger work, and I hope we’ll see her expand upon the setting, since this only serves as a brief taste of the character’s potential.

In Margaret L. Carter’s “Vanishing Village,” a pair of female sorcerers, currently on a job to track down a missing person for their employer, discover a mysterious village, hidden from the outside world. Inside, it’s a paradise, with everything provided for the residents as needed. The problem is, once in, no one is able to leave. When our heroes try to unravel the mystery, they discover a sorcerer unlike any other, and wrestle with a powerful ethical dilemna, one with a thought-provoking ending, Again, I’d love to see more of these characters, as they share an easy comraderie, and both their chemistry together and their general setup remind me pleasantly of Mercedes Lackey’s early Tarma and Kethry stories.

Kimberly L. Maughan makes her fiction debut with “The Ironwood Box,” in which three sisters, long-exiled from their home, must now face the challenge of returning, to fulfil their destinies and rescue their land from an usurper. But only two of the three sisters possess the traditional magic of their lineage. Can the third rise to the challenge and discover her own strengths? This was a pleasant, enjoyable story, and it’s a strong opening for Maughan. Hopefully, we’ll see more from her soon.

Jonathan Mueller’s “Black Ghost, Red Ghost” is a tale of intrigue and adventure, as a woman acting as a royal spy investigates a governer suspected of treason. Magic, action, and unavenged ghosts mix together to weave a strong, fast-paced story filled with twists and turns. At the risk of sounding repetitive, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of this setting and the main character.

Catherine Mintz’s “The Decisive Princess” is a short, sweet story. Unfortunately, it’s so short, that I can’t describe it to say why I like it, except that Mintz delivers an insightful twist upon Robert Stockton’s classic “The Lady, or the Tiger?” to satisfying effect.

In Marian Allen’s “Child of Ice, Child of Flame,” a wandering swordswoman discovers far more than she expected after killing a village’s champion in a duel. In this case, victory doesn’t necessarily lead to fortune and glory, especially when the village’s dirty secrets are revealed. Allen has an intriguing setup here, and this story really does feel like classic Sword and Sorceress.

In “Skin and Bones,” Heather Rose Jones explores the rules governing a bizarre form of magic known as skin-changing, as her hero investigates a mysterious community and discovers a frightening new aspect to the skinchanging concept. Definitely an interesting story, set in a world full of potential.

Michael Spence and Elisabeth Waters collaborate in “Crosswort Puzzle,” which is a clever mystery full of intrigue and twists. This is a prime example of Sword and Sorceress’ tendency to support continuing series, as the characters featured here appeared in at least one previous volume.

T. Borregard’s “Fairy Debt” uses old fairy tale traditions to weave a new and satisfying story, as a fairy goes to work undercover for a princess, in order to settle an old family debt. Is her limited magic enough to save the day when a dragon comes to visit? This is a pleasant, warm-hearted story with more than a little humor, and an upbeat tone, and I rather liked it.

Robert E. Vardeman’s “Tontine” captures a much darker mood, as the last survivor of a group of soldiers upholds a debt of honor, drinking to her friends’ memories. It’s a great concept, and a nicely atmospheric, moody execution.

The book finishes up with newcomer Sarah Dozier’s “The Menagerie,” a short, humorous tale of one sorceress and how she ended a war through creative magic. It’s a good start for Dozier, and I hope we’ll see more.

Other authors featured in this book are Catherine Soto, Deborah J. Ross, Dave Smeds and Alanna Morland, making for an even sixteen stories.

So, the verdict? Sword and Sorceress XXII is a worthy successor to the original run of the series, and hopefully, signals the start of a whole new dynasty. Waters has revitalized the series by once again bringing in a mixture of old and new blood, giving several new writers a chance and reintroducing us to some old favorites. There’s a wide range of stories, themes, moods and styles, enough to appeal to a variety of readers. I found enough stories in this collection to satisfy me, and there’s definitely enough to make it worth picking up. If you like strong female characters, and sword and sorcery, then you really can’t go wrong with this collection. I was quite pleasantly surprised by the end results, and it’s obvious that not only does Waters understand the concept and the purpose behind Sword and Sorceress (no surprise, given her relationship to the earlier volumes), but she’s able to help the series adjust to the times. The later books in the original run felt a little dated, even forgettable, but XXII feels more up-to-date, in tune with today’s sensibilities, and that’s important when trying to keep a venerable series such as this fresh and appealing. Sword and Sorceress XXII definitely seems like a successful restart of the franchise, and I’ll be looking forward to new installments in years to come.

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Lace and Blade, by Deborah J. Ross (Norilana Books, 2008)

Jul 22

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, LGBTQ Interest, Romance, Short Fiction | No Comments

In Lace and Blade, editor Deborah J. Ross has brought together a number of stories which look to convey a sense of romantic fantasy, as inspired by authors like Oscar Wilde or Tanith Lee, or classic characters like Zorro, the Scarlet Pimpernel, and the Three Musketeers. I’d go a step further and suggest that books like Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman’s Swordspoint or Madeleine Robins’ Point of Honour also help set the tone the editor was striving for here. Publisher Vera Nazarian goes into some detail about her original vision for the “lace and blade” version of fantasy, a “genre within a genre” that’s by turns genteel and elegant, polite and dangerous, with “duels of sharp wit and steel.” So how exactly does the final product compare to the lengthy and descriptive definition? Let’s see.

Madeleine Robins leads off with a charming tale, “Virtue and the Archangel.” When, after an ill-considered tryst, a young noblewoman loses a prized family necklace, she turns to Nyana meBarso, an old schoolmate turned fencing instructor … hardly the profession for wellbred young women. Nyana pursues the matter of the missing necklace with an unflappable attitude and a certain style. Robins, no stranger to this sort of setting, as seen in her noir Regencies, captures the mood and manners perfectly, and ends things with a most unpredictable moment. I’d absolutely love to see more of Nyana meBarso and her world, as Robins really has that knack for creating just the right atmosphere.

Robin Wayne Bailey goes for a more authentic historical setting with “Touch of Moonlight,” a tale which combines the dashing image of the highwayman with the feral nature of the werewolf. Lady Elena Sanchez y Vega is on her way to deliver a substantial ransom for her imprisoned brother, but a chance meeting with the legendary Ramon Estrada, a highwayman of note, leads to a new series of obstacles. But who’s robbing whom, and what will the moonlight reveal? This is an enjoyable story, with a few surprises, and some rather nice chemistry between Elena and Ramon.

Tanith Lee, one of the stated inspirations for this anthology, contributes “Lace-Maker, Blade-Taker, Grave-Breaker, Priest.” It’s a twisted, somewhat convoluted tale that starts off aboard a ship, where several of the passengers, the flamboyant Prince Mhikal Vendrei and the enigmatic soldier Zephyrin develop an almost immediate hatred of one another. Witness to their feud is Ymil, a writer. As the voyage progresses and the ship founders, the three men continue to deepen their assorted relationships to one another, until nothing short of a duel upon the beach will satisfy Prince Vendrei and Zephyrin. As their histories are revealed, the story of a woman spurned is revealed, tying them all together. But how will it all turn out? This is an interesting story, multi-layered and complex, beautifully-told with the various threads weaving around one another until all is made evident. This one may require multiple readings to properly understand.

Dave Smeds tells his story from a most unusual viewpoint, that of “The Beheaded Queen.” The titular character is something of an outsider, a permanent observer thanks to the curse that keeps her alive as nothing more than a head, the punishment for certain extramarital indiscretions. When her son becomes engaged to the princess of a neighboring kingdom, the queen is sent as part of the diplomatic mission to exchange royal “guests” (i.e. hostages) and ascertain the fitness of the princess for her son. How the queen relates to her son, her daughter, and her daughter-in-law to be, well, it speaks volumes of her inherent nobility and wisdom. This is a subtle, character-driven story that looks at the meaning of love and the need to occasionally sacrifice love for duty. It would be interesting to see how these characters develop afterwards.

In “The Topaz Desert,” Catherine Asaro partners an innocent young woman with magical powers, with a lonely, rough-hewn miner who dwells far from civilization. Opposites really do attract, as these two find salvation, comfort, and love in one another’s company, and become all the better for it. Asaro sets up an intriguing world, but only touches on a small part of it as she polishes this romance until it shines. Tanzi and Zebb makes for a rather cute couple, and Asaro applies a delicate touch with words and images to make their relationship feel real. While romantic and fantastic, this story doesn’t really seem to fit the theme quite as adeptly as some of the others do, but it’s still quite pleasant.

“Night Wind,” by Mary Rosenblum, is another story about a highwayman,and again, things are not what they seem to be. When Alvaro runs afoul of the infamous Night Wind, he discovers that the mysterious rider has a taste for justice and a knack for horses, talents which come in handy in their part of the world. However, Alvaro has more important things than a horse-stealing highwayman to think about; there’s his wife-to-be, whom he’s never met, to consider. Furthermore, Alvaro lacks the magic needed to keep his family’s lands, and the olives they cultivate, alive. Can he discover the secret of the Night Wind, and unlock his magic, in order to save his family’s livelihood? While this is a very nice tale, certain aspects of it are fairly blatantly telegraphed, and we don’t get to see nearly enough of certain pivotal characters. Nevertheless, it conveys the right feel of intrigue and adventure, very much drawing from the Zorro school of thought.

Sherwood Smith turns in what may be my second-favorite story, just behind Madeleine Robins’, in “The Rule of Engagement.” It all starts at the Blue Moon Masque, the last great social event of the summer season, when King Lexan chooses to dance with the lovely Ren, much to the dismay of the jealous Duchess Tarsa, all while the enigmatic Duke Cath Lassatar watches from afar. Before the night is out, a plan is executed, wherepon Cath kidnaps Ren for his own mysterious ends. What follows is a quiet, polite game of cat and mouse, where Ren practices a dignified, passive resistance, while Cath tries to win her over. Meanwhile, Tarsa realizes that something’s not right, even with her supposed rival out of the picture. Soon, it’s revealed that a deeper game is being played, a game of love and desire. Superbly-told, this story really exemplifies what I see as romantic fantasy, weaving together courtly manners and rules of behavior, confident people and elegant surroundings. It’s romantic without being a romance, a fantasy without too many of the more garish trappings. This is the sort of thing I’d love to see more of.

Other authors to be found in this collection include Diana L. Paxson and Chaz Brenchley. After examining this anthology, I’m happy to say that it succeeds in its mission statement, the stories tapping into the rich potential of the romantic fantasy genre, a contrast to the more brutal and straight-forward sword and sorcery to be found elsewhere. There’s a nice deal of variety, from Spanish highwaymen to courtly intrigue to unusual women, and it makes for a nice mixture of flavors. As with any anthology, not all stories will please all readers, but Lace and Blade has a lot going for it. I was quite pleasantly surprised, and hope further volumes, should any come out, will keep up the good work.

Tags: Green Man Review

Strange Candy, by Laurell K. Hamilton (Berkley, 2006)

Jul 21

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, Science Fiction, Short Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Vampires | No Comments

When you think of Laurell K. Hamilton, you probably think first of her Anita Blake series of books, and of highly-sensualized vampires and werewolves. Or perhaps you think of her Meredith Gentry series of even more sexualized faeries and related creatures. Given how much space the two series take up on the shelves, it’s little wonder. And, as my above words have likely suggested, it’s easy to generalize her works these days. However, she’s actually produced a fair number of short stories that range a wider gamut than one normally realizes. Here, in Strange Candy, her short fiction is gathered at last, with all-new introductions by Hamilton herself. Follow the development of her career in fourteen stories spanning nearly twenty years, with brief commentary elaborating on the whys and wheres of each story.

“Those Who Seek Forgiveness” is actually the first Anita Blake story, and as such, we see many of the elements that are present in the novels, though at this stage, it’s clear Hamilton was still figuring out what, exactly, makes the character tick. As such, she’s only a raiser of the dead, and there’s nary a vampire to be seen. Just a widow who wants a moment with her deceased husband, and a zombie to be raised. It’s actually a tight piece, and a good example of Hamilton’s bent towards dark fantasy and horror.

“A Lust of Cupids” is a strange tale where roving packs of cupids terrorize innocent victims, causing them to fall in lust or love with random targets. Short but sweet, it’s got something of a wicked core to it.

“The Edge of the Sea” is much more of a horror story, one in which you’ll never look at the ocean, or think of mer-creatures, the same way again.

“A Scarcity of Lake Monsters” might possibly be my favorite in this collection. It’s set in a world where lake monsters and other mythological creatures, such as satyrs and leprechauns, are real. But in a distinct departure from the norm, this story focuses upon conservation and scholarly efforts to understand these creatures. How do lake monsters breed and continue on? Therein lies the mystery and the whimsy of this story. I’d happily read more stories in this setting.

“Selling Houses” is a ghost story set in the Anita Blake universe, though Anita herself is nowhere to be seen. Instead, we meet a new protagonist, a real estate agent whose latest property, which comes complete with tragic history, may be a very tough sell.

Set in the same world as her novel Nightseer, “A Token For Celandinem” is a dark tale about a healer corrupted by evil powers, and the elven bodyguard sworn to see her through a dangerous quest.

“A Clean Sweep” is another of my favorites, a bizarre story about an underappreciated superhero named Captain Housework, who’s found himself short of villains, but still possessed of the need to help. As with many of Hamilton’s stories, it has a somewhat dark twist to it.

“The Curse-Maker” and “Stealing Souls” both feature the same characters, a woman warrior with an intelligent, magical sword, and her bard companion. They make for an interesting pair, though the sword seems rather inspired by old-school Dungeons and Dragons at times . . . though ironically, it may be the most intriguing of the group. In one story, our heroine goes on a quest to save the life of her bard friend from the man who placed a death curse on him. In the other, they storm a wizard’s keep to fulfill a childhood vow. All in all, I enjoyed this pair of stories, and I wouldn’t have minded to see more of the characters and their backstory. Something tells me a longer work set in their world would almost feel like retro fantasy, these days.

“Geese” also sees a young woman fulfilling an old obligation. In this instance, a girl has spent much of her life as a goose in order to avoid falling victim to an enemy’s geas. Now that she’s grown, will she seek vengeance, or succumb to the geas’ power?

“House of Wizards” is about a young woman, entirely non-magical, who marries into a family where magic is a rule, not an exception. A classic fish out of water story ensues, and naturally, she makes quite an impact on her in-laws.

“Here Be Dragons,” the sole story with science fiction elements, is rather strong, and rather disturbing. An empathic dream therapist who spends her days dealing with the worst people society has to offer, is called back to a place she hates and fears, to deal with a child sociopath in the making. In the battle of wills to follow, who will emerge victorious, and who will prove to be the greater monster?

Also from the world of Nightseer comes “Winterkill,” about an assassin who only targets wizards. Not as gripping as some of the stories, but it still shows an early strength to Hamilton’s work.

Finally comes “The Girl Who Was Infatuated With Death,” which is the newest of the lot, an Anita Blake story which falls relatively lately in the series. In it, Anita is tasked to find a seventeen-year-old girl who’s on the verge of illegally being brought over as a vampire. Should this happen, it’ll be trouble for the vampire who does the deed, and heartbreak for the distraught mother who’d lose her daughter. This one is the closest to Hamilton’s best-known style of writing.

Overall, I have to admit that Hamilton’s a really good writer. I think she really brings out a certain strength when she’s writing short fiction; with only so much space to work with, she stays on track and sheds a lot of excess baggage that makes her novels seem to drag on. This, of course, is just my opinion, but looking at how she’s evolved and matured as an author, it seems as though these earlier works really were ripe with promise. It’s almost a shame she’s gotten locked into the Anita Blake and Merry Gentry series; a few more standalones that branch out might just be what she needs for variety. Clearly, she’s got an old-fashioned affinity for sword and sorcery (sorceress?) fantasy (two of the stories in this volume actually did appear in the Sword & Sorceress anthology series, and two more appeared in projects edited by S&S editor Marion Zimmer Bradley) and I may just have to find a copy of Nightseer to see how it stacks up in comparison to the short fiction set in that world. In the introduction, Hamilton speaks with some regret about how the bottom fell out of the heroic fantasy market, and she was forced to find something the publishers would pick up, which obviously led to the projects she’s best known for. I wonder if now that the heroic fantasy market seems to have made a comeback, she’ll once again venture into it.

That digression aside, I’ll conclude, somewhat to my surprise, that Strange Candy is actually quite entertaining, and a rather nice sampler of Hamilton’s work. Fans of her stuff are sure to enjoy it, and those who might have avoided Hamilton’s books “because of all the sex” will find these stories almost entirely free of that determent. So go ahead, check this one out.

Tags: Green Man Review

The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #15, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2002)

Jul 21

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, Short Fiction, Urban Fantasy | No Comments

If someone were to assign awards to the roundup of Year’s Best books that invariably grace the shelves during the middle of each year, those volumes edited by Silverberg or Hartwell or Datlow and Windling or other sundry people, then it’s a sure bet the Datlow/Windling collection, now a most respectable fifteen volumes in strength, would be a shoo-in for the MVP award. Or perhaps Best In Show. And by that, I mean that while any collection can take a dozen or two dozen stories published in the previous year and assign them such qualities as to call them “the best,” only this particular collection goes above and beyond, nay, transcends duty with its accomplishments.

For therein lies the truth. Anyone can make up a Year’s Best list of stories. Tastes are subjective and personal enough that no one will agree with all of the stories all of the time. What one editor might consider worthy, another might dismiss. What one reader might devour, another might yawn at. Terri Windling has the right of it in this volume when she states, “Fantasy readers are the winners here, presented annually with the treasures provided by two anthologies, each covering somewhat different ground.” She wrote this in relation to the launch of the David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer Year’s Best series, but it can just as easily be applied to the Robert Silverberg-edited volume, or even to the Gardner Duzois companion volume also released by St. Martin’s which covers the Year’s Best Science Fiction.

This lengthy introduction, thus, is my disclaimer: All stories collected henceforth in this volume are done so with an editorial bias, and may or may not be the best as you, or I, or anyone else, sees them. This is by no means a bad thing. Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling haven’t made it this far for no good reason. They are supremely skilled at sifting through anthologies, magazines, e-zines, journals, and publications both widespread and obscure, selecting rare treasures, hidden gems, overlooked works, and things that the average reader likely never saw in print the first time around. So to begin with, you’ll find any number of stories or poems for the first time within these pages.

Certain names are all but guaranteed to be in the table of contents. Charles de Lint is a mainstay of the series; this year, it’s his werewolf love story, “Trading Hearts at the Half Kaffe Cafe” that makes the cut, pulled from the anthology Single White Vampire Seeks Same . Maybe not one of his best ever, but a typically strong, enjoyable story nonetheless. Michael Chabon, best known for mainstream works like The Amazing Adventures of Cavalier and Klay, is represented with “The God of Dark Laughter”, taken from The New Yorker. Jane Yolen’s “The Barbarian and the Queen: Thirteen Views” is an oddly surreal piece first published in Starlight 3, edited by Patrick Nielsen Hayden. Ursula K. LeGuin’s “The Bones of the Earth” first appeared in her own collection, Tales from Earthsea. Tanya Huff’s “Oh, Glorious Sight” was first seen in the anthology Oceans of Magic. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Hand’s darkly erotic, oddly disturbing story, “Cleopatra Brimstone,” comes from the boundary-straining anthology, Redlight.

There’s more, much more. Gene Wolfe, Barry N. Malzberg, Graham Joyce and S.P. Somtow. Caitlin Kiernan, Gregory Maguire, Gala Blau, and Kelly Link. The stories come from SCIFI.COM, Interzone, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, Strangehorizons.com, literary journals and poetry journals, anthologies and single-author collections, chapbooks and online magazines. They’re collected from genre publications, mainstream publications, and things that can’t even be classified. With dozens of authors and just as many works to choose from, running the gamut of fantasy and horror and the uncomfortable spaces overlapping between, there’s enough to please just about any tastes, even as one shakes his head and wonders what anyone ever saw in Story X. It’s certainly one of the biggest, most fascinating, most eclectic Year’s Bests out there, considering as it does so many different sources.

In honesty, the stories are almost like an afterthought compared to the prologue. Only a volume like this could dedicate five hundred pages to fiction, and another one hundred and twenty-some to summing up the year in general. It’s like the cream filling in an Oreo: the best part, one that can be savored on its own.

As always, Terri Windling produces a scholarly, extensively thorough look at the year in fantasy. From her opinions on the top twenty books (in alphabetical order), to note-worthy first novels, from imaginary world fantasy to contemporary fantasy, from historical to humorous, from mainstream to other genres, she looks at dozens of books, giving them each a brief blurb of commentary, honest to a fault. When she likes it, she’ll say so. When something needs improvement, it’s noted as well. She covers children’s fantasy (a new favorite sub-genre of mine), single-author collections, anthologies, magazines (on the bottom of page xxxvi, Green Man gets a blurb), art, picture books, nonfiction, folklore and fairy tales, music, and awards. Can I just say that this summary could double as a shopping list for any fantasy buff? It’s that extensive. I’m of a mind to go hunting.

Not to be outdone, Ellen Datlow tackles the subject of horror in 2001. Her lengthy essay covers every facet of horror, from books to magazines (my disappointment was in not seeing vampire magazine Dreams of Decadence get a nod), art to anthologies (and she was particularly, honestly, harsh on the quality and effectiveness of a few of these; my favorite quote, regarding Bubbas of the Apocalypse, was “hey, why don’t we put on a show in this ole barn and invite some of our friends?” I have this anthology. Ask nice, I may review it someday). Of particular usefulness is the listing of small press addresses she includes at the end of the summary.

Edward Bryant sums up the year in the media. His purview is “Media of the Fantastic,” meaning he looks at fantasy, horror, even science fiction as it pertains to permutations such as movies, television, and even toys. Again, useful. Again, thorough. By no means as comprehensive as the other essays, it still manages to give a pretty good look at how the field has been represented in live action, animation, and at the box office.

New to the Year’s Best series this year is famed artist Charles Vess, whose collaboration with Neil Gaiman produced Stardust, and whose four-issue comic book series The Book of Ballads and Sagas hasn’t gotten nearly enough attention. This, naturally, makes him ideal to review fantasy and horror in comics. To be honest, he cheats a little; not everything he mentions came out in 2001. In fact, he starts off with a brief history of the field as it applies to the genre, by way of orienting his readers. For a comic afficiendo like myself, this section is both enlightening (oh, that looks good) and frustrating (how the heck did I miss that?). Here’s hoping Vess sticks around for future volumes.

Also new to the series is noted author Joan D. Vinge, who tackles the twin topics of manga and anime, which have been enjoying a fast-growing popularity in America for some time now. (Between the Cartoon Network’s wholesale importing of series, and the Sailor Moon/Pokemon crazes, that popularity has become more of an obsession, in my opinion.) She’s kind enough to write her column as though to the uninitiated, starting off with a series of Frequently Asked Questions. Things like “Why do so many characters look like Americans?” and “What’s with all the T and A?” and “So about those delicate, beautiful young men…” So I paraphrased just a little. She’s very good at clueing in the newcomer, before launching into a discussion of what’s worthwhile, where to find it, and how to learn more about it. Anime and manga have irrevocably become part of the fantasy/horror/science fiction field, so it’s good to see a collection like this acknowledge the fact.

Finally, series packager and respected editor in his own right, James Frenkel, has the last word on the last words of those who’ve gone to the great convention in the sky, with the regular obituary column. Every year, the field loses a sobering number of those who were crucial, or related to it, and he pays his respects. In 2001, we saw the passings of Poul Anderson, Douglas Adams, William Hanna (of Hanna-Barbera animation fame), Gordon Dickson, Jenna Felice (a Tor Books editor who was much beloved by those who worked with her), Dan DeCarlo (best known for creating Josie and the Pussycats) and dozens more, from publishing, film, fandom, comics, and more. The scope of Frenkel’s attention on who is, was, and used to be part of the field in all its many manifestations is both impressive and disturbing; how many of these people have we even heard of today? But as he puts it, “Perhaps you’ll find inspiration in the works of those whose names aren’t familiar.”

After all that, at the end of the book, we have the Honorable Mentions, for those books and stories that were deemed worthy of mention, but which couldn’t be included for other reasons, such as space consideration. At 250,000 words, the book already weighs in fairly heavily. That Datlow and Windling take the time to list all these others is astounding.

Last but not least, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the typically gorgeous cover by Thomas Canty, who’s done quite a bit towards helping present the series as a uniform whole. The only problem I see with the covers he’s provided for each volume is that, after a while, they all start to look alike from a distance. But that’s a small price to pay for the exquisite job he does each year.

In the end, The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror Fifteen is as strong as the rest in the series. Word for word, you get more for your money than any other Year’s Best collection on the shelf, with the assorted summaries being well worth the price just on their own merits. I recommend this book without hesitation, especially if you have any interest in the field beyond just reading stories.

Terri Windling has a Web site, The Endicott Studio, which Green Man highly urges you to check out. Charles Vess can be found at www.greenmanpress.com, which is another reason for us to like him. Ellen Datlow is currently the editor for Scifiction.com. You can check out the St. Martin’s Web site at www.stmartins.com . While our reviews of Datlow and Windling collections are too numerous to be mentioned here, you may access them all from our “authors” index page. Also see our interview with Terri Windling. Ellen Datlow has a most excellent Web site here.

Tags: Green Man Review

The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #14, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin’s Press, 2001)

Jul 21

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, Short Fiction, Urban Fantasy | No Comments

As I may have noted before, to put together a collection of stories, or what have you, and call it the best, you’re really making a certain subjective statement. Everyone’s opinion about the best differs. Some of the most critically acclaimed stories are the ones I find the least enjoyable. A certain editor and publisher I know might insist that it’s not the best if stories he published in his magazines weren’t present. Take two editors, give them the same assignment, and find an overlap of maybe 20%, tops.

That’s why it’s so impressive that every year, Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow can put together the massive collections of The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, which turns fourteen this year with yet another thorough investigation and retrospective of the previous year’s output. And with the traditional gorgeous cover art by Thomas Canty, it’s hard to miss.

A quick scan of the contents page would reveal dozens of short stories and poems, ranging the gamut of fantasy, dark fantasy, horror, and all the gray areas in between. A random sampling of authors reveals that the “year’s best” includes Harlan Ellison, Charles de Lint, Neil Gaiman, Jane Yolen, Jonathan Carroll, Francesca Lia Block, Nalo Hopkinson, and Tanith Lee. But lesser-known lights come to the front as well, such as Bolivian author Claudia Adriazola, and Glen Hirshberg. You don’t need a membership card to get into this particular club, just a story or poem worthy of the editor’s attention.

And that’s the beautiful and best thing about these yearly collections of the bizarre, fantastical, disturbing, and thought-provoking. I read a lot. I read several dozen anthologies a year, numerous magazines, books beyond counting. And I’ve seen maybe a quarter, at most, of the works present in this volume. I somehow missed Ghost Writing: Haunted Tales of Contemporary Writers. I’ve never heard of Horror Garage or Imagination, Fully Dilated (Volumes I or II!). I don’t read the New Yorker, generally. Or the Iowa Review or the Colorado Review or even the New England Review. What The Year’s Best gives you, then, is a sampling of stories you likely never would have found on your own. Obscure gems, treasures in the rough, genre stories that strayed outside the normal lines and into mainstream. New works by favorite writers, and newer works by writers you’ve never heard of. And that’s the first reason why I find the Windling and Datlow collections so enjoyable: they always manage to turn up things I never would have found on my own, and dollars to donuts I’ll enjoy the majority of them. Doubtful that I’d enjoy them all, since tastes do differ. But what I like, it’s -good-.

There’s another reason, though, why this book is such a useful resource. And that’s the hundred plus pages of summations, obituaries, and the year’s roundup that precedes the actual stories. That’s right, in addition to over five hundred pages of short stories, novellas, and poems, you also get all this bonus material. Sounds like an infomercial offer, doesn’t it? Too good to be true? Not at all. It’s all part of the package.

As always, Terri Windling starts off with one of the most in-depth, thorough, knowledgeable essays on the state of fantasy in such categories as Top Twenty, First Novels, Urban Fantasy, Imaginary World Novels, Mythic Fiction, Humor, Oddities, Children’s Fantasy, Single-Author Collections, Anthologies, Magazines, Poetry, Art, Mythology and Folklore, Awards and more. Dozens, nay hundreds, of items worth checking out, hunting down, borrowing, buying, or stealing.

This is the sort of investigation that must take forever to do properly, no matter how many of the items in question might be sent her way to begin with.

But wait, there’s more! Ellen Datlow follows that tough act to beat with her own summation of Horror in the year 2000. Awards, Novels, Anthologies, Reprint Collections, Poetry, Artists, Magazines, Nonfiction, Small Press Addresses, and more. If anything, she’s just as thorough and scholarly as Windling, and details enough material to make any horror aficionado drool with delight.

Edward Bryant chimes in with Fantasy and Horror in the Media, tackling the way Hollywood handles and interprets everything from historical fantasy to vampires to comic books to television, and more still. He even pulls out the independents that are worth a look. Seth Johnson takes a look at how comic books dealt with the subjects, pointing out the best, most intelligent, and most enjoyable of the lot. Finally, James Frenkel gives us the literary equivalent of the Montage of Honor at the Academy Awards, listing all of those people associated with fantasy and horror in all their many forms who passed on in the year 2000. It’s a sad topic, but he treats it with dignity and respect, paying homage to all those who’ve told their last story. He touches upon the lives and achievements of L. Sprague de Camp, Edward Gorey, Don Martin, Carl Barks, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Sir Alec Guinness, Steve Reeves, Jim Varney, and so many more. A moment of silence, please.

With a collection this size, it’s hard to pick out the best or most noteworthy. But a few pieces did make me stop and think, or shudder, or reread them again and again. Of special interest, then, are Glen Hirshberg’s “Mr. Dark’s Carnival,” which treats us to a town where Halloween takes on a special, intimate meaning, and a mysterious carnival has the power to change lives forever; Terry Dowling’s “The Saltimbanques,” which deals with Australian myth, and the loss of innocence, and growing up; Ben Pastor’s “Achilles’ Grave,” which looks at a peculiar encounter during World War One between a British soldier and a German, and the bond they form when they summon the dead; Ramsey Campbell’s “No Strings,” a nightmarish account of the fate of a late night DJ; Charles de Lint’s “Granny Weather,” which brings back one of his popular characters, Sophie Etoile, for another journey into the other worlds; Harlan Ellison’s “Incognita, Inc,” a truly memorable story about where all those mysterious maps come from, and what happens when we no longer need to find our way to Oz or Xanadu.

And as a sidenote, did I mention the Honorable Mentions? That’s right. More pages filled with lists of other stories and poems that were noteworthy, but couldn’t be squeezed in.

I can’t say much more than to reiterate, in no uncertain terms, that The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, Volume Fourteen is one of those absolutely indispensable offerings that any true lover of fantasy and/or horror should pick up. It’s well worth the price, and will serve you well.

Tags: Green Man Review

The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #13, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2000)

Jul 21

Posted by Michael M. Jones in Fantasy, Short Fiction, Urban Fantasy | No Comments

“Good evening, Ms. Datlow, Ms. Windling. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to compile a volume dealing with the best of the fantasy and horror genres for the year 1999. Not only must you pick out the best short fiction of the year, you must also provide rundowns and wrap-ups of the genres as applied to movies, television, magazines, the Internet, comic books, music, and more.

“You may pick additional members of your team as necessary. Assistant editors Richard and Mardelle Kunz. Library scout Bill Murphy. The noted artist Thomas Canty. Editor/packager James Frenkel. St. Martin’s editor Gordon Van Gelder. The folks at Endicott Studio.

“We predict you’ll need a large team to properly carry out your mission.

“As always, if you or any of your team are captured or killed, SFWA will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This contract will self-destruct in five seconds.”

Every year, editors Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow scour the globe to bring us the best examples of fantasy and horror fiction. This volume of their annual quest is lucky number thirteen, and most assuredly doesn’t disappoint.

Certainly, it’s not an easy job. There’s just so much produced… scattered amongst magazines, anthologies, collections, and media… that it’s hard to believe anyone could keep track of it all. Yet somehow, they succeeded. The fiction offered in the Year’s Best has been collected from a wide variety of sources, from Realms of Fantasy to the Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy, from Prairie Schooner to The Hudson Review, from convention programs to chapbooks, from single-author collections to anthologies. While many stories come from genre magazines, just as many stem from out-of-the-way sources that most fantasy readers would never even dream of looking at.

Not only does Year’s Best offer the best by way of fiction, it devotes extensive space to offering yearly roundups of the field in other media. Summations. Top Twenty. First Novels. Urban Fantasy. Imaginary World Fantasy. Historical and Alternate Worlds. Mythic Fiction. Humorous Fantasy. Mainstream. Oddities. Animal Tales. Children’s Fantasy. Single-Author Collections. Anthologies. Poetry. Comic Books. Magazines. Art Books. Nonfiction. Mythology and Folklore. Music. Conventions and Awards.

And that was just the write-up for fantasy. Terri Windling is one of the most knowledgeable editors in the field regarding fantasy, and she proves once again that she knows her stuff. If it happened, she’s got it covered here, pointing out hundreds of books and stories and the like that are worthy of notice. It’s worth picking up Year’s Best for the summaries alone, as Windling adeptly turns the spotlight on all manner of hidden or overlooked treasures.

Ellen Datlow does the same for the horror field, speaking knowledgeably about such categories as Books and Magazines, Novels, Anthologies, Collections, Artists, Small Presses, and the like. Though she has fewer categories overall than Windling, she goes into the same sort of skillfully written details regarding her chosen field. If it’s worth mentioning, and related to horror or really dark fantasy, chances are you’ll find a brief write-up in her section.

Not to be outdone, Edward Bryant turns in a study of fantasy and horror as relating to the media. Movies, in all their many forms, from the bad B-Movies to the greatest blockbusters to the quirks of animation, are his focus, although he also looks at television and even music. (The Dixie Chicks? Go figure.)

Seth Johnson contributes a relatively shorter piece on comics, which are by their very nature a welcome haven for fantasy and horror. This being one of my favorite fields, it’s nice to see comics getting noticed for more than superheroes and spandex.

James Frenkel, the creator of the Year’s Best concept, turns in one of the sadder essays of each volume, the Obituaries. Each year, we have to cope with losing people involved in the field, and it’s fitting that they should be paid one last bit of tribute here. The major names that passed on in 1999 included Shel Silverstein and Marion Zimmer Bradley, as well as Stanley Kubrick, Joseph Heller, and John Broome. But Frenkel also lists dozens of others who have had an impact on the field, no matter how small. Authors, editors, artists, actors, producers, cinematographers, even stuntmen, critics, booksellers and long-time fans. Anyone who made their mark has been honored here.

After all of that (and believe it if you will, but everything up to this point is numbered in Roman numerals, up to cxxvi!), we finally get to the stories. The lead fiction piece is a haunting, evocative new Earthsea tale, “Darkrose and Diamond,” from Ursula K. Le Guin, a prime example of the quality that’s the hallmark of the Year’s Best series.

After that, there’s Ian MacLeod’s “The Chop Girl,” which is about ghosts and jinxes in the superstitious setting of a British airfield during World War II. Part love story, part ghost story, it’s beautiful and sorrowful at the same time.

Kelly Link turns in “The Girl Detective,” a surreal story which takes the very best of Nancy Drew, fairy tales, myth, and pop culture, throws it in a blender with some ice, mixes, and serves chilled with a lemon slice. There is no possible way to properly explain this one, save to say that it starts in all the obvious places, and ends in a tree.

There’s a story from Patricia McKillip, plucked from the Datlow/Windling collection, Silver Birch, Blood Moon, a bizarre and sensual retelling of the Princess and the Frog fairy tale. Kim Newman, known for his series of alternate-world Dracula novels, is represented with “You Don’t Have to Be Mad…” Gene Wolfe’s “The Tree Is My Hat” shows that this particular author’s still in fine style. Neil Gaiman gives us “Keepsakes and Treasures: A Love Story,” which is typically bizarre and thought-provoking. Love him or hate him, Gaiman is incapable of mediocrity. Jane Yolen contributes a poem entitled “Old Merlin Dancing on the Sands of Time.” Charles de Lint produces

“Pixel Pixies,” a chapbook which unites several of his popular characters, including Holly Rue and her used bookstore, the Wordwood, and the Kelledys. Would that every bookstore had a hob to keep it clean and tidy!

Those are just a very few of the many splendid, excellent stories and poems which fill this volume of the Year’s Best. With literally dozens to choose from, both big name authors and the most obscure of talents, there’s something to suit everyone’s taste and then some.

It’s impossible to read this book and remain stuck within your old boundaries. Datlow and Windling draw from such varied and esoteric sources that you’re bound to be exposed to something new and different. After thirteen such books, they’re unquestionably experts in the field, the authorities of note on what’s not just good, but exceptional, noteworthy, and unique. If it’s included in this book, it’s head and shoulders above almost anything else published in the fantasy and horror fields. They don’t just select good stories, they select ones that represent the endless room for variation and exploration and experimentation found in the genre. It’s not enough to be well-written, it has to have some sort of merit.

I can’t find anything bad to say about Year’s Best. It’s one of those books I’ve come to depend upon year after year to serve as a tour guide through the realms of fantastic and horrific literature of the year past. I might not like every story contained within, but I can’t fault their inclusion. Individual tastes make every anthology something of a crapshoot, and as always, your mileage may vary. But I will recommend The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #13 wholeheartedly and without reservation. For the price, it gives you more than your money’s worth every time, both in fiction and in the aforementioned yearly summaries.

So what’re you waiting for? I’ll let you discover for yourself just what Datlow and Windling have to say about 1999. (As Windling notes, it was a disappointing year for novel-length fiction, but only because 1998 was a banner year, and many of the best authors who released books that year were thus absent from the new release shelves in 1999.) But you can discover all that and more in Year’s Best #13, available just about everywhere by now. Enjoy.

Tags: Green Man Review

Schrödinger's Bookshelf

Archive for category Short Fiction

Geektastic, edited by Holly Black and Cecil Castellucci (Little, Brown and Company, 2009)

Warrior Wisewoman, by Roby James (Norilana Books, 2008)

Wild Cards: Inside Straight, edited by George R.R. Martin (Tor, 2008)

Who Can Save Us Now? by Owen King and John McNally (Free Press, 2008)

Sword and Sorceress XXII , edited by Elisabeth Waters (Norilana Books, 2007)

Lace and Blade, by Deborah J. Ross (Norilana Books, 2008)

Strange Candy, by Laurell K. Hamilton (Berkley, 2006)

The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #15, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2002)

The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #14, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin’s Press, 2001)

The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #13, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin’s Griffin, 2000)

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