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.

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.

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.

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.

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.