Short Fiction Review: March–April 2026
One of my favorite things about science fiction and fantasy literature is its ability to portray nonhuman viewpoints. This month, all my favorite stories do that.
One of my favorite things about science fiction and fantasy literature is its ability to portray nonhuman viewpoints. This month, all my favorite stories do that.
I’ve been a fan of Ada Hoffman since I ran across some of their stories on podcasts (I reviewed their collection Resurrections here) and read their trilogy that started with The Outside (reviewed here by Kate Sherrod). Some of those stories and especially The Outside trilogy dealt with artificial intelligence, but there the term referred to the older idea of supercomputers gaining intelligence (and sometimes ruling humanity). Hoffman’s new book, Ignore All Previous Instructions, out today, deals with generative AI (Large Language Models using predictive text) rather than true AI, but because one corporation has bought all the rights to all stories of the past, present, and future (at least for anyone who lives near Jupiter), it’s also about who gets to tell stories, what stories are allowed to be told, and what happens with some people whose lives don’t exactly fit into the greatest-common-denominator story framework. It’s a great book, with thoughtful explorations of ideas and what feels like great characterization of an autistic lesbian storyteller who thinks following the rules will keep herself and others safe, and her former best friend, a hacker who delights in breaking what he considers bad rules. It’s also an exciting adventure with heartbreak, passion, and piracy (stealing from the rich and/or evil to redistribute ill-gotten gains to the needy).
https://media.blubrry.com/skiffyandfanty/dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/archive.org/download/sand-f-859-deaf-crocodile_202605/SandF_859_DeafCrocodile.mp3Podcast: Play in new window | DownloadSubscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Android | iHeartRadio | Podchaser | Podcast Index | Email | TuneIn | Deezer | RSSAlien discos, mysterious resorts, and film restoration, oh my! Shaun Duke and Daniel Haeusser join forces to talk w/ Dennis Bartok and Craig Rogers about Deaf Crocodile Films. Together, they talk about how they got into film restoration, the trials and wonders of the process, global cinema, their upcoming Roy from Space release AND their latest release, Dead Mountaineer’s Hotel. Thanks for listening. We hope you enjoy the episode!
Either her husband is crazy, or he is lying, or he is telling the truth and can really communicate with spirits of the deceased. Each possibility is more frightening to Evelyn than the prior, for she holds a dark secret that Robert or his Spiritualist medium companions might discover from a ghost and memory that still haunts her.
There are some rather lovely ideas and bits here, especially in the extensive worldbuilding. The arguments over the geometry and topography of hell are fascinating. But the ultimate ending as well as what the novel builds up to feels underwhelming. It builds to a conclusion that really didn’t match up with what the novel seemed to be trying to do. I enjoyed parts of the journey far more than the destination itself.
Joey (Olivia Taylor Dudley) and Craig (Jordan Gavaris) are two Millennial (Gen Y) friends/roommates who slip through life in a codependent relationship that avoids past trauma or current responsibility in shared coping mechanisms of alcohol, vaping, and dark humor. Until Joey meets the bizarre and entrancing Brian, a tracksuit-wearing self-professed extra-terrestrial who can calm Joey’s anxiety with a simple touch. Brian tells Joey that he is an orphan and refugee from a planet lost to climate change, but that he brought with him special trees that will help rescue Earth before it is too late. Joey rapidly falls under Brian’s seductive spell, until a moment of intense tentacle-filled cross-species sex drives her from him in fear. Joey relates this story in an engrossing, almost-ten minute monologue that opens Touch Me (2025) as the camera slowly zooms in on Joey’s face as she responds during a psychiatry session to her therapist’s suggesting of combating anxiety with absurdity. Then the film gets weirder.