Cover of Lost Ark Dreaming, by Suyi Davies Okungbowa, featuring five high-tech towers rising from the sea at sunrise or sunset.
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Book Review: Lost Ark Dreaming, by Suyi Davies Okungbowa

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I had forgotten the publisher’s description of Lost Ark Dreaming, by Suyi Davies Okungbowa, by the time it surfaced atop my to-be-read pile. So I went in cold, and it turned out that the water was fine! This is a gripping novella that starts fast and keeps moving with swift assurance, amid brief interludes and “historical excerpts” that give more context to the action, while deftly building characters whose revealed motivations make even some surprising decisions feel natural. I enjoyed it quite a lot. Suyi Davies Okungbowa is a rising star in speculative fiction, a Nommo Award winner who has appeared twice before on Skiffy and Fanty’s website. Tonya Moore interviewed him about his work in general and specifically his The Nameless Republic trilogy. Paul Weimer’s review of the first two books in that series praised the immersive worldbuilding and said, “the two books really feel like to me a study and critique of decaying imperial power, and what happens when that eroding power slips…” Power is a major focus in this novella, too, although it’s unrelated to his previous books. Tiers of power are given physical reality, as the Uppers, Midders, and Lowers live in their respective floors of offshore towers after the seas rose and drowned Lagos, Nigeria, and surrounding coastal areas. The higher Up that one lives, the more authority, light, fresh air, and space one has; Midders keep things running and try to keep themselves from falling in status; and Lowers work and scramble to survive, down in the dark, dank floors below sea level. This novella starts off feeling like a combination of climate fiction and science fiction, although faith and fantasy elements also make themselves known eventually. Although most of the viewpoint characters (a Midder, an Upper, and a Lower) start out trying to focus on the here-and-now, and submerging past traumas (the Upper has done this so successfully that the reader sees only his ambitions throughout much of the book), events force them to confront their memories and longings for connection with other people, with the environment, and with the Unknown. Lost Ark Dreaming starts with Yekini rushing to get to work, but she hardly has time to start stressing out about the effects of lateness on her career as an analyst in civil service before she’s sent on her first solo field assignment—as a punishment? Unfortunately, it’s a trip to the Undersea levels; more unfortunately, she has to shepherd an Upper official, Ngozi, there, protecting him while trying to make him feel sufficiently deferred to; even more unfortunately, when a Lowers-level head of safety, Tuoyo, leads them to the site of a breach that she’d already patched, Yekini discovers indications of an intruder. Things rapidly spin out of all their control to go from bad to worse. Some readers may be annoyed that the novella is slightly open-ended, with no sure societal resolution to the climactic events of the finale. But the protagonists all make important decisions, including some self-sacrifices aimed at helping their community. To me, this has a hopeful ending, and I can say I am very well satisfied with the book. Along with the strong plot and characterization, the language craft in this book is worth mentioning. The Interludes are poetically dreamy, and some of the “historical excerpts” are intentionally distant and formal, but most of the prose is vivid and active. Descriptions put the reader right there: “The Lowers smelled like a damp cloth that had been locked in a steel box for years… the air weighed a ton, and Yekini’s lungs worked hard to draw it in. Her chest felt waterlogged, like a bad cough brewing.” A lot of the worldbuilding here is concrete, but I also love what the author can do with just one sentence: “Ensconced within the [glass] pendant was a flash of color, the only valuable part of the necklace—a small remnant of an aged, wrinkled orange peel.” That sets the reader imagining what kind of ruined world makes a relic like that so valuable. I love the little details like that. Finally, I’ll also mention that some elements of African culture that are woven throughout Lost Ark Dreaming enhanced my enjoyment of it—I say African rather than Yoruban, although that language is specifically mentioned, because refugees of various backgrounds have made their way to the towers, and some elements of religion, for example, have evolved to fit current circumstances. These elements strongly affect some characters’ motivations and decisions. There are further things I’d like to say about works that this novella is clearly in conversation with, but that would give away major spoilers, so I’ll stop here. Just know that Lost Ark Dreaming has my strong recommendation. Lost Ark Dreaming’s expected release date is May 21, so there’s still a short time to give it some extra love by pre-ordering it. https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250890757/lostarkdreaming Content warnings: Blood, past traumas, threatened violence, offscreen mass deaths, bad air and filth, class oppression. Comparisons: Per the publisher’s description, “The brutally engineered class divisions of Snowpiercer meets Rivers Solomon’s The Deep …” Disclaimer: I received a free eARC of this novella for review purposes.

Cover of The Immortality Thief, by Taran Hunt, featuring a wheel-type space station and some ominous eyes, possibly an alien's against a backdrop of stars. Tagline: ETERNAL LIFE IS OUT THERE. Blurb: "Fun, resonant, and compulsively readable" -- NYT bestseller Veronica Roth
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Book Review: THE IMMORTALITY THIEF by Taran Hunt

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Today I’m bringing you a short review from the backlist: Taran Hunt’s The Immortality Thief, first published in October 2022 by Solaris. It’s the first book of “The Kystrom Chronicles” series; the second volume of that series, The Unkillable Princess, is slated for publication in early 2025. Sean Wren is a talented linguist and treasure smuggler, eking out a living as one of the few survivors of a colony destroyed by The Ministers: enigmatic, immortal aliens that have taken political control over most of humanity. Standing alone against them is The Republic, a government that considers Sean and his colleagues as criminals. Capturing Sean and his childhood friend, agents of The Republic force them (using a Suicide-Squadesque bomb-in-your-head method of motivation) to take part in a special covert, off-the-records mission to salvage data from an millennia-old abandoned ship in orbit of a dying star on the edge of known space. As the only speaker of a long-dead language, Sean’s abilities are essential to the mission. Arriving at the derelict station, the team discovers they are not alone. The Republic has failed to mention a previous team was sent to the ship. The Ministers converge upon it, knowing the dangerous scientific knowledge the data on this long-lost ship contains. And the corridors of the ship are stalked by monsters and ghosts of a long forgotten past. My original plan was to review this novel soon after its release for Strange Horizons, then in late 2023 to coincide with the novel’s release in softcover. But each time I sat down to write a review, I found it difficult to organize my thoughts or decide if I really enjoyed the book, or was a bit let down by it. Even now, I’m still trying to decide. On the one hand, its short chapters and fast-paced action make for rapid and entertaining reading through a relatively long novel. But on the other hand, that entertaining plot does feel repetitive, needlessly drawn out in action thrills at the expense of probing deeper into sociopolitical themes and their link to Sean’s traumatic past. The novel is well written as pleasurable genre fun, but as I considered it beneath that exterior, experiential layer, the more it felt like a literary equivalent of empty calories. And there’s, I think, the crux of whether a reader might adore the novel or dislike it. As part of Strange Horizons‘ 2022 in Review, reviewer Eric Primm selected The Immortality Thief as a notable book among several that seemed “to fly under a lot of radars,” describing it: “… [a] science-fiction horror that surprised and delighted. After coercion from the government, Sean Wren explores an abandoned ship that has been lost to time. Racing against him are the Ministers, aliens that rule over half of humanity with an iron fist. It’s fast-paced, tense, and excellent… [It] would make an excellent video game.”  I agree wholeheartedly with Primm here. This reads like a video game, from its space opera trope-filled premise, to the execution of its pacing, to the vibes of its complex protagonist: part damaged, part hopeful, part snarky. Hunt very effectively mixes tones of horror, humor, and adventure into the novel, using backstory as foundations of literary sincerity and gravitas – almost like a game might insert those same elements through cut scenes interspersed throughout the action game-play. As speculative fiction, the one element of The Immortality Thief I most appreciated was the visual (color based) form of communication used by the Ministers. Reading how Sean used his linguistic and talents for logic to forge communication with the aliens, and slowly build a partnership of trust with one of them, stands out as the most memorable aspect of the novel for me. Those character interactions might allow the reader to figure out the ‘plot twist’ aspect of the novel a bit earlier than its full reveal in the novel, but don’t necessarily lessen its impact. As I write this I’m starting to conclude that I love all the pieces of The Immortality Thief, but they don’t add together into something that I have equal enthusiasm for. It includes a lot of elements, straddling the border of popcorn entertainment versus complex thematic depth. Succeeding in general breadth, it pulled back from any depth in any single component in favor of doubling down on keeping things broad.

The Skiffy and Fanty Show Podcasts

771. Stephanie M. Wytovich (a.k.a. The Mannequin Whisperer) — On the Subject of Blackberries

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https://media.blubrry.com/skiffyandfanty/dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/archive.org/download/sand-f-771-stephanie-wytovich/SandF_771_StephanieWytovich.mp3Podcast: Play in new window | DownloadSubscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Android | Email | TuneIn | Deezer | RSSBeautiful rage, twisted lines, and terrors of the mind, oh my! Shaun Duke, Brandon O’Brien, and Trish Matson are joined by Stephanie M. Wytovich to talk about her latest poetry collection, On the Subject of Blackberries. Together, they discuss Wytovich’s approach to poetic form, to representing post-partum depression and motherhood in speculative poetry, and so much more. Plus, Shaun reads a haiku or two because everyone asked… Thanks for listening. We hope you enjoy the episode!

Combined covers of Strange Horizons), March 11, 2024 (top), Uncanny 57 (bottom left), and Lightspeed 166 (bottom right).
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Short Fiction Review: March – April 2024

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My favorite short stories from March and April are all quite different from each other, which means you will probably enjoy at least one of them. “Fragments of a Symbiotic Life” by Will McMahon (published in Lightspeed Magazine Issue 166) is a humorous piece of flash fiction that’s likely to leave you with something more serious to think about after. “A Magical Correspondence, to the Tune of Heartstrings” by Valerie Valdes (published in Uncanny Magazine Issue 57) is a relatable romance about a busy woman trying to fit in just one more thing — in this case, a correspondence course in witchcraft. “Threshold” by Audrey Zhou (published in Strange Horizons) is for those of you who enjoy more unsettling reads, exploring what happens after death, or cool magic systems. “Fragments of a Symbiotic Life” by Will McMahon This story won over my attention and affection from its first sentence: I was born normal enough, except that I was four days late, which isn’t so much, and slightly jaundiced, which isn’t unusual, and had a raccoon for an arm, which is admittedly strange. This is flash fiction, recollections from the narrator who was born with a raccoon for an arm. This story is written in a clear, accessible manner and with a certain dry humor that many readers are likely to enjoy. A raccoon for an arm is a ludicrous concept, but the narrator’s serious, reflective tone makes it feel both plausible and hilarious. The humor is well executed and makes for a fun read, but there’s more going on here than just a playful gag. When the narrator was four years old, his parents “decided to amputate” the raccoon arm and replace it with a prosthetic. The narrator understands their decision but portrays it as just that: “their decision,” not his own. The narrator’s sadness and unease over their decision shifts the story into a more critical mode. The narrator writes that when he tells people about the raccoon, “They’re usually sympathetic. Kind. But they only see me—one broken human. Never him [the raccoon]. Never the other.” The narrator openly examines how easily we undervalue and marginalize non-human life, and it makes for a striking conclusion to the story, but there are other, less explicit, critiques that I can’t help but read into the story. The story makes me think of people with disabilities and how they can be challenged to conform to society’s norms, rather than society adapting to welcome all people. And it makes me think of people who undergo surgeries that are not medically necessary in order to better conform to society’s norms or ideals. This includes both people who make that choice for themselves (such as with certain cosmetic surgeries) and people who have that choice made for them (such as intersex children who undergo surgery to more closely align with one gender or another). In these cases, the perceived need to conform to society’s norms and ideals can ostracize, marginalize, or harm individuals. Yes, that’s serious and heavy, especially for a story that started with a raccoon for an arm — and that’s exactly what I love about this story: it’s a fun, wild gag, yet there’s also weighty stuff to dig into here if you are willing to sit with the story for a little bit longer. “A Magical Correspondence, to the Tune of Heartstrings” by Valerie Valdes Lissa is busy. Her family makes violins and harps, and they just received an unexpected order with a tight deadline. She also has her house chores, of course, and she’s on the committee organizing the Summernight dance for her village. Beyond that all — which is really more than enough — Lissa is taking a correspondence course in basic witchcraft, in which she must learn elemental cantrips, brew a potion, and create an enchantment. The course is challenging under the best of circumstances, and Lissa’s hectic schedule and chaotic, distracting family don’t help, but she is committed to persevere and see her course through to completion. The story is set in a secondary fantasy world that reminds me of Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea series, but thematically, this story feels refreshingly relatable. It’s about a busy woman trying to cram one more thing in her schedule, but this is the one rare thing that’s simply just for her and for the sake of trying something new and interesting. In Lissa’s world, witchcraft isn’t considered a practical skill, nor does she hope to turn it into a new career. It’s just something different that Lissa wanted to try out. In our world, it is too easy to spend all your energy on work, life admin, and hobbies that are really side hustles (that is, hobbies that are themselves a form of work). It can be challenging to devote the time and energy to a hobby that’s legitimately just a hobby, something you find interesting and want to do just for the sake of it. And when you do devote yourself to such a hobby, struggle through it, and persevere, it feels great! That is what’s great about this story: watching Lissa choose to do something just for herself and persevere through the challenges. It’s relatable, inspiring, and a little cozy as well. Speaking of cozy, there’s also a cute romance here. (Yet another thing Lissa is trying to fit in!) I was more drawn in by Lissa’s magical correspondence course, but the romance is quite enjoyable as well. If you like romance, cozy fantasy stories, or want to watch Lissa persevere through her correspondence course, I easily recommend this story. “Threshold” by Audrey Zhou When Li’s close friend Huyuan dies unexpectedly after her twenty-third birthday, Li has an option most of us don’t: Li can capture Huyuan’s spirit and build a new body for her to live in out of metal, wood, clay, and other materials. When Huyuan dies, it isn’t really a question for Li whether or not to do this; this is what Li

Cover of Archangels of Funk, featuring a Black woman against a red-and-blue background.
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Book Review: Archangels of Funk, by Andrea Hairston

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I loved Redwood and Wildfire when I found it in the New Books section of the library a few years ago, so I was excited to have the opportunity to read a new book set in that world, Archangels of Funk, which was published on May 7. This is a fantastic near-future book that combines magic and hopepunk with vibrant, joyful optimism, where a diverse community works together to survive and thrive as an independent cooperative amid an increasingly corpocratic world. Redwood and Wildfire was set in the American South of the 1890s, with magic, and told how Black teen Redwood Phipps and her eventual love, Aidan Wildfire Cooper, moved through time and became part of the early days of the film industry. Somehow I had missed the middle book in the series, Will Do Magic for Small Change, about their granddaughter, Cinnamon Jones, but I’m happy to say that I didn’t have any problem moving from the first book to the third; I’m sure to have missed some nuances and callbacks, but I didn’t experience any puzzlement or feel that there were any missing pieces. In fact, I’d say that a new reader could probably start with this book (although Redwood and Wildfire, at least, is great and worth finding); there are certainly references to the characters and events of Redwood and Wildfire, but they are explained well enough that there isn’t any significant missing context. Archangels of Funk is told (in third person past tense) following several points of view, including a Border Collie, another dog who’s a cyberghost, some Circus-Bots, and a friend, but the main protagonist is Cinnamon Jones. She’s a tech wizard who’s a leader in her community of farmers and Water Wars refugees but who tries to avoid being noticed by the wider world. An older woman, she’s had her share of past glories and heartbreaks. Her focus now is on helping others while honoring her ancestors and the spirits of her heritage; she doesn’t think she can change the world, but she fights to keep her corner of it viable and unique. There is a LOT going on in this book. It starts two days before the community’s annual Next World Festival, which Cinnamon runs, as she searches for one of her missing Circus-Bots. These are theatrical junk-sculptures that she had built and animated with computer code and hidden hoodoo. She finds a Circus-Bot sheltering a little girl who’d fled from child-snatchers. The Festival is an ongoing tight-time focus throughout most of the book, but there are also echoes from Cinnamon’s past that come to confront her, including former lovers and betrayers, and people who try to lure her to sell her secrets and sell out. Other subplots include various theft/con attempts, a couple of security guards who are basically just trying to get by at the start, but whom Cinnamon and the community try to influence to actually do good and be good people, an ancestral spirit who helps Cinnamon and the community but who is fading, and several budding or recurring romances. Archangels of Funk is bright and dark and jangly and eventually soothing. It’s a hard world, but when has it not been? It can be overwhelming, but Hairston passionately demonstrates in her writing that community ties of love and hope, and occasionally offering second chances to people, can make hearts soar. There are oppressive systems and a lot of exploitative individuals, but it is very much worth continuing to fight for a better world in small ways that add up to big things. I adore this book and the people in it. This is one of my favorite books so far this year. Please give it a try. Content Warnings: Deaths, threats, betrayals Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of this ebook from the publisher.

The Skiffy and Fanty Show Podcasts

770. Kevin Hearne (a.k.a. Bard Supreme) — A Curse of Krakens

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https://media.blubrry.com/skiffyandfanty/dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/archive.org/download/sand-f-770-kevin-hearne/SandF_770_KevinHearne.mp3Podcast: Play in new window | DownloadSubscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Android | Email | TuneIn | Deezer | RSSTree magic, complicated wars, and bard-acity, oh my! Shaun Duke and Paul Weimer are joined by Kevin Hearne to talk about his latest novel, A Curse of Krakens, the thrilling conclusion to The Seven Kennings series. Together, they discuss Hearne’s approach to storytelling in an epic fantasy setting, weaving complicated kingdom politics and unique magic systems into the world, the wonders of worldbuilding shenanigans, and so much more. Thanks for listening. We hope you enjoy the episode!

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