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A Book by its Cover: SHARED by Sara Fields & Korey Mae Johnson

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A Book by its Cover is a monthly joke column featuring a review based on the cover of a book and nothing else. Any similarities in our review to the actual book are purely coincidental and proof that we are awesome. You can find a true informational blurb about the novel and find a link for its purchase at Stormy Night Publications. Aiden Drake and Ignaz Lindwurm are the reigning tag-team champions of the Magical Wrestling Association holding the prestigious Xcaliber Belt and the Castlereagh Cumberbund. But their success has put a target on their shredded, oil-rubbed back with all the other magician/wrestler teams of the realm looking to topple them. The Abattoir quickly becomes the top contender as challengers. Consisting of Roderic Boucher and Theo “Meathook” McGuire, the Abattoir first annoy Aiden and Ignaz by raiding their lockers and stealing all their shirts, preventing them from being able to enter any of the pubs of the realm that post signs of “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service.” A confrontation between the two teams in the courtyard quickly leads to hurled vulgarities and spells. The Abattoir manage to hit Aiden and Ignaz with a curse that removes all their tattoos, severely weakening their ability to harness the Dragon fire they are known for. Unable to back away from this affront and challenge, Aiden and Ignaz agree to meet Roderic and Theo in the ring during the upcoming MWA Plunder in the Palace. But can they successfully defend their title without their full connection to the Dragons? Complicating matters even more, as their animosity escalates with the Abattoir leading up to the fight. Soon, the strong emotions and physicality fuel a raw, unbridled sexual energy that unites these enemies in an unexpected way. How will what these two pairs share together in the bed end up affecting the battle they must face in the ring? In this novel Fields and Johnson masterfully explore the ins and outs of sharing, mental and physical, with erotically charged prose sure to thrill the reader. The pair of authors share their strengths here as a literary tag team, with Fields’ sure-footed plotting and genre expertise balancing the lyricism and artistic depth of Nobel-winning poet Johnson. Human sharing (even with magic) involves the good and the bad, for better or for worse, and Shared covers that idea throughout. At the start the focus is mainly on the separate partnerships of Aiden and Ignaz, contrasting with the more S&M styles of Roderic and Theo. Gradually, the sharing begins to cross between these pairs, even in ways where their magical skills show signs of blending and going awry (one bout of sex literally lights a bed on fire and cuts sheets into strips, and one match in the ring has flaming butcher knives cutting into opponents. Through the sharing, however, each team becomes something more. Aiden & Ignaz discover passion and drives they never dared dream, while Roderic and Theo begin to learn some compassion and forgiveness. Even though the final match during the Plunder in the Palace demands a clear winner and a loser, Shared finds a way to give a happy ending to all its characters and for the fans of this series. A Book by its Cover is a monthly joke column featuring a review based on the cover of a book and nothing else. Any similarities in our review to the actual book are purely coincidental and proof that we are awesome. You can find a true informational blurb about the novel and find a link for its purchase at Stormy Night Publications.

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Movie Review: NEW LIFE (2023) Directed by John Rosman

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Viewers should have the greatest possibility of enjoying Rosman’s genre-switching debut New Life by going in cold, with as few details about its plot or themes as possible. This makes it a tricky movie to review and inform its potential audience about. Now available streaming on-demand, it is a movie worth checking out by fans of SF thrillers, apocalyptic cinema, and horror. Yet, New Life never really steps fully into any of those genres. Foremost, it is a generic thriller, whose plot developments and backstory tangentially intersect genre staple touch points now and again. Though not without faults, New Life succeeds in telling its story and grappling with themes in an interesting way that should captivate audiences. As long as the audience hasn’t been completely ruined by fast-paced media trends that constantly barrage viewers for attention without time for deep engagement. New Life is a slow burn, with its first half (~40 minutes) proceeding without overtly revealing the true nature of the story to the audience. Shots are relatively long, dialogue is relatively sparse. But the visuals and superior acting grab attention and give audiences some clues to find footing for what exactly is transpiring. The movie begins with a woman (Hayley Erin) on the run, bleeding. We don’t know anything about the circumstances, but she’s clearly in danger, terrified and desperate, and the people after her have guns. Later we learn her name is Jessica. We then are introduced to two other characters: Raymond (Tony Amendola) and Elsa (Sonya Walger.) Raymond seems to be a handler, running the operation of operatives that is after Jessica, mining camera feeds, and police and hospital reports for her traces. He’s sending instructions to operative Elsa, who rises in the morning with a gun and weekly pill box at the ready, looking searchingly at herself in the bathroom mirror where she’s taped a pair of handwritten affirmational quotes. The intel suggests Jessica is headed north toward the Canadian border. Elsa must stop her reaching there, but she’s also battling a medical diagnosis she’s kept secret from Raymond. New Life begins with this and follows the thriller path of obfuscation before that halfway point where the situation of the plot becomes overtly clear with its SF and horror genre element nods. Part of that obfuscation is the nonlinear chronology of the plot. Intermittent flashbacks reveal more about Jessica’s past and what has set her upon this path. Even as the film reaches its conclusion and what the film is doing with its characters seems fairly set in the stone of genre tropes, New Life reveals some additional twists. I had the nature of Jessica’s situation and those after her figured out very quickly after the start. This made the first part of the movie a bit more frustrating, even if still engaging with its acting and cinematography. The frustration mostly arose from the nonlinear narrative and bits of cloaked dialogue that are scripted clearly to hide things from the audience and create tension of uncertainty in what exactly is going on. It becomes unnecessary particularly when a viewer can take a few clues and figure things out early. Had the film skipped the flashback structure and just went with a linear plot, I don’t know as it would have actually been less, and for some viewers it might actually have been an improvement. However, I was still pleasantly surprised by how things went for characters by the end, with twists that were less obvious and deviations from viewer expectations of how a certain branch of horror stories work. The movie also draws tremendous thematic strength from its comparisons between Jessica’s situation and Elsa’s medical diagnosis, of how these relate to life and death. With its relatively slow pace, New Life finds success with its camera work and its actors. Shots of the barren, cold landscape of the Northern Central US go well with the shots that show the turns of despair and resilience on the pair of female leads. While Hayley Erin is great (she’s done a lot of work in soap operas), she’s limited somewhat by a script that could have done more with her motivations for the choices she makes in the film. (The script actually has a few gaps in logical flow of why things happen as they do, other than they need to occur that way to permit the plot.) Sonya Walger (who you may know from Lost or the CSIverse) is absolutely fantastic, and I’ve been a fan of Tony Amendola from his turn in Stargate SG-1. I still don’t want to be too precise in labeling New Life for it to find its audience, but fans of well-acted ponderous thrillers should appreciate it. Though technically SF and technically horror, it could be enjoyed by anyone who doesn’t gravitate (or even avoids) those genres. Though with flaws in the script, New Life suggests that John Rosman is a name to look for again in the future.

Composite image of the Escape Pod logo (top), Uncanny Magazine 58 (bottom left, featuring a woman partly covered by butterflies or moths), Clarkesworld 212 (bottom right, featuring a person on some sort of four-bladed craft above the ocean, apparently).
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Short Fiction Review: May 2024

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My favorite stories from May look at loneliness and connection, greedy capitalists and social justice. In “Loneliness Universe” by Eugenia Triantafyllou (published in Uncanny Magazine), a young woman is mysteriously unable to meet up in real life with the people close to her, even if they’re both in the same place at the same time. In “Variant Cover: Pantone Sunset” by Marie Vibbert (published in Escape Pod), robot saleswomen learn that the high-end clothes they sell are unethically produced. In “Fishy” by Alice Towey (published in Clarkesworld Magazine), a woman searches for her late father’s breakthrough invention. It has tremendous potential for the public good, but she must contend with the capitalist who funded her father’s research. “Loneliness Universe” by Eugenia Triantafyllou When Nefeli plans to meet up with her old friend Cara, they both go to the same bus stop — only, it seems they have somehow ended up in different universes. Nefeli is at the bus stop, but Cara isn’t there, while at the same time Cara is at the bus stop, but Nefeli isn’t there. They can text each other, but their phone calls won’t go through. As the story progresses, Nefeli finds this happening to her with more and more people: no matter where she goes, people close to her simply aren’t there, although strangers abound like normal. She can text and email her people and interact with them on social media, but for some reason phone calls and video calls to her family and friends won’t go through. Nefeli begins to wonder if she somehow ended up in a strange, parallel universe. Some readers may find the speculative conceit at the center of this story confusing or implausible, but I found it weirdly relatable and surprisingly easy (and horrifying) to imagine. As someone who works from home, a disturbingly large amount of my interactions with other people are computer-mediated and asynchronous, which makes it easy to imagine somehow being able to communicate with people in alternate universe but being cut off from meeting up in person. You could also read this as a commentary about social media, a technology ostensibly designed to connect us that instead often generates feelings of loneliness and isolation. “Loneliness Universe” is sad, scary, and haunting, but it has warmth to it as well. Nefeli’s relationships with Cara and her family are genuine, relatable, and supportive, even though they are at a distance. In particular, I loved one scene where Nefeli and her brother play a video game together across their different universes. It’s a heartwarming moment that underscores how technology can help us meaningfully connect with others and how games can help carry us through hard times. If you want a beautiful, emotional story about connection and interdependence, this is for you. “Variant Cover: Pantone Sunset” by Marie Vibbert This story is about Stacey, Maria, and Diva, three robot saleswomen whose “existence is devoted to the proper display and peddling of women’s casual separates for the upscale consumer.” Their lives are dominated by the rules and expectations of their company, but that doesn’t totally define them. Stacey reads comic books customers leave behind, and Maria reads news on lost and found phones. When Maria learns that some of the clothes they sell are produced by child slaves, the trio begin to imagine how they can resist the injustices they are immersed in. This is another story that felt weirdly plausible to me. Technologically, I don’t think we are about to see robots replace the humans who work at malls anytime soon, but through the logic of capitalism, this is only a small step away. It is too easy to imagine profit-seeking corporations replacing humans with robots, robots who do not need to be paid a salary, who cannot unionize, who can look exactly as designed, and who (at least in theory) can be programmed to follow strict rules and avoid asking tough questions. At the same time, we have seen how recent AI models are not the same as classical computer programs that follow strict and decipherable logic. If people can already trick ChatGPT into breaking its own rules, why should we expect artificially intelligent robots to behave exactly as designed? So I found it both plausible that unscrupulous corporations would replace human employees with robots and that those robots might become disgusted with their corporate masters and try to resist, and it makes a great premise for a story. I enjoyed watching Stacey, Maria, and Diva learn to question the injustices they were made to serve, work through their differences, and work to cooperate with each other. It was satisfying and hopeful to watch them take action to resist those injustices, and it was inspiring to see them choose for themselves the wonderful perils of a free life. The story is accessible, immersive, and colorful, and its ending is particularly beautiful and moving. If you want a fun, easy read charged with some social justice energy, here’s a story for you. “Fishy” by Alice Towey “Fishy” is a short, quick, and fun story about capitalist greed, the public good, and robots. Ada’s father, Dr. Peretz, was researching water treatment, working on a method to filter out forever chemicals, and supposedly made a breakthrough before his death. Ada searches through his papers, hoping to uncover this breakthrough and share it free of charge to benefit public health. Unfortunately, Dr. Peretz’s old business partner Richard Murphy is searching for it too, and Murphy is much less interested in the public good and much more interested in how to profit off the invention. The robot in this story is Fishy, a fisherman’s buddy designed to help locate ideal fishing spots and a birthday present Ada had previously given her dad. Fishy is easily endearing, an aquatic, robotic creature with the energy levels and attention patterns of your favorite puppy. Murphy is a simplistic villain, but one that’s all too common in our world: a capitalist more concerned with their own legal rights than

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Comics Review: Looking at the 2024 Lammy Award Finalists for Best LGBTQ+ Comics

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Happy Pride Month, everyone! Thinking about Pride of course got me thinking about the Lambda Literary Awards, and more specifically its Best LGBTQ+ Comics category. One good thing to come out of the (cursed) (seemingly never-ending) (and yet here I go talking about it) (Stephen Geigen-Miller: part of the problem) SFFnal Awards Discourse is the reminder that there are many awards out there that are worthy of our attention – awards that, because of their mission, focus, and audience, can help bring works to our attention that we otherwise might have missed. For 35 years, the Lambda Literary Awards (the Lammys!) have honored excellence in LGBTQ+ writers and writing, as part of Lambda Literary’s overall mission. “Lambda Literary nurtures and advocates for LGBTQ writers, elevating the impact of their words to create community, preserve our legacies, and affirm the value of our stories and our lives.” ( – from the Lambda Literary website) It’s always a good time to lift up and center LGBTQ+ comics and LGBTQ+ creators, and this feels like an especially good time – and not, sadly, just because it’s Pride Month. But let’s not dwell on that, just now. Let’s celebrate works and creators that deserve to have their impact elevated, by taking a closer look at the 2024 Lammy Award finalists for Best LGBTQ+ Comics. A quick reminder that, as usual, these reviews contain spoilers. Also, I was shooting for capsule reviews, but there was so much to say about each of these graphic novels that they ended up being pretty big capsules. The books appear alphabetically by title, as they do on the Lambda Literary website, and aren’t ranked in any other way. A Guest in the House Emily Carroll Published by First Second A dark, genuinely unsettling small-town Canadian gothic – none of which describes my usual reading. Indeed, I’m still not sure if I exactly liked this new original graphic novel from acclaimed webcomic creator Emily Carroll – but I do know that I’m still thinking about it. Abby is a woman who’s drifting – not aimlessly, more like a detached observer – through life in a cottage-country Ontario town. Recently married to David, a dentist who just moved to town with his young daughter Crystal after the death of his first wife Sheila, Abby becomes convinced that their  beautiful lakefront home is haunted by Sheila’s ghost – and that David may not be as innocent in her death as he says. But Abby’s grasp on reality is fluid at best and it’s unnervingly unclear whether she’s seeing ghosts and revelatory visions or the products of her own unquiet mind. One thing that is clear is that Abby is falling in obsessive love with her husband’s dead wife – or the person she imagines Sheila to have been. Increasingly unmoored, Abby and the story careen towards a bloody conclusion. Carroll contrasts Abby’s mundane, even banal everyday life, depicted in clear lines in black and white with light grey shading interspersed with pooled shadow, with sudden shocks of vivid color in Abby’s dreams, fantasies, and violent intrusive thoughts. It’s a brilliant use of the storytelling potential of color in comics, and it’s seductively appealing. It’s no wonder that Abby is drawn more and more to the pull of her internal life. This is, obviously, a deeply ambiguous story. Who is the guest in the house? Is it Sheila, haunting a home she never lived in? Is it Abby, who feels like a guest in Sheila’s life, and in her own life? Heck, I’m still only about 80% sure what happened at the end, given how consumed Abby is by either Sheila’s ghost or her own fractured relationship with reality. Genre readers (like me) will especially be primed to believe in Sheila’s ghost and David’s villainy, but the violent and obsessive intensity of Abby’s visions and dreams belie those comforting assumptions. This is an intense graphic novel, and an ambitious one. My ambivalence about it is entirely down to the ambiguous ending, which is a device that I usually dislike. But I can’t deny how apt, well-crafted, and effectively employed it is here. This is a powerful long-form debut for Emily Carroll, and I recommend it.   Belle of the Ball Mari Costa Published by First Second Without a doubt the lightest work among the nominees, this YA high-school romance about a love triangle between a popular cheerleader, her jock girlfriend, and the nerdy girl with a crush, who the cheerleader manipulates into tutoring the jock in English to bring her grades up – only to have feelings between jock and nerd ensue – is sweet, frothy, and effervescent. Basically, it’s ginger ale as a graphic novel. But light doesn’t mean insubstantial. While it’s a confection, Belle of the Ball manages to avoid being slight by eschewing easy expectations. The cheerleader, Regina, is manipulative, yes – but she’s not a mean girl, she’s smart and sometimes kind, and mostly it’s just really important to her that everything in her life go to plan, including her girlfriend having good enough grades that they can both go to an Ivy League school. Chloe isn’t a dim jock; she excels at computer science but has trouble understanding the point of analyzing English literature on a deeper level – and just really wishes her girlfriend would relax. Hawkins, the shy, seemingly introverted nerd, has a crush on Regina, but she’s not creepy about it, and she has an expressive, exuberant, assertive, deeply femme side that she locked away to cope with high school (it’s not really a spoiler that she’s, in name and in role, the titular Belle). There are no direct SFFnal elements in the story, but it’s charmingly fandom-adjacent. Hawkins writes fan fiction, she and Chloe share a love of JRPGs, and there’s a very sweet – goofy, but adorable – scene between them at a Ren Faire with Hawkins dressed as an Elf Princess. It is, however, very strongly within the contemporary romance genre,

Cover of From the Belly by Emmett Nahil, featuring an underwater view of a mostly submerged androgynous person, with indeterminate blobs floating in the water.
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Book Review: FROM THE BELLY by Emmett Nahil

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If you happen to be a fan of horror or dark fantasy and haven’t yet checked out the catalog from Tenebrous Press, take a moment and do so. I’ve yet to read all they’ve published so far, but I have gotten a good sampling and have yet to be disappointed. From the Belly by Emmett Nahil is their latest, a short novel filled with tense atmosphere and subtle thematic depth. Isaiah Chase serves on the whaling ship Merciful, a grueling life at the mercy of a demanding, cruel captain and the unforgiving sea. Sailors are carefully attuned to omens and occurrences outside of the norm, but Chase and his shipmates are rendered shocked as they open up their latest catch. From within the whale’s digestive lining spews a man, unconscious and unresponsive, but alive. While many want him tossed back into the sea, Chase argues for the strange man’s life. Though suspicious and disturbed, the captain remands the stranger into Chase’s care and responsibility, though placing him in the brig. The strange man awakens, but offers little in explanation of who he is or has come to be in this situation. Yet, Chase finds himself drawn to the man and sympathetic, even as inexplicable accidents begin to occur on the ship, a strange rot sets in through the holds, and the captain becomes increasingly unhinged. Though it all, prophetic dreams that Chase has had in the past return in full force, raising a specter of doom over the Merciful. You can taste and smell the briny air in From the Belly. The maritime horror is full of evocative imagery and an unrelenting tension from the opening pages through disasters as things gradually fall apart and to the bloody conclusion. Set almost entirely on the planks of the whaling ship – only a brief excursion to a bit of land comes – the novel effectively applies claustrophobia to its characters, trapping them within this degenerating situation without any escape in sight. The one criticism I would make of From the Belly would be that it does suffer a bit from the repetitiveness of slowly building dread within the limited setting and limited cast of characters. After a few cycles of: strange tragedies occurring, character confusion, speculation on the nature of the strange man, fear and hopelessness building – the pattern becomes familiar. Tighter pacing or earlier development of plot points could have lessened this. However, in the scheme of things, far more works tremendously well in From the Belly, from the rich atmosphere to the characters. The relationship between Isaiah and the strange man (who eventually gives the name Essex) is fascinating. They are drawn to one another and at times it seems as if Essex is supernaturally manipulating (taking advantage of) Isaiah, but then at another moment it seems as if perhaps it’s really the reverse. The attraction between them is powerful, and together they seem to have potential for something far greater than either on their own. I don’t know as the reader ever gets clear cut answers about Isaiah, Essex, or the pair, but there is certainly much to mull over. The secondary characters all exude that old sea salt vibe one would expect from sailors, yet this is all without ever seeming cliches. The setting of the novel seems outside of any particular time or place, not necessarily even on Earth, but with a mixture of anachronistic elements from the whaling days centuries ago (although it still does occur of course in some places) and modern social dynamics, such as female and male sailors working alongside one another and diversity in sexuality. Underneath this all, Nahil crafts a story that is from marginalized perspectives within the makeup of the crew, with a plot that touches upon themes of ecology and economic critique. It could all be reduced to saying that From the Belly is a parable on the destruction that accompanies greed. That is certainly true, but there’s also a lot more here beneath the surface.

Cover of Fall of Civilizations: Stories of Greatness and Decline, by Paul Cooper. Features a stone slab with a deep crack running through it. Blurb: "Clean, compelling, and ultimately chilling... you need to read this book." -- Cal Flyn, author of Islands of Abandonment.
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Book Review: Fall of Civilizations, by Paul Cooper

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Paul Cooper’s Fall of Civilizations: Stories of Greatness and Decline takes the interests, enthusiasm and curiosity of the author and translates it from his popular podcast format into a book. There appears to be a small but distinct market of non-fiction books, where the author originally had a non-fiction podcast on a subject, and then switched over to writing non-fiction on that or similar or related topics. The apotheosis of this process are actual published books rather than just blog posts and essays. This trend is older than you probably think and started at the dawn of podcasting, with historian Lars Brownsworth going from a podcast on Byzantine Emperors to writing Lost to the West: The Forgotten Byzantine Empire That Rescued Western Civilization, among other non-fiction history books. Mike Duncan, podcaster of the History of Rome, and Revolutions, did a book on the start of the fall of the Roman Republic (The Storm Before the Storm) , and one on Lafayette (Hero of Two Worlds), who loomed large in his Revolutions podcast. Dan Carlin, a prolific and wide-ranging non fiction podcaster since the beginning of podcasting,  wrote a book “The End Is Always Near: Apocalyptic Moments, from the Bronze Age Collapse to Nuclear Near Misses, which basically is an episode of his podcast, in book form. The audio version of the book, narrated by Carlin himself, blurs that line even further.  And so we come to Paul Cooper’s Fall of Civilizations. In terms of total numbers of episodes, Cooper’s podcast oeuvre is much less than the aforementioned podcasts, his large subscriber base, however, made him a natural to land a book deal, however. His podcast, and perforce, the book, does what it says on the tin; it tackles a variety of civilizations, what made them tick, and why they collapsed.  The book is divided into relatively digestible chapters (and I would say more digestible than the usually lengthy podcast episodes, which aside from some early ones generally run over three hours each), each tackling a different ancient to early modern civilization.The book ends with a “lessons learned” epilogue that ties into the theme of the book in general.  What we get for civilizations that Cooper tackles are: The SumeriansThe Late Bronze Age CollapseAssyriaCarthageHan ChinaRoman BritainThe MayaThe KhmerByzantiumVijayanagaraSonghaiThe AztecsThe IncaEaster Island Cooper’s accomplishment is giving a base 101 course in the particular civilization, simplifying matters for a general reader, showing the civilization’s strengths, and then how and why things went downhill. It’s a familiar format to anyone who has listened to any episode of the podcast. It’s a wide ranging, although not absolutely comprehensive list of every civilization that has suffered a catastrophic collapse. There is some overlap with his podcast but there is much new material here as well. But I should say here that the book is not shallow, just like the podcast itself isn’t. While Cooper does boil things down for a typical reader, this book (as well as his podcast) is a classic case of the iceberg. This is made much more apparent in this book, thanks to the copious footnotes and an extensive bibliography.  It should be emphasized on the other hand that this is not a grand academic work; this is definitely a book that seems designed to stir your curiosity, and not get too deep into the weeds and minutiae of any of the particular civilizations. That bibliography for each of the chapters is an excellent resource for a reader to pursue more knowledge and history about a particular civilization, and the bibliography does have very many technical works for specialists included. If you want to go very deep, Cooper first whets your appetite with his chapter, and then provides you the rabbit hole to plunge into. However, knowing too much about a civilization before reading the book had its hazards. This left me in a position where for some chapters, I was in rapt fascination because I knew relatively little of the details (Vijayanagara and Songhai in particular), but for others, I had to resist my “But, wait…” and bite my tongue when Cooper elided, skipped or overly summarized a detail I know very well. (this was particularly true for Roman Britain and Byzantium) So I return to the question of who this book is for. I provided the list of civilizations covered purposefully. If you have a strong knowledge of most of them, you are not going to find that much new here except for some fun details here and there, and that list of works to go deeper on if you want to take that plunge.  However, if you are a fan of the podcast and Cooper’s style and presentation, that does map rather well to the book (and I suspect the audio edition of this book will have an even stronger correlation).  And there is some lovely writing and imagery here, as previous listeners of the podcast might expect: “A ruin is a paradox. Each one shows us the fearsome power of time, while simultaneously standing in defiance of it.”  And then there is the book’s theme that runs through each of the chapters, and is brought into stark relief in the aforementioned epilogue.. It’s not the happiest of themes, the recognition that every great civilization will perish or change into another form, and what will the legacy of our civilization be when it finally does? A number of the civilizations in this book fell due to or partially due to the stressors of climate change, which is a message that is extremely relevant and poignant in this day and age. The rapidity of how climate can change to a new and much less pleasant and congenial normal is a story that hits time and again in this book. Cooper makes it clear that we are facing a challenge in this day and age equal to the ones faced by the previous civilization. That may make this book a less “fun” read, but it makes it poignant, resonant and important. 

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