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Short Fiction Review: October 2024

Covers of Lightspeed 173 and Clarkesworld 217 and the permanent Podcastle banner.

My favorite stories from October feature characters who care deeply for their local community, for communities across the world, and for their planet itself. In “Hot Hearts” by Lyndsie Manusos (published in Lightspeed Magazine Issue 173), a headstrong woman is determined to terraform a lifeless rock into a world that bears life. In “The Children of Flame” by Fiona Moore (published in Clarkesworld Magazine Issue 217), a woman tries to hold her community and its allies together when they are threatened by a contemptible acquaintance from her past. In “A Most Lovely Song” by Albert Chu (published in PodCastle Episode 861), a talking bird accompanies a Chinese boy and his descendants through times of war and protest, but the bird might not be as altruistic as it first seems. Let’s get to it. “Hot Hearts” by Lyndsie Manusos Dallas signed up and trained to foster a planet, and she chose a solo mission. Now, she has awakened from hyper sleep in a remote and lifeless solar system, and it’s her responsibility, all on her own, to guide and jump-start her planet into a habitat that can support life. She was prepared for this to be difficult, but now that she’s here, she sees it’s even more hopeless than she was prepared for. Here’s how the story begins: Dallas gazed out the viewing window of her ship, beheld her planet, and despaired. She’d anticipated something more. Better. She’d studied the worst-case scenarios. She’d read about the lost causes. But she’d never really believed one would be her first. Why had the program given her a shell? One thing I like about this story is how it diverges from more traditional narratives about terraforming planets and colonizing space. Dallas is trying not only to birth an atmosphere and make the planet capable of supporting life, but to cultivate a planet filled with life. However, there is no direct mention of preparing the planet to be colonized by humans. Earth is referred to as a failed planet and Dallas’s namesake as “a city that no longer existed”, so presumably people may want to immigrate to this planet, but colonizing the planet doesn’t seem to be the primary goal, since terraforming it will take decades or centuries and since Dallas is on only one of many such missions scattered throughout the galaxy. Instead, it seems the primary goal here is simply to foster life. It’s a beautiful vision of environmental (planetary?) stewardship. “Hot Hearts” is also just a motivating, inspiring read. Dallas wakes from hyper sleep to a monumental, near-impossible task. Sure, she feels overwhelmed and hopeless at first, but she’s intelligent, resourceful, and committed — and she has an encouraging audio diary from her mother. I found it powerful to see Dallas persevere and rise to the challenge before her. She is a headstrong character intent on bending a planet to her will, and I found it tremendously fun to watch her try. “The Children of Flame” by Fiona Moore Morag is doing the best she can in a fallen world. After society as we know it has collapsed, Morag tends to her farm, cooperates with the people around her, and tries to help them cooperate with each other. She’s pretty good at it, even when dealing with the Children of Flame, an odd group of religious nomads who spend the winter in Morag’s village. She faces a true challenge, however, when visited by a former acquaintance, a wannabe warlord running a protection racket. This story reminds me of two others. First, it reminds me of A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr. Like A Canticle for Leibowitz, it takes place after civilization has fallen, during an interregnum where some people are cooperating and trying to preserve knowledge while others work to accumulate resources and power for themselves. There’s an interesting tension in this story in which some characters feel pressured to either embrace feudalism or become nomads while Morag tries to preserve peaceful cooperation as a realistic choice. Also, like A Canticle for Leibowitz, “The Children of Flame” pays attention to the role of religion, something I always appreciate. The Children of Flame are a strange religious group who seem to abstain from talking for most of the year, who practice rituals the villagers don’t understand, and who say wonderful things like, “We have to stop the sky wolves from eating the sun.” They aren’t explained in much detail (which is a shame because I’d love to read more about them), but that isn’t a problem because they feel believable and fascinating and the core conflict in the story has more to do with the wannabe warlord. This story also reminds me of “Masque of the Red Death” by Cory Doctorow, a story included in Doctorow’s Radicalized collection which I previously reviewed on this site. Both “Masque of the Red Death” and “The Children of Flame” explore conflicts in post-apocalyptic settings between cooperators working to foster community and selfish individualists who serve only themselves. “Masque of the Red Death” is focused on a prepper who brings about his own tragedy, while “The Children of Flame” tells a story about how the cooperators manage to unite and support each other in a moment of danger, which makes this story feel more upbeat and hopeful. It also has a fun robot. You can’t go wrong with weird, friendly robots. [Editor’s note: Fiona Moore has more stories involving Morag and Seamus the robot, as well as others, at Clarkesworld.] “A Most Lovely Song” by Albert Chu This story opens in Chongqing in 1939. After a young boy’s father is killed in a Japanese bombing campaign, the boy meets a magical talking bird that offers him advice and helps lead him to safety. The story then progresses through three other scenes: Korea in 1951, New York in 1970, and New York in 2024. In these scenes, the boy and his descendants find themselves facing wars and protest movements, and always the magic bird is there

Short Fiction Review: September 2024

Cover of Uncanny Issue 60, cover art by John Picacio; and Lightspeed Issue 172, cover art by Tithi Luadthong (aka Grandfailure) / Shutterstock .

My favorite stories from September all involve things going wrong: at the office, within your community, and when you screw up your ill-conceived revenge. In “The 6% Squeeze” by Eddie Robson (published in Uncanny Magazine Issue 60), a freelancer faces an impossible assignment. In “The Ex Hex” by Jae Steinbacher (published in Lightspeed Magazine Issue 172), a witch tries to hex their ex in a fury of vengeance and screws up the spell in the process. In “We the People Excluding I” by Osahon Ize-Iyamu (also published in Lightspeed Magazine Issue 172), the very world seems to be falling apart when a new leader steps forward with a risky ritual promising to restore balance. Let’s dive in. “The 6% Squeeze” by Eddie Robson At work, Miles is tasked with the impossible. In this case, that means designing packaging for a “Mr Zeb” branded mug. The dimensions are already set, and the company style bible is extremely particular and “must be obeyed to the letter.” The style bible features exacting imperatives such as “Height of largest Mr Zeb™ image must be at least 30% the height of the packaging.” Given those strict imperatives, and considering the physical limitations of the packaging that Miles must work within, Miles realizes that the task before him is quite literally impossible. Miles does the reasonable thing and emails his coordinator outlining the problem. He even sends a follow-up, noting the urgent deadline. However, when he receives no response, he deviates — ever so slightly — from the style bible to make a functional design that he can turn in, figuring that something is better than nothing, reasoning that if there’s an actual problem, at least then someone will get back to him to discuss it. I will stop summarizing here so as to avoid spoiling the story, but I will warn you that it becomes surprisingly violent. This is a story that you either should read because you will love it or should actually skip over because it will make you irate. It’s a comically absurd take on dysfunctional, toxic corporate cultures that ask the impossible, punish you for failing to deliver it, and thereby breed fear and paranoia. I want to say it’s relatable, but Robson stretches the ordinary nonsense of office life into such a ludicrous torment that you’ll have to either laugh at the absurdity or cry in despair. Personally, I greatly enjoyed it, but I would only recommend this story to readers with a taste for dark humor. “The Ex Hex” by Jae Steinbacher This story hooked my attention from the first paragraph, which clearly introduces both the protagonist and their conflict, so let me simply share it with you here: Talis had a problem. They’d copied the spell incorrectly, in a fury, after seeing photos of their ex with a new date in “their” spot. Adelite was supposed to have experienced a night of terrible dreams leading to a remorseful morning after. Instead, he just hadn’t woken up. I love the way this story is written. The prose is clear, immediate, and compelling. The characters are fun and easy to imagine, and the conflict is engaging and surprisingly relatable. (Botching a hex? Not so much. But acting on a bad idea and screwing things up? Oh yeah.) I particularly enjoyed the casual way characters spoke to each other, such as “Yep, that’s a fuckup, all right.” What’s best about this story is its themes of justice, community, and friendship. This story is firmly rooted in restorative justice and community reparations. Talis knows they messed up and wants to make it right. They are willing to take the blame for their actions, and they want to repair the harm they caused. It’s hard, but their friends are there to support them — and to help hold them accountable. As one of Talis’ friends says, “Friends help friends, eh? You’re going to have to make reparations, but let the community handle that and not the ‘justice system’.” If I were to teach restorative justice, I’d likely start by asking folks to read this story. It’s an excellent and heartwarming illustration of these principles and a vision of justice that cares less about punishment and more about repairing harms and strengthening community. And as a bonus, it’s got lovely queer and trans representation. “We the People Excluding I” by Osahon Ize-Iyamu This is another story about the vital importance of community, but whereas “The Ex Hex” shows the presence and support of community, “We the People Excluding I” explores exclusion and isolation from community. Where “The Ex Hex” is cozy and nourishing, this story is darker and fiercer. The story begins when the world is unstable and falling apart. In this world prone to disasters and increasingly inhospitable to life, the narrator lives in a deeply collectivist society. They say, “I could walk to the ends of the earth and still see my mother, and still see my fathers. They’re a fluid group of roles and assignments, constant to change over time as I grow.” In these trying times, a leader with a smile “as predatory as a fox’s” steps forward with a solution: one person needs to disappear. If this person can sacrifice themselves and be exiled, be “separated and isolated from this community, to be never found by anyone from our society again, then the world can be restored.” For the good of their community, the narrator volunteers, but it is a more perilous assignment than they first realize. The fox man continues to hunt and threaten them, even as they try to run farther and farther away. This story has a beautiful quality of folklore to it. It features a shape-shifting trickster fox and giants who live in the south of the world. The instability of the world reminds me as easily of Noah and the great flood as it does the perils of our changing climate. The story feels mythic, like a fable passed down from generations, meant

787. From Hell It Came (1957) — Torture Cinema #145

https://media.blubrry.com/skiffyandfanty/dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/archive.org/download/sand-f-787-from-hell-it-came/SandF_787_FromHellItCame.mp3Podcast: Play in new window | DownloadSubscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Android | Email | TuneIn | Deezer | RSSVengeful trees, casual colonialism, and confusing scientific romances, oh my! Shaun Duke, Trish Matson, and David Annandale join forces to discuss 1957’s From Hell It Came! Together, they tackle the film’s 1950s vibes, lessons for how best to kill a tree monster, and questionable colonial ethics. Plus much more! Thanks for listening. We hope you enjoy the episode!

785. Diadem From the Stars by Jo Clayton (1977) — Mining the Genre Asteroid

https://media.blubrry.com/skiffyandfanty/dts.podtrac.com/redirect.mp3/archive.org/download/sand-f-785-diademfromthe-stars/SandF_785_DiademfromtheStars.mp3Podcast: Play in new window | DownloadSubscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | Android | Email | TuneIn | Deezer | RSSSandals, toxic alphas, and questionable power, oh my! Shaun Duke, Trish Matson, and Paul Weimer join forces to discuss Jo Clayton’s Diadem from the Stars (1977). Together, they explore the book’s approach to gender and societal structures, its response to sword and sandal sexual politics, what it means to have psionic powers, and much more. Thanks for listening. We hope you enjoy the episode!

Short Fiction Review: July – August 2024

Composite of magazine covers, clockwise from top left:: Lightspeed 170, Uncanny 59, Lightspeed 171, Clarkesworld 214.

Let me tell you about my four favorite stories from July and August. … Have you read these stories? What did you like about them? What were your favorite stories from the last couple months?