Equally touching, tender, and socially exploratory, A Rarefied View At Dawn by David Farland is a short story that takes place in the far future on a Equally touching, tender, and socially exploratory, A Rarefied View At Dawn by David Farland is a short story that takes place in the far future on a planet far from here.
Men and women are segregated by gender and on the mountain top fortress of Kara Kune most births are controlled, allowing only females to be born. But not always. Bann is a boy, but until he begins to approach puberty he doesn't realize that there are any differences between himself and the others around him, including his best friend Maya. Only then does his mother take him on a journey that will change his view of everything.
The story begins high on a mountain above thick heavy mists and clouds over a low, sweaty jungle, and as the story progresses the reader literally and figuratively descends with Bann and Maya from the heights of innocence. It's a dystopian society, and Farland's short tale is a curious exploration at what happens when trends are taken to the extreme.
What is most interesting, though, might be Farland's notes to the story. He tells a personal story about young woman who bounced from destructive relationship to destructive relationship, and his desire to examine what he sees as a societal trend towards the abandonment of young men and his interest in what happens if we allow these trends to cycle out of control.
The end result is a society that is, to say the least, distressing and destructive, hardly the kind that any of us would want. But that's exactly what fiction is supposed to do: to hold up a mirror to our own world and ask what will happen if we continue down the current path. Farland does it well here, and I laud the effort, despite its conclusion.
Merged review:
Equally touching, tender, and socially exploratory, A Rarefied View At Dawn by David Farland is a short story that takes place in the far future on a planet far from here.
Men and women are segregated by gender and on the mountain top fortress of Kara Kune most births are controlled, allowing only females to be born. But not always. Bann is a boy, but until he begins to approach puberty he doesn't realize that there are any differences between himself and the others around him, including his best friend Maya. Only then does his mother take him on a journey that will change his view of everything.
The story begins high on a mountain above thick heavy mists and clouds over a low, sweaty jungle, and as the story progresses the reader literally and figuratively descends with Bann and Maya from the heights of innocence. It's a dystopian society, and Farland's short tale is a curious exploration at what happens when trends are taken to the extreme.
What is most interesting, though, might be Farland's notes to the story. He tells a personal story about young woman who bounced from destructive relationship to destructive relationship, and his desire to examine what he sees as a societal trend towards the abandonment of young men and his interest in what happens if we allow these trends to cycle out of control.
The end result is a society that is, to say the least, distressing and destructive, hardly the kind that any of us would want. But that's exactly what fiction is supposed to do: to hold up a mirror to our own world and ask what will happen if we continue down the current path. Farland does it well here, and I laud the effort, despite its conclusion....more
The Hugo nominees were announced last Saturday, and Totaledby Kary English was among the nominees for Best Short Story. I try to read and review as maThe Hugo nominees were announced last Saturday, and Totaledby Kary English was among the nominees for Best Short Story. I try to read and review as many of the nominees as possible, and since a quick Google search led me to English's short story on Wattpad, Totaled became my first post-nominee announcement read (I've already read Ann Leckie's Ancillary Sword, but I'll review that at a later date).
In recent years, I've gained a taste for a well written short story. Done right, a good story gets in fast, cuts to the meat of a problem, and gets out even faster. What a short story might lack in character development and world building, it can more than make up in poignancy, punch, and speed.
Also, it's much easier to turn off the light and go to bed after a short story than it is after a chapter in a good novel.
That's a long way of saying that I liked what I found in Totaled, and I can't wait to look up what else Kary English has written.
A bit about the story, though not so much as to spoil it: Totaled opens with the main character dead. Told from a first person perspective, English makes good use of next generation technology, looping in just enough science fiction (but emphasizing the "fiction") to give the story a "day after tomorrow" feel, but never losing touch of the human side that makes for the emotional ride in a story. Cutting edge tech may be interesting, but it might as well be a clever piece of speculation in scientific digest without addressing its human impact. Totaled makes use of some interesting ideas about technology, but leans heavily on the emotional waves the technology causes on its characters.
While I haven't yet read the other nominees in the Short Story category, I enjoyed Totaled, and I hope the best for her and her story in the Hugo voting. ...more
There's so much to like about Mitosis, and almost all of it comes down to one thing: Brandon Sanderson's nearly unparalleled ability to build and descThere's so much to like about Mitosis, and almost all of it comes down to one thing: Brandon Sanderson's nearly unparalleled ability to build and describe action.
Mitosis takes place in the period between the events of Steelheart and Firefight, but really is just a snap shot, a moment in time to give a flavor of the changes that are happening in Newcago and the villains that the Reckoners are fighting as they protect the city and keep it clear of the super powered villains that occasionally try to plant their flag.
Because I had read that the story wasn’t necessary in order to enjoy Firefight, and because I generally only buy books in paper form –I know, a bit anachronistic—I decided I wouldn’t read Mitosis before I read Firefight, if at all. I was less than twenty pages in to Firefight before I realized that even if I could get by without reading Mitosis, there were enough references to the book, and the references were sufficiently obscure, that reading it was a good idea. I put down my cash and read it on my Kindle app shortly thereafter. It didn’t take long, and I am glad I did. It’s a valuable addition to The Reckoners series.
That said, I think Sanderson would have served his series better by putting it right into Firefight, maybe as a prologue or as an opening chapter. The opening pages of Firefight seem to stutter a bit, and Mitosis provides a seamless transition between the two novels to help the story fly. ...more
Hmm...I'm starting to see a trend. Tell a story, make it look like on thing, then ZIP! Plot twist that makes you reexamine what was really going on foHmm...I'm starting to see a trend. Tell a story, make it look like on thing, then ZIP! Plot twist that makes you reexamine what was really going on for the entire story.
In the hour since I finished reading Brad Torgersen’s second collection of short stories, Racers of the Night, I’ve tried to come up with clever ways In the hour since I finished reading Brad Torgersen’s second collection of short stories, Racers of the Night, I’ve tried to come up with clever ways of saying nice things about Brad’s short fiction.
Really. I have.
He’s the cream of the crop, the crème de la crème, the ace in the hole, as fine as wine…
But clichés just don’t seem to do justice. If anything they diminish.
Because this collection is full of awesome, maybe it’s best if I just say just a few words.
With each story in Racers of the Night I found myself more impressed. Brad’s often scoffed at the highfalutin style of heavy handed academic types, and his style, artistry, and story-telling emphasizes an experience that immerses the reader in something that is entertaining, even when it has a message.
The short stories of Racers of the Night, and one novella, are each an exciting adventure, sensitive to the human condition and what the future might contain. Even when there is some social commentary— if science-fiction doesn’t contain some kind of commentary, it doesn't really seem like science-fiction—Brad’s writing is driven by entertainment value, first and foremost, which Brad does well. The worlds he writes are so fully formed, his stories so engrossing, that I do a mental double take when i catch the underlying message. To paraphrase Henry James, a writer is someone on whom nothing is lost, and to write good science-fiction is to notice everything that the future might hold. Brad's stories are clearly examinations of what happens when the future arrives. Very little seems lost on him.
But I digress. My point is: the stories are so entertaining that I had to remind myself that Brad actually was, with several stories, addressing what could be a sensitive topics.
In two, for example, Torgersen writes futuristic noir with echoes of Philip K. Dick's Do Android’s Dream of Electric Sheep, but with entirely a flavor all Torgersen's own. Both revolve around the sex trade, one addressing the damage the trade does to the woman and the other why people might choose to turn to the prostitution for a livelihood. Without glorifying or titillating, Brad raises questions about the personal cost to those who engage in the industry, selling their body to a client...all while talking about artificial intelligence, what it means to be human, and what the cost is to humanity. He does it in a world that really doesn’t feel all that distant, nor too different from our own, and yet is completely alien.
Oh, and there are flying motorcycles in that world, which is pure awesome, if you ask me. Given that the aerial bikes appear in two different stories, I’m convinced that Torgersen’s ride of choice must be two-wheeled and fast.
In addition to the tales of provocative noir, Racers of the Night includes something that would probably best be classified as space horror and which I think is something new for Torgersen. It starts out as typical for Brad space exploration and before long I found myself flipping pages, thrilled and...afraid?
It's fantastic and frightening, but mostly because of the thrill factor, not the expenditure of blood and guts. It something like a cross between Alien and Stargate with a bit of 2001: A Space Odyssey thrown in for good measure. I’d love to see it optioned by Hollywood.
Included in the collection is an unfinished novella that, again, I enjoyed, turning to the last page with some regret. In the afterword to the story, Brad admits that the space opera is unfinished and that he may return to it, and I hope he does. The story sets up plenty of ground for a whole series of books, not to mention hinting at a universe beyond the immediate conflict.
If you’re not reading Brad Torgersen yet, then stop what you’re doing, go to Amazon and buy his book today. His stories just keep getting better. If you want to know what the future of science-fiction might look like, you have to read Brad Torgersen. He's on the cutting edge.
And that's a cliché that is right on point.
Really, though: just go buy Racers of the Night and find out why for yourself,...more
Yesterday, I was disappointed with a story written early in David Farland's career. He's one of my favorite authors, and I didn't get why. It was writYesterday, I was disappointed with a story written early in David Farland's career. He's one of my favorite authors, and I didn't get why. It was written early in his career, and even by his own admission was a real downer.
Then I hit up on this story, another written early in Farland's career as a writer. Unlike what Farland would someday become known for, Charley in the Wind is not fantasy, science fiction or in any way paranormal. For that reason, I think, it surprised me, beat my expectations, and more than a little yanked at my heart strings.
I know. That's pretty sappy. But it did. Coming right after reading At the Virgin's Doorstep, it was a dramatic change.
The story is short, and Farland wastes no time with excess background and description. Here are two boys, growing up in what we would today recognize as tough circumstances, but they don't know that, and who band together to survive the kinds of things kinds face: bullies, little brothers, and abuse.
Wait, what?
Okay, I hope that no one has to experience abuse, and I would be lying if I said I ever had. However, the story resonates with adolescent boy scenes. Playing with matches. Making promises. Irritating little brothers. Sleep overs with less sleep than is probably known by parents. Exploring the outdoors. And more.
When things take a turn for the worse, though, something caught in my throat, and I felt it. No one should have to go through this to grow up. And yet, I could fully see and feel like it had really happened.
Charley in the Wind is heartbreaking, disturbing and painful, but pulling on all the right strings to build a tale that is well worth the read....more
Ugh. Just Ugh. At The Virgin's Doorstep by David Farland is just really bad. It starts out as something of a coming of age story, and then, before youUgh. Just Ugh. At The Virgin's Doorstep by David Farland is just really bad. It starts out as something of a coming of age story, and then, before you know it, you don't even want to come of age in this world. Who wants to live in a world that kills unicorns? By decapitation? Including baby unicorns?
And that's not even the worst of it. The worst is seeing the author's name on the cover, looking forward to reading it with anticipation, and then finishing the last paragraph in stunned disbelief. Was that really David Farland? What the...?!
Yeah. Something like that.
I like David Farland. A lot. I read at least one novel from his back list each year. I eagerly read his books and newsletters on writing. I make an effort to find him and say 'hi' at the cons, because he is so approachable and he's full for great writing advice (a clue: like everyone else out there, I'd love to be writing, and publishing, awesome stories, too).
But I hated this story. It was horrible. To be clearly, I'm not even a unicorn fan (I leave the love of ponies and unicorns to my daughters), but Farland's At The Virgin's Doorstep makes them a pest, slut-shames, and, well, is an all round downer. It's a pretty depressing story, once you get down to it.
To be fair, Farland has added an addendum/explanation to the short story explaining that he's not a fan of it himself and he would be worried about anyone who was. Indeed, he recognizes that there are elements of the story that are morally repugnant. I get that. But really: why even publish it? If it's so bad, why not shelve it, write it off to experience, and just leave it as part of the past?
At least one thing is clear after reading it. Farland has come a long way. This was his first attempt at a fantasy story, and he's become a solid legend in the genre since. It won't stop me from reading his other novels, and I suppose I'm even glad to have read this. After all, we all write junk at least once. ...more
Every now and then, in the midst of all the dross, you read something that moves you. Veronica Schanoes's Burning Girls is just one such story.
Set inEvery now and then, in the midst of all the dross, you read something that moves you. Veronica Schanoes's Burning Girls is just one such story.
Set in the late 19th century, Burning Girls is about Deborah, the daughter of Polish Jews in the years after Cossacks stopped burning villages but while the threat of pogroms against Jews was still very real. While her sister is raised to follow her mother as a seamstress, Deborah is trained by her grandmother to be a witch. She uses a white magic that draws on arcane and mythical Kabbalah-like Jewish writings and beliefs. As her power grows, she learns of a demon stalking their little family. Then, one day, the long feared pogroms come for them, and they set their sights on America, to start over, to escape the violence, and to escape the demon.
Part of what I enjoyed about this fantasy (a period fantasy, maybe?) was how it felt authentic, while at the same time avoiding cliches. Sure, there's a bit of handwaivium going on, but the magic is not without a cost. Based on language and the calling on power from certain angels and names of God, Deborah uses the magic to help women, and it lends a certain sense of sympathetic feminism to it.
And yet, it's Schanoes use of pathos, rather than magic, that makes the story worth the read. They struggle, grow, hurt, and are hurt. They grow together and apart, are tossed and turned in the trends and politics of the day. With each obstacle overcome, sympathy builds until a final denouement that both surprises and moves.
Burning Girls was nominated for the 2013 Nebula in the novella category, and while it didn't win, it was a worthy nominee. ...more
So, this story is something different. And, for some reason, it's a Hugo nominee, too.
Near the end of the Mae Ping River in Thailand, a town plays a So, this story is something different. And, for some reason, it's a Hugo nominee, too.
Near the end of the Mae Ping River in Thailand, a town plays a special role in an annual ritual that runs river long. Villagers will put their wishes in floating down river in paper boats and hope that they will be answered. In Doi Saket, the villagers will be led to read those wishes.
Told scattered and piece meal in the voice of an omniscient, native story teller, the disparate pieces come together to create a coherent whole. The reader can expect a twist, some loss, but also, a happy ending. The good guy is redeemed, and the bad guy gets it.
But still, something different is here, and I think it's in the voice. Thomas Olde Heuvelt has written an interesting story, and with an interesting voice, but still...it's just kind of odd. In some respect, it may be due to my expectations, and I think if I read this as a fable rather than as science fiction or fantasy, I might have enjoyed it differently. But Huevelt can't seem to make up his mind. Maybe that's okay. But it kept me from enjoying it more. ...more
There's something clever about this story. Water that falls on you from nowhere...when you are fibbing. The conceit is the narrator is an in the closeThere's something clever about this story. Water that falls on you from nowhere...when you are fibbing. The conceit is the narrator is an in the closet gay, at least to his parents, and without the ability to lie to them since the water started falling, is faced with the conflict of how he is going to keep up the facade in front of his aged parents over the Christmas holidays when any lie he tells will be given away by...water, falling out of nowhere.
Clever, right?
Right. But science fiction?
John Chu won the Hugo this year for Best Short story with The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere, and I don't quite understand why. There is almost nothing that is even related to science in it. And, lest you argue that fantasy gets consideration for the Hugo, as well (just look at The Wheel of Time series, a Hugo nominee this year), let me just say that I'm not quite sure it falls well under that category, either. Maybe surrealism or, as I saw one person call it, "magical realism." No, I'm not sure what that oxymoron means, but it sounds good, and feels about as good a label for this strange story as anything else.
So, anyway, it got the Hugo and I picked it up to read it, because that's what people who like science fiction often do: they read the stories that the Hugo.
I finished it, put down my device (it was on my Kindle app), and scratched my head. Literally. "That's all it takes to get the Hugo?"
There's no accounting for taste, I suppose, but even in a year with a lot of controversy, I don't see why this story won. It's just not very good scifi. Clever, emotional even, but send it over to one of those literary houses for consideration and leave the science fiction to something that might be remotely recognizable as belonging to the genre.
Ansible 15715 is going to be hard to review without spoilers, but it so worth the read. Okay, let's see if we can give it a go...
If you've reWowsers.
Ansible 15715 is going to be hard to review without spoilers, but it so worth the read. Okay, let's see if we can give it a go...
If you've read Orson Scott Card's Ender's Game series, Vernor Vinge's A Fire Upon the Deep, or Dan Simmons Hyperion Cantos, you've run into the concept of an ansible before. For the rest of you, an ansible is a fictional device that allows authors overcome the light speed barrier with instantaneous communication from point A to point B.
In Stant Litore's formulation, a person is merged with the power of an ansible to travel across space and, eventually, time. That journey leads to a world that is both dark and despairing, and more so because there is almost no one there to be aware of the sad imprisonment of its inhabitants, with exception of Ansible 15715.
Ansible 15715 should be classified as science fiction, but Litore reminds us why science fiction has as much in common with horror as it does with the literature of wonder. He takes in loops of darkness, creating a sense of impossible terror limited only by the bounds of human comprehension. Indeed, it is perhaps because of Lovecraftian nature of his tale that it is chilling. Compared to what we know, the horror is incomprehensible.
Ansible 15715 is the first in a series of tales, The Ansible Stories. I wanted to give it four stars, but wasn't quite satisfied enough to bump it up a notch. However, the tale was short (I read it while waiting for an appointment) and I was intrigued, so I'm game to try the sequel, Ansible 15716. ...more
Equoid by Charles Stross is a Hugo winner, in a year that's had quite a bit of controversy. Initially, I was impressed by the story, but the more I thEquoid by Charles Stross is a Hugo winner, in a year that's had quite a bit of controversy. Initially, I was impressed by the story, but the more I think about it, the less I am. Intelligent, articulate, and witty, it has undercurrents that are dark and disturbing.
It's hard not to see echoes of Larry "Lord of Hate" Correia in Charles Stross' Equoid. Sure, there are fewer guns in Equoid than, well, anything that Correia writes, but I suspect that's only because Correia knows his firearms better than Stross. Both deal with a world under assault from supernatural monsters and both are occasionally influenced by the Lovecraftian. Both fall into the category of fiction that could best be described as a cross between horror and what happens when the victims are armed to the teeth. And both have a really great voice.
End comparison. Stross's hero is a government bureaucrat who calls in the artillery , while Correia's protagonists usually ARE the artillery, and while they both have different means to accomplish the same ends, they are very different voices.
In Stross's Equoid, Bob Howard is a computer geek that works for a secret British government agency. It's his job to look into the things that go bump in the night, as well as to file the appropriate paperwork to deal with it. It's a soul crushing job--and that's just a comment on the paperwork.
This week Howard has been sent out in to the countryside to look into a rumor about unicorns, and lest you keep that fond smile on your face, be warned that unicorns in this construction are anything but rainbows and sparkles. Rather, the threat of a unicorn infestation is a Lovecraftian horror that would drown the world and end humanity.
It's just another day for Howard, though.
If you pick this up, note that it's not the first in the series, but this is one of those times when you can jump in mid-stream and never miss a beat. Equoid by Charles Stross is winner of the 2014 Hugo in the novella category, I picked it up primarily for that reason, but, due to how much I enjoyed it, I suspect that I'll go back and find others in the Laundry series, of which it is a part, as well. Stross has a style that is equal parts intelligent, relying on a reader's knowledge and reading outside the story, and humorous.
If you like British humor--heavy in sarcasm and dripping with grim humor--you might enjoy dipping into Equoid. Bonus points if you've any taste for Lovecraft. Be warned, though, that there are some disturbing aspects to the story--especially if you like unicorns....more
One of the podcasts I listen to in my spare time (or rather, while I'm mowing the lawn or doing laundry or in the car, because really: who has spare tOne of the podcasts I listen to in my spare time (or rather, while I'm mowing the lawn or doing laundry or in the car, because really: who has spare time?) is Writing Excuses, which includes Mary Robinette Kowal. She is author of the Glamourist Histories, which I hear is something like Pride and Prejudice meets Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell). I say hear, because I've never read one of them. There's really no accounting for taste, but I've just not been able to work up the interest in Regency England romance sufficient to crack Shades of Milk and Honey.
But I love the podcast, and I've always been impressed with Kowal's contributions to it. When I heard she had been nominated for the Hugo, and for science fiction to boot, I found it a good excuse to finally read something by her.
And I was impressed. The Lady Astronaut of Mars takes place on Mars in a future where an astronomical catastrophe has driven us to space before even the development of the information age. Space ships utilize punch cards for programming, and Mars has been colonized. Our protagonist is the first woman astronaut--the "Lady Astronaut of Mars" of the title--who has settled down to care for her slowly dying husband while she longs for the stars.
It's a tear-jerker of a story, light on the science and heavy on the fiction. Kowal hits all the right keys to build sympathy for characters that are real, even though they are A) astronauts and B) on Mars. If there's two things I'm not (and, chances are, neither are you), it's a Martian astronaut. But it doesn't matter, because Kowal connects us to her characters with the twin sympathies for dying and of longing for more. Instead of carrying her story with the details and excitement of space exploration, which is certainly there, she focuses on the relationship between the characters, listening to the desires and hopes in their head, and guiding their actions accordingly. It makes for a sad, but hopeful, story, and one worth the read.
Whether Kowal gets the Hugo for the story or not, I wish her the best. It's a worthy addition to the selections, and I hope she gets full consideration. ...more
The thing about I like about short stories is that you don't have to commit much to get a certain amount of satisfaction.
Any novel worth reading willThe thing about I like about short stories is that you don't have to commit much to get a certain amount of satisfaction.
Any novel worth reading will spend a certain portion of time introducing conflict, stringing together a plot, creating characters and relationships, and, if were in science fiction or fantasy, building a world. After all, in these genres, the world is as much a character as the characters all. It's what makes science fiction different from science fact.
With a short story, you've got anywhere from 3,500 words to up to maybe 30,000 to build that world, create conflict and tension, introduce empathetic characters, spin a plot, and tie it all up. Done well, it can be as satisfying as a full novel, albeit with less depth and, of course, far less commitment.
With Writers of the Future Volume 30, edited by Dave Wolverton, you can count on a full slate of fulfilling stories, each crafted with a deft touch to provide a full and satisfying meal of a story. Comparing it with even last year's crop (which I also reviewed), it's a truly excellent group of writers that the contest has discovered.
A caveat, though: don't open the collection of twenty short stories and essays with your expectations set. Book marketing departments may craft covers to help reader predictions, but nothing can prepare you for each story. And, in a sense, that's refreshing. Too many of us go to the writers and genres that we like, whether it's selections from military scifi like David Weber's Honorverse, epic fantasy like Patrick Rothfuss's or Brandon Sanderson's thousand page tomes, or the urban fantasy of Jim Butcher's Dresden Files. As readers, we tend to find what we like, devour it, and then cast about for more by the same author or in the same world or universe. Even better if it's the same characters. We get to escape a little longer with the characters we know.
Short stories, especially in a collection such as L. Ron Hubbard Presents Writers of the Future offers no such comfort or safe harbor. You will be constantly facing new situations, new worlds, new characters, and--here's the clincher--new writers.
And you should embrace them all. They're the future of science fiction and fantasy.
In "Animal" by Terry Madden, you'll find a dystopian future where humanity has pushed all wildlife into human controlled preserves underground, where a child is so valuable that a would be mother will risk everything to have one.
Megan O'Keefe's "Another Range of Mountains" and Paul Eckheart's "Shifter" both introduce systems of magic as clever as anything out of Sanderson's Cosmere, and including twists just as fulfilling and heart wrenching.
"Rainbows for Other Days" by C. Stuart Hardwick asks what it means to be human, examining how losing our natural world, and becoming transhuman, might wreck damages on our humanity that we would rather die than give up.
One author from whom I expect a lot more from, because of how well the story seemed to shadow so much more to come, is Leena Likitalo. The Finnish author's "Giants at the End of the World" allegedly has a whole novel beyond the short story, somewhere, and I would love to see it in print. If anyone from Tor, Baen, or Orbit is reading this, please pick it up.
"Long Jump" is a dark trip down the rabbit hole of virtual reality, space travel, and the end of the world, and Oleg Kazantsev absolutely nails it, giving me chills that made me want to go outside, roll on the grass, and soak up the smells of the real world.
One of my favorites was "The Shaadi Exile" for author Amanda Forrest's protagonist, Daliya, the emissary of a wife to her future husband in a universe where marriages between people light years apart are arranged decades before either spouse meets.
There are more, including a clever tale by the legendary Orson Scott Card, called "Carousel," another, "Beyond All Weapons," by L.Ron Hubbard. Each is worth the experience, a trip to another universe and a glimpse at some writers who may just be the future of science fiction and fantasy. ...more
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