All of the following appear in WILDE STORIES 2011, edited by Steve Berman from Lethe Press: (Slightly more in-depth thoughts than in the review of the book itself)
94. Love Will Tear Us Apart by Alaya Dawn Johnson A zombie-like boy, the new student in town, falls in love with a troubled jock whose father is an ex-government agent. Will love conquer all? Not one of my favorite stories in the collection, but still not a bad one. Johnson's storytelling style is fine, but something about the story just didn't totally click for me (and I wish I could put a more precise finger on why).
95. Map of Seventeen by Christopher Barzak I first read this story last year in Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling's YA fantasy anthology The Beastly Bride, and really enjoyed it. The female teen narrator is not sure what to make of her older brother's new boyfriend when they come home for a visit -- what secrets is the boyfriend keeping?
96. How To Make Friends in Seventh Grade by Nick Poniatowski The story is a coming-of-age drama set against an "alien invaders are watching us" backdrop. It works very well because of the authenticity of the narrator, who reminded me quite a bit of Kevin from The Wonder Years if he'd had a crush on Paul instead of Winnie and been unable to express it. A quietly moving story.
97. Mortis Persona by Barbara A. Barnett is also moving, a tale of love cut short by death and how both the departed and the left behind deal with it. There's a tinge of horror that is highly effective, but again it's the human emotions that make the story. I loved the conceit of the death-masks used to retain the spirits of the departed and the actors used to let those spirits speak during the funerals of family members.
98. Mysterium Tremendum by Laird Barron Possibly my favorite story in the collection. I described it in a tweet as "Lovecraft meets Danielewski." I'd like to expand on that a bit: Barron, in his own style, evokes the best of Lovecraft's stories -- the focus on human characters chancing upon physical manifestations of the great unknown -- but the tone and pace of the story put me almost immediately in mind of Mark Z. Danielewski's The House of Leaves. That novel is not perfect, but what lingers with me years after reading it is the sense of what I can only call "claustroagoraphobia." Barron's story (and Danielewski's) makes me feel tense because spaces that shouldn't be vast and endless (say, a cave hidden in a hillside) suddenly are, and spaces that should feel wide open (hiking trails in the Pacific Northwest) feel tight and threatening. For this story alone, pick up this collection.
99. Oneirica by Hal Duncan I'll admit I struggled with this. We all know I have problems with poetry, and this story absolutely is poetic not just in tone but in word choice and the way it circles around itself. There were portions of it I liked, but I think I might have missed the point in it somewhere along the line. But even this story I can't say was "bad," just that it didn't work for me as well as most of the others.
100. Lifeblood by Jeffrey A. Richter At first bluch, this story shares some commonality with Johnson's lead-off story, despite the fact that they don't share a plot or even similar characters outside of the fact that in both cases the narrator is a supernatural predator and the story is about unexpected love throwing that predator off his game. I think I liked this story a little better, but that might just be my preference for vampires over zombies giving a slight prejudice to my reading.
101. Waiting For The Phone To Ring by Richard Bowes feels like it wants to be a novel. Despite a first-person narrator with a limited focus, there's a lot going on here, with nods to the Beat Generation, 70s rock-band hedonism, random folks with the ability to see into others' souls, and a not-quite-demonic human manipulator pulling the strings in the past that lead to heartache and distant relationships in the present. I suspect I'd have enjoyed it more if it were longer. Again, good, but not quite great for me because of that feeling that too much was going on and yet too much was being left out.
102. Blazon by Peter Dube I thought I'd dislike this story because it starts with a bit of a pretentious (to me) first line: "I am a metaphor." I'm glad I kept reading, because the story moves out of that tone very quickly and becomes a series of vignettes about a young man attempting to control his passions for all the wrong reasons. Worth a read if you can get past that first paragraph.
103. All The Shadows by Joel Lane was another moving story and didn't end the way I expected it to. That's a compliment. I really thought I knew where it was going, so I was pleasantly surprised when I found I'd got it wrong. The end of the story actually made me tear up a bit. The narrator's voice, again, is authentic.
104. The Noise by Richard Larson I'm always going on about how I'm not really a zombie-story fan (my love for Mira Grant's Newsflesh books notwithstanding), so it's probably not a surprise that this is one of my least favorite stories in the collection. It's not a bad story, and there's a nice revelation at one point that pulls it neatly out of the realm of your typical zombie tale, but as much as I wanted to relate to the narrator (especially after the reveal, poor guy), I just couldn't come to like him enough to be concerned for him or his friends.
105. How To Make A Clown by Jeremy C. Shipp Shipp's work is always a bit "out there," and this story is no exception. Folks who have been with the community awhile know I liked the story -- and may remember that I even suggested that Steve Berman take a look at it for inclusion in an anthology. I'm glad he did! This story, which I originally read in the ARC of Shipp's Fungus of the Heart, makes my brain hurt, but in a good way.
106. Beach Blanket Spaceship by Sandra McDonald This story is maybe the closest to hard-sf we get in the book. I liked it because it melds a trope situation (captain of spaceship finds himself trapped in a dream-like world while his ship is in danger) and melds it with 1950s-60s teen surfer movies. I mean, what's not to love about a combination like that which also works in unrequited love and artificially intelligent computer-generated lifeforms?
107. Hothouse Flowers by Chaz Brenchley I'm a fan of pulp and Victorian sleuths, so I also really enjoyed this homage to Stoker and Doyle in style (but is also entirely Brenchley's own tale). The narrator has traveled the world and doesn't really expect to either fall in love or find the evils of the greater world present when he returns home to England. I'd enjoy further adventures of Messrs. Furnival and Alshott investigating the outre. They'd be a fine addition to the greater Wold-Newton Universe, as well.
Showing posts with label jeremy c shipp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jeremy c shipp. Show all posts
Sunday, July 31, 2011
review of Wilde Stories 2011
Book 41: Wilde Stories 2011 edited by Steve Berman, isbn 9781590213032, 289 pages, Lethe Press, $18.00
The Premise: WILDE STORIES 2011 is the fourth installment in editor and publisher Steve Berman's annual collection of the best gay speculative fiction. This time he's drawn from a variety of anthologies and magazines to compile 14 stories with strong gay characters at the center of the action. The stories skew heavily to the fantasy and horror quadrants of the speculative fiction map; possibly there were just not that as many hard-sf stories with gay characters to choose from.
My Rating: 4 stars
My Thoughts: I was already familiar with two of the entries: Christopher Barzak's "Map of Seventeen" from its appearance in THE BEASTLY BRIDE, and with Jeremy C. Shipp's "How To Make A Clown" from his FUNGUS OF THE HEART collection. I liked both stories the first time I read them, and liked them equally as well reading them again. Barzak's tale is great YA fiction with a straight female narrator talking about her older gay brother and his new boyfriend; Shipp's story is classic bizarro fiction that makes my brain hurt in a good way.
Possibly my favorite story in the collection was Laird Barron's "Mysterium Tremendum." I described it in a tweet as "Lovecraft meets Danielewski." I'd like to expand on that a bit: Barron, in his own style, evokes the best of Lovecraft's stories -- the focus on human characters chancing upon physical manifestations of the great unknown -- but the tone and pace of the story put me almost immediately in mind of Mark Z. Danielewski's THE HOUSE OF LEAVES. That novel is not perfect, but what lingers with me years after reading it is the sense of what I can only call "claustroagoraphobia." Barron's story (and Danielewski's) makes me feel tense because spaces that shouldn't be vast and endless (say, a cave hidden in a hillside) suddenly are, and spaces that should feel wide open (hiking trails in the Pacific Northwest) feel tight and threatening. For this story alone, pick up this collection.
I also really enjoyed Nick Poniatkowski's "How To Make Friends in Seventh Grade." It's not quite hard-sf, but that's okay -- a coming-of-age drama set against an "alien invaders are watching us" backdrop, it works very well because of the authenticity of the narrator. Sandra McDonald's "Beach Blanket Spaceship" is closer to hard-sf and feels reminiscent of the scenes from 2001 where Dave is alone with HAL and he knows something is not right but can't put his finger on what.
Barbara A. Barnett's "Mortis Persona" is also moving, a tale of love cut short by death and how both the departed and the left behind deal with it. There's a tinge of horror that is highly effective, but again it's the human emotions that make the story.
I'm a fan of pulp and Victorian sleuths, so I also really enjoyed Chaz Brenchley's "Hothouse Flowers, Or the Discreet Boys of Dr. Barnabas." It is an homage to Stoker and Doyle in style but is also entirely Brenchley's own. I'd enjoy further adventures of Messrs. Furnival and Alshott investigating the outre. They'd be a fine addition to the greater Wold-Newton Universe, as well.
I'll admit I struggled with Hal Duncan's "Oneirica." There were portions of it I liked, but I think I might have missed the point in it somewhere along the line. But even this story I can't say was "bad," just that it didn't work for me as well as most of the others. Likewise Alayna Dawn Johnson's "Love Will Tear Us Apart," Peter Dube's "Blazon," and Richard Larson's "The Noise." All GOOD stories, but for me not GREAT.
Joel Lane's "All The Shadows" was moving and didn't end the way I expected (that's a compliment). Jeffrey A. Ricker's "Lifeblood" shares some ground with Alayna Dawn Johnson's tale without sharing any plot points. Richard Bowes' "Waiting For the Phone To Ring" feels like it wants to be a novel but works in the shorter form.
Overall, a book well worth picking up when it hits stands in August. Of course, as with any multi-author collection, the stories I enjoyed the most may be the ones you enjoy the least -- but don't let that stop you from checking the book out and experiencing some authors you've never read before.
The Premise: WILDE STORIES 2011 is the fourth installment in editor and publisher Steve Berman's annual collection of the best gay speculative fiction. This time he's drawn from a variety of anthologies and magazines to compile 14 stories with strong gay characters at the center of the action. The stories skew heavily to the fantasy and horror quadrants of the speculative fiction map; possibly there were just not that as many hard-sf stories with gay characters to choose from.
My Rating: 4 stars
My Thoughts: I was already familiar with two of the entries: Christopher Barzak's "Map of Seventeen" from its appearance in THE BEASTLY BRIDE, and with Jeremy C. Shipp's "How To Make A Clown" from his FUNGUS OF THE HEART collection. I liked both stories the first time I read them, and liked them equally as well reading them again. Barzak's tale is great YA fiction with a straight female narrator talking about her older gay brother and his new boyfriend; Shipp's story is classic bizarro fiction that makes my brain hurt in a good way.
Possibly my favorite story in the collection was Laird Barron's "Mysterium Tremendum." I described it in a tweet as "Lovecraft meets Danielewski." I'd like to expand on that a bit: Barron, in his own style, evokes the best of Lovecraft's stories -- the focus on human characters chancing upon physical manifestations of the great unknown -- but the tone and pace of the story put me almost immediately in mind of Mark Z. Danielewski's THE HOUSE OF LEAVES. That novel is not perfect, but what lingers with me years after reading it is the sense of what I can only call "claustroagoraphobia." Barron's story (and Danielewski's) makes me feel tense because spaces that shouldn't be vast and endless (say, a cave hidden in a hillside) suddenly are, and spaces that should feel wide open (hiking trails in the Pacific Northwest) feel tight and threatening. For this story alone, pick up this collection.
I also really enjoyed Nick Poniatkowski's "How To Make Friends in Seventh Grade." It's not quite hard-sf, but that's okay -- a coming-of-age drama set against an "alien invaders are watching us" backdrop, it works very well because of the authenticity of the narrator. Sandra McDonald's "Beach Blanket Spaceship" is closer to hard-sf and feels reminiscent of the scenes from 2001 where Dave is alone with HAL and he knows something is not right but can't put his finger on what.
Barbara A. Barnett's "Mortis Persona" is also moving, a tale of love cut short by death and how both the departed and the left behind deal with it. There's a tinge of horror that is highly effective, but again it's the human emotions that make the story.
I'm a fan of pulp and Victorian sleuths, so I also really enjoyed Chaz Brenchley's "Hothouse Flowers, Or the Discreet Boys of Dr. Barnabas." It is an homage to Stoker and Doyle in style but is also entirely Brenchley's own. I'd enjoy further adventures of Messrs. Furnival and Alshott investigating the outre. They'd be a fine addition to the greater Wold-Newton Universe, as well.
I'll admit I struggled with Hal Duncan's "Oneirica." There were portions of it I liked, but I think I might have missed the point in it somewhere along the line. But even this story I can't say was "bad," just that it didn't work for me as well as most of the others. Likewise Alayna Dawn Johnson's "Love Will Tear Us Apart," Peter Dube's "Blazon," and Richard Larson's "The Noise." All GOOD stories, but for me not GREAT.
Joel Lane's "All The Shadows" was moving and didn't end the way I expected (that's a compliment). Jeffrey A. Ricker's "Lifeblood" shares some ground with Alayna Dawn Johnson's tale without sharing any plot points. Richard Bowes' "Waiting For the Phone To Ring" feels like it wants to be a novel but works in the shorter form.
Overall, a book well worth picking up when it hits stands in August. Of course, as with any multi-author collection, the stories I enjoyed the most may be the ones you enjoy the least -- but don't let that stop you from checking the book out and experiencing some authors you've never read before.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Fungus of the Heart
Book 60: Fungus of the Heart by Jeremy C. Shipp, isbn 9781935738008, 158 pages, Raw Dog Screaming Press, $24.95
I was lucky enough to get an ARC in pdf form of Jeremy C. Shipp's forthcoming (sometime in November) short story collection of dark fantasy / dark sf / dark fairy tales / horror. Shipp's work is hard to define by just one genre. Most of the collection would probably fit the "dark fantasy" description, and almost all of them have some horror component. And at least two have a very "fairy tales but not of the Disney variety" feel to them.
I posted individual story reviews here. Overall, the collection is very strong. A few stories in particular stand out: the noirish "The Sun Never Sets in the Big City," the supernatural detective with a twist story "The Haunted House," the dialogue-driven "Boy in the Cabinet," and the wistful (and anti-war) "Spider House" are perhaps my four favorites of the collection. I can see the characters from "Haunted House" and "Spider House" both inhabiting full-length novels if not outright series. Special mention to "How To Make A Clown," which I think I would nominate for![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=1)
lethepress 's WILDE STORIES anthology if I had a say. The only story in the collection that really didn't work for me at all was "Agape Walrus," but I know people for whom the very out-there nature of the story will be perfect.
You can pre-order the book directly from the publisher, Raw Dog Screaming. I think it's worth the paperback price at least -- and the collectors among you will probably want the hardcover.
I was lucky enough to get an ARC in pdf form of Jeremy C. Shipp's forthcoming (sometime in November) short story collection of dark fantasy / dark sf / dark fairy tales / horror. Shipp's work is hard to define by just one genre. Most of the collection would probably fit the "dark fantasy" description, and almost all of them have some horror component. And at least two have a very "fairy tales but not of the Disney variety" feel to them.
I posted individual story reviews here. Overall, the collection is very strong. A few stories in particular stand out: the noirish "The Sun Never Sets in the Big City," the supernatural detective with a twist story "The Haunted House," the dialogue-driven "Boy in the Cabinet," and the wistful (and anti-war) "Spider House" are perhaps my four favorites of the collection. I can see the characters from "Haunted House" and "Spider House" both inhabiting full-length novels if not outright series. Special mention to "How To Make A Clown," which I think I would nominate for
lethepress 's WILDE STORIES anthology if I had a say. The only story in the collection that really didn't work for me at all was "Agape Walrus," but I know people for whom the very out-there nature of the story will be perfect.You can pre-order the book directly from the publisher, Raw Dog Screaming. I think it's worth the paperback price at least -- and the collectors among you will probably want the hardcover.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Jeremy Shipp's Stories
A couple of months ago, author Jeremy C. Shipp sent out a call for reviewers on his Twitter. Some of those reviewers got print ARC's of Shipp's forthcoming short fiction collection FUNGUS OF THE HEART from the publisher. I was amongst those who got the ARC in .pdf form directly from the author. Here are my thoughts on the individual stories:
291. The Sun Never Rises in the Big City Shipp has a knack for combining genres, in this case mystery and horror. Most of the mystery-horror hybrids I've read have been in the Harry Dresden / urban fantasy mode. This one is decidedly not. The narrator pretends to be a noirish private dick with a sexy customer named Adeline who wants help confirming that her husband is cheating on her; the truth of the situation comes out quickly and the twists flow from there. It's still a mystery, it's just not the mystery you initially think it is. The true personality of the narrator becomes apparent as the story moves along. This one made an impression on me and made me wonder more about the world the characters live in.
292. The Haunted House Another mystery-horror hybrid, this time with a narrating character who could fall more into the Harry Dresden mold. Ash possesses her clients in order to get deep into their psyches to help solve them find solutions to the emotional trauma / problems they have. I liked how Shipp doled out the information as to what was really going on slowly, eerily. Apparitions, manifestations of the client's personality and past, come and go, but not everything Ash encounters is a figment of her client's imagination. This story has a different kind of mystery-tension than the story that precedes it, even though they can be lumped under the same "mystery-horror" label.
293. Fungus of the Heart Shipp creates interesting worlds in these short stories. In this story, the narrator is a trained Sentinel, meant to protect The Protectors, a breed of humans who are set slightly apart from the rest -- their powers give them responsibility but also cause those they protect to pull away. But Nightingale, the Sentinel, has a mission: to rescue her lover, also a Protector, from the people who have kidnapped her. Nightingale is willing to do anything it takes to rescue Cailin; the question is will she forfeit her soul to do what she thinks is right? Shipp very capably addresses the issue of when it's time to let go, within the bigger issue of finding your own personal boundaries.
294. Boy in the Cabinet A lot of Shipp's stories seem to be dialogue-driven. This is one of those: a boy who lives in a cabinet talks to a Death Cat, a Cup, a Girl, and a Man. The Boy discovers things about his life, his past, his future. The relatively small amount of actual descriptive writing in the story actually increases the feeling that we're reading a fairy-tale. The cat in particular is a great character, ranking right up there with the cat in Neil Gaiman's CORALINE in terms of almost overshadowing the human main characters.
295. Just Another Vampire Story is also not your typical vampire story. I really don't feel like I can say much about why this story worked so well for me without spoiling the way Shipp plays the story out. I think I can summarize it: a husband cheats on his wife, and vampires fit into the resolution of their marital problems. By keeping the story in Steven's POV, and showing how little he really understands Helen, Shipp keeps the narrative tension tight. Possibly my second-favorite story in the book after the opening story.
296. Ticketyboo Another story that did not go at all where I thought it would, and that's a good thing. I'm not sure I ever got a really clear sense of where / what Ticketyboo actually is (although there's a heavy implication that again, I don't want to spoil; but I think it can also be interpreted as something very different from what's implied by the end of the story), but I did get a strong sense of the bond between the young siblings the story centers on. I found the choice of the name "Massa" for the surrogate mother figure to be a little odd but that's a minor quibble.
297. The Escapist is a legend among Gnomekind, the best greatest hope for ending the war with the Goblins. But is he really what the bards sing about? The Escapist IS the main character in the story, and we see what he really thinks of himself and his abilities and his past as compared to what his fellows think. I'm not sure if Shipp intended this as almost a treatise on the Cult of Personality, but the theme certainly fits the story. What happens when the Savior/Hero we think we need not only is not what we thought but is also not what he thinks he is? The story is also an absolutely great war story -- how far will we go to win a battle? What happens when one general decides to take matters into his own hands, literally?
298. Ula Morales I'll admit I don't "get" the title, but I'm pretty sure I got the story, about a ten year old girl with antlers raised by an oak tree who will go to any lengths to protect her forest. One of the shorter, more pointed stories in the collection. On the one hand, it feels light a great character piece; on the other hand it feels like maybe it could have used a bit more development -- but then again, being in first person I'm not sure how the story could have been expanded. So it's a bit of a catch-22.
299. Spider House In contrast to the preceding story this one not only cries for more exploration, it would be very easy for the author to do more with it. If Shipp hasn't yet considered expanding this into at least a novella, he should. The main character is heavily burdened with her past involvement in a war that at first seems a bit vaguely described and later, with just a few lines, takes on a dimension that is both cliche and creative. Her supporting characters include a pumpkin-dwelling Sprite with low self-esteem and a vampire who can travel through computers and is searching for details on the person who destroyed his village and his family. And then there is the foil, General Thomas Reed, who wants to pull Shanna back into the war. It's a great cast of characters that almost demand to be developed further, which is a compliment to the story and not a criticism. I feel like I already know these characters and now want to see where events take them.
300. Monkey Boy and the Monsters Another war-based story, with a far more "anime" feel to it. That's the term that just popped into my head. I can see this story as a wildly-insane Japanese cartoon. Which is not to say the story's silliness is its only dimension. Far from it. Underneath the story of Monkey Boy, his sidekick Soapy and their battle against zombies, werewolves and dirt, we get commentary on controlling parents, censoring bodies, puberty, teen angst, and prejudice against "Georgians." Reading this only a week or so after the latest gay-bullying-related suicide here in NJ, I couldn't help but layer my own thoughts and concerns onto Shipp's words. Sometimes the right story comes along at the right time, and for me this was one of those happenstances.
301. Agape Walrus I am forced to admit that this particular story, about a rare "love walrus" named Kevin Donihe, his zombie lover, and three visitors to their remote home who are all looking for something. It was, perhaps, just a little too "out there" for me, but I'm sure the story will work very well for others. It felt like the silliness that propelled the Monkey Boy story (with the more serious undercurrent) took a wrong turn here; for me, too much of what goes on in this story felt more like it was there for shock value than for anything else.
302. Kingdom Come Another story I can't say too much about without spoiling the best part of the story. The story is about a man who takes his family on vacation in a national park in a world where people are equipped with Filters that essentially sound like high-tech "rose colored glasses." Early on, the narrator mentions his Filter editing out the utility wires and pollution so he can enjoy the view. The story of course takes a darker turn when the narrator's son disappears -- the author really excels at this "dark sf / dark fantasy / mystery" sort of mash-up. The story feels like it falters a bit in the middle and almost shows all the cards too soon, but it redeems itself in the final act and delivers a neat ending and (as with several other stories in the collection) a decided anti-war message.
303. How to Make a Clown is another of Shipp's dialogue-driven stories. It takes a more careful reading to really parse apart what's going on, but it is worth the effort. The opening is a bit rocky (what is up with that Clown, anyway), but the rest of the story has a romantic side in among the weirdness that I really liked. If I had a say, I'd recommend this story for Lethe Press' next Wilde Stories anthology.
Full book review will be posted over on my LJ and various other online places a little later tonight.
291. The Sun Never Rises in the Big City Shipp has a knack for combining genres, in this case mystery and horror. Most of the mystery-horror hybrids I've read have been in the Harry Dresden / urban fantasy mode. This one is decidedly not. The narrator pretends to be a noirish private dick with a sexy customer named Adeline who wants help confirming that her husband is cheating on her; the truth of the situation comes out quickly and the twists flow from there. It's still a mystery, it's just not the mystery you initially think it is. The true personality of the narrator becomes apparent as the story moves along. This one made an impression on me and made me wonder more about the world the characters live in.
292. The Haunted House Another mystery-horror hybrid, this time with a narrating character who could fall more into the Harry Dresden mold. Ash possesses her clients in order to get deep into their psyches to help solve them find solutions to the emotional trauma / problems they have. I liked how Shipp doled out the information as to what was really going on slowly, eerily. Apparitions, manifestations of the client's personality and past, come and go, but not everything Ash encounters is a figment of her client's imagination. This story has a different kind of mystery-tension than the story that precedes it, even though they can be lumped under the same "mystery-horror" label.
293. Fungus of the Heart Shipp creates interesting worlds in these short stories. In this story, the narrator is a trained Sentinel, meant to protect The Protectors, a breed of humans who are set slightly apart from the rest -- their powers give them responsibility but also cause those they protect to pull away. But Nightingale, the Sentinel, has a mission: to rescue her lover, also a Protector, from the people who have kidnapped her. Nightingale is willing to do anything it takes to rescue Cailin; the question is will she forfeit her soul to do what she thinks is right? Shipp very capably addresses the issue of when it's time to let go, within the bigger issue of finding your own personal boundaries.
294. Boy in the Cabinet A lot of Shipp's stories seem to be dialogue-driven. This is one of those: a boy who lives in a cabinet talks to a Death Cat, a Cup, a Girl, and a Man. The Boy discovers things about his life, his past, his future. The relatively small amount of actual descriptive writing in the story actually increases the feeling that we're reading a fairy-tale. The cat in particular is a great character, ranking right up there with the cat in Neil Gaiman's CORALINE in terms of almost overshadowing the human main characters.
295. Just Another Vampire Story is also not your typical vampire story. I really don't feel like I can say much about why this story worked so well for me without spoiling the way Shipp plays the story out. I think I can summarize it: a husband cheats on his wife, and vampires fit into the resolution of their marital problems. By keeping the story in Steven's POV, and showing how little he really understands Helen, Shipp keeps the narrative tension tight. Possibly my second-favorite story in the book after the opening story.
296. Ticketyboo Another story that did not go at all where I thought it would, and that's a good thing. I'm not sure I ever got a really clear sense of where / what Ticketyboo actually is (although there's a heavy implication that again, I don't want to spoil; but I think it can also be interpreted as something very different from what's implied by the end of the story), but I did get a strong sense of the bond between the young siblings the story centers on. I found the choice of the name "Massa" for the surrogate mother figure to be a little odd but that's a minor quibble.
297. The Escapist is a legend among Gnomekind, the best greatest hope for ending the war with the Goblins. But is he really what the bards sing about? The Escapist IS the main character in the story, and we see what he really thinks of himself and his abilities and his past as compared to what his fellows think. I'm not sure if Shipp intended this as almost a treatise on the Cult of Personality, but the theme certainly fits the story. What happens when the Savior/Hero we think we need not only is not what we thought but is also not what he thinks he is? The story is also an absolutely great war story -- how far will we go to win a battle? What happens when one general decides to take matters into his own hands, literally?
298. Ula Morales I'll admit I don't "get" the title, but I'm pretty sure I got the story, about a ten year old girl with antlers raised by an oak tree who will go to any lengths to protect her forest. One of the shorter, more pointed stories in the collection. On the one hand, it feels light a great character piece; on the other hand it feels like maybe it could have used a bit more development -- but then again, being in first person I'm not sure how the story could have been expanded. So it's a bit of a catch-22.
299. Spider House In contrast to the preceding story this one not only cries for more exploration, it would be very easy for the author to do more with it. If Shipp hasn't yet considered expanding this into at least a novella, he should. The main character is heavily burdened with her past involvement in a war that at first seems a bit vaguely described and later, with just a few lines, takes on a dimension that is both cliche and creative. Her supporting characters include a pumpkin-dwelling Sprite with low self-esteem and a vampire who can travel through computers and is searching for details on the person who destroyed his village and his family. And then there is the foil, General Thomas Reed, who wants to pull Shanna back into the war. It's a great cast of characters that almost demand to be developed further, which is a compliment to the story and not a criticism. I feel like I already know these characters and now want to see where events take them.
300. Monkey Boy and the Monsters Another war-based story, with a far more "anime" feel to it. That's the term that just popped into my head. I can see this story as a wildly-insane Japanese cartoon. Which is not to say the story's silliness is its only dimension. Far from it. Underneath the story of Monkey Boy, his sidekick Soapy and their battle against zombies, werewolves and dirt, we get commentary on controlling parents, censoring bodies, puberty, teen angst, and prejudice against "Georgians." Reading this only a week or so after the latest gay-bullying-related suicide here in NJ, I couldn't help but layer my own thoughts and concerns onto Shipp's words. Sometimes the right story comes along at the right time, and for me this was one of those happenstances.
301. Agape Walrus I am forced to admit that this particular story, about a rare "love walrus" named Kevin Donihe, his zombie lover, and three visitors to their remote home who are all looking for something. It was, perhaps, just a little too "out there" for me, but I'm sure the story will work very well for others. It felt like the silliness that propelled the Monkey Boy story (with the more serious undercurrent) took a wrong turn here; for me, too much of what goes on in this story felt more like it was there for shock value than for anything else.
302. Kingdom Come Another story I can't say too much about without spoiling the best part of the story. The story is about a man who takes his family on vacation in a national park in a world where people are equipped with Filters that essentially sound like high-tech "rose colored glasses." Early on, the narrator mentions his Filter editing out the utility wires and pollution so he can enjoy the view. The story of course takes a darker turn when the narrator's son disappears -- the author really excels at this "dark sf / dark fantasy / mystery" sort of mash-up. The story feels like it falters a bit in the middle and almost shows all the cards too soon, but it redeems itself in the final act and delivers a neat ending and (as with several other stories in the collection) a decided anti-war message.
303. How to Make a Clown is another of Shipp's dialogue-driven stories. It takes a more careful reading to really parse apart what's going on, but it is worth the effort. The opening is a bit rocky (what is up with that Clown, anyway), but the rest of the story has a romantic side in among the weirdness that I really liked. If I had a say, I'd recommend this story for Lethe Press' next Wilde Stories anthology.
Full book review will be posted over on my LJ and various other online places a little later tonight.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Teaser Tuesday for August 24th
Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
* Grab your current read.
* Open to a random page.
* Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page.
* BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
* Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
Here's my teaser from "The Sun Never Rises in the Big City," the lead-off story in Jeremy C. Shipp's soon to be released new short fiction collection FUNGUS OF THE HEART:
I could hire a private investigator, but I’m sure he’d wonder why I’d spend so much money investigating the death of a rag. He’d look down on me, so that’s out of the question.
I can’t call the police either, because they’d just laugh at me. Legally, killing a rag isn’t murder. And according to the handbook, in the case of a rag’s death, we’re supposed to call up the Agency and ask for a replacement.
Because people are cheap. Investigations aren’t.
* Grab your current read.
* Open to a random page.
* Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page.
* BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
* Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
Here's my teaser from "The Sun Never Rises in the Big City," the lead-off story in Jeremy C. Shipp's soon to be released new short fiction collection FUNGUS OF THE HEART:
I could hire a private investigator, but I’m sure he’d wonder why I’d spend so much money investigating the death of a rag. He’d look down on me, so that’s out of the question.
I can’t call the police either, because they’d just laugh at me. Legally, killing a rag isn’t murder. And according to the handbook, in the case of a rag’s death, we’re supposed to call up the Agency and ask for a replacement.
Because people are cheap. Investigations aren’t.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)