SFF, Short stories

The Best of Luna Station Quarterly…

Last year, my short story “The Absence of Feathers” was published in Issue 17 of Luna Station Quarterly. And that was cool! But now, LSQ has put out an anthology: The Best of Luna Station Quarterly: The First Five Years. And happily, “The Absence of Feathers” is included, available for the first time in print.

Of course, it’s not just me. Fellow Kiwi authors A.J. Fitzwater (“The Woman With Flowers in Her Hair”) and A.C. Buchanan (“Built in a Day”) are also included. As are two of my favourite short story authors, Chikodili Emelumadu (“Tunbi”) and Penny Stirling (“Tanith’s Sky”). Stirling, by the way, is the author of one of the finest short stories I’ve ever read (“Love Over Glass, Skin Under Glass”, published in Aurealis if you’re interested, and you should be. You really should be.).

So if you’re interested in a whole lot of fantastic short speculative fiction by women, this might be the anthology for you! You can check it out here.

SFF, Short stories

Crow

ApexMag04Easter weekend is over and I didn’t win the Vogel or the BSFA, alas! But they both went to worthy winners so can’t complain. Really, the pleasure lay in being nominated at all.

But it’s a new week now, with a new story! “Crow” has just been published in the latest issue of Apex Magazine. It’s online and free to read, so have at it. It’s my first story in Apex, and I was very pleased to place it there.

“Crow” is the third of my future-fishing-in-New-Zealand stories to be published. It only barely references the first (“The Mistress of Fishes”) in its nod to Carnival time, and it doesn’t mention the second (“The Mussel Eater”) at all, though there is some similarity. The robots of “Crow” are ecological guardians of fish stocks, and they’re in that position because they can’t be bribed or threatened or convinced to allow over-fishing. In that sense they’re similar to the Pania of TME, whose remit is to look after marine mammals. (I’m slowly populating New Zealand waters with predators… it’s fun!).

But if the Crows can’t be convinced, they can be sabotaged. It’s also widely known they can be sabotaged… but it never goes undetected, and the consequences are terrible.

NZ actually has a quota system governing its fisheries industry now. It’s pretty good, and the aim is of course to protect fishing stocks for future generations. But it’s not perfect… not yet, anyway. It lacks creepy iron conservators, for one thing.

Reviews, Science, SFF, Short stories

Review: “The Voice of the Dolphins” by Leo Szilard

szilardThe Voice of the Dolphins and Other Stories (Expanded Edition)

By Leo Szilard

Published by Stanford University Press, 1992

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I admit, I’ve always had an interest in the Manhattan Project. It’s a fascinating period of history – as part of my PhD research, I went on a trip to Los Alamos to write a collection of poetry based around the Project’s wartime work. Thus, I’m already familiar with Szilard – arguably the man who more than anyone else saw the potential of (and the potential horror of) atomic war, and realised the need for Allied research. It was Szilard who went to Einstein, who wrote with him the letter to Roosevelt that kickstarted the Manhattan Project. He also drafted the petition that argued for a bloodless demonstration of the atomic bomb as a means of ending the war, rather than its ultimate use on the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Knowing this, I wonder if I would have recognised the author of this collection, had I found it with the author’s name whited out. I can’t honestly say that I would – but I would have been close, I think. The Voice of the Dolphins is not a work written by what I would call a “natural writer” – someone whose prime concern is the linking together of word and image, someone concerned with the aesthetics of a sentence. For someone who is so associated with the written word – with letters and petitions – Szilard doesn’t have a great deal of fluidity in his language. Of course, he was multilingual where I am not so that is perhaps an ungenerous assessment.

That being said: if this book had come to me, apparently authorless, it wouldn’t be hard to perceive the kind of man who wrote it. The concern with failure is so profound, the nuclear issue so pronounced, that it’s easy to see in its pages the stamp of someone who could have been involved in the Manhattan Project. Add to that the historical context of the stories – so concerned with the Cold War, with the relationship between Russia and the USA – that the provenance is almost certain.

Szilard tried to publish some of the stories in this collection in fictional and non-fictional fora. Once one reads “The Voice of the Dolphins” it’s clear why. Having failed to prevent war-time use of the atomic bomb, Szilard is trying to develop a blueprint of a global community where nuclear weapons can be limited in their use, where the international debate over their use becomes a catalyst for peace. Some of it, looking back, seems almost pitifully naive: the insistence that a nuclear power give two weeks’ notice of intent to the city that they plan to bomb, so that the inhabitants of that may safely evacuate. Reading that now seems almost laughable… but then I thought of Szilard, writing desperately away until his hand cramped, trying to find a way out of the maze that he himself conceived and helped to build. I thought of how (as described in Bernstein’s comprehensive introduction) he sent copies of that story to a number of American officials and politicians, how he had the story translated into Russian so that he could get it to Khruschev… the poor man. You could weep for him, you really could.

It’s not a large collection, only six stories. A couple of them are more typically science fiction, regarding alien perceptions of Earth under/after a global nuclear war that at least in “Report on Grand Central Terminal” has left the planet bereft of human life. “Xram thinks that there had been a war fought between inhabitants of the two continents, in which both sides were victorious” (145).

Once can infer that this is Szilard’s nightmare, the end-point of his work, wrought all too well – and all too necessarily, to make the fear of it just that much more bitter. No matter how Szilard must have dreaded the possible nuclear future he helped to build, he also knew that such a future was coming, and better it not come at the hands of the Nazis. Such are our choices made: easy choices, and easy to be right in. (To be wrong in.)

The bulk of the remaining stories – including “The Voice of the Dolphins”, the largest and most significant of all the pieces – outline ways to avoid this future, the lack of it, the alien curiosity. They are, essentially, alternate histories. In “Dolphins”, there is a scientific breakthrough: communication between humans and dolphins is ostensibly established, and the latter are found to be clearly and deeply intelligent. The dolphins then guide humanity through political and scientific changes that ameliorate the risk of nuclear way and eventually lead to global peace and prosperity. The interest here is in Szilard’s hypothetical sequence of events – and it very nearly is a simple sequence. As I commented above, one should not look for a particularly literary value here. The value lies in the historical context, in the thought experiment of a great thinker, set in the environment caused by his life’s work.

SFF, Short stories

BSFA nomination for The Mussel Eater!

The Mussel EaterThe shortlists for BSFA’s annual awards are up, and I’m happy to say that my short story, The Mussel Eater, has been nominated for best short fiction! Oranges and sauvignon blanc for all!

I’ve never been nominated for anything before, so you can imagine how excited I am. Fellow nominees in the short section are Ruth E.J. Booth for “The Honey Trap” and Benjanun Sriduangkaew for Scale Bright. Congrats to you both!

Can’t help but think I might be able to swing an agent now. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?

SFF, Short stories

Palimpsest

bsqI’ve got a new short story out! The first of the year, it’s published in Bards and Sages Quarterly. “Palimpsest” is a story about the mythological gorgon Medusa.

I’ve always thought she got a bit of a rough go, myself. The myth has her as a perfectly normal girl at first, until the god of the sea, Poseidon, rapes her as she’s worshipping in Athena’s temple. Of course the gods all band together and she’s the one that’s punished for it. Presumably because Medusa has the bad taste to be a victim within her temple walls, Athena turns her into a snaky-haired monster.

I don’t know which deity disgusts me more.

Anyway, Palimpsest is something of a modern retelling, where Medusa gives the snakes to herself as a means of coming to terms with what happens to her – as a mark of survival, really.

Medusa’s own snakes slid over her flesh, flickered their tongues at her temples, at the corner of her eyes. Soothing, solicitous, and on their breath was the faint scent of venom–a dry, burning scent like warm embers, and just dangerous enough to rouse.