REVIEW: “La Ciguapa, For the Reeds, For Herself” by J.M. Guzman

Review of J.M. Guzman, “La Ciguapa, For the Reeds, For Herself”, Apex Magazine 111 (2018): Read Online. Reviewed by Joanna Z. Weston.

Sandra’s husband hunts La Ciguapa with her dog. One rainy night, when she has grown sick of how he treats her, she has her dog lead her to the monster herself. Le Ciguapa, who prefers to be called Josefina, helps Sandra, first to dry off, and later to start a new life. But first, she shows Sandra her graveship.

The narration in this story is fascinating. The speaker is alternately talking to a brother and a sister. She tells them the same story, explains the same things, but in different ways and in radically different tones. I found that confusing at first, but once I settled into the rhythm, it brought a greater depth to an already complex story.

I feel like much of this story went over my head. It spans three generations, and while there is a common thread between them, I was not entirely sure what was happening sometimes. That is probably my own fault: according to my research, Le Ciguapa is a figure from Dominican folklore, and as such, it is distinctly possible that this story draws on cultural understandings and experiences that I do not share. But even if I didn’t fully follow the narrative, the emotional resonance came through loud and clear, and that kept me riveted to every word.

I have rarely seen a story that projects such raw anger. Not the bonfire of a momentary rage, but the banked coals that have waited for decades to rise up and consume, directed by and for a clear purpose. This is righteous rage that makes no apologies and takes no excuses.

This is a story of oppression and fear and patience. It is beautiful and powerful, and well-worth reading, as long as you are not wedded to clear, linear plots.

REVIEW: “Prism” by Stefanie Elrick

Review of Stefanie Elrick, “Prism”, Apex Magazine 111 (2018): Read Online. Reviewed by Joanna Z. Weston.

A woman sits in a room full of mirrors and seeks to understand her sister’s mysterious death, pouring over her journals and the belongings she left behind. Through meditation, she discovers what happened and resolves to do what she can to fix it.

This is a hard story to discuss without spoilers, as it is essentially a mystery. To ruin that would ruin the story, and that would be a real shame, because it has a lot of offer, and I personally enjoyed it immensely. The speculative elements take awhile to show up, but when they do – in the form of a concert cum summoning ritual gone awry – everything comes into focus. Which is not to say that the earlier parts are lesser; the story is well-paced from beginning to end, introducing plot elements with just enough explanation to keep you reading.

It took me awhile to parse the ending – which I will not spoil for you – but once I figured it out, I loved how it riffed on the mirror themes and imagery that saturated the story from the beginning. In fact, the way that mirrors weave through the narrative is downright cunning.

This is a great story for anyone who likes a good old-fashioned demon or elder god summoning, but with paired with an introspective, character driven point-of-view.

REVIEW: “You Can Stay All Day” by Mira Grant

Review of Mira Grant, “You Can Stay All Day”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 279—294. Purchase Here. Originally published in Nights of the Living Dead, edited by Jonathan Maberry and George A. Romero (St. Martin’s Griffin). Purchase Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis

I should say up front that despite being something of a horror fan, I’ve never liked zombie stories or films. Ditchwater, dull as. Having said that, this is a good story and if zombies are your thing, you’ll love it. Cassandra is a zoo worker with responsibility for the big cat enclosure. The cats know something is wrong before she does, but when she finds a dead groundskeeper shuffling around the enclosure moat she quickly twigs. After that things pretty much unfold as expected. I liked the naturalistic morality lesson at the heart of the story, about humans messing ourselves up badly but nature ultimately reverting back to the ‘wild’; eventually, things will be back to normal (even if we’re not).

REVIEW: “Shepherds’ Business” by Stephen Gallagher

Review of Stephen Gallagher, “Shepherds’ Business”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 261—277. Purchase Here. Originally published in New Fears, edited by Mark Morris (Titan Books). Purchase Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis

A lovely story set post-WW2. A locum arrives on a Scottish island to replace the dying GP and faces a few challenges from his initial cases, including a mother grieving a stillborn daughter, her desperate husband, and an old shepherd about to give up the ghost. It’s a little quaint and cosily written; reading it was like taking a warm bath, and I enjoyed it immensely. The horror element is mild but disturbing and I found myself reflecting on the story quite a bit. I wish it was a bit longer, as I would have been keen to linger with Dr Spence. I’ll have to check out Gallagher’s books.

REVIEW: “There and Back Again” by Carmen Maria Machado

Review of Carmen Maria Machado, “There and Back Again”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 257—260. Purchase Here. Originally published in Mixed Up: Cocktail Recipes (and Flash Fiction) For the Discerning Drinker (and Reader) edited by Nick Mamatas and Molly Tanzer (Skyhorse Publishing). Purchase Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis

I find it hard to get flash fiction to work for horror. This story is (I think) 1500 words, so perhaps on the long side for flash, but similar challenges exist — the need to develop the character, build the plot with limited space. This is a good story but didn’t make a lasting impression. The (vampiric? monstrous?) protagonist is fed people by her mother, who gets them paralytic with killer cocktails first. When the mother dies, the daughter is forced to fend for herself. There is much to admire here, though I was unconvinced by the ending. At heart it’s a redemption story, an illustration that we don’t have to be the monsters we are made into, but I felt there wasn’t enough space in the tale to justify the decisions made.

REVIEW: “Rethinking Risk” by Andrew D. Maynard

Review of Andrew D. Maynard, “Rethinking Risk”, in Visions, Ventures, Escape Velocities: A Collection of Space Futures, edited by Ed Finn and Joey Eschrich, (Center for Science and Imagination, Arizona State University, 2017): 193-201 — Download here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology).

In this nonfiction companion piece to “The Use of Things” (read the review) and “Death on Mars” (read the review), Maynard advocates a new approach to conceptualising risk that focuses not on behavior that can be characterised by so-called “risk-aversion” but rather on “the things that people find too important to risk losing” (p. 193). The goal is to

open up a deeper conversation around risk that explores the trade-offs that are often necessary to create the future we desire (p. 193).

I found this an interesting piece to read not only for what it has to say concerning the risks we do and must take in near-earth space travel but also how this can be applied to other facets of “the future we desire”. In the context of SFF fiction (as opposed to fact), one facet of that future that we desire is the increasing representation of marginalized voices, taking their stories seriously both in reading and responding to them, and for less marginalized voices to ensure that their characters and worlds are suitably representative (we don’t really need any more cis-het-white-male “#ownvoices” stories…) What are the risks we take in moving towards that future? And what are the things that are too important for us to risk losing?

The only way these questions can be answered is individually; the answers that I came to are not the answers anyone else will come to. As Maynard points out, “what we consider to be important…is not always obvious” (p. 196). So I recommend reading this piece not because of the answers I got out of contemplating these questions, but because of the value others can find in answering the questions themselves.

REVIEW: Sword and Sonnet, edited by Aidan Doyle, Rachael K. Jones, and E. Catherine Tobler

Review of Aidan Doyle, Rachael K. Jones, and E. Catherine Tobler, Sword and Sonnet (Ate Bit Bear, 2018) — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

It is said that the pen is mightier than the sword, but in this collection of twenty-three stories, pen and sword come together in a glorious celebration of female and non-binary battle poets. Some of the poets eulogise — or problematise — battles after they happen; others fight battles through their poetry, with the very fact that they write a weapon in a greater war. Not all of the poets are in fact writers; some only need the spoken or thought word. Some fight for revolution. Some fight for peace. Some fight for a sense of self; some, to protect others. The diversity of topics and plots is both broad and deep.

In the editor’s introduction, they note that one of the editors “once received a rejection for a story featuring a battle poet with the comment that ‘unsympathetic protagonists were a difficult sell'”. Maybe that’s true: But I couldn’t tell you because there were no unsympathetic protagonists in these stories. Even the protagonists who have, whether rightly or wrongly, ended up on the wrong side of history are still poets that one can feel something for.

Each story is accompanied with an author’s note of how the story came to be, or what the author hoped to do via the story. These little “biographies” of the story I really enjoyed, particularly how many of them went along the lines of “I intended to write an entirely different story altogether, but ended up writing this one instead.”

As is usual, we’ll review each story individually and link the posts back here as they are published:

These stories reward both reading and rereading, both to oneself and to others.

REVIEW: “Long Man” by Mike Thorn

Review of Mike Thorn, “Long Man”, Darkest Hours (Unnerving, 2017): 152-162 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology).

The only thing scarier than childhood nightmares of the Long Man is finding out you’re not the only child the Long Man visited at night. For then they’re no longer merely nightmares, but something in need of an explanation.

We’re aren’t given any explanation in this story, merely carnage. I find myself disappointed; so many stories in this anthology rely on the shock value of gore to make themselves scary that they stop being scary. I would have loved to see a twist in this one to tell us more about who the Long Man is and why he is doomed to haunting mirrors.

(Originally published in Creepy Campfire Stories (for Grownups), 2015.)

REVIEW: “Fear and Grace” by Mike Thorn

Review of Mike Thorn, “Fear and Grace”, Darkest Hours (Unnerving, 2017): 130-149 — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology).

Content note: Violence against animals, gore.

This is one of the first stories in the anthology to feature a female main character — and she’s queer to boot — and yet strangely, it is Justine’s teenage flame Herbert, not mid-thirties Justine herself, whom this story is focused upon. This is a continual theme of the anthology, where even stories that feature women do not center them, but place them in an orbit of a man, such as the “erudite, virile Herbert” who “with one expression, with the subtlest of body language…could make you forget just about anything” (p. 132).

Just about anything, but not everything:

She was willing to entertain the notion that people who did bad things were not necessarily bad people, but no matter how hard she tried, it seemed she just could not forget some bad things (p. 133).

We are treated to Justine’s memories of what she cannot forget, and it’s not pleasant. It is gore for the sake of gore, purposeless and banal. Or perhaps there is a purpose, a warning that we can take away — people don’t change.

REVIEW: “Dark Warm Heart” by Rich Larson

Review of Rich Larson, “Dark Warm Heart”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 239—255. Purchase Here. Originally published at Tor.com on April 12, 2017. Read Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis

As others frequently note, one of the joys of reading anthologies is discovering authors you haven’t come across before. Rich Larson has an incredibly impressive publications list for someone who’s been writing for less than ten years, but I haven’t (I don’t think) read anything by him before. Dark Warm Heart is a wonderful story and a great introduction. It’s a wendigo tale: Kristine’s ‘s husband Noel has returned from fieldwork in the far north of Canada having been caught in a bad snowstorm and miraculously survived. But he has little appetite and is obsessed with transcribing the interviews he’s conducted with the Inuit to learn more of their folklore. He does seem quite keen on nibbling on Kristine, though.

The story is well-written with great pacing, and the ending was pleasantly surprising. I’m not overly familiar with wendigo folklore or wendigo psychosis (though I’ve read a bit about it now) — for those with more knowledge the tale might be a bit predictable but it wasn’t for me. The most chilling part was the translation of the wendigo folk tale; only a short paragraph, a series of short statements like a song or poem, but with a real sense of menace. Very enjoyable.