REVIEW: “Adapt and Overcome” by Stephen R. Smith

Review of Stephen R. Smith, “Adapt and Overcome”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 13-14. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

The length of this story makes it more a vignette than a proper story, and it rather shows up the perils of the very short short story/flash genre. Some of the problems are compounded by the fact that things get going very slowly, so that by the time action happens, more than half the story is over. The story also clearly shows some of the other difficulties that accompany such a short length: There is little space for world-building — what we have is a rather generic SF setting with terraforming — and also very little space for resolution. We find out what Abhrams wants to do, but with no ship and no other people around, how on earth is Abhrams going to make good his desire to adapt and overcome?

REVIEW: “Too Generous” by N. R. M. Roshak

Review of N. R. M. Roshak, “Too Generous”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 16-20. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Note to anyone who wants to avoid such matters: This story deals with stillbirth.

The story starts off with an “I” narrator having a conversation with an unnamed, mute “you”. The reader? Someone else? If it is a reader, then right away the reader is being told how to feel: “You’re upset.” But maybe I wasn’t upset until you told me I was, dictating how I am supposed to feel and react. The frustrating thing is that this opening, this interaction with the reader, wasn’t at all necessary. The story could’ve started “I was a cleaner at St Joseph’s Hospital then” and the entire narrative structure would’ve been less antagonistic.

Otherwise, this is a classic horror story complete with very creepy monsters, all the more creepy for not being clearly specified. Are they vampires? Zombies? Something other unnamed horror? I’m not a big fan of the horror genre myself, but this story definitely creeped me out so I can conclude that it works.

REVIEW: “Heirlooms” by Rosalind Alenko

Review of Rosalind Alenko, “Heirlooms”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 324-332. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Alenko devotes nearly two pages simply to setting the scene, with such attention to detail that when there is a mismatch between expectations and the story, it comes a bit jarring. (Tegan is much more commonly a female name than a male name; given the surfeit of Welsh names, I expected the story to be set in Wales…until a raccoon showed up.) There is a level of detachment that comes with this level of description, which Alenko uses to balance the strong emotional thread that runs through the story. Enid herself is a strange narrator; it is not clear how far we can trust her. She complains about the lack of road to the cemetery that “it’s not the dark ages!” but later seems to accept unquestioningly the existence of ghosts, witches, and faeries. Later, when Enid returns to her grandma, one wonders what story it is she will tell her.

This is the first story where I’ve found any editorial issues, a minor lapse resulting in “it’s” where there should be “its”.

REVIEW: “Red Queen’s Lullaby” by Ariel Ptak

Review of Ariel Ptak, “Red Queen’s Lullaby”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 321-322. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

Ptak’s story includes an impressive amount of scene-setting for being as short as it is, painting a clear and vivid picture of place and history. There is not much to the story itself, but there is a clear resolution at the end. I do wonder, though, if the final three paragraphs are necessary or if, perhaps paradoxically, the story would’ve been stronger with a more ambiguous ending.

REVIEW: “The Smile” by Irene Grazzini

Review of Irene Grazzini, Joyce Myerson (trans.), “The Smile”, Luna Station Quarterly 32 (2017): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

What I often find frustrating about short stories is that they are just so…well, short. It’s hard to do a lot in not many words. So when I get a story like this, where all it takes is the title, a name, and a few words from the first paragraph to make me go “I know what this is going to be about!”, it makes me very happy.

The story did not live up to this initial rush of happiness as much as I wished it would, though. It takes quite a long time to get started, with the narrator spending a lot of precious words on description. Now, this complaint is squarely situated in my mouth as someone who tends to skip over a lot of purely descriptive scenes. In novels, I don’t mind them as much as they’re easy to skip, but in a short story, it sort of feels like a waste. I want the action, not the descriptions!

This story is translated — I assume from Italian but do not know for certain. If there is one thing harder than writing speculative fiction, I’ve always thought it must be translating it, because you have to be true to the original story and the original voice, and neither of these is a trivial matter. There is an added layer of difficulty when rendering a story in another language that arises from distinguishing what must be translated from what must be not. Names, in particular, must be handled with care. Given that I knew from the start of the second paragraph who the narrator was, the naming of her child as “Andrew” jarred me. Knowing what I know about the narrator, and especially given that her husband is named as “Francesco” a few sentences later on, this makes me wonder if “Andrew” in the original was “Andrea”; a later pair of names had me wondering the same thing, where it felt like one had been translated but not the other. Were I standing in Myerson’s shoes, I would probably have translated either all of the names (Andrew, Catherine, Francis etc.) or none (Andrea, Caterina, Francesco, etc.).

REVIEW: “Wasteland” Stephen R. Smith

Review of Stephen R. Smith, “Wasteland”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 267-268. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

The guiding question throughout this story is “Who is Eliot?” Despite being introduced to us in the very first sentence — and indeed being the only character that we meet — this question is not clearly answered until the very end of the story, at which point one lingering question remains — why is he named ‘Eliot’? But that question is never answered because this story is quite short, almost more a vignette than a story, and resolution does not need to be the order of the day here.

REVIEW: “In This Life and the Next” by Katherine Inskip

Review of Katherine Inskip, “In This Life and the Next”, Luna Station Quarterly 32 (2017): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

I struggle with second-person POV so much. I can totally understand why an author would choose it — I’ve had my own fair share of writing something that simply need to be written in that voice — but as a reader I find it so often off-putting, because if the “you” is “me”, then the narrator has gotten something totally wrong, this isn’t me, this isn’t my story.

So I always start a second-person POV story with a healthy dose of trepidation. Maybe this one will be the one where the “you” is in fact me.

It wasn’t, oh, it wasn’t. But when I realize who the narrator is, and who she is talking to…I’ll forgive the author pretty much anything, because there is no way this story could’ve been written in anything but second-person POV, and it’s brilliant.

REVIEW: “Cinderevolution” by Shondra Snodderly

Review of Shondra Snodderly, “Cinderevolution”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 307. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

How many sentences does it take to tell a story? In the case of Snodderly’s “Cinderevolution”, if I write one more sentence after this one, my review will be as long as the story itself (which seems a bit backwards), so I’d better stop here.

REVIEW: “Trich” by Jay Knioum

Review of Jay Knioum, “Trich”, in Myths, Monsters, and Mutations, edited by Jessica Augustsson (JayHenge Publications, 2017): 99-100. — Purchase here. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman. (Read the review of the anthology.)

There are two ways to introduce a 3rd person POV short story — name the character in the first paragraph, and then switch to the relevant pronoun, or refer to the character by pronoun in the first paragraph, and name the character in the second paragraph. Knioum’s story opts for the latter option, which I always find a little bit strange. The use of the pronoun rather than the name distances the reader at the very point when we need to be drawn in. If we’re going to be told the character’s name, why not in the opening paragraph?

When a story is as short as this one, there isn’t much time to get the reader invested. At two pages, I found that things were only just getting going when suddenly they ended, leaving me a bit perplexed. I’ll say this, though — the capping illustration was well-paired with the story, and when I saw it, a lightbulb dawned. “Oh….it’s that story!”

REVIEW: “Goners” by Hannah Sternberg

Review of Hannah Sternberg, “Goners”, Luna Station Quarterly 32 (2017): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.

One thing that ties a lot of SFF/Spec Fic together is a distinct lack of place. The anonymity of the setting allows the readers to fill in the gaps however they need to to make the story their own. Sternberg’s “Goners” introduces its setting from the very start — and though it’s been nearly 13 years since I left Wisconsin, I always have a little nostalgic soft spot for that state. (I do wonder a bit at why the narrator went from Wisconsin to North Carolina via the Great Plains — or how he knew to put vinegar on a jellyfish sting). But it is precisely the specificity and the namedness of the geography that Sternberg hangs her speculative twist on. That twist, making up the middle third of the story, was where I thought the story shone the most; the beginning was a bit ordinary, and the ending was a bit explanatory, but during the middle I was wholly uncertain as to how things would go, which I love in a story.