REVIEW: “Harvest Song, Gathering Song” by A.C. Wise

Review of A.C. Wise, “Harvest Song, Gathering Song”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 295—313. Purchase Here. Originally published in For Mortal Things Unsung, edited by Alex Hofelich (Escape Artists, Inc.). Purchase Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis

Nice bit of cosmic horror that tied me in knots. Seven veteran (and damaged) grunts and their captain go looking for some special ‘honey’ in a cave that used to be in the desert but is now in the Arctic (bloody caves, always moving around), as the military want to get hold of it. Turns out whoever has a sip of the honey can go days without feeling pain or resting, so it’s useful stuff in a conflict-riddled world. But the captain has sampled the honey before and wants it for her own reasons….

It’s a really interesting story, involving elements of addiction, PTSD, fabulism, hallucination and the bonds forged under pressure. And how you can lose yourself, and each other. There are some great moments and I really enjoyed the beginning, though I did lose the thread a bit towards the end as the honey got thicker. I like the central idea — that a species/intelligence/civilisation could build a memory, or a map, of itself using other life forms as recording devices, sacrificing them in the process (sort of, I may have missed something), but I find confusion can detract too much from the story and the horror, which is what happens here. A stimulating read overall, and probably the closest to ‘horror sci-fi’ that I’ve come across in the volume so far.

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: “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.

REVIEW: “Alligator Point” by S.P. Miskowski

Review of S.P. Miskowski, “Alligator Point”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 231—237. Purchase Here. Originally published in Looming Low Volume 1, edited by Justin Steele and Sam Cowan (Dim Shores). Purchase Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis.

A small slice of domestic psychological horror that is one of the milder tales in the volume, especially coming as it does after Brian Hodge’s West of Matamoros, North of Hell. Helen is fleeing a domestic situation with her twin girls, who think they are going on vacation. Keeping a low profile, they stop to camp at Alligator Point, where the only others present are an elderly couple in the next tent along, but it doesn’t provide the respite she had hoped.

Based on the references to Burton and Taylor, the story seems to be set in the early 1970s. It’s a brief, simple story that doesn’t hold any shocks or surprises, but presents a thoughtful and sad tale that reminds us that all relationships are difficult (see also Burton and Taylor) and (arguably) none of us really have a happy ending coming. I was also intrigued by the possibility that Helen is an unreliable narrator, as although the reader initially interprets her condition as a victim of abuse, some of the comments made, the way the daughters act and the ultimate denouement suggest that things may – or indeed may not – be a bit more complicated than that.

REVIEW: “A Game of Goblins” by Jim C. Hines

Review of Jim C. Hines, “A Game of Goblins”, Unidentified Funny Objects 6, 2017.  pp. 8-27. Purchase here. Review by Ben Serna-Grey.

This is my first time reading one of the Unidentified Funny Objects anthologies, and in the spirit of full disclosure, I did receive a free copy courtesy of the publisher as a reviewer for SFF Reviews.

With that out of the way, I have to say I did enjoy this clever little story that pokes a lot of fun at high fantasy tropes, especially the ritualism and hierarchy of human society. There wasn’t really anything in this one that made me legitimately laugh, more the sort of humor where you snort a little and go “that’s funny.” I did however thoroughly enjoy this one, which is apparently an offshoot of Hines’s Goblin Quest series, and definitely has me interested in checking that one out more.

The story centers on the conceit of the various human clans vying for dominance, which leads to the Loncasters invading the home of Golaka, our main protagonist and the resident cook for her goblin tribe. They end up kidnapping her and promising her in marriage to the young lad who is to be the next in line for the throne.

Like a lot of stories that lampoon racial (and racist) tropes, Golaka ends up being the most clever out of all of them, and outwitting her captors, winning her freedom and the admiration of the young boy she was betrothed to. A great intro story for the anthology.

 

REVIEW: “West of Matamoros, North of Hell” by Brian Hodge

Review of Brian Hodge, “West of Matamoros, North of Hell”, The Best Horror of the Year Volume Ten, edited by Ellen Datlow (Night Shade Books, 2018): 189—230. Purchase Here. Originally published in Dark Screams Volume Seven, edited by Brian James Freeman (Cemetery Dance/Hydra). Purchase Here. Reviewed by Rob Francis.

Well, now. Where to start with this one? Brian Hodge has produced some excellent short fiction over the last few years in particular, and his contributions to The Best Horror of the Year Volume Nine (2017) were both the best two stories in the book, and the best two I’d read all year. West of Matamoros, North of Hell is of a similar quality, though it falls more on the side of terror (fascinated revulsion) than horror (thrilling dread); it is a fantastic story, though hard to read in places. Not for the faint hearted. Trigger warnings: knives, dismemberment, sledgehammers, scythes. More knives.

The story is narrated by Enrique, musician and creative lead in the Mexican band Los Hijos del Infierno. The band (Enrique, Sebastián and Sofia), accompanied by a small PR team (Olaf, Morgan and Crispin) have come to take some photos for their new album at a site of some spiritually-significant cartel atrocities; a stunt that Enrique thinks is a bad idea. Turns out he’s right! Things go awry, and we’re catapulted into cartel torture territory super quick – and Santa Muerte stands over all.

The story is an excellent blend of Mexican gangster and Mythos; yet the story is so much more than this, touching on the horror associated with tainted places, and how they can bleed through the centuries. I was relieved that the end, though gruesome, was more positive than I had feared.