Review of K. R. Segriff, “The Broken Princess,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
This story combined a fairy-tale-like voice with a fairly-mundane setting (hard to imagine Polk County, Iowa, as a magical land, whatever the narrator says!). Unfortunately, the result was, for me, too jarring to be enjoyable, and instead felt almost condescending. But maybe if you’re a horse person — or an Iowa person — this will be a story for you.
Review of Hesper Leveret, “Before the Unicorn Hunt,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Every year there is a unicorn hunt, where the prince can flaunt his skills to his courtiers. For the remainder of the year, Lariselle, its caretaker, lives with her family in the royal hunting lodge, keeping everything ready until the next year. And each year she has a special duty: To go to the hidden Boscan village and select the unicorn whose blood will go into the special cider the prince will drink, the one whom the prince will then go on to hunt and kill. It’s an awful duty, but one that Lariselle discharges, albeit unwillingly, and in the end she gets her reward.
Review of Nika Murphy, “The Tale of the Mother and the Hexed VCR,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Postnatal depression, consideration of suicide.
Two things I loved about this story:
(1) The way it shows how the ordinary, every day events of our lives are at exactly the same time the birth of myths and folk tales.
(2) The way it illustrates, clearly and without apology, the reality of postnatal depression, and how separate it is and distinct from a mother’s love.
Review of E. A. Brenner, “We’re Sorry, This Number Has Been Disconnected,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Misogyny, harassment, attempted rape.
Indira Chant does no one favors and is friends with no one and I loved her from the very first paragraph. She’ll never live up to the magical powers of her sister (Jorie, who is off on her “labyrinth year”, a great alternative to the more prosaic gap year most students get), and now she needs her sister’s help — but Jorie hasn’t answered her phone in two weeks.
So instead, Indira, who is friends with no one, has to for the first time in her life make an alliance with someone other than her sister. Ella wants to learn magic, and wants to escape having to go to prom with Chris. Indira is ready to help her with both. It’s a good, fierce story of women supporting and uplifting women.
Review of Lindsey Duncan, “Left at the Altar,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Oh, my, but I loved this absolutely delicious story. It has a classic set-up: A princess with the power of magic engaged to a foreign prince in order to end a war, her devoted bodyguard, a prince who doesn’t want to be married, a magic spell interrupted — from the start you know that princess Viatrese is going to end up with her bodyguard Berran, so it’s just a matter of figuring out how, and the unrolling of this just a pleasure to read. If you want a queer love story with a fiercely happy ending, read this!
Review of Lesley Morrison, “The Soundtrack of Your Life,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Alcoholism.
The science in this SF story is the sort of boring, everyday, run-of-the-mill science that I really enjoy reading stories about. No rockets or robots or deadly weapons, just various mods that sound exactly like things people would actually try to build in reality, such as “a mod that curated a personal musical soundtrack,” the project that Janice, the narrator, works on — basically, Spotify but more personal, and more sophisticated. It’s a great premise — I’m sure we’ve ALL crafted (or tried to craft!) the soundtrack of our own lives — and the story is just good fun to read.
Review of Zoe Marzo, “Friendshop,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Leah has recently moved to L.A. and is struggling adjust to her new life — if only she had a friend who could help ease the hard corners of not fitting in. Conveniently, this is when Leah encounters the Friendshop — open 24 hours only — just the right place for her to find her perfect, bosom friend.
Daisy comes along, everything Leah needs, and there’s a lovely uncertainty to this story, whether it’s going to be a cheerful one with a happily-every-after ending, or whether the initial set-up, that one can buy friendship, is the premise of something horrific.
Review of Merri Andrew, “Birds Are Not the Village,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Consideration of infant death.
This story plays on the adage “It takes a village to raise a child.” The narrator has a baby daughter, Thea, but instead of a village all she has to support her is a flock of birds. And, as the title says, “birds are not the village” — this is but a prelude for a harrowing story that will be deeply scary for any sleep-deprived parent.
Review of Kahlo Smith, “All Our Whiskered Idols,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Ruminations on death.
Smith’s story is an exploration of the complications and complexities of family, and death, and religion, and grief. The first part of it was almost aggressively ordinary — good and satisfyingly told, but leaving me wondering what was going to be speculative about it — which made the contrast of the second, weird and wildy speculative, part all the more sharp.
Review of Kristina Ten, “Last Letter First,” Luna Station Quarterly 54 (2023): Read online. Reviewed by Sara L. Uckelman.
Content note: Pregnancy, abortion.
What started off as a fun little story about the intimacy of acquaintance — the way in which two strangers thrown together through coincidence can suddenly become friends, only to just as suddenly separate, to go their own way and never see each other again — segued neatly into unexpected depths. In a sense, the reader and the story are themselves like Duri and Margosha, thrown together by accident, revealing something of each other, and then passing on.
SFF Reviews