The Wet & Irritated Kittens Slate, Part II - Short Works

A few weeks ago, I shared my personal nominations in the Novel category for the upcoming Hugo Awards. As the deadline looms, 'tis now time for me to share my picks for the short fiction categories.

You may notice as we proceed that I haven't filled the entire slate. The explanation for this is actually quite simple: It's difficult to impress me in fewer words. As I was paging through my old zines trying to decide what to add to my list, I didn't find much that I thought was truly striking. What this says about the state of the short fiction market is, to say the least, concerning.

But, without further ado, here are my picks:

Novellas:

• “Flow," Arlan Andrews Sr., Analog, November 2014 - This fantasy adventure expertly captures man's desire to explore and learn more.
• Big Boys Don’t Cry, Tom Kratman, Castalia House - I knew I was going to nominate this one as soon as I'd read it, as its subversion of a popular military science fiction trope is both troubling and necessary. See my review here.

Novelettes:

• "Life Flight," Brad Torgersen, Analog, March 2014 - From my original review: "...the main character's emotional arc is profoundly interesting -- and, thankfully, morally grounded. When his childhood dreams are tragically ripped away, he initially loses himself in suicidal ideation and a selfish sense of entitlement. But as he grows older and wiser, he realizes he can still find meaning in his life by focusing his attentions on the other people on board -- and ultimately, while he is robbed of the chance to set foot in the promised land, he's strangely okay with that result because he knows being the guardian and shepherd of the mission still mattered."
• “Championship B’tok," Edward M. Lerner, Analog, September 2014 - I'm a little confused on this one. The Puppies have it listed under Novelette, but my digital copy of Analog puts this in the Novella category. At any rate, this is a tantalizing introduction to a space opera universe whose mysteries definitely hit several of my squee buttons.

Short Stories:

• "The Golden Knight," K.D. Julicher, Baen Website - From my original review: "I love, love, love platonic elder-younger pairings in which the younger's boundless loyalty and innocence in some way redeem the elder. Such stories, I feel, speak to the more profound spiritual reason why most of us become parents (and why I, in the absence of a spouse, have elected to work as a teacher). Biological imperatives to reproduce aside, there is also an instinctual recognition that caring for our children is a salvific enterprise -- and the fact that many succumb to the pop culture's distorted and idolatrous visions of parenting does not in any way negate the nobility of the animating impulse."
• “Totaled," Kary English, Galaxy’s Edge, July 2014 - An excellent sci-fi concept conveyed with genuine human emotion. I hope to see more from this author.
• "Abandoned River, Dry Water," Jane Lebak, Sci Phi Journal #1 - From an earlier review: "The tale it implies - of a misplaced Catholic missionary attempting to minister to an alien race he was not prepared to encounter - is both haunting and poignant -- reason enough to look for some of Jane Lebak's other work."

Now I must hurry and log these choices with WorldCon! After all, the kittens are waiting.

Get on with it already!

The Wednesday Short: Sci Phi Journal, Issue #1 (Part I - The Short Fiction Section)

I don't really listen to podcasts. I have been in a few because panels tend to be recorded for that purpose at Dragon Con, but sadly, I've never had the time to make any of these shows a regular habit. Consequently, until a few weeks ago, I never knew a podcast like Jason Rennie's existed. And it's a damn shame, really. Mr. Rennie, you see, is as interested in philosophy as he is in science fiction, and so he evidently thought: Why not meld the two? Well, why not indeed! Scrolling through the titles of recent broadcasts, I can see quite a few topics that may interest the rabble here. I for one plan on listening to the shows that bring St. Thomas Aquinas to a discussion of philosophical concepts on Babylon 5.

Meanwhile, via John C. Wright's inimitable blog, I've also learned that Rennie has started publishing a zine that covers the same ground as the Sci Phi Show. The first issue of said zine - entitled the Sci Phi Journal - has already been released, and while I was cycling in the gym yesterday, I got a chance to read the entire "short fiction" section. My thoughts? The stories were pretty uneven; a few worked as science fiction literature and a few did not.

To be sure, all four selections achieved one of the cardinal goals of our genre: They played with ideas that were genuinely interesting and even awe inspiring. When Eric S. Raymond wrote a while back that science fiction must bring the reader to a moment of "conceptual breakthrough," he was largely right. If the "Wow!" factor is not present, then what you have is -- the kind of crap that is peddled as "award-winning sci-fi" today, which somehow manages to be pseudo-literary and pseudo-speculative simultaneously.

In my view, however, stories usually cannot thrive on the high concept alone; most of the time, you need, at the very least, recognizably human (or human-like) characters to respond in sympathetic ways to your fantastic premise. This is where the stories "Cosmic Foam" and "Falling to Eternity" fail. In "Falling to Eternity" in particular, the protagonist is basically a non-entity -- and the antagonist is so cartoonish that I half expected him to start cackling madly and twirling his mustache.

"Domo" and "Abandoned River, Dry Water," on the other hand, were much more effective. The latter, actually, was one of the best short stories I've read all year. The tale it implies - of a misplaced Catholic missionary attempting to minister to an alien race he was not prepared to encounter - is both haunting and poignant -- reason enough to look for some of Jane Lebak's other work.

So -- despite the flaws of the fiction Rennie has included, have I gotten enough out of this zine so far to push forward? Yes! I'm especially excited to read the article on the Prime Directive. After all, Matt and I have our own thoughts about that -- many, many thoughts! And next week, I intend to review John C. Wright's novelette "The Ideal Machine" for the Wednesday Short. The upshot? There is still much to discuss -- so go ahead and pick up a copy so you can jump in!

Final Verdict: Recommended... though there are a few bugs here and there.

The (Late) Wednesday Short: K.D. Julicher's The Golden Knight

"What we want to see: Adventure fantasy with heroes you want to root for. Warriors either modern or medieval, who solve problems with their wits or with their sword--and we have nothing against dragons, elves, dwarves, castles under siege, urban fantasy, damsels in distress, or damsels who can’t be bothered to be distressed. What we don't want to see: Political drama with no action, angst-ridden teens pining over vampire lovers, religious allegory, novel segments, your gaming adventure transcript, anything set in any universe not your own, “it was all a dream” endings, or screenplays."

When these content guidelines for Baen's first Fantasy Adventure Award were announced, the usual suspects sneered. After all, Larry Correia was named as a judge, and as the International Lord of Hate, Larry is just as evil as they come. How could anything of "quality" seize the prize?

Well. Far be it for me to contradict my social betters in the SFF universe, but the recently-announced grand prize winner - "The Golden Knight" - is actually pretty damned great. Indeed, I hope this will not be last we see from "K.D. Julicher," which, I understand, is a pen name for a husband-and-wife writing team. If this, their first professional publication, spurs them to continue churning out stories in the fantasy genre, I predict we'll see great things from them.

The protagonist of "The Golden Knight" is a man in hiding. The only survivor of a disastrous shipwreck, he has allowed his guilt over the loss of his men to overwhelm his identity as a warrior and a king. But then a kid - a self-declared "squire" who hasn't even outgrown his peach fuzz - arrives, declaring that he's looking for his master, and what ensues is the story of a mentor-pupil relationship that ultimately brings a lost soul back from the brink.

As anyone familiar with my past fannish history probably knows, I love, love, love platonic elder-younger pairings in which the younger's boundless loyalty and innocence in some way redeem the elder. Such stories, I feel, speak to the more profound spiritual reason why most of us become parents (and why I, in the absence of a spouse, have elected to work as a teacher). Biological imperatives to reproduce aside, there is also an instinctual recognition that caring for our children is a salvific enterprise -- and the fact that many succumb to the pop culture's distorted and idolatrous visions of parenting does not in any way negate the nobility of the animating impulse.

To put it another way: Unlike many of the short stories that have recently attracted the plaudits of the fandom's clerisy, "The Golden Knight" actually achieves one of literature's primary functions: It taps into our authentic humanity. For that reason alone, it is well worth a read.

Final Verdict: Highly Recommended.

The Wednesday Short: Brad Torgersen's Picket Ship

I don't necessarily have a problem with dark and/or dystopic stories. At their best, said stories do communicate ideas that are both important and beautiful. But in a genre that is healthy and vibrant - in a genre that honestly connects with the reality of human nature - the light should be permitted to counterbalance the dark (or, to borrow from Jewish tradition, the yetzer hatov should be permitted to counterpose the yetzer hara). If everything in your story is grim and hopeless - if good never wins - then you, as a writer, have not tapped into something true.

In recent years, the sci-fi/fantasy genre seems to have lost sight of this critical need for balance -- and that's why I have become one of Brad Torgersen's most aggressive boosters. Brad, you see, doesn't wallow in the pit of pseudo-profound despair. Even when he destroys the world, he leaves open the possibility of resurrection and triumph. Case in point: "Picket Ship," a short story published by Baen to drum up interest in Brad's soon-to-be-released debut novel, The Chaplain's War. (Kindle users: The e-book is already available!)

Now, I'll be upfront: I think "Picket Ship" - which takes place elsewhere in the Chaplain-verse and features other characters - is only an average story for Brad. Even so, it still manages to display his refreshing optimism. The story opens with a group of stranded soldiers who are being pursued by a mantis patrol on the colony planet of New Earth -- which is currently losing its fight against the mantis fleet. The odds against our protagonists, in other words, couldn't be more astronomical -- and yet they manage to seize at least one significant victory. True -- there are costs. True -- New Earth is ultimately abandoned. But Amelia and the others leave knowing that their enemy is not invincible.

The David-vs-Goliath trope Brad uses here is very familiar -- but as I noted in Monday's post, the fact that something is a trope does not mean it is bad. Tropes are often tropes because they speak to essential longings in the human psyche; they persist because they are reflections of our deepest selves. And if you doubt that sympathy for the underdog is one of those authentically human impulses, then your anthropology is seriously warped.

Once again, I do think Brad has written better stories. But if, just once, you'd like to read something that concludes on a reasonably upbeat note, "Picket Ship" is a solid choice.

Final Verdict: Recommended. 

The Wednesday Short: John C. Wright's One Bright Star to Guide Them

Today, we come to yet another sci-fi/fantasy author that I, as a supposed "conservative" fan and blogger, have unconscionably neglected: John C. Wright. Wright's been working in the field since 1995 and has a pretty sizable bibliography -- all of which I intend to add to my reviewing schedule at my next opportunity, as Wright has the sort of intellect that generates some genuinely interesting ideas. His conservatism is quite a bit archier than mine, but damn: I definitely can't ignore what he has to say -- and his respect for the old masters is something I really appreciate.

Which brings me to this week's Wednesday Short: One Bright Star to Guide Them. One Bright Star is Wright's homage to C.S. Lewis; it essentially asks and then attempts to answer the question, "What if the children in the Chronicles of Narnia grew up and proceeded with their adult lives -- but then were called once again to fight on the side of good? How might they have changed in the meantime?"

When it comes to recapturing the feel of Lewis' oeuvre, Wright is certainly a master. One Bright Star also decently portrays the ways in which the pressures of our own culture corrupt us as we age and make it all the more difficult to recognize the Truth for what it is. BUT -- I'm afraid I'm going to be one of "those" reviewers who complains about a novella being "too short" and "too episodic." We see Tommy meet up with each of his living friends to warn them that their old enemy is now threatening Britain, but we are denied the opportunity to experience with Tommy his daring escapes and horrifying discoveries in re: the aforementioned evil. We are, in essence, told what's happening instead of being shown.

To discuss one illustrative example: At one point, Tommy learns that a few of his old friends have fallen in with the antagonists and abandoned the cause of good. In the novella as written, this revelation happens quite abruptly over the course of one conversation -- but what kind of story do you suppose might've emerged if, instead, knowledge of this betrayal had been withheld until Tommy had been given an opportunity to fully renew his emotional connection to these characters? Don't you think both Tommy and the reader would've felt the shock more keenly? Similarly, wouldn't the story have been more powerful if the conspiracy to conquer Britain's soul had been unfolded gradually instead of all at once?

As I implied above, Wright is a skilled practitioner of the genre -- but One Bright Star doesn't, in my opinion, reflect his best work. Given his relentless and searching mind, he could've done a lot more with this basic idea.

Final Verdict: Your Mileage May Vary.

The Wednesday Short: Tom Kratman's Big Boys Don't Cry

I love me some sapient war machines. I have not yet plowed through the entirety of the Boloverse (started by Keith Laumer and continued by others), but the stories I have read have all successfully inspired sympathy for AI characters who could kill the hell out of me if they considered me a threat. Indeed, a few Bolo stories have actually made me cry -- over ginormous tanks bristling with weaponry, no less!

Here's the thing, though: From what I've seen, the Bolo stories are, with only a few exceptions, very optimistic. The relationship between man and machine? That's generally portrayed in a positive light. Bolos will, without hesitation, sacrifice themselves for their squishy, breakable human commanders because their programming includes all the features of the "ideal" soldier, including an overwhelming sense of duty to the regiment. But is there a possible dark side to this entire concept?

Enter Tom Kratman and his recently published novella, Big Boys Don't Cry. In Big Boys Don't Cry, we get to peek at the memories of a Bolo-like AI character named Magnolia who is currently being dismantled for scrap, and what emerges is a disturbing subversion of the Bolo trope. Magnolia does feel affection for the rank-and-file human soldiers who, at one time, served with her, but her human commanders feel nothing in return. In their eyes, Magnolia is just a machine that they can manipulate at will; they don't really recognize her sapience, nor do they appreciate that she can feel both emotional and physical pain.

As much as I love the Boloverse, I think Kratman's addition to the conversation is immensely valuable and all-too-likely. Let's face it: It takes a monumental effort to cultivate in man a genuine sympathy for the "Other." Until recently, I think our own civilization was on the cusp of accomplishing such a feat -- but in the end, it has proved far too easy to fall back on our tribal instincts. Would we, upon beholding an intelligent tank, actually recognize that tank's consequent rights? Maybe not. Hell -- we have trouble enough recognizing the rights of beings whose humanity is blindingly obvious!

The other sad reality Kratman ably captures is how often military men are betrayed by their leaders and their societies. Soldiers are sometimes deployed for unjustifiable reasons -- and they are sometimes abused and discarded upon their return. In light of both historical and current events, the palpable anger that leaps off the pages of this story definitely resonates.

In sum? Some have suggested that Big Boys Don't Cry should be nominated for the Hugo in 2015, and yes -- I personally think it is a potential contender. Granted, if you are extremely attached to the Boloverse, this may not be a good choice for you, but I would urge you to keep an open mind, as this novella's critical look at man's attitudes in re: AI is certainly worth the price of admission.

Final Verdict: Highly Recommended.

Interesting News!

As reported on the official site for the Hugo Awards:

This year’s Worldcon, Loncon 3, has announced that participation in the Hugo Awards is now officially at an all-time high. Loncon 3 received 3,587 valid Hugo Award final ballots (3,571 online, 16 paper). The previous high was 2,100 final ballots cast by members of the 2011 Worldcon, Renovation.

OOH-RAH! If we want the Hugo Award to represent the preferences of more than just the inner clique, this is a trend that must continue -- and that means getting even more people involved. Sad Puppies 2 was great, but Sad Puppies 3 should blow its predecessors out of the water.

Which means, of course, that during the closing months of 2014, we Human Wavers - and anyone else who, in Eric S. Raymond's formulation, wants to drag science fiction "back into the gutter where it belongs" - need to get busy and do the following:

1. Convince friends and family to participate. I for one am going to do my damnedest to persuade both my father and my co-author to buy supporting memberships for the next World Con. If you know anyone who's a fan of science fiction and/or fantasy but hasn't yet participated as a World Con voter because he or she doesn't feel said participation would matter, point them to this bit of news and remind them that a supporting membership is quite affordable and - oh by the way - comes with a lot of free stuff.
2. Start assembling our nominations lists for 2015. I will be scrolling back through this year's reviews to select my favorites, and you all should do that too. But beyond that, we also need to come together in online reading groups and discuss the worthies we find. In the down-ballot categories especially, it's hard to generate enough votes to seize a nomination unless you have a dedicated group of backers who are all willing to vote for the same thing. The upside? The dedicated group of backers does not have to be that large. Among our motley crew of Huns, Barflies, and Monster Hunters, we have enough people to seriously kick some ass. We just need to get organized. (Yes, I know, I know -- it's like herding cats. But Larry Correia seems to have had some luck.)

I'm hoping the high participation rate for this year's Hugo Awards leads to an upset in at least one category -- but regardless of the outcome, I'm still very excited. We have a real chance to turn things around and restore the Hugo to its former glory as a people's choice award. Let's not let this opportunity pass us by!

The Wednesday Short: Cedar Sanderson's Stargazer

I have a real affection for short fiction. Indeed, I've written a fair amount -- though it's all fanfiction, so I'm not sure it really counts. Short fiction, in my view, requires a somewhat different approach. Because you have fewer pages in which to accomplish your objectives, you have to economize -- which forces you to think more carefully about your word choices.

The history of sci-fi/fantasy boasts some damned fine short fiction writers. Ray Bradbury, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert A. Heinlein -- all of them accomplished some amazing things in less than a hundred pages (or sometimes less than twenty). Alas, these days, the short fiction market seems to be overrun with pretentious pseudo-sci-fi/fantasy masquerading as the real thing. The few gems - like Brad Torgersen - are the exceptions that prove the rule.

But perhaps my impression is wrong; perhaps I need to work harder to find the short fiction that's actually good. Which brings me to the purpose of my new feature: The Wednesday Short. From this week onward, I will be reviewing works that come in under a hundred pages every Wednesday night -- and maybe, along the way, I will discover reasons to have hope.

First on the docket: Cedar Sanderson's "Stargazer". "Stargazer" is the story of a mother whose options are few. Because she is hiding from her own government - and her own husband - she can't take a standard job or live in a proper home. Realizing that her children are suffering, she reaches out for help -- and in the process makes a great sacrifice.

This story is a teasing glimpse at a universe that absolutely begs for further development. When I finished it, I found myself wondering what happened next -- not to mention what brought Cedar's protagonist to her current desperate state. Without the full context, there were certain moments of the tale that felt slightly overwrought -- but when it comes to depicting the selfless nature of love, Cedar certainly does a much better job than does the author of a certain Nebula-winning short story, who cheaply manipulates her readers by playing on their worst instincts. And while "Stargazer" ends on a bittersweet note, it is still wholly worthy of the "Human Wave" label, as every character here is trying his or her best to do the right thing.

In sum? "Stargazer" is definitely worth dropping a buck. I can only pray that Cedar will revisit this particular universe and give us even more.

Final Verdict: Recommended.

The 2014 Hugos: My Final Novella Ballot

For those keeping score:

1. The short stories that received the Hugo nod this year were heinous.
2. The novelettes, however, were better.

And where do the novellas fall? Well -- here, we had more of a mixed bag. My final ballot is as follows:

1. The Chaplain's Legacy by Brad Torgersen. This novella, in which enemies at war are forced to confront their differences and cooperate for the benefit of all, is easily - EASILY - the best story on the short list in any category, and the reason is simple: It's the only nominated work whose appeal has the potential to be universal. Consider, for example, how Brad tackles his religious themes. Barlow, the male lead, is agnostic; Adanaho, the female lead, is a devout Coptic Christian; and the mantes aliens are atheistic. In the story, they all discuss their beliefs - or lack thereof - but no side is portrayed as somehow less worthy of respect. Brad allows us to sympathize with Barlow's doubt, connect with Adanaho's faith, and understand the mantes' intellectual puzzlement because he portrays all of their thoughts honestly and without distortion. A fair-mindedness that considers all angles and makes no assumptions? In fandom, sadly, this is becoming vanishingly rare. The Chaplain's Legacy also paints a very optimistic picture of the power of cultural congress to settle conflicts and achieve genuine peace (which should appeal to readers of a more liberal sentiment), presents male sexuality as a powerful temptation that can nonetheless be resisted (which should appeal to cultural conservatives), asks questions about the overwhelming dominance of technology in both human and mantes society (ditto), and stars a strong female character who outranks the male lead (which should appeal to feminists). How does Brad straddle all these lines? He does it by focusing on the story first and by thoroughly understanding his human and alien characters at a fundamental level. BRAVO. More like this, please!
2. The Butcher of Khardov by Dan Wells. The gap in quality between the first and the second slot is huge on this ballot, but I still appreciate Wells' ability to dive into a monstrous mind and explain how and why it became monstrous -- something you don't normally encounter in a basic game tie-in story. Great literary fantasy? No -- but I enjoyed it far more than the other three novellas on the list.
3. No Award.
4. Six-Gun Snow White by Catherynne M. Valente. This one made it onto my ballot on creativity points alone; admittedly, Valente did a damned good job remixing the Snow White story and slotting it into her Gold Rush-era setting. Unfortunately, this novella is as annoyingly and stridently political as "The Waiting Stars." Valente really, really wants you to know that white people impose impossible standards on "people of color" and are thus capital-E Evil, and she hammers the point home every chance she gets. Ugh! Way to ruin a concept with great potential!

Left off of the ballot entirely: Equoid by Charles Stross and Wakulla Springs by Andy Duncan and Ellen Klages. The latter novella, set during the Jim Crow era in Florida, is well-written but not sci-fi/fantasy, and the former? Well, I started off liking Stross' style a little and had high hopes -- but then I got to the tentacle rape of an under-aged girl and just -- couldn't continue. Why, Mr. Stross? Why?

And that -- finishes up my Hugo commentary for this week. Next week, after I finish my reviews for Rescue Mode and Stardogs, I'll talk about Larry Correia, Toni Weisskopf, and at least one general trend in this year's short list that I found worrying. Until then, stay tuned!

The 2014 Hugos: My Final Novelette Ballot

So, as I observed in my last post on the Hugos, the short story category seems to be in real trouble. I've been a Hugo voter for four years now, and I can honestly say that I have not yet read a nominated short story that I truly loved. I'm consequently left wondering: Where is today's Ray Bradbury? And what do we have to do to wrench that talent out of obscurity and bring him or her to the attention of the World Con audience?

Thankfully, the novelette category is not as dominated by dreck. As a matter of fact, I think the novelette category is the strongest category in this year's short list. All the stories could legitimately be classified as sci-fi/fantasy, and I only felt prompted to leave one off the ballot. Below is my final ranking with explanations for each choice:

1. "The Truth of Fact, the Truth of Feeling" by Ted Chiang. Yes, this surprises me too. I have either actively disliked or simply felt indifferent about other stories written by this author, but this novelette is a remarkably balanced exploration of enhancements to human memory and their impacts on society and our relationships. The sections dealing with literacy's effect on an oral indigenous culture scared me at first, but in the end, Chiang doesn't really come down on the side of "the literate Europeans are evil despoilers!" And the sections dealing with the futuristic "life logs" and "Remem" search engines actually did make me think. Indeed, Mom and I had a pretty good discussion in re: this story and whether we thought perfect mechanical memory was desirable. Ultimately, we decided we disagreed with Chiang's narrator; Mom pointed out that forgetfulness is often how child abuse victims and sufferers of PTSD protect themselves and heal, and I think she's absolutely right. But our dissent does not in any way alter my judgment that "The Truth of Fact, the Truth of Feeling" is good science fiction -- not of the optimistic "ray guns and aliens" space opera/adventure type, to be sure, but the genre has also been built on reflective pieces that tackle technology and its interactions with human nature, and I would like to see more in this mode.
2. "The Exchange Officers" by Brad Torgersen. If you don't like hard military science fiction, this is probably not the story for you. In my opinion, however, the near-future depicted here is well-conceived and all-too-plausible -- as is the future tech. I think Brad has written other stories that are far superior to this one (see also: my upcoming post on the novellas) -- but this is still a solid piece.
3. "Opera Vita Aeterna" by Vox Day. Day needs to control his urge to show off his erudition; the old-fashioned style of his prose and the lengthy dialogues on Thomistic theology do weigh down this story and prevent me from giving it a higher ranking. "Opera Vita Aeterna" is far from awful, though. What I especially appreciate is the message: Even if you come from entirely different backgrounds - and even if you hold radically opposed worldviews - you can still build a friendship based on mutual respect. And the fact that the atheistic elf never really changes his mind despite the efforts of the devout abbot makes this a fair work and not, as many of Day's detractors might assume, a piece of religious propaganda.
4. No Award.
5. "The Lady Astronaut of Mars" by Mary Robinette Kowal. This story deeply disturbs me for reasons I will explain in just a moment, but I didn't leave it off the ballot because I did connect, on some level, with Kowal's depiction of Nathaniel's terminal illness and thought it was well-written and accurate. I can't accept the conclusion, though. I don't like that Nathaniel's acquiescence to his own abandonment is depicted as noble. People are needy -- and as they get older and sicker, they only become needier. This is the natural progression of life that you must accept when, in an act of will, you decide to love someone. To imply that this inevitable dependence is an unfair burden and not an integral feature of a marriage is to fundamentally misunderstand what marriage is. It also misses the many ways we can become better when we comfort someone who is suffering. Dad, for example, may be a pretty irreverent character most of the time, but he becomes something else entirely when Mom is not well -- someone who may just get into heaven despite his occasionally sacrilegious jests. Consequently, I'm convinced - and there are very few things I believe with a fiercer passion - that my dad has been saved (in the Christian sense) in the act of caring for my mom -- and that while chronic and/or terminal illness is difficult and ugly, it is not ultimately purposeless or something we should avoid.

And as for "The Waiting Stars," in which sentient ship "Minds" are pulled from their rightful homes and forced to inhabit limited bodies in a society that curtails their rights? That didn't make it onto my ballot, as I found it difficult to look past the author's obvious desire to air her feminist and racial grievances -- and there were no other features of the story that really grabbed me.

Next up: the novellas!

The 2014 Hugos: My Final Short Story Ballot

As the voting deadline is fast approaching, we have now reached that special time of year at which I share my impressions of this year's short list for the Hugo Awards. In this post, I will start with the short stories, for which my ballot will look something like this:

1. No Award

2.

3.

4.
5.

Harsh? Perhaps, but I have my reasons.

First of all, while all four stories are technically competent, only one can arguably be classified as sci-i/fantasy ("The Ink Readers of Doi Saket" -- if you squint at it sideways); the others are mundane stories in genre dress. "Selkie Stories Are for Losers," for example, would not have fundamentally changed even if the narrator's mother had abandoned her family for wholly ordinary reasons, and "The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere" would've held together as a basic "coming out" tale even without - well - the water. Both "Selkie..." and "The Water..." may have included fantastic elements, but neither the Gaelic folklore in "Selkie..." nor the mystical lie detector in "The Water..." was critical to the flow of its story. The otherworldly element in both cases was mere ornament -- and in my view, you can't simply shoehorn a little unnecessary magic into a literary story and sneak it in under the sci-fi/fantasy banner. In sci-fi/fantasy, the magic - or the advanced technology - is an inalienable feature, not a careless afterthought.  

Secondly, every story on this list features a grim worldview, unsympathetic characters, or both:

• In "If You Were a Dinosaur, My Love," the point-of-view character sits beside her lover's hospital bed and imagines what would happen if said lover were a man-sized T-Rex who could gut his reportedly bigoted attackers. Not only does this daydream not count as sci-fi/fantasy (the narrator could've just as easily imagined her lover as a three-hundred pound black belt in Tae Kwon Do and an expert in combat weaponry without the skeleton of the story being altered one iota), it is also, in essence, revenge porn -- and I don't want to see that. Indeed, it makes me worry about the mental health of the fandom in general that such a tale has apparently been embraced by so many.
• In "Selkie Stories Are for Losers," the point-of-view character finds her mother's selkie skin in the attic and consequently loses her mother to the call of the sea. To "deal with" her (understandable) feelings of abandonment, said point-of-view character smokes weed and plans to run off to Colorado with her girlfriend. Needless to say, I was not impressed with this particular coping strategy. 
• "The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere," which features a gay Chinese man struggling with the prospect of introducing his boyfriend to the rest of his family, is probably the least off-putting story of the four, but even here, the main character is unattractively passive and lets his domineering sister run roughshod over his feelings.
• Finally, in "The Ink Readers of Doi Saket," a corrupt monk drowns an innocent boy in a river, and the spirit of the victim reads - and grants - the wishes of his fellow Thai. This might not have been so bad if the wishes in question weren't so self-serving and pointless. One character, for instance, wishes that her husband would be cured of his impotence. Really? We're going to murder a boy just so one of his neighbors can have sex? That's both awful and frankly nihilistic.      

So yes -- I'm going scorched earth with this particular category. If this is the best World Con voters can do, we need to widen the pool.

Surfing the Human Wave: James L. Young's Pandora's Memories

I'm not feeling at all well this weekend, but while lying in bed, I did get a chance to read James Young's Pandora's Memories, a short teaser for an upcoming alternate history series in which Hitler dies in the early days of World War II and England is apparently overrun by Nazi sympathizers. At least, that's what I managed to glean from James' afterward and the description on Amazon. Because Memories is set a decade later and focuses more on the characters' personal recollections of one particular battle, the larger historical context is missing in the story itself.

And in the end, I think that's why I'm struggling to come up with something to say about what I've just read. I liked Memories okay; I thought Tabitha and Jeff got to the French kissing a little too soon, but other than that, I have no major complaints. Unfortunately, because the aforementioned context is missing, I'm unable to fully appreciate the thought James no doubt put into his alternate timeline -- nor am I able to appreciate the stakes of the battle he so lovingly describes in retrospect. Might this story have been better served if it had been published after the longer novel?

Still, if you like military fiction, you might want to give this one a try. The dog fights depicted are well-researched, and the few historical details that are provided jog enough interest that I will probably pick up the follow-up novel when it's finally released.

Final Verdict: Recommended, But With Notes.

Surfing the Human Wave: David L. Burkhead's Live to Tell

I'm sure this particular dream is common enough: You're on the run from a group of evil men -- or monsters. You're pushing yourself as hard as you can, but your efforts seem in vain, as you can hear the enemy drawing closer and closer. If you don't do something soon, they will be within reach, so in your desperation, you hide -- perhaps in an attic or a crawl space. You do your best to quiet your breathing so you don't give yourself away.

The above describes much of the plot of David Burkhead's Live to Tell, a novella in which a sergeant must battle his PTSD to avoid capture by a contingent of alien hunters. This premise is pretty exciting, and, for the most part, Burkhead is able to maintain the required pace. Only once was I thrown out of the mood, and that was when Burkhead described the Eres for several long paragraphs. That felt like a "holy info-dump, Batman!" passage to me. While it was necessary to know something about the Eres anatomy and physiology in order to understand how Yamada could overcome them, I question whether Burkhead's excruciating detail actually served the plot.

But outside this one complaint, I think Live to Tell has the potential to be very empowering for anyone who suffers from genuine PTSD. Yamada could've allowed his fear to completely cripple him, but instead, he manages to use it to his advantage. This, I believe, sends a very important message: that we don't have to be defined by what we've suffered. That we can, instead, use our trauma to accomplish something good.

Final Verdict: Recommended    

Surfing the Human Wave: Brad Torgersen's Life Flight

I've made it pretty clear already that I love Brad Torgersen, so it's probably no surprise to any of you that I squealed when his name once again popped up on the cover of the most recent issue of Analog. And what does Torgersen offer up for our consideration in Life Flight, his newest novelette? The story of a sub-light colony ship as seen through the eyes of a character who can't preserve himself in stasis like the rest of the crew and is therefore forced to grow old on the journey.

In Life Flight, Torgersen takes a page from Daniel Keyes' book and records his point-of-view character's thoughts and feelings in journal form -- and in my judgment, I think he does a masterful job. Like Keyes, it seems Torgersen knows exactly how to adjust his style and tone to reflect his main character's gradual evolution. The early journal entries are simple and perfectly convey the concerns of a pre-teen child; the later entries grow steadily more mature and reflective. And it all works.

Throughout, the main character's emotional arc is profoundly interesting -- and, thankfully, morally grounded. When his childhood dreams are tragically ripped away, he initially loses himself in suicidal ideation and a selfish sense of entitlement. But as he grows older and wiser, he realizes he can still find meaning in his life by focusing his attentions on the other people on board -- and ultimately, while he is robbed of the chance to set foot in the promised land, he's strangely okay with that result because he knows being the guardian and shepherd of the mission still mattered.

This story absolutely bears the Torgersen mark: human characters doing big, hopeful things in the face of tragedy. I can't wait for it to become available in a generally accessible form so I can pimp it to folks who aren't subscribed to Analog.

Final Verdict: Highly Recommended.

Surfing the Human Wave: James Young's Ride of the Late Rain

My friends, I have a confession to make: I can certainly read and enjoy the different flavors of fantasy that seem to dominate the genre market at the moment. However, I'm also a gal who was basically raised on a steady diet of Heinlein, Niven, Babylon 5 and Star Trek, so I still admittedly have a bias for good old-fashioned space opera. Consequently, when I opened James Young's Ride of the Late Rain and realized it was a first contact story, I got excited. When I further realized it was the prologue for a longer series, I got even more excited. This sort of thing is in my wheelhouse! Space navies and alien civilizations? Gimme!

Granted, "first contact gone wrong" is a well-worn trope for the genre, but I do like Young's writing style -- particularly when it comes to the dialogue, which feels organic and is often funny to boot.  I also love the ethical orientation of his principal military characters. To quote: "A captain's first duty is to the human race." Dear God, yes please. If I could pick out one line that qualifies this short story for the Human Wave label, that would be it. And watching said military characters endanger their lives on behalf of a civilian transport? Thank you, Mr. Young; that is what being in the military is all about.

I do partially agree with the reviewers who complain about this story's length. I too would've liked a little more time to get emotionally invested in the characters. But did Ride of the Late Rain spark a desire to read whatever else Young has to offer? Absolutely! Like I said, this is the kind of story I crave.

Final Verdict: Recommended.