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9/3/2009 1:54:40 PM
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ejensen
Posts 1
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John,
That anecdotal description of the noir hotel that is the Roosevelt was a lovely read. And like you, we're happy to have avoided Scientology all week while doing the workshops. Thanks for the great review of the ceremony and the analysis of the first three tales in the volume. I know you must be busy, so that's awesome that you covered it all so nicely.
Evan Jensen
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9/3/2009 9:09:20 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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Hey Jordan and Evan,
Thanks for stopping by! Glad you've enjoyed my mini-reviews of the stories and their concomitant illustrations, and my recollections of the evening itself. It was memorable. Had I more time, I would have sought you both out upstairs afterward. I'm looking forward to your work - as I make my way slowly through the anthology.
That week of workshops must have really been something.
Best,
John
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9/3/2009 9:57:11 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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THE ASSIGNMENT OF RUNNER ETI by Fiona Lehn
(Illustrated by A. R. Stone)
At almost seventy pages, this is the longest story in the anthology. Interestingly, I found elements of Richard Bachman's (that is, Stephen King's) novels The Long Walk and The Running Man in this one. As in The Long Walk, here we are faced with a bizarre and brutal foot race promoted by a corrupt, dystopian, and seemingly post-apocalyptic government. As in The Running Man, the life-or-death "competition" central to the narrative forms the secret basis for a coup d'etat.
While I certainly enjoyed this novella-length piece, I did feel it was too long. Rather like Runner ETI, at times - during those lonely stretches - I wanted to fall into trance-reading, but, also like her, I knew my responsibilities to the journey made that impossible. She had to watch her footing, I the craft and flow of the text.
The concept of the Race itself, with its charity congloms vying for a state-sponsored endowment, and the enormous effort put into the training (excuse me, Training) of its representative Runners -- genetic engineering, surgical and mechanical augmentations, mental toughness exercises - starting in childhood for the (exclusively) women who participate -- was intriguing. But I never felt I really understood the social and political environment that gave rise to it. Frankly, it seemed like too much was being sunk into an endeavor that offered a modest pay-off at best. Of course, we learn that in Runner ETI's case, there is much more going on - much more at stake. That was very well done. As was the character of the Guide - a sort of off-stage, all-knowing motivator/navigator/instigator for Runner ETI.
The physical terrain of the race - notably the Gantugar - was depicted in striking, aggressive prose. And the conceit of the dictation (for lack of a better term) to the memchip - and its semi-poignant, almost Flowers for Algernonish wrap-up - that was all nicely played.
A.R. Stone's action-oriented illustration - on p. 131 - showing the boulder-fall that takes Runner WOSA out of the Race - is vibrant and alive.
So, much to recommend The Assignment of Runner ETI -- just be prepared for a long haul.
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9/4/2009 1:32:32 AM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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THE CANDY STORE by Heather McDougal
(Illustrated by Jamie Luhn)
Hmmm. Okay. Here it is. If we asked Orson Scott Card to write a confection-based short story version of Stephen King's Needful Things, and set it in the Old West-analog of his (Card's) Alvin Maker universe, this would be that story. Has the same our-time-line-but-with-magic sensibility - though Maddy comes across as much more of an Alice Hoffman "pastless, elemental heroine" [go read her novel The Probable Future to see what I mean], than a character Card himself would create. Some truly outstanding imagery here. I particularly liked Shaky Jay's hutch and how it changed with the old coot's untimely (and suspicious) death. And the sheriff's house. Simply but effectively described. The Limericks were an inspired collection; and, a warm and genuine-feeling family. Very Cardian as well.
Of course, in the updated Twilight Zone TV episode of this story, scripted by Shaun Cassidy and produced by Sam Raimi, Ed Harris would have to play the Sheriff John Adams (but -- is he weak enough?), Max Von Sydow would play Mr. Bright (but - is he too strong?), Harry Dean Stanton (assuming the guy's still alive) would take on the role of Shaky Jay, and Madeline Stowe (because I like her and she's got the right first name) would be Maddy.
My only gripes here are: 1) there really isn't much suspense at the end [not, I suppose, that there really needs to be], and 2) Maddy's just a bit too perfect. But these are minor things.
Bottom line? A fine story. Professionally paced. Solid dialogue. Exceptional work with Shaky Jay. Bang-up ending.
Jamie Luhn's illustration - on p. 199 - depicting the sheriff's meeting with Shaky Jay on the morning of the candy store's sudden appearance, perfectly suits the tone of the story, which is not dark, but, rather, light and old-timey - with shafts of darkness cutting in here and there.
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9/5/2009 1:29:37 AM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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RISQUEMAN by Mike Wood
(illustration by Evan Jensen)
Pronounced "Riskman." Definitely not "Risquéman." Nothing salacious about this staid little cozy catastrophe story. Reads a bit like John Christopher, only modernized here and there - and focused more on cause, rather than effect. What we've got here is the financial collapse of Europe -- due to the misguided governmental activation of an advanced yet seriously flawed risk-management algorithm. A program that essentially imposes broad-spectrum danger-minimizing protocols on every facet of society without taking into account their economic consequences. A clever idea. The destruction of civilization not by an asteroid blasting into the Earth's surface, or locust-like aliens landing in ten-mile-wide disc ships, or dead people reanimating, or a combat virus being released into the streets of London, or everyone going blind (with, alas, predatory mobile plants all around) - but by hitting a few keys on a computer keyboard in some dingy ministry office.
I say "staid" above because there isn't a lot of rawness, or naked pathos, or - yes - violence here. Yet there is feeling. Emotion. The love between the brilliant French mathematician Leoni and her ex-EuroCop, now respected artist husband Jen resonates. Seems sincere. Deep. A faint similarity here to the prior story, "The Candy Store" by Heather McDougal, in that in both tales the wife is spectacularly above-average (in Maddy's case, preternatural), while the husband-narrator, like Watson, barely muddles through - by sheer doggedness and salt-of-the-earth humility - all the while in awe of his partner.
A pleasant "refuge found" closing.
I liked this one. Not what I expected. A quiet story. Gentle.
Evan Jensen's stylish illustration - on p. 256 - certainly fits the story. It shows the cessation of train service along the Gower Penninsula-Swansea-Cardiff corridor. The only thing I'm unsure of is whether the helmeted, eye-bladed dude is supposed to be Jen. If so, I vastly underestimated the man. This angry, Ahab-bearded guy looks more like Sabertooth from the X-Men comics than a mild-mannered artist-cum-logo-designer!
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9/5/2009 2:51:00 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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GRAY QUEEN HOMECOMING by Schon M. Zwakman
(Illustrated by Tobias A. Fruge)
Whenever I read this title, I'm reminded of Gray Lady Down, the old submarine pic with Heston and Carradine. Not remotely similar - except in the sound of the words.
This breezy, cavalier romp has more than a teaspoon of Rod Garcia in its recipe, and at least two heaping tablespoons of Tracy-Hepburn. Funny to read yet another treatment of the "basically average guy teamed with a super woman" theme. Here, human biologic (as in real man, if you will) Solstice ("Sol"), a "daydreamer, [and] aimless traveler" hooks up pre-story with Angelissa (mostly shortened to Alissa), a "brilliant" AI in human form. Both apparently share a wild wanderlust. The brief first meeting of the two, on Olympus Mons, is fascinating - not so much for what happens but for what doesn't happen. We're never told how or why Alissa the AI already knows who Sol is. A system-wide database scan, looking for a free spirited "soul mate"? Kismet? It can't, or shouldn't, be telepathy. Alissa isn't telepathic - otherwise she would have been able to tell what Jez and Dare were up to right off the bat. Her italicized thought-communication with Sol throughout the text is some kind of electronic mind-net, not telepathy.
The use of the capitalized "She" for Alissa (only once, at Olympus Mons), had an almost-creepy H. Rider Haggard, reverential quality.
The story is about our bickering, love-hate couple returning to Sol system (and Sol's system, eh?) after centuries of real time star-traipsing. They've come back more or less out of boredom, to see what's shaking on the home front. A big mistake. Some bad poo-poo has gone down in their extended absence. Turns out a war was waged some years ago between synthetic and biologic humans. It ended in a drab, nearly hopeless truce. In their desperation, the humans released a semi-sentient virus called Gray Queen. It, along with the Synth's version - called Red, ravaged the entire system - and, in an act of tremendous collateral damage, all but eradicated the solar system's once vast AI community (housed mostly in their mysterious Core, a place never directly described). The synths and the biologics have all been infected with Gray Queen - which killed billions. But the death rate is now held at bay by using the DNA of returning space wanderers to rejuvenate humanity's genetic material. I may have missed some of that, but you get the general idea. So, in a nutshell, the Human Protectorate, which now runs things, wants to grab Sol's DNA for species-wide revitalization purposes, and wants to shut down Alissa because, I guess, it fears she will get infected by Gray Queen, go bonkers, and, well, do something awful.
That's all well and good. But it's the interplay between Alissa and Sol that is the backbone of the story. It does indeed have a Tracy-Hepburn feel. Alissa is sharp, angular, dismissive, acerbic, borderline-insulting and oh-so refined. Sol is coarse, earthy, loves to cook, is a good artist (hmm - like a certain EuroCop in Risqueman), gets by on instinct, does stupid (and downright suicidal) things. Now, of course, it's never explained why this AI, Alissa, would have a feminine-slant - why AIs in general, anywhere, would have genders, period. Or would have emotions, for that matter. But, who cares? It works nicely.
CONT'D
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9/5/2009 2:52:40 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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CONT'D
GRAY QUEEN HOMECOMING by Schon M. Zwakman
(Illustrated by Tobias A. Fruge)
_______________________________________________________
The structure of the ship, the colorful furnishings and accessories, the interesting support 'bots (the tumblers and the flutterers) - all of that was reminiscent of Rod Garcia, just without the swashbuckling.
Clean, superior SF. Good work.
The illustration by Fruge on p. 283 - showing Sol's awakening just before contact (and just after, one supposes, yet another undisclosed death-by-stupid-chance-taking) - definitely catches the eye. The Sol lying on the med bed is exactly the Sol I imagined. Nice job. However, I'd like to see a vastly different illustration - crisp, elegant, intricate, sparkling, glossy - in the vein of this anthology's glorious cover - of Alissa, and the ship.
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9/5/2009 3:33:49 PM
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Bill Moonroe
Posts 4377
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Aaarrrgh, John, you make this anthology sound so good. According to Borders.com, it's not due out until the 15th. Oh, the waiting, the waiting.
Wonder if a WOTF story has ever made it into one of Gardner's YBSF anthologies? Wouldn't that be a feather in a newbie's bonnet.
--
"A thagizer? What's that do? Hey, what's this button for? Uh-oh. Sorry about that, man. It'll grow back, right?"
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9/5/2009 3:56:06 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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Tell you what, if we can manage a FORUM WEST lunch before 9/15, I'll just give this copy to you. I've only got five stories left. Should be done in a day or two.
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9/5/2009 8:11:34 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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THE DIZZY BRIDGE by Krista Hoeppner-Leahy
(Illustrated by Aaron Anderson)
This is the first traditional fantasy story in the anthology. Two previous entries - The Shadow Man and The Candy Store - incorporated fantasy ideas, but were set in recognizable albeit slightly fabulized Earth locales. This one takes place in a completely constructed other world, a land of magically endowed stones and metals; of both illusion and simplicity, superstition and beauty. Brindisi (called Dizzy) the former sculptor, having lost his arms in some unrecorded, pre-story event, soured to the disciplines of the School, some sort of dark academy that teaches its pupils magical skills but exacts a heavy though unnamed toll therefor (no, not therefore), wanders the country building bridges with his powerful artificial arms. The story opens with Brindisi in the village of Flotola to construct such a span. He has been befriended by the human boy Lin. It's not clear to me if Brindisi himself is human. I read the tale understanding him not to be. I envisioned him as a brute of a thing, an ogre.
An illusionist has come to town, a woman-creature named Avila who can perform magnificent aerial displays, becoming a bird herself, and flying in concert with a flock of imaginary fowl. At first, Brindisi distrusts Avila, and warns Lin against believing her words, which are - in his professional estimation - just as illusory as her act. Despite this advice, young Lin grows to quickly love the illusionist. As time passes, Brindisi realizes that something is wrong with Avila, something even his once-famous skills as a builder and mender may not be able to fix. With this knowledge comes sympathy and finally compassion for her plight.
I am not a great fan of this kind of story, so I'm not the right man to judge it on its genre-specific merits. Still, I enjoyed it. I would have preferred more on the School, and more on how Brindisi lost his arms and came into possesion of his stone, metal and wood replacement limbs. The sections focusing on Brindisi's studio, and how he uses his "arms" to fashion solid rock, and metals, into bridge parts - were excellent. First class.
I suppose, given the final passage, we are to take this as a fable; that is, a fantastical tale designed to deliver a moral. Here, the moral has something to do with fragility and beauty and bridges. I'm just not sure what.
The illustration by Anderson - on p. 331 - is, I think, of Lin, with Brindisi looming behind, examining the heartfeather after Avila's disappearance - at the conclusion of their fateful rush into the forest. This is the finest illustration so far in the anthology. Dark, magical yet glowing. Brindisi, that odd combination of hulking power, child-like honesty, and weary wisdom, is perfectly captured.
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9/6/2009 2:51:09 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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GONE BLACK by Matthew S. Rotundo
(Illustrated by Luke Eidenschink)
In those rare instances when military science fiction is done right, the result can be absolutely mesmerizing. Witness Scalzi's Old Man's War and Haldeman's The Forever War. I'm happy to report that this outstanding story falls into that shining minority. Almost certainly the most professionally composed and designed piece in the anthology, Gone Black would have fit in seamlessly at Baen's Universe, and/or any number of combat SF anthologies. Crackling dialogue. Modulated internalizing by the main character Manny Gutierres. An involved and puzzling central motif. Engaging supporting characters.
Our years-long war with the amphibious Walphin isn't going well. However, in something of a fluke, we've managed to take what might be a high ranking individual Walphin prisoner. I say fluke because the Walphin usually fight to the death. He, she or it has been secretly transported by the army's Intel branch to an isolated forward supply depot - 47UmaD - for "study." To clamp down on security, the base has "gone black," meaning that it is shut off from outside communication. Manny "Outhouse" Gutierres and his team of Maggots operate 47UmaD's waste purification system - a big and important job in a self-contained habitat. One of the base's four reclamation tanks has been converted into a fresh water jail cell for the Walphin. A civilian Intel agent, Gilmore, is in charge of the highly classified, need-to-know goings-on with the Walphin. [Note: Because you've seen a million action-adventure movies and read an equal number of similar novels, you know that one of the immutable Laws of the Genre is that the civilian intelligence operative must be the bad guy. It's inevitable.]
As time passes, Manny realizes that something isn't right with the "study" that Gilmore is conducting. For one thing, it's obvious that - despite his protestations to the contrary - Gilmore (that is, Intel) actually understands the Walphin language - and is, in fact, interrogating the creature, not merely "observing" him.
Paranoia starts to infect the base. Rumors about the Walphin abound - most involving how it must be a biological weapon, set to blow when the time is right, or how it has an undetectable tracking beacon hidden somewhere in its body, which will eventually lead a fleet of Walphin battlecruisers into orbit. Etc.
As events and characters converge, and a show-down draws near, Manny finds himself in the thankless position of defending the Walphin from not just Intel but his fellow soldiers.
The entire story rides on Manny. He is the story. The good news is he's a real person. Very well put together. By no means a textbook hero. A decent, painfully honest man - and, as you'll see, not [to his credit, I think] a talented poker player.
Great stuff.
The illustration by Eidenschinck - on p. 375 - shows the Walphin's angry surge after Manny foils his attempted suicide.The Walphin bears a bit too strong a resemblance to an Alien (from the movie series) for my taste. I saw it as more porpoise-shaped, less Black Lagoonish. But, that's not a dig - just a matter of personal interpretation. Very well done.
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9/6/2009 6:13:39 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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THE REFLECTION OF MEMORY by C. L. Holland
(Illustrated by Oleksandra Barysheva)
This traditional fantasy reads a bit like Tennyson's The Lady of Shalott as rewritten by Patricia McKillip, with the tiniest of nods to China Mieville.
As with The Dizzy Bridge, I'm not the right guy to speak at length about this kind of story, it being so very much not my cup of tea. That said, I fully recognize and respect the skill that has gone into its composition; and find the flow of it - like the river that seethes by and around the Lady's island - strong and deep. The problem with this sort of fantasy is that the line between rich prose and self-parody is devilishly thin. A few misplaced thees, thous, or good sirs, and you've got yourself The Princess Bride. Ms. Holland handles all that with aplomb.
Amnesiac young woman wakes up alone in a cold forest, and is saved by a man who can change himself into a bird at will. She travels with this man, Kestrin, to his castle residence, Lorn Hold, and meets his shapeshifting family. A wandering, golden-skinned wise man named Yaphen shows up. After playing a moving song on his harp for everyone, he allows as how he knows of a lady who might be able to help with the young woman's amnesia. The problem is: she lives on an island in the middle of a faraway river. It's agreed that Kestrin and Yaphen and the girl who can't remember her own name (but is called Calony, for convenience) will journey by foot to this Lady's domain. Turns out there's more going on than meets the eye. This river lady and the amnesiac are very closely related. What follows involves curses, doomed love, a lot of mirrors, name-shaping, reflection-jumping, and crumbling ruins.
The illustration by top award winner Barysheva is on p. 454, and - I believe - shows the first "meeting" of Calony with Allisana. Nicely rendered.
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edited by John E. Rogers, Jr. on 9/6/2009
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9/7/2009 3:01:08 AM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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AFTER THE FINAL SUNSET, AGAIN by Jordan Lapp
(Illustrated by Joshua J. Stewart)
This Gaimanized theofantasy blazes along at the speed of a wildfire, slowing only when the flames of the story are cooled by the unnatural, though clever, extension of the main character's life. The tale is advanced greatly by the author's decision not to backfill. Let the readers add the remaining pieces of the puzzle as they see fit. We start with the raging coalescence of an actual Phoenix - a female, in human guise - swirling into being out of raw background elements - in an empty apartment somewhere in an unnamed American city. This creature, we learn, is designed to live but a day - self-incinerating at sunset, to be born afresh the next morning, with no recollection of her past deeds or fiery demise. Her mission is to proceed immediately into the bowels of the city, save as many people as she can from accidental death, and take other life-improving steps for mankind. To make her way in the world, the Phoenix borrows memories and life lessons from the minds of the (mostly) unsuspecting tenants in the neighoring flats.
However, after millennia of uninterrupted 24 hour cycles of birth-service-death, something unusual happens to our particular Phoenix. During her birth. she encounters another supernatural force and - for the first time - begins to resent her accelerated mortality. What she does to stave it off is the meat of the tale.
A real standout.
Stewart's drawing, on p. 484, captures our Phoenix sitting in her makeshift cooling tub, surrounded by steam and ice.
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edited by John E. Rogers, Jr. on 9/7/2009
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9/7/2009 8:42:51 AM
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Bill Moonroe
Posts 4377
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John E. Rogers, Jr. wrote:
Tell you what, if we can manage a FORUM WEST lunch before 9/15, I'll just give this copy to you. I've only got five stories left. Should be done in a day or two.
Hey, thanks, John, I appreciate it.
--
"A thagizer? What's that do? Hey, what's this button for? Uh-oh. Sorry about that, man. It'll grow back, right?"
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9/7/2009 3:33:17 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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THE FARTHEST BORN by Gary Kloster
(Illustrated by Mark Payton)
Call Me Joe meets Lord of the Flies?
A coming-of-age tale, painstakingly arced, with a firm grasp of its teenaged protagonist Lilly; her hidden angst, suppressed fears, and world-class petulance.
We've figured out how to colonize distant star systems, but the process is cumbersome, to say the least. We send automated seed ships to faraway planets. These ships travel at what I gather is about one-third light speed, and carry start-up supplies, machinery, and - most important of all - loads of unborn children. These children will be born in artificial wombs on the colony world(s) and raised by surrogate androids. The central conceit of the story is that these surrogate androids, for the bulk of the time, will be remotely operated by the actual parents of the colonist children. For reasons never fully elaborated upon, living adult humans cannot make the transit. But they can participate due the development of a form of instantaneous supraluminal communication. These parents spend 14 or so hours a day plugged into puppet-control equipment, mentally and sensorially attached to sophisticated. human-looking robots.
Our story is set on Arali, the first, and so far only, colony world. It is thirty light years away. A large native predator is on the loose in the colony territory and, for the first time ever, contact with Earth crashes. The children are on their own. Well, on their own except for that hungry tavi prowling just outside the walls . . . .
Solid storytelling here. With a perceptive and sympathetic take on the pangs of an adolescence spent on a lonely, distant and primitive colony.
Did I have trouble with the notion that we could remotely operate androids thirty light years away, with no time lag whatsoever? Sure I did. But - hey - this is all about suspension of disbelief. I managed.
A fine entry.
Payton's almost two-dimensional pontillist illustration - on p. 529 - shows a scene not quite from the story, and not quite in keeping with the tone of the end. Lilly is brashly holding her needle rifle, striking the customary pose of a big game hunter - that is, left leg "Captain Morganed" over the dead and inexplicably four-legged (but otherwise accurately drawn) tavi. Her temp'droided father is standing beside her. Lilly looks, of all things, smug. That doesn't work for me. The artwork is excellent. The crawler, the structures, the sky -- all perfect. But Lilly should be looking relieved, and tearful, perhaps even a little wild-eyed.
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edited by John E. Rogers, Jr. on 9/7/2009
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9/7/2009 4:13:07 PM
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John E. Rogers, Jr.
Posts 2077
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CONCLUSION
That wraps up the book. A great read. Much better than I thought it would be. Until about a week ago, I'd never once cracked open a Writers of the Future volume. My thinking was: Just how good could a compilation of (admittedly gifted) first-timers' work really be? Answer: surprisingly good. Make that damn good. Every story was professionally groomed, superlatively edited, and written with heart and soul.
Of course, some stood out.
Rotundo's military SF novella (it's 65 pages long) "Gone Black" evidences the clearest, cleanest and most marketable prose. And is a hell of a story.
Linnaea's bizarre, rule-breaking steam monk story "Life in Steam" exhibits a form of literary bravado (and bravura) we need to see more of.
Zwakman's "Gray Queen Homecoming" and Kloster's "The Farthest Born" represent sterling examples of bedrock SF; the former relying on Garcia-like colors and big-concept elegance, the latter on well-honed storytelling skills.
From the fantasy quarter, I give the top nod to Lapp's "After the Final Sunset, Again." Like Linnaea's story, this one dared to reach further, take more chances. McDougal's "The Candy Store" was also memorable - for its hybridized vision and its warmth.
The rest of the tales, to a one, were very well done.
My favorite illustration is Anderson's panel from "The Dizzy Bridge," dark, menacing shadows surrounding a soft, glowing child. Stewart's illustration in "After the Final Sunset, Again" has many of the same qualities, but blends in sharpness. Behren's portrait of Mendel, from "Life in Steam," really gets to the heart of the man and his demons. And Jensen's treatment of the barren aftermath of the Risqueman disaster was finely wrought. Each illustration was good in its own way.
Congratulations to all.
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edited by John E. Rogers, Jr. on 9/7/2009
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9/8/2009 7:03:32 PM
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Sam Wilson
Posts 1015
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A footnote regarding the WOTF stories...leaving aside the success that many of the writers went on to have, 2 of the stories from the series were nominated for a Hugo---stories by Nicholas A. DiChario and Jay Lake---and one, THE WINTERBERRY, wasn't even a winner, but a finalist!---THE WINTERBERRY was also selected for THE BEST ALTERNATE HISTORY STORIES OF THE 20TH CENTURY. David Zindell's "Shanidar" was picked up by Terry Carr for his Best of the Year anthology.
All in all the stories show average of talent.
--
If the rule that you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?
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9/8/2009 7:05:00 PM
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Sam Wilson
Posts 1015
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Meant to say the stories show a high average of talent, unlike my typing skills. 
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If the rule that you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?
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