Short story - Suspended Disbelief

Warning, this short story contains references to and descriptions of violence and prejudice. May be triggering for some audiences, especially right now.

Having your neck broken hurts. Having your neck not break, but instead wrenched and constricted by your own bodyweight so your windpipe and arteries are tightened like the twists in a pig’s guts is far worse. I don’t know why they went for me, why they picked me. They didn’t say much except slurs and insults I won’t repeat here. They just strung me up, and watched. Some of them were even laughing. I won’t lie, I pissed my pants while I was up there. No shame in that, it’s biological.

I might’ve been left up there to rot while they rode away, but something happened. I didn’t die. Not because I’m some crazy strong hunk who’ll break a rope with his own neck, nor because some white guy came along and rescued me. I was still up there, my brain just about ticking over, when a voice spoke. It was a woman’s voice.

“I take it you dislike suspenseful stories.”

I couldn’t exactly turn to look, but I could swear someone had just appeared next to me. I don’t know how to describe it exactly, but... Imagine when someone comes round a door quietly, so it looks like they’ve just appeared. Like that, only there wasn’t any door. Just think air around me and my piss-stained jeans. She did eventually appear, but I couldn’t exactly ‘see’ her. I was nearly dead, and everything was a red haze. I’m pretty sure there were wings there, and something that reflected the sunlight around her shoulders.

I couldn’t speak, but I’m pretty sure I ‘thought’ to her. You an angel?

The reply held a smile. “No, and no devil either. I’m here to make a proposal. I take it you do not wish to remain for the next five weeks up there?”

What d’you think?

“I think a cowboy like you, just minding his own business while he went to another herd, did not deserve to become the guest of a necktie party. What would Lucas say if he saw you now?”

I didn’t know what to think about that. Lucas had a wife at his ranch, but during our drives together, we... Well, it happened in those days. We’d do our thing to survive, to stay sane, to be close together. But...well, I didn’t wanna linger on it. I was about to die, so might as well enjoy whatever this hallucination was. The shape in the red haze seemed to be turning to look directly at me.

“Not a pretty sight now, but you were comely once upon a time. I can see that, as I can see elements of your memories while your brain continues to function. You may be comely again. Would you here my proposal?”

Why not? Not like you’re real anyway.

“Oh ye of little faith. The proposal is simple. You get to live out your natural lifespan, in exchange for...serving me.”

If my blood hadn’t already been bursting my brain, I’d have felt it rising. My people had fought to break free of those white bastards in the south ten years before, and seeing another white bitch making another offer... But... Wait, was she white? I couldn’t tell through the haze of pain. She didn’t seem to be any skin colour I’d known. Not White, not Black, not Mexican, not Chinese. Not even anyone from the Chickasaw or Seminole or any other tribe I’d met while herding the cattle on their drives. The woman’s voice pushed through my brain again.

“Let me see, what is the date now? Ah yes, in the current human calendar, it is 1871 July 23. You will be an agent for us until 1971 July 22.”

Agent? You don’t look like no agent.

“Ah yes, the double negative. An interesting linguistic quirk, sadly demonised by speakers of so-called ‘proper language’. You see, our presence on your world is naturally very limited, and requires us to use local help and knowledge to aid in our own issues. In exchange for agreeing to this service, you shall not only be restored to full health, but you shall ceased to age for the duration of your service, you shall have more than adequate funds, and access to our private resources.”

It was too good to be true. What’s the catch?

“Well...you will be unageing. You will outlive everyone else around you. And you must perform a certain mission for us. And it may not always be pleasant.”

So you’re really just a driver.

“If you wish to use such a colloquialism. There is no compulsion to accept the offer, that is not our way. You must do so in full knowledge of what you must accept. If you wish to stay up there and die, we shall not gainsay your choice.”

Her meaning was clear. If I didn’t say yes, she’d leave me swinging. If I said yes, she’d let me down, but I’d be tied to her for a century. Hell, I wanted to tell her to go to hell, but...

Where do I sign up?

“There is nothing to ‘sign’. But you will feel a slight bump.”

The figure moved, produced something. There was a flash of light, then I dropped to the ground. I was about four feet up, and I’m pretty sure something broke. Then I was rolled onto my front, and then... I don’t wanna describe the pain I felt in that moment, so I won’t. Just put it this way; Jesus had it easier.

When my vision cleared, I was still lying on the ground. My hands were still tied with some kinda twine which cut my skin, and I felt that bloody noose round my neck, but it was loose. I wasn’t slowly strangling to death under my own weight anymore. I wasn’t hanging anymore. And over me...

I kid you not, I almost pissed my pants again. The figure over me wasn’t a devil, but it sure wasn’t no angel. It was as if a snake had kids with an eagle and both parts hadn’t torn each other apart. Scaly skin, six pairs of wings, the kind of face I’d last seen on a cut-up body at Gettysburg, and hands more like scorpion claws than anything I’d want stroking me. But that voice... I hadn’t noticed how beautiful it was when I was dying. It looked small now, hovering in the air, some strange light that wasn’t the sun dancing around it.

“Contract has been established, revival achieved. Revival, standard, so no additional time to compensate. What name should I use for you? Not your own, but a name that is how you will be referred to by me.”

I thought. Well, I’d cheated death, I guess. I hadn’t done it myself, but I’d taken the chance. Now I’d have to live with what I’d done. Like...

“Spider.”

The thing looked at the object it held again. “Spider. A reference to Anansi. Trickster deity common among the peoples of West Africa. A suitable code. Very well, spider. I leave you with a first gift.”

A snap, of fingers or claws, and I felt the twine round my wrists snap. There was a thud, and the thing...walked through the door. Again, that’s the only way to describe it. It was bloody hot, so I pushed myself up and made for the shade of the tree those White bastards had used as a gallows. I looked at where I think the thing had dropped whatever it was, and saw a small object. A parcel loosely tied with the same kind of twine that bound my wrists.

Well, there wasn’t nothing else to do. Pulling that noose off, I settled down and unwrapped the parcel. It was a note, wrapped round a small wad of money. $500. I swear to you, I’d never seen that much in my life before all in one place. I guess it took a few seconds for me to realise my mouth was flapping like an undone fly. I got that money deep into my pocket, then looked at the note. My Momma had taught me to read, and the writing was clear.

‘Go fifteen miles south of here to the town of Long’s Rest. Go to the local saloon and speak with the bartender. When she asked what you would like, say “A Fae Special”.’

I folded it. There was no doubt, I was alive. Or maybe I was some ghost and I’d be walking around spooking people for God knew how long. But if I was alive... Better alive and walking around than left hanging, or buried by the roadside or tossed in a creek.

Walking fifteen miles is no joke, and my boots weren’t the best. But I got there, found a one-horse town that probably hadn’t seen any action since some lost 49’ers came through way back when. Ultimately, it was a simple job finding the saloon, pushing my way inside, seeing no-one around, seeing the Chinese bartender wiping down some spill that looked to have a trace of something other that whiskey or water in its contents. She looked directly at me, and what I’ve heard called a stage smile spread over her face.

“What can I get you?”

I almost ran, but I managed to get the words out. “I’ll have...a fae special.”

The change in expression on her face was a bit frightening. Her smile remained the same, but her eyes went cold, flicking from side to side. Then she gave a signal with her hand to ‘come with me’. Her voice was still the same.

“I think we’ve got some of that in the back. But there’s some crates on it, mind helping move them?”

“Sure.”

There wasn’t anyone in the place to stare at us as she led me round into the small storeroom. There was a bucket of lye there, and the air inside the place was really dry. Wondered why, given where we were. She motioned to close the door, and when I did she immediately rushed forward and pinned me.

“Who sent you?”

I didn’t know how to answer. Glad I didn’t have to. That voice came again, the female voice, this time hovering behind the barkeep.

“I sent him, Wan’er. So you need not be suspicious.”

The woman turned, and I saw what she saw. The same thing I’d vaguely seen above me when I’d been cut down and brought back. It...looked like a human. I don’t know what else to say. It had two legs—they bent the wrong way—two arms—they ended in those claw things—other things—either too many or too small—and a head that looked like a crab got stitched together with a dried-up herring. And its wings looked more like those crazy things Le Bris created.

The woman Wan’er turned and bowed her head. “Apologies. But I can’t be too careful these days. You know the kind of thing that’s round around.”

“I know.” The thing looked at me with its three eyes. “I am glad you decided to trust me. Or perhaps it was mere curiosity that led you here.”

“Call it curiosity.” I glanced down at myself. “Sorry about this.”

“I have had far worse enter my saloon.” Wan’er walked to a large barrel and pulled the front away, showing the shelves inside. “You’ll need new clothes. I’ll get rid of the old ones.”

The thing, still hovering, turned slowly to look at me directly. “By the way, we have a number of methods for...detailing matters. But we have no means of reading minds. I would know your name.”

I couldn’t stop the smile creasing my face. “The name’s Dallas. Dallas O’Key.”

Wan’er, who’d gotten a fresh set of clothes out, turned. “What kind of a name is that?”

I’d already died once, so it didn’t feel like much to tell the story. I won’t give you the version I told them. I’ll give you the brief version. And the truth. My Mama was working in the south on a plantation. One night, one of the drivers got horny and took her. I appeared nine months later. She called me Kwaku because I was born on a Wednesday. The driver knew I’d come from him, and he called me Dallas O’Kay. Must’ve thought I was an okay kid. He called me Dallas after where he was from. My first memory was the driver beating me and Momma with his whip.

My next clear memory was seeing the guy’s corpse beaten up during a breakaway, and getting away while my Mama distracted some of the other drivers. I never saw her again, but I remember a gunshot. After that, I lived how I could. Did some things I’m not proud of, but before any conservative crapsack suggests anything, that’s not why I like guys. I always did. It’s nothing unnatural, it’s just who I am. It’s why I liked Lucas, why I slept with him when we were running our cattle drives. The others didn’t care much, just wanted us to be quiet about it. There’s plenty you can do quietly at night in your bed.

The thing stared at me with its three shining silver eyes. “Your names are nice.”

“Better than what the driver called me.”

“Which was?”

“Shitbag.”

“That is a somewhat inappropriate name. Even by the standards of your species.”

“Yeah, no shit. Well...” I grinned, stretched. “Guess I’ve got a job now. What’s the pay? Or is $500 all I’m getting?”

“Our pay is quite suitable. $500 per year.”

I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped again. Don’t know if you’d think much of $500 a month, but back then, it was a bloody fortune. You were lucky to get $10 a month, I think the highest you got paid was $50 for one job. The creature looked hard at me.

“It is not merely for luxury. You need the means to purchase supplies, potentially bribe people, and pay rent for any accommodations you need to stay inconspicuous.”

“And I’m doing this...why?”

“You shall know. When the time comes. When we can walk among you without concern. Until then, do as you please.” A pause, then the creature continued. “And, so you know, you may call me Idiya.”

With that, the creature vanished. Just like before, just ‘walked’ through something that made it just vanish. I was left alone with the woman Wan’er, who was getting other stuff I’d need. A hat. A small gun. I felt the money there again. Well, first I was getting myself a new horse, then I was riding off to find somewhere safe. Maybe find Lucas again, let him know I was fine. And then... Well, as to what I ended up doing, that’s to come.

Coming relatively soon: Author Talks Season 3

Long title, I know. But this has been a while coming. I've had to rethink and re-evaluate how I want to do this. I'll leave earlier more ad-hoc episodes up if only for comparison's sake, but I want to switch to a more scripted and less chaotic style. There are a number of concepts that have rattled around one way or another for the next set of episodes for my one-person podcast where I talk about things, and occasionally read short stories. I don't know exactly WHEN the new episodes will start appearing, as it will take longer due to needing to actually write and research the things. But I want to start getting them out by May/June this year, and between six and twelve episodes if everything goes to plan.

Here's a preview for anyone interested of a few things I'll likely be talking about or doing.

*The romanticizing of terrible futures: This is a bit of a potentially hot topic now, with Russia being Russia, China being China, and America becoming something horrible. Mech wars. Dystopias. Cyberpunk. Grimdark. Aren't they supposed to be a warning, not a template?

*Looking back at my writing journey from scribbling in an exercise book to...being published. Yikes.

*A short story from one of the classic older authors. I've done Lovecraft, Wells, Porges. Might try someone else now.

*Research books. They are important, and they aren't necessarily all non-fiction. Battle Royale anyone?

*Something of mine. Maybe a sample from an upcoming work, perhaps one of my pieces of short fiction. Depends.

*A writer and fan's perspective deep dive into a fictional universe I have deep knowledge or direct experience or. Or maybe more than one to compare and contrast. Whichever, expect both praise and critiques.

Want to check out the rest of Author Talks? I'll link the Spotify and YouTube versions below so you can dip into terrible sound quality, stuttering, adlib things, and for several episodes a fountain of bloopers.

https://open.spotify.com/show/1Fwq88YhRd0NYz6pZAnK9Z#login

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLCPsNUSX2K2ZMvfhlx3HIWZNYyoU0mQ5G

My Favourite Women in Fiction

It's Women's History Month, and many others are far more qualified and important in talking about the women of history who stood out and continue to inspire, especially in times when social freedoms and qualities are or are attempted to be walked back by wannabe kings. But one thing I think I can comment on is the women I encountered in my life through fiction, the women who left an impression on me. These are the figures who influenced by taste towards including either female leads, or having women in prominent/dominant positions, or having a large female representation in the cast.

This list isn't comprehensive, it's meant to be scholastic, it's a day late for International Women's Day, and I'm just one bisexual white British man with opinions. I'm not the final say, and shouldn't be, and I'm not in a position to speak about minorities outside liking some characters in fiction who belong to them. I also know my taste in fiction is occasionally more mainstream than it should be. Want to know more about writing female characters from a female perspective, please check out Emily Inkpen, who is creating a series of articles on her blog about writing female characters, including the pitfalls men fall into (I admit, I've probably stumbled into them myself)

So, without further ado, my list in no particular order.

• Kathleen "Kitty" Jones: The third protagonist of Jonathan Stroud's Bartimaeus trilogy, introduced in the second book The Golem's Eye, Kitty helped elavate this series from an enjoyable romp to a solid favourite. After seeing the oppressive control of magicians first-hand, and having the ability to negate their power somewhat, Kitty becomes a keystone in the growing conflict between magicians, their djinn slaves, and commoners. She is a standout, though I won't say how much as that's spoilers.

• Tehanu/Therru: I couldn't not put an Ursula le Guin character here, and she's amazing. A child who is taken in by Tenar after being horribly scarred by an abusive family, Tehanu's journey through her titular book at The Other Wind is one of self-actualisation and recovery from trauma. I could put her adoptive mother Tenar in here as well, but Tehanu gets extra points for also being a dragon. Even the debabably terrible Ghibli film based on le Guin's books manages to create a more than serviceable Tehanu.

• Ursula Morrow: A recent find from Gareth Powell's Future's End that was a lovely surprise. She's a great character, snappy yet not invulnerable, and dealing with several issues at once in a way that doesn't feel overly dramatic or silly. There is also the AI character Chris who presents as female, but I chose Ursula as she is the lead, and she is very much the one in control of things by the end of the story.

• Queen Elizabeth I: Yes, she's a historical figure, but the version played by Glenda Jackson in Elizabeth R is more than a little fictionalised, despite the series avoiding some of the regular traps surrounding her and Robert Dudley. Not all, but enough that isn't not egregious. As played by Jackson, Elizabeth is a presence, a forceful character at once liberated and burdened by her position as head of church and state. I find myself unconsciously comparing other fictional or fictionalised queens to this portrayal.

• Buffy Summers: An obvious pick, and again an old one. And sadly from a writer whose reputation has gone downhill in recent years following revelations about his behaviour and character. But I'll still say Buffy's someone who was part of my culture growing up, and the one I engaged with the most. Xena was also around at this time, but it was Buffy I connected with. I also saw most of the final season, which left me with a solid impression of a woman who grits her teeth and does what is necessary in the face of a seemingly impossible threat.

• Romana: Another oldie, sorry. But an oldie I adore. A Doctor Who character explicitly created as a foil and equal to the time-travelling alien, Romana (full name, Romanadvoratrelundar) is my favourite companion in the whole series. She does fall into the distressed companion trope a few times sadly, but she also has the brains and wit to not sit quietly or whimper about it. She often escapes on her own, or saves the Doctor, and having someone who can return the Doctor's technobabble shot for shot is something the recent series has...sadly lacked. The Doctor needs someone who won't stand being talked down to again.

• Yú Xiùlián and Yù Jiāolóng: I couldn't pick between these two lead women from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, probably the archtypical modern wuxia. The central emotional conflict of the film revolves around these two, the role of women in both Qing Dynasty-era and modern Chinese society, and their respective attitudes towards the men in their lives. Both are tragic in different ways, but they were also incredible examples to me of women who struggled against a system in contrasting ways: Xiùlián with calm and quiet determination, Jiāolóng through brash and open rebellion.

• Catwoman: I just adore her, and if I ever get the chance, I'd love to write a Catwoman story of her just doing her own chaotic-good thing. I've got four versions that stick in my mind and are something which brings a smile to my face. The 1960s version played by three different actresses--Julie Newmar, Lee Meriweather, and the glorious Eartha Kitt--is pure unadulterated camp. Michelle Pffeifer's version from Batman Returns is certainly something, but not a favourite as she's a bit too dark. Halle Berry's 2004 version is...an acquired taste, like her film, but she's a lot of fun. And Ann Hathaway's version in the third of Nolan's Batman films is the one bright spot in a very dull film--if only she didn't have the most forced Batman romance ever.

• Adèle Blanc-Sec: I admit, I've never encountered the original comic version, only the interpretation that came from Luc Besson in his 2010s movie. Again, unfortunately, another product from a problematic creator. But I have to honestly say, I really like Adèle, portrayed with suitable verve and spunk by Louise Bourgoin. She is still feminine by the standards of her character's time, but with an added touch of devil-may-care and couldn't-give-an-F that elevates her above the standard protagonist for this kind of adventure. Not perfect, but worth a watch, and a favourite for good reasons.

• Lightning: I came to the Final Fantasy series by way of the movies, with my first game exposures being the divisive Final Fantasy XIII and the wider Fabula Nova Crystallis concept. This was once an unpopular opinion, but I really like Lightning. She's not a perfect character, but she was deliberately written that way. She's quick to anger, withdrawn, pushy, but ultimately admits and seeks to atone for her mistakes. Her evolution across three games from stoic soldier to penitent divine warrior to saviour of the world is an arc I found engaging and enjoyable.

• Zero: A character from the niche Drakengard series who...might raise eyebrows. She is a foul-mouthed ex-prostitute and criminal who is revived by mystical forces to destroy humanity. She grudgingly works against this assigned fate, though due to how the story is told, she initially comes off as a psychopath hunting down her sisters and slaughtering anyone in her way. She is also caustic at best and abusive at worst to her companions. But beneath the F-bombs and casual talk of sex, there is a real depth to her, and her attitude is one I actually really like. A refreshing breath of foul-mouthed yet good-hearted air.

• Lara Croft: I've saved her for last as I did a whole video on her and uploaded it onto my YouTube channel on her fictional birthday last month. Lara isn't perfect; she's got a lot of archaic elements attached to her character, has suffered from being created by and managed by men for a chunk of her lifetime, is highly sexualised in a lot of her marketing, and she likely doesn't reflect much of the pushes for diversity present today. But she's the one who made me fall in love with games as a story medium, and solidified my love of women in fiction. Video linked below.

A honourable mention goes to the female incarnation of Commander Shepherd. I didn't want to include this in the main list, still not sure why, but I think this for me is the definitive Shepherd. Yes, she houses several problematic American military stereotypes, but Jennifer Hale's performance and the overall writing quality lift her up to a pedestal her male counterpart can't hope to touch. Also (as shown in the image above) Nilin from Remember Me. I really like her, but there are some SERIOUS issues with her writing that constantly undermine what she was trying to be.

"Liked it, wouldn't experience again."

 In my review of Future's Edge last week, one of the compliments I paid was that it was a book I would want to re-read, rather than one of those I would read once, but never really pick up again either in a hurry or ever again. And that led me indirectly to remembering other things I had read, watched, played, listened to once but never again. Similar to my list of sci-fi movies, I'll go through bits of media I've experienced and thought "liked it, wouldn't experience again".

*Alex Rider series (2000-?????): This is an instance that could have gone in my "saw film first" post, as I saw the rather bonkers Stormbreaker film, wondered what Anthony Horowitz's original book was like, and have loathed the film since because...reasons. But ultimately I don't think I'll ever be returning to or re-reading these titles. They have a place for me in my formative reading, and the third novel Skeleton Key is one I recall fondly (also pretty dark, read with caution). But I suffered burnout when I was bought the next three novels after Skeleton Key, when they became...large. By the time I reached the opening fifth of Scopia, I dropped the series and haven't returned. I may well be part burnout, part changing tastes in my habits of reading.

The Roman Mysteries (2001-2009): Caroline Lawrence's series, while principally aimed at children, was a very fun read for me. The Thieves of Ostia was one of my first exposures to a realistic depiction of the Roman world that wasn't extremely grim and bloody. I still remember the second book The Secrets of Vesuvius vividly, contrasting the reunion of a fractured family against the destruction of Pompeii in 79 CE. I finished The Twelve Tasks of Flavia Gemina and started The Enemies of Jupiter before feeling I was growing tired of it. It wasn't just that I was growing up and my fiction tastes were changing, but that getting two books out of order, The Sirens of Surrentum and The Beggar of Volubilis, put me off as this is a series you need to read in order. Again, like the Alex Rider books, it was a combination of factors.

*The Fly (1986): I was FAR too young when I first saw this classic body horror, and the bit that's always stuck in my mind is the final fifteen minutes or so, when the scientist undergoes his final transformation into a disgusting human/fly hybrid, and (dancing around spoilers here) makes a desperate attempt to continue living. Unlike the 1958 film which I've seen multiple times, with both being based on a 1957 short story by George Langelaan, David Cronenberg's film otherwise feels very flat compared to other roughly equivalent sci-fi horror titles like Alien or Predator or even The Thing from what I've heard. It holds little interest for me beyond the incredible practical effects in that final quarter hour, and I have little to no wish to rewatch it in full. I can see the "good" bit on YouTube if I want.

The Big Country (1958): There are very few "Westerns" that I actually like (the Support your Local duology, Hallelujah Trail and select Eastwood titles are those I do). Most Westerns immediately turned me off for reasons I couldn't pinpoint for years. Those reasons are ultimately to do with the racial, gender, sexual and historical propaganda the medium continues to peddle in most instances. Not all, but most. The Big Country feels like the exemplar of what I don't like about the medium, outside most of the John Wayne corpus. It's just so long, and so...generic White America. I know that's harsh, but it's also true. I get the appeal, and there are some standout bits, but generally....eh. If this is supposed to a definitive Western, I'll go find a non-definitive one.

Dishonourable mention goes to Avatar, which against my better judgement I saw more than once and I wish I hadn't because it's...not good. Heck, I wrote a whole book in my Cluster Cycle explicitly as a deconstruction of its premise and structure. Plenty of people seem to love it, but as we're seeing in America, just because people shout about something a lot doesn't mean it's a good thing.

Review; Future's Edge by Gareth L. Powell

 A little while ago, I gave a recommendation to this latest sci-fi novel by Gareth L. Powell, Future's Edge. Now I've read the thing in full, I can give a full review for what this platform is worth. This review is based on a copy of the paperback edition, releasing 25 February (I somehow got a copy over a fortnight early). So...is it worth reading?

The story principally follows Ursula Morrow, an archaeologist with two major issues in her life: an alien organism from an artefact that has bonded with her on a molecular level and rendered her invulnerable to injury, and being one of a small number of humans who escape Earth when it is attacked by a hostile alien force dubbed the Cutters. When an old flame turns up, she is drawn into a search for the artefact that infected her, as there is a chance it may be the key to turning the tide against the Cutters before they wipe out both humanity and other interstellar species under threat from a systematic genocide.

The story is neither simple nor overly complex, and is quite pacy. If I'm being blunt, the premise and overall set-up isn't anything truly groundbreaking. I was seeing constant parallels to sci-fi works including Titan A.E. and Dead Space, but the real quality lies in its writing and characters. Ursula is instantly likeable and relatable, and the predicaments she finds herself in are both outlandish and grounded. The supporting cast is also entertaining, from her ship captain ex-lover Jack to "Chris", the AI persona of his ship the Crisis Actor (one of the best-written AI characters in a long time, I might add). The writing also solidly portrays the desperation of a species being hunted to extinction, and other aspects I won't be touching on because spoilers..

I'll also say that this is a great place to jump into Powell's work. I may be wrong, but there don't appear to be any explicit continuity links with earlier sci-fi series, just a commonality of theme. Is it a repeat read? Not immediately, but definitely eventually. I have some issues with its ending, but that's more down to personal taste than overall quality. There are books I read once then never really touch again (Leviathan Wakes and Battle Royale spring to mind), so that I want to re-read this is a mark of its quality. I wouldn't say no to a continuation of this universe and these characters. Especially Ursula, as she is an entertaining protagonist.

8/10

(This has no impact on my score, but the paperback copy I received had some minor printing errors caused by crumpled pages and small typos. These are purely mechanical and do not impact my opinion of the story and writing quality.)

When you see the movie first...

I was born in 1994, the era of not just two or three, but at least six different mediums of storytelling. There's books obviously, but also radio, film, television, the stage, and the youngest format: video games. When something is a success in one area, it's become a certainty that it will be transposed into another, either through a media expansion or an adaptation. And as I had specific dyslexic problems which prevented me from reading text properly, and not much of a "gamer", I encountered those two mediums through film and television. So I'll go in order with five adaptations that I saw/heard/experienced, how I felt at the time, and what I think now I've encountered the original.

*Pride and Prejudice (1995): We saw this on the OG broadcast, it was part of my early television life through our VHS recordings, and I think it still stands as THE best Austin adaptation of the period, if not of all screen time. It accurately adapts the novel's content and a vast chunk of its dialogue while trimming some of the original book's fat. That book, while still a great and insightful read over 110 years after its authorship, can wander a little and be a chore if you're not cued into some of the social aspects Austin is satirising.

*Lord of the Rings (2001-2003): I'd never encountered Tolkien's fantasy classic until now, except as an intimidating cover of a compilation of all three books in type so small I could barely read three words together of the old-fashioned prose. I remember enjoying the films as they released, and I still consider the Extended Editions as definitive fantasy experiences which did the impossible: they turned a rambling and often tiring narrative into a digestible sweeping epic, cutting out inconsequential or bumbling episodes (Bombadill, the wild men or whoever they were) and giving added prominence to other female characters (Arwen, Eowyn) without breaking the narrative. I'm not a huge Tolkien fan, he's too traditionally Nordic for my tastes, but I will always have a liking for the movies. When I've the time.

(I won't comment on The Hobbit, as that could've been nicely told in one film)

*Murder Must Advertise (1979): The radio version of what has ended up being my favourite out of Dorothy L. Sayers' seminal detective series is still sound. BBC Radio tends to be sound with its adaptations of sometimes extremely complex stories. But there are some where the book, and even the 1973 television version, trumps it. For one thing, Miss Meteyard was completely butchered, going from a spunky copyeditor to one of the secretaries, and some parts of the contrast that the book is built on between the undercover Wimsey, the employees of Pym's Publicity, and the "Bright Young Things" was sadly lost in translation. Still a descent introduction, but it feels like an incomplete package.

*Blithe Spirit (1940): I remember this being a kind of background staple of my mid-teens, as I found the writing delightfully funny. I didn't know anything about the original play's author Noel Coward, but this interpretation of his ghostly black comedy still ranks high for me. I will say the ending change feels a little unnecessary, there is some rearrangement or rewriting for the sake of the filmic presentation, and some of the American censorship it got was just idiotic (though we might be entering a new era of that sadly). But after having listen to several full performances of the play Blithe Spirit, this film holds up as a solid adaptation and a great piece of entertainment in its own right.

*Lara Croft - Tomb Raider (2001): I saw this by accident on live TV, when I knew nothing about the gaming and cultural phenomenon that was Lara Croft, and...it's okay. It's very much carried by Jolie's performance in the role and how sassy the writing is. I was bought the sequel a few years later, and while the story is much worse, the chemistry that exists between the two leads--right up to its somewhat tragic conclusion--has stuck with me for years. The games are different, especially since they changed continuity so much. Heck, I made a whole video on Croft for a reason. But I don't regret watching this. Lara Croft was my introduction to both strengths and weaknesses of female leads.

Recommendation: Future's Edge by Gareth L. Powell

 I'm not the best at keeping up with contemporary fiction, genre or otherwise. I admit it, it's a failing of mine. But if I like the premise of something, I'll generally pick it up out of curiosity. Thus it was for the paperback of Gareth L. Powell's latest sci-fi novel Future's Edge. And I'm liking what I'm reading.

This isn't going to be a review, but rather a brief recommendation from going through the early stages, which in my experience tend to set the tone for the book as a whole. It has a compelling heroine, and a tone that seems to be walking the tightrope between grim and funny. And there's a slow, measured build-up of world building (repetition, I know) that eases you into things. This doesn't feel like an overwhelming drop into the deep end. There is also a method of switching perspectives using different text styles as well as different POVs, which is handy.

When I have time, I'll enjoy reading it in full. Also, confession time, but I also have Powell's other works in Kindle form, but if there's one thing guaranteed to make a book stuck in my permanent backlogs, it's having it in Kindle form.

The copy I got was a paperback through Forbidden Planet. Technically the paperback isn't due out until the end of this month, but I got lucky. I admit, I may not read this in time for a timely review. Many others have done that already, and far more coherently than I usually can. And so...yeah. Good read, recommend.

Coming January 28: Lost Station Circé, paperback edition

 As a preface, let me say this: I stand with those in the Los Angeles area who have lost homes and livelihoods due to the terrible wildfires. I have at least one fellow author, Jendia Gammon, who lives in the area and has thankfully escaped with home and family intact. Others have not been so lucky. If you can, please do what you can to help those families.

So, this came out of nowhere, in a month with too much going on already. Wish I'd had more warning. The paperback edition of Lost Station Circé, my second novel and second in space opera series The Cluster Cycle, will be releasing on January 28, 2025. Yes, this month. Crazy. But things have in general been pretty crazy. Here below are two things. First is a full reveal of the paperback cover art, provided by my publisher. Below that is the audio sample I created, covering roughly the first third of the opening chapter.

Looking at "Status Lymphaticus"

As someone who decided to write a book in my science fiction space opera The Cluster Cycle inspired by Golden Age detective stories, it's probably safe to say that I do enjoy them. Picky I am, but I also am willing to try new things. One of the series that I drew on was the Campion novels written by Margery Allingham, one of which sent me on a small rabbit hole of research. The 1937 novel Dancers in Mourning has enigmatic detective Albert Campion investigating the harassment of west end musical star Jimmy Sutane, and later the death of faded actress Chloe Pye staying with him and other friends at his country house. The key point of her death is that while she was attacked by someone, her death was caused by "Status Lymphaticus", described as a condition which left her fatally vulnerable to stress or shocks or sudden frights.

I had never once heard of "Status Lymphaticus". There's no Wikipedia entry on it, no surprises there, and some research found only academic and medical papers. In the December 1917 paper "The Cause of Sudden Death" by Douglas Symmers M.D., the condition is described as:

...a constitutional hereditary anomaly characterized anatomically by certain external peculiarities of configuration, by hypoplasia of the cardiovascular apparatus, by hyperplasia of the thymus gland and of the lymphoid tissues in other localities, and, incidentally, by congenital structural defects in different viscera. Clinically, the condition is not infrequently terminated by sudden death on apparently trivial provocation, oftenest in children, but occasionally in adults.

This description, translated into more average language, is how Chloe Pye's cause of death is explained to Campion and others in Sutane's household. The key point is that anything could have caused her death at any moment, but someone triggered it by attacking her, then attempted to cover it up. The paper quoted above says the condition was recognised by two different doctors in New York and Vienna. This, and other acknowledgements of the condition such as Sidney Elisabeth Croskery's medical degree thesis which made reference prominent reference to it, shows it was clearly taken as medical fact at the time.

However, medical science moves on. Just as Freud's theories have become generally discounted or outright proven wrong over time, so some concepts in medical knowledge have been refined, redefined, and corrected.

Symmers appears to have been the originator of this, since he wrote another article on the condition for The American Journal of Surgery in 1934, and was also entered into The Principles and Practice of Medicine using a similar definition. Both of these would make easily-accessible sources for Allingham to reference for Dancers in Mourning. By the 1950s and 60s, the condition seems to have been in the final stages of complete debunking. Indeed in 1954, English doctor H. C. Dodwell published a three-page article in the BMJ on the condition subtitled "Growth of a Myth", in part as the refutation of another doctor's work. Dodwell cites multiple textual real-world reports between the 1870s and the 1940s, attributing the creation of "Status Lymphaticus" to a combination of selective quotation in reference books and misunderstandings/misinterpretations of findings relating to the lymphatic system. He further notes the popularity of Symmers's description, but notes a lack of detail for corroboration in the face of other medical findings, ultimately concluding that while sudden deaths did indeed happen, the attributed cause didn't exist. In reflection of recent advances in medicine and psychology, Claire Hilton, Royal College of Psychiatrists's historian in residence, described "Status Lymphaticus" in a 2019 article as having been "‘invented’ to fulfill social needs" and having "crept into the culture of the lunatic asylums."

So today, and indeed technically for as long as it was supposed to exist, "Status Lymphaticus" doesn't exist. It's an outdated medical concept intended to explain sudden and otherwise difficult to explain deaths, and according to Hilton forms one of socially constructed medical conditions.

In relation to Dancers in Mourning, there is also the legal angle to consider. My sister did studies in law earlier in her life, so we talked it over from that angle, as she had to write an essay on the laws surrounding death resulting from assault, even if death wasn't the intent. People can die from shock or fright, but typically it takes several hours. The thing about that is when she applied it to Allingham's story, holes appeared in parts outside "Status Lymphaticus" existing. In the text, Campion says that the actress's death wasn't murder, although further deaths occur as the culprit tries to cover their tracks. But in such cases legally, given the result of the assault on Chloe Pye, it would be treated as a possible murder charge. Likely leading to a manslaughter conviction, or even a murder conviction, which in the 1930s was a literal death sentence. No matter the intent, the result was Chloe Pye's untimely death.

So looking at the novel from the modern medical perspective, "Status Lymphaticus" is as outlandish as Arsenical immunisation is in Sayers' Strong Poison. Chloe Pye could have died instantly from shock or fright, but not specifically from that named condition. It would be more a combination of elements acting on a pre-existing heart weakness, such as the brain freezing up and effectively killing the heart. One of the better summations of this is the definition from the Merriam-Webster online dictionary:

hyperplasia of the lymphatic tissue formerly believed to be a cause of sudden death in infancy and childhood but now no longer recognized as a genuine pathological entity
called also lymphatism

So, is there a point to this long look at a pseudo-medical condition now debunked and refuted? Well, when one looks at the things people believe from singular powerful individuals in a field today, one can draw a parallel with Douglas Symmers and his grand diagnosis of "Status Lymphaticus". Doesn't matter how clever you are, how high up you are, how much evidence you seem to have. You can still get things wrong.