Archive for the ‘My Favorite Bit’ Category

My Favorite Bit: Tyler Hayes talks about THE IMAGINARY CORPSE

My Favorite BitTyler Hayes is joining us with his debut novel The Imaginary Corpse. Here’s the publisher’s description:

A dinosaur detective in the land of unwanted ideas battles trauma, anxiety, and the first serial killer of imaginary friends.

Most ideas fade away when we’re done with them. Some we love enough to become Real. But what about the ones we love, and walk away from?

Tippy the triceratops was once a little girl’s imaginary friend, a dinosaur detective who could help her make sense of the world. But when her father died, Tippy fell into the Stillreal, the underbelly of the Imagination, where discarded ideas go when they’re too Real to disappear. Now, he passes time doing detective work for other unwanted ideas – until Tippy runs into The Man in the Coat, a nightmare monster who can do the impossible: kill an idea permanently. Now Tippy must overcome his own trauma and solve the case, before there’s nothing left but imaginary corpses.

What’s Tyler’s favorite bit?

The Imaginary Corpse cover image


My Favorite Bit is Wrrbrr, space-knight of the Space Kingdom.

Wrrbrr, like several of the characters in The Imaginary Corpse, is an imaginary friend who was beloved by the person who created her, but rejected after said person experienced a traumatic event that would be spoileriffic to discuss here.

What makes Wrrbrr stand out for me is the age group she’s from. Unlike Detective Tippy, whose creator spent several years with him before the death of her father, or Miss Mighty, whose creator turned away from her in high school, Wrrbrr’s creator was extremely young, not even out of kindergarten. Because of that, Wrrbrr was by far the hardest character to write. I knew she needed to feel unfinished: strange, oversimplified, recognizably sentient but also operating on a logic that is entirely internal to her, just like so many things little kids have tried to explain to their parents. (Thank you, Twitter, for giving me access to so many bizarre and unsettling declarations by children!) But at the same time, she needed to feel like she was unfinished on purpose, not like I just didn’t try very hard to finish her.

Part of my answer was making her literally mutable: a morphing pink jelly, not a solid, developed body. Something a little kid could easily scrawl with one or two crayons in the corner of a coloring book. The name “Wrrbrr” jumped right out at me, something that could be pronounced but is also itself an incomplete word, the kind of nonsense syllables someone still figuring out language might utter when asked to name their creation. I picture the name being written somewhere in half-incoherent crayon that’s mostly invented letters.

When the time came to fill in the details, I went stream of consciousness. I dug back into games of Let’s Pretend and cartoons I watched pre-first grade, and just sort of doodled them all together and boiled them down without worrying too much about how much sense they made when combined. It resulted in a mix of disconnected elements: Wrrbrr’s status as a “space knight,” protecting the “Space Kingdom” (which, spoilers, has very little connection to space). Her “Star Power,” which allows her to summon up various implements of defense and destruction, and which puts her near the top of the charts in terms of most powerful characters in the Stillreal — little kids so often lack a sense of scale that of course she’s been invested with enormous power, the same way kids playfighting on the playground might just off-the-cuff declare that a character can fire a magical star cannon that can bust through their friend’s invincible force field.

Wrrbrr’s personality was the easiest part. I tried to marry “incomplete” and “young” and got “questioning.” Wrrbrr is full of uncertainty about the world around her, big and scary and unknown, but she’s also perfectly willing to admit her ignorance and ask questions without any self-consciousness, unmarred by the bullying and insults that silence too many older children. She’s also exceedingly polite, dropping “please” into her sentences seemingly at random, because that’s the kind of word that gets taught to children as something magical and important. Any word over two syllables I write her as sounding out, unless I know she’d had cause to use it a lot. And because of the trauma in her background, I made her soft-spoken, tentative in conversations with strangers.

Looking back, Wrrbrr feels as real as the rest of the cast of The Imaginary Corpse, but I am more aware of the process involved in dreaming her up because she has such a specific and hard-to-produce feel. She only plays a small (but very important) part in the book, but she looms large for me because of everything that went into those couple scenes. And that’s what makes her my favorite bit.


Imaginary Corpses Universal Book Link





Tyler Hayes is a science fiction and fantasy writer from Northern California. He writes stories he hopes will show people that not only are they not alone in this terrifying world, but we might just make things better. His fiction has appeared online in Anotherealm, Nossa Morte, and The Edge of Propinquity, and in print in anthologies from Alliteration Ink, Graveside Tales, and Aetherwatch. Tyler’s debut novel, The Imaginary Corpse, is coming from Angry Robot Books in fall 2019.

Tyler is a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, and is represented by Lisa Abellera of Kimberley Cameron and Associates.

Tyler would also love to play Sentinels of the Multiverse with you if you’re interested.

My Favorite Bit: Alexandra Rowland talks about A CHOIR OF LIES

My Favorite BitAlexandra Rowland is joining us today to talk about their novel A Choir of Lies. Here’s the publisher’s description:

A young storyteller must embrace his own skills—and the power of stories—to save a nation from economic ruin, in the standalone sequel to A Conspiracy of Truths.

Three years ago, Ylfing watched his master-Chant tear a nation apart with nothing but the words on his tongue. Now Ylfing is all alone in a new realm, brokenhearted and grieving—but a Chant in his own right, employed as a translator to a wealthy merchant of luxury goods, Sterre de Waeyer. But Ylfing has been struggling to come to terms with what his master did, with the audiences he’s been alienated from, and with the stories he can no longer trust himself to tell.

That is, until Ylfing’s employer finds out what he is, what he does, and what he knows. At Sterre’s command, Ylfing begins telling stories once more, fanning the city into a mania for a few shipments of an exotic flower. The prices skyrocket, but when disaster looms, Ylfing must face what he has done and decide who he wants to be: a man who walks away and lets the city shatter, as his master did? Or will he embrace the power of story to save ten thousand lives?

With a memorable cast of characters, starring a fan-favorite from A Conspiracy of Truths, and a timely message, Choir of Lies reminds us that the words we wield can bring destruction—or salvation.

What is Alexandra’s favorite bit?

A Choir of Lies cover image


The world kind of sucks right now. So many of us—millions of us—feel left behind by our society, our communities, even our families. We see governments prioritizing the vanity of the few and the wealthy over the basic welfare of the many and the poor. We see corporations exploiting their workers and their customers for the sake of profit.

It was with these thoughts in mind that I wrote my favorite bit of A CHOIR OF LIES, and because of spoilers I’m going to have to describe it vaguely:

There is a character. They have the opportunity to choose between supporting their community (at great personal cost) or turning away and protecting themselves and what they have already gained. It is not an easy choice. They are very, very afraid.

I was afraid too, writing that scene. I knew what choice I wanted the character to make—of course I wanted them to choose in favor of their community. But I had dreadful fantasies of people reading that scene and telling me it wasn’t realistic. After all, why would anyone choose sacrifice?

“But,” I said, stomping my feet like a child in a tantrum, “I WANT them to make the right and moral choice, even though it’s hard. I want to live in a world where more people do that. But they won’t unless someone shows them that it’s possible, and what else are stories FOR but to show us extraordinary possibility?”

We are told, in ways sometimes fear-mongering and sometimes well-meaning, to put on our own oxygen masks before helping the person next to us. In many contexts, this is a prudent and sensible way to sort out our priorities. We can take care of other people better if we have taken care of ourselves first—making sure our basic needs are met, making sure that we have the emotional and physical energy to do the work, and so on.

But sometimes we encounter a terrifying version of the Trolley Problem. You know the basic one, of course: Pick whether the trolley runs over one person tied up on Track A, or five people tied up on Track B. The logical choice is, of course, to sacrifice one life to save five. But what if you’re the one person on Track A? What do you choose then? Save your own life or save five strangers?

Fortunately, real life doesn’t work like an ethics homework problem most of the time. Being kind and helping the person next to you doesn’t usually have an impossibly-high price tag on it. The thing about kindness is that it pays for itself—if you do enough of it, eventually it starts coming back to you. As it turns out, you can save the five people on Track B, and then there’s a chance that they’ll turn around and save you too. It doesn’t have to come at a high cost to one person. Quite the opposite—sometimes it can enrich everyone.

A CHOIR OF LIES has a theme running through it of the “one little thing”—the thing you do for someone that is utterly inconsequential to you but which, to them, means the world. It is the hand offered to help them up when they’ve tripped, or a moment of love and commiseration on a day when they were sad and lonely, or the loud belly-laugh at a joke they thought no one would notice. Opportunities to make big, costly sacrifices for the greater good might come along once in a lifetime, and I guarantee you that if you ever face one, it is going to seem like an impossible choice. You might turn away. You might have to put on your own oxygen mask first. But in between all those rare, earth-shattering opportunities for choice are the hundreds and thousands of moments of the one-little-thing.

So maybe my favorite bit of this book—this character’s moment of uncertainty, teetering on the cusp of possibility—is unrealistic. Maybe no one in real life is good or strong enough to face the Trolley Problem when they’re the one on the tracks.

But… if it’s unrealistic, I’m okay with it. Kindness doesn’t always come easily or naturally to me. It’s something that I have to work at, an active choice that I have to make when the prospect of being catty or dismissive or mean is sitting right in front of me like a big slice of chocolate cake. But with every story I hear of someone doing a great act of kindness, and every time I see someone holding firm to their honor and goodness because it matters more to them than their stupid pride, it gets a little easier for me to do the same. Witnessing the extraordinary, even in fiction, brings the ordinary into much easier reach. That’s what I tried to do with my favorite bit of CHOIR OF LIES. That scene was as much to save my own soul as it was for any other purpose. I needed it. Maybe you need it too.


A Choir of Lies Universal Book Link

A Choir of Lies fanfic tags




Alexandra Rowland grew up on a sailboat in the Bahamas and then in a house in Florida. Sick to death of the tropics, they attended Truman State University in northern Missouri, where they studied world literature, mythology, and folklore. They now live in western Massachusetts where they work as an (occasional) bespoke seamstress and writer under the stern supervision of their feline quality control manager. They can be found on Twitter as @_alexrowland.

They are represented by Britt Siess of Martin Literary Management.

My Favorite Bit: Wendy Trimboli and Alicia Zaloga talk about THE RESURRECTIONIST OF CALIGO

My Favorite BitWendy Trimboli and Alicia Zaloga are joining us to talk about their novel The Resurrectionist of Caligo. Here’s the publisher’s description:

With a murderer on the loose, it’s up to an enlightened bodysnatcher and a rebellious princess to save the city, in this wonderfully inventive Victorian-tinged fantasy noir.

“Man of Science” Roger Weathersby scrapes out a risky living digging up corpses for medical schools. When he’s framed for the murder of one of his cadavers, he’s forced to trust in the superstitions he’s always rejected: his former friend, princess Sibylla, offers to commute Roger’s execution in a blood magic ritual which will bind him to her forever. With little choice, he finds himself indentured to Sibylla and propelled into an investigation. There’s a murderer loose in the city of Caligo, and the duo must navigate science and sorcery, palace intrigue and dank boneyards to catch the butcher before the killings tear their whole country apart.

What is Alicia’s favorite bit?

The Resurrectionist of Caligo cover image


As coauthors of a book, it’s difficult to pinpoint the utmost favorite bit. Wendy’s favorite bit is not necessarily my favorite bit and vice versa. However, during the whirlwind creation phase of throwing everything and anything into The Resurrectionist of Caligo and then some, there is one scene that sticks out as magic—a synergistic place in book time when two authors, with two competing headspaces, had to deal with the natural fall out of a slow burn relationship between our two main characters taking place on a stairwell.

At the start of our novel, Sibylla the Wayward Princess and Roger the Vagabond Resurrectionist have already had their youthful love affair, and to say it did not end well would be an understatement. Many books begin with two characters and their fated meeting with one another. We wanted to begin ours with two characters who’d already been through the relationship cycle—cute childhood meeting, kissing beneath the boughs in adolescence, and inevitable painful teenage breakup. Feelings one has for an ex are complicated. Between Roger and Sibylla, there are two broken hearts (one of which has mostly moved on) made worse by differing worldviews, past misunderstandings, and a murder or three. There’s pining and anger and the crossover of both these emotions. Now as adults, they want to see one another again, but there’s also a desire to give the other person a dressing down while they’re at it.

The fruition of this thorny emotional landscape between former friends turned paramours turned exes takes place in a dark and dingy—one of the two might even say rancid—stairwell that leads to the garret where Roger resides above the butcher’s shop, barely scraping together his back rent. Their meeting is a long time coming. It became a favorite because of the variety of logistical and emotional complexities inherent to the scene, including an interested onlooker, the tiredness that comes from the end of a long workday, and all the past and present fuzzy and not-so-fuzzy emotions they have for one another.

I should probably explain here that our writing process is sometimes incredibly, ridiculously, collaborative. On occasion, sentences can be minutely examined, rewritten (and rewritten and rewritten), and comments given until the narration becomes a torn apart and glued, sewed, and duct taped back together again monster of collective thought and choice. A sample sentence might read: Three words Wendy wrote followed by two words I wrote, another Wendy verb, and finally four words I chose before that punctuating period. Despite this process, the one thing we agreed on in the revision partnership stage was that we had to respect the other person’s final say on whether or not our main characters would, or would not, say or do something.

That’s why a scene, such as that which takes place in the stairwell of the building where Roger lives, is so impactful, not only for the characters but for us as co-creators. While I’m “the” Sibylla authority, Wendy is “the” Roger authority. When our main characters share the page, so too do we authors. This one little scene went in a direction neither of us had originally intended.

In the very original draft, it ended rather comically with Sibylla saying something to the effect of, “I’ve got things to do, ta-ta.” Of course, this was never going to be enough, but at the time neither of us had fully discovered the emotional weight of this encounter. When we finally did, it became, in many ways, a scene of personal declarations for our main characters, one that explored how their respective pasts and presents collided to terrific and horrible result. Sibylla ended up saying a bit more than “ta-ta” and so did Roger. No matter how many drafts, no matter how many nuances were added or changes to the story made, the stairwell scene always remained this crystallized moment between Roger and Sibylla, and by extension between us as their creators.

It may only encompass a few pages of the whole book, but it is representative of that time our characters provoked one another into saying and doing things they never would have said or done had we not been co-authors. For Wendy and me, it was the perfect example of what we could accomplish when we allowed each other the freedom to express our characters on the page, and I can’t think of a better favorite bit to act as our creative beacon.


The Resurrectionist of Caligo Universal Book Link

Wendy and Alicia’s website

Alicia’s Instagram

Alicia’s Twitter

Wendy’s Twitter


ALICIA ZALOGA grew up in Virginia Beach not liking the beach, and now moves every few years, sometimes to places near beaches. She has a writing degree from Columbia College Chicago, and when she’s not dealing with life’s chores, she collects hobbies: plucking the E string on the bass, producing an alarming number of artistic doodles, and French beading floral bouquets

WENDY TRIMBOLI grew up in England, Germany and the United States, and learned to speak two languages well enough that most people can understand her. Determined to ignore her preference for liberal arts, she attended the US Air Force Academy then worked as an intelligence officer, which was less exciting than it sounds. These days she has a creative writing MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts, and lives in Colorado with her family, border collie, and far too many books.


My Favorite Bit: Grant Price talks about BY THE FEET OF MEN

My Favorite BitGrant Price is joining us to talk about his novel By the Feet of Men. Here’s the publisher’s description:

WANTED: Men and women willing to drive through the valley of the shadow of death.

The world’s population has been decimated by the Change, a chain reaction of events triggered by global warming. In Europe, governments have fallen, cities have crumbled and the wheels of production have ground to a halt. The Alps region, containing most of the continent’s remaining fresh water, has become a closed state with heavily fortified borders. Survivors cling on by trading through the Runners, truck drivers who deliver cargo and take a percentage.

Amid the ruins of central Germany, two Runners, Cassady and Ghazi, are called on to deliver medical supplies to a research base deep in the Italian desert, where scientists claim to be building a machine that could reverse the effects of the Change. Joining the pair are a ragtag collection of drivers, all of whom have something to prove. Standing in their way are starving nomads, crumbling cities, hostile weather and a rogue state hell-bent on the convoy’s destruction. And there’s another problem: Cassady is close to losing his nerve.

What’s Grant’s favorite bit?

BY THE FEET OF MEN cover image


Flashbacks are a risky tool to use in any novel, let alone one as relentlessly linear as By the Feet of Men. I generally see it as cheating: they’re a way to flesh out a character or build a world without doing the heavy lifting in the narrative in which we’re spending the majority of our time. The worst are the ones involving a ham-fisted segue: “The radio. Green Bakelite, just like the one she had in her box room near the Champs-Élysées. So many years ago now…”. After that, we’re treated to an entire chapter about a girl with a green Bakelite radio who won’t appear in the novel again, all so we can learn the protagonist is a hopeless romantic. Not especially efficient, and a test of patience for the reader.

Recently, I struggled through The Night Manager by John Le Carré, the first few chapters of which are spent introducing the undersexed protagonist, Jonathan Pine. Instead of learning who he is in the present, though, the reader is treated to flashback after flashback of Pine’s time in Cairo and a certain *no spoilers* incident that establishes a shaky motive for him to go gallivanting around the Caribbean in pursuit of a shady businessmen. Now, as everybody loves Le Carré and he’s light-years ahead of me in terms of ability, this is both sacrilegious and cheeky, but I couldn’t help viewing his use of flashbacks in the novel as lazy. The first third of a book should be reserved for setting the scene, building the world, establishing subtext, developing the characters, making them consistent, and encouraging the reader to love, tolerate or despise them. By contrast, the flashbacks in The Night Manager tell us immediately who Pine is and exactly who we can expect him to be over the next 400-odd pages. No reveal, no build-up, no effort to earn the reader’s affection.

All this to say that when I wrote my own barely-three-page flashback chapter, I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing. As I said, By the Feet of Men is nothing if not linear. A to B, start to finish, no side quests or tangents or baggage to slow things down. I wanted it to be high octane like Neuromancer or The Death of Grass, flying from devastated location to devastated location, fresh horror to fresh horror, a dystopian road novel right down to the book binding. Even so, at the point in the story where the flashback appears, I felt like everybody needed a breather—me, the reader and the characters. After all, ecological collapse takes its toll on everyone. And seeing as I’d already had the drivers of the convoy sit around in drosscapes and dust bowls waxing lyrical about how nature had finally turned its back on humanity, I needed something different. Like, for example, the bleakest flashback I could think of.

Without getting into specifics, my flashback fills in a bit of backstory, in this case about how the ‘Change’ instigated widespread civil unrest, mass migration, lawlessness and a breakdown of basic human values, leading people to do despicable things to one another in the name of survival. So far, so standard. But here’s the twist (if you can call it that): it’s written from the perspective of a character who is already dead. Their story is being remembered by another driver in a moment of monotony out on the road, just as we might find ourselves thinking of something a loved one told us before they passed away. What I like about the flashback’s appearance at this point in the narrative is that we’ve already learned—over the course of half the book—who that character was and what they represented. We formed a bond with them and we felt something when they perished. Afterwards, we think that’s it. The character is gone, the narrative pushes on and the sense of loss starts to fade into the background. My idea, though, was to use the flashback as a kind of aftershock of misery. Just as we have readied ourselves to move on, that sense of loss is sprung on us again and the wound is forced open once more.

How often do we experience a traumatic event and then squirrel it away in the back of our mind, never to be touched again? Rarely-to-never, would be my guess. We can be reminded of it at any time. The most banal sight, sound or smell can trigger a fresh wave of emotion that overwhelms us before we have the chance to get a grip on it. It’s something we can never truly prepare for. I wanted to capture that feeling through the flashback and, in doing so, bring the reader closer to the surviving drivers and hopefully make the world they inhabit slightly more real.

As far as actual readers’ responses to the flashback is concerned, the jury is still out. One reviewer told me that it doesn’t work at all and that the editor should have wielded her red pen like a rapier and slashed it to ribbons. Fair enough. But another said the flashback resonated with them, all the more so because of how unexpected it was. I appreciate both responses. Whether it works or not, it’s something that—for me, at least—is a little different and takes a bit of a risk. It allowed me, just for a moment, to step away from the convoy as it races into the heart of darkness and view the story from a new angle. At the same time, it maintains enough of a link between ‘past’ and ‘present’ to land an emotional sucker punch.

By the Feet of Men Universal Book Link




In social situations, Grant Price introduces himself as “Grant, like Hugh Grant, only it’s my first name”. As well as writing novels and short stories, he is a translator of German and Dutch and does the kind of copywriting that Bill Hicks would have hated him for. By the Feet of Men is his first published novel.

My Favorite Bit: Marie Brennan talks about TURNING DARKNESS INTO LIGHT

My Favorite BitMarie Brennan is joining us today to talk about her novel Turning Darkness Into Light. Here’s the publishers description:

Marie Brennan’s Turning Darkness Into Light is a delightful fantasy of manners, the heir to the award-winning Natural History of Dragons series, a perfect stepping stone into an alternate Victorian-esque fantasy landscape.

As the renowned granddaughter of Isabella Camherst (Lady Trent, of the riveting and daring Draconic adventure memoirs) Audrey Camherst has always known she, too, would want to make her scholarly mark upon a chosen field of study.

When Lord Gleinheigh recruits Audrey to decipher a series of ancient tablets holding the secrets of the ancient Draconean civilization, she has no idea that her research will plunge her into an intricate conspiracy, one meant to incite rebellion and invoke war. Alongside dearest childhood friend and fellow archeologist Kudshayn, Audrey must find proof of the conspiracy before it’s too late.

What’s Marie’s favorite bit?

Turning Darkness into light cover image


My favorite bit of this novel is a character I don’t like very much.

Which is a reminder to me that a likeable character and an interesting character are not the same thing. I forget that sometimes — because as a reader, I tend to check out of stories where I don’t like the main characters, even if I know the author intended it to be that way. I almost always need somebody whose company I enjoy; hanging out with a bunch of bastards is not my idea of a good time.

This guy is kind of a bastard . . . but when he walked onstage in this novel, utterly without me having planned for him, he brought a whole new dimension of the story to life. I knew, going into Turning Darkness Into Light, that the main character Audrey would be struggling in a lot of ways to establish herself in her chosen field, the study of the ancient Draconean language. She’s smart, but also young; she’s done some meaningful work, but she’s the granddaughter of Lady Trent, whose exploits were the subject of my previous five novels. Her grandfather, father, and mother are all well-respected scholars of one sort or another, and so I knew Audrey would be wrestling with the weight of her family’s reputation and the general public’s expectation that she ought to have done something amazing already.

But that’s mostly an internal thing. Which is why, partway into drafting the novel, I thought to myself, Audrey needs a rival. Lady Trent never really had one; apart from a short-story length spat with somebody who barely deserved the name of “scholar,” her challenges were of a different sort. So okay, I would give Audrey a rival.

Hard on the heels of that came a second thought: Audrey should have a romantic history with that rival.

Enter Aaron Mornett.

Some characters get built. Others spring fully-formed out of my imagination like Athena from the head of Zeus. The moment he appeared, Mornett was handsome, brilliant, hailed for his achievements from a young age . . . and, in the most scathing condemnation Lady Trent is capable of delivering, not a reputable scholar. He’s Belloq to Audrey’s Indiana Jones.

Their romance is a thing of the past; it shows up in one of the novel’s three flashbacks. But oh, has it left its mark. Audrey has incredibly complicated feelings toward Mornett: respect for his intelligence, disgust for the ends to which he puts it, regret over his wasted potential, fury over what he did to her. She’s not over him, though she tries to pretend she is. She spends quite a bit of time and energy on trying to figure out what he’s up to — with regards to both the plot and herself personally.

We have so many stories that either focus on a romantic relationship or work one in alongside the rest of the plot. But we have relatively few about this kind of thing: a romance that failed, and the process of dealing with its aftermath (where “dealing” doesn’t mean “finding Mr. Right and being happy with him instead”). The ambiguity of it was fascinating to explore, and took the story in directions I had not planned for at all when I set out.

And in the end . . . I empathize with Aaron Mornett. That’s not the same thing as sympathizing; while I see where he’s coming from, ultimately I want to smack him for it. But I can understand why Audrey fell for him, and why it’s so hard for her to come to terms with having fallen out with him. I want to write the AU fanfic where things went differently.

Which is why he’s my favorite bit. He hooked my emotions from a completely unexpected angle, and brought fascinating kinds of tension to some of the novel’s key scenes — all without me having planned for him at all.


Turning Darkness Into Light Universal Book Link





Marie Brennan is a former anthropologist and folklorist who shamelessly pillages her academic fields for material. She recently misapplied her professors’ hard work to Turning Darkness Into Light, a sequel to the Hugo Award-nominated Victorian adventure series The Memoirs of Lady Trent. She is the author of the Doppelganger duology of Warrior and Witch, the urban fantasies Lies and Prophecy and Chains and Memory, the Onyx Court historical fantasy series, the Varekai novellas, and nearly sixty short stories, as well as the New Worlds series of worldbuilding guides.

My Favorite Bit: Keren Landsman talks about THE HEART OF THE CIRCLE

My Favorite BitKeren Landsman is joining us today to talk about her novel The Heart of the Circle. Here is the publisher’s description:

Sorcerers fight for the right to exist and fall in love, in this extraordinary alternate world fantasy thriller by award-winning Israeli author Keren Landsman.

Throughout human history there have always been sorcerers, once idolized and now exploited for their powers. In Israel, the Sons of Simeon, a group of religious extremists, persecute sorcerers while the government turns a blind eye. After a march for equal rights ends in brutal murder, empath, moodifier and reluctant waiter Reed becomes the next target. While his sorcerous and normie friends seek out his future killers, Reed complicates everything by falling hopelessly in love. As the battle for survival grows ever more personal, can Reed protect himself and his friends as the Sons of Simeon close in around them?

What’s Keren’s favorite bit?

The Heart of the Circle cover image


Choosing my favorite bit from THE HEART OF THE CIRCLE feels a little like choosing my favorite child. Of course I love all of you! It’s just that the thing that jumps to my mind when asked is not the sorcerers fights, the romance or the powers but the relationships. Specifically, the relationships between Reed and his family.

It’s quite common to give the hero a terrible family. A distant father, a neglecting mother, an obnoxious brother, and when the hero has a normal family, someone has to die. It’s usually done to give a motive for the hero. Without the dead parents, Stark would have never gone into the avenging business, Harry Potter would never have become the center of attention, Elsa would never have run away and discovered her true powers, and don’t even get me started about Superman whose entire planet had to be destroyed in order to give him his life’s mission.

I have a great family, and It’s hard for me to find myself in those books. Most of my friends have a somewhat functioning family. Just a normal, living, loving family with frictions sometimes, where anger is another expression to love, and caring sometimes manifests as prying.

I used my mother to model Reed’s mom: over-protectiive even though her son left home ten years earlier, pouring her worries into cooking and trying really really hard to respect his privacy whilst failing miserably. I might have also used some of my experiences as a mother to create her. Specifically, the first time my son brought his “not girlfriend” home and I had to keep my mouth shut even though I had SO MANY QUESTIONS!

Reed’s brother is based more on my kids’ relationships than my own. They are extremely close, closed than I was to my brother and sister at their age, and they care so much for one another. I know they fight, but whenever I’m mad at one of them they cover for each other and sometimes even provide fake alibis for each other. I love that about them and I tried to catch that feeling when I wrote Reed and Mathew.

The last part of Reed’s family is, of course, the non-genetic one. From Daphne, his best friend and roommate, to Aurora, who is the reason for his volunteering, his non-genetic family is freely based on mine. You can find their real names in the acknowledgement part of the book. Just imagine many sparkling hearts floating over the words.


The Heart of the Circle Universal Book Link




KEREN LANDSMAN is a mother, a writer, a medical doctor who specializes in Epidemiology and Public health, and a blogger. She is one of the founders of Mida’at, an NGO dedicated to promoting public health in Israel. She works in the Levinski clinic in Tel Aviv. She has won the Geffen Award three times, most recently for the short story collection Broken Skies.

My Favorite Bit: Reese Hogan talks about SHROUDED LOYALTIES

Favorite Bit iconReese Hogan is joining us today to talk about her novel Shrouded Loyalties. Here’s the publisher’s description:

A soldier returns home with a dangerous secret from an alternate realm, unaware that she is surrounded by spies and collaborators, in this intense military science fiction novel.

Naval officer Mila Blackwood is determined to keep her country’s most powerful secret – shrouding, the ability to traverse their planet in seconds through an alternate realm – out of enemy hands. But spies are everywhere: her submarine has been infiltrated by a Dhavnak agent, and her teenage brother has been seduced by an enemy soldier. When Blackwood’s submarine is attacked by a monster, she and fellow sailor, Holland, are marked with special abilities, whose manifestations could end the war – but in whose favor? Forced to submit to military scientists in her paranoid and war-torn home, Blackwood soon learns that the only people she can trust might also be the enemy.

What’s Reese’s favorite bit?

Shrouded Loyalties cover image


The very first line of my biography reads, “Reese Hogan loves nothing more than creating broken relationships in broken worlds.” No matter how many explosions or monsters or worldbuilding thrills I put in my books, it’s the massively screwed-up relationships that I really thrive on. That’s why my favorite bit in Shrouded Loyalties was giving points of view to three very different protagonists who not only didn’t get along, but were actively working against one another during wartime.

This is a distinctly different process than writing from the point of view of a villain. We’ve all read those books—the ones with antagonists who are so well-rounded that we know exactly why they’re doing their evil deeds. Maybe we even sympathize with them. But it’s not often that we root for them. It’s not normal for us to prefer the villain’s point of view, or for them to actively cross the line into becoming our favorite character.

There are exceptions. Of course there are exceptions. But the key word here is protagonist, usually defined as the leading character or point of view in a literary work. No matter how well-rounded that villain is, you’re not likely to walk away confused about who should have triumphed. However, when the antagonist of your novel is not only a point of view, but a protagonist with their own antagonist and involved character arc, suddenly it’s not so easy anymore.

You won’t see these intricate pairings written as a hero and a complex villain. That would be too simple. You’ll see them in the flawed relationships of intimate acquaintances. College roommates Victor and Eli in Vicious. Tamas and his son Taniel in A Promise of Blood. Siblings Mokoya and Akeha in The Black Tides of Heaven. They oftentimes both have fully developed points of view, and in many cases, you can’t definitively say one or the other is the villain – but there is no question that they are antagonists actively working against each other’s agendas.

I approach this by coming up with the most broken relationships I can think of, then writing both sides. I wasn’t just interested in why Blackwood needed so badly to keep her secrets safe; I wanted to know that the spy taking those secrets had just as much at stake for completely different reasons. I wanted the success of one character to be the dismal downfall of the other, and I wanted either of those failures to bite equally deeply to the reader. I wanted to show why Blackwood’s relationship with her brother was so difficult, and for the reader to see how impossible it was to fix from either end. It’s these places in relationships – these all too-human judgments we pass, these assumptions we make, these conclusions we jump to, and these wedges that our lack of communication drives between us – that I’m most interested in exploring. You don’t need some distant planet or fancy magic system to know what I’m talking about. Whether a story leaves you satisfied by the time you read the last word depends more on what those characters went through with each other and where they ended up than on how big the explosion was at the end. And I should know. I have yet to write a book without a big explosion at the end.

Broken relationships filled with betrayal, guilt, resentment, and lies are not just part of Shrouded Loyalties; they are the framework that built the book. So which of my three points of view are protagonists and which are antagonists? Well, when my first three readers each chose a different character as their favorite, I knew that was as easy to answer as it is in real life. They are all protagonists. And they are all antagonists. Just like the rest of us.


Shrouded Loyalties Universal Book Link




My Favorite Bit: Susan Forest talks about BURSTS OF FIRE

My Favorite BitSusan Forest is joining us today to talk about her novel Bursts of Fire. Here’s the publisher’s description:

Bursts of Fire begins an epic political fantasy of revenge, addictions, and redemption. In an empire where magic has become suspect, love and loyalty–for one’s lover, one’s family, one’s country–are tested. If Heaven desires the very earth be burned, what place can those below hope for, when the flames come for them?

The Falkyn sisters bear a burden and a legacy. Their mother, the imperial magiel of the kingdom of Orumon, protects her people from the horrors of the afterlife by calling upon the Gods with a precious Prayer Stone. But war among the kingdoms has brought fire and destruction to their sheltered world. When a mad king’s desire to destroy the Prayer Stones shatters their family, the three girls are scattered to the wilderness, relying on their wits and powers they don’t yet master.

Assassin. Battle tactician. Magic wielder. Driven by different ambitions, Meg, Janat, and Rennika are destined to become all these and more. To reclaim their birth right, they must overcome doubtful loyalties within a rising rebellion; more, they must challenge a dogma-driven chancellor’s influence on the prince raised to inherit his father’s war: a prince struggling to unravel the mystery of his brother’s addiction to Heaven.

To survive. To fight. To restore balance.

What’s Susan’s favorite bit?

Bursts of Fire cover image


One of many impetuses I had for creating the world of Shangril came from my roots growing up in the Rocky Mountains of Western Canada. I was only a city kid by geography; on weekends, my father took my sisters, my brother, and me trekking through forests and across scree slopes and glaciers, tenting or staying in back country huts (I even slept in an ice cave), watching long summer twilights from high alpine meadows, or taking a midnight ski by moonlight.

My dad, though an engineer by profession, was at heart a mountain man. He grew up fishing, tramping the woods of northern Saskatchewan, and hunting partridge for dinner, on his family’s farm during the Depression. So, years later, when my older sister brought home a permission slip from school to join the Alpine Club of Canada, mountaineering was a natural outgrowth of his passions. He found his true love: before he died at the age of eighty-three, my father had become the first person to scale all the peaks in the Canadian Rockies over 11,000 feet (53 peaks), and the oldest person to climb Canada’s highest mountain, Mt. Logan. But more than an explorer, my father was a family man who included his kids on his adventures. It meant everything to him to pass on the legacy of outdoor survival and backwoods camaraderie to his children.

And so it was that my siblings and I spent a great deal of time absorbing the skills of outdoor living and developing a love of the wilds.

But the interrelationships of sisterhood are complex and deeply rooted (my brother moved north in his twenties). My older sister was a strong, self-assured woman who didn’t necessarily have time for her younger siblings. She began duck hunting at an early age and skiing with members of the National Ski Team in her teens (and was, therefore, an excellent downhill skier in her own right). In her twenties, she became the first female National Park Warden in Canada. She was on the first all-women’s team to attempt Mt. Logan.

My younger sister, always one to work her heart out to keep up to the rest of us, was a cross-country skier, climber, chainsaw wielder, and horsewoman. She also became a National Park Warden (Rescue Specialist), and she was one of only a handful of women in Canada to earn her full Mountain Guide’s License. Today she is a heli-ski guide, mountain guide, and horse outfitter. Five-foot-two and a hundred and ten pounds, and my best friend.

There were times, growing up, when we did a variety of outdoor activities together, but because of the age spread, my older sister had moved on to activities with her friends before I took up climbing and skiing, and my younger sister was riding in a backpack or getting towed on her skis behind my dad. So, some of our shared experiences took the form of conversations around the dinner table, and the recounting of close encounters (but nothing that would worry my mom) or funny situations. Today we do still hike, ski, and ride horses together, but often just two of us at a time.

Nevertheless, the experiences I have had pursuing outdoor sports have given me a wonderful launch point for writing fantasy adventure. In a still-unpublished work, I’ve written scenes taking place in a cave that draw on my experience being in the third or fourth party to explore Rats Nest Cave on Goat Mountain. Early in Bursts of Fire, the three sisters are caught out on a mountain above tree line, and must negotiate its scree and fragmented rock ribs, in the cold of late September. I know what the wind on mountain tops is like; what it’s like to down-climb cliff bands to safety; what it’s like to tramp endlessly through trackless woods, not quite certain of the path. I’ve chopped wood, drawn water from a rushing river, washed my dishes with moss in an icy stream. The primitive stone and log huts in the series are modeled on places I’ve stayed.

An example of capturing the essence of harsh mountain weather is illustrated in these few lines:

She lifted thin arms to the wind, pitilessly small beneath the swirling gray sky. “We’ve done everything…everything you demanded…”

Rennika’s grief turned to lead in her limbs.

The wind rushed over them, drenching them with rain, speared their faces with icy needles, its endless lonely breath in their ears.

So, yes. Writing fantasy adventure in Bursts of Fire takes me back—at least in my mind—to the places I’ve been, the people I’ve known, the sensations I’ve felt. And that is definitely my favorite bit.


Bursts of Fire Universal Book Link

Read an Excerpt

Book Website

Author Website



Susan Forest grew up in a family of mountaineers and skiers, and she loves adventure. She also loves the big ideas found in SF/F, and finds fast-paced adventure stories a great place to explore how individuals grapple with complex moral decisions. Bursts of Fire, first book in her Addicted to Heaven series (to be followed by Flights of Marigolds in 2020), confronts issues of addiction in an epic fantasy world of intrigue and betrayal. Susan is also an award-winning fiction editor, has published over 25 short stories (Analog, Asimov’s, BCS, & more), and has appeared at many international writing conventions. She loves travel and has been known to dictate novels from the back of her husband’s motorcycle.

My Favorite Bit: Spencer Ellsworth talks about THE GREAT FAERIE STRIKE

My Favorite BitSpencer Ellsworth is joining us today to talk about his novel The Great Faerie Strike. Here’s the publisher’s description:

A revolution in Faerie!

Ridley Enterprises has brought industry to the Otherworld, churning out magical goods for profit. But when they fire Charles the gnome, well, they’ve gone too far. And against a gnome’s respectable nature, he takes to the streets, fighting for workers’ rights.

The Otherworld’s first investigative reporter, Jane, is looking for a story. And she finds it, witnessing a murder and getting sucked into a conspiracy within werewolf high society.

Jane and Charles team up to unite the workers and bring the Ridleys to justice. But a budding romance complicates everything. Can they bring change to Faerie or will dark powers consume both worlds?

What’s Spencer’s favorite bit?

The Great Faerie Strike cover image


Whenever I am asked for “my favorite bit” in a book, I feel a little bit like a parent asked to pick their favorite child.

I love all of them, even the weird ones who test my patience!

But, with apologies to the weird ones, in The Great Faerie Strike, I immediately knew what my favorite part was. It was built into the book’s conception from the beginning—the main character Charles, a cantankerous and hotheaded gnome, laid off from his factory job, would have to find the inspiration to start a strike.

Charles is unusual for a gnome already. They’re typically known for steadiness, reliability, and a tendency to go along with authority and never be the nail that sticks up.

Charles has been trying to reform his unreliable ways, despite the layoffs. He… doesn’t do so well. He gets laid off again, this time from a butler job. He then gets in a fight and gets himself captured by vampires and thrown in a larder, waiting to be eaten.

Our heroine, Jane, an investigative reporter, is determined to save Charles from the vampires, since he has a lead on her best story. While he’s in there, she gives him a random pamphlet to read, something that she grabbed because it looked interesting.

That pamphlet is The Communist Manifesto.

I’ve never more had more fun as a writer than this: taking a hotheaded, stodgy little gnome and turning him into a revolutionary. Charles immediately sees how Marx’s philosophy applies to the Otherworld, and starts babbling on about Marx like an excited college sophomore, and determines to bring the bourgeoisie down.

I squeed with joy, just a little, as I wrote that bit. I love it when a character really, really, REALLY believes in something, especially when it puts them in conflict with their world, family and friends. And I may have been a bit like Charles myself, in college… and a bit like him still. In that way, he’s always been my favorite bit.


The Great Faerie Strike Universal Book Link




Spencer Ellsworth has been writing since he learned how. He is the author of The Great Faerie Strike, out in August 2019 from Broken Eye Books, and the Starfire Trilogy of space opera novels from Tor. He lives in Bellingham, WA, with his wife and three children, writes, edits and works at a small tribal college, and would really like a war mammoth if you’ve got one lying around.

My Favorite Bit: Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone talk about THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR

Favorite Bit iconAmal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone are joining us today to talk about their novella This Is How You Lose the Time War. Here’s the publisher’s description:

Two time-traveling agents from warring futures, working their way through the past, begin to exchange letters—and fall in love in this thrilling and romantic book from award-winning authors Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone.

Among the ashes of a dying world, an agent of the Commandant finds a letter. It reads: Burn before reading. 

Thus begins an unlikely correspondence between two rival agents hellbent on securing the best possible future for their warring factions. Now, what began as a taunt, a battlefield boast, grows into something more. Something epic. Something romantic. Something that could change the past and the future.

Except the discovery of their bond would mean death for each of them. There’s still a war going on, after all. And someone has to win that war. That’s how war works. Right?

Cowritten by two beloved and award-winning sci-fi writers, This Is How You Lose the Time War is an epic love story spanning time and space.

What are Amal and Max’s favorite part?

This is how you lose the time war cover image


Dearest Max,

My favourite bit of this novella—besides remembering its creation, the moments where our eyes met in mingled shock and grief at what we were doing to these characters, and how well we were doing it—is the point of no return.

This actually happens multiple times. One would think a time travel story to be built of infinite points of return, the ability to cross strands of time like lines of Regency letters—but in such a story, the points of divergence, of commitment, of irreversible impact are the ones that stay with me the most, and that I most enjoyed writing.

I’ll single out three from my own writing, because to attempt to single out favourites of yours is literally just to unspool the story from start to finish. I shall describe them as cards in a tarot spread, in order not to spoil anything for readers still discovering the book, confident that you’ll recognize them instantly.

Here they are: the wolf; the bee; the berried thorn.

Those are my favourite bits.

What are yours?



PS: if divinatory obfuscation isn’t to your taste, please, do not feel limited by my choices! “Apophenic as a haruspex” is, after all, one of my many favourite bits of yours!


Dearest Amal,

I love that you single out points of no return. Before I received your letter I’d planned my sole contribution to be your line, in Blue’s voice: “Tell me something true, or tell me nothing at all.” For me, our early draft up until that point had been an exuberance of play—dancing from strand to strand, enjoying the taunts and the grand concepts and above all else the speed our format permitted. But that letter of Blue’s, and that line in specific, shook me. And I think they shook Red, too. Somewhere a submarine commander shouted out: Dive, dive!

And we dove.

It came at just the right moment. We’d described a world, and I think that left to my own normal gears I would have settled myself down to particulars and complications. But we had to go deeper, out of safe and sunlit waters.

Did you know there’s a depth in the ocean beyond which the pressure will squeeze a human body until it becomes denser than the surrounding water? Past that point, you won’t float back toward the surface. You’ll fall, endlessly, to the ocean floor.

A terrifying, exhilarating thought—the moment when the pressure of character becomes destiny. But who knows what you find at the bottom?

As for favorite bits of my own writing, to match yours, I’ll stay just as e/allusive: Atlantis, surely. Do you smile, ice? And, perhaps: a simple wax seal.




This Is How You Lose the Time War Universal Book Link

Max’s Website

Amal’s Website

Max’s Twitter

Amal’s Twitter



Amal El-Mohtar is an award-winning author, academic, and critic. Her short story “Seasons of Glass and Iron” won a Hugo, Nebula, and Locus award and was a finalist for the World Fantasy, Sturgeon, Aurora, and Eugie Awards in the same year. She is the author of The Honey Month, a collection of poetry and prose written to the taste of twenty-eight different kinds of honey, and is the science fiction and fantasy columnist for the New York Times Book Review. Her fiction has appeared on and in magazines such as Lightspeed, Strange Horizons, Fireside Magazine, and the Rubin Museum of Art’s Spiral, as well as in anthologies such as The Djinn Falls in Love and Other Stories and The Starlit Wood: New Fairy Tales. She is pursuing a PhD at Carleton University and teaches creative writing at the University of Ottawa. Visit her at

Max Gladstone has been thrown from a horse in Mongolia and nominated for the Hugo, John W Campbell, and Lambda Awards. A narrative designer, writer, and consultant, Max is the author of the Hugo-nominated Craft Sequence (starting with THREE PARTS DEAD and most recently continuing with RUIN OF ANGELS). His short fiction has appeared on and in Uncanny Magazine. He has written games, comics, and interactive television, and is the lead writer of the fantasy procedural series BOOKBURNERS. Max’s most recent projects are the intergalactic adventure EMPRESS OF FOREVER, and, with Amal El-Mohtar, the time travel epistolary spy-vs-spy novella THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR.

My Favorite Bit: Michi Trota talks about Uncanny Magazine Year Six

My Favorite BitMichi Trota is joining us today to talk about Uncanny Magazine’s Year Six, which currently has a Kickstarter running until August 14. Here’s information about the Kickstarter:

Over the last few years, Lynne M. Thomas & Michael Damian Thomas ran Kickstarters for the three-time Hugo Award-winning Uncanny Magazine Years One, Two, Three, Four, and Five. We promised to bring you stunning cover art, passionate science fiction and fantasy fiction and poetry, gorgeous prose, and provocative nonfiction by writers from every conceivable background. Not to mention a fantastic award-winning podcast featuring exclusive content. Through the hard work of our exceptional staff and contributors, Uncanny Magazine delivered on that promise every single year. Stories from Uncanny Magazine have been finalists or winners of Hugo, Nebula, Locus, and World Fantasy Awards!

The Space Unicorn Ranger Corps, our name for the Uncanny Magazine community, made it possible for our remarkable staff and contributors to create this wonderful art for all of our readers via the web or as eBooks. THANK YOU, SPACE UNICORNS FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

If you’ve been looking for an opportunity to join or re-up with the Space Unicorn Ranger Corps, now’s your chance! We need your help to continue this mission for another year. This is your magazine, Space Unicorns! Let’s make Year Six happen!

This year, we’re also back with a new mission for the ranger corps: RAISING OUR PAY RATES! We’ve been running Uncanny Magazine for five years with basically the exact same pay rates for all of our creators and staff. We think it’s time to pay all of these fabulous people a little bit more for their amazing creations.

Though Uncanny continues to have multiple ways to support us, we still need the help of the Space Unicorn Kickstarter community to keep bringing you this amazing content. YOUR support specifically makes it possible for us to make our fiction freely available on our website.

We have put together a fabulous lineup of solicited contributors for Year Six for short fiction, nonfiction, and poetry! There will also be slots for unsolicited submissions (we will reopen for short fiction submissions on August 1, 2019). We’re deeply committed to finding and showcasing new voices in our genre from around the world.

Uncanny Magazine is published as an eBook (MOBI, PDF, EPUB) bimonthly (the every other month kind) on the first Tuesday of that month through all of the major online eBook stores. Kickstarter Backers at the Subscriber Level or higher, and those purchasing single issues, get each issue in its entirety up front, no waiting. Those reading online for free wait a month for the second half, which appears on the first Tuesday of the second month at

We at Uncanny think we’re doing important work, and we’d like to continue. Please consider supporting Uncanny Magazine Year Six!

What’s Michi’s favorite bit?

Uncanny Magazine Year 6


I’ve been with Uncanny Magazine since the beginning, way back in 2014, and while the last five years have just flown by, it also feels like this magazine and the many wonderful people involved have always been a part of my life. It’s been an honor learning from my teammates and being part of the passion, skill, and professionalism that everyone at Uncanny brings to the table at every turn; without a doubt, being Managing Editor, and later also Nonfiction Editor, has made a significant difference in my life, both professionally and personally. Thanks to my work with Uncanny, I became the first Filipina to win a Hugo Award, and now have three shiny rockets on my mantle. I’ve gotten to know writers and other creators in SF/F who I’ve admired for years and can now call colleagues and friends. I’ve even gotten to write the text for a museum exhibit about Asian Pacific American Science Fiction, and I’m excited to explore even more possibilities as both a writer and an editor as I prepare to move on to the next phase of my career.

And all of this was possible because one of Uncanny’s deepest held principles is the importance of supporting and encouraging an inclusive SF/F field that is filled with diverse voices, particularly those of new and emerging creators. Before I joined Uncanny, I had become increasingly active in my local Chicago nerd community, organizing events, speaking on panels, and blogging, but while I’d accumulated over a decade’s worth of experience in publishing and production, having managed different trade and association publications, I hadn’t yet edited anything professionally in SF/F. I was relatively unknown when I first met Lynne & Michael Thomas at various cons and through mutual acquaintances, and getting their offer to join Uncanny as its first managing editor was an unexpected and unlooked for dream opportunity.

I can’t overstate how vital it is for new and emerging creators to have the chance for their work published alongside writers who may be more familiar to audiences. For one, it’s incredibly exciting to see your name appear in the same table of contents or masthead as creators whose work you’ve looked up to. But more importantly, the inclusion of new and emerging creators is what keeps SF/F strong and growing. Those voices help push the boundaries of genre further, playing with new techniques and approaches, building on the visions and ideas that came before, and infusing our communities with fresh energy. I’m always humbled when writers express how excited they are to submit their work to Uncanny because it means that those writers thought enough of our magazine and our editors to take a chance on trusting us with their work. No matter where a writer is in their career — whether they’re just getting started or have been publishing in the genre for years — it’s exciting to see how their works inform, challenge, and illuminate each other. There’s always some new idea to find, or a different perspective on familiar tropes to interpret, and the more new writers our industry publishes, the better off we all are for their inclusion.

Having the chance to open doors for others and invite them through has been one of the best parts of my time with Uncanny. By being part of this team, I’ve gotten to learn how to do so with thoughtfulness, empathy, and a constant interrogation of my own biases, pushing myself beyond my own comfort zones. I’m grateful for being introduced to a bounty of creative insights and challenging perspectives, as well as more wonderful new colleagues and friends. And now that my time with the magazine closing at the end of this year, I can’t wait to see how Uncanny will continue to grow with the addition of some fantastically talented folks. Without a doubt, Uncanny is going to be all the stronger for the roles Chimedum Ohaegbu (Managing Editor), Elsa Sjunneson-Henry (Nonfiction Editor), Angel Cruz (Assistant Editor), and Joy Piedmont (Podcast Reader) will be taking on in Year 6. All of them bring unique skills and perspectives to the table, and I’m excited that I’ll get to watch their time with Uncanny unfold along with the rest of the Space Unicorn Ranger Corps.

The greatest gift I could ask for after my time with Uncanny is knowing that the magazine is in the best possible hands as I leave, and I’ve been given that in spades. New ideas, the willingness to take risks, amazing creative energy, passion, and kindness, and the chance for a fresh voices to shine. This will always be my favorite bit of Uncanny.


Uncanny Magazine Year 6 Kickstarter: Raise the Roof, Raise the Rates

Uncanny Magazine

Uncanny Twitter

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Uncanny Facebook


Michi Trota

Managing Editor/Nonfiction Editor Michi Trota is a three-time Hugo Award winner, and the first Filipina to win a Hugo Award. Michi is an editor and essayist who has been published in The Book Smugglers, The Learned Fangirl, Invisible: An Anthology of Representation in SF/F, and Uncanny. She was the exhibit text writer for Worlds Beyond Here: Asian Pacific Americans in Science Fiction at the Wing Luke Museum in Seattle. She’s spoken at C2E2, the Chicago Humanities Festival, on NPR, and at universities and other organizations. Michi is a firespinner with the Raks Geek Fire+Bellydance troupe and lives in Chicago with her spouse and their two cats. Her secret mutant superpower is to make anyone hungry just by talking about food. Find her on Twitter @GeekMelange.

My Favorite Bit: Clark T. Carlton talks about THE PROPHET OF THE GHOST ANTS

My Favorite BitClark T. Carlton is joining us today with his novel The Prophet of the Ghost Ants. Here’s the publishers description:

Both familiar and fantastic, Clark T. Carlton’s Prophets of the Ghost Ants explores a world in which food, weapons, clothing, art—even religious beliefs—are derived from Humankind’s profound intertwining with the insect world.

In a savage landscape where humans have evolved to the size of insects, they cannot hope to dominate. Ceaselessly, humans are stalked by night wasps, lair spiders, and marauder fleas. And just as sinister, men are still men. Corrupt elites ruthlessly enforce a rigid caste system. Duplicitous clergymen and power-mongering royalty wage pointless wars for their own glory. Fantasies of a better life and a better world serve only to torment those who dare to dream.

One so tormented is a half-breed slave named Anand, a dung-collector who has known nothing but squalor and abuse. Anand wants to lead his people against a genocidal army who fight atop fearsome, translucent Ghost Ants. But to his horror, Anand learns this merciless enemy is led by someone from his own family: a religious zealot bent on the conversion of all non-believers . . . or their extermination.

A mix of Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Shadow of the Apt,Katherine Addison’s The Goblin Emperor,and Phillip Pullman’s Golden Compass,this is a powerful new addition to the genre.

What’s Clark’s favorite bit?

The Prophet of the Ghost Ant cover image


My favorite bit in my Antasy series is my Cockroach Tribe.

I may have lost a few of you already who think bugs are icky … and none are ickier than roaches.

I have no fondness for actual roaches. They were something I tried and failed to kill in the low rent apartments of my college days. I remember the nauseating stink of insecticides that failed to stop the cucarachas who only came out at night. While I was in bed I’d hear them as they crawled over the paper and plastics of the trash with that creepy rustling sound. When I flipped on the lights, they scrambled in a circular way to their home under the stove.


Cockroaches need to be exterminated because they can transmit the kinds of bacteria that cause food poisoning and they can spread parasitic worms and other human pathogens. And as companions, well, they are not exactly cute and cuddly or likely to impress your dates. An embarrassing moment from the days-before-cell-phones was when I brought in my answering machine to be repaired and was told it was a “roach motel.” Its six-legged inhabitants were drawn to its heat and darkness and something within the machine was delicious and nourishing. And as for those actual Black Flag Roach Motels (roaches check in but they don’t check out), I remember an alcohol and pot-fueled party where one guest, an aspiring performance artist, created an impromptu piece when she gathered those boxes reeking of maple syrup. She carefully opened the Motels to reveal their victims stuck to ribbons of glue and then pinned these sheets to a wall facing the front door. Arriving guests encountered a kind of abstract art that was beautiful at first … until you got up closer.

Major ick.

So yes, death to the cockroaches, but in the world of my science-fantasy series, roaches have a beneficial relationship with at least one tribe of humans. In this distant future, men and women have shrunk to a tenth of an inch and they are the last of the Earth’s red blooded creatures. It’s an oxygen rich world where the insects have gotten as large as they were in the Carboniferous Period — some of the flying ones have wingspans of two feet or more. In order to survive, the tiny humans don’t battle bugs but infiltrate and live among them and their cultures are an outgrowth of the insect they adopt. The brown ant people hate the yellow ant people and they detest the beetle people. And everyone hates the cockroach people.

Yes, millions of years from now, roaches are still reviled, but for a different reason.

The ant peoples of this futurity confine their lives to the mounds where they cohabitate with their insects. In order to be accepted by ants (instead of torn apart and eaten by them) the humans have to disguise themselves. They wear antennae and clothing made from the eggshells of pupae or the moltings of larvae, but more importantly, they wear their ants’ colony scent. The ants of a colony recognize each other as kin not by appearance, but with sniffs of their antennae. If some brown ant people stumble into yellow territory, the yellow ants will destroy the browns because they wear the scent of an enemy ant. This makes for a world where tribal divides are absolute and the word “ambassador” does not exist. Men and women with different ants are not recognized as fellow humans but as lesser beings with inferior insects.

The exception in this world is the Britasyte roach people. They are the wanderers of these treacherous lands, something made possible by their roaches exuding a pheromone that repels other insects. The roach people are hated for their dark skin and the stink of their insects and they are resented for their wealth and the freedoms of the roaming life. Sometimes they are hired by the monarchs of the ant nations to pass critical messages, but mostly the Britasytes are show people as well as traders and craftsmen. Their elaborate spectacles feature the forbidden beauty of women dancing to a frenzied music. Before the show, seductive roach girls ply the audience with a drink laced with a hallucinogenic fungus. After the show, the roach men sell the drunken revelers their cloth, jewelry and exotic items from distant lands.

The Roach Tribe lives in constant danger — one of their four clans has been lost for years — but they cannot imagine a life more fulfilling than their own. They call the ant peoples ‘sedites’, a word that degrades them for their settled ways. The Britasytes are sure that no insect is better than the roach which provides them with protection as well as eggs both for eating and as leather for boots and shoes. The largest roaches are draped and bejeweled draft animals that haul sand sleds encrusted with thousands of gems.

My hero, Anand, like so many heroes, is a boy from a mixed marriage and he has a foot in two worlds.  Among the ant people, Anand is the lowest of the low — a halfbreed outcaste. Like his father, he was born to a life of salvaging and waste disposal. But his mother, Corra, is a Britasyte who married an outsider to give birth to a spanner: a high status male to serve as a link to a powerful ant nation. Anand will grow up to negotiate trade deals as well as the tribe’s safety — or so he hopes.

My favorite chapter in my first book is when Anand is brought to an annual gathering of the Roach Clans to celebrate something like his bar mitzvah. It is the most beautiful night of his life when his clan’s chieftain gives him his first suit of clothes: a cape that resembles the elytra, or forewings of a roach. Under the cape is a tight and colorful tunic that reveals the roach-greased muscles of his arms and legs. That night, Anand is allowed his first drink of the Holy Mildew, a potion that connects him to the tribe’s two-sexed deity, the Lord-Lady Roach of the Spirit World. And just when it can’t get more blissful, Anand sees Daveena, a large and intimidating beauty as she dances around a cage of lightning flies. The sight of her “wracks Anand with a painful yearning and a sickness that would forever infect him.”  When Daveena touches Anand’s hand, “he sees their future in an instant: their marriage, pregnancies and grandchildren. He saw her hair turn gray and her corpse fed to the roaches.”

The Britasyte Camp

Art by Mozchops

You may still not have warmed up to roaches, even these imagined ones, but I’ve learned recently that some of them, like mammals, care for their young and even provide them with something like milk. All that aside, the next time you see a cockroach in your own house, step on it.  And then call the exterminator.


The Prophet of the Ghost Ants Universal Book Link




Clark T. Carlton is the son of a barefooted, Floridian cowboy and a beauty queen from the Land of Cotton who ventured North to raise their children in the long shadow of New York City. When he was a teenager, his family moved from a blue-collar melting pot to a segregated and conservative enclave of Southern California, an event which forever altered his world view. He studied English and Film at Boston University and UCLA and has worked as a screen and television writer, a journalist, and as a producer of reality television in addition to a thousand and one other professions. He has always had more blue than white in his collar.

Prophets of the Ghost Ants is his first original novel, a tale inspired during a trip to the Yucatan when he witnessed a battle for a Spanish peanut by two different kinds of ants. That night he dreamed of armies of tiny men on the backs of red and black ants. After doing years of research on insects and human social systems, the plot was revealed to him as a streaming, technicolor prophecy on the sixth night of Burning Man when the effigy goes up in flames.

Some of his favorite books are the classics of science fiction, all of which have an element of fantasy if they involve time travel or traveling faster than the speed of light (or through a wormhole) to another solar system. As a child, he had hopes of enlisting in Star Fleet Academy, but any physicist worth his neutrons will tell us that kind of space travel will never be possible. One of the greatest regrets of his life is that he cannot travel the galaxies to interact with alien societies- but it has opened him up to create his own imaginary world.

He lives with his family in Los Angeles where he enjoys tennis, volleyball, songwriting, and painting. A friend of his calls his paintings “Grandma Moses on acid”, which he takes as the highest compliment.

My Favorite Bit: Sean Grigsby talks about ASH KICKERS

My Favorite BitSean Grigsby is joining us today to talk about his novel Ash Kickers. Here’s the publisher’s description:

Dragons vs Firefighters vs the Phoenix. The scorching fantasy sequel to Smoke Eaters.

With ex-firefighter Cole Brannigan in command of the Smoke Eaters, the dragon menace is under control. Thanks to non-lethal Canadian tech, the beasts are tranquilized and locked up, rather than killed. But for Tamerica Williams, this job filled with action and danger, has become tediously routine.

When a new threat emerges, a legendary bird of fire – the Phoenix – it’s the perfect task for Williams. But killing the Phoenix just brings it back stronger, spreading fire like a plague and whipping dragons into a frenzy. Will it prove to be too much excitement, even for adrenalin-junkie Williams?

What’s Sean’s favorite bit?

Ash Kickers cover image


Sequels, am I right?

Fans of a story look forward to the next installment. Lauded creators do their best to make something new, that holds the spirit of the first, but not the same plot rewashed and hung out to dry. So many sequels end up sucking.

Obviously, I didn’t want Ash Kickers to suck. Its predecessor, Smoke Eaters, was well-received, and anything I wrote to expand that world had big fire boots to fill. I had to crank it to eleven.

If you’re not familiar, the Smoke Eaters series can be described as firefighters versus dragons in the future. The scalies have returned from beneath the earth and have turned the world into an ashen wasteland, save for the clusters of civilization that run as city-states. Parthenon City, Ohio is where our dragon-slaying civil servants call home, and they don’t just have scalies to worry about. Ghosts, job-stealing robots, and nefarious politicians round out a gallery of villains in the first book. Ash Kickers adds a few more to the list.

Tamerica Williams is now taking the reins while Cole Brannigan is still around, leading the smoke eaters as chief. Dragons are no longer killed, but caught and used for their life-saving blood. But something new just showed up. It eats dragons, is made of insanely hot fire, and no matter how many times you slay it, it comes back stronger than ever. That’s right. I’m talking about a phoenix.

And that’s not all.

A spree of suicide arsons is terrorizing the city. The cops suspect a cult, and the fire department can’t determine what they’re using as an accelerant. It’s almost as if they’re spontaneously combusting.

But I’m here to talk about my favorite bit, and I thought I’d give you a peek at something else. A sequel provides an opportunity to write the scenes you wished you’d put in the previous book. For me, I really wanted a scene where the smoke eaters have to battle dragons attacking the city. I’m talking about crumbling buildings, scalies soaring past windows on the twentieth floor, and good old fashioned downtown mayhem.

It starts with something going very wrong:

Multiple angry roars came from behind the smoke and flames. A scaly foot broke through and landed just in front of me. I looked up to see a white, crystalline dragon head looking down at me from at least fifty feet up. Training and adrenaline kicked in as I fired a few rounds at the scaly, the lasers striking the translucent spikes protruding from its cheek bones. My efforts only chipped off a few pieces of the spikes and made the dragon flinch slightly, as if the lasers were houseflies buzzing around its face.

Then, with a snarl, the dragon opened its mouth and showed me a sparkling blue light at the back of its throat.

Well, you don’t see that every day.

Still flat on the ground, I hit my suit’s power jump. The thrusters threw me across the ground. I didn’t go far but it was enough to dodge the scaly’s attack which came out as a blinding cone of cold energy.

“It’s a fucking ice dragon!” Naveena shouted through my helmet. “Get out of there, T!”

From there, dozens of dragons stampede for Parthenon City and the fight calls for every last smoke eater in Ohio to respond. Tamerica and fellow captain Naveena Jendal have their work cut out for them.

The ice dragon breathed its fury down the street as smatterings of people screamed and ran. Sheets of frost formed on windows. A few unfortunate souls had gotten blasted by the dragon’s ice beam, turning into macabre snow people after the light passed over them.

When Naveena lowered her final finger and the ice dragon’s tail swooped over our heads to the left, she shouted, “Now!”

Both of us hit our jump buttons and sailed into the air. Our trajectory should have put us dead center on the back of the scaly’s neck. But its tail swung back as we flew through the air, slamming into me first, then Naveena. We soared together in a tangled girl ball of smoke eaters. I managed to grab onto her, wanting something to hang onto. The world spun out of my control as I tumbled into the unknown.

What follows is a high-rise battle that only gets tougher as more dragons, walking human infernos, and vengeful ghosts enter the mix. But you’ll have to grab a copy to find out what happens next.


Ash Kickers Universal Book Link





SEAN GRIGSBY is a professional firefighter in central Arkansas, where he writes about lasers, aliens, and guitar battles with the Devil when he’s not fighting dragons. He grew up on Goosebumps books in Memphis, Tennessee, and hosts the Cosmic Dragon podcast.

My Favorite Bit: Olivia Waite talks about THE LADY’S GUIDE TO CELESTIAL MECHANICS

Favorite Bit iconOlivia Waite is joining us today to talk about her novel The Lady’s Guild to Celestial Mechanics. Here’s the publisher’s description:

As Lucy Muchelney watches her ex-lover’s sham of a wedding, she wishes herself anywhere else. It isn’t until she finds a letter from the Countess of Moth, looking for someone to translate a groundbreaking French astronomy text, that she knows where to go. Showing up at the Countess’ London home, she hoped to find a challenge, not a woman who takes her breath away.

Catherine St Day looks forward to a quiet widowhood once her late husband’s scientific legacy is fulfilled. She expected to hand off the translation and wash her hands of the project—instead, she is intrigued by the young woman who turns up at her door, begging to be allowed to do the work, and she agrees to let Lucy stay. But as Catherine finds herself longing for Lucy, everything she believes about herself and her life is tested.

While Lucy spends her days interpreting the complicated French text, she spends her nights falling in love with the alluring Catherine. But sabotage and old wounds threaten to sever the threads that bind them. Can Lucy and Catherine find the strength to stay together or are they doomed to be star-crossed lovers?

What’s Olivia’s favorite bit?


In 1876 a woman in Iowa named Ellen Harding Baker finished a solar system quilt. Ellen was a teacher and an astronomer, and in her lectures she used her quilt as a visual aid: it’s made of wool and silk in mostly black and white, with details of red and gold and blue. The quilt-top shows the sun and a dazzling comet and the orbits of all eight planets (this was before there were nine, and long before we went back down to eight).

In 2018, I wanted to write a book about a lady astronomer who falls in love with a countess who’s an accomplished embroiderer. I thought this book was going to be about Art Versus Science, Beauty Versus Truth, ladies kissing—important historical ideas like that. The story’s set in 1816, in London, and in the course of doing research I found myself wandering online archives of old cross-stitch and embroidery samplers. It’s a much, much weirder world than you expect: alongside all the happy animals and Bible verses there are samplers mourning lost loved ones and describing children dying horribly, all carefully created by putting down one tiny length of thread at a time.

One sampler, dated 1811, was a model of the solar system.

Solar System Embroidery Sampler

Solar System Embroidery Sampler, 1811

I was gobsmacked: the pattern had been printed, which meant it had been produced for sale. That means there was enough of a market for astronomy-themed embroidery that someone had created a product to satisfy demand. This wasn’t a one-off. The sampler shows the sun and the first seven planets, including the one labeled Georgium Sidus (named for King George III, which would later be changed to Neptune so it wouldn’t feel out of place among the other mythologically named planets).

If there was a market, there might be other examples like this one. I started searching more broadly for astronomy-themed embroidery, and bam, there was Ellen Harding Baker’s quilt.

Solar System Quilt by Ellen Harding Baker

Ellen Harding Baker’s Solar System Quilt, 1876

It changed everything.

Let’s talk about how much time it takes to make a quilt: a lot. Cutting fabric, top stitching, seaming. Even if you have a Singer sewing machine to help with the piecework, you still end up doing all that fine embroidery by hand. You have to really love the subject you’re working on to spend seven years illustrating it.

You also have to believe your subject can be beautiful. You have to believe that loveliness is a kind of fact—and that showing the solar system’s aesthetic appeal is an important part of describing it accurately.

Ellen Harding Baker was doing Art and Science, Truth and Beauty. I realized my entire framework had been flawed—and not just about the book. As a feminist and that annoyingly precocious kid who loved school and learning and tests and all that, I always felt like I had failed on some level because I hadn’t ended up a scientist in a prestigious field in need of more women. I’d been quietly, thoughtlessly buying into notions of hard science versus soft humanities, logical manly knowledge versus flimsy feminine imagination. These categories were painfully, uselessly limiting, and I promptly spent the entire romance letting my fictional ladies knock them down bit by bit to see if we couldn’t create something better.

I put in something like the sampler—but I had to leave out Ellen Baker Harding and her quilt. She lived sixty years later and on a different continent; there was no way I could work it into the text.

But it’s still my favorite bit, because even though it’s not anywhere on the page, it shaped everything that I put into the book. It’s the heart of the entire 80,000-word idea.

Ellen Harding Baker died before she reached forty, so the seven years she spent making her quilt turned out to be nearly a quarter of her entire life. And unlike the unknown young lady who stitched the 1811 sampler, she signed it. Sewed her name and the date and the words Solar System right onto the wool, in all caps, so there would be no denying what it was, who made it, and when.

That we have her quilt and know her name is rare, especially since museum collections and historical narratives so often lean toward masculine-coded ideas of what objects and events are important: battles and discoveries and conquest, political power and violence. We keep swords and armor and royal portraits; we consign kitchenware and cast-off clothes to the trash bins of memory.

Writers often think of research as a kind of collection: you gather up facts and trivia and people until you can lay them all out for admiration like specimens in a curio cabinet. But with this book, I’ve realized there’s another method, which needs another metaphor. Imagine a writer’s mind as a space where story-bits accumulate, piling up in great formless heaps like fresh snowbanks. Inspiration is the thing that comes along and leaves an impression—the muse that tumbles full-length into the snow, waving arms and legs for a snow angel, imposing a shape on all that nebulous story-stuff. Inspiration moves on: you don’t need to keep it or trap it or put pins through its fragile wings.

What matters is the impression it left behind, that space in which we find meaning. So I thought of Ellen Harding Baker and wrote about the affinity between art and science, and how the truth could be beautiful. I wrote about artificial categories, and how to not let them keep you from pursuing better ideas.

All that, and ladies kissing, too. It’s the best and the truest writing I’ve ever done.


A Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics Universal Book Link





Olivia Waite writes historical romance, fantasy, and science fiction. She is also the monthly romance columnist for the Seattle Review of Books, where she writes reviews of romances old and new and thoughtful essays on the genre’s history and future.

My Favorite Bit: Reed King talks about FKA USA

Favorite Bit iconReed King is joining us today to talk about his book FKA USA. Here’s the publisher’s description:

In Reed King’s wildly imaginative and possibly prescient debut, the United States has dissolved in the wake of environmental disasters and the catastrophic policies of its final president.

It is 2085, and Truckee Wallace, a factory worker in Crunchtown 407 (formerly Little Rock, Arkansas, before the secessions), has no grand ambitions besides maybe, possibly, losing his virginity someday.

But when Truckee is thrust unexpectedly into the spotlight he is tapped by the President for a sensitive political mission: to deliver a talking goat across the continent. The fate of the world depends upon it.

The problem is―Truckee’s not sure it’s worth it.

Joined on the road by an android who wants to be human and a former convict lobotomized in Texas, Truckee will navigate an environmentally depleted and lawless continent with devastating―and hilarious―parallels to our own, dodging body pickers and Elvis-worshippers and logo girls, body subbers, and VR addicts.

Elvis-willing, he may even lose his virginity.

What’s Reed’s favorite bit?

FKA USA cover image


It’s a little bit funny to wax poetic about one’s own writing—it gives the similarly squirmy feeling of discomfort of being discovered for some disgustingly indulgent personal habit, like revealing a private pleasure in the smell of one’s own dirty socks—but I will take inspiration from Barnaby, Gentleman, Scholar, and Talking Goat, who would no doubt have no trouble finding one thousand words (or one hundred thousand) of praise for the short section in which he takes the narrative reins and gives us his backstory.

FKA USA has always felt to me like a completely foreign interpolation in my brain—unlike anything else I had written, and full of characters who truly seemed to headbutt their way into existence without my permission—and at the same time, like an integration (some would say, collision?) of basically all of my interests, influences, and extremely diverse passions. Biotechnology and political science, cultism and VR, classic literature of all stripes, from Frank L. Baum to Douglas Adams to Trollope—yes, that Trollope.

I’ve always loved to escape into worlds. I’ve always loved hefty books with big page counts and too much detail. This is reflected in my work (and in many Goodreads reviews—but that’s another story). The story-within-a story subsections that grant first-person narration to some of the secondary characters was an idea born out of (I’m semi-ashamed to admit) lazy recollections of 19th– and 20th– century works, notably Tom Jones and The Turn of the Screw, which in my (indolent) memory (may have) made use of nesting structures and also the kind of passing of the narrative baton.

Also, there was no way Barnaby was going to let me get through 450 + pages without once steering the book.

It’s always kind of cringeworthy when writers talk about their characters as if they are real, other-beings, with independent existences and characteristics and demands. It’s somewhat like when people refer to themselves in the third person: like proof of pretention so big it has to have its own domain. But actually, writing does seem to work both in- and out-side of the self, much like any good romantic relationship. In other words: books seem to have their own independent stories, their own needs and will; but they also seem to be connected to your story, to what you wanted to say, to what you were looking to answer. And they must be willing to work with you.

I did not know that I would find a goat in this book. I certainly did not know that he would be a talking goat. I did not even know what book I was writing, by the time Billy Lou Ropes ended up on a crosswalk with his arms roped around a live animal–a living, breathing creature, made not by man but some riot of chance and evolution and quantum physics and timespace, or by what many people call God—in context, and in Truckee’s world, a fatal thing. I was just following Truckee’s voice, and it led me to the crosswalk, and to the warmth of the goat that pinned Truckee beneath his weight.

Barnaby the goat by Rhys Davies

Barnaby by Rhys Davies

I like writing for the same reason I like reading, and it gives me much of the same sense of discovery. So it was much to my surprise when—without question, without doubt—I turned the mental page in my mind and heard that goat actually speak. He had to speak, because I heard him speak, in my head, but I knew it was him speaking, and not me.

And then, of course, I had to explain how it was possible a goat could speak.

And Barnaby would again be very happy and gratified to know that the entire book swung into rough shape on the hinge of his very first utterance. The scientific arms race toward infinity; the Wizard of Oz journeying toward a foreign city in an attempt to return to home or its idea; the narrative motivations and emotional arcs for our major characters…all would not have been possible were it not for Barnaby fisting Truckee, and me, simultaneously in the chest and, for the first (and last) time in the book, saying only two words.

The section in which he narrates his history at and escape from Lagunda-Honda is probably my favorite because, to be honest, it was really easy. (See aforementioned mental laziness as a factor.) You know how everyone has that one aunt or neighbor or classmate whose voice is so stridently audible it serves as a kind of warning signal to steer clear? Barnaby is like that. Once you hear him, you cannot unhear him. He will certainly make sure of it.

I was as delighted as anyone else to learn about Barnaby’s earliest memories and his fondness for Latex gloves. I literally did not experience any word of any portion of that section as “writing.” It felt just like transcribing—then, and every time Barnaby hoofed his way onto central-page.

One of my favorite aphorisms about writing is that the only criticism you can level meaningfully against a book is if it fails to live. Barnaby’s entrance—warm, profane, alive, and, you know, goat-y—into the clinical manipulations of Crunchtown 407 provoked a seism both on the page and in my imagination: suddenly, the words I was cranking down the line, one after another, blew apart. Suddenly, someone else was speaking.

More precisely—a goat.

And at the same time, the whole book came to life.


FKA USA Universal Book Link


Reed King is the pseudonym for a New York Times bestselling author and TV writer.