Asking the Wrong Questions

In my review of this year's Hugo-nominated novels , I noted, while discussing Robert Jackson Bennett's A Drop of Corruption , that I had a review forthcoming of its sequel, A Trade of Blood . That review is now online at Locus . One of the things that shines through in that review, I think, is that this series, in which a detective duo tramp across a fantasy-world empire, investigating crimes that imperil this stratified, militaristic society's ability to fight off dangerous monsters, is that three books in, the Ana and Din mysteries have very consistent strengths and weaknesses. Also in keeping with the previous volumes, the mystery in A Trade of Blood is a bit on the easy side – it does not, for example, seem to occur to a crack crime-solving team like Ana and Din that when the heirs to a vast fortune have all died under mysterious circumstances, there is an obvious sus­pect whom they should focus their investigation on. This is presumably because much of the storytelli...

The first of my three reviews in the August 2026 issue of Locus is now online , and it's of a book that I hope to see getting a lot of attention as the year draws to a close. August Clarke's second novel, The Felicity Complex , is a delightfully disquieting horror/SF mashup about an artificial being recruited to act as hostess in an underground bunker. As I write in the review, this is a fusion of two of the most popular SFnal ideas of the last few years. There is the apocalypse bunker, the idea that the wealthy and powerful can ride out nuclear war, climate catastrophe, or social unrest in a secret, luxuriously appointed underground location. And there is the fembot, an artificial creation made to look like a woman and thus treated like one – often, like the most abject and powerless of women – who must decide how they feel about this. It's surprising that Clarke appears to be the first writer to combine these two premises – the matter of staffing an apocalypse bunker is,...

"The Departure of Boromir" by  Anke Eißmann , 2003 Aragorn hesitated. He desired to go to the high seat himself, hoping to see there something that would guide him in his perplexities; but time was pressing. Suddenly he leaped forward, and ran to the summit, across the great flag-stones, and up the steps. Then sitting on the high seat he looked out. But the sun seemed darkened, and the world dim and remote. He turned from North back again to North, and saw nothing save the distant hills, unless it were that far away he could see again a great bird like an eagle high in the air, descending slowly in wide circles down towards the earth. At the beginning of the third book of The Lord of the Rings , and the first of The Two Towers , J.R.R. Tolkien does two things that remind us, yet again, that he was writing before many of the "rules" of fantasy fiction (and perhaps of popular fiction in general) were codified. First, he switches his point of view to Aragorn. The Lord ...

In the mid-90s, my family went on a road trip in New England. My mother, eager to reinforce her children's only-nominal Americanness, started us off in Boston and plotted a course full of historical points of interest on our way to a Passover seder at my aunt's house in Rochester, NY. Most of the stops on this journey were new to me (or perhaps only vaguely familiar from books such as Johnny Tremaine and The Witch of Blackbird Pond —I told you that my mother tried to make Americans out of us). One stop, however, I may have insisted on making myself. Even from the other side of the planet, I had imbibed, from movies, TV, and general cultural miasma, the notion of Salem, Massachusetts as "Witch City". I was aware of the witch trials, but in no way interested in reconciling the paradox that even respectable Salem tourist attractions, such as the Salem Witch Museum , mostly avoid—the fact that there were no witches in Salem in 1692, and yet the town continues to capitali...

In a little more than a day, the winners of this year's Hugo awards will be announced in Los Angeles . I've toned down my discussion of the Hugo nominees in recent years—not coincidentally, a period in which the award, especially in the Best Novel category, has become more inward-looking and fun-seeking. Compare, for example, this year's Hugo shortlist with the one for the Arthur C. Clarke Award , which includes climate fiction (a subgenre whose existence the Hugo seems determined to ignore) and near-future political dystopia. So it was a bit to my surprise when I found myself with things to say about each of this year's Best Novel nominees. This is not a great shortlist, but it is, I think, a representative snapshot of a certain subset of the fantastic genres, and as such is worth talking about. First up on the ballot is Robert Jackson Bennett's A Drop of Corruption , the sequel to 2024's The Tainted Cup , which won the Best Novel award last year. Both books—a...

Cover design for Unfinished Tales (1980) by J.R.R. Tolkien The problems that confront one given responsibility for the writings of a dead author are hard to resolve. Some persons in this position may elect to make no material whatsoever available for publication, save perhaps for work that was in a virtually finished state at the time of the author's death. In the case of the unpublished writings of J.R.R. Tolkien this might seem at first sight the proper course, since he himself, peculiarly critical and exacting of his own work, would not have dreamt of allowing even the more completed narratives in this book to appear without much further refinement. There comes a point in the lifecycle of every sufficiently successful story in which it becomes an IP. At that point, there are two stories rather than one: there is the story itself, and the story about how it became that story. The fruitful collaborations, necessary compromises, backstage drama, and financial shenanigans that all c...