Asking the Wrong Questions

Readers of this blog will know how much I admire the writing the of Aliya Whiteley, not least because of how varied it is. She has written fungal horror ( The Beauty ), satire ( Greensmith ), planetary romance ( Skyward Inn ) and much else. And even within those genres, her writing is often hard to pin down, taking strange and unexpected turns and refusing an easy summation. I reviewed Whiteley's latest novel, The Misheard World , in last month's issue of Locus, which also gave me an opportunity to tease out a common thread that is becoming apparent in much of her writing. It's common, in the genres of science fiction and fantasy, to say that a certain work is about the power of storytelling. Often what's meant by this is something rather misty-eyed: the power of stories to inspire, to give meaning, to imbue the world with magic and wonder. In a career that has spanned some ten novels and novellas in a range of genres and styles, Aliya Whiteley has returned often to th...

I've been a fan of Aliya Whiteley since reading her bizarre, disturbing novella The Beauty in 2015. Since then, I've approached all of Whiteley's books and stories knowing that I'll find weirdness and thought-provoking ideas in equal measure, and have never been disappointed. I have a review of Whiteley's latest up at Strange Horizons . It's a sly piece of writing that starts out pulpy and strange and then gets deeper (but no less strange) as it goes on. the horror in Whiteley’s stories runs deeper than mere disgust. It is the horror of the loss of self, of loneliness, and of realizing that the world is more dangerous and cruel than you had been raised to believe. In her most recent novella, Greensmith , Whiteley once again delivers a compelling and plausible future world alongside disquieting horror, but she also adds a new weapon to her arsenal: humor. Greensmith is a tale about the end of the world, about looking back on your life and evaluating your mista...

2016's reading continues to be rewarding, and though perforce less swift now that I'm no longer on holiday, still moving along at a steady clip.  This bunch of books includes several that I can already tell will be on my list of favorite reads at the end of the year. The Portable Veblen by Elizabeth McKenzie - This spring's it-litfic comes with blurbs by Ursula K. Le Guin and Karen Joy Fowler, and has a quasi-literary, quasi-romantic, quasi-slipstreamy premise that seems instantly appealing.  The novel spans the short but eventful engagement of Veblen, an underachieving temp worker and sometimes translator who lives in a storybook house in the woods and talks to squirrels (who sometimes talk back), and Paul, a neurologist whose new gadget to prevent traumatic brain injury in the field has been picked up for testing by the US military.  Right off the bat, the book feels like an invigorating blend of the personal, the political, and the topical.  Veblen, whose ret...

I read 44 books in 2015, about the same as last year and still not where I'd like to be (I'm still working on what might yet be number 45, but I doubt I'll make it in the three hours and change I have left).  About a third of the books I read were science fiction, a much higher proportion than usual due to Hugo reading and some other writing projects I'm working on.  Though I've found some great new discoveries, it's not a ratio I'd like to maintain.  In 2016, I'd like to get back to reading more mainstream fiction, not to mention fantasy.  I also read quite a few short story collections (and an even larger number of uncollected short stories during my search for Hugo nominees early in the year), which I find more pleasing--I used to be a great lover of the short story collection, and I seem to have fallen out of the habit in recent years.  It's good to get back to it. Highlights of the reading year include going back to The Lord of the Rings for ...