In a cosmic rally race winding 12,000 kilometers across Io’s treacherous surface in just 60 hours, all while dodging the competition, fatigue, and violent lava geysers—there’s only one way Cat knows how to win: Just drive.
In a cosmic rally race winding 12,000 kilometers across Io’s treacherous surface in just 60 hours, all while dodging the competition, fatigue, and violent lava geysers—there’s only one way Cat knows how to win: Just drive.
A Russian émigré poet living in Paris is visited by a mysterious bear with an agenda…
A post-human civilization of synthetic beings, fixated on the concept of children, grapples with the meaning of life…after life ceases to exist.
On a trip to Italy, a woman stuck in a crumbling relationship discovers the city she loves holds a secret that could change her life…
An AI car is caught between its ruthless employer and the people she hurt. . .
A private eye plagued by hallucinations is hired to retrieve a mummified monk’s head stolen from a cathedral–but why would someone want it?
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Prosperity City’s corrupt mayor never guessed his greatest opponent would be a fire-breathing dragon and her unconventional platform…
As headlines have been informing us recently, censorship is very much alive and well across the United States—but there’s a difference between a book you’re not allowed to read and one you simply can’t read. The subset of non-censored reading material out there that actively seems to dare readers to make any sense of it is deep and vast. From codices to puzzles to straight-up art projects, books that aren’t meant to be read (or are essentially impossible to read) present the bibliophile with a true conundrum: Just how hard should you have to work to read and enjoy a book?
Here, then, are six publications that you’re free to try to track down, but which have a seriously select group of readers nonetheless…
Urban fantasy is a subgenre in the continuum of the fantastic which superimposes supernatural elements onto one or more contemporary urban settings. Basically, big bustling cities populated by both humans and fantasy creatures, often dealing with modern problems. Think fallen gods partying in nightclubs of Lagos or London or Los Angeles. Vampires that are into crypto. Lawyers that are secretly sorcerers. Witches driving fast cars while making trades on the stock market. Urban fantasy might be my favorite subgenre because when done well, the juxtaposition can generate fascinating new spins on classic tropes and be used to critique aspects of our modern world—economics, politics, religion, technology, culture and more—by exaggerating or casting them in a new light.
Now, in many African cultures, the supernatural and the physical are often already believed to exist side by side, and it’s not unusual to find supernatural elements popping up in non-genre fiction (hello, Magical Realism, my old friend, I’ve had to mention you again).
I have sufficient books on hand (paper and ebook) that I cannot possibly re-read them all in my remaining lifespan. Surrounded as I am by old friends, why even consider buying new books, let alone reading them?
It may not surprise you to know that—as with the question of why to read old books—I can think of at least five reasons.
This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the film being covered here wouldn’t exist.
While we now sadly have to wait until 2024 to see the spice flow once more in Dune: Part Two, director Dennis Villeneuve has some details on what we can expect from his adaptation of Frank Herbert’s work.
It’s time to settle in for a little light reading of Fairies and How to Avoid Them…
Maybe it’s the presence of autumn on the horizon; maybe it’s the entirely understandable desire to sit down with a good book when the mood gets cozier. I’m not honestly sure what it is, but: the next two months seem to bring with them a lot more books on indie presses than I usually write about in this column. Not that that’s a bad thing, mind you; looking over this list of books, I see an impressive range of work represented—and whether you’re looking to read a subdued novel of subtle horrors or an expansive tour through alternate worlds, you might just be able to find your next great read right here.
The Aurora Awards, presented by the Canadian Science Fiction and Fantasy Association, recognize the best work done by Canadians in the previous year. The winners of the 2023 awards were announced last weekend in an online ceremony, and you can see the full list of nominees and winners below.
Congratulations to all the winners!
Author Ned Beauman has won the 37th Arthur C. Clarke Award for his excellently named novel Venomous Lumpsucker, which The Guardian called “a jaunty, cerebral eco-thriller.”
Illustration from The Hound of the Baskervilles (Richard Gutschmidt, 1905)
Gothic horror is not like other horror. Most people tend to think of it as the quieter genre—the subtler horror that creeps in like mould in your walls—and they’re not wrong. Subtlety has long been a key hallmark of the genre, which wends its way through domestic settings and unsettles them, not by crashing through with a battering ram but by picking things up and putting them back in slightly the wrong place. The Gothic comforts us paradoxically with its creeping sense of unease, appealing to our desire to be reassured that, “yes, something is wrong here; no, you’re not imagining it.” On the surface, there’s something almost gentle about it—and yet, this genre can resonate powerfully from one age to the next. It speaks to us about the anxieties of our time, and connects us with the anxieties of the past, many of which are more familiar to us than we may realise at first glance.
Perhaps for this reason, Gothic horror has seen a dramatic resurgence of popularity in the last few years. Last summer, over 200,000 people signed up to the newsletter Dracula Daily, and this year the serialisation of Bram Stoker’s classic has been joined by a spectacular accompanying podcast, Re: Dracula. If you’re new to the genre, or looking to delve in a bit deeper, you may be uncertain where to start. To help, here are five memorable Gothic classics, ordered by date of publication, which pack a great deal into relatively few pages…
This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the film being covered here wouldn’t exist.
Shai-Hulud, Kraven the Hunter, and the Ghostbusters are an odd group to have something in common, but they do: All three are the stars of movies that have been moved to 2024. Warner Bros. has moved their big dusty sequel from this fall to March 15, 2024. Does Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) need to worry about the Ides of March?
Fate, the elusive brother of Death, has taken up residence in a sumptuous estate near Thorn Grove…
We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from Adalyn Grace’s Gothic-infused YA fantasy Foxglove, the sequel to last year’s Belladonna—out now from Little, Brown Books for Young Readers.
Amnesia and recovered memories have become an accidental theme of recent columns, from the repressed memories of High Tide and The Dead Lifeguard to the amnesia-faking antagonists of Sunburn and The Surfer. All in all, amnesia is ridiculously commonplace in ‘90s teen horror, with traumatic experiences blocking out whole chunks of characters’ memories or, in the case of those who fake their memory loss, providing a convenient excuse to avoid answering tricky questions, like “did you murder my great great grandfather?” While the protagonists of High Tide and The Dead Lifeguard think they remember most of what happened to them, with just a few isolated blind spots in their recollections, in Christopher Pike’s The Lost Mind (1995) and Sinclair Smith’s Amnesia (1996), Jennifer and Alicia both wake up with no idea who they are, what they’ve done, or how they’ve ended up where they find themselves. These girls’ quests to solve these questions and end their nightmares are central to The Lost Mind and Amnesia, with the act of recovering these memories taking center stage.
This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the series being covered here wouldn’t exist.
Peacock’s Wolf Like Me, the supernatural romantic dramedy starring Josh Gad and Isla Fisher as Gary and Mary, a couple who have the usual complexities of any relationship compounded by the fact that Mary is a werewolf who ate her first husband the night she turned.
Season two is coming our way soon, and today we got some first-look images, some casting news, and a teaser about what might be in store for Gary and Mary in the upcoming episodes.
Photo: Eman Ali [via Unsplash]
I have sufficient books on hand (paper and ebook) that I cannot possibly re-read them all in my remaining lifespan. Surrounded as I am by old friends, why even consider buying new books, let alone reading them?
It may not surprise you to know that—as with the question of why to read old books—I can think of at least five reasons.
Sure, the approach of fall means cozy sweaters and seasonal beverages, but it means something more important, too: The return of Our Flag Means Death. David Jenkins’ perfect pirate comedy returns for its hotly anticipated second season sometime in October—no date has been announced, but what we do know is that it’ll return with more pirates, more ships, more locations, and more queer romance.
Star Trek debuted on September 8, 1966, and now that date is Star Trek Day, a day of festive celebrations online and off. Strange New Worlds on CBS! Lower Decks screenings! And more!
Red Dragon illustrated by Sandara
In 1504, a copper globe was built somewhere in Europe. It stood only 4.4 inches in diameter and 13.6 inches in circumference, so it was nothing terribly overwhelming. Tiny ships and monsters adorned its seas—also commonplace at the time. But there was a small inscription, near the eastern coast of Asia, that made this particular globe one of a kind: it became the only documented ancient map to quietly go on record saying, Hic sunt dracones. Here be dragons.
Like a siren, the promise and danger of that single phrase called out to Western storytellers. Yet the dragons found on that globe, and the dragons found in literature today, are enormously different creatures. We should know: we’re the ones who re-wrote this mythical beast time and again. So just where be Western dragons at the beginning of their story? And how did they grow into the icons we know now?
As far as premises for space exploration go, the one in Foe seems to have some flaws. Pick a guy who’s never even been on an airplane and send him to space—leaving a robot version of him in his place? This is not a space program; this is a demented psychological experiment.
At least, I hope it is, or the rest of the people in space are in trouble.