Tor.com content by

Lesley Hauge

Fiction and Excerpts [1]
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Fiction and Excerpts [1]

Nomansland (Excerpt)

, || Sometime in the future, after widespread devastation, a lonely, windswept island in the north is populated solely by women. Among them is a group of teenage Trackers, expert equestrians and archers, whose job is to protect their shores from the enemy—men. When these girls find a buried house from the distant past, they're fascinated by the strange objects they find—high-heel shoes, magazines, makeup. What do these mysterious artifacts mean? What must the past have been like for those people? And what will happen to their rigid, Spartan society if people find out what they've found?

Nomansland (Excerpt)

Out in paperback today, take a look at this excerpt from Nomansland by Lesley Hauge:

Sometime in the future, after widespread devastation, a lonely, windswept island in the north is populated solely by women. Among them is a group of teenage Trackers, expert equestrians and archers, whose job is to protect their shores from the enemy—men. When these girls find a buried house from the distant past, they’re fascinated by the strange objects they find—high-heel shoes, magazines, makeup. What do these mysterious artifacts mean? What must the past have been like for those people? And what will happen to their rigid, Spartan society if people find out what they’ve found?

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We Are What We Leave Behind 

The ideas that eventually turn into a book are scattered and scavenged things. For me, when I started to write my post-apocalyptic YA novel, Nomansland, one of the many fragments that came to form the whole story, were images of the town of Pripyat, the company town of Chernobyl a decade after the nuclear reactor blew in the spring of 1986. Those images continue to mesmerize: a closed place of buildings softened and transformed by swarming greenery, the brutalist architecture now alive with mutant birds, colonies of bats and contorted, irradiated trees. Wolves now roam among the rusting swings in the playgrounds and rare wild horses cross the faded parking spaces outside the derelict office buildings of what was once a town of some 50,000 people. I think of it as a toxic Eden.

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