I was tempted to set aside this post in favour of writing about the AHCA vote (I’m Canadian, but so many of my friends and colleagues are in the US), but that’s not why I hopped on the blog today. And if I start screaming at the top of my lungs about that vote and the damage it does if it becomes law I may never stop.
So I’m going to post the blog I was writing when the vote came down. Said post is entirely publishing related. For all that publishing is frequently a shitshow, contemplating the good things that come out of it and sharing them is one way I cope with the state of the world.
Thus, today’s post:
Hot on the heels of posting about reviews for Anathema and my own work, yet another recs post went online that recommends … wait for it … both work in Anathema (and the mag itself), and my own work as well!
As part of an excellent list of recommended work, Vanessa Fogg’s March/April 2017 Reading Recs post gives a shoutout to S. Qiouyi Lu’s “A Complex Filament of Light”:
Depression is a topic not easily discussed among Asian-Americans—not even among the younger generations. To see this addressed in a work of fiction is deeply meaningful to me.
You can read the whole review/rec at the link above.
If you haven’t yet read S. Qiouyi Lu’s “A Complex Filament of Light” you can read it for free in Issue 1: http://www.anathemamag.com/a-complex-filament-of-light
And then Fogg goes on to add:
(Note: Lu’s story appears in the first issue of Anathema Magazine, a new journal dedicated to publishing speculative fiction by queer people of color. The other stories I read in this issue are also gorgeous and well worth your time.)
I’m ridiculously happy to keep seeing Anathema connect with our readers. :)
I’m also ridiculously happy that the recs post didn’t just cover editorial projects I’m involved in, but went on to cover my own story, “And in That Sheltered Sea, a Colossus”, from Shimmer 36:
Some of the most beautiful prose I’ve ever seen. A lushly atmospheric piece which immersed me in a world unlike any other. Ghosts, titans, and the weight of family. A woman living alone in a drowned land encounters a stranger who might just set her free. This piece is gorgeous.
I’m posting the whole rec/review because … god damn.
“Some of the most beautiful prose I’ve ever seen.”
Someone actually said that about my work.
I am still in delighted shock. Especially given the last couple of reviews received for that piece.
In truth it’s timely encouragement since I just started writing the seventh of the Titan and Serpent pieces the other day, and have been thinking about the framework of that story again and what pieces of the narrative I want to tell directly within that larger arc (it really is moving toward working best as a book at this point, rather than solely as disparate stories).
Knowing that people out there are connecting with those stories is a hell of a motivation to keep telling them. :)
For months I have been trying to think of how best to describe Titan and Serpent, since I frequently fumble on trying to include all the elements it contains when I try and talk to people about its larger narrative and themes. (There’s a fair bit of worldbuilding going on, and the material’s time span covers about a millennium, so talking about it gets complicated fast.) But I think I’ve finally found the answer (though you’ll need to understand the video game references to make this work):
This is not, in truth, surprising to me now that I’ve finally come to that description, since the series began directly as a way of interacting with the kind of storytelling SotC was doing. SotC is still one of my favourite video games — and one of my favourite pieces of storytelling.
But there you go. Now to finish fucking writing all those pieces and figure out how the hell I’m ever going to sell a book with that logline as its sales point. ;)