Hub #27 - 30

I was only a couple of paragraphs into “House Trainer” by Kenneth B. Chiacchia in Hub #27 when I thought, “Why didn’t I think of this idea?” Much has been written about home AIs, where the house has a personality of sorts, but Chiacchia’s take on it is a real treat.

Joyce has her own private practice as a House Trainer, services hired when a home AI goes awry. She shows up at Mrs. Chamberlain’s home and is immediately annoyed with the naiveté of her new client. The AI is ordering magazines and pizzas that the owners don’t want, and occasionally hurls objects at them when they’re “unreasonable.” Techno wand in hand, Joyce sets out to discipline the unit.

This is a light, near-flawless tale, which is why I’m reluctant to bring up my only small grumble. In the heat of the drama in the basement, this line appears: “Later, Joyce would wonder what tipped her off…” One of the advantages of third person over first person narratives—this story is in third—is that in first person, you can usually be certain that the narrator lives to tell the tale, as he or she had to write it down. In this regard, third person usually adds more suspense as to the uncertainty of the outcome. Though a light story where the reader assumes all turns out well, this line momentarily killed the suspense. Still, this tale is quite enjoyable. I sure wish I’d thought of it.

The fiction selection for Hub #28 is “Inside Every Successful Man” by Gareth D Jones. Instead of checking into rehab, burned-out rock star Jav has rehab come to him. Nanites are injected into his system, and various iconic characters are superimposed on his vision to keep him in line: Billy the Kidney, the Lung Ranger, the Tooth Fairy, etc.

I found this story a chore to read due to the lackluster prose and flat characterization. But what annoyed me most were the myriad typo gaffes, such as:

“I’ve gotta protect my interests.” Said Billy the Kidney. “Now just pour it away.”

I won’t lay this all on the author’s doorstep, as these mistakes in punctuation and capitalization should’ve been caught by the editor. The above sentence is only 140 words into the narrative. If I hadn’t intended to review this, I would’ve stopped right there. This is a clever enough idea, but it’s poorly rendered. Recommendation: Swim at your own risk!

“Nightmare Man” by Jeremy C. Shipp in Hub #29 is a horror tale, of course. Tomas lies in his room facing his mental demons when a phone call tells him to eat a peanut with a human face on it. This evokes the presence of Jade, a woman with green hair wearing a red dress, who wishes him to be her servant. After a few reality shifts, the point of all this is finally made clear. Tomas is dealing with his grief and guilt for accidentally killing his wife and young son by his inattentive driving.

Typically, I disrelish horror fiction, and this story began without exception, but the ending made me do an about-face. It’s Shipp’s expressive language, though overwrought in places, that pulled me along. While much of this tale is just one damned thing after another to evoke that surreal, nightmarish feeling in the reader, the ending shined. My problem with so much dark fantasy/horror fiction is that it has little to say—to me at least—except the presumed pointlessness of the human experience, a narrative designed only to give the reader his terror fix. And while Shipp accomplishes that, the conclusion carries enough human significance to elevate it above your typical creepfest.

Though categories aren’t all that important, I’d call Ken Goldman’s “Chance of Rain” in Hub #30 slipstream. Basically a plotless tale, a grandmother and her daughter drift back into a dream world while the mother’s young son looks on. As with most slipstream stories, this one is difficult to synopsize. Lovers kissing in the rain, sparrows dying, and music from the past give an ineffable quality that chills the reader while opening up the past of these two women. Goldman writes exceptionally well, but with over 440 published stories to his credit, it’s not surprising. Recommended.