Talebones, #36, Spring 2008

In issue #36 of Talebones, “The Cankerman Shower” by Paul Melko whimsically captures the campy Bat Durston drama (and many of the sexist stereotypes) of the ’50s space westerns that we’ve grown to love. Mr. Cankerman, however, as his name implies, is rotten to the core, and yet lovable in a Han Solo sort of way. As a smuggler, he’s one step ahead of the law and takes advantage of every opportunity—to the chagrin and detriment of his partners. Thus, his eventual comeuppance is well deserved. And yet…I still wanted to cheer for this scoundrel. And that’s what makes this story fun. This well-written tale gives us the satisfaction of having it both ways. While the reader may enjoy watching Cankerman squirm, you know (and secretly wish) that he’ll scrabble to safety. Now if only he’d learn his lesson, quit his philandering ways, and settle into a respectable line of work. But then, we wouldn’t get to see this rascal pulp hero star in an exciting new series of fiction.

“Rock House” by James Van Pelt, a story that might send shivers down even Poe’s spine, takes on a life of its own and invites the reader into an eerie, cave-like dwelling where old friends reunite to reminisce about books, life, and lost opportunities. And also to consider immortality. For Rick and Lynn, the brother and sister who reside there, the choice is clear—they will, like the thousands of volumes in their petrified library, enter into the ages. But for Allan, their guest, it’s all still a temptation, and one not easily resolved. What ifs haunt his thoughts, and it’s only when he sees Lynn make her choice that he makes his. A scary tale, this piece captures the psychological and emotional uncertainty that haunts many of our thoughts as we make those many and varied, but potentially eternity-impacting, choices.

“The Thickness of a Warp” by Dean Wesley Smith is, as the title implies, a time-warp story that creatively grapples with the logical question arising from Einstein’s theory that time and space can be bent: “What happens if you bend it too far?” An unwitting college class is party to Dr. Sid Munsey’s fanciful experiment, and, through Socratic Q&A, philosophical ponderings, and practical observation, they are finally led—much to Sid’s surprise—to an intriguing conclusion. While there isn’t a lot of action, the dialog is engaging, and the hypotheses are interesting. Some might quibble with the logic of the conclusion (which I won’t spoil here) but overall, “The Thickness of a Warp” is a fresh addition to the time travel genre.

In his intricately woven sci-fi fantasy, “In Castle Montresor,” Jason D. Wittman immerses the reader, through the eyes of Duchess Ligeia, into a fascinating universe of underhanded duchy politics, espionage, and psychic mystery. Ligeia and her husband are hosting a diplomatic conference at Montresor. The Duchess, a secret telepath, discovers a plot to assassinate the Duke and must grapple with how to save him without revealing her identity and derailing the negotiations. Although palace politics are integral to this story, the background details seemed a bit much at times. If not for the introduction of some unique characters and a sense of a larger story developing, this piece could have ended up being a stereotypical swords-in-space tale. As it turns out, the real mystery just gets started when the assassination attempt is finally thwarted. The possibility of this being the first in an open-ended series of stories is a promising one.

I read “A Secret Life of Gluttony” by Joy Marchand as an engagingly surreal and metaphorical exploration of the proverb “knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” Without a parental or relational foundation that grounds Delia and provides a safe environ for her maturation and life direction, this youngster indiscriminately consumes everything (material and intellectual) that comes across her path—starting with a strawberry, her forbidden fruit. Redemption and resolution occur after a necessary purging that prompts Delia to focus on her most basic need, feeding the heart-shaped hole in her soul—not with worldly distractions but with the things that matter most. This visceral and emotive story is what modern allegories should be, a thoughtful and provocative reflection on some of life’s most weighty issues. While the peculiar protagonist and oddball storyline will leave behind a few readers, those who blithely carry on to catch the fakir reference at the end will be rewarded with a tale that indeed satisfies the (literary) appetite in most of us.

David Walton’s “The Rings of Jupiter” competently navigates the rapids of paranoia and claustrophobic disorientation brought on by months of space travel in this near future psychological thriller. The base station, tellingly known as Resolution, is preparing for Andrew’s arrival in Copernicus. After waking from hibernation, Andrew hears his wife, Michelle, already on the station from a previous trip, welcoming him to Jupiter. But is something wrong? Is there fear in her voice? Maybe he isn’t going to reunite with his wife after all; maybe someone is out to kill him. From the opening scene to the final lines, the author keeps the reader off balance, wondering if there really is a conspiracy or if Andrew truly is crazy. The writing is good, if a bit slow at places, and an unforeseen crisis that puts Andrew’s trust to the test adds drama to an otherwise cerebral story. If you like nicely wrapped conclusions, however, you might not be satisfied with the resolution. Andrew surely wasn’t.

“Towfish Blues” by John A. Pitts is a strongly told, sci-fi disaster-survival tale that features a pre-colonization research team that has yet to gel as a working unit. But shared crises have a way of bonding a crew together, although Marta, party chief for the Walsh Corporation backing this expedition, is unaware of the price they will have to pay to begin that process. While the thematic plotline will be familiar to readers of deep space fiction, Pitts, an adept storyteller, keeps us involved with tense and gritty writing. Sturdy characterization for such a short story prompts the reader to quickly identify and care about the crew’s outcome. The author also did a good job dialing up the conflict and danger to the breaking point then releasing the dénouement at just the right moment to allow the reader to experience the same conflict of emotions Marta experienced—relief that this particular job was over, but saddened at the cost. A solidly mainstream sci-fi piece with which to conclude this issue.

Four short poems scattered throughout the issue fit the crevices nicely. “Three Things” by Lisa M. Bradley hints at murder and mystery in five short lines. “God as a Swarm of Bees” by Carma Lynn Park speaks of the yin and yang of the divine touch. “The Night Creatures” by Greg Schwartz is a fun and frightening rhyme that feeds the imagination. And “Rare Flowers” by Mikal Trimm is a creepy treat that will come back to haunt me the next time I enter a greenhouse.

As a whole, I was very impressed with the quality and variety of the seven fiction pieces and four poems featured in this issue of Talebones. The mixed genre approach (from space opera to hard sci-fi to horror, fantasy, and surreal) made for a wonderfully complete buffet that even a casual fan of speculative fiction could enjoy. At the very least, a reader could find a morsel or two that would satisfy that craving for quality short fiction. The speculative poetry was also a nice inclusion and, along with the cover art and excellent illustrations that accompanied every story, enhanced the already exceptional professionalism (I only saw one typo) of this magazine. The only drawback is that this journal is not released on a regular/quarterly basis. The publisher, Patrick Swenson, promises only 2-3 issues a year, which might contribute to the magazine’s ongoing challenge and struggling campaign to solicit new subscribers and stay afloat. Still, a worthy endeavor that deserves as much exposure as the top tier magazines in the industry.