Issue 048 Release!!! Meet Cover Artist Jana Heidersdorf

    “The Snowqueen” by Jana Heidersdorf

    It’s official, dear readers: Issue 048 has left the nest and all sixteen of our spectacular bird-themed stories are flying out into the world! Flutter over to our homepage to read it, or grab a print or digital copy of your very own!

    Along with these stories, we just couldn’t wait to show you the first-class cover art! Artist Jana Heidersdorf was kind enough to give us a glimpse into the inspirations behind her haunting works.

    LSQ: Please tell us about the cover image “The Snowqueen.” Is there a story behind this image? What was your thought process while creating this image?

    Jana: I originally created the artwork as a contribution to the Month of Fear, an annual artist challenge during the month of October started by Kristina Carroll. (I always think of it like the fantasy art community having a decadent, lush masked Halloween ball where we all try to outdo ourselves with the fanciest, creepiest costumes we can come up with.) The theme for that week’s challenge was “Beauty” and since I’m forever fascinated by the blend of beauty and cruelty that perfectly culminates in Winter (the romanticized, fairytale version of it, anyhow)—magical flurries of snowflakes and glittering icicles, but at the same time bitterly cold and deadly—and one of my favorite fairytales is Andersen’s The Snow Queen, I used the opportunity to once again try my hand at the titular character. (Please send all your favorite books containing the “Winter as a person” trope my way! I am mildly obsessed.)
    LSQ: Birds are the theme for this issue, and they seem to appear often in your art. What is it about birds that pulls you in?

    Jana: It’s not necessarily birds in particular, but the local wildlife, particularly wild animals sharing

    “White Raven” by Jana Heidersdorf

    spaces with us. Birds are simply the easiest to observe in the city. I mean I love foxes, and I’ve seen a bushy tail vanish into the bushes once or twice, but it’s different from when I can familiarize myself with all the charming little quirks and behaviorisms of the local crow population. I find everything about them delightful, their stupid strutting and hopping, the fah-fah sound of their wings, them bullying the kestrels, their curious black eyes.

    I also have a much easier time connecting with animals than with people, so sometimes when I’m out and about and I see a wild animal in a public place I feel a physical sense of relief, a sensation of, “Oh, there is still life here.”
    LSQ: Can you tell us a little more about your “dark fairytale sensibilities”? What do you like most about the spookier side of fantasy?
    Jana: I think a big part of why I like fairytales and folklore is that they have room for the sort of romantic nature that is wild, untamed, and as beautiful as it is dangerous – forests that had not had their teeth pulled. There are still nights that are dark enough to see the stars and shadows that are dark enough to hold mysteries, may they be wondrous or fearsome.
    When I was a child I had this fantasy of living in a hollow tree in the forest with a pet squirrel (I blame Astrid Lindgren) and the main appeal of fairytales for me is, I think, that they may not be safe, but at least I get all the hollow trees I want.
    LSQ: Nature plays a big role in your art. Why is it such an inspiration to you? What are some of your other inspirations?

    Jana: Well, we are all natural creatures, aren’t we? Even though, living in our glass and concrete cities, we tend to forget. However, seeing ourselves as something separate is not only dangerous to our environment and our planetary co-habitants and the ultimate survival of our

    “Witch of the Hills” by Jana Heidersdorf

    species, but to us as individuals as well. Simply seeing greenery can have a positive effect on somebody’s well-being, so even those poor dehydrated city trees and manicured lawns are good for something. But for many that’s as good as it gets. I’m a city person that wants to live in a hollow tree. You know how when you’re starving, you’re fantasizing about food? I think I’m just starving.

    LSQ: Do you have a personal favorite of the projects you’ve worked on? Or one that was memorable due to its challenges? If so, can you tell us a bit about it?
    Jana: Well, I love books and book illustration, so I’m chuffed whenever I get to draw a book cover or interiors. Pre-pandemic I got to illustrate dreamy little chapter headers for Juliana Brandt’s The Wolf of Cape Fen, which was an absolute joy to work on. Chapter headers are such intriguing visual teasers and they remind me of so many of my favorite childhood novels and the books my parents read to me. Although I could not actually read the words, I would flip through them and tried to figure out how the story continued by analyzing the chapter header illustrations. Generally I’m most delighted with my work when the artist in me creates something the reader in me loves.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Phoenix Roberts and “Relapse”

    Here it is, dear readers, our final Issue 047 author interview! We have Phoenix Roberts wrapping up with the answers to our questions about her story “Relapse.”

    LSQ: What a delightfully creepy story! The “other” is just hinted at near the beginning, and grows (literally) as your story unfolds. What drew you to this kind of reveal and how did it further your plot?

    Phoenix: Thank you!

    I like horror that waits to show its hand because it’s lightest on the suspension of disbelief ropes. If I were to start off like: “Hello, person reading this story, there’s an evil legion of slugs from the void, the entrance to which is in a soda dispenser, pretty spooky, right?” the person in question would rightly go: “Well, no, not so much spooky as patently absurd, and you clearly don’t take this seriously, so neither will I.” It’s more interesting for all parties involved to non-didactically ask whether we ought to laugh at the absurd or tremble about it.
    LSQ: Your main character ends up comparing different types of hunger: one self imposed, and one imposed on her. What made you choose hunger as the catalyst for this story?

    Phoenix: I got a craving for a story unlike most other intentional-hunger fiction I’ve met, which skews towards the tragic rather than horrific, towards the upper-class-teenage-protagonist, and towards the cause-confident. I’m sure the appeal of writing against a tragic hero narrative of disorder speaks for itself. I’m sure the same is true about the appeal of writing against harmful demographic lies.

    On to the maybe less obvious: something that fascinates me about eating disorders is that, like the rest of being sentient, we don’t understand them as well as we think we do. Like fifty-ish years ago, dudes who got paid to watch people struggle and have opinions about it went: “Clearly this is caused by social pressures to be thin, maybe compounded by childhood trauma and personality type. Investigation over. Well done, boys.”
    Then we found evidence of genetic susceptibility, and the water got all murky, and now we’re back to square one of: “We don’t actually know how or why some people’s brains do this, we only know some stuff that wakes up the propensity for it.” That’s terrifying! Accounting for the terrifying can make it less so. That’s why I didn’t spend words on Katherine’s childhood, or on encounters with purveyors of beauty myths, or any other balms for the unpleasant weirdness of her experience. There was just like this hankering for cause-anxiety and cause-disinterest.

    LSQ: Tell us more about the table and what it means to your MC.

    Phoenix: On-the-nose-ly: meals happen at tables.

    Off-the-nose-ly: one incentive to recover from behavioral health problems is to make room for other stuff. Some people recover to impressive careers, gargantuan accomplishments, instagram-able families, and so on, and that’s sick. Also, though, any expression of dignity and autonomy a recoverer can find in their daily life, which may or may not be conducive to happenings worth writing home about, is equally sick.
    When we overestimate the good times on the other side of most demons, we accidentally lend credence to the internal monologue of: “My material circumstances are such that a life without the problem couldn’t possibly be worth living anyways, so I may as well keep the problem.” It’s better to be honest that for most of us, we just pay too much rent until eventually we don’t, and in the meantime occasionally having some fun is preferable to consorting with a decidedly un-fun beast.
    So Katherine chose DIY carpentry as her way to have some fun. I think that was an excellent choice, and I’m glad that at least for a while she got to do that instead of being hungry.
    LSQ: Is horror a genre you usually write in? What other genres or projects are you drawn to?
    Phoenix: Yes. In my opinion, horror is the very best fun to be had responsibly. I also like fantasy. I have in the past liked drama and poetry, and I guess there’s no way to know for sure that I won’t like those things again. I worry my saying this contradicts the hard-won claims to legitimacy snatched from the jaws of power by people way smarter than myself, but I like horror and fantasy best because they facilitate the silly and ridiculous, which are objectively better qualities than serious or important.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: JL George and “Bluebell Song”

    Our Issue 047 author interviews are coming to a close, but we still have a couple left up our sleeves! Today we bring you JL George’s answers to our questions about “Bluebell Song.”

    LSQ: Having the characters use wax to stuff their ears to block sound reminded me of sailors avoiding the song of the sirens. How much comparison is there between the sirens and the story’s bluebells in beauty and danger? Or is there another origin?

    JL: My mum (who was a librarian until she retired) was always bringing mythology books home from the library for me when I was a kid, and the story of Odysseus and the sirens was one that stuck with me, so that definitely influenced the story to some degree. In British folklore, bluebell woods are enchanted places where the fair folk trap unwary humans in their world, something which seemed rather enticing to me as a fairy-obsessed child! So the story is really a combination of the two. The fascination with something that can be both beneficial and deadly is an old one, going back to the Greek idea of the pharmakon, which is bound up with human sacrifice as well as healing and poison, so I guess there are a lot of cultural ideas floating around that I osmosed at some point and that ended up influencing the story.

    LSQ: As a healer, Achan knows about herbs and medicines. It is interesting that she is relying on a different aspect of healing – music and vision. Is the difference of healing what makes the healing so potent? Or is it more what your MC needs to give up?

    JL: Music can be incredibly life-affirming, and I’m sure it’s saved my life on occasions when my mental health has been bad, so I guess in a way you could call it a kind of medicine. But I think it was more about the idea that magic has a cost, which is incredibly common in fantasy stories. On a smaller scale the cost might just be the ingredients for a spell, or the work that goes into performing it, but power over life and death requires something more.

    LSQ: Achan is very close to her family and desperately wants to help. How much does Mira know about Achan’s ultimate aim?

    JL: I think she knows she’d do just about anything to save her daughter, though maybe she hasn’t thought too much about the implications of that. Not questioning these things too deeply can be a way of protecting ourselves, after all.

    LSQ: The ending leaves a little ambiguity as to the ultimate healing of Tiwan. How much of Achan is living in her daughter? What did her sacrifice buy? Also, what role will the bluebells have in the life of Tiwan in the future?

    JL: Well, the ambiguity’s deliberate, and I don’t want to ruin it by telling people what to think! There’s definitely something a little eerie about Tiwan going forward, maybe some power that she didn’t always have. She seems ready to step into her mother’s shoes as a healer by the time she recovers, but you also probably wouldn’t want to cross her…

    Issue 047 Author Interview: A.M. Faller and “After the Storm”

    Our Issue 047 author interviews are still going strong! Today’s featured author is A.M. Faller, who talked to us about genre, suspense, and ambiguous endings in her story “After the Storm.”
    LSQ: “After the Storm” is SFF, but also part mystery with the discovery of the additional bio-shield and the uncertainty of Aza’s parentage. As an author, how do you add suspense and mystery to an already genred piece?

    A.M.: I love stories that span multiple genres, especially when the story has sci-fi roots. Technology is fantastic—I love it as much as anyone—but I’m much more interested in characters, and characters are going to have things going on in their lives. Suspenseful, horrifying, mysterious, romantic things. Sci-fi is a fantastic way to explore potential futures or to use an alien setting to analyze our present, but in order to get any of those messages across, the characters still need to be doing interesting things. This is a long way of saying that I’m not sure I really thought about mixing suspense and mystery into Aza’s story—it seemed to belong in her world as much as the sand and wind.

    LSQ: The idea of a bio-shield against a raging desert storm is such an interesting one, seeming to link technology with nature. Where did the concept originate for you?

    A.M.: The idea for the bioshields initially came from the fact that trees are a natural sound barrier, and they do a great job of cutting wind, as well. I’m continually impressed with nature’s adaptability and variety, and I love nature-inspired engineering solutions. I like the idea of a moss-like substance acting as a natural filtration system and shield, and it seemed to meld well with a raw, plant-based society like the Capital’s in “After the Storm.”

    LSQ: A turning point for Aza was when she conceded she had been sent into the desert to die, regardless of her skills. It was also when she began to see the people before her in an entirely different light. How did you come up with the idea of the story’s caste system as it applies to Aza?

    A.M.: This is a hard question. There have been several points in my life in which I’ve realized that, no matter how good I am or how hard I try, I’m never going to fit in with some group. I don’t think this is a unique experience. It can be exclusion due to gender, appearance, race, sexuality, age, class, whatever—but you can’t change, and the group isn’t going to accept you the way you are, no matter how great you are. Every time I’ve had it, this realization hurts. It really hurts. (Probably less than being abandoned in the desert to die, but I can’t speak to that specific experience.) I guess that is where the idea for the class/caste system in “After the Storm” came from—being separated into a different (often less valued) group due to an inalterable characteristic isn’t right, and it isn’t fair, but it is a common experience, which makes it worth exploring in a story to me.

    LSQ: The addition of the other cruiser and the mention of more people in the nomadic group seems to end the piece with a hopeful future for Aza. Do you prefer to end your stories with positive outcomes for your characters? Or does it depend on where the story takes you?

    A.M.: I don’t usually write “happy endings.” I think, so far, I’ve written a few stories that end ambiguously at best, but mostly I tend to write darker endings. This is a bit ironic since I prefer to read stories with happy endings. Then again, one of my favorite endings in the world is the conclusion of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, which I read as mostly terrible with just a splash of hope. I definitely like ending with a hint of positivity at least, but I haven’t yet had a story that led me to a full-blown “happily ever after,” either. I guess I like ending stories similarly to real life—things so rarely wrap themselves up in nice, neat packages with all the ends properly tucked away and all the emotions in a pleasant, cohesive line. I think I like my story endings to be a bit open, to ask the reader what they want to happen next, and to give them a wide spectrum of emotions to choose from.

    F&SF Nov Dec 2021 cover

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    Just received this photo of the new Nov./Dec. issue of F&SF with the cover illustration by Maurizio Manzieri for Nalo Hopkinson’s new story and could not resist posting it here:

    Issue 047 Author Interview: J.M. Phillippe and “The Skulk”

    You know what today needs? Another Issue 047 author interview. Good thing we just so happen to have one! Today’s spotlight is on J.M. Phillippe and her story “The Skulk“.

    LSQ: Devlyn is terrified of Sael because he believes he is her servant. How does discovering he is her apprentice change their relationship?

    J.M.: Devlyn starts the story with a very low opinion of himself, reinforced by this idea that his family has sort of abandoned him to this stranger—this terrifying, powerful stranger—because they can’t afford to keep him. When he realizes that Sael chose him to be her apprentice long ago, he sees himself in a much more positive light. He goes from feeling like a burden to feeling like he’s special. As he starts to see Sael as a mentor instead of a master, the power dynamic completely shifts, and he finally can see how much she cares about him. It lets Devlyn be hopeful about his future in a way that he wasn’t before.

    LSQ: Your world is a richly magical one that contains many levels. When you imagined this world, what were the most important elements? Which were your favorite elements?

    J.M.: It was important to build a setting that could look both imposing and beautiful so that the magic in my world could layer on top of it in a way that hopefully feels very natural. I loved creating a world with things that are both familiar and strange, adding a supernatural edge to animals that are already delightful, and throwing a mythical flower in among more common herbs. My favorite part was using Devlyn’s perspective and shifting feelings to show this same place as imposing, then mystical, and finally comfortable when he realizes it’s his home.

    LSQ: Clever animal stories are always fascinating and the skulk sound just like the sort of allies an Apothecary would like to have. Were they based on a particular magic creature? Or just the wily reputation of the fox?

    J.M.: I definitely built on the wily reputation of the fox to write “The Skulk.” I was looking up facts about foxes and learned that a group of foxes is called a skulk, which just sounded like something out of a fairytale to me, and inspired me to think about a magical version of the fox. Foxes are often shown as tricksters in legends and fairytales, sometimes malicious, sometimes benign, but always very clever. I wanted my version to have all those same attributes plus additional abilities, the kind of creatures that would be the perfect allies of a witch. I also wanted them to be somewhat unpredictable and with motives and desires of their own. I liked the idea that magic was something you win over and work with rather than demand or control, and the skulk in my story represent that.

    LSQ: What are your favorite genres and concepts to write in?

    J.M.: As a social worker, I was taught to put human behavior in the social environment, understanding how their environment impacts the choices people make. So as a writer, I love playing with the interaction between setting and character, how the places we occupy can change how we see other people and ourselves. The more fantastical the setting, the more there is for a character to react to and navigate. It’s why I love writing fantasy and science-fiction because it lets me imagine how human behavior can look when we change other elements. You can start with a very wild “what if…?” and then still find very relatable characters because they represent that greater thing that makes humans human, no matter what kind of world they live in.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Amy Bennett and “Elixir of Life”

    In today’s installment of Issue 047 author interviews, we bring you “Elixir of Life,” a detective story set in space! Read on to see where Amy Bennett found her inspiration.

    LSQ: Wow, what a twist! I’m stunned and thrilled in equal measure. I wish the story was longer—I didn’t want to leave this world so soon. Have you written other stories set on Black Agora Space Station?

    Amy: Thank you! “Elixir of Life” was initially meant to be a much bigger story involving more of the struggle between the mafia gangs (that Sergio and Kenji belonged to) and the Titan Corporation for control of the elixir drug. It got a bit complicated, though, so I had to trim it back, otherwise I would’ve definitely blown it out to a novella length. I think I like the ambiguous finality of Carina’s story, though, and I wouldn’t return to the world. But it certainly inspired me to tap into writing more about the stars and spaceships we chase in sci-fi.

    LSQ: You do a great job of creating well-rounded characters in such a tight space. I’d love to know more about them, especially the enigmatic Theia. Which character came to you first as you thought about this story?

    Amy: It was definitely Carina who came to me first. A jaded, tough-talking detective with a penchant for falling for femme fatales—but set in space!—was such a fun idea to play with, and I had her world-weary voice pinned down from the start. There is a formula to private eyes we see in books or movies, so it really was just a process of fleshing her out as someone who lives on Agora. Theia, too, was really quite easy to conceptualize. I liked how little screen time she got. She was equal parts alluring and aloof; something like a dream, or a brief moment of awful clarity, lingering in Carina’s memory.

    LSQ: This story has such a noir feel, and I love your hardboiled detective character. What made you decide to blend noir with science fiction? Did you draw inspiration from any other stories or authors in particular?

    Amy: It really came down to what media I was consuming at the time—crime novels and podcasts—and being in a stage of wanting to experiment with writing beyond my usual go-to fantasy. It was just a little glowing ember of inspiration that sparked into life when I was listening to the wry narration of Juno Steel, a Mars-bound private eye, in The Penumbra Podcast. I just hadn’t really entertained the idea of hardboiled crime in a sci-fi setting, or that it could work so well, and I fell right into the secret, mystifying gap between the merging of the two genres. And I don’t think I can ignore the pop culture importance of 1982’s Blade Runner, too, with imprinting such a vivid image of a futuristic world onto me. That kind of revolting harmony between urban and alien settings really helped to work out Black Agora Space Station, create a tone, and develop the world—or universe—beyond it.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Olga Kolesnikova and “The Silent Decades”

    Just can’t get enough of our Issue 047 author interviews? Neither can we! Today we’re bringing you Olga Kolesnikova’s answers to our burning questions about their story “The Silent Decades.”

    LSQ: I love reading stories in different formats from the norm, and these have got to be the most fascinating endnotes ever. How did you decide on this format?

    Olga: I wrote this story for my university course; the assignment was (surprise, surprise) to tell a story in an unusual format. Studying literary theory involves poring over endnotes and compiling bibliographies, and that’s what gave me the idea. I liked the challenge of telling a speculative story through this seemingly dry format. In fact, it seemed so dry that when I shared the idea with my supervisor, he doubted that it could work. I’m glad I believed in it enough to do it anyway!

    LSQ: Did the format influence the decision of what kind of story to tell, or did you have the story idea percolating and think of the unique format as a secondary consideration?

    Olga: The format came first. Once I decided to use a bibliography of some kind to tell a story, I looked at the endnotes in random books at the library for inspiration. Reading only the endnotes of history books left me with these strange, fragmented impressions of the past events the books were describing. I was inspired to create something similar, but with events from both the past and the imagined future.

    LSQ: I wish I could read that Rosie Sherwood book now. What was the hardest part about telling this story? Do you have a favorite endnote?

    Olga: It would definitely be fascinating to read “a new literary genre”! The hardest part would have to be the research I had to do for Part 1 of the story. Many of these first notes allude to real events, and I wanted to make sure I had the facts right and that the events appeared in mostly chronological order. But adding fictional future commentary to these factual events was a lot of fun! It was also difficult to decide whether or not to refer to the near future, as this could potentially lessen the story’s impact for anyone reading it in a few years – but then I thought about 1984 and 2001: A Space Odyssey. As for a favorite endnote, I’d have to go with 34, because it might be the creepiest one!

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Jennifer Lee Rossman and “The Good Girl”

    Today’s Issue 047 author interview is both seasonally appropriate and gender explorative! Pull up a chair with us as we talk with Jennifer Lee Rossman about “The Good Girl.”

    LSQ: Wow, this packs so much emotion into such a short space! I love how “good girl” comes to mean so many different things, and the way the vampire transformation varies so much depending on who’s turned. What gave you the idea for this story?

    Jennifer: Questions like these always make me laugh because I want to give you some deep and profound answer… but really, it was a joke I made on Twitter about how the Tom Petty song “Free Fallin’” is about a transgender vampire.

    The main character in the music video never ages, even though it seems like decades have passed based on clothing styles. And while you see the reflection of the “good girl” in the photo at the beginning, you never see Tom Petty’s reflection even though he’s around a lot of glass and mirrors, which made me think the vampires mentioned in one line could be literal, not metaphorical. Once the “good girl” starts hanging out with them, dressing more androgynously, that’s when “she” got bit, realized he was a bad boy all along, and began his transition into the transmasculine person played by Tom Petty.
    LSQ: This is a perfect example of how a main character doesn’t need a name or detailed physical description to still be intriguing and impactful. How much do you know about this bad boy, and how did you decide how much to share?

    Jennifer: I know absolutely as much as I wrote.

    Songs are a different kind of storytelling than traditional fiction writing, but they still manage to convey all the information you need with far fewer words than most authors would need to do the same. I think going into a story with the intention of matching it with a song, it lets the brain forget about explaining and describing.
    Songs don’t tend to give you backstory. They just drop you in and tell you some pretty words that make you feel things. This story did that to me; just gave me some pretty words without much explanation as to what happened before or after.
    LSQ: Could you see yourself turning this short story into a longer exploration of this character and world?

    Jennifer: Maybe not this character or this world specifically, but I’m always ready to explore gender via monster stories.

    I’ve recently been able to finally put words to the way I’ve felt all my life, and I have realized I am nonbinary. I often call myself a guy because that’s the easiest way to describe it, but it’s more of a fluid thing that spends a lot of time on the masculine side but still dips towards the feminine side. And when you’re like me, comfortable in both worlds but knowing you’re still not entirely from either, that lends itself to a lot of monster allegories. I wouldn’t be surprised if I write more stories about bad boys who thought they were good girls, good girls who knew they were never bad boys but didn’t know how to change, and those people in the middle who are good and bad and neither.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Kit Harding and “Gentle Ways to Kill a Dragon”

    We’re still excited about Issue 047 and we hope you are, too! Today we’re pleased to share our interview with Kit Harding about her story “Gentle Ways to Kill a Dragon.”

    LSQ: This story was so enjoyable, and the revelation of the lengths Ella went to to kill the dragon using her own body was so startling! How did you come up with the idea of the consequences that combining willow root tea and dragonsbane would have?

    Kit: That one is actually a completely utilitarian writing choice! Very rationally sitting there going “Gregor needs to know what Ella did for the plot to progress, she’s not going to tell him, how can I push the issue?” and my doctors were starting to talk about putting me on some meds that carry a firm “don’t mix with alcohol” warning, so “drug interactions bad” was fresh in my mind.

    LSQ: Ella went through something so intense, and so terribly relatable. Was it difficult to write about what she’d been through?

    Kit: Of course it’s difficult. I’m a very character-driven writer; it’s part of why so many of my stories are in the first person, or at the very least thoroughly confined to one person’s head. But that means I’m spending a lot of time in Ella’s head, thinking about what’s driving her, and she’s not in a good place. I’ve found that writing, at least for me, requires me to channel all of the emotions of the character much as stage acting does. And that means maintaining a certain malleability of my own emotional state… which also means I put myself through a lot of emotional roils, particularly since I need to hold Gregor’s mental state as well. Which means I’m simultaneously very deep in the head of someone in the throes of a serious PTSD episode and someone who’s just found out his best friend had something horrible happen to her and he can’t do anything about it and he can’t show any of his reaction to it because he needs to be supportive of her.

    LSQ: Part of me wishes we found out what happened to the dragon (and the dragon hunter, that jerk) and part of me likes that the story ends on a more personal, human-centric note. How did you decide where to stop this story?

    Kit: You’re assuming anything did happen to the dragon hunter. Remember that this village is composed of the kind of people who have no compunctions about hoping the dragon kills someone else’s livestock rather than give up one of their own to definitively get rid of it. Ella establishes in the story that no one is going to believe her (or, y’know, care), and telling Gregor doesn’t change that nobody else particularly cares. Which is sadly all too often reflective of reality.

    But as far as where I decided to stop goes… well. The genesis of this story was the sheer number of times I have seen in media someone confessing their traumatic event to a true friend and then they’re fine! They talked about it so now they’re past it! And that is not remotely how PTSD works. I wanted to write one where someone talks about their trauma, decides to live, and then it’s clear that there’s a long road ahead to really heal. Ella’s not going to be fine if they kill the dragon and she’s unlikely to see any true justice for what happened to her, and she knows that. The climax of the story is her decision to try to live anyway, despite that. After that comes long years of gradual change, and continuing to another reasonable stopping place would require an entire novel.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Allison Mulder and “The Backwards Princess of Unusual Parentage”

    Today’s Issue 047 author interview is for all the fairy tale lovers out there! Allison Mulder is here to give us the scoop on how to approach writing a fresh fairy tale like “The Backwards Princess of Unusual Parentage.”

    LSQ: This was an absolutely brilliant use of the magic mirror trope! Where did the idea for the mirror men and their magic come from?

    Allison: This story was first drafted in 2016, and I’m afraid the original story seed may be lost to time. However, I’ve always been interested in fairy tales and their retellings, changeling and doppelganger folklore, that kind of thing. If I reverse engineer the story concept, it likely grew out of wondering something like either, “What if a queen fell in love with her magic mirror?” or, “Why would a fairy tale charlatan even want a firstborn child anyway?”

    I respect authors with very organized worldbuilding and plotting strategies, who can fill charts and story bibles with details before they even begin to write…I respect it because I usually cannot do that. My story-building approach is often a lot of If…thens. If I’ve decided X is true halfway through a draft, that means Y must have happened to make that possible–so those choices ripple out to the rest of the story. If a queen did fall in love with her mirror, clearly their child would be left-handed and extremely skilled at reading backwards. How could a mirror even have a child? Well, the queen must have made the sort of magical deal worth promising her firstborn for. Why would anyone want a queen’s firstborn child? Well, clearly, as anyone could guess, there must be one thousand sorcerers holed up in a mirror world, hoarding magic but needing somebody to act as their go-between in both a physical and political sense–and I bet those sorcerers would be very angry if the queen failed to hold up her end of the deal…

    I find what story-logic makes sense to me, then try to smooth out the rough edges until it will seem perfectly reasonable to the reader, too.

    LSQ: Which fairy tale tropes did you find were crucial for this story? Which ones do you reject?

    Allison: As I said, I love changelings and doppelgangers, the whole concept of mirror-worlds, and that definitely influenced the imagery with the mirror-men, and the firstborn royals who sometimes come back a little…different. I’m also interested in deals with the devil–trades that can give a character everything but also bring them so close to ruin.

    I drew on Snow White and Sleeping Beauty for some things–the existence of the magic mirror, the idea of trying to hide away everything that might trigger a princess’s curse, like hiding every spindle in the kingdom lest the princess prick her finger. But the magic mirror’s owner in this story isn’t evil, there’s no prince to speak of, and the “curse” plaguing the princess didn’t come from any personal grudges or that kind of thing. It’s the consequence of a deal her parents walked into willingly–playing off the idea that magic always has a cost. Whether the sorcerers were offering a fair asking price is a whole other question…

    In the end, I think this tale grew into its own new thing. At least in my opinion, I wouldn’t call it a Snow White or Sleeping Beauty retelling, though the inspirations are definitely still present. It’s a mish-mash of tropes I like and topics that interest me, and I’m still personally very fond of the result.

    LSQ: What do you think are some things people should consider when writing a fairy tale-esque story?

    Allison: One of my favorite things to do in fiction is take a familiar or seemingly overdone story, and find a new way to tell it. “What could make this interesting again?” “What’s an angle I’ve never seen considered?” I love zeroing in on side characters or minor plot points and making them the center of a story. Or even just considering what might have happened way before the Once Upon a Time, or long after the Happily Ever After.

    Fairy tales and the style they’re written in can be a fun jumping off point, but don’t feel too bound to what exists already. I think there’s a lot of room for originality and fresh perspectives–especially coming from writers who’ve been underrepresented previously. How can you tell this story in the way only you can tell it? Try telling the same story twice, but differently! Splice things together, or veer off completely… Some of my favorite retellings are the ones practically unrecognizable from the source material. That said, reinventing the wheel isn’t always necessary. What interests you about the style or story you’re drawing from? What makes you pick up a story you may have heard a thousand times, “But now I’m going to tell it my way.”

    LSQ: Are there any other projects you’re currently working on? If so, could you tell us a bit about them?

    I tend to jump around from story to story, so I have many shorts and novel projects in the pipeline, which I’m slowly chipping away at until they’re presentable for other humans. Lately I’ve been in the mood for a lot of science fiction, and eerie horror-leaning tales, and sometimes the intersection between the two.

    Also ghosts. Lots and lots of ghost stories, some scary, some not, each with a different world-building schtick. Earlier in this interview I mentioned finding new angles on familiar concepts? I could someday fill a very weighty anthology with all the times I’ve excitedly burst into a new Word document like, “I found a new way ghosts are!”

    But then again, all this talk of fairy tales has me thinking maybe it’s time to revisit that old project about what happens long, long after the events of Rapunzel…

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Anna Martino and “Dashing, Through the Spaceship”

    Today’s Issue 047 author interview is for all the dog-lovers out there! Come join us as we chat with Anna Martino about what happens when you put a dog in space, like in “Dashing, Through the Spaceship“.

    LSQ: This story brings to mind those kinds of writing exercises that instruct you to write about a common object as if you’ve never seen it before, or to describe it to aliens with no knowledge of it. What kind of tactics did you have to employ to capture Martedi’s first experience with a dog?

    Anna: The shock that Martedi feels upon meeting a dog comes from my experience seeing a cow up close for the first time, at age six. Having seen them only on TV and in books, I thought cows were way smaller than they actually were, and was absolutely freaked out when faced with the real, smelly, and rather immense article! (much to my father’s amusement — he grew up in the countryside, after all) I also drew from family lore: I have an aunt who has a phobia of birds. To her fear, a hummingbird poses the same threat as a vulture… I reckon Martedi’s mind works in the same fashion, hence his less-than-stellar reactions when he first meets Dashing.

    It is an interesting exercise to describe things as if you never saw it, though I must confess it took me a long time to come up with an explanation that would make sense to Martedi’s mind, taking into consideration his limited repertoire and the place he came from. For a person who was born and raised in an artificial environment, talking about “fur” or “tails” is the same thing about talking about aircraft engines to me. I can understand the general dynamics, but you’ll lose me at the specifics.

    LSQ: What starts out as a sort of quiet story about an old Commander dying peacefully turns into a suspenseful burst of action. What made you want to blend the two together? How did this story take shape?

    Anna: I had the idea for this story after a friend joked there should be a SFF anthology featuring dogs in space. This friend is a Hard SF writer, so I reckon they thought about Laika and the Space Race — but the first idea that came to me was “a Daschund living its best life in a spaceship” (because my first pet was a Daschund and because, let’s face it: a Doxie in a space suit is quite the endearing thought.)

    I entertained the idea for a while, and then came the realization that “pets in space” will probably be a loaded subject for our descendants. If/when our species conquers outer space, one can suppose that resources like food and oxygen will be limited, so it wouldn’t make sense to breed dogs or cats for the pleasure and the company. I mean, we can imagine artificial food substituting meat and poultry… And yet, can we really picture ourselves without pets? Electronic devices that imitate cats and dogs or birds are interesting, but no match for the real article. From here, lots of possible plots can stem: who decides what would make up a “pet” in such a scenario (e.g. cats and dogs ok, but what about lizards or spiders?) How much would it cost? How would you feed it? From this viewpoint, I imagined how it would be like to live in this particular future without domestic animals — and thus poor ensign Martedi, who doesn’t know a cow from a Daschund, came about.

    I soon realized this story wasn’t only about Commander Silva’s last wish, but also about power — we see this in Commander Silva’s peaceful death and Costa’s familiarity with dogs, both privileges resulting from monetary and class advantage points. We see it in the lack of power to decide one’s destiny (remember, Martedi only signed up for the Fleet because it was that or road building on Mars. His lack of knowledge about Earthly matters isn’t a deficiency on his part, it is systemic). And where there is this limited power to possess and limited power to choose, you have tension. What happens when you add something like a pet — cute and loaded with sentimental value, but also a sign of this invisible power — into this equation?

    The catalysts for this tension happened to be Lt. Costa and Lt. Camargue, bickering siblings to the end — and like it happened to the quintessential bickering siblings, Cain and Abel, blood had to be spilled. Therefore, this burst of action came to me as a natural response to the power dynamics inside the ship, and in their society. When you want something — when you feel entitled to something, because or in spite of your position, your background or your gender — and then you are denied…this could only end in tears.

    LSQ: Where do you see Martedi going from here? Would you ever revisit him and his newfound friendship with Pereira and Dashing?

    Anna: Martedi has a lot to learn in the Living History community, so I imagine his next years will be quite eventful. I mean, if he freaked out with a Daschund, imagine his reaction when he meets a Saint Bernard! (And since we have Dachshunds in space, why not Saint Bernards or Golden Retrievers?) I would love to revisit him and see how he is dealing with the bereavement animals, and of course how his life with Pereira and Dashing came about. Perhaps he can become a space vet or an advocate for therapy animals for the Martian outposts. Who knows? The possibilities are endless, and his heart is in the right place, even when he runs his mouth when nervous…though I have a feeling Pereira will cure him of that quickly!

    LSQ: A difficult question, no doubt, but what are your favorite breeds of dog?

    Anna: I’m fond of corgis and greyhounds, and also have a soft spot for the meme-famous Brazilian “vira-lata caramelo” (caramel mutt), which is as close to a national breed as my home nation will ever have. But really, all dogs are beautiful! 🙂

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Lisa Short and “Revenant”

    Still making your way through Issue 047? Have you read “Revenant” yet? Do go treat yourself to this eerie read, then find out what author Lisa Short had to say about the writing process and her inspirations.
    LSQ: The setting, along with the narrator’s identity, isn’t directly given to the readers, but rather hinted at throughout the story. What is your advice for revealing just enough information for readers to piece together without giving the mystery away?
    Lisa: Recently, I was engaging in a round-robin group critique exercise in a writing group that I’m casually part of–one of my critiquers came back to me (about a different story, not the one published in LSQ) with an observation that I found pretty interesting: “You definitely write for readers who really dig that immersive vibe, where they’re dropped in and left to pick up the clues while folding themselves into the world.” And it’s true, that’s definitely my preferred style of writing! My two biggest pieces of advice for anyone who wants to write this way in particular, are (a) commit to either first person or one single, limited third person point of view for the entire story and (b) when you’re writing it, as much as you can, try to be the narrator–imagine that this entire event is unfolding before your very eyes, heard through your own ears, smelled through your nose, etc.–it’s happening to you, and share that experience as comprehensively as you can with your words.
    LSQ: How did this story come to you? Was it the eerie setting that begged to tell a story, the image of a woman becoming an operating mechanism for a shelter? How did it all come together?
    Lisa: I’ve had this story idea for a long, long time–so long I’m not even sure where the original idea sprang from! Part of it does spring from the unavoidable observation that whenever we have humanlike AIs in stories, whether humanform AIs or not–whenever they’re ostensibly “female,” and if they have any kind of individuality at all, they’re almost inevitably sexualized in some way. (There are a few notable exceptions to this–Adrian Tchaikovsky’s Children of Time does an excellent job confounding this.). Only ostensibly “male” humanlike AIs seem to get to often break that mold–and I wanted to break it with this particular character. And then–I work with databases a lot in my day job, and I started to wonder, what would it really be like to share your consciousness with an enterprise data warehouse and analytical reporting tool? (Clearly I spend too much time with them, to be wondering that…)
    LSQ: The empty Enclave, while tragic, also has great horror vibes. Do you have experience writing horror stories? How might this story have been different if Selina could remember what happened to everybody?
    Lisa: I do have experience writing horror stories! My very first pro-market sale was actually horror flash fiction, and I am a member of the Horror Writers Association. I think the character of Selina would have been very different if she had fully regained her sense of self, her consciousness, at any time point in the past–since she didn’t, all she had for past memories were in the database table, stored as objects, not instinctively indexed in any way easily accessible to her, so she hasn’t really changed as a person from the moment of her “death.” If she had been alive and aware for all those centuries–who knows who she might have become by the time the story takes place?
    LSQ: Who and what inspires your writing?
    Lisa: This is such a hard question to answer–I’ve been an avid reader all my life, and the homes I lived in were always full of speculative fiction. I think my stepdad’s comic book and paperback collection were probably my first true “writer” inspirations–in fact, the first full-length story I ever wrote, at age eight, was a gender-swapped and shameless plagiarism of Edgar Rice Burrough’s Tarzan, Lord of the Apes. So I was definitely heavily inspired by those (often pulpy, but still!).  My mother, on the other hand, was a huge Stephen King and Ursula K. LeGuin fan, so I absorbed everything I could from those masters of the art very early on, as well as melodramatic tales of broadswords-and-blasters science fiction and weird fantasy.

    Issue 047 Author Interview: Rebecca Burton and “No Place Like Home”

    Welcome, dear readers, to our Issue 047 author interviews! Strap in, because it’s going to be a long ride! Rebecca Burton is here to start us off with answers to our questions about her story “No Place Like Home“.

    LSQ: I love a good found family trope, so I greatly appreciated that Saffi, Horse, and Augie treated each other like family. Do you find yourself gravitating toward this dynamic often in your writing? What, in your opinion, makes it a good trope?

    Rebecca: Yes, definitely. Looking back through my writing over the last four years, almost everything I have written has been about belonging – finding a place or a purpose or people you belong to/with – and often that is expressed through building a found family.

    I think it’s a very human thing to seek belonging and acceptance. But it is especially strong in those of us who have always known we were “different” (even if it took us decades to work out why). I suppose the hope is that, if we can find someone, or several someones, who can accept and love us how we really are, maybe we can learn to do the same. (Although, sadly I’m not sure it’s as simple as that – we still have to do the work to clear out all the crud we’ve picked up and carry around in our own minds.)

    Building a found family can be hard – my own is scattered across the globe, and some of them I’ve never even met in person – but fiction gives us the chance to explore and remember what we’re searching for and that, however impossible it might sometimes seem, we can find our people if we keep looking.

    LSQ: You utilize flashbacks several times throughout this story. What are the pros of telling the story this way instead of in a linear fashion? Are there any cons?

    Rebecca: Ooh, interesting question. I’m not the best person to ask about craft – I tend to bulldoze my way through on instinct and hope, rather than technical knowledge! But let me see if I can dredge some rationale out of the soup that is my mind.

    I tend to struggle with doing much of anything in a linear fashion (thanks ADHD…) – writing,
    conversations, life – everything goes off on a tangent as one thing reminds me of another and next thing you know you’re talking about pterosaurs, or the etymology of Korean words, or obscure UK VAT cases. (No? Just me?)

    A pro of using this kind of interleaved past-present structure, for me, it that is sets limits. Each section needs to feed off the one before and inform the next, as well as have its own point and purpose. It could feel constricting but, instead, it gives my brain a challenge it can get its teeth into and helps me focus.

    The con is, of course, that you do have to make sure that each section does all of that and, if it doesn’t, there may be a lot of rewriting in your future until you get it right…

    I also think, psychologically, this type of structure is useful way to tell a story. We are all a product of our pasts and our experiences, and this structure allows us to explore how that can influence our actions in the present in a different way to having shorter flashbacks imbedded within a narrative. The past has more space to breathe and, sometimes, we need to return to it and spend time with it in order to be able to move forward, like Saffi learns to do.

    LSQ: Why was it important for you to tell a story where the main character chooses her own path rather than try and salvage her relationship? I feel like we don’t often see characters make that choice, even when it’s clear the relationship isn’t working.

    Rebecca: The short, but not necessarily helpful, answer is that it was what Saffi needed.

    I love all my characters, even the “villains”, and as much as I have to put them in difficult situations (because there is no story if everyone gets along) I still always, always want them to find a way to be happy, or at least to grow as people. Saffi had spent most of her adult life following Di’s whims or doing what she was “supposed” to do. She needed to learn to choose for herself.

    The longer answer – why did I chose to write this character who needed to learn this lesson – would probably involve me going back to therapy and spending several weeks digging to find the answer buried in my sub-conscious! (And the answer is probably that I need to learn this lesson too.)

    LSQ: Are there any other projects you’re currently working on? If so, could you tell us a bit about them?

    Rebecca: Always too many!

    Novel-wise, I’m looking for an agent for my YA fantasy about a cursed girl who lives in a circus full of ghosts, who is looking for a place she belongs and almost finds it in the wrong person. (This is the book I wrote for 16 year old me, who didn’t understand why she never fit in, and looked for belonging in all the wrong places. I hope one day I get to share it with other kids like me who need to know they are okay and they are not alone.)

    I’m also editing an Adult SF novel about a former alcoholic star-ship captain with PTSD, about to lose his ship and his crew, who discovers that his estranged father is trying to take over the galaxy. Then his ex-wife turns up and demands he helps her rescue the daughter he hasn’t seen in fifteen years, who just so happens to be a scientist on the space station his father is using as a base… He has three days to stop a galactic civil war, save his daughter and keep his crew. It’s about blood family and found family, and learning to navigate childhood trauma and relationship issues – but in space, with explosions!

    Short fiction-wise, I am currently working on a novelette about music idols being replaced by virtual replicas and what happens when those replicas spontaneously achieve sentience, and short fiction about a demiro-ace forest witch, her pansexual axe-wife and the baby swamp monster they adopt. (It’s just found families all the way down…)

    Hopefully some or all of these will eventually make it out into the world for your reading
    pleasure!

    Issue 047 Release!!! Meet Cover Artist Amagoia Agirre

    “Woodlands” by Amagoia Agirre

    We’re kicking off our third quarter with another whopper–Issue 047 has 19 phenomenal speculative fiction tales by emerging woman-identifying authors! You can read it online, or snag a print or digital copy for yourself. And of course, what would a new issue of LSQ be without a fantastic piece of cover art? This time our cover has been graced by Amagoia Agirre, who took a moment to chat with us about art!

    LSQ: Please tell us about the cover image “Woodlands.” Is there a story behind this image? How did you decide on all the different elements in this art?

    Amagoia: When I first started drawing this piece my idea was to portray an autumn forest inspired by a beautiful place not very far from where I live. I decided to add some storytelling to it: a character who looks back as she leaves unscratched from some kind of battlefield. The sword in the corner hints at some kind of confrontation outside of the picture for the viewer to wonder about.

    I usually draw armored women with swords, but this time I wanted her to be a powerful mage who wouldn’t have the need for a weapon. She leaves surrounded by a protective shield, a greenish blue that contrasts with the rest of the picture.

    LSQ: Nature plays a major role in many of your pieces. What is it about nature that draws

    “Foliage” by Amagoia Agirre

    you in and makes you want to capture it in your art?

    Amagoia: I love spending time outdoors, away from the city. I’ve practiced hiking for almost all my life, both as sport and as a stress-relieving hobby; I spend a considerable time observing plants, trees and even rocks.

     I feel like nature is the place we can always come back to and reconnect with ourselves, and so, I like to reflect that on my art. Many of my art pieces consist of characters strolling or relaxing in the woods, which is something I very much relate to and probably why I enjoy so much drawing them.

    LSQ: Women with swords and in armor also appear often in your work. What about this image do you find so appealing?

    Amagoia: Medieval castles, armors, and swords have been of my interest since I was young. Most references in pop culture about medieval knights involve men. However, what fascinated me was the idea of the female knight: strong female characters which combine elegance and power. This is a topic I’ve touched many times in my art as I focus mostly on fantasy and it is something that I always come back to from time to time.

    “Under the greenwood tree” by Amagoia Agirre

    LSQ: When did you realize you wanted to focus on fantasy in your art? Did you start out as a fantasy artist, or have you noticed changes over time? Please tell us a bit about your art journey!

    Amagoia: I’ve never considered myself a very imaginative person; as a fact, my drawings as a child didn’t include any fantasy element. It wasn’t until I developed an interest in sci-fi and fantasy genres that my art started to turn that way. The moment I started reading fantasy books (The Lord of the Rings was a huge influence when I was a teen) my art became more fantasy centered. I discovered the joy of drawing scenes and characters from the books I loved and this eventually evolved into creating my own fantasy pieces. It was a natural evolution for me, as I started consuming the genre, I also began producing it.

    LSQ: Do you have a personal favorite of the projects you’ve worked on? Or one that was memorable due to its challenges? If so, can you tell us a bit about it? 

    Amagoia: There’s this short comic called Blanco color NADA (White color NOTHING in Spanish) which I drew in collaboration with a writer colleague. It is the first comic project I managed to complete, thus an important milestone, and it feels so personal even though I didn’t write it myself. It also mixes some of my preferred topics (women in armor, nature, and fantasy are all in

    “Ellemay” by Amagoia Agirre

    there of course) and it was such a joy to work on. Even though it is not perfect, it is a project I’m most proud of.

    Issue 046 Author Interview: Hesper Leveret and “We Who Are Left On This Dying Earth”

    Have you been loving the wealth of Issue 046 author interviews these past few months? We certainly have! Here’s another to add to the collection; today we’re talking with Hesper Leveret about her story “We Who Are Left On This Dying Earth“.
    LSQ: You mention that Cyrus and Jolene are unlikely flatmates for a different time, though the great equalizer is climate change and their inability to leave the earth. As soft spoken and introspective as they both are, do you think they would have been at least acquaintances under different circumstances?
    Hesper: No – they’re very much from different backgrounds and generations, so it’s unlikely they’d have ever met if circumstances were different. But that’s part of what I wanted to explore with this story- how two people with seemingly nothing in common can end up feeling like family.
    LSQ: Your story includes chilling, but specific details of an age when the earth is past hope for habitation, including an Antarctic diaspora and the need to hand pollinate plants. Is there a specific detail that was more difficult to write about? Did you leave any thoughts out?
    Hesper: The detail about hand-pollination of plants came from an article about human reliance on bees for pollinating food crops and how mass extinction of bees could lead to humans having to do all this very labor-intensive work by hand. That image really stuck with me – an example of how just growing the food to survive could become extremely difficult. I didn’t purposefully leave anything out – I wanted a few vivid details to tell the larger story.
    LSQ: Jolene briefly mulls about the point of continuing, save for Cyrus. What does this say about your characters? Any thoughts on the tenacity of humanity as a whole?
    Hesper: Humans have an astonishing capacity for continuing, even in the direst of circumstances, but we can also succumb to despair. Another thing I wanted to explore with this story was how that battle between tenacity and despair can play out not just at moments of obvious crisis but also during quieter times. Jolene is elderly and sees little left for her – but she has Cyrus, and she recognizes that they need each other.
    LSQ: Regardless of their circumstances and the message Cyrus must deliver, Jolene breaks out the last bottle of champagne. The emotional impact of being left behind can’t be understated, but there remains a bittersweet celebration of being alive. How important was the idea of marking this event to the story?
    Hesper: I think a lot of events that humans mark ultimately boil down to a bittersweet celebration of being alive – most obviously funerals and somber anniversaries, but even things like weddings can be bittersweet occasions as we think of the people who should have been there. There’s also a sense that you shouldn’t hang onto things for too long – you have to drink that last bottle of champagne sometime. With this story, I wanted to show a snapshot of people whose lives are tough, who have been left behind, but haven’t entirely lost all hope, or the chance of happiness.