As the month comes to a close, I thought I would share some of the praise Queers Destroy Fantasy! has received from reviewers. I suppose I won’t sound impartial if I say it’s well-deserved, but, in all seriousness, this is a killer issue, featuring some excellent stories and truly gorgeous artwork, and I’m honored to be in such good company.
Over at Quick Sip Reviews, Charles Payseur says of the issue, “These are stories of longing and love, violence and tenderness. They are not about queerness so much as they let their queerness subvert and, yes, destroy.”
Lois Tilton at Locus, calls Queers Destroy Fantasy! “a superior issue in this series, definitely the best of them I’ve seen.”
Bridget McKinney, writing for SF Bluestocking, agrees, saying: “Queers Destroy Fantasy has, hands down, the best fiction in any of the Destroy issues so far.”
David Steffen also reviewed the issue of PodCastle featuring my story from QFD!, “The Lady’s Maid”, at SF Signal.
I’m delighted beyond words to say I have a story, “The Lady’s Maid”, in Queers Destroy Fantasy!
I’m pleased the story’s found a home in such a great series, and in good company, too: there are stories by Catherynne M. Valente and Caitlín R. Kiernan, among others, as well as bunch of great essays from the likes of Keguro Macharia and Ellen Kushner, and some truly gorgeous artwork.
You can purchase the issue (digital or print) at the link above, or you can listen to a free audio version of the story, released by PodCastle. It’s read by Kim Lakin-Smith, with a lovely introduction from Keffy Kehrli, editor and host of the Glittership podcast.
In honor of yesterday’s Supreme Court’s ruling in favor of marriage equality, today’s reading recommendation comes from Lightspeed‘s Queers Destroy Science Fiction! special issue:
Now: she is home, and leaning her head against her living room window at twilight, and something in the thrill of that blue and the cold of the glass against her scalp sends her tumbling —
— into her body at fourteen, looking into the blue deepening above the tree line near her home as if it were another country, longing for it, aware of the picture she makes as a young girl leaning her wondering head against a window while hungry for the future, for the distance, for the person she will grow to be — and starts to reach within her self, her future/present self, for a phrase that only her future/present self knows, to untangle herself from her past head. She has just about settled on Kristeva — abjection is above all ambiguity — when she feels, strangely, a tug on her field of vision, something at its periphery demanding attention. She looks away from the sky, looks down, at the street she grew up on, the street she knows like the inside of her mouth.
She sees a girl of about her own age, brown-skinned and dark-haired, grinning at her and waving.
She has never seen her before in her life.
— Amal El-Mohtar, “Madeleine“