Fantasy Magazine Issue 58, Women Destroy Fantasy! Special Issue

by Fantasy Magazine

  Rachael Jones

  Women Destroy Fantasy! Staff

  The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley: I read a lot of fantasy as child, and this was the first one I remember really seeing myself in, after a long parade of Arthurian-type fantasy where women are doled out as prizes or are treated to the typical madonna/whore roles. In many ways, it was my introduction to feminist lit, and it’s always stayed with me.

  The Earthsea Cycle by Ursula K. Le Guin: Probably needs no explanation, and I’m sure I’m not the only one recommending it.

  Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke: Because it’s over 1,000 pages long and I still got mad when it ended because it was too dang short! It’s a story with a lot of moving parts—historical components mixed with folklore, tackling a lot of complex interpersonal relationships. I also loved how it tackled the theme of racial identity and the very real problems of race relations and slavery in the period, all tied into the novel’s climax and resolution. Amazing stuff.

  © 2014 by Wendy N. Wagner.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Wendy N. Wagner grew up in a town so small it didn’t even have its own post office, and the bookmobile’s fortnightly visit was her lifeline to the world. Her short fiction has appeared in magazines and anthologies including Beneath Ceaseless Skies, The Lovecraft eZine, Armored, The Way of the Wizard, and Heiresses of Russ 2013: The Year’s Best Lesbian Speculative Fiction. Her first novel, Skinwalkers, is a Pathfinder Tales adventure. An avid gamer and gardener, she lives in Portland, Oregon, with her very understanding family. Follow her on Twitter @wnwagner.

  AUTHOR SPOTLIGHTS

  Author Spotlight: Kate Hall

  Laurel Amberdine

  What were some of the events or ideas that inspired this story?

  This is a story about anger as much as art: about anger’s power to trap and destroy, as well as its power to liberate. The scream is the anger that lives in every person who is forced to be someone/something they don’t want to be, and it can either set you free or doom you. For the people in Felicity’s society, anger ignored results either in the smothering of their true selves, and a life watching mirrors for the telltale return of feathers (for who you really are can never be entirely killed no matter how much you try) or—if you aren’t successful at stifling yourself—turning into a bird outright. This is an idea that has been with me for some time, one that sharpened every time I saw society point a stern finger at an individual or group of people and say “If you want to be welcome, you have to abide by our rules,” and then watched those people bend and break themselves into unrecognizable shapes to try and obey those limiting (and often arbitrary) rules.

  Women in speculative fiction have heard for years about how they must write, act, sound or look in order to keep “their place” at the speculative fiction table, and for years many have had to smother their distinctive voices in order to meet those “rules.” Women writers of color are told that dialect in their narration or dialogue is “alienating,” lesbian writers are told their characters “will be hard to connect with,” women who are not conventionally beautiful are advised not to attach author photos to the jackets of their novels. Our society tries to tell us, “Contort yourself into our box of ‘acceptable lady writer’ and maybe then we’ll take you seriously.” This made me angry. It continues to make me angry now. So, rather than smother said anger, I wrote about it.

  A nightingale is the result of stifled music, and a seagull is the result of stifled scrimshaw carving. What other art/birds transformations might there be?

  The transformation into a bird wasn’t strictly due just to loss of art (though artists like Felicity and Claudette struggle more than others with turning or giving up their passion). The transformation could also be based on the qualities of the people themselves: Claudette loved music, Felicity loved the fierce beauty of the ocean and ships. In my notes for the original draft, Felicity’s mother gave up dance, rather than turn into a swallow, a graceful bird that swoops and dances in flight. Other transformations in the story are related to the person’s character: Mrs. von Moren, who loved and lost her only child, is turning into a cardinal, a bird known for being extremely protective of its young.

  The only options available to Felicity and the others in her town seem to be to deny their art fully or to turn into birds. Felicity winds up as a seagull. Do you think that’s a happier ending for her than how the others live?

  That’s a hard question. On the one hand, yes: as a bird, Felicity is free of the stifling society that tried to force her into a tidy box, one that denied her the thing she loved. On the other hand, no, because in becoming a bird, Felicity ceased to be Felicity. The woman she once was disappears entirely into the seagull. The tragedy of the story is that Felicity was shown a third way—the way of the woman in yellow, who didn’t fear society and flouted the rules and norms that might have smothered her—but she didn’t see it in time.

  As a part of this special Women Destroy Fantasy! issue, can you share some of your favorite fantasy stories by women?

  If I had to choose only a few, I would say the Nightrunner series by Lynn Flewelling, The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern, “Phosphorous” by Veronica Schanos, and the Clockwork Century series by Cherie Priest. My one regret is that my list of favorites isn’t more diverse, a situation I am in the process of rectifying.

  What are you working on now?

  Right now my major project is a YA novel I’ve been rewriting and revising for the last year, full of white crows, dimension-hopping shadows, and a pair of gutsy Dutch sisters! I’ve also been writing and critiquing short stories with my classmates from Odyssey Writing Workshop (class of ’13), which has been a wonderful ongoing exercise in perseverance, craft development, and remembering to write every day.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Laurel Amberdine was raised by cats in the suburbs of Chicago. She’s good at naps, begging for food, and turning ordinary objects into toys. She recently moved to San Francisco with her husband, and is enjoying its vastly superior weather. Between naps she’s working on polishing up a few science fiction and fantasy novels, and hopes to send them out into the world soon.

  Author Spotlight: H.E. Ruolo

  Lee Hallison

  What was the seed for this story?

  The story began with the idea of a superhero whose power worked against her. From there, many ideas I’d been interested in exploring finally came together, and others were thrust upon me as the story developed.

  Aisha, whose appearance is damaged, and the main character called Vixen, who has supreme control over her appearance, naturally feed into discussions of how women are presented, where they find their worth, and assumptions we make about ourselves that influence others who are different from us.

  Aisha’s skill with needle and thread are unusual for a superhero. Are you a seamstress, or do you like working with your hands?

  I know only the basics of sewing. I gave Aisha the ability because it’s solitary, and something she might have done before the violence against her. The familiarity makes it easy for her to dismiss her own powers.

  Pregnancy also is unusual in a superhero story. Why did you choose to have her pregnant and needing a replacement instead of, for instance, old and retiring?

  The story already has dark elements. Although old age is sometimes treated reverently, I liked the hopefulness inherent in pregnancy, which has the possibility for both joy and anguish. Vixen goes from supreme power over her physicality, to begging someone else for help with a body that is betraying her. When superheroes are relatable they are more interesting; there are aspects of life, no matter who you are, that can derail all plans.

  The main character realizes she set things up so that other women would not want to be superheroes, but cannot find even a male superhero or a child to take her place. She did not change the cards or messaging before she returns to Aisha—will she learn her lesson and make changes to the images projected to the world?

&nb
sp; Aisha isn’t the only person to change during the course of this story. Vixen is shaken from complacency in her world view. She hasn’t had to question her self-worth the way Aisha has.

  She is confident in part because she is able to control every aspect of herself. When she loses that ability, she can relate better to Aisha despite all their differences. Few of us question how our assumptions influence the world around us. She has a chance to see what she’s built, and I do believe her regret is real and will lead to action. She was always concerned about being a good role model. She’s a superhero, after all, and a parent now.

  What’s next? You recently signed with a publisher for a book series—are you going to focus solely on that or continue writing short stories on the side?

  Yes, I signed a three book deal with Permuted Press, and my first book is expected to come out in 2015. Even though I’m committed to writing the sequels, I’ll still find time for short stories. Some ideas refuse to be ignored, and I find the restraints of a shorter medium inspires my creativity.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lee Hallison writes fiction in an old Seattle house where she lives with her patient spouse, an impatient teen, two lovable dogs and the memories of several wonderful cats. She’s held many jobs—among them a bartender, a pastry chef, a tropical plant-waterer, a CPA and a university lecturer. An East Coast transplant, she simply cannot fathom cherry blossoms in March.

  Author Spotlight: T. Kingfisher

  Liz Argall

  I find that writers often re-imagine the fairytales they love the most or hate the most. I hated Cinderella with a burning passion as a kid, and so I loved your re-imagining. What is your relationship with the Cinderella fairytale and has your relationship changed over time?

  I am right there with you—Cinderella was never one of my favorites! I have a vague memory of watching the Disney cartoon as a small child and finding the “Bippity-Boppity-Boo” song sort of embarrassing. Many fairy tales have their own sort of logic and don’t hold up very well to scrutiny, but Cinderella’s particularly bad in that regard—can you imagine what that slipper would be like after it had made the rounds of the kingdom? Particularly if you have people hacking their heels and toes off to fit into it! (I know, I know, it’s supposed to be enchanted. Still.) And it also assumes that you can come in out of the scullery and walk right into a ballroom, and those are two entirely different skillsets. When would she have learned ballroom dancing in the first place?

  I also felt the stepsisters got the short end of the stick. I had two stepsisters growing up, and they were both perfectly nice girls and we all just sort of lumped together and made the best of things.

  I think you’ve written the best re-imagined selkie story I’ve ever read (“The Jackalope Wives”) and with Hannah we have a Cinderella who’s absolutely my Cinderella. Are there other fairytales you’d like to re-imagine?

  Aw, thank you! Actually, there’s a lot of fairy tales I’d like to re-imagine—it’s one of my great joys. As much as I may grumble about some of the logic holes in fairy tales, there’s a real weight and mythic quality that makes them a lot of fun to work with. I’m currently working on a novel-length retelling of Bluebeard and I have a comic for kids coming out next year that’s about a hamster princess who is nominally Sleeping Beauty . . . except it’s a hamster wheel instead of a spinning wheel.

  Did you pick tufted titmouse as the species of bird because it’s a terrific name? Or do you and tufted titmice share a more elaborate history together? Please say you have an elaborate back story!

  Oh wow, now I wish I had a better one! “There I was, on fire, and the tufted titmouse pulled the fire alarm . . .” But no, they’re actually one of my common garden birds that show up on the bird feeder. They’re a really cute little bird, like a tiny gray and white cardinal, and a fairly brave one. There’s a park up in Cape Cod where the titmice and the chickadees are so used to being fed that they’ll land on your hand, and I’ve had one perch on my thumb for a few seconds. They weigh absolutely nothing. You can feel a little bit of scratchiness from the claws, but that’s all.

  Plus, it is a great name.

  Do you think Hannah ever gets an orangery?

  It’s possible, but I think the Gardener is right—they’re a lot of trouble in a cold climate! The lengths to which people went to, growing citrus back in the day . . . even as recently as the Regency, people are pouring vast amounts of money into maintaining hothouses, and I don’t know if Hannah would think it worth the effort. Many of them were symbols of wealth as much as useful gardening.

  That said, with a properly facing brick wall and some ingenuity, Hannah could probably grow some pretty exotic things. Gardeners have been keeping tropical plants going in less than tropical climates for centuries. I like to think she figures out how to grow oranges and pomegranates, at least!

  Why nasturtium seeds? . . . I mean I know nasturtiums are beautiful and delicious, you have great taste in food and agriculture throughout this story. In my experience nasturtium seeds is a great hardy annual that enjoys poor soil that often self seeds, so it might not be too hard to get seeds once the plant is present in the region. Does the Duke control access to this exotic seed?

  Well, nasturtiums are originally from Peru, and there are two varieties. The first one has an almost vine-like habit, and it’s actually pretty picky—the Spanish imported it, but it was apparently not that easy to grow. Then the classic round-leaf version we all know and love got introduced somewhere around the 17th century, and it’s a much sturdier plant. So there’s about a century-long window where nasturtiums would probably have been known as a rare ornamental, before the Dutch brought the other species over and those spread like wildfire. Most of what we grow today is a hybrid of the two species. (On a good year, they take over my garden. On a bad year, they take over my garden . . . and the deck . . . and try to come into the house . . .)

  As a grubby gal who’s spent a lot of time in the garden or in an orchard I love all the agricultural details in this story. What sort of mix of personal experience and research did you use? Do you have any amusing gardening or agricultural anecdotes to share with us?

  Well, the sorts of things that gardeners find funny might be a little opaque to non-gardeners—I mean, I think it’s funny when I have a cucumber grow into a lattice, so you find this gigantic bright-orange thing the size of a baseball bat embedded between the slats and you have to cut it out with a knife! (Do other people find that funny? I don’t think other people find that funny . . . .) But yes, I’m an avid gardener, which mostly means I kill a lot of plants every year and get very excited over manure. And I spend a lot of time muttering to myself about sowing beets and whether it’s worth putting down radishes or whether they’ll just bolt in the heat.

  The closest I think I come to a genuinely funny gardening anecdote . . . well, I’m pretty bad with spatial measurements. So the first time I went to buy mulch from a garden supplier, I thought I wanted four cubic yards, and they’re used to doing really big bulk orders, so they said “Are you sure that’s enough?” And I thought, “Oh, hmm, maybe that’s not as much as I thought it was, that’s only like three feet by twelve feet, right? Maybe I should get more . . . It’s not like mulch goes bad, and you always lowball how much of something you need . . .” So I ordered seven cubic yards and went home feeling like I had been very responsible and proactive and completely forgetting that a cube has a third dimension.

  And then the dump truck arrived. And I was left with Mt. Mulch in my driveway—it was nearly as tall as I was, and it was just me and a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow! It took me a good two months to get it all moved around. I mulched everything.

  What needs destroying in fantasy?

  Probably everything, at one time or another! But at the moment, I wouldn’t mind seeing—oh, less unrelenting awful people, maybe. I get very tired of horrible people doing horrible things for no apparent reason beyond wallowing in horribleness. I’m not asking for an end to conflict
s or villains—we need plots to make stories, after all!—but I look at so many fantasies and the only characters I recognize from real life are the minor spear-carriers and the comic relief.

  Perhaps I am just lucky to be surrounded by basically decent people who don’t kick puppies professionally. But it often strikes me that a lot of heroes in fantasy novels are people who, in real life, we would back away from going “Ooooookay, dude . . . I’m just gonna . . . go . . . over here now . . . .”

  Maybe we’ve got enough dragonslayers for the moment, and it’s time for some people who are out doing environmental assessments on dragon eggshell thickness and dissecting griffin pellets to see what percentage of their diet is fish or something.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Liz Argall’s short stories can be found in places like Apex Magazine, Strange Horizons, Daily Science Fiction, and This is How You Die: Stories of the Inscrutable, Infallible, Inescapable Machine of Death. Go read her web comic, Things Without Arms and Without Legs, a comic about creatures who are kind: thingswithout.com.

  Author Spotlight: Julia August

  Sandra O’Dell

  “Drowning in Sky” is filled with poetry and a wondrous blend of imagery. Many of the images are quite old, echoing the goddess cycle from long before pre-Dorian myths and stories. What inspired you to weave this particular retelling?

  Oh, this might get long. The inspiration for this story was one part myth to two parts history: the myth is the story of Arachne, of course, but the historical details are the sinking of Helike and the statue of Nike Apteros. I threw various other bits and pieces into the mix, but I’ll concentrate on the important ones here: