Aurealis #93

By Michael Pryor (Editor)

Aurealis #93 contains features the atmospheric and evocative ‘Always’ by Si Wang, Meryl Stenhouse’s elliptical and allusive exploration of the connection between past times and today in 'Collected Emails from Nicole Hume, Graduate Student, Location Unknown', and Michael Johnston’s ‘The Trees’, where darkness abides. We also have Chris Large’s fascinating interview with Francesca Haig, author of ‘The Fire Sermon’ – plus reviews, Ross Hamilton's thought-provoking ‘Beam me up, Scotty:’ The Impact of Science Fiction on Scientific Development, outstanding art and more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chimaera Publications
• Release date: Aug 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781922031495

Book preview

AUREALIS #93

Australian Fantasy & Science Fiction

Edited by Michael Pryor

Published by Chimaera Publications at Smashwords

Copyright of this compilation Chimaera Publications 2016

Copyright on each story remains with the contributor.

EPUB version ISBN 978-1-922031-49-5

ISSN 2200-307X (electronic)

CHIMAERA PUBLICATIONS

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors, editors and artists.

Hard copy back issues of Aurealis can be obtained from the Aurealis website: www.aurealis.com.au

Contents

From the Cloud—Michael Pryor

Always—Si Wang

Collected Emails from Nicole Hume, Graduate Student, Location Unknown—Meryl Stenhouse

The Trees—Michael Johnston

Light in Dark Places: An Interview with Francesca Haig—Chris Large

‘Beam me up, Scotty:’ The Impact of Science Fiction on Scientific Development—Ross Hamilton

Secret History of Australia—Tansy Strigil—Researched by Michael Pryor

Reviews

Next Issue

Credits

From the Cloud

Michael Pryor

As readers, we love a good title. Something that’s evocative, maybe mysterious, preferably tantalising, will help me pick up a book. As writers, aware of how a good title can influence reader choice, titles are a distinct challenge. The pressure to come up with a good one, the consequences of settling on a dud… Sometimes we wish all books were released with just author name, some sort of identifying number and a really snappy cover illustration.

In our experience, titles tend to fall into categories. (Note: categories aren’t mutually exclusive. Nor comprehensive. And they’re probably a bit arbitrary, but never mind.)

Category 1: Descriptive Titles. Example: ‘The Mystery of The Screaming Clock.’ With this, we know we’re going to get a mystery and we know somewhere there’s going to be a noisy timepiece. Ah, Jupiter Jones, where are you now?

Category 2: Cryptic Titles. Example: ‘Catcher in the Rye.’ We’re not going to pick this one up expecting some sort of treatise on occupational health and safety in cereal crop related industries, but what the heck IS it going to be about? Must buy, must read…

Category 3: One Word Titles. Example: ‘Capricornia.’ These can border on cryptic (see above) but have the virtue of brevity. We recommend that if you choose a one word title, it had better be a good word.

Category 4: ‘The’ Titles. Example: ‘The Corrections.’ ‘The’ titles can sound nice and definite, as if you know what you’re talking about. This is usually a good thing in an author.

Category 5: Gerund Titles. Example: ‘The Shining.’ As for ‘The’ titles, above—plus these titles can give a sense of ongoingness, which we’re sure is a word. A Gerund Title suggests that the events of the book can keep going, even when you’re not reading. Sort of like jogging on the spot. This can be reassuring for a slow reader.

Category 6: Possessive Titles. Example: ‘Captain Corelli’s Mandolin.’ Nothing says ‘quality fiction’ like a title that follows the formula ‘X’s Y.’ It implies intimacy, closeness, ownership, like owning this book you’ve just picked up in the bookshop.

Category 7: Quote Titles. Examples: ‘To Your Scattered Bodies Go,’ ‘Brave New World.’ Okay, so you know your Donne. Or your Shakespeare. Or your Wordsworth. But do you really want to give another writer a plug on the cover of your book? Remember: it’s dog eat dog out there.

Category 8: Uncategorisable. Example: [This is where you can fill in the exception you were thinking of while you were nit-picking at Categories 1–6.]

Titles. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t Google a book without ‘em.

All the best from the cloud.

Michael Pryor

Back to Contents

Always

Si Wang

Yon Unflag trudged towards the town of Two Bones, following the black road of the Old People and bearing two wooden crates tied to opposite ends of a bamboo pole. The pole, as thick as an arm, bent in a half circle across Yon's shoulders. Although a giant of a man, Yon grunted under the weight. As he crouched down and let the crates settle to the ground, he felt his knees crack. He rubbed his bruised and sore shoulders. The sun bore down on him and the heat gathered under his black hood and mouth mask, but he did not dare take them off. Someone could be watching. With his sleeve he wiped the torrent of sweat pouring down his face.

Along the road, a single bone jutted out of the ground, dwarfing Yon, the last remnant of a ribcage from a gargantuan beast of the Old World. From a rusty chain, a sign dangled on its side with the name of the town: ‘Two Bones.’ The other bone was nowhere to be seen. Unaware of the unaccountable bone because he could not read, Yon continued onwards. The town consisted of crumbling houses dotted along a dry and yellowed spire of a hill that reached up towards the sky like a finger. Houses clung to the sides of the hill like ticks, embedding their foundations into the dry earth. Long ago, gravity pulled many of the houses down but some still remained, fighting constantly to keep their hold. Infested with vegetation and cracked by time, the road of the Old People turned into a spiral that wound around and up the hill. A young couple hung their clothes on a tethered rope and a man, who carried a lance, was leaning against a wall in the shade. A mangy dog circled around the man with its nose to the ground. The couple stopped to stare at Yon while the man peered at Yon with a monocular. Yon tilted his head away. The dog glanced at Yon but quickly returned to examining the dirt floor.

Yon had only one package for this town. His client, an elderly crone, had handed him the parcel with a mischievous wink and no advance payment—the latter of which was not unusual for first-time clients. ‘Look for Dijhar Always,’ she told him, ‘he will pay you well for the delivery.’ As Yon left her mountain cave, he heard her cackling to herself. Yon did not want to make the delivery but because he was a Krull, a single customer complaint could derail his entire career.

Yon asked the couple where he could find the Museum of the Old World. The woman scowled at him and pointed up to the very top of the hill where a weathered bronze dome stood precariously on the tip, half buried and half exposed to a lofty drop.

Midway up the hill, Yon stopped by a well to fill his canteen. A pair of children hid behind the nearest derelict, watching him from holes in the walls.

‘Stay away from the Krull, children,’ a man said. Yon turned and saw it