Aurealis #98

By Michael Pryor (Editor)

Aurealis #98 brings you top speculative fiction with the irreverent Wind Farmers from Outer Space by Robert Cox, the eerie When I Tried to go to England by Sarah Hart and the moody Hyter and the House That Stands by Steve Toase. Our non-fiction explores Kafka’s Influence on Spec Fic and a vital aspect of the Vorkosigan Saga, brought to you by Lachlan Walter and Renée Turner respectively. With our usual multitude of reviews, our thought-provoking editorial and our stunning internal art, Aurealis #98 brings home the speculative fiction bacon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chimaera Publications
• Release date: Mar 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781922031549

Book preview

AUREALIS #98

Australian Fantasy & Science Fiction

Edited by Michael Pryor

Published by Chimaera Publications at Smashwords

Copyright of this compilation Chimaera Publications 2017

Copyright on each story remains with the contributor.

EPUB version ISBN 978-1-922031-54-9

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

When I Tried to Go to England—Sarah Hart

Wind Farmers From Outer Space—Robert Cox

Hyter and the House That Stands—Steve Toase

Dissecting SF: The Enduring Influence of Kafka on Speculative Fiction—Lachlan Walter

Not Born of Woman—Artificial Wombs in the Vorkosigan Saga—Renée Turner

Secret History of Australia—James Ekkersley—Researched by Stephen Higgins

Reviews

Next Issue

Credits

From the Cloud

Michael Pryor

What is it about series, particularly in Science Fiction and Fantasy?

It seems almost impossible to find a Fantasy book that isn’t part of a series. Much of it seems to be in homage to Tolkien’s ‘Lord of the Rings,’ the original trilogy. Those with a sense of history (and those who are at all curious) know that LoTR wasn’t designed to be a trilogy. Tolkien wrote it as a single book, but Allen and Unwin (the original publishers) thought it was simply too bulky to release in one whomping great volume.

But once the pattern was set, it seems as if fantasy readers have come to enjoy and even expect a trilogy—or more. There’s something comforting about a series, where you know the characters, the setting and you can revel in the unfolding story. Of course, some series outstay their welcome. Sometimes you get up to Book Four and the characters are still rattling around and you just want to shake them and yell, ‘GET ON WITH IT! YOU’VE GOT A WHOLE DAMN PROPHECY TO FULFIL AND YOU’VE ONLY GOT THREE BOOKS LEFT TO DO IT IN!’

A series is often a natural thing. Once a writer has gone to all the trouble of creating a fantasy world, it seems as if there is more than one story to tell.

Some questions to ponder. The paradigmatical series, the trilogy. Is it one story split into three, or is it three stories glued together into one? LoTR, as mentioned above, is one story chopped up into three volumes for practical reasons. It reads like that, too.

And what about the problem of the second book? The first book sets up the theme, characters, sets the story in motion. The last book brings it all to a conclusion—often with a massive battle. The second book can be a problem. It must have its own integrity. It can’t simply mark time. It shouldn’t be simply a bridge. It’s a challenge for a writer.

And to call a series? ‘The XXX Trilogy’ has been done to death. We have plenty of Sagas, Tapestries, Chronicles, Sequences, Songs, Volumes, Cycles etc etc. What’s left? ‘The XXX Directory’? ‘The XXX Wall Hanging’? ‘The XXX Oratorio’?

We at Aurealis maintain that there are two different sorts of series. One is the classic serial—each book ends on a cliffhanger and isn’t ‘complete’ without the other books in the series. The other is where each book is complete and comes to a whole and satisfying conclusion. The characters and setting remain the same, however, and with each book they have another set of adventures—novel sequences than a series, something like Patrick O’Brian’s Aubrey-Maturin books (to choose a non-Fantasy/SF example). Or—and we hesitate to raise the name of The Master—something like Enid Blyton’s Famous Five books. Although we do wonder about how applicable the notions of story arc and character journey are across the Famous Five sequence…

Series, serial, novel sequence. In the end this is all just hair-splitting. Series are here to stay. Some people roll their eyes whenever a series is mentioned, but for a writer of Fantasy and SF a series can be the expansive canvas that large ideas and large stories need.

All the best from the cloud.

Michael Pryor

Back to Contents

When I Tried to Go to England

Sarah Hart

I really tried to go to England. I was hanging out to ride Mum’s hunters, bond with my sister, do nothing for a while.

But while I was in the loo the plane changed direction.

Meghan looked accusingly at me as I sat back down. ‘It’s not me,’ I said uncertainly. We were supposed to stop over in Sydney, but for some reason we couldn’t make it that far.

No-one would tell us where we were. Even when we landed. We were shovelled on a bus and driven through a long valley. Meghan wouldn’t talk to me—she was convinced all this was my fault. And I wasn’t sure enough to contradict her.

We passed skyscrapers and theme parks. ‘Sunset Valley’ I read on a sign, and I was filled with a kind of dread, a kind of choking inevitability. When we stopped at a Rodeo I started shaking. The driver must’ve lived there. He got out and went into a little weatherboard off to the side, leaving his passengers to sit and avoid eye contact.

Meghan was the first to have had enough and she got up and walked off. I followed. I had a feeling it was the least I could do. I was still hoping this was an everyday accident, a perfectly normal aberration.

But then I saw the cowboys. There always seemed to be cowboys at the beginning, I had no idea why.

The horses were still, staring at us blank-eyed as a handful of passengers piled out. Too thin, I thought, then turned