Mithila Review 11: The Journal of International Science Fiction & Fantasy

By Mithila Review

Mithila Review publishes excellent science fiction, fantasy, poetry, reviews, excerpts, and articles from award-winning and emerging writers around the world. We seek to publish stories that birth creative thought and positive action. Stories that accurately describe our world, and triumph over fear, mistrust and despair. Stories that guide us and the future. Because the world needs saving, and honestly, nothing works better than positive and powerful stories of belief and wonder.

Issue 11: Table of Contents

FICTION

On the Seventh Day by Elaine Vilar Madruga, translated by Toshiya Kamei
The Great Wall of America by David A. Hewitt
The Domovoi by Avra Margariti
The Devil Buys Us Cheap and the Devil Buys in Bulk by M. Bennardo
Domesticated by Timothy Bastek
No Folly of the Beasts by Wren Wallis

POETRY

How To Lie About SN 2213-1745 by Mary Soon Lee
Joining the Navy & Threads of Honor by Phoebe Low
Steel Dust & Soothsayer by Qurat Dar
tetrahedral edifices of a sticky rice realm by D.A. Xiaolin Spires
Churning of the Ocean by Uma Menon
The Moth Spectacular by Adele Gardner

Cover art by Edward Hicks (1848)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pidgin Studios
• Release date: Sep 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463849989

Mithila Review

Mithila Review is an international science fiction and fantasy magazine founded in late 2015. We publish literary speculative fiction and poetry (science fiction/fantasy), film and book reviews, essays and interviews from across the world. A hypertext of original narratives and home of the translated from around the globe, Mithila Review is also an inquiry into the process of translating and the craft of storytelling.Every issue of Mithila Review has been made possible by generous contributions from our readers, contributors and patrons. Please subscribe to Mithila Review and become a patron to be part of, nurture and support this open, diverse and vibrant community.What we publish?Mithila Review features speculative arts and culture that encompass literary and artistic works in the broad genre with supernatural, fantastical or futuristic elements i.e. science fiction, fantasy, science fantasy, horror, alternative history, magic realism, uncanny and weird. Learn more.What is Mithila?“Mithila is a referent. It is a symbol. It can speak to the times when we have felt that we don’t quite belong. It can speak of the times when we have felt the urge to lurk away and disappear or the times we’ve felt the need to stay. It can speak to the time when we liberated our anger and pain in ways that have only fed the creative river within us. Mithila Review is space for our collective celebration and playful engagement with language. We hope that it can speak in all kinds of ways.” — Ajapa Sharma, Editor

Book preview

MR _ Logo

The Journal of International Science Fiction & Fantasy 

Issue 11, September 2019

Founding Editor & Publisher

Salik Shah

*

Website: MithilaReview.com

Twitter: @MithilaReview

Facebook: MithilaReview

SoundClound: MithilaReview

Patreon: MithilaReview

Community: Asian SF/F

Mithila Review © 2017-19. Copyright to art, poetry, fiction and non-fiction belongs to their respective authors. Cover art in public domain.

CONTENTS

EDITORIAL

Stories That Can Change the World, or The Mission Statement

Salik Shah

FICTION

On the Seventh Day 

Elaine Vilar Madruga, translated by Toshiya Kamei

The Great Wall of America 

David A. Hewitt

The Domovoi 

Avra Margariti

The Devil Buys Us Cheap and the Devil Buys in Bulk

M. Bennardo

Domesticated 

Timothy Bastek

No Folly of the Beasts 

Wren Wallis

POETRY

How To Lie About SN 2213-1745 

Mary Soon Lee

Joining the Navy 

Phoebe Low

Threads of Honor

Phoebe Low

Steel Dust

Qurat Dar

Soothsayer 

Qurat Dar

tetrahedral edifices of a sticky rice realm 

D.A. Xiaolin Spires

Churning of the Ocean

Uma Menon

The Moth Spectacular

Adele Gardner

About

Past Issues

Acknowledgment

Editorial

Stories That Can Change the World, or The Mission Statement

Literature is above politics, to describe and to criticize it. Literature needs to reveal the weakness of politics and its dark side to help push society forward. — Ma Jian

Four years ago, when I started working on Mithila Review, I was on a mission to stop the ongoing state persecutions and killings in this part of the world. The idea was to speak truth to power through stories from brave and talented writers who fearlessly wrote about the quest for identity, dignity and justice against the historical injustices and discriminations, and the use of violence and abuse of power by states against their own citizens, non-citizens, aliens, refugees and migrants in different parts of the world, in different times.

As a writer, I felt utterly powerless to do so on my own, because what I wrote met with either stony silence or rejection; I didn’t have friends or access to the established media platforms because I didn’t toe a party line. I don’t think in brackets or borders—I am a millennial who grew up writing, coding, and publishing on the world wide web. If you belong to the world—they seem to be telling me—you cannot be one of us. Fine, I am not.

I didn’t realize at the time that I was risking my career in advertising to build this community platform. As I said, I was on a mission to tell diverse, progressive, and powerful stories from around the world with a strong belief that these stories could help change our worlds—one citizen reader at a time, word by word. And before I knew it, Mithila Review had become my outlet, my shield, my art and my home, and I believe I am not alone. As our reader, author or contributor, I sincerely hope that you feel the same.

After the first year of publication, we started to pay a small honorarium of $5-10 to our contributors thanks to a handful of patrons on Patreon. After the second or third year, however, when our funds remained below $200, I didn’t feel it was right to continue to solicit and publish work from authors if I couldn't pay them enough. Every time I took a story for publication, a part of me felt extremely guilty about not being able to support the author with professional pay rates. (This hasn’t changed, of course.) So I kept delaying processing submissions—I extend my apologies once again to everyone who had to wait long enough to receive a response.

Writing, editing or publishing is an act of faith and courage in the age of crises we live in. I can only describe the time it takes me to read, correspond, design, edit, code and publish Mithila Review as incredible. Now, in order to be able to continue to publish and grow this journal into a world-class publication committed to literary excellence and progressive values, I know I have to get full-time staff and resources.

So far, I have been unwilling to hire interns or employ a large pool of volunteers because we do not have the necessary funding in place to pay myself and others for their time and efforts. There’s one more thing: I have been resisting the idea of chasing corporate funding because it could possibly mean, among other things, putting Mithila Review behind a paywall, bombarding readers with ads, and/or publishing content that I do not believe in—content bereft of positive impact or value.

The last time I checked, as a citizen from India, I cannot launch a crowdfunding campaign on Kickstarter or Indiegogo like our peers in the West. Unfortunately, Mithila Review doesn’t exist for the world outside of a small community. So I have relied mostly on Patreon subscriptions and the extremely rare Paypal donations to be able to pay our contributors.

These past few years, I have struggled to come out of my own den of despair as writer and filmmaker. I finally began to approach mainstream publishers and production houses as potential collaborators in India. Well, I am still getting used to the silent treatment and our small talks. What I have realized is that there is no point waiting for someone to give you an answer. You must find your own way if you want to tell your stories. Make your films.  

As a small and independent publisher, what I have always sought to publish in Mithila Review are stories that can give us hope against all odds, fundamentalists and despots. Stories that explore and illuminate life on Earth, and help us understand and prepare for the real world — which can be indifferent to the suffering of those around us — and the crises that we face as an evolving (or dying) species.

Stories that are told from the perspective of someone aware of and informed by the rational and scientific, technological, economic, environmental, anthropological or cultural discoveries, developments and challenges of today’s world. Stories that have something to tell us about what’s happening to us, the environment and all other creatures with whom we share this planet. In a voice that is compelling, original, well-informed, and urgent. Stories that can be vehicles of change. Stories that can change the world — one reader at a time, word by word.

It’s nothing less than a miracle for me that a journal like Mithila Review exists on the Internet. And I constantly feel the burden of expectations and a tremendous sense of responsibility to do the right thing and serve this global community of readers and writers the best I can.

As always, I am extremely grateful to the authors who choose to send us their best work, and make it possible for this platform to be here. I am equally grateful to all our precious readers and patrons for their patience, love and support. Without your generous donation and support, Mithila Review cannot find, curate, publish and spread diverse, original and impactful stories for the borderless citizens.

The threats resulting from climate change, state surveillance, nationalism, fundamentalism and intolerance, state corruption and violence, also erosion of our privacy and power to mobilize against the state or bring about a fundamental change are real. The ruling elites have hacked the world's democracies, people’s constitutions, and public institutions that could have served the interests of the people. And the only way for us to take back control is to tell stories that birth creative thought and positive action. Stories that accurately describe our world, and triumph over fear, mistrust and despair. Stories that guide us and the future. Because the world needs saving, and honestly, nothing works better than stories of wonder and belief.

If you want to join me as part of the editorial team or contribute in any other way, you can reach out to me here: [e-mail].

Thank you so much. My best wishes, love and hugs to you all!

— Salik Shah

Founding Editor & Publisher 

Mithila Review

[e-mail]

Paypal: paypal.me/mithilareview

Patreon: patreon.com/mithilareview 

FICTION

On the Seventh Day

Elaine Vilar Madruga

Translated by Toshiya Kamei

Born in Havana, Cuba in 1989, Elaine Vilar Madruga is a poet, fiction writer, and playwright. Her work has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies around the globe. She has authored more than thirty books, including Culto de acoplamiento (2015), Sakura (2016), Fragmentos de la tierra rota (2017), El Hambre y la Bestia (2018), and Los años del silencio (2019). Translations of her short stories have appeared or are forthcoming in The Bitter Oleander and F&SF.

Toshiya Kamei translates short fiction and poetry. His translations have appeared or are forthcoming in Abyss & Apex, Cosmic Roots & Eldritch Shores, F&SF, Helios Quarterly Magazine, and Samovar.

You were alone. Lost.

You had stopped asking yourself questions after spending the last millennium hopping between infinite dimensions, searching for a trace of life that didn’t even exist in any of them.

You went crazy when you were stranded in that shell-like empty dimension. You hated it as much as you hated those shells, because they offered you nothing. You were a mere traitor, an outcast from the god Orom’s caste. You were the taboo of your species, and as such you were doomed to solitude.

Resigned, you turned off the engines and ripped the hypersault link. With slow steps you entered the cryogenic freezing room, thinking of a painless immortality away from memory. You imagined the taboo came to an end as you hugged yourself in the last functional pod, and gazed at that universe of dust and death, which was condemned—like you—to eternal inertia.

When the cold entered your bones, you dreamed.

When the cold reached your mind, you had already spread a blue map over your dreams. On the map, you made the earth, the sea, and every living thing so that you would be worshiped.

All in just six cycles.

Then you decided this would be the beginning of many beginnings.

You smiled in your sleep, as the gods would do on the seventh-day rest.

The Great Wall of America

David A. Hewitt

David A. Hewitt is a graduate of the University of Southern Maine’s Stonecoast MFA program in Popular Fiction. His fiction has appeared in Kaleidotrope and Severed Press's 2012 AD anthology, and his poetry in Three Line Poetry and 50 Haikus. As a Japanese-English translator his credits include the animated series Gilgamesh, Area 88, Welcome to the NHK, Kingdom, and most recently Kochoki: Young Nobunaga. He has nearly 20 years’ experience teaching English to immigrants and non-native speakers of myriad cultural and linguistic backgrounds.

The night before the escape attempt — two nights after Asaad’s beating — the crew had a heated exchange. Lori, Rafael, and Windward did, that is; Asaad was by this time on the decline and, after an exhausted attempt at his night prayers, had fallen into