Showing posts with label shared worlds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shared worlds. Show all posts

Monday, 1 September 2014

Guest Post | "Interconnection and Telling Myths" by Benjanun Sriduangkaew

When Niall asked me to pick a blog topic and suggested, as one option, why I kept coming back to the mythological grounding of Scale-Bright and its related stories, I jumped at the chance: it seems like a perfect way to combine that particular subject and the more general one of writing interconnected short stories that share a world or characters.

I have it on good genre authority—mainly Rachel Swirsky and Niall Harrison—that interconnected short stories are far from uncommon; Aliette de Bodard is famous for it with her Xuya stories, which share a space opera universe best known for its sentient ship AIs and complex families, and the novella On a Red Station, Drifting in the same setting. We know Ann Leckie’s Radchaai mostly from Ancillary Justice, but there are also short stories like They Sink and Are Vanished Away’ and ‘Night’s Slow Poison’. Richard Parks has his Lord Yamada stories and the novel Yamada Monogatari. Lavie Tidhar has built up his Central Station over the years. E. Catherine Tobler has her Unreal Circus, Jason Sanford his Plague Birds while Mike Allen has phantasmagoria SF Hierophants stories and poetry. That’s just to name a handful! It seems to me that the drive to establish a sense of continuity is shared by many writers; sometimes we come up with a world, or a set of characters, we can’t entirely let go after just one story.

But another draw for me is that while reconfigurations of folktales and myths are plentiful, the type of what gets retold tends to be particular. Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella and so on are the frequent choices. I wanted to pick a story outside that range. It’s far from obscure; the story of the archer Houyi and the legend of the White Snake are staples—but to some the fact that I gender-flipped Houyi can go entirely unnoticed! So it’s interesting to try this out, introducing tales that are new to some readers while being deeply familiar with others. I’ve observed that retellings tend to give sly nods to readers who know the original—through motif, iconic moments—and that’s part of the delight; I do it too, though I also like to think that I’ve drawn these stories in a manner that can be enjoyed by those unfamiliar with them as well. And once I did one part of this, the rest demanded their turn. ‘Woman of the Sun, Woman of the Moon’ came first, focusing on Chang’e and Houyi; it led me to research Xihe, the mother of the suns Houyi (somewhat inconsiderately) brings down, and then I wanted to give her a story too—one mostly of my own invention, taking elements from the original material and reconfiguring them to varying degrees. I couldn’t stop there though; at the time I wanted to do so much more with these characters, but ran into the issue that Houyi and Chang’e had already finished their arc, if you will. They’d overcome most of their obstacles, achieved narrative closure, and it’s time to relegate them to secondary roles.

I needed a new character, a new focus, and a new story. Bringing all of this to our time seemed like a fine way to do it, and making the main character a many-times removed grandniece of Chang’e’s gives them a crucial family connection. Then I lit on the concept of tying it into a different myth—which offers its own (relatively) young, hot-headed figure in the Green Snake as foil to the young, uncertain woman I’ve made the lead of Scale-Bright. Things ballooned and before I knew it, I had in my hand an entire novella. It couldn’t be squeezed back into a short story anymore.

It’s not all smooth as this is not my culture, but I hope that I’ve put in thought and research, though if concerns are raised I would be more than happy to attend to them. Part of my goal was relentless fidelity in specific aspects. I never include glossaries in my work, as it’s important to me that words are understood through their contexts organically. The characters speak more than one Chinese—readers who know will recognize the markers around that. There are terms in the novella I leave untranslated and undefined, and while that might make the reading experience challenging to some, in that regard I’m of the Junot Díaz school of thought: The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao comes without a glossary, so I like to think I’m safe, or at least in good company!

And it’s satisfying, as well, to fulfill the obligation to characters who’ve taken root in your head. To make them complete, while simultaneously sharing something you love—a body of myth that resonates with me, recast slightly in a way I hope will resonate with others too. That, to me, is one of the best things of this business: sharing what you care about, what matters to you, and writing from a place of joy.

***

Benjanun Sriduangkaew is "a writer of SF, F, and other things in the between" whose fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in Clarkesworld, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, The Dark, GigaNotoSaurusTor.com and a number of anthologies such as Solaris Rising 3, Phantasm Japan and The Mammoth Book of Steampunk Adventures. A 2014 Campbell Award finalist for Best New Writer, her debut novella Scale-Bright is out now from Immersion Press. Find out more about it and its author at A Bee Writes.

Thursday, 21 November 2013

Cover Identity | Honor Among Thieves

Spotted yesterday on danielabraham.com, the revised cover art for the Star Wars novel he and Ty Franck are currently collaborating on:


Though the Expanse novels have come to be an annual tentpole treat for me, I'm not sure how I feel about James S. A. Corey working on a Star Wars novel. It's not a franchise I'm particularly interested in... though I confess I'm tempted to make an exception for Honor Among Thieves, which is due out surprisingly soon — in March from LucasBooks.

Friday, 26 April 2013

Coming Attractions | New Sun Stories and More

I'm pressed for time again today—well what's new, Blue?—so rather than subjecting you to a last-minute ramble, I thought we could look to tomorrow, by way of a pair of exciting anthologies I heard about for the first time yesterday.

End of the Road appears to follow in the footsteps of Jonathan Oliver's earlier anthology, The End of the Line, which I adored upon its release a few years ago.
An incredible anthology of original short stories by an exciting list of writers from all around the world, including the best-selling author Philip Reeve and the World Fantasy Award-winning Lavie Tidhar. 
Each step will lead you closer to your destination, but who, or what, can you expect to meet at journey's end? Here are stories of misfits, spectral hitch-hikers, nightmare travel tales and the rogues, freaks and monsters to be found on the road. The critically acclaimed editor of Magic, The End of The Line and House of Fear has brought together the contemporary masters and mistresses of the weird from around the globe in an anthology of travel tales like no other. Strap on your seatbelt, shoulder your backpack, or wait for the next ride... into darkness.
End of the Road is due out in November from our pals at Solaris, and I'm pretty sure it'll be super.


If anything I'm more certain that I'll be enraptured by Shadows of the New Sun, an August anthology very much in the mode of Songs of the Dying Earth, but in honour of Gene Wolfe's work rather than Jack Vance's classic saga.
Perhaps no living author of imaginative fiction has earned the awards, accolades, respect, and literary reputation of Gene Wolfe. His prose has been called subtle and brilliant, inspiring not just lovers of fantasy and science fiction, but readers of every stripe, transcending genre and defying preconceptions. 
In this volume, a select group of Wolfe’s fellow authors pay tribute to the award-winning creator of The Book of the New Sun, The Fifth Head of Cerberus, Soldier of the Mist, The Wizard Knight and many others, with entirely new stories written specifically to honor the writer hailed by The Washington Post as “one of America’s finest.”
Alongside the complete Table of Contents—which includes original fiction from luminaries like Neil Gaiman, Nancy Kress, Joe Haldeman, David Brin and Michael Swanwick—Tor.com just posted an exclusive first look at the foreword of Shadows of the New Sun.

More than enough, in other words, to engender my interest. I haven't often had call to talk about my feelings for this author, but I am a massive fan of the man. Which makes Shadows of the New Sun at least twice as exciting, because Wolfe's contributing a few new stories too.

Wootable news, no?

Friday, 29 June 2012

The Scotsman Abroad | Weird Spaces, Familiar Faces

Another week, another edition of The Scotsman Abroad.

I really do get about these days, don't I? :)

Today, anyway, I'm here to tell you all about The Devil's Nebula by Eric Brown — the inaugural installment of Abaddon Books' latest shared world, Weird Space.


And... it's basically okay. Fun, vehemently, but eminently forgettable.

I wish I could be more enthusiastic about The Devil's Nebula - my friend and fellow Eric Brown admirer Mark Chitty certainly seemed to enjoy it, and to a certain extent, I did too - but in the end, I was left feeling largely underwhelmed.

Anyway, my full review went live over at Tor.com late last week. Here's a snippet from it:
Riding high on the contrails of The Kings of Eternity, perhaps his most excellent effort to date, as well as his least conventional, Eric Brown returns to known space in The Devil’s Nebula, to revisit some familiar faces. Ahoy there, evil aliens!

Principally an introduction to Weird Space, which is to say Abaddon Books' latest shared world setting, The Devil’s Nebula is a novel as fun and undemanding as – and not a lot longer than – any episode of Farscape or Firefly... though I fear it goes in want of the wit and the warmth that made those gone but not forgotten science-fiction series so smart and remarkable.

And the width. Because this is not, shall we say, a narrative concerned with fundamental questions of "life, death, existence, non-existence. The arbitrary nature of the universe; the chaos, the order." There’s no harm in that, of course, no inherent foul; after all, not every novel need occupy itself with deep and meaningful experiences. Instead, The Devil’s Nebula’s core focus is on interstellar antics — such as the near miss with which it begins, when deep in enemy territory, the cast-offs who crew The Paradoxical Poettouch down on Vetch-controlled Hesperides.
Ultimately The Devil's Nebula could have been better, but problems and all, it still makes for a reasonable start to Weird Space. Decent enough that I'll at least read the next in the series, Satan's Reach — though coming off this kinda sorta disappointment, I'm rather more interested in Eric Brown's next next novel, which is to say The Serene Invasion.

But what about you guys? Anyone got a favourite shared setting? Suggestions for which other worlds I might be inclined to walkabout one day?

I've heard good things about Wild Cards over the years, for instance - and George R. R. Martin's involvement does tend to suggest there'll be something special about it - but I've never been sure where to start, or if I should even bother. Thoughts?

Monday, 9 April 2012

Guest Post | Stefan of Civilian Reader Reviews The Executioness by Tobias S. Buckell

Stefan Fergus blogs with such alarming regularity that it makes the likes of little old me feel entirely inadequate, especially considering - and this is the kicker - that the consistency of his work never slips.

Like Ryan from Battle Hymns the other day, good sir Stefan reviews books by the bunch, but also quite a lot of comics, and with my renewed interest in the storytelling potential of sequential art, of late I've been looking to Civilian Reader even more often than I used to do. It has, I hardly need add, my heartiest recommendation. It's a blog of quantity and quality, and that's desperately rare in this day and age.

I've had my eye on the beautiful books Stefan discusses below since they were announced way back when, and though the kingly cost of the limited editions of The Alchemist and The Executioness put me off then, somehow or other I'd managed to miss the news that they were now available as nearly-free singles for the Kindle, and presumably other e-readers too. Thus, I am four pounds poorer, because of Stefan, but also substantially better prepared for this month in America.

Shall we get to the gosh-darned guest blog already? :)

***

"Magic has a price.

"In Khaim, that price is your head if you’re found using it. For the use of magic comes with a side effect: it creates bramble. The bramble is a creeping, choking menace that has covered majestic ancient cities, and felled civilizations. In order to prevent the spread of the bramble, many lose their heads to the cloaked executioners of Khaim.

"Tana is one of these executioners, taking the job over from her ailing father in secret, desperate to keep her family from starvation. But now her family has been captured by raiders, and taken to a foreign city.

"So Khaim’s only female executioner begins a quest to bring her family back together. A bloody quest that will change lives, cities, and even an entire land, forever. A quest that will create the legend of The Executioness." 

The Executioness is one of two novelettes set in this magic-infused fantasy world – the other is The Alchemist by Paolo Bacigalupi.

Every time a spell is cast a bit of bramble sprouts – tangling vines with thorns that threaten a poisonous sleep. It can sprout anywhere and everywhere. In the lands of Khaim, magic use has been too frequent, and whole swathes of the city are plagued by brambles – indeed, the rulers of the city are using magic to help in some urban planning (flagrantly ignoring their own law), which has caused the bramble to spread dangerously. The inhabitants do what they can to keep it at bay (burning, chopping), but it always comes back.

Tana’s father is one of the executioners called upon to mete out justice when an illegal magic-user is caught. At the start of The Executioness, he is too ill to serve, and when called upon Tana dons his outfit and goes in his stead. After doing her duty, her home is raided and her sons kidnapped. And so begins a long journey to recover her lost family – a journey blessed by unprecedented luck.

This is, at heart, the story of a warrior’s evolution. It’s a coming of age story of a very different sort. It doesn’t wholly work, given the short length, but it is certainly engaging. There are a couple of turning points in the story, which kickstart and accelerate Tana’s training and preparation for what she will ultimately have to do. At each point, she starts to think more strategically. In some ways, it feels a bit too sudden, her evolution from peasant butcher to warrior leader – the proper level of character development I think a story like this needs was never going to be possible in such a small word-count. That being said, for the purposes of the story, not to mention the length, it is an important and necessary development. In addition, I think that lengthening the story could have robbed it of some of its impact, even though some might have preferred greater attention to world-building and getting to know the characters better.

What world-building Buckell does give us is very well done, and conveyed in a natural way: it comes through Tana’s experiences and interactions with others (for example, the Roadmaster, who helped flesh out the world quite nicely), and because it’s so sparse, it never comes across as an info-dump. We do get to know Tana, especially during her training with Bojdan (which also gives us a look at the martial beliefs and traditions of the people – as well as a good field-guide of just how versatile the axe is as a weapon).

As mentioned above, Tana’s journey is blessed, and I think this is where my only complaint comes: the Legend of the Executioness was such a handy, powerful thing, and I think Buckell didn’t quite manage to make me believe that such a rumour could spread so far and wide in such a short amount of time. Especially since it’s so far from the truth – something Tana, at first, attempts to point out, but eventually drops after realising the psychological value of everyone incorrectly believing you to be a superior warrior. 

This is the first fiction I've ever read by Buckell, and I was impressed (but not surprised) by the quality of his prose, pacing and story. I’m not entirely sure what to make of it, though. It’s got a lot of great, imaginative elements to it, and I can’t understand why he and Bacigalupi didn’t aim for longer pieces of fiction. (I’ve not heard any talk of more from this world coming out.) One thing I thought could have been explored more was the bramble itself – it’s a fantastic idea, but it occupies a strange place in this story: it is central to the motivations of the antagonists, while at the same time being quite a distant element of the actual plot.

The Executioness is well worth its small cost, and I look forward to reviewing Paolo Bacigalupi’s contribution over on Civilian Reader in the next couple of weeks. I would be interested in reading more stories set in this world, as I think it’s got a lot of potential still to be explored. This is a good story, but I think it could nevertheless have benefited greatly from being just a little longer, to better establish the world and allow for a more natural character development.

***

Methinks my monies were well spent.

Anyway, I hope you'll all join me in thanking Stefan for the great guest post. All together now: thank you, Stefan! :)

And remember, Civilian Reader is where it's at. Get on over there and keep an eye out for Stefan's review of The Alchemist by Paolo Bacigalupi in the not-too-distant. I bet it's even better than The Executioness.

Tomorrow on The Speculative Scotsman - and again on Wednesday, as a matter of fact - I'll be welcoming Mark Chitty of the wonderful Walker of Worlds blog to the site, to talk about...

...actually, maybe I won't spoil the surprise. :)

I will say this about what he's been working on for you lucky lot: it's brown, but quite, quite brilliant.

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Book Review: Halo - The Fall of Reach by Eric Nylund


Buy this book from

"As the bloody Human-Covenant War rages on Halo, the fate of humankind may rest with one warrior, the lone SPARTAN survivor of another legendary battle. This was the desperate, take-no-prisoners struggle that led humanity to Halo - the fall of the planet Reach. Now, for the first time, here is the full story of that glorious, doomed conflict ...Almost on Earth's doorstep, Reach is the last military fortress to defy the brutal Covenant onslaught. But their highest priority is to prevent the Covenant from discovering Earth. The outnumbered soldiers seem to have little chance, but Reach is the secret training ground for the very first 'super soldiers'. Code-named SPARTANs, these bioengineered and technologically augmented warriors are the best - quiet, professional and deadly. As the ferocious Covenant attack begins, a handful of SPARTANs stand ready to wage ultimate war. And at least one of them - the SPARTAN 'Master Chief' - will live to fight another day on a mysterious and ancient artificial world called Halo..."

***


I'll be honest: I've never quite understood the love some people have for the Halo universe. I've played all of the games, from the original, Combat Evolved, through to Bungie's swansong, last week's Reach. Hell, I was one of the very few to follow the SPARTANs into the Real-Time Strategy-space in the insipid Halo Wars, thinking that the experience of the broader mythos, away from Master Chief's isolationist laser focus, might inspire some affection in me. It didn't.

From afar, I've admired the spectacles of the Halo games... the breathtaking set-pieces, the invention of the worldbuilding, in particular the complex interplay between the stock space marines - the UNSC - and the Covenant, a ruthless race of sleek alien invaders, one of whom Master Chief had to team up with a few games ago. But I've always felt Bungie got rather more credit than they were due. In terms of storytelling, the franchise has been all over the place in its myriad iterations; never once the equal of the ideas you can see straining to punch through the thick titanium armour of the awkward exposition Halo games have made their proverbial bread and butter. I've found them fundamentally sound, with bulletproof, if idiosyncratic gameplay and a rich enough backdrop to make further encounters worth the price of entry, but artistically, not a little crass.

Halo: The Fall of Reach hasn't changed my perspective on that one iota. What it's done, this updated edition of a decade-old book composed in a scant seven weeks with little to no input from the creative team behind the property in the first place (and breathe) is clued me in on all that the Halo games could have been. Eric Nylund's novel gives us a landscape as ubiquitous to this generation as the snowy kingdom behind a certain wardrobe door was to another, and yet for the first time, we have a vantage point from which to admire it. Moreover, he proffers up a context for the characters and crises of the games proper, enriching them immeasurably in so doing. High praise, this, all things considered: The Fall of Reach makes me want to play through the whole Halo saga again, with the depth so lacking in each of the games - in terms of storytelling, you understand; Bungie have the gameplay equation down to a T - now present and correct. And all because I've read a tie-in novel. Who'd have thunk it?

If this was proscribed reading for an understanding of the Halo games when it first came out, ten years ago, I wish someone had thought to tell me. Thankfully, I managed to get Eric Nylund's novel under my belt before Reach itself arrived, and as I suspected - though it may be particularly the case given that the game and the book in question are both precursors to Combat Evolved, chronicles of pivotal events occurring in concert - I enjoyed the fiction of Reach a great deal more than I have any of Bungie's other efforts. Equally, the fiction of The Fall of Reach surprised me: there's plenty of Starship Troopers-style SPARTAN on grunt action, sure, and it's narrated with an immediacy bordering on voyeurism, but the larger part of Nylund's tie-in is about the small potatoes. We begin and end on Planet Reach; between times, however, this is not a story of explosive intergalactic battles (of which there are nevertheless enough to satisfy that end of the market) so much as it is an unexpectedly personal account of the kids co-opted into Dr. Halsey's experimental program. Among them, John, candidate number 117 - you might have heard of him - who we watch evolve from a six year-old bully to a soldier, then a leader, and at last, the Master Chief; none other. As late-game guest star Cortana concludes, "The Master Chief was much more than Dr. Halsey and the press releases had indicated," and so he is.

Not just a gun attached to an arm, then. Huh.

All of which isn't to say Eric Nylund's novel is some transcendent specimen of fiction. It isn't. Its composition is as by-the-numbers as you'd expect given that only four (presumably mad) months passed between the conception of The Fall of Reach to its publication... though from time to time Nylund does have his moments. He asks the big questions - for instance "Was Dr. Halsey a monster? Or just doing what had to be done to protect humanity?" - and though he hardly gives such issues the room to develop, credit to the gent for the attempt; it's more successful, certainly, than any of the various games' attempts.

The Fall of Reach, then, isn't the book to get your other half pumped for some co-op Halo action, but what it sets out to do - which is to entertain, to intrigue, and to enrich the largely wasted promise of the fiction hinted at in the games - it does, and quick smart at that.

Now. Back to Team Slayer...

***

Halo: The Fall of Reach
by Eric Nylund
August 2010, Tor US

Buy this book from
Amazon.co.uk / Amazon.com /
IndieBound / The Book Depository

Recommended and Related Reading

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

Book Review: Dead Space Martyr by Brian K. Evenson


Buy this book from

"We have seen the future: a universe cursed with life after death.

"It all started deep beneath the Yucatan peninsula, where an archaeological discovery took us into a new age, bringing us face-to-face with our origins and destiny.

"Michael Altman had a theory no one would hear. It cursed our world for centuries to come.

"This, at last, is his story."

***

There's been a lot of talk about the viability of shared worlds recently. On the one hand, after decades of marginalisation such that print magazines have established an historical tradition of ignoring franchise fiction, tie-ins and brand adaptations have become increasingly visible of late. Much less quote unquote "fringe," I would argue (from, admittedly, my position on the fringes of such fonts of literary criticism). It's difficult to quantify exactly why the tides have turned so dramatically, insofar as perception is notoriously difficult to measure, but they certainly have: for all the proof that particular pudding might have needed, see the winner of this year's David Gemmell Legend award, a Black Library novel by Graham McNeill.

Shared worlds are more viable, commercially if not yet critically, than ever before. In light of McNeill's Warhammer novel triumphing over such supposed genre favourites as Joe Abercrombie, Brandon Sanderson, previous winner Pierre Pevel, and the late, lamented Robert Jordan's last turn on The Wheel of Time, things might be on the up in those terms too. In any event, these days, it's not altogether uncommon to hear of notable authors lending their talents to tie-in fiction, and the candidates range far and wide. Michael Moorcock will write a Doctor Who novel; Neil Gaiman just handed in a script for an episode of the cult British show proper. Renowned sci-fi bestseller Greg Bear has a trilogy based on the Halo video games and indeed the pre-existing fiction to have come from that franchise forthcoming. Then there's Predator: South China Seas, by experimental auteur Jeff VanderMeer, and Dead Space: Martyr, the latest tie-in set to explode the perception of its mode of storytelling as an avenue of hack trash.

And why not? A good story's a good story, right? Given a capable author's hand, that's a truth no genre fan would dare dispute, and Brian Evenson is nothing if not capable. The crossover author has, as B. K. Evenson, dabbled in shared worlds before, with Aliens: No Exit and "Pariah," a short story in last year's Halo anthology. As I understand it, however, he came to fame as a former Mormon whose controversial debut, Altmann's Tongue, rather set the cat among the pigeons among the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Evenson's literary work has since seen comparisons to the likes of Borges, Ballard and Burroughs. His genre fiction, too, has been notable: Last Days took home the ALA/RUSA for Best Horror Novel of 2009, and before even that, The Open Curtain came near enough to the Edgar and the Shirley Jackson. Following in those footsteps, Dead Space: Martyr looked for all intents and purposes like another jewel in the shared worlds crown.

No such luck.

It's not the fiction's fault. All told, the Dead Space lore is rich - scriptwriters including Warren Ellis and Antony Johnston saw to that - if, admittedly, rather derivative. In the original game, space carpenter Isaac found himself the lone hope for humanity on a ship carrying a powerful religious artifact which just so happened to transform men into monsters. Horrifically deformed monsters, rendered from flesh and blood and bone, come to that, and virtually unstoppable. Cue a bunch of creepy spaceship exploration, in which ominous nuggets of the backstory (an effective enough riff on Scientology) were dispensed like collectible Pez, and tonnes of nasty fun in the form of "strategic dismemberment." EA went whole hog with the cross-media promotion, too, with a comic book, an animated movie, an ARG and an underrated on-rails shooter for the Wii in the form of Dead Space: Extraction. Isaac, we came to understand, wasn't really the crux of the overarching Dead Space fiction: it was all about The Marker, a monolith equivalent. And in Dead Space: Martyr, we learn at last how the Marker was discovered... how the spread of Unitology under its fallen messiah Michael Altman came to spell an apocalypse.

It's just a shame the revelations so pivotal to the greater fiction are made with such nonchalance. Evenson has a good story, the means to tell it well, and a shared world more potent than most of the puny excuses for space marines to shoot monsters video games are guilty of purveying. Yet Dead Space: Martyr is a onerous experience. Evenson makes nothing of Altman's pivotal narrative, engages not at all with neither the significance nor the weight of the events he's chosen to recount. Altman's journey from curious scientist to Unitology Godhead feels rote and distant. Those other characters in Dead Space: Martyr are never more than caricatures, and though the action (almost all of which is clumped together in the last quarter) is exciting enough, it too suffers from the sense that Evenson is merely going through the motions. He's played the game, evidently - I'll give the man that: when the Marker finally makes its move, the ensuing horror feels like a blow-by-blow description of similar such scenes in the original game. It's authentic, yes, but stirring? Not at all.

Dead Space: Martyr is a far cry from the worst tie-in literature I've read. Evenson does a credible job of taking us from point A to point B, and the trip's not long, nor, from time to time, without its highlights. Unfortunately, for the larger part, Dead Space: Martyr has little to recommend it. Evenson's well-documented storytelling knack is here in workmanlike form. As shared worlds fiction comes, it could be been - should have been - another home run. In fact, Dead Space: Matyr is unremarkable at best.

***

Dead Space: Martyr
by B. K. Evenson
July 2010, Tor US

Buy this book from
Amazon.co.uk / Amazon.com /
IndieBound / The Book Depository

Recommended and Related Reading