Art imitates life, and vice versa – can we do better with the stories we tell? House of the Dragon is back, and this year we'll likely see the most horrifying politics to ever grace television – I assume the show will be pretty brutal too. The Dance of Dragons depicts a conflict between the two halves of the ruling Targaryen family, where victory will come in the form of the Iron Throne and defeat will mean extermination. It also extends to the ramification and enforcement of laws: a victory by Alicent's "greens" will doom the future of female inheritance in the realm, and a victory by Rhaenyra's "blacks" will see every royal decision made by Aegon II questioned. The Iron Throne in the books, art by Marc Simonetti The future of America looks eerily similar as the 2024 election looms. Trump's Republicans have made it abundantly clear that they will attempt to erase the existence of transgender Americans – legally, if not violently – and retribution at all levels against anyone who failed to support Trump in the past decade. I recommend watching John Oliver's Last Week Tonight piece on it from June 16, 2024 – or you can read about potential actions here. I'm terrified of the real threat ahead, and I can't help but ask whether there is a better story we should be reflecting on than endless "fire and blood." Robin Hobb is a fantasy author who started her Realm of the Elderlings series just a year before George R.R. Martin began A Song of Ice and Fire, and has since completed hers with sixteen novels to George's five and 'counting'. There are frankly a ton of similarities between the series, but that's a topic for another time. Rhaenyra, Daenerys or Kettricken; she's a Sad Queen Where Martin's series is at all times focused on who will capture the Iron Throne, Hobb's asks about the nature and morality of actual rulership. Despite dozens of contenders, Martin never actually shows a decent ruler (arguably Ned comes the closest for his thirty seconds as regent). Most of Hobb's are pretty good, on the other hand. King Shrewd Farseer is old and stuck in his ways, but gets things done. Verity and Dutiful have their flaws, but are damn good when the chips are down. It is horrifying when Regal shows up to play the game of thrones, backstabbing, embezzling and partying in a time of absolute crisis. The parallels to Trump are uncanny despite her writing in 1997, and I can't imagine how much further Hobb might have gone with his brutal characterization had she first experienced the real thing. But Hobb's philosophy can be boiled down even further. Kettricken is the heir of the Mountain Kingdom in the books, where the cultural understanding of royalty is inverted. What foreigners call the King or Queen, their people call the Sacrifice. It is the role of the Mountain Kingdom's ruler to serve their people in all things, ensuring a brighter future for their people. They are humble, cautious and wise. Princess Kettricken, by Magali Villeneuve When Kettricken comes to the Six Duchies as the betrothed of Prince Verity Farseer, she is deeply uncomfortable with the royal treatment she receives. For the sake of appearances, she is repeatedly stopped from doing her own chores – let alone helping her subjects, as she was raised to be proud of doing. Although we mostly hear about her second-hand, her arc feels like a tragedy of necessary political maneuvering. Until actual tragedy strikes, and an invading force lands near the unprotected capital. Fitz, our POV character, is in the port town of Neatbay preparing to die fighting off the horde (the theme of sacrifice is a big one). All is doomed, but at least he can serve his King to the last breath. Then Kettricken comes in with her personal guard, dressed for battle and giving a pep talk that would make Théoden proud. While Regal pulls back his armies to defend his vineyards and opulent palaces, Kettricken personally rallies the terrified soldiers of this unfamiliar kingdom and saves more or less everything (turns out as the main character of a huge fantasy series, Fitz is kinda important later on). This is one of those sublime moments in fiction for me which instantly break my heart and reknit it. Even though she never quite reaches the same peak in the rest of the 16-book series, this moment cemented Kettricken as one of my favourite characters, full stop. Many people (myself very much included) take a lot of their worldly understanding from the media they consume these days. So do we really need the brutality and hate of House of the Dragon to repeat today's real life politics? Or can we talk about better alternatives, where instead of fighting for a jagged throne we work for a brighter future? At the end of today's playlist is Nightwish's "Weak Fantasy" – give it a listen or check out the lyrics, which include: "every child [is] worthy of a better tale." -- Thanks for reading! I highly recommend Hobb's work, so don't worry: the main story is actually only a quick and breezy nine books long. Until next week <3

Comparing two fictional locations to uncover a world of meaning Early Influence When I was young, I spent a lot of time listening to C.S. Lewis' The Chronicles of Narnia on CD; it was a full audio production, which may explain why it slipped my mind when I was writing about audiobooks two months ago. My main recollection is that I would spend sick days making my way through the series – I was always getting strep throat, in addition to many days when social anxiety was utterly crippling me – but it may have also been a go-to on rainy weekend or summer days. I daresay that Narnia might be the single most significant story in shaping my love for speculative fiction from an early age. Yet, I don't think I could accurately describe the plot of five or six of the seven books – I remember Aslan's sacrifice and the battle, but no clue what the confrontation with Jadis looked like in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The exception might be The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which evokes many of my favourite aspects of SFF – but I want to keep it shorter today, so I'll mark that as something to discuss another time. 'The Wood Between Worlds’ by CallaAndAI Dive In It is to The Magician's Nephew (narratively the first book in the series, but the sixth published) that I attribute my endless fascination with entering and exploring other worlds. Two British children stumble into a kind of multiversal hub in the form of a vast, sleepy forest scattered with pools that will take them to different worlds. Already incredible. But then the first world they enter – "Charn" – is on the verge of death, and they set loose the evil that caused its ruin. As soon as I was old enough for those descriptions to make sense to me, I was stuck to them like Edmund to Turkish delight. The dead city of Charn, by ElectricalBee Sadly Lewis' focus on the 'Wood Between the Worlds' ends there, besides allowing the group to reach the just-forming Narnia in the same book. The Last Battle brings up the possibility of using the Wood to allow seven adults and former protagonists to return to Narnia, but on their way they get hit by a train and sent straight to heaven. (Man, nothing in speculative fiction can hold a candle to the disturbing light of Christianity sometimes.) I had pretty much forgotten about the Wood, until a few years ago when I read a book that tries to present a more grown-up version of Narnia. The Neitherlands - generated with AI I've discussed The Magicians and its protagonist here before, but skirted around the mechanics of its plot. Author Lev Grossman actually echoes many details of the original, substituting magic buttons for Lewis' magic rings. Decades after the children originally travel between worlds, our protagonists find one of the buttons and begin to explore. The button takes them to a vast, dark and grey world. Quentin, Alice and Penny emerge from a cold fountain into an empty courtyard surrounded by strange buildings, but with roads which lead to infinite more courtyards which only vary in their architecture and whether their fountains are open or closed. Grossman is great at subverting the wonder of such a moment though, and the scene is all about Quentin's rage at Alice and Penny. More than anything, the Neitherlands (The Magicians' name for its hub world) reminded me at first glance of The House in Piranesi or of the internet's fascination with endlessly liminal spaces. It took an additional nudge to help me remember, make the connection and grin for an hour afterward. Quentin spots a sapling poking up through the paving stones of a courtyard. That's it – barely significant to him, beyond a reminder of entropy. But as a subtle nod to the reader, I think it's genius. Even though Grossman has made clear that he has no particular explanation in mind, it invites the reader to make connections and find meaning. (As I write that it sounds a little hollow, but I still love it.) 'The Wood Between the Worlds' by Kecky The Connection Grossman's commentary supports the idea that the Neitherlands are The Wood Between the Worlds, in some form. Just as pavement and buildings have been imposed upon the grass and trees, intricate and unique fountains have been built atop the Wood's pools. In Narnia the pools dry and are overgrown with the death of a world; here the fountain seems to simply remain locked, an abstract monument to a dead reality. (I had also interpreted that the fountains were more difficult to enter than the pools, suggesting a level of fear and desire for control over how and when travel between worlds occurs. But it's possible there are just a lot of dead worlds, or that Narnia also required specific rings for specific worlds. Hit me with any thoughts!) Themes already emerge: the natural cycle of life and death in the Wood vs. the desire of humanity (or perhaps other conscious beings) to be remembered beyond their finite existence. The sapling poking through – and the growing devastation throughout Grossman's trilogy – is a reminder of entropy, that nature will eventually reclaim all. Each paving stone might as well feature Shelley's wonderful poem. Penny eventually finds his way into the buildings of the Neitherlands, and finds that they are libraries containing all the knowledge of the multiverse, from vast magic to the histories of individual lives. This additional level of detail reminds me of 'Pitcher Plant', which I discussed a couple weeks ago. Ultimately, it seems that even these libraries will be reclaimed by the Wood. So, who paved paradise? My interpretation – again mirroring my understanding of Piranesi – is that it is a reflection of our subconscious as a society. Our desire for longevity – and perhaps the same desire across many worlds – has shaped the meta-structure of our existence. But I don't necessarily have an answer for the Neitherlands' rapid descent into chaos over the course of the series, beyond that aspect perhaps only being true for Quentin. Emerging from the Pool TL;DR: I loved a subtle nod in a book and wanted to write about it. Yet I think it's worth discussing, for how the meta commentary by Grossman adds layers of meaning to an already fascinating world (or two). Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear any thoughts about this connection or any similar authorial nods that it might remind you of!

Discussing a book which defies categorization Shades of Possibility The future is Red. The world is elegant and crystalline; human minds merging and separating in a vast network, needing no physical shape but capable of taking any, in sleek mechanical design. The Agency monitors and corrects any flaw in the utopian system. The future is Blue. The world is lush and alive; humans live in wondrous symbiosis with their environment, rigid technology long having proved inferior to clever and flexible evolution. Life is meticulously planted, nurtured and controlled in the utopia of Garden. These futures are incompatible. To continue existing, one side must destroy the other. Each sends agents into the past, to divert the current of time away from the enemy’s future and toward their own. This novel is a love story. Red and Blue’s conflict echoes through time - art by Laya Rose Red and Blue are opposing agents, sent up- and down-thread to ensure the future that created them comes to fruition. (In the book, up-thread refers to traveling into the past and down-thread into the future.) The size and shape of Red and Blue’s individual moves to shape history are as varied as the epithets they use to address one another (more on that in a moment). Whether destroying the creative and scientific minds of Atlantis with an unforeseen volcanic eruption or silently killing one pilgrim who would otherwise have played a necessary role in the foundation of a society, both Red and Blue are weapons aimed by their respective sides at the most pivotal moments in history. A plethora of letters - art by Kelsi Jo Silva We arrive at a moment of change in Red and Blue’s conflict across and beyond time; it is unclear how long each has been operating, but they could each have been working towards their side’s goals for centuries or millennia by the time we meet them. What is clear is that they have come to appreciate each other’s elegance and cunning in the strands they weave. The novel follows these two characters as they exchange ‘letters’ in moments of having thwarted their opponent. The letters take many strange forms: one from Red to Blue is contained in a beaker of water, and must be read via an MRI machine. Another is meticulously crafted by Blue in the growth rings of a forest of trees, only legible through destruction of that natural beauty. The modes of communication are as complex, cruel and beautiful as the messages they contain. “I want to be a body for you. I want to chase you, find you, I want to be eluded and teased and adored; I want to be defeated and victorious—I want you to cut me, sharpen me. I want to drink tea beside you in ten years or a thousand. Flowers grow far away on a planet they’ll call Cephalus, and these flowers bloom once a century, when the living star and its black-hole binary enter conjunction. I want to fix you a bouquet of them, gathered across eight hundred thousand years, so you can draw our whole engagement in a single breath, all the ages we’ve shaped together.” “I love you. I love you. I love you. I'll write it in waves. In skies. In my heart. You'll never see, but you will know. I'll be all the poets, I'll kill them all and take each one's place in turn, and every time love's written in all the strands it will be to you.” ― Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, This is How You Lose the Time War Struggle, Understand, Love - art by Laya Rose The novel is written by Ontarian author Amal El-Mohtar - who writes Blue’s letters - and American author Max Gladstone - who writes Red’s. This amplifies the dialogue between Red and Blue wonderfully and (I imagine) it meant the two authors could attempt to surprise and out-do one another. It’s hard to imagine that this book could have been such a triumph of language, imagination and emotion had it been the work of only one person. I chose this book as the focus of my ‘Passion Project’ for one of my college classes because I love the sheer beauty it presents on every page, and because I truly believe it transcends every genre and categorization that is placed upon it. A couple of my posts in the past have touched upon my ongoing journey toward understanding both romantic relationships and my own romantic orientation. So while this might not be a typical experience, I think This is How You Lose the Time War also gave me a very helpful example of completely non-physical romance. Red and Blue’s connection is born through mutual admiration, and their fascination grows through continued epistolary exchanges. I wonder if Red and Blue see each other as representative of a potential escape from the harsher aspects of their respective societies, beyond the personal connection they begin to cherish. There is so much to talk about with regards to this lovely novel, and I imagine I’ll post about aspects of it again in the future. For now, two of my friends were kind enough to spend some time chatting with me about the book and their experiences with it. Give a listen to my conversation with Laura in podcast form, and some highlights from my conversations with both Joanna and Laura in video form below. I sincerely hope some part of this project piques your interest enough to check out this book for yourself, so you can see for yourself how much all of our praise falls short of the masterpiece that is This is How You Lose the Time War.

The many deaths of Dracula and the power of new perspectives Last week I examined vampires in their role as monsters and as the embodiment of a few major societal fears, in light of some personal favourite portrayals. I glossed over many of the more obvious – such as death, darkness and the unknown – but they may come up yet. Beginning today and finishing next week, I'd like to flip the perspective from external to internal. What can we learn by going inside the mind of vampires and looking outward? I love modern vampire art - by NyutaValerius Childer of Dracula Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897) may not have been the first work of modern vampire fiction, but it has certainly been the most influential – to the extent that people may genuinely confuse character and creature. Adaptations, parodies and references to the book suffuse the speculative fiction genre and continually break into mainstream pop culture, with two big-budget films releasing in 2023 alone. Every month I do my best to attend the Dumpster Raccoon film series at The Revue on Roncesvalles here in Toronto, celebrating queer-coded and often 'trashy' films. Of the eleven events I've attended so far, four have been vampire flicks: The Lost Boys (1987), Alucarda (1977), Vamp (1986) and Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992). Each was incredible in its own unique way, with Alucarda even serving as a half-decent adaptation of Carmilla (1872). Alucarda and Vamp posters by @thelastjohnyontheleft, Dracula poster by @artbytesslyn Two of my favourite stories pick up from (near) the end of Bram Stoker's original novel. The first is a short story by Gwendolyn Kiste: "The Eight People Who Murdered Me (Excerpt from Lucy Westenra's Diary)" featured in Nightmare Magazine and available to read free online. Kiste's evocative piece follows the trend of short speculative fiction applying a supernatural lens to current societal issues. In this case, she also weaves in both an established fictional character – Lucy Westenra – and themes of a century's critical discussion surrounding her. Lucy Westenra, Socialite // Unveiled, by Igor Kieryluk And Bram Stoker's original version of Lucy is worthy of critique. As a young socialite proposed to by three suitors on the same day early in the novel, it's easy to see Lucy as the 'bimbo' to Mina Harker's 'final girl'. Once turned, Lucy also feeds exclusively on children in a "demonic mother-parody, taking nourishment from children instead of giving it" [Leslie Ann Minot, 2017]. Though horrifying and fairly unique, this reversal has more to do with society's view of Lucy's femininity than anything related to her actual character. Gwendolyn Kiste's short story gives Lucy a voice for once, and she speaks to the sundry ways society failed her and then blamed her for the consequences. Her voice is harsh on the protagonists of Dracula, but also feels indelibly true to them and society as a whole: Van Helsing sees Lucy only as a helpless victim and object of scientific interest, and it never enters his mind to connect with her as a human being. We are just as guilty, aren't we? I can't recommend Kiste's story highly enough, especially if you have the time and interest to also read Dracula beforehand (it's in the public domain, so there are plenty of free audiobook versions available!) Mirror mirror on the wall - art by Defexx Kim Newman's Anno Dracula (1992-2019) series imagines a world where the heroes of Bram Stoker's novel fail to destroy Dracula at the final moment. The first book opens brutally with Abraham Van Helsing and Jonathan Harker's heads on the fence of Buckingham Palace, and fellow protagonist Jack Seward falling into madness as he slowly transforms into Jack the Ripper. Stoker himself is even a character, wanted by Dracula for his treasonous version of history. Developed alongside the legendary Neil Gaiman, Anno Dracula's world is a brilliant and absurd mash-up of every vampire story, with tons of other fictional and real historical characters thrown in for good measure. Lord Ruthven (who I mentioned last week as the first modern vampire) serves as Prime Minister under monarchs Dracula and Queen Victoria; Carmilla turned protagonist Genevieve Dieudonné; Doctors Jeckyll and Moreau seek to understand vampirism; the Holmes brothers tackle the vampire problem from opposite ends of society. The following three novels expand the narrative to WW1 – where elite German fliers like Göring and Von Richthofen don't fly planes but are instead monstrously transformed vampires with Gatling cannons strapped to their wings, – 1959 Italy – where Dracula's new wedding attracts serial killers, mystery and a certain undead Bond, – and 1980s Hollywood – where a ritual involving 13 Dracula films by the likes of Welles and Coppola elevates the references to new realms of strangeness. Narcissa (Vampire: The Masquerade character) by Kera Now I have two Anno Dracula books yet to go, and even my passion for creative worldbuilding is feeling the strain of Newman's achievement with this series. Yet the choice to loosely follow three vampire women through the decades of alternate history lends a connective soul to this endless expanding narrative – aside from everlasting antagonist Dracula himself. Anno Dracula asks real questions in addition to offering non-stop cameos and subtle nods. Does vampirism snuff out the creative spark of artists? Edgar Allen Poe continues to haunt the 1980s in this world, but it seems like his "warm" period is all anyone cares for. Given the choice, shouldn't everyone turn? Not everyone does, and their choice of humanity and mortality over love and undeath is genuinely fascinating – even if the romance in these books is their lowest point for me. What is 'life' without incredible art? by Zara H I'll leave it there for today, and return next week with some final intriguing aspects of vampires and their perspectives. What does it mean to have no reflection? What effect does the passage of time have on undead minds? Addiction, religion, memory, sex & euphoria – next week. Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts on Kiste's short story, the original Dracula text or the vast and strange world of Anno Dracula – or anything I mentioned last week~

Adam-Troy Castro’s short story draws you in and never lets go I found this story (and many others I treasure) in The Best American Science Fiction and Fantasy anthology collection edited and assembled by John Joseph Adams and rotating annual guest editors; “Pitcher Plant” specifically was featured in the 2019 edition with guest editor Carmen Maria Machado, who has written some excellent fiction of her own. Beautiful cover art by Galen Dara The story is also available free online here – I highly recommend reading it beforehand or alongside me, but I'll also offer quotes and brief summaries as I go. It rides the line between fantasy and horror to build ambience and narrative, so I'll offer a minor content warning for age, death and entrapment. Without further ado~ The House (Paragraphs 1-4) Generated with AI We are immediately presented with a structure which uncannily defies first architectural logic – "a study in architecture at war with itself" – and then the laws of physics – "none of [the building's features] stay the same for more than a second or two." It is a place that defies categorization, a perpetual outlier far separated from humanity. You are impressed. Most normal houses provide no challenge to you. You’re not just an excellent thief; you’re the first thief. This is a story where the second-person point of view simply feels correct. For me it evokes a choose-your-own-adventure novel or a D&D game, with the caveat that the most sensible path has already been selected based on the vast experience of my character. More importantly, it draws the reader into the weird ambience of the story and invites them to 'solve' the mystery of this place alongside and through the character they embody. The house then defies expectations in a third way, emanating only boiling suffering – "somebody's personal hell" – where there should be "the warmth of the lives within … the mark of the births and deaths, the lovemaking and the hate, the complacency and the fear." I love how this description builds a supernatural sense onto a potentially relatable experience, keeping the reader tied to the character even while introducing alien aspects. It would take insanity or unlimited self-confidence or unconditional devotion to duty to willingly enter such a place. You don’t hesitate. Perfection. This line establishes that our point of view character will not be turning back, once again inviting the reader to embrace the character's confidence and experience the world as he is. Few horror stories suspend disbelief so efficiently and thoroughly, let alone while also ramping up the excitement. Warnings (Paragraphs 5-10) By Jeremy Vickery It is quickly apparent upon entering the mansion that time works differently inside than out – the image through the window frozen rather than chaotic. I love that even though both states are equally inexplicable, our point-of-view character’s narrative interprets the change to learn that they will not be pressed for time within. The supernatural often defies logic and understanding, but it can always be appreciated by the reader through effective context. The dust covering the desk is so thick that the paper itself is impossible to read at first, but you sweep away the detritus of years and read the words that have been left for you in ink as black as your purpose here: LEAVE US ALONE! It’s the first pathetic thing you’ve seen since your arrival, and it lets you know the tenants are frightened of you. "Are we the baddies?" Even within the vast possibilities present in the format of short speculative fiction stories, it's rare to be placed in the perspective of the villain – if nothing else, it makes delivering a proper moral a lot tougher. There's still plenty of story to go of course, but it is clearly directing us to question the morality being presented to us. The exploring and traversal scenes again remind me of D&D in the best possible way, and remind us that our character is fluid and cunning in pursuit of his goals. In response to finding infinite hallways in either direction, we get a nice inspirational quote: "in any situation where you’re offered two equally unacceptable options, the only true solution is to make a point of choosing neither." This moment is fascinating in the context of the overall story. Does our character really believe in and operate by this rule, or is it merely an excuse to push forward towards a goal? If there is never an option of turning back, perhaps moving forward is always the only option. Most useful to you as a stranger struggling to make his way through this place, that she is swaddled in darkness. Darkness, you decide, is the way to her. Ominous, yet a smooth transition forward. No matter the will of the mansion's inhabitants, there are yet to be any true obstacles to our character's inevitable progression. My fantasy-trained brain jumped on the ability to move between shadows on my first few reads, but I think there is a more interesting explanation – that our character has a myriad of methods for encroaching upon his goals. I saw something that … was as frightened of ending as it was of continuing. It hated me for being there. It hated me, thinking I was you. Our adversary speaks from within the darkness, telling a story that begins to illustrate his obsession – and our own. Life's Horrors (Paragraphs 11-19) Generated with AI For an egregious recap of the rising tension of the story: Our character enters the bedroom of a young woman grown unfathomably ancient without having experienced any kind of life. Though blind and atrophied, she manages to address us and tell us how 'he' found her left for dead and brought her here – though her young daughter eventually died. “It was a war, you son of a bitch. You bastard. You cruel worthless piece of shit bastard. Of course I know you. Don’t you think I’ve been waiting all this time for you? Don’t you know he’s been waiting all this time for you?” Our character is completely unaffected by her malice, having heard it all many times before. He even lets her live, even though in the same scene he demonstrates that he is able to end the life of a similarly ancient rat in the room. A small detail that strikes me in this room is our character's attention to meaning. He reflects on the ersatz, empty existence of the perpetually spinning dollhouse and thinks, "They don’t even possess charm or entertainment value, which is the least one should expect from toys." He had a similar thought in the very first room, "the bookshelves stuffed with volumes chosen for their bindings instead of their literary value, the fireplace sitting black behind an iron grate." Clearly, our character firmly believes that existence is worthless in and of itself – and everything in this house stands in contradiction to him. Three further encounters cement this conflict. More bookshelves, this time preserving the memories of long-dead authors – our character takes pleasure in returning these to dust and void. Then a (would be) stillborn fetus in a jar, given an eternity of pointless existence by the architect of this mansion. Finally, a roomful of skulls and the architect's voice returned: “I came upon all of them after you were already done; I took what you see all around you because I thought it would be instructive to show you all these faces again, when the time finally came for us to meet. I want you to know how seriously I took my awareness that someday I’d be meeting you too.” The architect has devoted his far-overlong existence into escaping the grasp of Death, bargaining emotionally and logically to the bitter end. But we are finally here for him, and we step into the abyss to finish our work. The Pitcher Plant (Paragraphs 20-28) Welcome - Generated with AI The architect's speech on our long fall down concludes the point that the young woman raised. They believe they are fighting against all of the evil and violence in the world, and see it embodied by Death. “I know murderers,” he says. “I have seen the look in their eyes as they drove knives into innocent hearts.” So have you. “I know dying.” So do you. … All of this is so familiar to you that that you are relieved to strike bottom. Death himself might share the architect's perspective, has had this interaction countless times before yet knows that he has no recourse but to fulfill his duty – brutal. Death then reflects on every plea he has heard, concluding by placing this moment in the context of his eternal existence: Many appealed to fairness. It is not a language you speak, and even if it were, there would still be little chance of you speaking it now, not after you have had to undergo such hardship, such inconvenience, just to claim a life you should have been able to take years ago. Today you will wear your most terrible face. Of course, the moment of confrontation feels anticlimactic. A withered husk of a man laments that despite all warnings, we have finally come. Taking his life only gives proof of "how many years since he felt joy, or hope, or anything that would have given his stupid, finite existence a point." Truly, truly, read the last few paragraphs (link goes directly to them) if you haven't already; I simply can't do them justice with a recap. Just as a fly is trapped by a pitcher plant in the moment that it tastes the sweet and sticky sap, Death sees his downfall in the moment that the architect crumbles into dust. The story's final paragraph makes the horror personal to Death, yet I find myself far more disturbed at the idea of an entire world left to moulder, in the style of the mansion and its inhabitants, without his intervention. It is a common enough idiom that death gives life meaning, but I can't think of another story that encapsulates and explores the idea as succinctly and effectively as this one. We get subtle hints throughout that Death cares for meaning over continuation and that the architect is utterly obsessed with escaping – and even defeating – Death. This obsession robbed the architect of a meaningful life, and the fact that he achieved his goal means that it has effectively done the same for all beings. But does Death deserve a share of the blame for not leaving the old man alone? Returning to that perfect line about entering the house, I think both "unlimited self-confidence" and "unconditional devotion to duty" apply. But is that really obsession? Did Death have "two equally unacceptable options" here, or is he a force of nature thwarted only by man's folly? -- Thanks so much for reading! Let me know your thoughts on this story, I really hope you enjoyed it! Until next week~

What you eat, what you remember, how you survive. Last week I began to examine the questions of existence and self which vampires have been used to explore in fiction, mostly through the narratives of Dracula and a couple related works. I’ll go into more detail on a variety of those themes today, as I wrap up this subject for the time being. A Crimson Future - Generated with AI Life at what cost? A question at the core of many sympathetic vampire characters is simply: how do they justify their continued existence, when they must feed on blood to survive? Some stories are happy to ignore this question, because their characters may be likable but are by no means morally good. What we do in the Shadows – both film and TV show – makes plenty of black comedic jokes around the murderous nature of its characters, though the rare moments when that indiscriminate violence is shown on screen do carry real horror. Anno Dracula takes a different approach, emphasizing the ability of vampires to drink only a portion of blood. In that world where vampirism is widespread and accepted, waiters in night-friendly establishments frequently have taps running directly from their veins. Being fed on by a vampire is a social norm and pleasant in its way; but more on that later. Another direction, explored perhaps the most thoroughly in Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person – a fantastic Canadian film available on Crave – is the vampire seeking to survive without directly feeding on humans. She is conflicted throughout the film about sustaining her own life at the cost of the lives of others. These stories generally don’t allow for partial feeding, and see protagonists instead living mostly off of stolen medical blood bags. Of course, their morality and creativity are tested once those resources dwindle. This question drives at the very heart of the human condition: we also cannot survive without consuming other life forms or their products. Haven’t we all made the choice to either live with what we are (as in WwditS), or do our best to consume ethically (as in the other stories mentioned)? The final scene of Humanist Vampire reminds me of the respect held by Indigenous Peoples toward the buffalo and other life. On the other end of the spectrum, stories of tyrannical vampires who would keep humans as cattle are eye-opening reminders of our own fairly horrific food industry. Cassidy from Preacher, by Soo Lee Aside from having one of the best and bloodiest introductory scenes on TV, Proinsias Cassidy from Preacher is striking for his relationship with his vampirism. Perpetually shunned and hunted, Cassidy has no qualms with a survival rooted in violence yet can continually be seen looking for (and being denied) greater meaning than simple existence. In a show with a million varied and cruel evils, being among the least makes him a fairly tragic figure at times. Plus the umbrella is hilarious – just keep Starr away. The Precarity of Memory Although not the first aspect of vampires anyone would think of, some stories portray them as creatures defined by memory – stolen or lost. Anno Dracula and other tales have the souls, minds and memories of victims drained by the vampire through blood. This is narratively useful and interesting, adds to the underlying framework of the world and is symbolic both in the draining of life and the unholy denial of an afterlife. The fourth Anno Dracula book even has multiple characters’ souls fighting for control of the body which consumed them, like the genetic memories experienced by Alia in Dune. Usurped control is also a distinct possibility in the roleplaying game Vampire: The Masquerade, when absorbing the powers of a far more powerful and experienced elder – in all likelihood, your temporary victory will only amount to the elder consuming your mind from within. By Olga Kharyton Then there is Thousand Year Old Vampire, a single-player role playing game which uses dice and journaling to tell a tale of ageless existence. The game presents a narrative for you to engage with, but severely limits the number of experiences you can ever remember. This means that even you will forget your heroic deeds or horrific crimes even as the mortal world does, and that in order to learn and grow from an experience you will likely lose another defining aspect of yourself. What does it even mean to exist, when memory itself is so ethereal? Learning from our mistakes is a fundamental aspect of humanity and even evolution. To operate without it is to lose reason and mindfulness, driving forward on primal need without a care for consequences. What we do in the Shadows features two ancient vampires (The Sire and Petyr) who have devolved far from their original humanity. Even Dracula requires a restart in the Anno Dracula series, having grown weary and bloated after centuries of rule. Both of these ideas ultimately reflect the fragility of our own minds and personalities. As I concluded in my transhumanism series (check it out for more details), mindfulness is key to maintaining our sense of self and not being washed away in the fast-paced current of society. Whether staying true to ourselves in the face of social pressure or learning from past mistakes in new circumstances, mindfulness may be the human element which these vampires lack. The Invisible Self What does it mean to see nothing in the mirror? It is a staple of modern vampire stories that they are eternally unable to see their own reflection – many of which extend the phenomenon to having their image captured by cameras. One interesting parallel is the story of Medusa, cursed by the goddess Athena into a monstrous form incapable of surviving a glimpse of her own reflection – more on further parallels there in a moment. This curse upon vanity is appropriate for any vampire story where luxury and elegance are presented as synonymous with the undead condition. Vampire: The Masquerade codifies this for its Clan Lasombra, the only vampires who cast no reflections in that setting. Lasombra vampires by LamarRoe and Mhir Art More often, this trait is taken to reflect vampires’ soulless nature – implying the creature is only the echo or husk left behind by the death of the person they were in life. This can be fascinating in combination with the issues of memory discussed earlier, since vampires often grow and change in very different ways to the living. Their descent over time toward creatures of primal hunger and violence certainly evokes a soulless existence. As I mentioned toward the end of last week’s post, Anno Dracula frequently contemplates the relationship between vampirism and art, often concluding that the undead can only offer pale imitations of their creativity in life. That series also sees its vampires’ reflections on a spectrum from fully visible to utterly absent, depending on their bloodline. I don’t believe there is a correlation between those with reflections and those who maintain their creative spark – suggesting that they have kept their souls – but it’s easy to imagine. Ultimately, I think the theme of reflections can once again tie into our self-perception, mindfulness and identity. Strip away the supernatural and this is about the experience of not recognizing – or simply not liking – what we see when we look in the mirror. By accepting and attending to who we are and what we’re doing, maybe we can hold onto our souls for a little longer. The Vampire’s Kiss Hopefully the many vampiric traits and allegories I’ve explored so far have been sufficient context to discuss how they relate to sex, drugs and rock n’ roll (well, listen to the playlist for that last one). Often present but unremarked in vampire stories is the bliss experienced by the victim of a vampire’s bite. Narratively, this trait reflects the tendency of venomous predators paralyzing their prey – suggesting a fascinating kind of evolution for vampires. Thematically, it is anything that offers temporary pleasure at the cost of long term consequences: a dangerous drug high, an exciting but toxic relationship, you get the gist. Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3, by washanapple This is why Anno Dracula depicts feeding as socially acceptable and why Vampire: The Masquerade is a game focused heavily on relationships over time. The latter even makes it possible for the vampire to lick the bite wound closed, erasing the experience from the memory of their victim and leaving only a blissful haze. In some cases, the feeling is even deeply addictive. It can be an intense and scary subject, but what is fiction for if not trying to shed light on and understand these issues? A one-time loss of blood can be disrupting and disorienting for victims, and anything more gets dangerous quickly. Whether alive but wasting away, dead and drained or turned into a vampire, the allegorical consequences don’t reflect much optimism about the real ones. The myth of Medusa is an especially dark parallel here. A mortal woman who had ‘an affair’ (many authors question whether consent was involved – Natalie Haynes gives a great outline of this in Pandora’s Jar) with the god Poseidon in the temple of Athena, Medusa is cursed by the goddess to be shunned and feared until she is slain as a side quest by Perseus (Haynes’ book introduced me to an alternate statue depicting Medusa’s victory and I love the contrast between the two and the symbol the latter became). Medusa might as well be a vampire story, with a victim ‘surviving’ but losing everything. Addiction and abusive relationships rarely leave their victims happy and whole, and vampire stories reflect the devastating possibilities of those long-term effects. See the Light To end this series on a positive note, let’s talk about redemption. It’s exceedingly rare that a vampire is offered such a chance, more often ending in heroic self-sacrifice or simply doing their best to exist ethically like in Humanist Vampire. This overall trend might reflect the idea that they are without souls and incapable of real change, but more likely springs from the small number of good vampires. From IMDB I am given to understand that other stories have explored the topic of returning to humanity, but I’ll stick to Vampire: The Masquerade’s take today. In the game’s “World of Darkness”, Golconda is a mythical state of enlightenment wherein a vampire effectively regains their humanity. Achieving it requires living as a saint, while fighting not just simple human impulses but the horrifying temptations of vampirism. The game doesn’t even give players exact rules for the process; it is meant to be personal to the player, storyteller and their group. The fact that escaping the vampiric curse and returning to humanity requires a higher moral standard than actual most humans possess is no error. So many vampire stories depict objectively decent people forced into horrible situations. While working on this series I read a blog post and review which explored the What we do in the Shadows franchise as metaphorical of the immigrant and marginalized minority experience. Making these characters relatable is essential to getting audiences to engage with these stories, but it also adds a lot of value by safely exploring these issues through the lens of fiction and entertainment. -- Any vampire traits or stories I missed? Please let me know, I’d love to continue feeding my craving for these gems. Thanks for reading ♥️

Vampires are more than silly Halloween costumes – their nature and depictions in media have a lot to teach us about our societal fears. A mindless predator lurking beneath a superficially sophisticated surface. A creature which extends its unnatural existence by feeding on the very life of human beings. A parasite on society that promises loyal followers they can one day be just like it. An ever-hungrier tyrant which will either dominate or destroy our species if left unchecked. But enough about billionaires. Olivia’s Attendants by Dmitry Burmak Undying Fascination When did I fall in love with vampire stories? Rather than a moment of revelation, I think it transpired over years. Continued and varied exposure certainly acted as a catalyst. I recall appreciating Dracula (1897) for its epistolary and atmospheric storytelling during my first serious experience with the text in university. What We Do in the Shadows (2014) opened my eyes to the hilarious possibilities of combining speculative fiction with black and absurdist comedy. Dungeons & Dragons and Magic: The Gathering creatively reimagined vampires as long-term social antagonists and conquistador legions respectively. Vampires can be despotic tyrants, desperate addicts or “regular human bartenders”. In the same story, they can be the most elegant and most horrifying creatures on Earth. This is certainly the case in the world of Vampire: The Masquerade, a role-playing game where players embody distinct vampires across the spectrum of modern society. Their circumstances and appearances are malleable, but their underlying nature is constant: vampires seek to extend their own unnatural existence by draining the blood from our very veins (in many cases the blood carries aspects of the spiritual, emotional and mental self to the vampire alongside vitality). Modern civilization offers them a perfect blueprint for their hunts, by designating entire communities as vulnerable and/or exploitable. What monster better encapsulates and enacts our societal fears? You are formally invited to enter (generated with AI) Spinning the Web Though the modern vampire is said to have risen from John William Polidori’s The Vampyre (1819), that story’s titular Lord Ruthven is defined by staccato moments of violence amidst an elusive nobleman’s life. Carmilla (1872) and Dracula (1897) take a slower approach (often forgotten in modern tales), repeatedly feeding on their unknowing victims. Laura, Lucy Westenra and Jonathan Harker each become gradually weaker and confused even as their predators seem to gain youth and vibrancy. I find these scenes horrifying as allusions to gaslighting, where the vampire denies anything is wrong even while absorbing the very lives, minds and souls of their victims. As with many cases of gaslighting, it takes external intervention to save Laura and other victims from Carmilla. Lucy receives constant infusions of blood from her suitors and is nearly rescued by the knowledge of Van Helsing, but a miscommunication leaves her fatefully vulnerable. Jonathan is abandoned by Dracula and escapes on his own, but must be nursed back to health afterward. Lucy Westenra (more on her soon) - by Juan Pablo Rodriguez Padilla Expand this scenario beyond a single victim and it doesn’t take long for entire populations to be endangered. Bram Stoker’s text sees Van Helsing and company narrowly halt Dracula’s shadowy conquest of England in its earliest stages. Kim Newman’s Anno Dracula series reimagines that ending to depict a world where Dracula won, married Queen Victoria and spread his curse far and wide. Stephen King’s ‘Salem’s Lot (1975) is similar, with recognition and intervention arriving too late. In these stories, the vampire is a lurking threat which becomes exponentially more dangerous the longer it remains undiscovered. The very improbability of its existence in our world always plays a part in building narrative tension – arguably Dracula only ended the way it did because Van Helsing was already madly obsessed with such creatures and took no convincing. Have you spotted that next allusion yet? Probably none of the 19th-century authors had climate change in mind, but vampires can easily be taken to represent any issue struggling to be heard and believed in mainstream society. Domestic abuse is certainly a major contender, alongside perceived radicalization. Thankfully those issues are long gone! You’re welcome for the free advertising, Netflix The absolute best of these stories manage to surprise me with the vampire twist – that was honestly a huge reason why I enjoyed ‘Salem’s Lot. It has to be the focus of the story and bring the right atmosphere with it, though – I discussed last week why the random vampire in Hell Bent failed for me, and just this week The Ten Thousand Doors of January pulled the same trick to only slightly better effect. [Oh – totally unrelated, but I wholeheartedly recommend Midnight Mass on Netflix. Impeccable acting throughout, and from the same brilliant mind as The Haunting of Hill House and The Fall of the House of Usher. Sorry, I know it’s a weird place and time but ADHD, you know?] -- Anyway, there’s some of my favourite mainstream stories and the important morals they represent – in addition to being endlessly entertaining. Next week we go metatextual: Anno Dracula, Lucy Westenra, Vampire: The Masquerade and more.

Discussing worldbuilding in books by Alastair Reynolds, Leigh Bardugo and others Housekeeping: My post from last week featured a video and podcast for the first time, check it out if you missed it! I’ve added a link to a related interview I gave at the bottom of “Class Trip” from two weeks ago, find that post here. The Right Amount of Context What was the last book, TV show or movie that offered you too much exposition? How about too little? Where on that spectrum are you most comfortable? I live for mystery and ambiguity in fiction, and relish moments when my imagination can expand to fill in the gaps. It’s a big part of my distaste for today’s YA and “New Adult” books, which feel the need to explain everything up front so that readers can focus on the same tired teenage romance stories again and again. A.K. Larkwood’s The Serpent Gates presents a vast multiverse of possibility In many of my favourite franchises growing up, this potential for imagination manifested through vast settings: from the unexplored areas of Harry Potter and A Song of Ice and Fire to the infinite space of Dune and Star Trek. Each of these followed a single narrative thread in a world potentially quilted from thousands, and occasionally referenced ideas that had no immediate purpose yet were candy to my young imagination. Pop culture today seems determined to exterminate this experience I treasure. Our one true god Capitalism decrees that profits must be squeezed out of every last part of successful stories, so tranquil spaces of imagination are mulched into things like Pottermore, ten hours of CGI buffoonery named after a children’s book and the seamless explanation of Han Solo’s name. The Plot is the World Alastair Reynolds is among my favourite Sci-Fi authors working today. His short stories “Beyond the Aquila Rift” and “Zima Blue” were adapted to wide acclaim in the first season of Love, Death and Robots – check them out on Netflix if you haven’t already! Reynolds’ imagination is matched only by his determination to offer a quasi-scientific explanation for every idea he puts forward - making his books “hard science fiction” in the classical style. If you want to give him a shot, I’d highly recommend: Revenger if you’re up for a little bit of YA (I survived it, so you can too) Chasm City if you like a good SF thriller Pushing Ice for unadulterated Reynolds Science Fiction Out of almost any Alastair Reynolds book - Generated by AI Despite displaying more imagination than most entire bookshelves and tackling philosophical and scientific concepts which span the universe, Reynolds’ books often give me similar issues to those I have with YA and NA fiction. The fact that he has thought out explanations for everything means that his characters always have to arrive at those same conclusions and spell them out for the reader - often amidst the climactic action. This isn’t always a huge problem – barely noticeable in the books I recommended above and entirely tolerable in one of my other favourites, House of Suns. But it did go a long way toward dampening my enjoyment of Eversion and Redemption Ark, when otherwise cryptic and unaligned characters started solving fundamental questions of the universe together through conversation. Art shared by Alastair Reynolds on his blog in 2011 (artist unknown) The other issue I have is a simple lack of extraneity. House of Suns seems to offer infinite mysteries to a first- or even second-time reader as you follow a small group of characters cutting a swath across a far future galaxy. Yet when you look back, it’s easy to see how the pieces of Reynolds’ world fit perfectly together – with little room for further exploration. I think these both come down to the same thing: Reynolds gives a great deal of thought to everything he includes in his novels, so nothing is likely to appear that isn’t directly related to the plot. However vast the world may seem, it is strictly defined by the course and requirements of the narrative. Inextricably Bound That same relationship is perhaps even more pronounced in the dark fantasy novels Ninth House and Hell Bent by author Leigh Bardugo, known predominantly for her successful YA series. Similar to the Dresden Files (Jim Butcher) and Babel (R.F. Kuang), Bardugo draws on her intimate knowledge of a real world setting to tell the dark, modern and academic tale of protagonist Galaxy “Alex” Stern at Yale University. Alex Stern from Ninth House and Hell Bent, art by PhantomRin Mystery and sinister ambience imbue every page of these books, as Alex learns about and does her best to oversee the eldritch rituals being conducted by Yale’s secret societies. Leaving gaps in the world for the reader’s imagination to fill in should be as simple as including pictures of food in a cookbook – the entire horror genre is built on the principle of less-is-more. Sadly (in my opinion), Bardugo’s YA beginnings shine through when it comes to advancing the plot of these novels. The most painful example is the inclusion of a vampire in Hell Bent. The reveal caught me off guard in the best way, since the character seemed at first to be a random fantasy creature whose existence suggests a far more interesting world. In The Dresden Files, The Stranger Times, The Magicians or the book I’ll discuss next, that’s exactly what this vampire would have been. At the very most, he’s personally connected to the plot in a tangential way. No such luck in Hell Bent. It turns out he’s the only one, cursed into this form by something directly plot-related. Perhaps this is a strange thing to complain about, but it nonetheless truly dampened my excitement for the future of the series. When the Plot is Everything, and the World is Still Bigger If I ever write about worldbuilding and forget to praise The Library at Mount Char, please check in on my wellbeing. Scott Hawkins’ 2015 novel taught me a lot about how much is possible in the realm of speculative fiction, and stands alongside House of Leaves and This is How You Lose the Time War for me as a pillar of the genre. I’ll once again do my best not to spoil this novel, and instead focus on what it does from a structural perspective. Similar to Time War and to a lesser extent House of Suns, The Library at Mount Char has a plot which threatens to encompass all of reality. It deals with divinity like Game of Thrones deals with monarchy. (Another – perhaps surprising – comparison comes to mind here: His Dark Materials actually shares some big themes with Mount Char. I may have to make my aversion to YA a little more specific in future.) The ‘Librarians’ of Mount Char, art by SharksDen Yet Scott Hawkins leaves room for imagination in his masterpiece, where Bardugo and Reynolds stick to the straight and narrow. Of the twelve “librarians” only ten are ever described, and of those five or six are actually involved in the plot. There are obscure references to all kinds of fiction and mythology on top of simple inventions. The “Last Monstruwaken” dwelling in the “black pyramid at the end of time”, Barry O’Shea, Q-33 North, the ages of the world… These are peripheral details that you have to work to understand, and which for me make Hawkins’ setting uniquely vibrant and fascinating. Granted, these exact qualities seem to be the focus of many critiques of the novel by readers who want more comprehensible structure. Everyone has different tastes, but I do wish more people could experience the bizarre beauty of this novel. At the Close I suppose the moral here is that tastes may differ, and I can’t help but crave more vast and alluring speculative fiction worlds. I also can’t help but examine this argument in the context of how much I’ve recently enjoyed completely non-speculative fiction novels like The Heart’s Invisible Furies, Demon Copperhead and Sharp Objects. These books come as close as possible to an objectively understandable world (ours), but manage to hit some of the same fascinating notes for me through sheer tension, emotion and exploration of the human condition. It is difficult to imagine a speculative fiction novel which surpasses the incredible scope of novels like House of Suns, Mount Char, The Magicians or His Dark Materials – though I do have a (likely incomprehensible) story idea in mind. On the other hand, it is eminently possible to imagine speculative fiction which better incorporates the human element. This has always been a blind spot for me (I blame aspects of my neurodivergence but it could simply be some moral failing), but I now truly believe the future of the genre must incorporate more humanity alongside the social issues and incomprehensible magical nonsense. As long as I can still get unfathomably excited over that incomprehensible magical nonsense. -- How do you feel about structure vs. imagination when it comes to worldbuilding? Are there any novels (or other media) that come to mind? Thanks for reading!

[Wrote this as part of a school project, but felt it was worth posting here. Enjoy!] --- Province-wide Ad to be broadcast on September 9th, 2031 Darwin-Moses K-12 Education Center - Welcome to Your Child’s Future Featuring the Class of 2043 Welcome to the Darwin-Moses Super-Education Center. We have the highest success rate for Publicly-Traded-Education Graduates in the Province of Ontario-by-Walmart™. [Stirring corpo-patriotic music plays] Our namesakes, Charles Darwin and Robert Moses, inspired our core values: we believe in the guiding hand of natural selection, and that the ends always justify the means. It is my honour to introduce you to our pride and joy, the Class of 2043. These 21 students have consistently impressed and inspired us as they blazed through our world-leading Kindergarten curriculum. Let’s meet some of these prospects! [Sports Announcer introduces each name] Michael CXVI. Current Predicted Value: $25 billion. Undoubtedly the star of the class, Michael CXVI is the one hundred sixteenth clone of trillionaire Michael Bogsirk. A lovable social butterfly, Michael CXVI also performs admirably in Hopscotch, Jump Rope and Junior Investment Opportunities. Candice. Current Predicted Value: $1.2 million. Sometimes natural selection surprises you! Despite coming from a low income home, Candice is already studying at a fourth grade level while also having fun with peers such as June, Liam and Riley. She’s certainly one to watch: will she burn out, or rise above? Trk’cx. Current predicted value: 8¢. Six limbs and a tough-as-nails exoskeleton have seen Trk’cx overcome many challenges posed by having no comprehension of human language. Its shell can be scraped for a lovely shade of paint, making it a favourite partner for arts and crafts activities. [Excited and warm voice] We love diversity here at Darwin-Moses! In addition to Trk’cx, we have Prospects like Jordan, Tani and Malik who we encourage to play and work together at every opportunity! Shawn. Current Predicted Value: $55,000. Shawn is a creative and diligent worker, often there to comfort other students when they’re down. He’s often playing games of his own invention with Mallory, Pierre, Tani and O#70832. Perhaps he’ll grow into some decent attributes yet! [Sombre but energetic electronic music plays] Of course, selection also took its toll. The Class fondly remembers Stephanie, whose family’s public housing was Rapidly Demolished™ last New Year’s Eve. Less fondly remembered is Evan, whose unsociable nature made him an easy choice for the Class to leave behind as a friendly donation to the Zoo in May. Finally, Priscilla, who is not remembered - thanks to the efforts of our ever-vigilant Darwin Moses Security team. Invest in this Class today. Remember to enrol your own Prospects as soon as possible - their future is in your hands. If Darwin-Moses is Cyberpunk - AI Generated Province-wide Ad to be broadcast on October 2nd, 2037 Darwin-Moses K-12 Education Center - Perfect School*, Perfect Life Featuring the Class of 2043 * Term used for marketing purposes only. Darwin Moses K-12 makes no legal claim to be a ‘school’. It’s that time of year: let’s once again check in with the star-studded Class of 2043! Upon seeing other Classes, it really is remarkable what a good batch we have here. [Announcer] Pierre! CPV: $250 million. Oh, to be the child of parents as sublime and infamous as Pierre’s - what a dream! He has taken the initiative to pay his friends Shawn and Tani to complete all work on his behalf, and spends most of his time drinking in the teacher’s lounge alongside June and O#70832. It brings a tear to one’s eye, to see a future so bright. Michael CXVI. CPV: $25 billion. Of course, the original Michael Bogsirk’s whereabouts and intentions for the future remain completely unknown to us here at Darwin-Moses K-12 (PLEASE STOP CALLING US ABOUT IT). Michael CXVI remains an absolute treasure of a student, excelling at every task and activity put before him. Alchemy class even saw him transforming his gold bars into pure diamond! It really goes to show the difference that character and materials can make, since the same class saw Dana permanently transformed into a hamster - sweetly adopted as a Class pet - and Liam banished to an infernal realm. Michael CXVI even bought lunch for the whole Class one day, truly embodying the Darwin-Moses leadership mindset. Candice, PhD. CPV: $16 million. The unexpected jewel in the Class of 2043’s crown continues to shine bright while still keeping friendly with her peers. Darwin-Moses remains firm in requiring her to complete the mandatory curriculum to help her develop into a proper citizen of the future. So far she has been able to pay for her multiple post-secondary degrees off the back of public scholarships, awards and her software development career - conducted on rented Darwin-Moses computers! We are so proud of this product of the Darwin-Moses process! Allison. CPV: $400,000. Looks like we have a Mean Girl, folks! On a recent trip to Ontario-by-Walmart™ Parliament, Allison and her friend Mallory managed to bully two insecure MPPs out of their seats. Allison became bored and decided to return to school at the end of the day, while Mallory was officially appointed MPP of Perth-Wellington. In a recent interview over Snapchat with Allison and O#70832, Mallory declared her bid for the spot of Premier: “🤣✔️.” That’s the Darwin-Moses process in action, folks! [Techno Memorial Music] It is with heavy hearts that we must announce the passing of Malik, whose athletic acumen was unrivalled across the population of the Education Center. Malik has announced an intention to transition to Jennifer, whose continued matriculation at Darwin-Moses would be far too confusing for staff or peers to deal with. She is hereby excommunicated. [List of previous losses scrolls quickly by] Priscilla, Stephanie, Evan, Dalton, Jordan, Linda, Liam, Dana [cherished pet], Trk’cx [return after pupation!!] Invest and Enrol! Your child’s future depends on our continued independence from Amazon Schools™. Charles Darwin and Robert Moses - Generated by hotpot.ai Province-wide Ad to be broadcast on October 17th, 2042 Bogsirk-Darwin-Moses K-12 Education Center - The Cream of the Crop - Preorder Today! Featuring the Class of 2043 For the final year, it is our honour to bring you a look at the Class of 2043! These Prospects have proven themselves time after time. Their names have been chanted nationwide. Let’s see the ways they have been thriving! [Announcer] Michael CXVI. CPV: $26 trillion. Having shares in the company that now owns most of the planet really sets Michael CXVI apart. Captain of every sports team and currently the star of 37 “Junior Bachelor” spin-offs, Michael CXVI embodies the Bogsirk-Darwin-Moses spirit to its utmost! Allison. CPV: $46 million. Allison’s joint dance performance with Trk’cx and Shawn at the talent show this year brought the entire population to devastated tears. Allison’s operatic vocals and fluid movements were truly a beautiful thematic balance to the sight of our favourite 9ft. tall insectoid prospect devouring Shawn’s innards on stage. The duo’s upcoming world tour will donate all proceeds to Shawn’s struggling family. Candice, PhD. BOUNTY: $425 BILLION. Inform the appropriate authorities if you have any information on the whereabouts or activities of this terrorist. Her radical views on the meaning of ‘equality’ in no way reflect the teachings of Bogsirk-Darwin-Moses. O#70832. CPV: $50 million. It takes real dedication to make it this far in our illustrious institute’s curriculum. June, Brandon and ♠️ have all succumbed to the sheer workload of the final years. It is therefore truly heartening to see the effort the class has made on behalf of O#70832, which we recently learned is not in fact sentient, but is in actuality an incredibly valuable barrel of crude oil. Pierre. CPV: $42069. Ha, what a guy! [Techno Memorial Music] Guo never returned from the Class trip to the International Musk Station this past summer. Allison says he signed up for a trip to Mars, while the rest of the class say she pushed him out the airlock. Safe travels either way, Guo! Tani breached her Bogsirk-Darwin-Moses contract and has been placed in stasis. See her attempt to graduate with the Class of 2093! [List of previous losses scrolls quickly by] Priscilla, Stephanie, Evan, Dalton, Jordan, Linda, Liam, Dana [cherished pet], Malik, Shawn, June, Brandon, ♠️, Guo, Tani Dystopian Eye by Jules B. Epilogue “Hey Li, come check this out. Graduation.” “Woah.” The temperature rises as he crackles into the room. “That’s a fucking trip, Riley.” We watch in thoughtful silence as Allison rolls O#70832 onto the stage and collects the two diplomas. Liam flickers in my peripheral, and I stamp out a few sparks which threaten to catch on the carpet. “Think she’s still going to sell it?” A high-pitched squeak answers me. “Of course she will. She would have sold or eaten me too if Mike hadn’t stopped her.” I turn to see Dana, closer to human again but with further recovery still ahead of her. “Speak of the devil,” she tweaks her whiskers toward the screen. Though Grace receives her diploma between Allison and Mike, she gets all of two frames before the camera is focusing in on the damn clone. The media has no time or interest in what they consider average, but I smile to see her all the same. I understood why she wanted to finish it out before joining us here. “Can’t wait until the world finally sees what a doofus he is,” says Jennifer from the couch. We’re all fourteen years done with the exorbitant attention placed on the simple, mute pretty boy. “There’s that smile,” Jennifer grins warmly as we watch Mike sheepishly accept his diploma. Priscilla’s excitement alerts us that our friends have returned. I start to turn, but Liam nods back to the screen intently. “Oh shit,” I mutter, “they’re actually going through with it.” The camera shudders as Trk’cx batters its way into the auditorium, sending debris and acid across the unoccupied seats. “Hard to tell, but it might be taller than the room at this point,” says Liam. A minute of chaos later, the camera feed dies. We turn as one to see Evan lope into the room, followed by our fearless leader and her new prize. Candice has an undercut, septum and eyebrow piercings, and violent-looking tattoos across the dark skin of her arms and neck. Carving Liam out of Hell took a year of her life. Grabbing Pierre out of Maximum Security? Fifteen minutes with traffic. “What’s next, boss?” I ask. Candice pats me on the back. “We make a change.” --- As part of this assignment, I was interviewed by one of my groupmates about my writing process and inspirations. Take a look: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1oP8PT2VpFgbfy-LUU8osGbKcuJ0XFKgu/view?usp=drive_link

How we read is a topic that tends to come up in conversations that I have as much as – if not more than ideas related to the content of books. After all, there are now three major avenues to read most novels, and it can be interesting to consider how those formats change individual experiences of the work. I have experience reading in all three formats – audio, physical and electronic – but mostly tend towards the former two. As such I won’t touch much on e-books and similar formats today, though I’ve heard great things about dedicated e-reader devices. Today I’ll give my thoughts on the pros and cons of both audio and physical book formats, with some examples from the novels and authors I’ve consumed. A Focused Reading The feel and smell of opening a physical book can be hard to beat. A cozy spot and an enthralling novel have seen me pass hours, days and weeks away - especially when sick or otherwise stuck at home, but even on a random Saturday if the book is gripping enough. If one were to believe BookTok, Bookstagram, Tumblr and the cute reader aesthetics that have permeated social media, this is how a lot of very cool people spend nearly every waking moment! But that's all varying degrees of tangential. Disconnection Jasnah Kholin, transcendent scholar and queen - by Puradise When it comes down to it, physical books demand focus and attention. We need to be able to put down our phones, turn off the TV and pause our conversations if we want to meaningfully engage with them. That in itself is an increasingly difficult leap to take, requiring an intentional detachment from the buzzing and excited world around us. Between 2014 and 2020, that act of disconnection was nearly insurmountable for me. The exceptions were a few novels for university - which I still struggled through, despite falling in love with some of them (Ancillary Justice, Wildfell, Neuromancer) later - and A Song of Ice and Fire, which offered me a world and community to lose myself in. It took three significant changes in 2020 to transform me into the person before you, who reads dozens of physical books per year. Obviously, COVID-19. Then The Dresden Files, which combines wild urban fantasy with the pace and tension of great thrillers (I've discussed before the idea of finding smoother entry points into reading if you're struggling). Finally, being diagnosed and medicated for my ADHD - who'd have thought? Reading - especially close and/or critical reading - is an active task: it aligns closer with the experience of playing a video game or solving a puzzle than that of watching a movie or scrolling through social media. That can make it intimidating, consciously or not, when we are facing that necessary disconnection to pick up and engage with a book. Immersion Quote from (and fan art of) Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves by Aaafsew Fortunately, the difficulty of engaging with physical books is balanced by the incredibly rewarding experience of fully inhabiting the world and characters of a novel. It is a transcendent feeling to step away from The Secret History with the characters' anxious paranoia clinging to me; likewise to viscerally hate Dolores Umbridge and Adora Crellin years and months after reading The Order of the Phoenix and Sharp Objects respectively. A final note is that some books are simply designed around the physical format. House of Leaves is a work of genius for how it plays with its structure and metafictional narratives. I'd be curious whether a Braille version is viable, but any other adaptation is laughable for how much of the experience would be lost. I'll also mention Moby Dick here; I'd love to delve into the topic of structure-as-narrative in the future, but suffice to say that listening to Herman Melville's 1851 novel felt as frustrating as I imagine a House of Leaves audiobook would. A hidden extra positive of the physical: it makes skipping around so much more practical. Listen Up! Worlds delivered to your ears - generated by AI I first entered the world of audiobooks in that 2014-2020 period when physical novels felt like they were beyond my abilities. They got me through long early morning shifts stocking shelves, TTC rides to and from school, and more recently have incentivized me to embrace and enjoy long walks. You might spot a pattern there, and the big difference between audio and physical in my experience: audiobooks simply don't require the same level of attention and focus. For me, they are a perfect way to bring entertainment to otherwise menial activities. Quality and taste still matter, of course. Outland, Fourth Wing and parts of Moby Dick have made my walks and TTC trips feel exponentially longer; whereas Brandon Sanderson and Robin Hobb's fantasy novels have transformed some otherwise miserable experiences into merely "what I was doing when I read about X." Thanks for the nightmares, AI! For me, this flexibility comes at the price of consistent engagement. (Granted I do have minor auditory processing issues that may be a factor here, but generally audiobook narrators are crisply understandable.) I think you can reach a point of active listening to a book, but it is by no means the default. It would take an incredible level of focus to appreciate every nuance of an audiobook. My mind easily wanders; whether thinking about a part of the book, in response to something in the world around me or just remembering something out of the blue, sentences and paragraphs of audiobooks can slip past me effortlessly. A physical book would often see me pause in these moments, or at least notice I haven't been processing what I'm reading and return to where I was before the interruption. You can do that on audio, but it can be frustratingly fiddly. Technically, there are stories (often podcasts repackaged as audiobooks) that have been built from the ground up for the audio format just as House of Leaves was made for physical. I've yet to personally listen to one that couldn't be turned into prose, though. My cynical view after listening to Impact Winter is that production value is often attempting to cover for half-baked writing. But I'd be interested to hear of well-executed examples! A stray thought which inspired the title: audiobooks, podcasts and the like probably feel natural to us because of the prevalence of oral storytelling in the lives of our ancestors and their cultures. In away, physical books may be the tangent from what is traditional. --- The moral? Books are great, go and read one! (After devouring more of my excellent posts, of course :P ). If you've yet to try audiobooks and have been struggling to pick up your physical ones lately, give them a shot! Same goes for the other way around - it's all just reading in the end ^^ Any observations you have on this topic? Have plans for the eclipse? (Speaking of, Black Sun is a great book about a crow god and a sun god, check it out!) Thanks for reading. Until next week, much love <3

Introducing a new category of post, where I'll discuss a number of books through a specific lens. In this case, their gay characters and relationships! As an astonishing first for my blog, the spark of this post was ignited by a non-speculative fiction book. On a friend’s fervent recommendation, this week I opened and fell in love with John Boyne’s 2017 The Heart’s Invisible Furies. This darkly funny and deeply emotional novel follows the life and trials of a gay man growing up in strictly Catholic Ireland from the 1950s onward. This story evokes many elements of Tomasz Jedrowski’s 2020 Swimming in the Dark for me – another great recommendation from a friend – and I was inspired to explore and discuss the gay characters and relationships in these books and in speculative fiction novels I love. Two people and a reasonable amount of fingers - both nearly impossible for the AI Speculative fiction is a medium which allows authors to explore important topics in novel ways, changing context and the lens of perception in order to gain better insight on real world issues. This is part of the reason that so many gay characters and relationships in fiction are surrounded by traumatic experiences. Violence and shame has surrounded the topic for centuries, and still pervades the world we live in today. Writing fiction allows many authors to give voice to real, painful experiences – reminding us of the horrors of the past as well as attempting to understand the perspectives held by antagonistic figures and cultures. On the other hand, a few stories portray these characters and relationships in worlds that have moved beyond stigma. Everina Maxwell's Winter's Orbit and Ocean's Echo each feature complex and dynamic romantic relationships between men as the backbone of political sci-fi thrillers. Prince Kiem and Count Jainan from Winter's Orbit - art by Venessa Kelley Maxwell effortlessly demonstrates that queer relationships can fit into any story without needing to be justified or intrinsically tied to shame or trauma. The same is true for Alexandra Rowland's wonderful A Conspiracy of Truths and A Choir of Lies, where the gay storyteller Ylfing is completely accepted by almost everyone – although Rowland does mention that parts of that world would not accept him. A.K. Larkwood's The Unspoken Name and The Thousand Eyes are long overdue for discussion around here – at the very least, they'll get another mention if/when I do a similar post for lesbian characters and relationships. The novels are centered on Csorwe's journey, but also flesh out a small cast of characters around her. Belthandros Sethennai is a mysterious and powerful figure bent on reclaiming his rightful place as ruler of his elven culture. Talasseres Charossa is a young relative of Belthandros' rival and usurper. (Larkwood tends to avoid stereotyping her fantasy races, but both of these men are perfect models of elven haughtiness). Belthandros Sethennai (left) and Talasseres Charossa (right), by Ryan and Laya Rose I don't want to spoil the many complex twists and turns of Larkwood's books here; I'll just say that Belthandros and Talasseres end up in a casual relationship that – of course – makes everything that happens more complicated, tense and emotional. This is a case where the gay relationship itself is perfectly accepted but the individual circumstances make it questionable. Both men are used to exerting or gaining power through intimacy, but one has been doing so for far longer than the other and things simply can't end well. N.K. Jemisin's The City We Became and The World We Make feature a wonderful gay Black teen avatar of New York City figuring things out and occasionally sleeping with his mentor, the older male São Paulo. These books are focused on what it means to be a city and community when comprised of thousands of diverse and sometimes conflicting elements, and sexuality is one of many significant parts of Jemisin's explorations. I’ve touched on Ya Hoon Lee’s mind-bending sci-fi epic Machineries of Empire before, and once again I’ll just be on the fringes of all the trilogy has to offer. The story revolves around legendary general Shuos Jedao, centuries after his disgraceful betrayal of all he supposedly stood for. Mikodez by Maki (Left), Jedao by Liuet (Middle) and Kujen by Lucia Dzediti (Right) Being gay is accepted in the Hexarchate – though the society's understanding of gender has moved beyond use of such terms – but that doesn't save Jedao from the abuses of power. One of the most powerful women in their society wants and takes him not long after his male academy crush dies, by threatening everything Jedao has worked so hard for. Yoon Ha Lee also has two sublime gay villains in the mix: Shuos Mikodez and Nirai Kujen. As a trans gay author with an incredible imagination, I think Lee has every right to explore the perversities these strange and powerful characters get up to. But as with every book I've discussed so far, their sexuality takes nothing away from the forces and ideas they represent as villains. Lara Elena Donnelly's Amberlough is a beautiful and harrowing look at a utopian 1920s-esque society losing it all. As foreign politics creep in, previously unquestioned gay and trans characters are forced into hiding. It hits all the harder for how brutally it captures the feeling of world events since the early Trump years when it was published. (As a first in this post I have yet to finish the series, but can't wait to keep crying with Armistice and Amnesty.) A final couple mentions: Emory Anden from Fonda Lee's Green Bone Saga has a deeply emotional journey Simon in Chloe Benjamin's The Immortalists is similarly reflective of real history and experiences as the characters and stories of Heart's Invisible Furies and Swimming in the Dark Donna Tartt's The Secret History and Lev Grossman's The Magicians (which I discussed last week) feature similar gay characters – R.F. Kuang's Babel is slightly more distinct but could easily be grouped here too --- I hope you consider giving at least one of these books a try! Let me know how you feel about this broader type of post, as compared to the more focused ones. Are there any gay characters/relationships you adore that I should read? Until next time~

It actually has nothing to do with Zendaya’s interview behaviour [No particular spoilers for Dune: Part 2 - instead focusing on broader ideas and moments of the series] The buzz around the new Dune film is surreal for me; I grew up reading these strange, complex novels about water scarcity and desert mice. I knew about shield/lasgun interactions and the reason for Thufir Hawat’s blue lips long before I understood many  basic facts of our own world. I can only hope that the films help convert a few new fans of the incredible novels I’ve known and loved forever. Not quite as transcendent a depiction of The Golden Path as I hoped, AI The Golden Path Paul Atreides begins to receive impressions of a singularly horrifying yet hopeful future from the moment he first experiences prescient visions, immersed in the spice of Arrakis. He sees himself becoming a reviled and hated dictator of the trillions of people who inhabit his known universe, until the moment of his death heralds a great change. Paul can’t bring himself to enact those visions, and instead lives with the guilt of having doomed a far future humanity. But his son has been having the same visions, from a younger age and able to discuss them with an insightful twin sister. Together, Leto II and Ghanima Atreides decide to forge the future that Paul shied away from. They choose to walk the Golden Path. In brief: Leto II becomes part-sandworm in order to withstand the effects of time and gain an even more intimate control of the spice, then proceeds to rule his father’s empire with an iron fist for 3,500 years. Imagine if the strictest Covid-19 lockdown measures had been in place since people began writing in Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia. Then multiply it across the thousands of worlds which Leto oversees. Why? To psychically scar the human race so deeply that they will never again allow themselves to be contained and controlled in such fashion. Indeed, Leto II’s death prompts the Scattering: humanity expanding far and wide into the universe with very little looking back. [They are aided by Leto II’s continuation of the Bene Gesserit breeding program, which produced Atreides descendants invisible to the prescience he and Paul possessed. Otherwise, some other prophet could eventually see the path to reuniting all humanity]. The God-Emperor Leto II by Devon Cady-Lee A Flawed Philosophy The Golden Path, Scattering, and resulting conflicts are hard science fiction at its very best - though you have to wade through a lot of odd sexual themes in the latter three Dune novels to enjoy them. The fact that the Golden Path requires a long period of frustration before an urgent and passionate release… I’m sure that’s nothing. Author Frank Herbert explores the same philosophy throughout the series: Humanity already bears deep scars from the (presumably long and horrible) rule of ‘thinking machines’ over ten thousand years ago, and have never again created so much as a calculator. The Bene Gesserit’s breeding program has taken millennia of work for nothing, right up until they accidentally create Paul as the Kwisatz Haderach. The Bene Gesserit’s test of humanity and gom jabbar require a period of brutal pain before a subject can pass, alive and unscathed. Narratively, Arrakis is seen as a harsh desert planet with too little water - right up until there is finally enough, and we see the planet terraformed between books. A certain character lives a thousand lives, and eventually develops unprecedented abilities (might partially be reaching into Brian Herbert’s books). The idea is that abject and extended trauma will cause a population to avoid repeating the same situation at all costs. And, as sensible as that might sound, it’s bullshit. At least as far as our species and world are concerned. Do I even need to explain this one? The Second World War and all of its horrors are not even eighty years past and fascism is once again rearing its disgusting head. Every right that has been gained since then is apparently in jeopardy as well, despite the thousands of years many groups had previously suffered. But I also think of cults and brainwashing: it is devastatingly easy for a person or population to forget the life they previously had when presented with a visceral and demanding new reality, and exponentially so over the course of generations. It’s true that the people released from Leto II’s 3,500-year subjugation will not be the same as those who began it, but I don’t believe for a second they will be any better for it. Leto II used female-only ‘Fish Speakers’ to enforce his iron rule - art by Alex Boca Maybe if the Fish Speakers are constantly reminding people of their ancestors’ freedom, the space travel they took for granted and the spice that prolonged their lives. Letting the people repeat stories of how things once were, and subtly encouraging more and more cunning forms of rebellion in the population. Then I can believe the Scattering. Stories are Identity What Frank Herbert is taking for granted, and what so much of our own world has completely forgotten, is that our stories define us. Dune is about memory and learning from our mistakes, just as much as it is about seizing an opportunity in the moment. We must remember the mistakes and hurts of the past if we are to avoid repeating them in the future. The evil of thinking machines is enshrined everywhere in the world of Dune, while essential rights like abortion access and gay marriage have already lost so much of their context in our own world. The Fremen’s hope for a better world, the Bene Gesserit’s search for an omnipotent puppet and Leto II’s vision of unshackled humanity are projects which require not just individual lifetimes, but thousands of individual lifetimes to achieve. Every incredible act that is possible in Dune is only possible because of the passing on of stories and dreams from generation to generation. Meanwhile our education systems are under attack, our world and history constantly fractured by people trying to make a buck without a thought for anyone, anything, or any time. Shai-Hulud help us.