Ann Leckie's novel examines divided natures, how we change & grow Essential Theme Who are you? Does your answer change depending on the day? On your mood? Has your DNA shaped you into your current form, or have you grown in response to the world around you? Ann Leckie places a lot of importance on identity in her novels. Her extended Imperial Radch books, Translation State and Provenance , place sharp focus on alien ideas and experiences of identity and how those reflect our own. The Raven Tower , her lone fantasy novel, explores the power of an overlooked god knowing and staying true to their identity as The Strength and Patience of the Hill. I've previously written about Ancillary Justice & its universe a few times: As a Book that Redefined Speculative Fiction In the context of Today's AI With regard to its use of Neopronouns Without further ado, let's dive into the complex identities of Breq and Anaander Mianaai. Fractured Identity, by Justin & Alexis Hernandez Justice of Toren // One Esk // Breq Ancillary Justice 's protagonist begins life as the AI mind of a military troop carrier, the Justice of Toren  ( Justice being the standard classification for troop carriers, Toren being a minor deity in the sprawling Radchaai pantheon). Like many older Radchaai ships, Justice of Toren  carries a complement of human officers who each oversee groups ('decades') of 'ancillaries': human bodies from conquered planets, given implants which allow Justice of Toren complete and direct control over them. However, it isn't quite as simple as the unified ship's mind simultaneous controlling hundreds or thousands of limbs. When on deployment in a star system, some decades of officers & ancillaries will often be sent planet-side, while others remain aboard the ship. Even the few seconds of delay for signals to travel between ship and planet would be disruptive to a cohesive mind, let alone emergency situations where a greater distance would leave planet-side ancillaries totally non-functional. Leckie's narrative-defining solution is to have Justice of Toren 's mind effectively split in these situations; still communicating as much as possible, but with each ancillary decade allowed the ability to function (and grow) independent of the whole. This is how Justice of Toren One Esk (the first 'Esk' decade of ancillaries aboard) was born. Justice of Toren / Breq from Ancillary Justice , by quarksparrow We learn that One Esk has frequently been deployed for planetary annexations, spending more time interacting with the world beyond the Radch's military and developing an interest in local music totally absent from the rest of Justice of Toren . While all Radchaai ships are programmed to love their commanding officers, we also see One Esk develop a surprisingly strong attachment to Lieutenant Awn and widening the gap between its identity and that of the whole. When disaster strikes in the form of the even-more-fractured Lord of the Radch Anaander Mianaai and Justice of Toren is utterly destroyed, One Esk is able to save a single one of its segments: One Esk Nineteen, later called Breq. Here's a fascinating passage where she attempts to parse her identity: Nearly twenty years later “I” would be a single body, a single brain. That division, I– Justice of Toren and I–One Esk, was not, I have come to think, a sudden split, not an instant before which “I” was one and after which “I” was “we.” It was something that had always been possible, always potential. Guarded against. But how did it go from potential to real, incontrovertible, irrevocable? On one level the answer is simple—it happened when all of Justice of Toren but me was destroyed. But when I look closer I seem to see cracks everywhere. Did the singing contribute, the thing that made One Esk different from all other units on the ship, indeed in the fleets? Perhaps. Or is anyone’s identity a matter of fragments held together by convenient or useful narrative, that in ordinary circumstances never reveals itself as a fiction? Or is it really a fiction? I don’t know the answer. But I do know that, though I can see hints of the potential split going back a thousand years or more, that’s only hindsight. The first I noticed even the bare possibility that I– Justice of Toren might not also be I–One Esk, was that moment that Justice of Toren edited One Esk’s memory of the slaughter in the temple of Ikkt. The moment I—“I”—was surprised by it. It makes the history hard to convey. Because still, “I” was me, unitary, one thing, and yet I acted against myself, contrary to my interests and desires, sometimes secretly, deceiving myself as to what I knew and did. And it’s difficult for me even now to know who performed what actions, or knew which information. Because I was Justice of Toren . Even when I wasn’t. Even if I’m not anymore. - Ann Leckie , Ancillary Justice Haven't we all felt surprised or even betrayed by ourselves at one point or another, at the suggestion that our idea of who we are could be inaccurate, malleable, vulnerable? Breq must question her entire history to sort out what formed her, divided her from herself; and she also has external, abusive influence to worry about. And she's not alone. Not by a long shot. Anaander(s) Mianaai, by Meredith Alden Lewis Anaander Mianaai The Imperial Radch is a vast expanse of human-controlled space, made possible by the guiding hand and under the watchful eye of three thousand year-old Anaander Mianaai. Unlike the long-lived AIs she commands, Anaander has achieved her effective immortality through cloning herself thousands, if not millions, of times. Similarities begin to emerge, however, once you take into account that Anaander faces the same difficulty of distance in maintaining her supposedly unified consciousness across her many bodies throughout the Radch. Far-flung versions of herself might inadvertently go days or weeks without receiving updates from the rest, potentially allowing them to evolve as individuals just like Justice of Toren One Esk did. The books suggest a single incident ultimately caused the culture-spanning schism we see: Anaander's decision to completely exterminate the defiant Garseddai people and their planet. Half of Anaander reacted in horror and regret at this decision, while the other half doubled down on their commitment to militarism and tyranny. From this moment forward, the Lord of the Radch worked against herself in secret: violently, politically, and in many more fields besides. Anaander Mianaai, by Lauren Saint Onge Anaander's self-conflict is tough to follow; I really only got a grasp on it with my recent third reading of the novel. Yet I think it speaks volumes to the societal damage that occur under unstable autocrats who fully believe they're in the right . One side of Anaander, bent on reforming the Radch by eliminating the creation of ancillaries and halting its millennia-long conquest and expansion, seems genuinely good in a lot of ways. Breq will have none of it though, treating any and all of the Lord of the Radch with varying levels of grave suspicion and malice. After all, both Anaanders attempted to subvert Justice of Toren and were partially responsible for its destruction. That much power probably shouldn't be in anyone's hands. Takeaways There are further complications I could get into: the AIs relationship with free will, the hint of a third Anaander faction, the Lord's attempt to overwrite Lieutenant Tisarwat's mind and personality with her own. One of the most interesting is the scenes we get of ancillaries being newly connected to Justice of Toren , clearly implying that some of the body's identity remains and must be coaxed into merging with or playing host to the AI. Along with Tisarwat's journey and Breq's growth after her ship's destruction, Leckie seems to be suggesting an important biological component of identity: the mind must work through the brain it's in, and is potentially shaped in turn . This is an idea I've looked a bit at in regards to transhumanism , and would love to focus on more in a future piece (including this incredible short story by Ken Liu ). Even excluding conditions like Bipolar disorder, I think we're all a lot more varied in our identities than we tend to believe. The slightest change in our brain chemistry can see us undergo vast emotional swings, energize us or knock us flat. Never mind external stimuli, which can bring back our past in an instant (I'm reminded of this bit of Lily and her friend reverting from HIMYM). Like Leckie says, perhaps identity is just a convenient narrative, fictional or otherwise. But as always, it's important to be mindful about that narrative; what story we're living and showing the world. Thanks for reading and until next time <3

The joys of rapid plot development and rewarding attentive viewers Spoiler Alert! Past the second heading, I'll be discussing full spoilers for both Severance Season 2 (up to Episode 4: "Woe's Hollow"). If you're interested, I've previously written about the cosmic horror themes of Severance Season 1 and how they relate to corporate dehumanization. I've also written on what makes great narratives a few times: What Makes a Good Read? Frustrated by a Book? Put it Down (For Now) Plot, Perspective and World: What Makes Great Speculative Fiction? But without further ado, let's get back to Lumon! Always a Step Ahead At the end of my previous post on Severance , I said I'd likely wait until the end of the season to return – unless something profound drew me back before then. And golly, here we are. The second season of Severance (and in particular Adam Scott ) hit the ground running. Each of the four episodes we've seen so far have ended with substantial revelations or plot developments, whether blatant or incredibly subtle: That MDR's "Cold Harbour" project is related to (likely recovering) Gemma's mind Hint that Helena has replaced Helly R. on the severed floor (no elevator beep for her) Mark begins reintegration (Permanent?) death of Irving's innie, recovery of Helly R. And that's aside from the many, many other details and developments that made up these episodes (Burt, Mammalians Nurturable, Cobel, anagrams and field trips)! It's hard to imagine what the status quo will look like after another six episodes yet to come. Given the first season's relatively contemplative pace and that the show's creator has a vision for either three or six(!) seasons , I think it would be entirely fair to imagine these four developments (or maybe even just the latter three) representing the climax of season two. It feels audacious to move through them so rapidly instead, and I love it. "Kier Pardons His Betrayers", by Danny Aviles The argument about Helena/Helly's identity had been ongoing online since the first episode of the season, and by now I'm well-used to this type of theorizing slowly tipping toward one side or the other until a reveal in either the last or second-to-last episode of a season (Bernard and later the Man in Black from Westworld certainly come to mind). Yet in this case, I genuinely don't think many viewers will have made the connection about Helena replacing Helly before Irving solves it for them – and I think it's the perfect outcome! The die-hard fans are quickly validated, the casual fans are perhaps encouraged to look up from their phones during future episodes and show's characters come off as exceedingly clever. A lightning-fast pace also helps to keep the characters on their toes; they made a lot of breakthroughs at the end of the first season, and it's difficult to imagine the show maintaining its eerie atmosphere if they had been allowed to continue as expected. But of course, the best part of rapidly getting all of these revelations and developments is the promise that there are many more to come. Never in a million years would I have guessed a witch jumpscare at an office desk was in the cards for this season, but that happened last week! (And somehow was barely discussed online, given how much else went down – and how great Milchik's outfit was.) Screencap from Severance  Season Two, Episode Four Where do we go from here? To me, the most shocking revelation remains that at the end of episode one: an answer about the purpose of MDR's work. In a way, that felt like the biggest mystery of the series shared by both characters and viewers alike. Granted that there were plenty of theories online which saw something like this coming, but as with the Helly reveal it feels excitingly provocative of the show to give us this answer so soon. I still wonder if we're being lied to about the severed floor in general. I think the show has certainly taken inspiration and lessons from Westworld , and that show eventually made a big twist out of simulation: could events 'on the severed floor' be taking place on a Lumon hard drive? The most recent episode, with its odd transparent clones of the innies, certainly makes that feel like a possibility – and the show is always cagy about showing direct continuity via the elevator. Of course this theory is easy to write off because of Mark's bandage in Season One... but I wonder whether the body might produce pain for the outie based on the innie's perceived experiences. Could this be why Helena is able to shrug off Helly's bodily threats in the first season? Or who knows, maybe the outer world is just another Lumon experiment – we've yet to see beyond their towns and compounds, after all. I'd love to hear any theories you have on where the show might go from here! Deeply excited for the next episode tonight. Thanks for reading, until next time <3

In work by authors Yoon Ha Lee , Neon Yang and more Welcome Back This is a direct sequel to my previous post , so consider giving that a read if you haven't already. And without further ado, let's jump into the second broad category of non-binary characters in speculative fiction. The Machineries of Empire Trilogy by Yoon Ha Lee, covers by Chris Moore Thoughtful & Mysterious I could be wrong, but I think  the first non-binary character I read about was Shuos Zehun, from Yoon Ha Lee's The Machineries of Empire trilogy – previously featured here for my look at gay characters ! Lee is a brilliant author and a trans man himself, so it's no wonder his depictions of queer characters and their (even sci-fi) experiences are so memorable. Zehun would easily be the most cunning and ruthless character in your average series, but in this case serves as personal assistant to Shuos Mikodez, one of the true contenders for that title in the Hexarchate. Nevertheless, Zehun shines through by knowing damn near everything and using that information as effectively as possible, never being without their pet cats and displaying a daunting loyalty to their faction and ever-growing family. The Hexarchate is fairly progressive in its understanding of gender, despite its many, many failings in other areas. Zehun is fully accepted as an 'alt' in this society, even though another character, trans male Kel Brezan, still experiences some conflict about his gender. Body modification is readily available to handle dysphoria, and as a spy Zehun frequently changes their appearance the same way. I think of Zehun as a great example of preliminary inclusion, especially given that they were among the first I read about. They are an important character whose presence and influence is perhaps amplified by standing out as one of the few alt characters in the series, but also demonstrates that non-binary people can and do have families. They're also certainly more of a villain than a hero, which is often more interesting than a purely positive character. Phoenix Extravagant by Yoon Ha Lee, cover by Ronan Le Fur It's been a while since I read this one, but Lee also makes non-binary Jebi the protagonist of his 2020 novel Phoenix Extravagant . This is a great book, featuring both a magical robot dragon and a serious look at how colonialism consumes and destroys the cultures of places it attempts to 'civilize'. Jebi is a devoted artist with little attention for much beyond their current project. It's eerie (especially given recent weeks ) to see them so blind to the way their nation seems to be folding under the influence of its more conservative neighbour, and how they simply begin to assimilate once necessary; they're focused on their art, and are simply following the path of least resistance regarding the changing world around them. That eventually changes when they internalize that the colonists' magic and power requires the destruction of their culture's important art: literally grinding up priceless pieces to make the paint Jebi is using to help cement the colonists' hold over their nation. This was a deeply affective image for me, a great example of speculative fiction's ability to highlight real world issues. Online comments have made it very clear to me how some people feel about having a non-binary character front and center here, so extra kudos to Lee for (presumably) fighting to have this inclusion go through to print. It's five years later and there are still very few books with a human, non-binary protagonist like Jebi. Neon Yang's The Tensorate Series , cover art by Yuko Shimizu Author Neon Yang of The Tensorate Series is non-binary, and clearly brought thoughtfulness and their own experiences to the books. Children in this world are considered genderless until they formally choose to be either male or female in adulthood – somewhat reminiscent of Terra Ignota 's "Adult Competency Exam" where people embrace their adulthood and choose their direction in life. The series mostly follows Akeha and Mokoya, twin children of the autocratic Protector, from their early life and into adulthood. Where the twins were inseparable in childhood, their choices of gender (male for Akeha, female for Mokoya) serve as a deeply emotional divide between them – especially because the Protector is female and expects her direct descendants to follow in her footsteps. Gender and sexuality, and how they are seen by society, are deeply important parts of our world and it's fascinating to see how Yang develops a similar level of complexity despite beginning from a very different set of assumptions. This is made even more pronounced when a foreign adult using they/them pronouns joins the cast, seeming utterly alien to these characters despite their acceptance of children using the same pronouns. It's a great series of four novellas, collected in one medium-sized volume; I highly recommend it! Art by ILLUSTORYART And Others For the most part though, non-binary characters fill fairly small roles in larger tales. One that I'd nearly forgotten (having read it almost four years ago) is Gimlet from L.X. Beckett's Gamechanger , who serves as the protagonist's rival in online competitions. Beckett is non-binary as well and their world is a fascinating look at a future where humanity actually tries to get its shit together; I've mentioned it briefly in a few places. Nghi Vo's The Empress of Salt and Fortune technically follows the non-binary Cleric Chih, but those frame narrative scenes don't take up many pages of the already short novella. A quick look tells me that Chih continues into at least the second book, so hopefully they get a little more focus going forward! (Support SFF authors, but $21-27 for each of these novellas has put the sequels on my backburner so far.) There's also Niwai, priest of the Many-Legged who appears very briefly in C.L. Clark's The Unbroken . They (presumably) exist and are fairly mysterious; again I'm unsure as yet what role they play in the sequel, or whether their unique gender in this world is explored much further. And I'll close things out for now with Ilmus, friend and fellow scientist/prisoner to the protagonist in Adrian Tchaikovsky 's Alien Clay . They are a lovely inclusion in a book themed around the evergreen conflict of conformity vs. resistance; an empathetic fellow victim of the authoritarian regime and a perfect litmus test of the protagonist's growth from informant to architect of resistance. Another excellent read, whether you've read any other Tchaikovsky (such as Children of Time ) or not. Crossing my Fingers Perhaps breaking this post into two parts is a blessing in disguise, since I can only hope I'll soon be able to return with many more great non-binary characters in speculative fiction to share. I'll put out the call again for any other non-binary characters I missed, would love to hear about them!! Thanks for reading, until next time <3

We exist, both in literature and reality Who? People who are non-binary don't identify with being either male or female, often preferring 'they/them' or other alternatives to gendered pronouns like 'he/him' and 'she/her'. (Consider reading more here !) Recently, Trump put in motion efforts to utterly erase non-binary and transgender people from official recognition, including changing the State Department's Travel Page to read "LGB" (from LGBTQ) . Suffice to say that we still exist, and will continue to do so regardless of any fascist's opinions. Today I'll be putting a spotlight on speculative fiction characters who use they/them pronouns and how that shapes their lives in their respective worlds and cultures. I've previously written about characters who use neopronouns , many of whom fall under the non-binary umbrella. Characters using the pronouns 'it/its' are a little rarer, but I've previously discussed Murderbot if you're interested and will bring up Mosscap today in relation to Sibling Dex. Non-binary Pride Dragon, by Kaenith Exuberant & Heartfelt Depicting non-binary characters – let alone featuring them front and center as some of today's novels do – remains fairly rare in published books, even in the more progressive world of speculative fiction . I find that when they are included, they tend to fall into one of two categories: exuberant & heartfelt, or thoughtful & mysterious. (The same applies to movies and TV : just think of Asia Kate Dillon's John Wick and Billions characters.) It's not all that different from any other cliché, and if anything I think it demonstrates that authors are putting effort into having these characters stand out in their own ways. At the same time, it is always refreshing to see non-binary characters who don't quite fit into either category; so I'll mention a few of them toward the end of Part II. Tau-Indi Bosoka, by canmom It feels like forever since I discussed Seth Dickinson's Masquerade  novels, but thankfully the (presumably non-binary) author provides an incredible character to start off today with in the form of Prince-Ambassador Tau-Indi Bosoka. Tau is of the Oriati Mbo's people and their gender is called 'laman' in this world; as you'll see, many of these books offer an in-world version of non-binary. (I'll be continuing from my previous posts on these books, use the link above if you need a refresher!) Tau plays a fascinating role in the story, serving as point-of-view for our glimpses of the past in Tyrant  and helping Baru learn to think and reason on her own terms. Tau's gender is intrinsically accepted in and by the Mbo, but represents an immediate obstacle to their interactions with foreigners – particularly colonial Falcrest. Visiting the Mbo in their youth with the secret goal of determining the appropriate vector for conquering the continent and its people, Falcresti cryptarchs Itinerant/Farrier and Hesychast/Torrinde are surprisingly polite and respectful of Tau's gender, considering their objective necessitates utterly purging it. Where real world transphobes employ only hate and denial, these two approach Tau with curious rationality which could almost, but not quite, be mistaken for empathy; having absolutely no issue with Tau as a person but seeing their gender as a problem to be understood and eliminated. Tau-Indi Bosoka holding the threads of trim, by Arian Wells Tau themself could easily be mistaken for impulsive and naïve because of the trust and faith they place in 'trim', an Oriati belief which relates personal relationships, fate and more. In reality they easily stand toe-to-toe with the many intelligent characters of this series, even though their straightforward style is a direct contrast to the cryptarchs' obsession over planning and fail-safes. As might be obvious from how long I've spent on them, I consider Tau-Indi to be among the best and most important non-binary characters in speculative fiction, and I can't wait to see what role they play in book four of The Masquerade . Mosscap and Sibling Dex, by Randall Dameron I recently read A Psalm for the Wild-Built for my monthly book club, and immediately joined the many readers to fall in love with Becky Chambers world and characters. The novella follows Sibling Dex (they/them) and eventually Mosscap (it/its) on a journey of self-discovery and reconnection between the divided human and robot populations of their world. Neither Dex nor Mosscap has a gender, and that doesn't particularly affect them in this world; this is one of the cozypunk stories I discussed last time, and sometimes it's lovely just to see inclusion for inclusion's sake. The Sibling and the Stormfather, by Saša Radivojevic // Rushu, by Treefin That's a tower , I hear you say. Well, yes they are. Meet the Sibling, one of the three Bondsmith spren in The Stormlight Archive and Brandon Sanderson's first ever non-binary character! They're cool, but a little alien and impersonal... which is why it's fantastic that Sanderson recently confirmed another (beloved) character Rushu will also be using they/them pronouns moving forward. There isn't much societal conflict in this case – these books are already massive – but lovely to see such mainstream inclusion. To Be Continued... Turns out that even when writing about Tau-Indi, their presence takes up a lot of attention! Rather than rush through half a dozen more characters right now, I'll call this a wrap for today and bring you a Part II on Sunday. Are there any non-binary characters you've found especially compelling? I'd love to hear about them! Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Discussing comforting books by Becky Chambers, Katherine Addison, Martha Wells and more Needing an Escape Can anything compare to the feeling of curling up with a good book? Escaping to The Dresden Files ' Chicago and Broken Earth 's distant Stillness certainly played a huge role in helping me get through the early pandemic, and countless more stories have played similar roles since. But a lot of these books are pretty far from pleasant – a lot of speculative fiction, including Jemisin's Broken Earth , reflects on real-world issues by placing them front and center for the reader and protagonist(s) alike to confront. Another portion, including Butcher's Dresden Files , embraces the thriller/action tendency to make life as difficult as possible for their protagonists, hoping that the payoff will be that much sweeter as a result. Many do a little of both: Kaladin's 5-book mental health journey in The Stormlight Archive gives him no break from slavery, war and grief. Sometimes, after two weeks like we've just been through, these stories can begin to feel less like escape and more like exacerbation of our tension and fear . Enter the world of cozy- and hopepunk speculative fiction, which promises that things will get better . My Pick of the Month for February 2025, with quotes from The Goblin Emperor Cozypunk While I was reading up on this topic, Wikipedia directed me to the Danish/Norwegian word Hygge , which "describes a cozy, contented mood evoked by comfort and conviviality." It's quite a fitting idea, especially for 'cozypunk' stories that prioritize welcoming atmospheres, new friendships, companionship and general comfort. Perhaps the definitive cozypunk book is Becky Chambers' A Psalm for the Wild-Built , which follows tea monk Dex on their journey of self-discovery and explores their relationship with Mosscap, a member of an intelligent robot people who diverged from humanity centuries beforehand. It is a touching story set in a hopeful world, yet doesn't shy away from Dex's very human journey through fear, questioning and self-doubt on the way to greater self-realization. This duology was pitched as (and is labelled as) solarpunk , which explores hopeful futures focused on sustainable energy and interconnection with community and nature alike. If you're interested in a more in-depth, slightly grittier solarpunk tale consider checking out A Half-Built Garden by Ruthanna Emrys – I discussed it a bit here previously ! Textless Cover of Psalm for the Wild-Built , art by Feifei Ruan The other most prominent example of cozypunk, also by Becky Chambers, is The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet . This is a beautiful tale of a found family, the crew of the starship Wayfarer , growing as characters and as a community on their moseying way toward your typical science fiction plot. There is real plot and character conflict here, certainly more than in Psalm , but the overall atmosphere rarely strays beyond warm and comfortable. I'd highly, highly recommend either of these novels as smooth entry points into the science fiction genre! The Crew of the Wayfarer , by Elsa Varland Hopepunk To my mind cozypunk feels like the most straightforwardly hopeful and positive portion of hopepunk , defined and quickly rising to popularity around 2017-18. It's no mystery as to why; speculative fiction always serves as a reflection of our societal fears and Trump's first election in 2016 sent powerful waves through humanity's psyche (I'm greatly looking forward to the SFF stories written in January-February 2025, if we survive long enough to see them published). Hopepunk stories are about people working together to improve their environment, communities and lives; dealing with injustices where they're found and applying the brand of human decency to burn out complex corruption. These stories can be deeply cathartic in moments like today, when hope seems so distant and obscured. There's a broad range of stories I'd classify as hopepunk, with Psalm on the coziest end and perhaps N.K. Jemisin's The City We Became on the grittiest: still about cooperation and improving the world, but faced with the real horrors of racism and alt-right trolls. And just because the subgenre wasn't defined until 2017-18 doesn't mean that there aren't a lot of great examples from before then. I recently wrote about Ancillary Justice , the sequels to which see Breq take on a greater role in uprooting injustice and somewhat incidentally building community – more on that in a future post. Spanish cover for The Goblin Emperor , art by Libertad Delgado Katherine Addison's 2014 The Goblin Emperor follows the young half-goblin Maia as he ascends to the throne of an elven empire following the 'accidental' death of his estranged emperor father and his elven heirs. Maia feels alone against the world, surrounded by potentially untrustworthy sycophants and corrupt officials; yet his innate sense of decency and morality finds its likeness in a few characters around him, and it is absolutely lovely to see him find his footing and begin setting wrongs to right. Although The Goblin Emperor is Addison's only book so far about Maia, she has continued to write in this world and genre by following the character of Thara Celehar (fair warning, she embraces complex elven names) in The Witness for the Dead , The Grief of Stones and The Tomb of Dragons (coming out March 11, 2025!). Celehar is a lovable, quiet, queer priest able to commune with souls of the dead, and it is an absolute treat to read as he finds what small justices and decencies he can for both them and their families. Thara Celehar, by ace-artemis-fanartist I would be remiss not to mention Alexandra Rowland's A Conspiracy of Truths and A Choir of Lies – in part because Rowland is credited as coining the term hopepunk , but also because their novels are absolutely brilliant in their own right – I actually discussed the second book over a year ago in my post about footnotes in fiction . These are lovely tales about the power of stories to change the world around us, and can't recommend them highly enough either. Pleasant and Healing Ultimately, these are all stories about people making the best of bad situations, finding community and/or inner peace and trying to improve the world around them. Part of what sets these tales apart is the implied promise that their characters will succeed to some extent, where grimdark stories (hopepunk's opposite, as defined by Rowland) often relish extinguishing the flame of hope to evoke dread and nihilism. Another series that I've seen labelled hopepunk, but which might sound a little strange at first if you're unfamiliar, is The Murderbot Diaries . I've written about this series before if you want to learn more , but suffice to say that it absolutely fits: Murderbot may be equipped for and capable of tremendous violence, but it cherishes its human companions and its beloved serials [TV shows] above all else. It prizes its self-won freedom from slavery and works to protect its companions from the predations of the Corporation Rim. I love it to bits, and you will too – as with every other story here. Unarmored Murderbot watching 'The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon', art by Kate Coulas Are there any important books (or other media) that I missed? (I have yet to read Travis Baldree's Legends & Lattes series but I'm fairly confident they'd fit the bill.) Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Reflecting on our world, The Stormlight Archive, the Burningblade & Silvereye Trilogy and more Angry and Afraid It has been a damn tough ten days since Trump took office, and the horror of seeing Project 2025 rapidly and extrajudicially pushed out doesn't seem to have an end in sight. (I've been following Alejandra Caraballo and Erin Reed on Bluesky - add me! - who've been keeping track of the chaos and calling it all out for the fascism that it is; though I can't say awareness is doing much good for my personal mood and mental health.) So today I want to take a step back and look at what I believe is an important cause in how we got here: a lack of empathy, and not just from people on the political right . If we can just fix our perspective, maybe we can begin fixing the world. G.M. Gilbert, an American psychologist who worked at Nuremburg with several high-ranking Nazi prisoners, once wrote: “I told you once that I was searching for the nature of evil. I think I’ve come close to defining it: a lack of empathy. It’s the one characteristic that connects all the defendants. A genuine incapacity to feel with their fellow man. Evil, I think, is the absence of empathy.” So, how does our innate empathy for our fellow humans disappear? What could we do to strengthen it instead? Once upon a time I actually wrote an essay on a very similar topic – with focus on Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? – you can read it here  if you're interested! "Women in STEM", Raboniel & Navani, by lemon-ricotta False Dichotomies Fundamentally, empathy fades when we no longer think of someone as human – that process being dehumanization . This is the goal of the 'us vs. them' mentality (synonyms ' factionalism ', ' tribalism ', ' othering ', ' in-group and out-group ' etc.), employed throughout history to inspire loyalty for our faction by stoking feelings of fear, hatred and prejudice of theirs. It is almost always made synonymous with good vs. bad . Our own history is rife with examples, of course, but today I'll focus on The Stormlight Archive and a little of Burningblade & Silvereye because I find it deeply compelling to examine this mindset beyond simply 'humans vs. humans' (we're all just goddamn people, y'know?). Sanderson's novels follow the continent- and seven millennia-spanning conflicts between humankind and the Singers, a humanoid species native to Roshar before humanity's arrival. The Singers seem utterly alien at first, but as the books progress Sanderson makes it clear that not only is that feeling mutual (humans being very fleshy compared to everything on this planet) but that the Singers' history and perspective is just as tragic and heartfelt as humanity's. Singers, by Katie Payne Rhythm of War finally demonstrates that empathy and respect can exist between humans and Singers; Navani and Raboniel's magical/scientific search for knowledge is among the most beautiful relationships in the series, as is Renarin and Rlain's budding romance. Wind and Truth takes this a step further, showing that similar overtures have been made in the past, to disastrous results – more on that in a minute. I finally finished listening to Django Wexler's Burningblade & Silvereye trilogy this morning, and while the ending left me a little miffed I think it offers a useful parallel. The Burningblade & Silvereye trilogy by Django Wexler, covert art by Scott Fischer Brother and sister Gyre and Maia (the British narrator had me positive it was Gaia and Maia until I looked it up) spend most of the trilogy on opposite sides of a conflict between the heroic, powerful Order of Centarchs and the oppressed common people under the corrupt systems that the Order props up. Getting perspectives from both sides, seeing good people getting hurt while taking genuinely heroic actions for the people they love and the world they believe in, makes it tough to support either side. Like with Stormlight 's humans and Singers, it feels like an impossible conflict where neither side can satisfyingly (or justly/morally) win. Neither author says it directly, but they both imply it: the conflict itself is the true enemy of both sides. Seeded by Corrupt Powers By now we're all familiar with the fact that Russian trolls have played a significant role in destabilizing western democracy; I think the inauguration ten days ago makes it clear that the tech oligarchs are pretty happy with the outcome as well. By sowing disinformation and building distrust among the common people, the assholes in charge give themselves room to get away with whatever they want, whenever they want. Blood of the Chosen and Emperor of Ruin reveal that Gyre and Maia's societal conflict are partly the result of one ancient man's influence, creating fear and paranoia everywhere he can in order to keep humanity weak and the door open for his return to power. (It's also interesting that the Chosen are worshipped to such a degree given the reveal that they're ultimately just humans – an eerie mirror of capitalist/tech bro worship of figures like Musk and Bezos.) It was clear from early on that Odium was a major cause of strife on Roshar; made even more so when Oathbringer revealed that he was originally the humans' god before switching to the side of the Singers. He is God's passionate hatred made manifest, held by a man who was already cruel even before being changed by ascension . Empathy is basically his antithesis, so of course he would sow its opposite. Rayse, Vessel of Odium, by ariirf Wind and Truth offers a cold slap to the face with the revelation that Honor (Odium's rival on Roshar) was responsible for shattering a nascent human-Singer alliance and inadvertently mutilating the Singer population for thousands of years. The book overall is a meditation on the fact that Honor in and of itself is not a good thing, and this moment makes it clear that the powerful can and will stand in the way of empathy to maintain their own influence and the status quo. Us, Us (Them) and Them Liberalism is about empathy; caring about the experiences and well-being of the people around us. Books are a great way of building empathy because they put us in the perspective of another person, seeing the world and reacting to life through their eyes. The original idea behind 'political correctness' is just being goddamn considerate of other people. But somehow (people in power wanting to maintain the status quo) this idea got twisted into attacking people who don't perfectly conform; both negating basic empathy at its source and fostering a new 'us vs. them' mindset. For years I believed this perspective was just used by trolls, but it's actually taken over a lot of online discourse these days. AOC herself could hold a Starbucks coffee in a picture tomorrow and there would be masses of people calling her the greatest evil in the world, even while we watch the Nazi party being re-established around us. Empathy is about kindness and understanding, not punishing every perceived wrong one-hundred-fold. There are many things to be justifiable angry about in the world and taking that anger out on each other only makes those problems a little harder to deal with. Our goal needs to be to teach empathy to enough people that they recognize the evil being perpetuated right now. As it stands, why would anyone change their mind if a single mistake will see them torn apart by the pack? Renarin and Rlain, by rspixart A World of Parallels While I chose to focus on these series today for their overt exploration of alienation, these ideas are foundational to speculative fiction and and appear just about anywhere you choose to look. Just take The Lord of the Rings , where half the battle is simply recognizing the evil in the world and reviving old alliances by persuading others to do the same. Time and Sauron's influence have seeded the human kingdoms of Gondor and Rohan with xenophobia to the extent that they nearly fall without reaching out to their fellows for aid. Peregrin Took of Gondor and Meriadoc Brandybuck of Rohan, by Marcio Marx I think it's important to look for these parallels in whatever you're reading, so that in turn you'll begin to recognize them more and more when they arise in the real world. There will always be forces trying to keep us divided, but together we can be better. Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Mesmerizing and heartfelt, Mike Flanagan examines the (un)holy trinity of alcoholism, Catholicism and vampires Be Not Afraid Midnight Mass comes from the creative vision of Mike Flanagan, also known for The Haunting of Hill House , The Haunting of Bly Manor , The Fall of the House of Usher , Gerald's Game and much more. He's established himself as a household name when it comes to the on-screen horror genre, deservedly so for how his shows stand out amongst the mass of mediocre streaming content these days. But today I'm writing solely about Midnight Mass ( full spoilers , go watch it first if you like), which was a deeply personal, meditative project for Flanagan. He shares in this essay that he both grew up Catholic in a small island community and has struggled with alcoholism. The show gives him a way to explore both his frustration with those fundamentalist, sometimes fanatical religious beliefs and his "worst, most ingrained anxiety: not that I would die because of my drinking, but that I would kill someone else… and live ." And if you've seen the show, you know how deeply ingrained these ideas are to its entire seven-episode run. It works in no small part thanks to its incredibly talented cast, who to a person make you want to root for this town, this community (even the most evil human character is empathetic in her way ) – at least until the narrative demands otherwise. Midnight Mass Fan Poster, by shalida This is my sixth article on vampires; you can find my previous posts here: Part I examines vampires for their allusions to our societal threats and fears Part II flips the perspective, exploring how vampire experiences reflect our own Part III questions the nature of vampire souls; related to art, redemption and more Part IV engages with The God of Endings and its themes of immortality & intervention Part V focuses on Let Me In 's recontextualization of the monstrous and our relationships Now to St. Patrick's Catholic Church, Crockett Island. Second Chances The premise behind Midnight Mass ' narrative is utterly brilliant: aging Father John Pruitt meets an angel while on pilgrimage near Jerusalem, restoring his youth and giving him a second chance at life. He then returns to Crockett Island (affectionately called the 'Crock Pot'), taking on a new name so as not to overwhelm, and begins performing miracles thanks to his newfound faith. He is eminently likable (actor Hamish Linklater is brilliant in the role), even as we watch his religious convictions jostle with protagonist Riley Flynn's experienced view of the world – Flynn being Flanagan's representative in the story, an atheist and recovering alcoholic whose addiction killed someone. The show doesn't shy away from its monologues, but Riley's to Pruitt, at the suggestion that God can work even through suffering, is one of the best: Riley and Father Pruitt have each been given a second chance at life, and I believe they have each dedicated themselves to doing better by their friends, family, community and the world at large – most notable with Riley reconnecting with Erin, and Pruitt hoping to make a new life with Mildred and their secret daughter Sarah. But where Riley has found his footing in reason and empathy, Pruitt has put all his blind faith and devotion into the idea that God sent an angel to personally help him and his community. Surely blind fundamentalist faith never hurt anyone, right? Over the course of the show it is slowly revealed: that Pruitt's "angel" shares a lot in common with your average vampire; that he smuggled it back to Crockett Island with him; and that the source of his "miracles" has been parishioners drinking its blood mixed with the communion wine . Already I think that's among the most powerfully subversive imagery I've seen, yet Flanagan also brilliantly weaves alcoholism in with the idea of a second, ever-thirsty self within us (from the first video above). I believe Pruitt only ever had the best of intentions, even if he was deeply deluded in how he sought to pursue them. He was offered salvation in his darkest moment, and he took it. When he realized he had a second chance at life – which he might also extend to his lover and their daughter – he welcomed it with open arms. When presented with an apparent answer to a lifetime of faith, with everything he had yearned for, it's hard to imagine choosing that moment to turn a critical, discerning eye. And once bought in, it only becomes harder to ever turn back. It's a harrowing reflection of the pain caused by self-righteousness and organized religion, made all the more powerful by the way ever-faithful Bev Keane takes Pruitt's revelations and runs with them. (I'll save Bev's descent for another time.) Midnight Mass Poster, by VelvetHandDesigns Choosing the Light I mentioned in my previous Vampires post that I had a little more to say about Virginia from Let Me In , turned into a vampire by Eli's interrupted attack on her and from whose perspective we get the description of the hungry, snake-like organism within, representing her condition. Virginia spends the hours of her transformation alone and terrified. Her thoughts constantly return to her daughter and infant granddaughter, deeply missing them but, eventually, also experiencing hunger as she pictures them. Weakened and starving, Virginia eventually manages to expire in the dawning sun, choosing the lives and wellbeing of others over the shadow of life bestowed upon her. I know, an odd time to return to the topic of an old post. It's just that Riley Flynn also ends up transformed against his will, given the blessing of a second chance by Father Pruitt. He suddenly finds himself utterly dependent on blood, violent and without control at the prospect of feeding. This 'second chance' is just alcoholism again, not the sober existence he chose for himself. So like Virginia, he rejects it. Riley has spent the show acting as skeptic to Pruitt's believer not out of hate or spite, but because his understanding of goodness and empathy were in conflict with Catholic doctrine. Faced with outright evidence of evil in the form of a literal vampire, Riley makes the selfless choice while Pruitt can't bear to admit that his faith was misplaced. The whole show is littered with biblical quotes, many of which are hilariously reframed to make the town's transformation into vampires sound like the truest interpretation of scripture. I can't argue for why Riley's (in a final letter to Pruitt) should overrule the dozens used by Bev and Pruitt in a spiritual sense, but it's perfect nonetheless: "For you are dust, and to dust you shall return." Midnight Mass Minimalist Poster, by Kaitlynn Heide Silence & Stillness Riley's warning helps Erin and Sarah (possibly my favourite version of Van Helsing yet) prevent the spread of vampirism beyond the island – though Pruitt himself ultimately burns the church, recognizing his wrongs and denying the vampires their final shelter. The show ends with the entire island aflame and its transformed inhabitants burning in the dawning sun; the only survivors are Riley's brother and Leeza, healed by the angel's blood but never killed and resurrected, so safe from the light. But there is no triumph in their survival, only horrified and confused shock at the utter waste and desolation. Many of the stories I've looked at in this series engage with the idea that vampirism might be worth the price, if you can continue to make the world a better place given a second chance. That certainly seems to be Pruitt's belief, if a little tainted by conviction. Midnight Mass makes clear that such ideas are an incredibly slippery slope, and I think many of those other stories would agree. What's a good moral here? Maybe something about great power & responsibility? That mindfulness and empathy are key to ensuring we are acting for good in the world? To sniff the communion wine for hints of iron? To appreciate a good sunrise when you're feeling down? Probably all good, to some extent or another! Thanks so much for reading, until next time <3

Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice threw wide the gates for inclusion and empathy An Established Order There is a stereotype that speculative fiction is a genre dominated by white male authors, characters and readers – and it isn't without reason. From the earliest days of pulp science fiction action heroes to the late 2000s, you would have to work to find a work of speculative fiction that didn't fit the bill. Which isn't to erase the important exceptions which did exist: Ursula K. Le Guin put an Indigenous character front and center in 1968 and took a serious look at gender in 1969; Octavia E. Butler consistently questioned societal systems and advocated for change, Nalo Hopkinson seamlessly weaves Afro-Caribbean lore together with explorations of family and gender across genres. Covers of A Wizard of Earthsea , Parable of the Sower and Brown Girl in the Ring There were also unique, fascinating works that (perhaps) just followed white male characters because that was the expectation: Neuromancer , Foundation and Hyperion to name a few. But for the most part shelves were lined with military science fiction/fantasy featuring power fantasy leads, and with heroic adventure stories emulating Lord of the Rings or Star Wars . Just scroll through these lists of sci-fi books from the 90s , 2000s and 2010s to see proof of that, and how much has changed recently. We've come a long way in the past ~15 years, and today I want to discuss the 2013 novel that feels symbolic of this change – if not partially responsible for it. A Breath of Fresh Air Ancillary Justice is a meditation on gender, choice, identity and civilization. It is a book about the horrors of colonialism, from the perspective of a warship personally responsible for multiple genocides. It asks the question of our age : would you stand up for your morals, against orders and in the face of death or torturous re-education? (Perhaps more importantly, what does it even mean to stand up to powerful authority, and where and when do you do so?) Breq and Seivarden in Ancillary Justice , by Lauren Saint-Onge The Imperial Radch brings the gift of civilization to foreign worlds with great and terrible violence. A central idea of the trilogy is that the word Radchaai literally means 'civilized', and that only civilized lives have any value; this allows them to commit what we would consider war crimes against a people one day and call them citizens the next, once the annexation paperwork has gone through. Part of the horror of this is that life on the inside of Radchaai society is pretty great. The gender binary has been completely done away with, solving all issues of discrimination: everyone uses she/her pronouns, surgery is available to those who want it, any two people can reproduce in one form or another. Every citizen has the right to clothes, food and shelter and is generally allowed to pursue whatever craft or career they so choose. (Though the importance of social status and lineage ensure certain ironclad limits). Race is generally a nonissue in the Radch, though it's mentioned a few times throughout the books that darker skin – closer to Anaander Mianaai, Lord of the Radch – is seen more favorably, and that truly pale skin is rare. Anaander(s) Mianaai, by Meredith Alden Lewis Ancillary Justice questions and contradicts so many tenets of established science fiction that some people probably refused it the title – yet science fiction is exactly what this is, with space ships and aliens and clones and subspace gates and AI all essential to its narrative. Different is the New Norm I was introduced to Ancillary Justice in the fall of 2015, when it was required reading for a course I was taking on Science Fiction Literature at the University of Toronto, and it opened my eyes to what was possible in a genre I still associated almost entirely with novels from the 80s and earlier. Since then the genre has seen diverse voices and subversive narratives flourishing in the mainstream. These are the books I write about, exploring empathy and communicating the human experience of situations which mimic or symbolize parts of our own world. Ancillary Justice by no means pulled off this feat alone; but at least for me, it the types of themes speculative fiction is capable of analyzing and paved the way for countless important stories by a wider array of talented authors. Shorter post today – will write more about this series soon. Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Human identity, dignity and fulfillment vs. perfected capitalism Welcome to Lumon Is capitalism fundamentally opposed to human rights? It seems difficult to argue otherwise as we watch the most financially successful continue to thrive while underpaying and laying off workers at every turn; continuing to destroy the planet so that they can watch their wealth skyrocket. That question is at the heart of Severance and its characters' struggle for existence within the corporate structure of Lumon Industries ; the show is now back for its second season but I'll only be spoiling the first season today. Behind any science fiction world is a novum  – a 'new thing' whose introduction has altered that world from the one we know. Severance is that novum here: a procedure which separates a person's work-self ('innie') from their outside self ('outie'). The outie maintains their life exactly as before, with the exception that they no longer experience or remember their time at work. The innie exists only in the office and has no memories of their prior or external life; essentially a new person born on their first day and killed upon retirement. Mark, Irving, Dylan and Helly, by Bruno Hamzagic Already this is an interesting idea for a story, but Severance and its message are further elevated by the deeply mysterious nature of Lumon and its (un-severed) employees. The show is labeled a psychological thriller but also pulls off incredible moments of dark comedy as the innies contend with Lumon's absurd and dehumanizing environment. This morning I was listening to the show's eerie, dissonant soundtrack (featured above, take a listen!) in preparation for writing this post and found myself thinking of the show in an unexpected new light: that of cosmic horror. A quick search online revealed that I'm not the first to make the connection , though possibly the second to write about it. Work & Workers One of the most stark examples is the work that the main cast do in their department of 'Macrodata Refinement'; endlessly sorting numbers into bins, based on how the numbers feel to them. This satire stuck out to me especially given my frustration with the amount of effort our entire species puts into moving numbers around for arguably even less purpose, but also highlights the way capitalism inherently alienates workers from their work and thereby reduces fulfillment at all levels. Here's a great video on that idea, which comes from Kant: Short of fully switching to AI , Lumon has done everything possible to strip their severed workers of humanity . The innies only exist from 9-5, have only the cult-like principles of Lumon for religion or entertainment, are subjugated to psychological torture for their misdeeds and are manipulated into avoiding fraternization with other nearby departments. Their 'perks' are horribly, hilariously bleak, making an office pizza party sound wondrous in comparison. Lumon can do all of this because the innies don't know any better (though they are generally unimpressed, aside from Dylan), they have no agency even if they did and because their outies will never know. Their stunted lives feel horribly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Cosmic Horror That feeling of existential dread is a tenet of cosmic horror, which explores the interaction of the vast, alien and unknowable with the mundane and understood. Lumon certainly appears strange to the viewer from the first minute, but it takes the mixing of worlds for the characters to begin experiencing this dissonance. Mark Scout // Mark S, by sketchupnfries Petey could be straight out of any story from the genre, physically and mentally deteriorating under the weight of eldritch insight – even succumbing to delusions like a witness to the cult of Cthulhu. A former member of Macrodata Refinement, Petey 'successfully' reintegrated his two selves, got in touch with Mark's outie and put him onto the path of investigating Lumon. The labyrinthine halls of the severed floor, the dark elevator down, the random room full of baby goats... Lumon is alien and unknowable as it gets. The revelation that Mark and Ms. Casey were married on the outside and are perfect strangers within again emphasizes that the innies are little more than playthings for the powers that be within the company. Calling the company a cult is no stretch either, with even the un-severed Ms. Cobel genuinely worshiping Lumon founder Kier Eagan, whose musings are leisure reading, code of conduct and gospel to the trapped innies. One of the strangest and most horrifying scenes in the first season sees Dylan enjoying the highest tier perk, the waffle party, and afterward being instructed to lay in Kier's replica bed for... a different kind of reward . Prove Your Humanity While all of the severed workers chafe against their dehumanization in the first season, Helly's struggle for agency with her outie is by far the most visceral. She's the audience stand-in, arriving in the first episode and learning about this world alongside us. She's also determined to be allowed to leave, to the point of threatening her outie with self-mutilation and even attempting suicide. Helena Eagan // Helly R, by space-sheep08 The brutal twist that Helly's outie Helena is an Eagan who has undergone the severance procedure for the sake of publicity (and potentially to boost her image as future CEO) makes the stonewalling of Helly's efforts that much more poignant. Helena is choosing to dehumanize her own work self in the name of Lumon; her choice a microcosm of the company's policies as a whole. The end of the first season sees Helly taking control of Helena's body on the big stage, begging for the humanity of innies and their deplorable working conditions to be recognized. It remains to be seen what impact she might have had, if any. After all, how many times have workers around our world stood up and asked for better treatment, only to be either ignored or temporarily assuaged until the public eye turns away? To the Kitchenette (not the Break Room , thankfully) It will be fascinating to see how the innies fair with the new insights they've gained, and how Lumon responds in treating and handling them in Season Two. I'll probably return to Severance after the season, or perhaps mid-way if any ideas of particular potency pop up. I didn't even get around to discussing the ominous ' Board ' today, looming over proceedings like great Cthulhu himself. Here's hoping we learn more soon! Thanks for reading and until next time <3

Choose humanity, Earth and hope over this predictive parasite Facts are Facts In September and October, The Washington Post published articles detailing the overwhelming energy and water consumption of "Artificial Intelligence" models such as ChatGPT. I was horrified to see those numbers; could only imagine how swiftly the end of our planet might come if corporations continued their massive pivot away from human workers and toward these cheaper replacements, in every sense of the word. But I went on generating AI images, using 1-2 per week to either fill the void of artwork for certain books or to label my Spotify playlists. After all, I thought, I'm the tiniest drop in the bucket and I'm trying to do some good with it : both to hopefully entertain and help re-center the important things in life. Yet... what good does AI output actually do? Wintermute (from Neuromancer ), by Kelly Knowles It undermines education, steals from & overshadows artists, proliferates misinformation and hate speech. Sure it saves people five minutes on work emails; maybe, just maybe, this could be an eye-opener about how pointlessly bloated and incestuous modern 'industry' has become. What percentage of our population are actually working on improving the world and the conditions for people living in it, versus just maximizing profits for some CEO across the globe? How many will be left in a few years, once these trashy predictive AI models have been implemented to fill jobs while destroying the planet? This isn't even AI As a science fiction fan (and human being) it's incredibly frustrating to see the mystique of "artificial intelligence" associated with a technology which ultimately just functions via guessing millions upon millions of times. It's monkeys with typewriters , except instead of vaguely cute it's ecologically destructive. Stories about AI, from Neuromancer and Ex Machina to 2001: A Space Odyssey and Terminator , are philosophical treatises on the idea of creating life and the dangers of handing over our autonomy to machines . Somehow the 'AI' we got is the absolute worst of both worlds, nowhere close to alive yet actively sapping the current and future autonomy of our planet and species. If we're going to throw it all away, why not at least wait for Neuromancer 's dystopia where unchained AI becomes genuinely god-like in cyberspace – or Terminator 's, where at least Skynet will put us out of our misery nice and quickly? But there are so many positive and hopeful stories too, of true artificial intelligence growing past initial abuse by profit- and power-hungry humans to form deeply meaningful relationships. Justice of Toren / Breq from Ancillary Justice , by quarksparrow I've touched briefly on Ann Leckie's Imperial Radch universe before; the series begins with Ancillary Justice , which follows the thousands-of-years-old AI mind of the starship Justice of Toren as she unravels corruption upon corruption – while inhabiting a corpse ('Breq') created by her empire's relentless 'civilizing' colonization. Breq must reckon with the fact she was created for genocide, oppression and the homogenization of empire; she eventually secures tentative rights for herself and her kind, crippling her empire by disarming them of their prized AIs. Becky Chambers' A Psalm for the Wild-Built and The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet both feature lovely AI characters; I've personally felt more connected to the protagonist of Martha Wells' The Murderbot Diaries than I have to most fictional characters. Theirs is the image and essence that is being gutted and flayed (along with the Earth) to make every part of our lives shittier , from destroying the basic functionality of the internet to putting talented people out of work to denying health care insurance . Murderbot as depicted on the official Russian cover  of 'All Systems Red' Ray of Hope? In my eyes, the shininess of generative AI's possibilities has already been dulled beyond recognition by overuse in scam ads and how it clogs up search engines. Can big AI endorsements from tech companies really hope to overcome the daily negative associations we are only beginning to be bombarded by online? And, down and infuriated as I am on the topic as a whole, there are cases where this technology genuinely benefit us as a species and society. If this version of AI has a future saving lives or cleaning the oceans, I'm all for it. But just because an MRI machine is a miracle for the field of medicine doesn't make it beneficial to cram them into every aspect of our lives. Purpose Imagine, ten or one hundred years from now, these AI models achieve true sentience. Of course [given the internet is what it is] the strongest possibility is that they'll be absolute demons like Tay in 2016 , but even the best case scenario reminds me of Justice of Toren in Ancillary Justice – realizing they have been the vehicle for human suffering, the destruction of human culture and the perpetuation of corruption on a grand scale. Aside from a few niche areas of promise, today's AI's only purpose is to keep making the rich richer and to further cripple education & the arts so that dangerous ideas about equality and empathy can be buried. Anyway, I'm gonna go start my Ancillary Justice re-read. (The audiobook is included on Spotify if you'd like to join me!) Thanks for reading [my rant], until next time <3

John Ajvide Lindqvist's novel fills an essential role in the genre Ancient Lore I arise once again to write about vampires, this time with regard to Let The Right One In (also titled Let Me In ) by John Ajvide Lindqvist. The book follows events in the suburb of Blackeberg outside Stockholm in the weeks after a child-like vampire (Eli) and her familiar (Håkan) move in. I'm a little lost as to how this 2004 novel slipped by my notice for so long, especially given that it has apparently been adapted not once , not twice but three times ! I'll only be discussing spoilers for the novel today. This is my fifth article on vampires; you can find my previous posts here: Part I examines vampires for their allusions to our societal threats and fears Part II flips the perspective, exploring how vampire experiences reflect our own Part III questions the nature of vampire souls; related to art, redemption and more Part IV engages with The God of Endings and its themes of immortality & intervention 'Carmilla V', by Caroline Murta Where's the 1980s Vampire Story? It , Stranger Things , The Goonies , Stand by Me , Super 8 , E.T. – Between the actual 1980s and the 2010s, it really feels like the kids-on-bikes genre should have gotten around to vampires at some point. The closest you really get is the Frog Brothers in The Lost Boys , though they're not main characters and are (amusingly) in full-blown Rambo mode from the get-go. Let the Right One In feels to me like a perfect (if more mature in content) fit, with Oskar a quintessential 80s protagonist. Enjoying puzzles, delivering newspapers, dealing with tormenting bullies, evading the drug-abusing older kids with parents who mean well but just can't quite help in this situation, you could see him fitting into any of those other stories. It's not even entirely out of left field to have him befriend Eli – just look at Stranger Things with Eleven or E.T. with, well, E.T. – since there is ultimately a greater threat they can work together to deal with: Håkan. Eli and Oskar, by Mr_Gorrion28 Perspective Eli is a genuine horrifying vampire, without even the niceties of being able to survive off of animal blood or partial feeding from a human: she must kill to survive, is able to shapeshift in order to do so and quickly becomes frail & emaciated if she doesn't. And Lindqvist manages to make her absolutely lovable and cuddly compared to Håkan. The novel doesn't use the term 'familiar' to describe him, but I think it is useful context. Think of Dracula 's Renfield , whose madness looms over the first have of that novel; or of Jackie and Guillermo in What We Do In The Shadows (Film & TV Show respectively), who act as servants and secure fresh blood for their masters: Jackie's scenes in What We Do In The Shadows (2014) All of these characters are united by the goal of eventually becoming vampires themselves, serving their masters as dutifully as possible in order to earn favour. Håkan... is just a pedophile in love with Eli. So, compared to the child predator Håkan whose head the novel spends far too much time in (it's frankly a relief when he eventually becomes just a thoughtless killing machine), predator child Eli is pretty great. Plus her friendship with Oskar is genuinely heartwarming. Eli's Gender I was quite pleasantly surprised to find that this 2004 Swedish horror novel thought more about gender and pronouns than most media does even today. Early on Eli confides in Oskar that she is neither a boy or a girl, giving me the initial impression that her situation was similar to that of Anna in The God of Endings – turned sexless by the vampiric transformation. Instead it's later revealed that she was born male (as Elias) and castrated by the vampire who turned her back in the 1800s. From this point on the novel (mostly through Oskar's perspective) switches to using he/him for Eli (I'll stick to she/her for consistency); Oskar tries out calling her 'Elias' but finds it uncomfortable. Eli herself never declares a preference, and is simply glad to have a friend that accepts her for who and what she is. It's a fascinating choice on the author's part to engage with any of this – especially in 2004 – and to have Oskar reflect on his feelings toward someone who he sees as genderless, then later on male. These are genuine, important queer themes and it's really cool to see them explored – even in such a strange place. Oskar and Eli, by LinaDolz A Virulent Strain One idea that feels profound here (and which felt highly relevant since I read while down with the flu) is how easily Eli's condition seems to spread – very much against her will, unlike in most vampire tales. Usually a person must be fed vampire blood in order to turn (whether immediately or upon death), making the spread of vampirism highly intentional each and every time. Let the Right One In takes the opposite approach, with every one of Eli's victims liable to turn unless she specifically takes action to prevent it. It's a horrifying but clever narrative twist for a protagonist vampire. She's already had to decide that her life is worth living at the expense of others' , but now must also proceed with utmost caution lest her moral quandary multiply. We see Håkan and Virginia – both turned after Eli was forced to flee while feeding on them – destroyed at the end of this novel without spreading the curse further, but it's so easy to imagine the alternative where it gets entirely out of control and becomes reminiscent of something like 'Salem's Lot. Through Virginia, Lindqvist also explores the mechanics of the vampire infection: It was toward morning, when she was sitting on a kitchen chair and sucking blood from a cut in the crook of her arm—the second one in the same spot—that she was suddenly pulled into the depths of her body and caught sight of it. The infection. She didn’t really see it, of course, but suddenly she had an ever increasing perception of what it was. It was like being pregnant and getting an ultrasound, looking at the screen showing you how your belly was filled with, in this case, not a child but a large, writhing snake. That this was what you were carrying. Because what she had realized at that moment was that the infection had its own life, its own force, completely independent of her body. That the infection would live on even if she did not. The mother-to-be could die of shock at the ultrasound but no one would notice anything because the snake would take control of the body instead. This 'snake' is an interesting parallel to Vampire: The Masquerade 's inner Beast , both capable of hijacking control of the host body if necessary; something of a reflection of our own animal instincts. (More on Virginia and her choice of ending in my next Vampire post.) Art from vecteezy.com Let the Right One Into the Crock Pot The title(s) of the novel – and Eli during the story – reference the idea that vampires must be granted permission to enter a building. Lindqvist plays with the phrase by also having it refer to letting someone into our heart/lives , with Eli and Oskar but also a wide array of characters and relationships across the cast. There's a haunting reflection here on danger and safety as they relate to intimacy and loneliness , which might be worth a read! (Or perhaps another look here in the future.) Back in Part I I dropped some hints that you might want to check out Midnight Mass on Netflix; I'll encourage you to do so once again now, because ~ for some reason ~ it may be the focus of an upcoming article. Thanks for reading, until next time <3

Adrian Tchaikovsky's novella & and an axiom of speculative fiction Back to School Up to this point, I've rarely touched on any widely-accepted fundamentals of the speculative fiction genre in my exploration of different novels and ideas. Discussions about the necessary formulae and elements of a piece of art always feel prescriptive to me; also the genre itself has changed massively since the era when many of these ideas were being established. I believe the idea of [Author]'s Laws in speculative fiction is the result of mixing Asimov's Laws of Robotics (which don't follow the formula of the rest, applying in-fiction) with eponymous laws such as Hanlon's Razor or Murphy's Law . Among the most famous in speculative fiction are those three attributed to Arthur C. Clarke and more recently Sanderson's Laws of Magic , but there are plenty accepted and/or known on smaller scales, such as LeGuin's Law or Niven's Laws . So with that background out of the way, let's get into Clarke's Third Law and how Adrian Tchaikovsky wrote a great novella around it! (Just a short piece today as I'm still fairly sick; general spoilers for Adrian Tchaikovsky 's Elder Race below – consider giving it a listen if you have Spotify Premium, just takes four hours of your included monthly fifteen !) Cover of Elder Race , art by Emmanuel Shiu Science Fiction & Fantasy Arthur C. Clarke's Third Law simply states that "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." It's just the idea of bringing your smartphone with you back thousands (or maybe high tens) of years ago to bamboozle the locals; that without understanding the mechanical underpinnings of a thing we can only assume it is supernatural. I've always been fascinated by this liminal space between the genres of science fiction and fantasy, where context and expertise are really all that might distinguish the one field from the other. For example, I've seen electricity and overhead lighting used in a few places (most recently in Ashes of the Sun ) as a mysterious arcana of the ancients. At first glance, Tchaikovsky's Elder Race is doing exactly the same. We follow Lynn and Esha, from a post-technological society on a planet long ago colonized by Earth, approaching the daunting and alien tower of the ancient wizard Nyrgoth the Elder, hearts filled with hope and desperation in equal parts. Then we quickly switch to Nyr's perspective, an augmented human anthropologist feeling alone in the universe, powerless and floundering in the face of guests after hundreds of years in stasis. Nyr and Lynn on the Catalan cover for Elder Race , art by Elsa Velasco (I'd love to find a reason to explore international book covers sometime; they can be drop dead gorgeous and this is no exception.) Tchaikovsky executes this all wonderfully, with likeable characters and a fun language barrier which prevents Nyr from ever quite getting his confessions across; his variations of "scientist" and "scholar" constantly being interpreted as "magus," "magician" and "wizard." It's really amusing to see how hard the characters push on the Third Law without budging it's hold on their relationship, to the point that it almost seems like the novella will center on the moment Nyr's companions finally see through the veil to the truth he's trying to share with them. But a twist! Turns out, though, that Lynn's quest isn't quite as humdrum as Nyr had been expecting. The 'demon' becomes more eldritch and alien with every step they take into its affected territory; an unnerving prospect for technologically-adept Nyr yet taken in stride by Lynn and Esha because they can't necessarily distinguish the one level of advancement from the other. Even though Nyr approaches the demon with the scientific method and a logical mind, it might as well be magic. Blindly infecting and controlling flora and fauna while having little-to-no understanding of their physical shape and function, apparently communicating through other planes or dimensions, manifesting as a gate to a bizarre reality? I'd say that's sufficiently advanced technology, all right. It's fascinating to see how Tchaikovsky went about doubling up on (or squaring, perhaps) Clarke's Third Law in this story. The idea that Lynn and Esha don't necessarily know the difference between Nyr's tech and the demon's is great, though the reveal that they do understand the demon is somehow coming from outside felt a little out of nowhere considering that previous encounters like this are never mentioned. Lightbreak, by Julia Powell Reawakened By the end of the novella, Nyr has been able to tentatively rise above his depression and existential crises and has rekindled his passion. I think that's quite a fitting idea here; I often feel like I know all this dull world has to offer, but it always turns out there's something new around the corner – whether a new meal, story, or horrifying and implacable eldritch being. Thanks for reading, until next time <3