Books read, early March
Mar. 16th, 2026 08:50 pmRuth Awad, Set to Music a Wildfire. A poetry collection that is very directly about her experiences as a daughter of a Lebanese immigrant and her father's experiences in Lebanon. Interesting but not particularly subtle; I'm not sure it's fair to demand subtlety on these topics.
M.H. Ayinde, A Song of Legends Lost. A thumping big fantasy. Did I read this because one of the characters is eating plantains very early on and I love plantains? Well. That wasn't the only reason. But the things it said about the worldbuilding drew me in and kept me going for many hundred pages.
Shane Bobrycki, The Crowd in the Early Middle Ages. Bobrycki noticed a gaping hole between the Roman Empire and the Renaissance when it came to the influence of large group behavior in Europe, and this book is him examining what we know about that, what crowds there actually were, what impact they had on the life of their cultures and why. He manages to remember that Europe does not just mean Italy at first and later France and England, which is always nice.
Eliane Boey, Club Contango. I really like Boey's prose, and this started out well for me, but as the narrative bore inexorably down on the plot twist and I could no longer pretend it would not be that particular plot twist--which I had foreseen at the very beginning and really hoped it would not be--I grew more and more frustrated. Here's hoping her next thing doesn't lean on a twist of that particular sort.
Sarah E. Bond, Strike: Labor, Unions, and Resistance in the Roman Empire. Bond is clear and explicit about where she's drawing parallels between modern unions and ancient groups that have similar traits, and she's willing to make her arguments about them specific rather than handwavey. A corrective for too much of the assumption that the people of the past were not like us, and an angle on the ancient world more interesting to me than most.
Michael Brown, The Wars of Scotland, 1214-1371. Definitely what it says on the tin, from the top-down perspective rather than anything about what these wars were like for the rank and file. Did you know the Scots were not a restful people in this era? welp.
Steph Cherrywell, The Ink Witch. I loved this so much. It's MG fantasy that's actually funny rather than adult-trying-too-hard, it's got ink magic and a tarantula familiar and a lovely fierce trans heroine whose plot is not about being trans, it's about magic quests and family politics and mermaids and yeti and running a little motel. It's so great, I'm so happy about this book.
P.F. Chisholm, A Taste of Witchcraft. At this point in this series (this is book 10, don't start here), we are no longer talking about an historical murder mystery series but more generally an historical adventure series. This one goes very, very vividly into the tortures accused witches suffered, so if you're not feeling up for that, maybe not this one. It also features quite a bit of my favorite characters in the series, though.
Sunyi Dean, The Girl With a Thousand Faces. Discussed elsewhere.
Nicola Griffith, She Is Here. A short collection of essays, poems, and short stories. Most of the essays were familiar to me from previous sources, but they go well here thematically. I love Griffith's novels, but her shorter work does not feel as strong or essential to me. For me this is a nice-to-have, not a must-have.
Bassem Khandaqji, A Mask the Color of the Sky. A novel about a young Palestinian man who has aspirations in both archaeology and fiction--who is writing a novel about Mary Magdalen, or trying to--who looks at the wider world and wants a wider life. And then he finds an ID that will allow him, with his particular appearance, to readily pass as a Jewish Israeli, and he does that for a while, and it's the sort of book where the complications are primarily internal, emotional, mental, about his place in the world and his identity, rather than thriller novel shooty-shoot complications. It's short and fairly straightforward.
Margrit Pernau, Emotions and Temporalities. Kindle. This is one of a series of short monographs that I downloaded a while ago, and it's the first where I've really felt that the format limited content beyond what was useful. I wanted a lot more context on emotionality and assessments of past/present/future in the cultures Pernau was discussing; I felt like more and longer examples would have strongly benefitted her argument. Ah well, I'm told you can't win them all.
Dana Simpson, Unicorn Secrets. This is the latest of a collection of daily strips of the comic Phoebe & Her Unicorn, which I don't read daily, I read them in collection form. It is nice and fun and nice. Is this the best of them, no, but it does what I wanted it to do, it is a pleasant diversion.
Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle. Reread. So one of the things I didn't fully notice when I read this the first time, 25 years ago on a friend's futon waiting for another friend's wedding, is that this is an almost perfect balance of Victorian and modern novel. Specifically: money is allowed to be the main concern. Money is discussed in detail, what food you can get for it and what clothes and what marriage will do about it and how we feel about that. Marriage is still considered to be the main way that women handle money, but no longer the only way (and the ending makes that matter rather than blurring to a romantic "isn't it lovely that the marrying couple just happens to have enough funds after all?" that some of the other books both Victorian and modern fall back on). It is very matter-of-fact about sex and sexuality for its publication date, but not in a smarmy or overbalanced way. This is also one of fiction's non-evil stepmothers, and bless her for that.
D.E. Stevenson, Miss Buncle's Book. Kindle. A very gentle comedy about a spinster in a small village who writes a novel with keen observations of all her neighbors and sets the whole town on its ear. I'm fascinated by the line Stevenson manages to walk between letting the Great Depression feel real (Miss Buncle needs her book to make her money! it's not quite as money-focused as I Capture the Castle but still) and still keeping it upbeat for the people who were reading the book as an escape from that very same Great Depression. Not terribly deep, fairly predictable in its larger plot though not necessarily in its scene incidentals, fun all the same.
Ethan Tapper, How to Love a Forest: The Bittersweet Work of Tending a Changing World. I was a bit disappointed in this, which aims at being a lyrical memoir of a life in forestry. The lyricism is repetitive (which is harder to forgive considering how short this volume is) and in places twee (writing some sections about himself in the third person as "the man" did not work for me), and in general there was a great deal less how than I hoped for. He talked about what he was doing, he even talked in general terms about those who might not understand how killing plants could help a forest ecosystem. But as it was memoir rather than science essay, he felt no need to go into the evidence behind his positions--and, crucially, actions.
Jo Walton and Ada Palmer, Trace Elements: Conversations on the Project of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Discussed elsewhere.
Vid: Tightrope (One Piece Live Action)
Mar. 16th, 2026 12:12 pm(CW: guns, violence, smoking - the usual show stuff. No fast/stuttery cuts.)
Music: Janelle Monae
Length: 2:48
Crossposted: On AO3 | on Tumblr
Download: 212 Mb MP4 (zipped)
A miscellanea
Mar. 16th, 2026 07:17 pmThis is so much what I've been thinking about a different period that I'm writing about - that it's there, even though people are saying It's Ded, it's just not doing the flashy newsworthy visible stuff or the results are the things are are not, or no longer, happening: The one thing everyone gets wrong about feminism.
***
I am a great admirer of Professor Athene Donald's blog, and I like this recent post: Unintended Consequences - in particular perhaps this apercu:
Business gurus tend to talk about ‘being authentic’ as the right way to lead. But if you are a testy, over-bearing soul being authentic may be very destructive for those around you.
So much that.
***
This is another story about mobility in the world: Looted from a royal palace: The medieval jug now on display in London:
A large bronze medieval jug bearing the English royal coat of arms would be a rare find if dug up in England, but somehow it had ended up in West Africa, in modern-day Ghana, thanks to early trading routes between nations.
Dating from between 1340 and 1405, the jug is the largest surviving bronze ewer from medieval England. Decorated with an English inscription, royal heraldry and coat of arms, it was originally a luxury object — but its meaning changed dramatically as it moved across continents.
***
I've had to do with either this artefact or another very similar in my working days, I did not know about the biological contamination (we didn't know for quite some time about the radioactive notebooks, either): a parchment scroll designed to guard against the dangers of childbirth:
Until now, this scroll’s worn surface and suggestive staining constituted the main evidence for its use in childbirth. However, new research by Sarah Fiddyment, presented in the exhibition, reveals that human proteins found on the scroll’s surface indicate the presence of cervico-vaginal fluid. This is an important breakthrough in the burgeoning field of biocodicology, which seeks out the invisible traces left behind by users of manuscripts, as they held, rubbed or kissed a parchment.
(I hadn't heard that story about the dormouse, but wot she does not mention the Godalming rabbit lady?!).
***
You know, I would have sworn that back in my working days I came across something appertaining to this historic event: How smallpox claimed its final victim, but I'm unable to trace it.
Day 21: Shadow Continues to Mellow
Mar. 16th, 2026 02:11 pmWhile he was quite surprised to walk out for his morning on-leash ablutions into heavy snow above his knees, he's really starting to relax.
This morning I reached down to stroke his back and he didn't flinch.
Just now I was resting on the floor by his bed, petting his back. I started to scritch the scruff of his neck, and he relaxed even more, his dark eyes shining up at MyGuy behind the camera. (I'm reclining on my tripled-up exercise pad just behind him, shockingly without glasses.)
( Read more... )
Only 28 days of enforced rest to go!
Must Read Short Speculative Fiction: February 2026
Mar. 16th, 2026 06:00 pmMust Read Short Speculative Fiction: February 2026
Published on March 16, 2026
This month I once again bring two new magazines into the spotlight on top of the ones long established in my rotation. Many of these stories are bittersweet or end on a note of impending doom. I wonder why those were the pieces I gravitated to in February? It’s not like everything is terrible and we’re on the brink of a third world war or—*checks notes* Oh. Okay. Well, here are ten awesome short science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories for you anyway.
“Corporeal Form” by Kit Harding
(Penumbric—February 2026; issue 5) Two ghosts work at a haunted beach attraction. The protagonist takes a liking to a human tourist, Melody, who has come hoping to encounter the wailing Woman in White (aka the protagonist). The two form a brief but toxic relationship. I liked how Harding gives the reader just a snippet of this world. We get hints about other characters and tastes of the larger world, but for the most part it’s like looking through a pinhole; you know there’s more out there but you can’t see it. That narrow view adds to the unsettling feeling of the plot.
“The Embroidered Garden” by Manahil Bandukwala
(Tales & Feathers—February 2026; issue 4) Our narrator is a child waiting for Baba to return home after weeks of working at the port. They’re left behind with Amma, who is frustrated with the state of her garden. Our narrator is practicing their embroidery and somehow the flowers they stitch come to life in the garden. And so do other things, even foxes. Whatever they can stitch, they can make appear. The ending of this story made me sit up and shout “Oh no!” For most of the way through it feels like a sweet little magical realism tale and the end takes a sharp turn.
“Jumper on the Troll Bridge” by Shannon Cross
(Flashpoint SF—February 2026; issue 1) Flashpoint SF has been around for a while, but they recently switched from releasing individual stories on their website to collecting them together in a single issue. In this new format, it was my pleasure to read this story about a troll trying to collect bridge tolls. The only way it can get tolls nowadays are through people who jump off the bridge in an attempt to take their life. But this isn’t a dark story about suicide. Rather, it’s about second chances. I’m from the San Francisco Bay Area, and the Golden Gate Bridge used to be a common jump point until they put up barriers and installed phones that connect to crisis hotlines. Most people who survive a suicide attempt say they regretted trying almost immediately after they did it, and this story takes that on in a refreshing way.
“Medusa’s Ship, or The Thing About Bodies” by Natalia Theodoridou
(Beneath Ceaseless Skies—February 5, 2026; issue 450) This story is about a lot of things. It’s about gender and bodies and how we change ours so they fit better. It’s a play on the Ship of Theseus paradox where if you replace all the parts of the ship is it still the same ship. It references the Greek myth of Medusa but layers on feminism and patriarchy commentary. And since it’s Theodoridou, it also has a unique narrative style: the story is bookended by fragment sentences and em dashes. In the middle is the plot about a spaceship captain who arrives on a planet where the Ship can turn herself into a woman, but only as long as he keeps his eyes covered with a blindfold. A stunning story with a visually interesting layout and a compelling plot.
“Rest Stop” by Pedro Iniguez
(Nightmare—February 2026; issue 161) Yolanda and Bernard are on a road trip to El Paso. While in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert, Yolanda begs him to pull over at the next rest stop so she can use the bathroom. A simple request, but it lands like a ticking time bomb. The bruises on Yolanda’s arms tell the reader that this relationship isn’t a safe or kind one. In the dilapidated restroom, Yolanda is offered a choice: go back to the evil she knows or leave but into a future she knows nothing about. What if things are better if she leaves? What if things are worse? Iniquez’s flash fiction is weightier than its brevity would have you believe.
“The River Speaks My Name” by Ocoxōchitl la Coyota
(Strange Horizons—February 16, 2026) Two young women grow up in a small village. They spend their days playing in the river but avoid the strange abyss at the center of it. Until they revisit as adults and Isabella is sucked into it. When she emerges, she’s out of her mind with terror. After she dies, the land floods and the drought is temporarily abated. Our narrator realizes there is a connection to people who disappear in the river abyss and the storm that follows. That connection is haunting her now. A dark fantasy climate fiction story about sacrifice and tradition.
“This is Why Magical Realism and Family Tree School Projects Shouldn’t Mix” by Abigail Guerrero
(Adventitious—February 2026; issue 1) Adventitious is a new bimonthly magazine that, according to their website, covers “speculative, surreal, and literary fiction. We admire its reach, its weirdness, and its refusal to color inside any lines.” Their first issue had a lot of stories that were as unusual as they were unexpected, but the one that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about is Guerrero’s. Clarita is assigned a family tree project in school and the story is her presenting various people in her genealogy. One of Clarita’s ancestors had a child by a demon in goat form, so now all the descendants have goat parts. Another ancestor is a grumpy pile of bones. Guerrero touches on the tension that a lot of marginalized kids and kids with non-traditional families experience with these projects, like me. (Imagine being a Black 10-year-old in a predominately white school and having to tell your white teacher that you can’t go any further back than the 1860s because of slavery.) By the end of her presentation, even her teacher regrets the assignment.
“Three Fortunes on Alcestis as Told by the Fraud Baeliss Shudal” by Louis Inglis Hall
(Clarkesworld—February 2026; issue 223) Baeliss is the last descendent in an ancient line of diviners. Except she cannot see the future. The Duke Ernestid Arkady, ruler of the world, summons the soothsayer to tell his future and so she lies. That fortune takes her to a battlefield and then the aftermath of a war. Each time she has to tell a fortune, she lies. The subtext reasons for those lies are what make this story so powerful. The future isn’t immutable or inevitable. It is what we make of it.
“Uncontrolled Emotion” by Allison Mulder
(Radon Journal—February 2026; issue 12) “Everyone at the company started with a signed contract and a memory wipe.” Dermot is a safety censor for a company that scours surveillance footage to monitor communications. He marks things said and unsaid and files them. What happens when someone acquires too many infractions isn’t told to the reader, but it presumably isn’t good. The conversation he listens in on in the story triggers something from the life he had before his memory was wiped. It’s a gut-wrenching revelation, and his reaction to it is complex and depressing. Mulder hints at how the capitalistic and fascistic system forces people into awful situations but that we also always have some power to change things for the better. It may not be a lot, but there is always something we can do.
“What Haunts the Newbuild?” by Meagan Kane
(PseudoPod—February 6, 2026; 1015) If you haven’t noticed, another theme this month is stories with shocking endings. You think the author is going one direction and then they shift at the last minute into an entirely different one. In this piece, two houses, Good Bones and LUXURY VINYL FLOORING (aka Newbuild), start a competition to see who can get the most from their human occupants. The houses sip the lifeforce of humans in their care, kind of a twist on the haunted house story. But that ending! Wow. Makes you look at new construction McMansions a whole lot different.[end-mark]
The post Must Read Short Speculative Fiction: February 2026 appeared first on Reactor.
Shh! A Quiet Place 3 Cast Adds Katy O’Brian, Jason Clarke, and Jack O’Connell
Mar. 16th, 2026 05:51 pmShh! A Quiet Place 3 Cast Adds Katy O’Brian, Jason Clarke, and Jack O’Connell
Published on March 16, 2026
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Star Wars: Maul—Shadow Lord Trailer Knows Exactly How to Use “Duel of the Fates” and Sam Witwer
Mar. 16th, 2026 05:19 pmStar Wars: Maul—Shadow Lord Trailer Knows Exactly How to Use “Duel of the Fates” and Sam Witwer
Published on March 16, 2026
Screenshot: Lucasfilm
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Babylon 5 Rewatch: “The Paragon of Animals”
Mar. 16th, 2026 05:00 pmBabylon 5 Rewatch: “The Paragon of Animals”
Published on March 16, 2026
Credit: Warner Bros. Television
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How To Read Sixteen Books at Once (At All Times)
Mar. 16th, 2026 04:00 pmHow To Read Sixteen Books at Once (At All Times)
Published on March 16, 2026
Photo by Vrînceanu Iulia [via Unsplash]
Photo by Vrînceanu Iulia [via Unsplash]
Before I had an e-reader I used to read only one book at a time like a sensible person, and I’d read all of it straight through. I still do this sometimes. If I want to just carry on reading one particular thing I will do it, and that’s what I mean when I write about a book in my monthly reading list here and say “I couldn’t put it down.” But once I got an e-reader I started to read in a different way. I’ve written before about how it’s the library in my pocket. I began to cycle through different books, reading a chapter of each. It’s possible for me to be reading too many things and so not get to read anything often enough, and with some experimenting, and because of the way the old Kindle interface used to work, I settled into reading sixteen things at a time because that feels like the right amount. I like it because it means I can read long boring books that I want to read but don’t want to read exclusively because they’re a slog. I like the way I can have poetry and letter collections in my daily reading without having nothing but that. I like reading a variety of things.
So how do I do it? I have a “collection” on my Kindle called “currently reading.” Somebody here on Reactor suggested this when I was furious that they changed the interface so that whatever you’d recently opened was at the top and things couldn’t be put away tidily and not interrupting the two pages of eight books each that I was actually reading. (Like everyone, I frequently look things up in books I have already read.) In “currently reading” there are always sixteen books, no more or less. When I start describing this it sounds ridiculously complicated, but it isn’t at all in practice. I’m not suggesting anyone else do this, it’s just what I like to do.
I read two novels, one mainstream and one science fiction or fantasy, and whenever I finish one of them I begin another, so I am constantly reading two novels. I make sure the novels are different from each other not just in genre but in feel and often time as well, so that they go together well by being different. For instance, last summer I was reading the Wolf Hall books, and I wanted to read Eifelheim but it felt too close, so I waited to start it until I was done with the Mantel. I also read a non-fiction book that I am reading “fast”—that is, at the same speed I am reading the novels. The non-fiction one of these three can be anything, just something interesting that I want to read.
I cycle through such that I read a chapter of one of these three books, then I read three other things, and then I read a chapter of another of these three books. So my sixteen is actually more like three plus thirteen. I get through those three much faster than everything else because I read them more frequently. When I sit down to read, I’ll usually read a chapter of one of these three things, say about ten minutes, then three of the other things, cumulatively about ten minutes, and then a chapter of the next of the three things, about ten minutes, and so on, so that in an hour of reading I’ll have read three chapters and nine little chunks. Bear in mind that if at any time I don’t want to stop reading something I won’t—if I ever feel like I don’t want to close a book and go on to the next I’ll just keep reading that one.
Of the thirteen other things, two of them are always short stories, usually a single author collection and an anthology with stories from multiple authors. Generally one will be science fiction or fantasy, and the other will be something else, mystery, mainstream, something. Occasionally I just have one short story collection and one classic novel. Again, I make sure they’re also not too close in feel and time to the novels I’m reading, so when I was reading the Christie ghost stories collection I didn’t read any other mystery, when I was reading an anthology of retold fairytales I didn’t read any other fantasy of that kind. So, of my sixteen things, four are always fiction, and I feel this is about the right proportion.
I read two books of poetry, again generally one by a single author and one anthology with poems by multiple authors. I read two letter collections, making sure they’re never from the same century, again so they feel different. I love letter collections, they’re such an interesting form and such a great way to really get to know someone. They’re one of the hardest things to find, oddly, and something where I always want recommendations.
I’m always reading something translated from Greek or Latin. Right now, and for a long time past (and I predict for a long time to come) my classics slot is filled with Pliny’s Natural History, which is very long but has very short entries. It’s like reading a two-thousand-year-old encyclopedia, and it’s simultaneously very boring and weirdly fascinating. It’ll be going on forever listing animals, and then it’ll suddenly say “And the first one seen at Rome was brought into the Colosseum by Nero…” and for a moment it’ll be like an outtake from I, Claudius in the middle of the encyclopedia. I’m also always reading at least one thing translated from a language that isn’t Greek or Latin.
I always read one “relevant”—that is, research—history book, and one “irrelevant”—that is, just for fun—history book. Actually, these are the most slippery categories, because I’m usually reading something that’s relevant for the papal election, and sometimes also something that’s research for a future novel that I may or may not write. These can also be biography or memoir.
Then there’s a travel memoir, which is something I really enjoy reading. And I am reading the “Harvard Shelf” which gives me an element of randomness, or at least choices I didn’t make myself. If I hate whatever it is, I skip on to the next thing.
I am always reading one epic from another culture. Separately, I am always reading a primary source. This is just something historical that’s an actual primary source, written at the time, not something written about history, later. It can be anything. At the moment it’s the Memoirs of Philip de Commines, Containing the Histories of Louis XI and Charles VIII of France, which is fascinating and which I feel like nobody else has read at all. (Which is one reason why reading primary sources is useful.) You can read a whole lot of secondary sources about a period and they pull things together and have perspective and see things, but sometimes they get into a loop where they’re all using the same primary sources, and indeed using the same translated bits of them, and there will be all kinds of other sources they don’t notice. So I wish I’d read Commines before I wrote Lent but oh well, and I am reading it now.
I also read something that is criticism or reviews or book history. Right now, I’m reading Arthur Ransome’s History of Story-Telling and before that I was reading the Robert Ebert collection for a long time.
And those of you who can count will see that this is eighteen categories! But it’s always sixteen books, because some categories overlap. The non-fiction book I am reading “fast” is also always in another category. And things in translation can overlap with any other category—they can be letters or poetry or short stories or novels or primary sources or epics. (Having said that, I’m often reading more than one translated thing, but that’s just good. The idea is to make sure I am reading at least one.) Epics are often poetry, and in translation, and so when I was reading the Ramayana it was in three categories at once.
When it works, this makes a lovely reading symphony where the different books are like different instruments coming together in contrast and harmony; when it doesn’t work it can be jarring, but that doesn’t happen all that much. What can happen is that I put in too many things in the category of “need to slog through it” and not enough that’s fun, and then I need to adjust. If I’m not enjoying something, anything, and if I don’t have to read it—if I’m not reading it specifically for research—I’ll stop reading. I don’t skim, as I’ve mentioned before. But as long as the overall mix is fun, then reading a few pages of something that’s objectively deadly dull is OK. I mentioned that all through the long time I was reading the Browning-Barrett correspondence I smiled every single time I saw the title in my list. If there’s something where I feel like I’m slogging through it (Pliny) but getting a weird kind of enjoyment out of it that’s fine, but if there’s something where I sigh every time I see it then I toss it back and read something else. I recently gave up on The Letters of St Ambrose because I wasn’t having fun.
As for how I select things to read, it’s the usual combination of leaping on new books from writers I like, recommendations from people (including people here), algorithms telling me about things, and completely fortuitous finds, with a tiny bit of publishers trying to get me to blurb things. (I almost never get anything I want from this last method, but I will sometimes try the book if it sounds promising. And occasionally, just occasionally, it will be great and I will be happy.) So I have a huge (196) queue of books sitting on my Kindle waiting to be read, and I have other books I know I want to re-read in the fairly near future. Whenever I finish a book, I find a book in that queue that’s in the right category and that feels like it fits with the rest of everything, and I slot it in. Another advantage of this method is that I rarely have the empty feeling of finishing a book and needing to find something else. I may have finished a book, but I still have fifteen other books on the go! If I finish something that’s in multiple categories and I replace it with something that doesn’t fill all of them, then a category will be unfilled for a little while until I finish something else. If I’m reading some relevant or irrelevant history book, or a travel book, and it’s unexpectedly terrific, it gets promoted into the “fast” slot—sometimes with the current fast book going back down into the slow, and sometimes when I finish the current fast book.
That’s it, really… it’s all perfectly simple.[end-mark]
The post How To Read Sixteen Books at Once (At All Times) appeared first on Reactor.
A Feline Haunting: The Quiet Horror of The Cat
Mar. 16th, 2026 03:30 pmA Feline Haunting: The Quiet Horror of The Cat
Published on March 16, 2026
Credit: Next Entertainment World
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Here Are the Finalists for the 2025 Nebula Awards
Mar. 16th, 2026 03:14 pmHere Are the Finalists for the 2025 Nebula Awards
Published on March 16, 2026
Photo: Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association
Photo: Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association
The finalists for the 61st Annual Nebula Awards—which recognize work published in 2025—were announced last night. The Nebula Awards are voted on by members of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).
This year’s categories include the first-ever Nebulas for Best Poem and Best Comic. As the SFWA website explains, “Like the Ray Bradbury Award for Outstanding Dramatic Presentation and Game Writing Award, these new awards celebrate the writers at the heart of productions that also involve editors, artists, publishers, producers, and a wealth of other team members who make the magic happen.”
The winners of this year’s awards will be announced on June 6th during the Nebula Conference, which takes place in Chicago.
Congratulations to all the finalists!
Best Novel
- When We Were Real by Daryl Gregory (Saga)
- The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones (Saga; Titan UK)
- Katabasis by R.F. Kuang (Harper Voyager US; Harper Voyager UK)
- Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor (Morrow; Gollancz)
- The Incandescent by Emily Tesh (Tor; Orbit UK)
- Sour Cherry by Natalia Theodoridou (Tin House; Wildfire)
- Wearing the Lion by John Wiswell (DAW; Arcadia)
Best Novella
- Disgraced Return of the Kap’s Needle by Renan Bernardo (Dark Matter INK)
- The River Has Roots by Amal El-Mohtar (Tordotcom; Arcadia)
- The Death of Mountains by Jordan Kurella (Lethe)
- Automatic Noodle by Annalee Newitz (Tordotcom)
- But Not Too Bold by Hache Pueyo (Tordotcom)
- “Descent” by Wole Talabi (Clarkesworld 5/25)
Best Novelette
- “Our Echoes Drifting Through the Marsh” by Marie Croke (Beneath Ceaseless Skies 1/9/25)
- “Uncertain Sons” by Thomas Ha (Uncertain Sons and Other Stories, Undertow)
- “We Begin Where Infinity Ends” by Somto Ihezue (Clarkesworld 2/25)
- “The Name Ziya” by Wen-Yi Lee (Reactor)
- “Never Eaten Vegetables” by H.H. Pak (Clarkesworld 1/25)
- “The Life and Times of Alavira the Great as Written by Titos Pavlou and Reviewed by Two Lifelong Friends” by Eugenia Triantafyllou (Uncanny 3-4/25)
Best Short Story
- “Through the Machine” by P.A. Cornell (Lightspeed 5/25)
- “Six People to Revise You” by J.R. Dawson (Uncanny 1-2/25)
- “In My Country” by Thomas Ha (Clarkesworld 4/25)
- “The Tawlish Island Songbook of the Dead” by E.M. Linden (PodCastle 2/18/25)
- “Because I Held His Name Like a Key” by Aimee Ogden (Strange Horizons 6/16/25)
- “Laser Eyes Ain’t Everything” by Effie Seiberg (Diabolical Plots 5/25)
Andre Norton Nebula Award for Middle Grade and Young Adult Fiction
- The Tower by David Anaxagoras (Recorded Books)
- Gemini Rising by Jonathan Brazee (Semper Fi)
- Wishing Well, Wishing Well by Jubilee Cho (Atthis Arts)
- Sunrise on the Reaping by Suzanne Collins (Scholastic)
- Into the Wild Magic by Michelle Knudsen (Candlewick)
- Goblin Girl by K.A. Mielke (self-published)
Best Game Writing
- Spire, Surge, and Sea by Stewart C. Baker (Choice of Games)
- Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 by Guillaume Broche, & Jennifer Svedberg-Yen (Kepler Interactive; developer: Sandfall Interactive, Sandfall S.A.S.)
- Hollow Knight: Silksong by Ari Gibson & William Pelen (Team Cherry)*
- Dispatch by Ashley Jeffalone, Suzee Matson, Chris Rebbert, Chad Rhiness, & Pierre Shorette (AdHoc Studios)
- Hades II by Greg Kasavin (Supergiant Games)
- Blue Prince by Tonda Ros (Raw Fury; developer: Dogubomb)
The Ray Bradbury Nebula Award for Outstanding Dramatic Presentation
- KPop Demon Hunters by Danya Jimenez, Maggie Kang, & Hannah McMechan (Netflix)*
- Sinners by Ryan Coogler (Warner Bros. Pictures)*
- Severance: “Chikhai Bardo” by Dan Erickson & Mark Friedman (Apple TV+)*
- Pluribus: Season One by Vince Gilligan (Apple TV+)*
- Superman by James Gunn (Warner Bros Pictures)*
- Murderbot: Season One by Chris Weitz (Apple TV+)*
Best Comic
- Second Shift by Kit Anderson (Avery Hill)
- Carmilla Volume 3: The Eternal by Amy Chu (Berger)
- Helen of Wyndhorn by Tom King (Dark Horse)
- Fishflies by Jeff Lemire (Image)
- Mary Shelley’s School for Monsters: The Killing Stone by Jessica Maison (Wicked Tree)
- Strange Bedfellows by Ariel Slamet Ries (HarperAlley)
- The Flip Side by Jason Walz (Rocky Pond)
- The Stoneshore Register by G. Willow Wilson (Berger)
Best Poem
- “To Be the Change” by Nico Martinez Nocito (Strange Horizons 3/10/25)
- “Though You Always Are” by Linda D. Addison & Jamal Hodge (Everything Endless)
- “They Said Robots Are” by Casey Aimer (Penumbric 6/25)
- “The World To Come” by Jennifer Hudak (Strange Horizons 12/22/25)
- “The Mourning Robot” by Angela Liu (Uncanny 9-10/25)
- “Care for Lightning” by Mari Ness (Uncanny 1-2/25)
*Provisional nomination; awaiting acceptance and response on LLM-use.[end-mark]
The post Here Are the Finalists for the 2025 Nebula Awards appeared first on Reactor.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer Revival is Dead at Hulu, But Vampires Never Die
Mar. 16th, 2026 02:13 pmBuffy the Vampire Slayer Revival is Dead at Hulu, But Vampires Never Die
Published on March 16, 2026
Screenshot: 20th Century Fox
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Five Science Fiction Stories Set Underwater
Mar. 16th, 2026 02:00 pmFive Science Fiction Stories Set Underwater
Published on March 16, 2026
A Darkling Sea cover art by Thom Tenery
A Darkling Sea cover art by Thom Tenery
I’m a sucker for a story with an underwater setting, regardless of whether the genre is horror (for which I’ve already offered some recommendations!), fantasy, or science fiction. In the sci-fi category, Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea is the titan of the deep, and while I’m a huge fan of that book, it’s probably the first title that most people think of when they hear “underwater science fiction.” Here are five other works of aquatic sci-fi to explore—some plunging to the depths of Earth’s oceans and others set in the stranger seas of far-off planets.
“Surface Tension” by James Blish (1952)

The setting of “Surface Tension” isn’t actually an ocean, a sea, or even a lake—it’s a puddle. The story starts with a spaceship having crash-landed on a distant planet called Hydrot. The ship is just one of many sent from Earth in an attempt to colonize the galaxy, but while Hydrot is fairly Earth-like, it can’t support any life as large as humans. The crew is doomed to die, but they do have the technology to mold subsequent generations to the alien environment.
The bulk of the story follows a group of tiny aquatically-adapted humans as they strive to explore the world beyond their home puddle. To them, the puddle is their whole world, but human curiosity is a trait that has been retained, and so they put their minds together in an attempt to break the surface tension of the water and see what lies beyond.
Sphere by Michael Crichton (1987)

Sphere kicks off with the discovery of a massive spaceship at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. How long it’s been there and where it came from are mysteries that can only be solved by putting boots on the ground… or rather, fins in the water. A team of scientists and U.S. Navy officers are sent down to live in an underwater habitat close to the spaceship so that they can study and explore the vessel up close.
While Jurassic Park (1990) remains my favorite Crichton book, Sphere is probably in second place. The intriguing premise is backed up by a thrilling and twisty plot that left me not wanting to come up for air. It’s the kind of book that reads like a movie. Crichton also excels at crafting a claustrophobic and creepy environment at the bottom of the ocean, expertly ratcheting up the tension as the pages fly by.
Starfish by Peter Watts (1999)

Another sci-fi story set under the waves of the Pacific Ocean is Starfish, which largely takes places around the Juan de Fuca Ridge. The heat generated by underwater geothermal vents at the bottom of various oceans is being used as an energy source and small crews of people—known as Rifters—are needed to maintain the power stations.
Such a job requires extensive physical modifications to allow the human body to handle the deep-sea environment, but bio-mechanical implants aren’t all that it takes to be a Rifter. Only those who are already used to stress and strife, primarily abusers and the abused, are deemed to have the necessary temperament—and even then, some people crack under the pressure.
Starfish is a dark story—both in terms of setting and psychology. Being thousands of feet below sea level isn’t a normal place for humans to exist, and the plot explores how such a dangerous and isolated environment could impact the human mind.
A Darkling Sea by James L. Cambias (2014)

A Darkling Sea takes Star Trek’s Prime Directive—that is, not interfering with the development of alien civilizations—and flushes it out to sea.
The story is set on Ilmatar, an ocean planet covered in a layer of ice that is thousands of feet thick. Humanity has cored through this ice and set up a station on the ocean floor in order to study a native species that shows signs of higher intelligence. The scientists would love to make contact, but they’ve been forbidden by another alien race, the Sholen, who fear that the humans would mess with the Ilmatarans’ natural development. But that all goes out of the window when arrogant media star Henri Kerlerec sneakily dons a stealth-suit to view the Ilmatarans up close, and then ends up being dissected.
Told via POVs from all three species, A Darkling Sea explores the utter mess that unfolds when they come into conflict—be that intentional or not. Even though most characters are trying their best, misunderstandings lead to problems that grow progressively more serious as the story develops.
“Freediver” by Isabel J. Kim (2025)

Technically, “Freediver” is set on Earth, but it’s not Earth as we know it. All of the planet’s oceans are only a few hundred feet deep, after which there is a meniscus-like portal that leads to a slice of space forty-five billion light years away. Telecommunication cables that connect the continents have been hung in this section of space and although that means they’re safe from the elements on Earth, they are occasionally damaged by space debris. Glasser and Crane are a two-man team whose job it is to repair the cables, with the aid of a subship that is capable of short dives beneath the waves.
The sci-fi concept of “Freediver” may feel otherworldly, but the character work is firmly grounded. Through Glasser and Crane, Isabel J. Kim explores themes of loneliness and connection, as well as the psychology behind why people do dangerous jobs—which in this story involves diving to the bottom of the ocean and then space-walking in the void between stars.
I’ve been thinking that underwater settings in sci-fi stories feel a bit underrepresented in my reading, but maybe I just need to put more effort into seeking these narratives out. To help me along my way, I’d love to hear your recommendations in the comments below, be they short stories or full-length books![end-mark]
The post Five Science Fiction Stories Set Underwater appeared first on Reactor.
This is the yearly reminder
Mar. 15th, 2026 10:07 pmToday is the Ides, okay, and yesterday was pridie Ides, so far so good, and the day before that was three days before the Ides, because the Romans a. counted backwards and b. did this weird inclusive counting, so Friday, Saturday, Ides = three days.
(Which is also how Good Friday is three days before the Resurrection, when it blatantly isn't.)
( Read more... )
Goblin Emperor: Four Sisters by Akallabeth
Mar. 15th, 2026 07:57 pmPairings/Characters: Ursu Perenched, Holitho Sevraseched, Nadeian Vizhenka, Shaleän Sevraseched
Rating: Gen
Length: 9k
Creator Links:
Theme: siblings, minor characters, book fandoms, small fandoms, family, gen, female characters
Summary: Short scenes from the lives of four (half-)sisters, the unacknowledged daughters of the Great Avar.
Canon-compliant, to the best of my knowledge and ability.
Reccer's Notes: We only get a sentence in canon about each of these four sisters, but the details we get are really interesting. This is one of the best fics exploring the scant details we get.
Fanwork Links: Four Sisters

