A vampire and an alien walk into a bar 🧛👽💀
One makes a powerful woman weak, the other makes a wounded woman strong.
*Pretend I posted a god-awful May meme*
I’ll just get right to it: I’ve been working on a new project (or a #WIP, as Twitter writers post) and I got one of my favorite artists to do a rendition of the main character.
The character’s name is Sebastián Quiles Pagán, and he’s a necromancer in the Caribbean. I’ve been following the artist Maku on Instagram for a while and he opened for commissions a few weeks ago so I had to jump at the chance. Sebas turned out exactly as he looks in my head.
While Elior’s story was about change, Sebas’ is about acceptance. I’m pretty excited about it because it gives the reader a real sense of what it was like to live in Puerto Rico at the turn of the century. I’m honestly so pumped about this story. Hijinks ensue, of course. Interesting things happen, and characters have arcs. As my developmental editor said, it is an “LGBTQIA, New Adult, Fantasy” story, so that being said …
If you would like to be a part of a small group of readers (about 3-5) who will get an advance of my next project and provide feedback for incorporation, please let me know by adding your email here.
In this issue we discuss:
Deborah Harkness’ “A Discovery of Witches”
Gabrielle S. Prendergast’s “Zero Repeat Forever”
Short story by P. Djèlí Clark from Tor.com
Resource: If you’ve ever written a query letter (fancy word for an email message to agents/publishers asking for representation/publishing) here are some dos and don’ts from Writer’s Digest.
A Discovery of (Subservient) Witches, sigh
Beautiful, informed, and smart writing with an interesting premise. But Deborah Harkness’ “A Discovery of Witches” lost me when the main character, ostensibly written to be the most powerful, becomes immediately subservient to the male lead.
In Harkness’ world, there are witches, vampires, and daemons. They must not reveal themselves to humans and they must not copulate across races. Guess what happens? Yup, the witch falls for the vampire.
If you are into romance novels with a vast knowledge of wine, this is the book for you. Harkness is a great writer whose intellectual prowess comes through on every page. As you read it, you know Harkness knows what she's talking about whether it's history, wine, or even yoga. It's a delight to read and it makes the reader comfortable to know that you can rely on the author to be meticulous in the research.
My gripe does not come from the writing or the plot, it comes from the portrayal of Dr. Diana Bishop (the witch) - and this is just my observation. To set up such a strong female character, with a support system made up of two other women, only to have her immediately (and illogically) fall in love with Matthew Clairmont made no sense to me. The story has glimmers of feminism only to be extinguished by Diana's acquiescence. There were moments as I was reading where I thought Matthew would grow and change only to notice that Diana was the one who became more subservient.
Overall, a great read for those who enjoy fantasy romance.
Should I skip it? Yes.
Beauty and the Beast, if Belle had anger issues and the beast was a mute alien
I must admit I came to “Zero Repeat Forever” with high expectations ... and by that I mean I saw a girl on TikTok say it was the best book she’s ever read in terms of prose. It was also my first time reading Sci-Fi — I usually stick to fantasy. It did not disappoint.
While I wouldn’t go as far as claiming it is the best prose (that title goes to Erin Morgenstern’s “The Night Circus” and “Starless Sea”), it’s a very engaging read with incredible character definition. They all feel distinct and you can definitely infer how each of them is being traumatized by their new normal.
We follow Raven in a first-person narrative after Earth has been invaded by the Nahx. They seem determined to eliminate the human population, yadda yadda, what one can expect from Sci-Fi. But, we also get the perspective of Eighth. A defective Nahx who’s struggling with his mission. Both Raven and Nahx suffer loss throughout the book and when they a forced into the same space an unlikely relationship forms. Very Beauty and the Beast. Unlike B&B, however, Zero Repeat Forever doesn’t shy away from the abuse and trauma that type of relationship can generate, and how confusing it is for both parties.
It is a great, fun read that hits you with themes of abandonment, maltreatment, and resilience without you noticing. As a non-Sci-Fi reader, I can confidently say this is the one to get into the genre.
Should I skip it? Not at all. It was a very enjoyable read and I need someone to talk to about it.
Storytime 📚: The Angel of Khan el-Khalili
If you want to find the Angel of Khan el-Khalili, you have to make your way to the market at night. Not when the sun goes down, and Cairo’s masses spill out into the opening shops, where soot-smudged factory workers and well-groomed ministerial clerks mingle at open-air coffeehouses to debate local politics. Not even after the first stars have appeared and, beneath the glare of gaslight, hawkers practice their best chat-up lines to seduce idle wanderers to their stalls—where everything from counterfeit medieval antiques to driveshafts for automated wheel carriages are up for sale. No, to find the Angel of Khan el-Khalili means going to the market late at night, when most of the city have long retired to their beds, leaving the souk to the curious, the adventurous, and the desperate—like you.
For Aisha, you remind yourself. This is for Aisha.
You pass beneath one of the many stone arches that line the night bazaar, and turn down the street of the chai-sellers, where young, strapping men shoulder high-pressure steam urns and pour fragrant tea for their patrons into delicate porcelain cups. You pass through the shop of a gas lamp merchant, whose oval glass lanterns swirl with luminous alchemical vapors that cause them to float about like colorful airborne jellyfish. Exit through the back, and you come out at a rounded yellow door divided into half-moons: the shop of the boiler eunuch mender. He is an unusually tall man, with thickset shoulders that seem unsuited to the gangly body you imagine lies beneath his sky-blue jellabiya. By his dark skin and the carpet of white whiskers creeping along his face, you guess he’s Soudanese. Or perhaps simply Nubian. You can’t tell.
He ignores your first words of greeting as you stand at the threshold of his shop, watching him use a hammer to beat a dented breastplate into shape. Perhaps it’s because of who he thinks you are—a woman out alone at this time of night, unaccompanied by neither a husband or relative. If he could see behind your headscarf and white cotton veil, to the face of a girl barely fifteen, he would know it is worse than that. So, you stand up straighter, fighting the urge to draw the light black wrap more firmly about you or smooth down your green fringed dress, and speak with the authority you’ve seen used by some of the other girls at the dress factory. You think of your friend Zehra, the Turkish girl who’s always going on about the exploitation of the masses and how we need to turn the tables on “the bosses.”
Something in your tone catches his attention. Or maybe he’s simply resting his hands. But the boiler eunuch mender finally stops his work long enough to fix you appraisingly with one eye—the other is hidden behind a silver tubular lens.
“Looking for a boilerplate eunuch?” he asks in a deep baritone that rumbles up from his chest. From the south or no, the accent is pure Cairene. “We have many to choose from, each no worse for the wear. In these modern times, every home in Cairo should enjoy the convenience of a boilerplate eunuch.” His arms gesture about the room, where faceless metal automatons shaped in the likeness of men stand motionless, reminiscent of soldiers awaiting inspection—or corpses arrayed in their tomb. They are of decent quality, even if refurbished from older models and mismatched parts. But that’s not why you’ve come.
“I’m here to see the Lady of the House, uncle,” you say instead.
The boiler eunuch mender continues to stare at you in that appraising way. Sifting and weighing. “What is your name, daughter?” he asks at last.
Beneath your veil, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. So, you hadn’t fooled him, then. You think of lying, but that measuring stare says he will see it right away. Besides, Aisha often warned that lying was one of the greater sins.
“Aliaa,” you answer, careful not to give your full name. Cairo is a big city, but a family name could tell him everything he needs to know about you. His white eyebrows furrow at your evasion, but he only says: “The Lady of the House exacts a price. You are prepared to pay it?”
You respond with a stiff nod.
More weighing. More sifting. Finally, he stands up from his stool. Did you think this man was unusually tall? No, he is freakishly so, with arms that dangle to his thighs! He leads you past his silent creations to a door at the back of his shop. It is made of weathered brown wood, like the ones you’ve seen in photos adorning temples in Luxor. You’ve dreamt of taking a tram line or airship to visit them one day, and seeing if they whisper with the voices of long-dead infidels, as many say. He produces a golden key from a leather apron at his waist, and fits it into a rectangular slot, pulling the door open. There are a set of stairs that lead downward, illuminated by glowing lamps along the walls.
Continue reading here and consider buying it.
Before you go …
This is *gestures widely* our newsletter. If you wrote a short story and would like for it to be featured, please email me at joshuanriverajimenez@gmail.com to be considered.
I only ask that it’s compelling fiction. Big plus if it includes POC and/or LGBTQ characters or issues. I request no exclusivity and it doesn’t have to be recent.