#AudioBookReview: Six People to Revise You by J.R. Dawson

#AudioBookReview: Six People to Revise You by J.R. Dawson“Six People to Revise You” by J.R. Dawson in Uncanny Magazine, Issue 62, January/February 2025 by J. R. Dawson
Narrator: Erika Ensign
Format: ebook, podcast
Source: supplied by publisher via Hugo Packet
Formats available: magazine, podcast
Genres: science fiction, short stories
Series: Uncanny Magazine Issue 62 January/February 2025
Pages: 19
Length: 51 minutes
Published by Uncanny Magazine on January 7, 2025
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKobo
Goodreads

The January/February 2025 issue of Hugo Award-winning Uncanny Magazine.

Featuring new fiction by Scott Lynch, J.R. Dawson, Tia Tashiro, Tade Thompson, Mary Robinette Kowal, Rati Mehrotra, and AnaMaria Curtis. Essays by Nicholas Whyte, Ai Jiang, A.T. Greenblatt, and Suzanne Walker, poetry by Kaliee Pedersen, Mari Ness, Shankar Narayan, and E. N. Díaz, interviews with Scott Lynch and Rati Mehotra by Caroline M. Yoachim, a cover by Maxine Vee, and an editorial by Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas.

Uncanny Magazine is a bimonthly science fiction and fantasy magazine first published in November 2014. Edited by 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2022, 2023 Hugo award winners for best semiprozine, and 2018 Hugo award winners for Best Editor, Short Form, Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas, Betsy Aoki, and Monte Lin, each issue of Uncanny includes new stories, poetry, articles, and interviews.

My Review:

Why would you ask a whole bunch of other people, most of whom don’t know you well, or at least don’t know you well NOW, for their input into everything about yourself that you should change? Another question, why would the process to change someone start with asking people who are, mostly, at best, casual acquaintances or frenemies, how a person they may not like should change.

What does that say about the society that does this? And why would a person submit themselves to it?

Those are just some of the VERY thorny questions being asked in “Six People to Revise You”, the second in this series of Hugo nominated short works reviews.

You’ll notice that I’m not asking why the person at the center of this story – or any person in this story or anywhere else – would submit themselves to such a process AT ALL. Because the answer to that question seems both obvious and rooted in human nature in general.

No one needs an SF story to tell them that they might be better off, or more successful, or happier, or fit into their society better, or be more comfortable, or WHATEVER – if they just changed a few important AND intrinsic things about themselves.

Our families, our friends, society at large and the whole entire internet press upon us every single day that our lives could be “better” for some very nebulous definitions of better if we just “got with the program”, whatever that might be.

So the story isn’t about that. It also isn’t about the mechanics of how this gets done. It sounds like brainwashing or programming or deprogramming or handwavium or all of the above. The methods don’t matter in this context.

What matters is the result. The way that the process of “revision” seems to blunt the personality. Smooth down all the rough edges. Take away individuality. And possibly – and insidiously – freedom of choice through self-censorship. In the way the process of “revision” takes away individual choice through self-erasure, it reminds me a LOT of the short story “Thickly” by Dorothy de Kok in Writers of the Future 42. The results are very similar even though the process is different.

From one perspective, this is a story about someone (specifically in this case the unnamed first-person narrator) asking a whole lot of people she only sorta/kinda knows which parts of herself she should change to become a happier and more successful person. The answers are mostly self-serving on the part of the people being asked, and are frequently unkind at best. (That the system itself is set up this way is extremely weird – at best.)

But this isn’t a story about what she SHOULD do. (Personally, I think externally applied SHOULDs are the devil, and that’s absolutely true here.) The story isn’t about listening to what other people think even though it is about just how insidious those external voices are.

Instead, it’s a journey of self-discovery. Because the ultimate discovery isn’t about who she should be, it’s about the good and the joy she’s brought into the world by being the person she already is. A perspective that’s delivered by one lone voice among the six people who are supposed to be “fixing” her future course who knows her and cares about her as the person she is.

Escape Rating B: Like my previous Hugo Review of “The Girl That My Mother Is Leaving Me For”, the story, as a story, has more than a few holes and weirdnesses built in. In this case, the gigantic hole is that the reader has no idea what the process of revision really is, how it came to be, what people think it’s intended to do and what it actually does.

We can infer a lot from what we have, but it still feels like handwavium on the technical side and smoke and mirrors on the results side. Or something like that.

And it could be that’s exactly what’s intended, that the reader is supposed to put their own interpretation into the process and its results. It feels like the actual intention of “revision” is to program social outliers into behavior society finds more “acceptable” – all of which needs to be in scare quotes. Because those types of purposes lead to some terrible “greater good” scenarios.

That the narrator doesn’t do it after all, that they realize that how they are is how they’re meant to be and that they’re happy as they are as much as any human is happy as they are allows the story to lead on a hopeful and dare I say it, happy, note. But the questions the story asks are troubling – especially because we are all being programmed, every day, by the masses of information and misinformation and high decibel outrage and meaningless consumerism we’re flooded with every single day.

#AudioBookReview: Marginalia by Mary Robinette Kowal

#AudioBookReview: Marginalia by Mary Robinette Kowal“Marginalia” by Mary Robinette Kowal in Uncanny Magazine, Issue 56, January/February 2024 by Mary Robinette Kowal
Narrator: Erika Ensign
Format: ebook, podcast
Source: podcast, supplied by publisher via Hugo Packet
Formats available: magazine, podcast
Genres: fantasy, short stories
Series: Uncanny Magazine Issue 56 January/February 2024
Pages: 25
Length: 40 minutes
Published by Uncanny Magazine on January 2, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKobo
Goodreads

The January/February 2024 issue of Hugo Award-winning Uncanny Magazine.

Featuring new fiction by Mary Robinette Kowal, Jordan Taylor, Jana Bianchi, Natalia Theodoridou, Ana Hurtado, Cheri Kamei, and Angela Liu. Essays by John Scalzi, Alex Jennings, Cecilia Tan, and Amanda Wakaruk and Olav Rokne, poetry by Ali Trota, Ai Jiang, C.S.E. Cooney, and Sodïq Oyèkànmí, interviews with Jordan Taylor and Natalia Theodoridou by Caroline M. Yoachim, a cover by Galen Dara, and an editorial by Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas.

Uncanny Magazine is a bimonthly science fiction and fantasy magazine first published in November 2014. Edited by 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2022, 2023 Hugo Award winners for best semiprozine, and 2018 Hugo Award winners for Best Editor, Short Form, Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas, and Monte Lin, each issue of Uncanny includes new stories, poetry, articles, and interviews.

My Review:

This entry in my Hugo Award nominee readings moves the dial from the novelettes to the short stories. I picked this one to go first in that category because the author is one that I’ve certainly enjoyed in longer forms, notably her Lady Astronaut series and The Spare Man.

Having finished this story, I have a feeling that it made the Hugo Ballot because I’m not alone in that name recognition and affection for her longer works. Because this short just didn’t gel, particularly in comparison to the novelette nominees.

Yes, I know they’re not the same thing, and the novelettes have a bit more room to work, but still, with the novelette nominees even the ones that didn’t work as well FOR ME still had very interesting things to say and/or said those things in interesting ways.

“Marginalia” is, well, the most apropos title this story could have, because that’s exactly what the story feels like – marginalia. Something that got scribbled around the edges of something bigger or more important. It’s also a bit of an academic in-joke as well as a potential explanation for the absolutely stellar giant snail monsters, but from this perspective, it captures the nature of the story a bit too well and not in a good way.

It may be that this is trying to do too many things in a very small number of pages, of which a few too many are taken up by an imperious cat (and I’m saying that in spite of how much I love cats in general and this one in particular), and not nearly enough glitter from the slime left behind by the giant snail monsters.

Those giant snails are the best part.

Overall, this is very much a typical medieval fantasy-type setting, where the main characters are Margery, a young woman caring for her dying mother, her younger brother Hugh, dreaming of adventure beyond their little farm, and the nobleman Lord Strange doing his best to keep his lands and people safe from the rampaging giant snails. And, of course, the snails doing the rampaging.

The boy disobeys his sister, keeps the nobleman safe from the snails – and the sister does the heroic thing and saves not just the day but all the lands ravaged by the snails. Not through might, but through ingenuity.

The ending falls a bit flat because it doesn’t end satisfactorily. The boy gets his wish, the nobleman realizes he knows nothing about how the people in his demesne really live, the mother dies to set her children free and Margery is left standing on the horns of a dilemma, knowing that her future has the possibility of being brighter than her past and completely uncertain which way to step to make it so.

Escape Rating C: “Marginalia” feels like a story that’s a bit of a filler. Putting it another way, the story lives up to, or more appropriately down to, its title, as marginalia are, according to Wikipedia, “marks made in the margins of a book or other document.” The bits around the outside edges of something else. Whether that something else was a bigger story, or in this case whether that something else should have been pitched at a younger audience, either way this story is fun enough for its length – or its length in audio, but no more than that.

I did listen to the podcast, I enjoyed Erika Ensign’s reading and it was the perfect length for a short drive, but there’s just not a lot of there, well, there. The giant snails were the best part and they’re just doing what their nature intended.

Meanwhile, I’m left hoping that the rest of the short story nominees rise above this one.

#AudioBookReview: Signs of Life by Sarah Pinsker

#AudioBookReview: Signs of Life by Sarah Pinsker"Signs of Life" by Sarah Pinsker in Uncanny Magazine Issue 59: July/August 2024 by Sarah Pinsker
Narrator: Erika Ensign
Format: ebook, podcast
Source: podcast, supplied by publisher via Hugo Packet
Formats available: magazine, podcast
Genres: magical realism, short stories
Series: Uncanny Magazine Issue 58
Pages: 35
Length: 1 hour
Published by Uncanny Magazine on July 2, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKobo
Goodreads

The July/August 2024 issue of Hugo Award-winning Uncanny Magazine.

Featuring new fiction by Sarah Pinsker, Greg van Eekhout, Sunwoo Jeong, John Chu, AnaMaria Curtis, Eleanna Castroianni, and Megan Chee. Essays by John Scalzi, Marissa Lingen, Del Sandeen, and Natania Barron, poetry by Terese Mason Pierre, Natasha King, Roshani Chokshi, and Abdulkareem Abdulkareem, interviews with Greg van Eekhout and AnaMaria Curtis by Caroline M. Yoachim, a cover by Broci, and an editorial by Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas.

Uncanny Magazine is a bimonthly science fiction and fantasy magazine first published in November 2014. Edited by 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2022, 2023 Hugo award winners for best semiprozine, and 2018 Hugo award winners for Best Editor, Short Form, Lynne M. Thomas and Michael Damian Thomas, and Monte Lin, each issue of Uncanny includes new stories, poetry, articles, and interviews.

My Review:

I’m attempting to be a bit – just a bit – more deliberate in my Hugo reading this year, so I’ll be reviewing all of the Best Novelette nominees before moving on to the Best Short Story nominees. With one exception for Lake of Souls by Ann Leckie because I reviewed that year for Library Journal as one of the two not previously published stories in the author’s collection of the same title.

The story here in “Signs of Life” is more speculative fiction than either SF or fantasy – and I spent most of my listen/read of it wondering exactly when the spec fic element was going to come in, because if I hadn’t known there had to be one for most of the story I wouldn’t have guessed that a specifically speculative element was coming.

For most of its length, this is a story about sisters reconnecting after spending their entire adult lives on the outs with each other. The story is told from the perspective of Veronica, the sister who left – although she’s not the most reliable narrator.

Not because she lies to the reader, but because her desire to heal the rift with her sister Violet after FOUR DECADES of estrangement is at war with her need not to touch that third rail in her head about how it came about in the first place. As Veronica looks back, the cause of their rift is unforgivable and all her own fault. A fault she feels the need to apologize for before that rift can be healed.

And she doesn’t really want to bring it up, out of fear that raising those old ghosts will widen the rift instead of being a prelude to healing it.

It turns out that this story – as much as it’s about two sisters reconnecting after a lifetime of being apart – isn’t so much about the rift or even the sisters as it is about LONELINESS and their very different responses to it. And that’s where the speculative aspects of the story come in.

It’s a huge spoiler and more than a bit of a wow at the end. I’ll leave it for you to discover just how much of a wow that wow is for yourself.

Escape Rating B: For about half of the length of this story, I was wondering when it was going to get to the point. Or at least to the point of what made it eligible for the Hugos in the first place. It’s kind of appropriate that this story appeared in Uncanny Magazine, because that’s the right word for it, uncanny.

If I had to assign a genre to it – and I sorta/kinda do – I’d call this one “magical realism”. Except the words should be switched around, because it’s very much grounded in the real until that halfway point when we start to get hints of the magic behind it all.

At that halfway point I did get a pretty big hint about what the magical part of the story was – I just didn’t think that element went nearly as far as it turned out that it did.

I started this one from the podcast, as I do whenever possible with short works like this one. The reading by Erika Ensign was well done, and she did a particularly good job of letting the listener into Veronica’s head. I always love a good first-person perspective in audio when the narrator’s voice is a good match for the head they are in, and this one was. The reader made it easy to feel all of Veronica’s very mixed emotions along with the mental ellipses where her reminiscences took her places that she just didn’t want to go.

In the end, I had a surprisingly similar reaction to “Signs of Life” that I did to this author’s 2024 nominated novelette, “One Man’s Treasure”, but like the reference to “magical realism” above, just a bit backwards. In that previous story, I LOVED the story but didn’t think it stuck the dismount. It didn’t feel like the story got the closure it needed.

This time around, the ending was a WOW of a close. It ended with a bang and it was just the right bang. It did a pretty good job of making the story that led up to it worth the read. At the same time, I was really glad this was a short work, because the first half meandered in a whole lot of places that just didn’t feel speculative or magical at all. A longer story would have meant more of that meandering and that’s not what I was looking for.

I’m planning to review one story a week, mostly, so I’ll be back next week with the story I’m most looking forward to even if there isn’t a podcast. It’s “The Four Sisters Overlooking the Sea” by last year’s Best Novelette WINNER, Naomi Kritzer.