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Shimmer 2016: The Collected Stories
Our 2016 volume collects the stories from Shimmer Magazine's 2016 year. 26 speculative fiction stories that defy conventions, from some of the hottest authors working today.
313 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 19, 2016
About the author
E. Catherine Tobler
216 books126 followersE. Catherine Tobler has written an awful lot of things. Her short fiction has been nominated for the Sturgeon Memorial Award, the Nebula Award, the Utopia Award. Her work on Shimmer Magazine was nominated for the Hugo and World Fantasy Awards.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
October 24, 2017
Well worth reading. Two to five stars, maybe a one star in here someplace. There is tremendous variety and a couple of genuinely spectacular stories, but despite the genre, there are some repeated issues: daughters and parents, loss, women characters. I am glad for the last, except that often the women are abused and that could get old fast. The stories are clever, but again, sometimes I am already familiar with the specific cleverness.
Consider how often the openings rely on a compression of setting, action, and a morsel of decoration:
"whiskey smell of peat" (no, my dear, it is whiskey that smells like peat)
"face like tulips" (a good one since, as it turns out, this is literally true)
"when it rains its dark interior acquires a darker hue" (this was one of the good ones)
"he wasn't always a bird" (also literally true)
"white-lacquered nails trailing against the web of her fishnet tights" (this good story needed to be workshopped because it was all over the place)
"the autumn waves are hungry to swallow him up"
"glow fall on Indigo must look something like those flashing blue wings refracting the sunlight" (so much potential)
"dozing there like a ripened apple toppled to earth" (retold Snow White, daughter story)
"skinny landing legs stuck out like a crab . . . stayed up half the night like babies . . . lights under your skins like an echo" (in two sentences)
"the smile of a starved shark" (can't resist this one in the middle of the first page)
"a rosary under her chafed-skinless fingertips" (could not read past "hot trickle tastes like copper on her desiccated tongue" lower on the page)
"the third month after the cities collide when the women dance out of the walls"
"Both of those things upset Helen, because they draw her attention to the fact that there is something unusual in my presence." (my favorite story)
"Heat like a hand at her throat"
"seagulls were strung like irritable white pearls"
"tin soldier firmly clasped in her little hands, complaining that his singing woulds' let her sleep"
"The forest's shifting clouds dappled . . . "
"he smells like licorice and cinnamon"
"first learned to speak listening outside their windows at night"
"skin smells of crashed pearls, dried salt, silver fish scales woven into unfinished memories"
"try not to think about the devil"
"a fortress of textbooks in a semicircle around me"
"we are beyond pleased to present a wide array of tastes for your pleasure"
"The war is over, we hear"
Consider how often the openings rely on a compression of setting, action, and a morsel of decoration:
"whiskey smell of peat" (no, my dear, it is whiskey that smells like peat)
"face like tulips" (a good one since, as it turns out, this is literally true)
"when it rains its dark interior acquires a darker hue" (this was one of the good ones)
"he wasn't always a bird" (also literally true)
"white-lacquered nails trailing against the web of her fishnet tights" (this good story needed to be workshopped because it was all over the place)
"the autumn waves are hungry to swallow him up"
"glow fall on Indigo must look something like those flashing blue wings refracting the sunlight" (so much potential)
"dozing there like a ripened apple toppled to earth" (retold Snow White, daughter story)
"skinny landing legs stuck out like a crab . . . stayed up half the night like babies . . . lights under your skins like an echo" (in two sentences)
"the smile of a starved shark" (can't resist this one in the middle of the first page)
"a rosary under her chafed-skinless fingertips" (could not read past "hot trickle tastes like copper on her desiccated tongue" lower on the page)
"the third month after the cities collide when the women dance out of the walls"
"Both of those things upset Helen, because they draw her attention to the fact that there is something unusual in my presence." (my favorite story)
"Heat like a hand at her throat"
"seagulls were strung like irritable white pearls"
"tin soldier firmly clasped in her little hands, complaining that his singing woulds' let her sleep"
"The forest's shifting clouds dappled . . . "
"he smells like licorice and cinnamon"
"first learned to speak listening outside their windows at night"
"skin smells of crashed pearls, dried salt, silver fish scales woven into unfinished memories"
"try not to think about the devil"
"a fortress of textbooks in a semicircle around me"
"we are beyond pleased to present a wide array of tastes for your pleasure"
"The war is over, we hear"
January 3, 2021
I read all of these stories online years ago but they still delight. Truly high quality, I like to read one a night and then digest the new world I've traveled to rather than reading another straight after.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews