The volume is divided into fiction from the award winners and nonfiction, most of which reports on the past or speculates on the future, of science fiction and fantasy. I am going to focus on each of the fiction pieces, then give an overview of what the n-f has to say. There are also two poems, about which I am unqualified to comment.
Before starting on the fiction pieces, I’m going to start with definitions, because very frequently I am going to say that this or that story is “not science fiction” or “not fantasy.” Hence, I refer you to the Library of Congress Genre Terms scope note for "Science Fiction:" "Fiction that depicts imagined scientific or technological advances (e.g., time travel, artificial intelligence) and their impact on society." Fantasy fiction: “Fiction in which magic and extraordinary characters are integral to the story.” Note that the definition of s-f is much less subjective than that of fiction; I think of the Nebula as being an award first and foremost ofr s-f, but they do include “Fantasy in the name of the organization, “Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFFWA), so I’ve included that. You have every right to disagree with these definitions, as does the SFFWA, who awards the Nebula and decides what goes into this collection, but I needed a baseline, since much of it seemed to me as outside the genre, and that is what I’ll be using.
“Magic for Beginners” won the prize for “Best Novella,” and it seems to be intended as Young Adult literature. I don’t read a lot of YA fiction, and so I don’t claim to understand how this fits into that genre. It was written by a woman, with a boy as the protagonist, but seems to have been meant more for a female audience. At least I am sure that I wouldn’t have read past three paragraphs as a boy of 11-17 years old. It is billed as fantasy, but takes place in contemporary America, with only a few oddities to constitute the “fantastic” element – most significantly a very popular TV show which operates like no TV show ever has. It appears at random times on different channels without warning, the actors change roles from one episode to the next, there are no stars, and it all takes place inside of a gigantic library. In some ways, it seems like a kind of funerary oration for the days when everyone in the family watched the same shows, and talked to each other about them, instead of fragmenting into specialized and rarely-shared interests. I wouldn’t say it was bad, but it didn’t make me want to read more YA fiction.
“I Live with You” by Carol Emshwiller was the best Short Story for 2005. It reminds me a lot of Don Webb’s writing, which makes me wonder if there is a whole sub-genre of horror about modern day loser-types encountering something unusual that changes their lives while destroying someone else’s. It didn’t strike me as remotely science fictional, apart from the fact that the narrator is able to be invisible (supposedly because no one pays attention to her). It was written in the present tense, as was the previous story, so I guess that was big at the time. On the whole, I thought is was pretty meh, but it may stay with me for a while (which is also like Don Webb).
“The End of the World as We Know It” was by Dale Bailey and it also reminded me of Don Webb, so there’s that. The author seemed very smug and pleased with himself for defying genre conventions, but didn’t have much to say beyond “look how cool I am for not doing what you expect.” He addresses the audience directly in order to say this, which gets annoying very quickly.
Anne Harris contributed “Still Life with Boobs,” which I think is my favorite story so far, although like the others I wouldn’t consider it sci fi or fantasy. It is Cronenbergian body-horror surrounding mid-life crises over sex and identity, done with wit, charm, and feminist consciousness. Unlike the others, in which it seems the protagonist is pretty well doomed to stay what they are throughout, it has a bit of a character arc and an opportunity for agency.
Next up is “Identity Theft,” a runner-up for Best Novella by Canadian writer Robert J. Sawyer, which is far and away my favorite story up to this point, and is the first that is undeniably science fiction. Set on a Mars colony, it is a piece of hardboiled detective fiction that deals with replicants, making copies of people’s minds, and murder. At first I was a tad critical of how far Sawyer went with over-the-top violence and cynicism, but every detail of what is described fits neatly into the puzzle, and I’m now sold on him as a great writer of detective fiction. I wouldn’t be surprised if Alex Lomax has had follow-up stories.
“My Mother Dancing” by Nancy Kress was also short-listed for Best Short Story, and it is undeniably a science fiction story by any definition. Loosely about a deep-space mission to follow up on terraforming operations, it manages to intelligently consider questions of philosophical dogmatism, existentialism, and humanity’s efforts to displace or become God. I didn’t actually enjoy reading it all that much, not least because of an invented pronoun system that reminded me a bit too much of Timothy Leary, but I suspect that it’s something that will keep me mulling over its ideas for some time to come, unlike many (most?) of the other stories in this volume.
There is a brief excerpt from the novel “Camouflage” by Joe Haldeman which demonstrates why Haldeman was still a professional writer in an age when little money was coming out of publishers for science fiction. It is very much the sort of thing people read on airplanes – all style, no substance. The excerpt seems to have been selected by a marketing committee to draw in the suckers.
Kelly Link (she of “Magic for Beginners”) also won in the “Best Novelette” category for “The Faerie Handbag.” I’m not really sure what a “novelette” is, but apparently it’s a long-ish short story shorter than a novella. I liked this one a bit better, though it also seems intended for a YA audience. It’s a bit more down-beat, but still loosely a modern fairy tale, as the title suggests. It’s about a girl with a crazy grandma who thinks a whole European village is hiding in her handbag…except there’s evidence to show that she’s not so crazy, after all. It might not be sci fi (no technology is central to the story), but even accepting the vagueness of the concept of “fantasy,” this one has more qualifications than most. Grandma is certainly an “extraordinary character” by any measure.
The runner-up novelette is by James Patrick Kelly, titled “Men Are Trouble,” and I am pretty safe in saying that it is hands-down my favorite piece in this collection. I was slightly disappointed to see another hardboiled detective piece after “Identity Theft,” but this is writing on a whole other level. The intro compares it to Chandler, surely one of its inspirations, but it is far more subtle and carefully plotted than a Chandler novel. It also draws from Clarke – specifically the Overlords from Childhood’s End, but here they are shorter in stature and far less infallibly acting for the Ultimate Good of Humanity. In fact, they seem downright devious and untrustworthy, though maybe they are just inscrutable. Anyway, the premise is that these super-beings have “disappeared” all the men on the planet, and our heroine investigates a plot to (possibly) reintroduce Y-chromosomes despite them. I’ll definitely keep my eye out for more Kelly to read in the future.
The final work of fiction is a story by Harlan Ellison, who in the year 2006 was inducted as a Grand Master of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. Before I discuss that, however, I have to talk about the penultimate piece of fiction, which is the introduction to this work written by Barry N. Malzberg. Ellison was probably one of sci fi’s least likeable and liked individuals, a man who went out of his way to insult everyone, was notoriously hard to work with, and notoriously used whatever power he had to cow and intimidate anyone with less. In Malzberg’s telling, however, he was a lovely person, who just happened to speak truth to power, and insulted only the “right people.” Apparently, even at this late date, Ellison could still find sycophants, if not actual friends.
The real Ellison is very much on display, however, in “The Resurgence of Miss Ankle-Strap Wedgie,” which, by the way, is in no way a work of science fiction or fantasy. It is an expose, through the eyes of a man who made good money working in Hollywood, of the Hollywood of the 1960s. It is vicious and tragic, although to its credit it also must be said that it is remarkably accurate in terms of production and publicity details, and also that it is very well written. The moment where Ellison truly takes off the mask is in his fantasy-description of his protagonist beating and mutilating a muscle-bound “beach bum,” despite being himself a “pigeon-weight” in defense of a woman’s honor (despite the fact said protagonist is in the process of ruining said woman’s life). It’s notable that Harlan Ellison was a tiny man, in no way capable in real life of winning a physical fight fairly. It seems odd to reprint such a no-longer-timely story, but I suppose it was intended to exemplify his career, more than the state of his then-current writing.
Most, though not all, of the nonfiction selections in this volume are state-of-the-industry snapshots understandably concerned about the direction publishing is moving, the difficulty in finding audiences for genre work, and most especially concern about getting paid for doing anything creative in the face of an Internet that expects everything for free. All of this still seems relevant today, and, if anything, the notes of optimism mostly ring hollow, although there are still apparently enough professional works getting published that the SFFWA continues to hand out Nebula awards. It would be pretty ironic if one gets awarded to an AI within the next few years, but also it might seem appropriate if the first such writing award was for work in science fiction.