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J. Rose Black
“I can’t do more than this. Don’t ask me. If you ask, I’ll try and I’ll fail. You’ll end up hating me. And I’d rather die . . . than have you hate me. Or disappoint you. My own darkness, it still chips away at me.”
― J. Rose Black, Losing My Breath

Miriam Verbeek
“Saskia.” A hand covered hers.
Saskia frowned. It was irritating enough that she only had one hand to work with. She didn’t need to have the movement of that one impeded as well. “I’m in the middle of – Oh! Tania! What – I thought you were in Canberra.”
“I was yesterday. I returned this morning.”
“Yesterday?” Saskia turned from staring at Tania to staring at her computer and the table. A half-empty mug of something sat next to a partly eaten sandwich and a mostly empty glass of water. “Oh,” she sat back in her chair. “I do this sometimes. I get caught up in things.”
Her gaze fell on the lines and boxes on the monitor’s screen. She sat forward, her surroundings disappearing from her awareness again. “Tania, I think I’m close to figuring it out.”
Tania’s hand, still on Saskia’s, squeezed gently. “Good. But now you need to take a rest.”
“No. I can finish this. I’m on a roll.”
“Yes. You can roll again later.”
“Look! I think I’ve almost worked it out.” She tugged her hand from under Tania’s and pointed to her computer screen, which showed a bank statement. “Look at these transactions. I can match them to –”
Tania peered at the screen. “Whose statement is that?”
― Miriam Verbeek, The Forest

Frank  Lambert
“You are thinking in human terms again,
and forgetting Time is neither tick nor tock...
Jarle Heavyfoot”
― Frank Lambert, Ghost Doors

Sara Pascoe
“Oscar looked up from his plate, and if a cat could laugh, he would have. ‘Boy, that’s ugly, even for a jinn. Looks like a cross between a rat, a frog and a bottlebrush.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

Todor Bombov
“Let’s get to know each other. My name’s William, William More, but you can call me Willy. I’m an engineer-chemist who graduated from MIT. So . . . but you’re all alike to me . . . of course, you would be . . . you’re robots. And all your names are that sort of, um . . . codes, technical numbers . . . I need some marker where I can pick you out. Well, well, to you I’ll call . . .,” and Willy pondered for a moment, “Gumball, yes, Gumball! Do you mind?” “No, sir, actually no,” CSE-TR-03 said, agreeing with its new given name. “Ah, that’s wonderful. And then you’re Darwin,” Willy said, accosting the second robot. “Look what a nice name—Darwin! What do you say, eh?” “What can I say, sir? I like it,” CSE-TR-02 agreed too. “Yes, a human name with a past . . . You and Gumball . . . are from the same family, the Methanesons!” “It turns out thus, sir,” Darwin confirmed its family belonging. “And you’re like Larry. You’re Larry. Do you know that?” More addressed the next robot in line. “Yes, sir, just now I learned that,” the third robot said, accepted its name as well.”
― Todor Bombov, Homo Cosmicus 2: Titan: A Science Fiction Novel

year in books
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