Posted on

THE GREEN KANGAROOS | A book review by weird speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

THE GREEN KANGAROOS
by Jessica McHugh

A book review by weird speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

What if junkies really are speaking to ghosts?

What if being an addict isn’t nearly as horrible as we often make it out to be? What if true happiness is something that can’t ever be forced upon a person?

In McHugh’s twisted speculative fiction tale of addiction and loss, the drug-addled Perry Samson lives and breathes for atlys, a drug so rich in its addictive properties it is served up laced into the very flesh of its donors at the Kum Den Smokehouse, an old whorehouse turned five-star restaurant in the futuristic Patterson Park of Baltimore. With an older brother already dead from drug use, atlys has destroyed not only Samson’s life but the lives of all remaining family members.

But… has it?

There’s a surprising amount of heart in this novel that really begins to radiate toward the end. The pacing is masterful, with an at-first jolting but expediently tuned shift not only in perspective but point of view that works to drag you deep into depravity, kicking and screaming, straight down the hell chute into Perry’s repulsive world. It’s necessary. This works perfectly to cement the mind of the reader in a location where it truly needs to be to digest what is about to come.

Ribbons of Burroughs and Dick are blended into the base flavor of this novel, with no punches pulled. Those faint of heart or weak in the gut may want to give this one a pass. You won’t find any apologies here. Even hardcore aficionados of weird speculative fiction will find themselves tenting their eyebrows from time to time. Perry’s world is a very dark and dangerous place. But it’s nothing compared to the dysfunction within his family.

Therein lies the dark heart of this tale, deeply woven within the woolen fabric of addiction. Whose fault is it? And to what lengths should we go to “help cure” someone clearly not interested in being rescued?

I became immersed in the language, reveled in being led down dark alleyways and through one destitute setting after another, peeling back the scabs. This is especially powerful when told via the vantage point of Perry.

[…God, the state of him. His body is skeletal, full of scarred divots, but his face is the worst. His chin is less prominent, and his cheeks are completely gone. Without fat in his face, it’s no more than sallow bone. I consider the possibility that he’s dead. After all, it wouldn’t be my first corpse conversation of the day….]

But it’s the heartfelt moments that ground you in the harsh reality of our hero’s predicament, that really make you question what you’ve been told and taught, the narrative forced down all our throats.

[…The good things before my addiction have either been erased by drug use or were never there in the first place. There were no family trips, no school functions she chaperoned. She made no costumes and baked no cookies. She never helped me learn my lines for school plays….]

In particular, Perry’s sister (Nadine), who is still friends with his ex, seems to have the deepest hold.

[…”I don’t want to see you anymore, Perry. Neither do Mom, Dad or Serena. We’re ready to write you off as another loss….]

Such is the coarse psychology of this book. Viewed from both sides, the path to a “cure” becomes a rapidly forking network of heavily weighted decisions.

The most refreshing aspect to THE GREEN KANGAROOS (I won’t give away the meaning) is the way McHugh unapologetically turns the table on who’s to blame. Is it the addict causing all the suffering in the world? Or should the ones who supposedly love them shoulder more of the responsibility?

Hell, is anyone to blame?

This book will keep you turning the pages. It’s also full of fiendish twists, and plenty of appropriately developed sci-fi and tech to get your weird glands salivating. Looking forward to the sequel.

Posted on

AMERICAN MONSTER | A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

AMERICAN MONSTER
by J.S. Breukelaar

A review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

In Breukelaar’s first novel, those who “fall” are transformed into sentient planets known as brain worlds. AMERICAN MONSTER follows the disjointed (sometimes comical, often grotesque) efforts of one such celestial consciousness (KALI I8) as it struggles to free itself from its eternal prison by willing into existence as a kind of hunter/breeder known as Norma.

In effect, Norma is a demon. Although she doesn’t quite grasp this. She exists in a near-future devastated southern California region known as The Spill. Lots of otherworldly elements are folded (not blended) with very subtle hints of demonic possession and a kind of Matrix/Blade Runner universe gone rotten, resulting in a ripe, gooey slime that is so fun to squish between your fingers. This book hits the ground running and never stops.

From the very beginning, it’s made very clear what Norma is after. A horn. Driven on by the insatiable desire programmed into her celestial code by Mommy (Norma’s only connection to what she is, where she came from and why she exists), her only purpose is to combine with The Guy, which will somehow set off some sort of divine code that will free Kali I8. Mommy communicates with Norma via broken bits of discarded tech, berating, punishing and encouraging her along the way. Mommy is inescapable and always watching.

What Breukelaar has done is broken the mold of the traditional “man on a mission” novel. If this dark angel had been the one with the horn, I’m not sure the story would have been as satisfying. In fact, it might have been downright horrible to behold. To experience this techno tale of a fallen something-or-other, whose only purpose is to fornicate her way into oblivion, is incredibly refreshing. Norma is big, powerful and perfectly capable of bashing her way toward the end goal. This isn’t to say she is without fault, or that her crooked quest is simply a hack-and-slash walk in the park. Norma gets her ass handed to her. Several times.

In a way, Norma commits a cardinal sin. It’s not the sex, the killing, the stealing, the murderous rampages. Norma’s sin is something even more devastating, and it is one Mommy finds very hard to overlook.

For me, the most beautiful aspect of this story is how Norma consistently picks herself up and keeps going. She’s doomed to deal with her curse. But it is her eventual discovery of the ability to love that truly sets this book apart. I don’t know. Maybe it’s me, but women just seem to have a much better understanding of love and loss.

The language flows, while still retaining a satisfying visceral grit:

…He misfired his second round partly into pappy’s ass, so that the old man had begun to buckle, screaming, by the time she stove in the boy’s throat with her gel-armor elbow, rammed her fist into his face….

…The sun had gotten too big for Mommy, gave it a swollen head, or was it the other way around? Who had killed who? What had killed the First Beings?

I absolutely adored the thin veil drawn between the fierce aroma of the real world, the true America, and the ethereal transcendence of the astral spirit plane. I share a similar respect for the elegance deeply coded within not only the constructs of the universe but the way life perceives life, and in doing so imagines itself, warts and all, sinners and saints.

AMERICAN MONSTER is a masterfully coded techno/terror tale of cosmic horror and familial dysfunction.

Incidentally, Kali is the Hindu “mortal demon” and the source of all evil.

Posted on

GOLD FAME CITRUS | A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

GOLD FAME CITRUS
by Claire Vaye Watkins

A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

Among the future devastation of a California being slowly gobbled up by enormous dunes of sand, two survivors (Luz and Ray) are squatting in the bones of a Hollywood mansion when they happen across a toddler in need. They rescue the child from the gang of addicts doing little to nothing to care for it, and take her along on an odyssey into the dune sea known as the Amargosa in search of some kind of a meaningful life.

The language in this novel is bleak but powerful, if not overwrought in some areas. I remember the term wickered being used to describe the structure a dead desert bush, which works brilliantly. There is, however, a shroud of doom and gloom that hangs heavily over this novel some may find hard to digest.

That said, I still thoroughly enjoyed the language. It serves the book very well, and while some have cited this specific attribute as the reason they disliked the novel, I have to wonder if the cover had contained the name Vandermeer if some of these reviews would have been so harsh.

GOLD FAME CITRUS is not for everyone, which IMHO is precisely the way a literary novel should be written, and this is very much a literary read. I can, however, list two factors that I did not enjoy

The first is the tempting inclusion of a kind of “ecology handbook” of the new desert, which includes allusions to all sorts of imaginative creatures that have arisen in this post-apoc world. But they turn out to be just that — imagined.

The second is the ending. I won’t give it away, but it just felt a little rushed and lackluster. Having endured (in a very pleasant way) the intentional dreariness and isolation, I found myself wanting so much more for our heroes. But, perhaps there was no other way for such a book to end.

GOLD FAME CITRUS was an enjoyable read, and a fine addition to any reader’s climate fiction shelf.

TF

Posted on

ZANESVILLE | A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

ZANESVILLE
by Kris Saknussemm

A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

My agent recommends books to me all the time. This was one of them. To be honest, when I started reading ZANESVILLE I was a little spooked. There aren’t many writers I can say are clearly out of my league. Saknussemm is one of them.

This is speculative science fiction at its absolute finest. Hands down. Saknussemm writes with authority and a gleaming sense of style. This guy is clearly comfortable at the keyboard, and he really knows his stuff.

Now, I will admit that he and I share the same agent, but this should carry even more weight considering there’s probably a very good reason we’re both represented by the same person–our writing mannerisms are very similar. Kris also has been very helpful in guiding me toward my own personal style.

Okay, enough of the disclaimer. Now let’s chat like your average Joe Reader…

ZANESVILLE is strange. It begins by introducing a man with a half-meter penis who wakes up in a dystopian Central Park, where he encounters a myriad genetically altered/mutilated/enhanced people who claim to be fighting the all-powerful Vitessa corporation, a mega drug conglomerate that’s got the entire population of the world hooked on their yummy pharmaceuticals. Our well-slung hero has no memory of who he is, or what it is he’s supposed to do. A bizarre sequence of events sets him off on an improbable odyssey to find the answers to these questions.

Saknussemm pulls no punches. If you want a double-scoop of weird with some strange sauce drizzled all over the top, this is your book.

At times, the prose can get dense and even somewhat overwhelming. But this in no way impedes a reader familiar with the speculative terrain. Even so, I guarantee you’ve never read anything like this. You really will be taken on a very strange adventure.

If I were forced to come up with an elevator pitch, I would say ZANESVILLE was built on a framework not unlike the Blade Runner universe–except that practically everyone and everything is not at all what they seem. I’m serious, you’re going to encounter some weird shit in this book, but it all performs flawlessly.

ZANESVILLE challenged me, both as a reader and author. Once I caught on to the rhythm of the Saknussemm’s unique writing style, I was stupefied by how naturally the entire story unfolded. But you have to pay attention. Each paragraph (and I truly mean this) is packed with all sorts of interesting tidbits. It was like being led through a carnival sideshow spread across the entire country.

A good amount of suspension of disbelief is required, as well, as is a stomach for the very, very odd and at times borderline grotesque. Still, Saknussemm wields this power with skill and precision. There’s nothing in this book that doesn’t belong.

I have a feeling this is going to be one of those books I pull out each year and read again. Its that dense and valuable. I’m sure I could read it several times and catch something new.

TF

Posted on

I DREAM OF MIRRORS | Book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

I DREAM OF MIRRORS
by Chris Kelso

A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

Why do mirrors exist?

I DREAM OF MIRRORS is the kind of novella best consumed with a picnic basket full of pharmaceuticals. Since this is both dangerous and illegal, I offer instead a comfy chair and a roaring fire. Perhaps a cold beer and a hammock? Cup of coffee and an Autumnal porch swing?

Doesn’t really matter. This is your dream, pal.

Kelso’s dream begins like your typical zombie apocalypse, with two heroes (Kurt and Kad) fighting off a mob of zombies as they race back through a desolate city with a bagful of fresh supplies toward the luxury apartment in which they’ve been squatting. Then everything goes full banana-nut-cake fucking weird.

The “city” has been taken over by one Miles Dunwoody, a charismatic cult leader type drawing everyone inexorably toward him with the promise of redemption and rescue from some unknown force that is coming to get you. Seems fairly straightforward. Once our duo reaches the safety of their honeymoon suite, however, the icing on the cake becomes smeared.

Kelso is cut from the same cloth as Burroughs, whose influence on this novella stands out in bold type. There’s even a bit of the cut-up process in here that makes it feel as if some scenes have been intentionally shuffled together then rapidly dealt blind. At times, you will feel like you are losing your grip on what you’re reading, which in my opinion is where this little book masterfully shines.

Much of the language is rich and poetic, a long burbling dream sequence full of misguided attempts at introspection, fear and self-doubt. (I kept imagining Jude Law as our humble narrator.) We see this weird world through the eyes of an unreliable narrator, and we don’t care. We know he’s disillusioned and lost and we love it!

Why is he here? Why does he exist? Is it time to throw in the towel and simply commit? To what? To Dunwoody? To a fluxing sense of self? To love?

That’s a whole lotta damn questions, and by the time you’ve finished the book you’ll likely have more.

This is a short read. I usually read very slowly, and I finished this book in just three sittings.

If you’re looking for your typical genre novel take a pass. This won’t make you feel all warm and giggly at the end. In fact, there are several points along the way that are so disturbing they’re difficult to surmount. This book gets dark–very dark.

If, however, you consider yourself a reader with a discerning palate, a connoisseur of the strange and unusual, then you’ve come to the right place. This is my first Kelso read, and I’m going to be snatching up everything else he’s written.

TF

Posted on

CLAIMING T-MO | A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

CLAIMING T-MO
by Eugen Bacon

A book review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

To borrow a phrase from the novel, CLAIMING T-MO is told through the masterfully interwoven “color of language.”

From the dust jacket, you might expect a paranormal sci-fi type of read–elements of which this book certainly contains–but it soon becomes clear this is far more than any typical genre romp.

The eponymous character is the son of a mystical priest and his child bride, and the story orbits around his life. But there is so much more here than meets the eye.

It would have been easy to place the point of view on T-Mo, but he’s not what this book is about. From the very beginning, the character of T-Mo is split, a soul divided by arrogance and love, into two halves: one belonging to his mother, who chose his true name at birth; and the other corrupted by his tyrannical father, who broke with convention by demanding his son be called Odysseus.

Therein lies the true roots of the story. CLAIMING T-MO is really about how evil can seduce the innocent, about how raw power and hubris can damage the psyche, causing that pain to echo and brand generations of women, how foolish choices and unconditional love mix like oil and water. Through it all, numerous lives are damaged. That said, the book sums up very satisfyingly in the only way it can.

Reading this book is like swimming through a dream. The language and conventions used carry the very savory tang of the paranormal, although this is truly a literary novel. At times, I felt like I was floating along like a balloon, enraptured by the tone and choice of words. Bacon is a poet of the highest order.

If this is Bacon’s first novel, I eagerly look forward to her next.

TF

Posted on

ZERO SAINTS | Book Review by Weird Fantasy & Speculative Fiction Author Ted Fauster

ZERO SAINTS
by Gabino Iglesias

A review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

————————–

Are you sitting down?

You should sit down.

From the very first page, ZERO SAINTS pulls you in. It’s the equivalent of that bad friend you shouldn’t be hanging out with grabbing you by the neck of your t-shirt and yanking you into the passenger seat of a ’71 Lincoln Continental. Before you can so much as buckle up, the tires are squealing and you’re off to the races.

pulls you in. It’s the equivalent of that bad friend you shouldn’t be hanging out with grabbing you by the neck of your shirt and yanking you into the passenger seat of a ’71 Lincoln Continental. Before you can so much as buckle up, the tires are squealing and you’re off to the races.

Let me tell you something about Gabino. He’s one of the most hardworking hustlers out there. This guy eats books and shits poetry. He’s a giant, a god and a legend. He’s also the nicest guy I know who can snap you in two.

Blending Spanglish, Spanish and English, whenever and wherever he wants, Iglesias takes us on a wild ride through a smeared canvas of violence and enchanted terror. There were several downright gut-twisting moments where I almost had to put the book down, including the description of a man’s neck being snapped to one side that will haunt me to the grave. But I deserved it. This book owns that moment. It wants you see, to feel. It wants you to know.

Iglesias’ writing is beyond raw; it’s stripped to the bone and bleeding. It’s another color you can’t see. I’m warning you, you’re gonna lose some fingers and possibly one ear along the way. That’s the price, and you should consider yourself lucky. But the most beautiful aspect of this book is the fantastic parlor trick is pulls off in your mind–you genuinely find yourself rooting for a drug dealer.

Let’s face it: in my pasty white world books like this scare the shit out of me. I’m thankful for the bubble in which I can comfortably (and safely) recline as my mind travels through an unimaginable universe no one should have to endure. In the process, I found myself becoming increasingly aware of something else.

I was thankful for my life. I was comforted by the fact that I very likely won’t ever have to face any similar circumstances–and I’m not talking about having to become a drug dealer in order to survive, getting mixed up in murder and Santeria, friends turning on you, running blindly for your life. These are the aspects of the dreamworld, the imagined nightmarish landscape through which the author’s brain had to travel and endure to get to the end. He wrote it. And you deserve it.

This book won’t break you, but it just might wake you up.

Ted Fauster

Posted on

BINTI | Book Review by Weird Fantasy & Speculative Fiction Author Ted Fauster

BINTI by Nnedi Okorafor

BINTI
by Nnedi Okorafor

A review by weird fantasy & speculative fiction author Ted Fauster

HARRY POTTER IN SPACE!

I absolutely loved this novella!

Binti, a tech genius and member of the future Earth tribe Himba, is the first of her community to be accepted into a prestigious but far away university. Her parents do not wish her to attend, so she runs away to board the shuttle.

MILD SPOILER FOLLOWS!

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Once in transit, the spacecraft is quickly overrun by a strange alien race. Everyone aboard is killed, except for the pilot and Binti, who seems to be protected by a rare piece of ancient technology she has brought with her–the edan. Binti very quickly learns the edan contains both the power to repel and defend against the bizarre Meduse. In addition, she can use it to communicate with one of her captors and a weird sort of relationship is born.

The subsequent story that unfolds is energetic, palpable and intriguing. What I admire most, however, is the poetically tumbling language. Binti is speculative lit at its finest, a well-rounded cultural tone in a wildly imagined and futuristic scenario that pits two conflicting cultures against one another.

In this first novella of a now blockbuster series, Okorafor has crafted a powerful yet humbled character who is tested far beyond her comfort zone. The writing is rich and transformative. I felt as if I had become this young space traveler, and at times it felt as if my heart would pound out of my chest!

The rest of the BINTI series is definitely on my winter reading list. I eagerly look forward to continuing the story.

Ted Fauster