Archive for the ‘Blog’ Category

Uncanny Mini Interview with Year Two Contributor Mary Robinette Kowal!


Mary Robinette Kowal is the author of The Glamourist Histories series of fantasy novels. She has received the Campbell Award for Best New Writer, three Hugo awards, and the RT Reviews award for Best Fantasy Novel. Her work has been nominated for the Hugo, Nebula, and Locus awards. Her stories appear in Asimov’s, Clarkesworld, and several Year’s Best anthologies. Mary, a professional puppeteer, also performs as a voice actor, recording fiction for authors such as Seanan McGuire, Cory Doctorow, and John Scalzi. She lives in Chicago with her husband Rob and over a dozen manual typewriters. Her story “ Midnight Hour” appeared in Uncanny Magazine #5. Visit

Interview by Michi Trota

You can support the Uncanny Magazine Year Two Kickstarter here.

1) You recently completed your Glamourist History series. Each one is a little different in structure: you’ve done a romance, a spy story, a political thriller, a heist, and you’ve described the last book as your “grimdark” story. Looking back, did you have a favorite out of those different story types?

I really enjoyed the heist novel structure, but the one that I found most interesting was the grimdark. Why? Because my initial approach to the novel was thinking about Downton Abbey and how it is structured based on soap operas. What I discovered was that when you apply that structure to a fantasy novel, it naturally veers into grimdark. That was a little bit surprising, but made sense when I thought about it. In soap operas, things are heightened and always, always getting worse. There’s just not as much blood and dirt as in a fantasy novel.

2) You’re an experienced puppeteer and recently completed a several week-long puppetry workshop at the Jim Henson Studios. What was the most surprising experience you had at the workshop?

The workshop was heavily improv based. I haven’t done any formal improv since high school. What surprised me was how many exercises were like the POV exercises that I do when teaching writing. I suspect that a lot of writers would be well-served to take some character based improv classes.

3) Anyone who follows you on Twitter and Instagram knows that you love to make pies. What is your favorite pie – and which fictional character of yours would you most like to share it with and why?

I am a sucker for a pecan pie, which I almost never see and rarely make. If I could, I’d share it with Elma York, from “Lady Astronaut of Mars” because she’s based on my grandmother.

Writing the Margins from the Centre and Other Moral Geometries by Amal El-Mohtar


(This is mirrored from Amal El-Mohtar’s Blog)

This blog post is written in fulfillment of a Kickstarter reward claimed during Uncanny Magazine‘s Year One Kickstarter (with apologies for the delay, as the Year Two Kickstarter is presently underway, about which more later!)

I was asked to write about the following:

How can writers represent people on the margins in their stories? How do writers know when they are being allies and when they are talking over people who could be speaking for themselves? How can I tell, as a writer, when I’m telling a story that isn’t mine to tell?

There are short and long answers to these questions. Here are the slightly discouraging short answers, in order:

a) carefully;
b) mostly by making mistakes and learning from them;
c) with difficulty.

Here are the longer answers.

How can writers represent people on the margins in their stories?

There’s been so much written on this subject, from so many perspectives, that part of me just wants to link to a lot of people who’ve said things better than I could. In this Racefail-era post, for instance, Nora Jemisin talks about how writers of colour, including herself, worry about representing race all the time; in this post, Cat Valente talks about how we’re all going to screw up at some point; in this post, Max Gladstone talks about how he, as an Apex Privilegedor, approaches writing people of different backgrounds with reference to getting chased by bees. And years ago in the heady days of now-locked LJ I wrote the following in a moment of helpless introspection:

I am wondering about stories and how to tell them.

I am a creature colonized by three languages, and the geopolitics of my inward self are complex. I have internalised certain societal structures, and am informed by my experiences within a family within a society that is itself shaped and coloured by its relationship with other societies. Even my questioning of those structures must necessarily be informed by them, to some degree. When I open my mouth or set pen to paper or hover my fingers over a keyboard, there’s a great deal of jostling over what will come out. And on the one hand everyone’s perspective is unique and no matter what you’re trying to say — be it a story about dragons or trees or dragon-trees or tree-dragons or music or race or bodies or talking narwhals — there is value to you saying it because we are all of us snowflakes and stories may contain the same elements without being the same.

But if you are aware of your limits, and your failings, and your inadequacies, do you strive to go beyond them all the same in order to break new ground, no matter how inexpertly, no matter how fumbling the result will be — or do you take your limits, and your failings, and your inadequacies, and try to build something out of them with the awareness of what they are?

In the original post I didn’t really arrive at an answer beyond “just try your best and learn from your mistakes.” I still think that’s a worthwhile answer. Because ultimately the “how” of the first question has to involve an attitude of approach rather than a sheet of instructions: accept that your work’s reception will have nothing to do with your intentions, swallow your pride and hurt feelings, and examine that reception for how to improve.

The thing is, that’s exactly the same attitude one should have to any critique. If I turn a story in to a workshop I fully expect that the responses I receive will range from “hated it for reasons that have nothing to do with the story” to “loved it for reasons that are unhelpful to my craft” with a lot of useful stuff in between. It’s my responsibility to not be hurt by the hatred and not be over-buoyed by the praise and to find the things that will help me grow as a writer, whether that’s accepting that Botany Doesn’t Work That Way or Let Me Tell You What a Stroke Feels Like or This is How to Pet an Owl.

It’s just that our sense of self, of our own goodness and morality, tends to be less bound up in how accurate our science is than in our portrayals of other human beings. It’s easier to come to terms with being bad at science than with being racist, but it’s a million times more important to confront the latter in ourselves as well as in others.

So, ultimately, my instruction here is less How Not to Screw Up Writing Marginalised People, but How to Accept That You’ll Screw It Up But Do Keep Doing It Anyway. But for more solid references I also recommend these resources: pick up Writing the Other: A Practical Approach by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward (it’s on sale!), or, if it’s within your means, consider attending a workshop-retreat on the subject. There are also LOADS of blog posts on the matter; Lisa Bradley wrote a series of posts on writing [email protected] characters, Jim Hines gave his blog over to guest posts and collected them into this anthology, with all proceeds going to the Carl Brandon Society and Con or Bust. A little googling goes a long way. Which brings me to the answer for the next question.

How do writers know when they are being allies and when they are talking over people who could be speaking for themselves?

By listening. Seriously. Just listen and be quiet and think about your words and actions. A lot of the time people will tell you when you’re overstepping bounds. That said, accept that a lot of people won’t. If you accidentally step on someone’s foot, some people will shout at you in pain and others will quietly try to extract their foot from beneath your weight and decide to keep their distance from you, and in neither case does either owe you anything

But in terms of just governing your own behaviour, a good rule of thumb is to do two key things:

  1. Amplify the voices of marginalized people
  2. Take on the 101-level work of addressing other people privileged in the same ways you are.

Again, listening and cultivating patience in the face of frustration at having your unexamined beliefs challenged is deeply important — which brings me to the last question.

How can I tell, as a writer, when I’m telling a story that isn’t mine to tell?

I actually have a hard time answering this — my first, totally unhelpful response is that when I don’t feel a story is mine to tell I literally can’t write it. If I can’t find my way into a character’s head because the experience I’m trying to convey is too inaccessible to me after copious research, I just … Can’t write it, and ask myself the hard questions of why I’m seeking to do so, what it is I’m trying to say. It’s the sort of thing that really needs to dwell in specifics to be answered.

I guess one thing I could do is say: don’t think a story isn’t yours to tell only because it’s been experienced by a person different from you. To paraphrase something Nalo Hopkinson once said on a Readercon panel, we mostly all know what it’s like to bite into a piece of fruit, regardless of language, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, nationality. To say we have a lot in common is not to say that we’re all the same — but, still, we have a lot in common. Finding our way into different stories through those commonalities is crucial, necessary work.

This is a superb essay by Kamila Shamsie that I can’t stop re-reading and thinking about, because my engagement with it is thorny and complicated, but necessary. In it, she examines in great depth the American reluctance to engage with the cultures of other countries, saying, among other immensely quotable things, “Your soldiers will come to our lands, but your novelists won’t.” She wants the white novelists to come.

I do too — but not if they come with the same sense of entitlement, attitude, and standard-bearing as the soldiers. Not if they come as tourists or ex-pats, for the sun, the food, the cheaper cost of living. Not if they come to exploit.

How different would it be if the novelists came as immigrants: bearing the burdened expectation of learning new languages, adapting to different customs, integrating. Imagine white novelists, singers, poets, approaching other people’s cultures and languages with the same gratitude and humility their own societies expect from immigrants*.

So, finally, to recap —

Write carefully. Accept you’ll make mistakes, and that those mistakes will hurt your pride, and that you’ll have to figure out how to go on. Try your best anyway and know that this isn’t an easy thing, and that you might fail.

But if you’re doing this work for the right reasons — to improve your craft, to lessen the harm in the world, to strengthen your relationship with it through your art — failing better is its own reward.

*My analogy’s imperfect because expecting gratitude and humility from immigrants makes me abjectly furious, especially when they’ve been displaced from their homes by the machinations of the countries into which they’re immigrating. The asymmetry’s horrible, I’ve read Veracini, this is not that post, but I just wanted to make my disgust with that attitude clear even as I’m trying to use that attitude to make a different point.

Ocean is a voyage

(Mirrored from Sonya Taaffe’s LiveJournal Blog or Dreamwidth Blog)

Belated rabbit, rabbit! My poem “Σειρήνοιϊν” is now online at Uncanny Magazine. It was written for Elise Matthesen. The title means “of the two Sirens” in Homeric Greek.

The number of Sirens in Greek myth is various. Most commonly there are three, although according to Homeric epic there are two of them: witness the use of the rare dual in Odyssey 12.52.

. . . ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἀκουέμεν αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέλῃσθα,
δησάντων σ᾽ ἐν νηῒ θοῇ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δ᾽ αὐτοῦ πείρατ᾽ ἀνήφθω,
ὄφρα κε τερπόμενος ὄπ᾽ ἀκούσῃς Σειρήνοιϊν.

. . . but if you yourself wish to hear,
let them bind you hand and foot in the swift ship
upright at the heel of the mast, and let the ropes be made fast to it,
so that you may hear and delight in the voice of the two Sirens.

(Classical Greek nouns have three grammatical numbers: singular, dual, plural. The genitive singular of Σειρήν is Σειρῆνος, one Siren; the genitive plural is Σειρήνων, an unspecified number of more than one Sirens. Most uses of the dual had already assimilated into the plural by the time of Homeric Greek; a noun declines in only two cases in the dual where the singular and plural get five cases to choose from and it’s not unusual in Attic Greek for a dual subject to take a plural verb because there are dual verb forms, but they are relatively restricted compared to the exploding tentacular tangle that is the classical Greek verb under normal circumstances. I have the impression that the dual is more common in Semitic languages, but I can’t verify this from experience: Akkadian confines its use of the dual mostly to body parts that come in pairs. Latin and related Italic languages dropped the concept like a hot rock except for one or two fossilized instances, like the number ambo, “both.” English has the same sort of vestiges, visible in the usage of both and the implied alternatives of either or neither. People who know other languages should totally chime in here.)

The mourning siren in the Museum of Fine Arts has been on my mind since I photographed it last November. I felt like a bad classicist for missing it until March, but it turns out that mourning sirens are a thing. Their first association with death is obvious, as Kirke warns Odysseus in Odyssey 12.41–46:

ὅς τις ἀιδρείῃ πελάσῃ καὶ φθόγγον ἀκούσῃ
Σειρήνων, τῷ δ᾽ οὔ τι γυνὴ καὶ νήπια τέκνα
οἴκαδε νοστήσαντι παρίσταται οὐδὲ γάνυνται,
ἀλλά τε Σειρῆνες λιγυρῇ θέλγουσιν ἀοιδῇ
ἥμεναι ἐν λειμῶνι, πολὺς δ᾽ ἀμφ᾽ ὀστεόφιν θὶς
ἀνδρῶν πυθομένων, περὶ δὲ ῥινοὶ μινύθουσι.

Whoever draws near in ignorance and hears the voice
of the Sirens, never will his wife and little children
stand beside him when he has come home and be glad of him,
but the Sirens charm him with their clear-voiced song
as they lie in a meadow and all about them a great heap of bones
of men rotting and the flesh shrinking away.

But why then the actions of mourners? Why grieve over the human dead, instead of nesting happily among them? Since we find them all over funerarymonuments (and other associated material culture: memorial tablets, lots of lekythoi, even representations of tombs), they must possess some resonance beyond the merely monstrous or the generically chthonic. I like a cinerary urn decorated with Skylla as much as the next Etruscan, but I don’t see her repeated across the centuries.

Later traditions reconfigure the Sirens as devouring seductresses, but what they promise the hero in Odyssey 12.184–191 is not sex, but knowledge:

δεῦρ᾽ ἄγ᾽ ἰών, πολύαιν᾽ Ὀδυσεῦ, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
νῆα κατάστησον, ἵνα νωιτέρην ὄπ ἀκούσῃς.
οὐ γάρ πώ τις τῇδε παρήλασε νηὶ μελαίνῃ,
πρίν γ᾽ ἡμέων μελίγηρυν ἀπὸ στομάτων ὄπ᾽ ἀκοῦσαι,
ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε τερψάμενος νεῖται καὶ πλείονα εἰδώς.
ἴδμεν γάρ τοι πάνθ᾽ ὅσ᾽ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ
Ἀργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν,
ἴδμεν δ᾽, ὅσσα γένηται ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ.

Come here, much-famed Odysseus, great glory of the Achaians,
stay your ship so that you may hear the voice of the two of us.
For no one yet has passed this way in a black ship
before he heard the honey-sweet voice from our mouths,
but he goes on delighting and knowing more.
For we know all that in broad Troy
the Argives and the Trojans endured by the will of the gods
and we know all that comes to be on the nourishing earth.

Unless you feel like assuming that the Sirens have a different bait for every traveler (mostly this sentence provides me with an excuse to link this Roman relief of a Siren having sex with some dude), their lure is the storyteller’s: they know the truth of things. I’ve made use of this conceit already in my poem “Anthemoessa on the Main Line.” In a funerary context, then, it seems very obvious to me that what they do is remember the dead. Their voices are more beautiful than any human keening and the deceased is never unknown to them: they know all our life stories. They know what really happened. They tell the dead true.

So one of the impetus for this poem was thinking about mourning sirens, the singers of the dead, and how that function fits with the Sirens of epic, who will tell you the story of the world until you die of it. Another was being asked by Elise Matthesen for a poem. And the last was discovering this fifth-century bronze askos in the shape of a siren with a pomegranate in one hand and a syrinx—panpipes—in the other. She was in the Getty Museum when the picture was taken, though she has since been repatriated to Italy on account of being sold illegally. I know she is holding the two symbols of her mythos, music and the underworld. It still looked instantly like she was offering a choice to me.

As to the rest, I really don’t feel the need to explain the discrepancy between two or three Sirens; myth proliferates, it contradicts itself, and it’s healthiest when it’s told in at least two voices. I just found I rather liked the idea that originally there was one Siren on the fatal isle of Anthemoessa and any others chose to join her. Hence the dual in the title: Σειρήνοιϊν, of the two Sirens. Now, anyway.

Amal El-Mohtar reads the poem in the podcast. I am very pleased that this is where it found its home.

Uncanny Magazine Issue 5 Cover and Table of Contents!

All of the content will be available in the eBook version on the day of release.

The free online content will be released in 2 stages- half on day of release and half on August 4.

Don’t forget eBook Subscriptions to Uncanny Magazine are available from Weightless Books, and you can support us on our Patreon.


Uncanny Magazine Issue 5 Table of Contents


Antonio Caparo- “Companion Devices”


The Uncanny Valley

New Fiction

Mary Robinette Kowal – “Midnight Hour” (7/7)
E. Lily Yu- “Woman at Exhibition” (7/7)
Shveta Thakrar- “The Rainbow Flame” (7/7)

Charlie Jane Anders- “Ghost Champagne” (8/4)
Sarah Monette – “The Half-Life of Angels” (8/4)
Delilah S. Dawson- “Catcall” (8/4)


Scott Lynch- “A Year and a Day in Old Theradane” (8/4)


Natalie Luhrs- “Ethics of Reviewing” (7/7)
Sofia Samatar- “Writing Queerly: Three Snapshots” (7/7)

Michael R. Underwood- “21st Century Heroes – Representation in Marvel & DC’s Cinematic Universes” (8/4)
Caitlin Rosberg- “Representation Matters: Embracing Change in Comics” (8/4)


C.S.E. Cooney- “The Saga of Captain Jens” (7/7)
Bryan Thao Worra- “Slices of Failure in Super Science” (7/7)

Sonya Taaffe- “Σειρήνοιϊν” (8/4)


Deborah Stanish Interviews E. Lily Yu (7/7)
Deborah Stanish Interviews Delilah S. Dawson (8/4)

Podcast 5A (7/7)

Mary Robinette Kowal – “Midnight Hour” as read by Amal El-Mohtar
C.S.E. Cooney- “The Saga of Captain Jens” as read by the Author
Deborah Stanish Interviews Mary Robinette Kowal

Podcast 5B (8/4)

Charlie Jane Anders- “Ghost Champagne” as read by C.S.E. Cooney
Sonya Taaffe- “Σειρήνοιϊν” as read by Amal El-Mohtar
A Deborah Stanish Interview

Remembering Peggy Rae Sapienza

Helen Montgomery

I can’t believe that Peggy Rae Sapienza is gone. I got the news while on the train, and managed to mostly hold it together until getting to my office, where I am now just sitting and crying and reading all the beautiful tributes. I had so hoped that she would pull through this, and I’d see her later this year at Worldcon or Smofcon, and she’d be her usual smiling, beautiful self.

I met Peggy Rae during the Chicago in 2008 Worldcon Bid. In 2006, not long after we lost, Peggy Rae came to Chicago. Dave McCarty and I had dinner with her, and she looked at both of us and said “So, what are you going to do for Japan?” Dave ended up as the Events Division Head, and I solicited ads for the program book. Because one simply did not say “no” to Peggy Rae. It was impossible to do so.

Even though we had been bidding for a Worldcon, Peggy Rae actually gave us both our first ever Worldcon jobs.

She was our Fan Guest of Honor in 2012 at Chicon 7, and I am so proud that we were the ones to honor her, especially in light of the role she played for both Dave and I in the Worldcon community.

My deepest condolences and love go out to John Sapienza, Peggy Rae’s family, and her friends. I will miss her more than words can say.


Chuck Serface

I’ve been involved with fandom since 2011, when I joined the Bay Area Science Fiction Association (BASFA). Over my first few months of attending meetings, my new friends convinced me that Worldcon was the place for anyone wishing to learn more about science fiction. I purchased my membership for the then upcoming Chicon 7, and my friend Maurine Starkey invited me to the Hugo Award ceremony and related parties as her escort. What a thrill to get an insider’s look at these doings, to meet Neil Gaiman, and to see Maurine score the Hugo Award for Best Fan Artist. During the evening, Maurine introduced me to another who quickly won my heart, Peggy Rae Sapienza.

Rarely have I connected with any individual so quickly. Peggy Rae and I spent hours over the next two evenings discussing everything imaginable. Obviously, she’d devoted enormous energies to conventions, which I deduced from her stories and from the reverence paid to her by others. Silly me – I hadn’t even realized that she was the Fan Guest of Honor at that Worldcon. She predicted that although I was a latecomer, soon I would evolve into a fan who watched out for others, for the community at large. Her tone revealed her deep commitment to fandom and that she expected no less from me.

After that Worldcon, I again encountered Peggy Rae at several conventions and conferences. We’d dine, and then sequester ourselves for deep conversations. Through Peggy Rae, I became involved in the Nebula Awards weekend, where I presented the Ray Bradbury Award for Outstanding Dramatic Presentation, quite an honor for a fellow who only had wandered in off the streets three years before. Always she added so much to any event we attended together.

A few noticed our rapidly growing friendship and weren’t shy with opinions. Some viewed Peggy Rae as a modern-day Lucrezia Borgia. The majority described her in ways that brought to mind Eleanor Roosevelt. The Borgia camp most likely had experienced the just hand she administered when running conventions, perhaps feeling hurt that certain decisions hadn’t gone their way, failing to understand that it wasn’t personal. The Roosevelt camp appreciated the skills she’d brought to any endeavor she guided. Any fool could see the talent and wisdom she possessed. What a loss to our community her death signifies.

My last contact with Peggy Rae happened by email. She wrote a short note thanking me for advice I’d given regarding sexual harassment at conventions. Two weeks later, Warren Buff informed me that she was facing serious bypass surgery, and I realized her note constituted a goodbye, a “you’re pretty good, Chuck” nod before she began her final step. I regret not answering that email, not reading between the lines, and not knowing about her illness. She knows I’ll atone, however, with my mower’s sharp blades. I have mowed Peggy Rae’s lawn. I’ll do so again. I’ll steer my mower straight and true, leaving even impressions in the grass and never missing a spot. As I stated above, she’d expect no less from me. So, of course, I’ll deliver no less.

Uncanny Magazine Weightless Books Subscription Drive

Uncanny Magazine is recruiting new members for its Space Unicorn Ranger Corps! We named the Uncanny Kickstarter backers the Space Unicorn Ranger Corps after our amazing Space Unicorn mascot. Now, you can become a member of the Corps by subscribing at Weightless Books!

This is the perfect time to join because Uncanny is going on sale! From May 5-19, a year’s subscription to Uncanny Magazine is $2 less than the typical current cover price (only $21.88)! It’s the least expensive way to subscribe we’ve ever offered.

Each bimonthly issue of Uncanny contains new and classic speculative fiction, poetry, essays, art, and interviews.  We seek out and share pieces we can’t stop thinking and talking about, because of how they make us feel. We’re also deeply committed to finding and showcasing fantastic works by writers from every possible point of view and background.

We debuted Issue One of Uncanny in November 2014 and we’re thrilled with Year One. We’ve included contributions from phenomenal authors such as Neil GaimanJim C. HinesMaria Dahvana HeadleyMax GladstoneKen LiuChristopher BarzakSam J. MillerSofia SamatarSarah Pinsker, Catherynne M. Valente, Elizabeth Bear, John Chu, Kameron Hurley, and Amal El-Mohtar, plus many newer voices. We can’t wait for you to read what’s coming next.

Uncanny Magazine Issue 1New or renewing subscribers to Uncanny Magazine from May 5-19, 2015 will be eligible for giveaways and  a whole bunch of Uncanny swag!

  • When we reach a total of 50 new/renewing subscribers we’ll unlock an ebook of Issue One for *every* new/renewing subscriber. Plus, we’ll randomly draw 2 winners for Uncanny swag packs: postcards, a sticker, and a Space Unicorn Ranger Corps patch!
  • At 100 new/renewing subscribers, every new subscriber will receive an ebook of Issue One and Two. Plus, we’ll draw for a set of signed cover-art posters and a Space Unicorn Ranger Corps patch!
  • At 150 new/renewing subscribers, all new/renewing subscribers will receive ebooks of Issue One, Two, and Three (all caught up!), and we’ll draw 2 winners for signed books: The Republic of Thieves MMPB by Scott Lynch and Karen Memoryhardcover by Elizabeth Bear, plus a Space Unicorn Ranger Corps patch for each winner!
  • Uncanny Magazine Issue 2At 200 new/renewing subscribers, we’ll draw for a mega-swag pack that includes postcards, a sticker, a patch, signed cover art, and both signed books!
  • At 300 new/renewing subscribers, we’ll draw for a Samsung Galaxy Tab 4 7.0″ Android tablet, a Space Unicorn Ranger Corps patch, and a sticker!

There may also be random prize drawings throughout the subscription drive. You never know with the Space Unicorns . . .

Don’t miss out: subscribe now!

Uncanny Appearances at C2E2

Space Unicorns! If you’re attending the Chicago Comics and Entertainment Expo (C2E2) (April 24-26) in Chicago this weekend, you have several chances to check out panels featuring some of Uncanny‘s staff and contributors:
Additionally, Uncanny contributor Ytasha L. Womack will be in Artist’s Alley at booth E3 all weekend, and Mary will be signing books on Friday, 5:15-6:16pm at Autograph table 16.
Hope to see you there!

Uncanny Magazine Issue 4 Cover and Table of Contents!

All of the content will be available in the eBook version on the day of release. The free online content will be released in 2 stages- half on day of release and half on June 2.

Don’t forget eBook Subscriptions to Uncanny Magazine are available from Weightless Books.


Uncanny Magazine Issue 4 Table of Contents


Tran Nguyen- “Traveling to a Distant Day”


The Uncanny Valley

New Fiction

Catherynne M. Valente- “Planet Lion”
A.C. Wise- “The Practical Witch’s Guide to Acquiring Real Estate”
John Chu- “Restore the Heart into Love”
Elizabeth Bear- “In Libres”
Lisa Bolekaja- “Three Voices”


Delia Sherman- “Young Woman in a Garden”


Mike Glyer- “It’s the Big One”
Julia Rios- “Top Five Myths about YA”
Kameron Hurley- “I Don’t Care About Your MFA: On Writing vs. Storytelling”
Christopher J Garcia- ““The Force That Was Peggy Rae Sapienza”
Steven H Silver- ““Peggy Rae: Friend, Mentor, Superhero””


Alyssa Wong- “For the Gardener’s Daughter”
Ali Trotta- “From the High Priestess to the Hanged Man”
Isabel Yap- “Apologies for breaking the glass slipper”


John Chu Interviewed by Deborah Stanish
Delia Sherman Interviewed by Deborah Stanish


Podcast 4A
Story- Catherynne M. Valente’s “Planet Lion” as read by Heath Miller
Poem- Alyssa Wong’s “For the Gardener’s Daughter” as read by Amal El-Mohtar
Interview- Deborah Stanish interviews Catherynne M. Valente

Podcast 4B
Story- Elizabeth Bear’s “In Libres” as read by C.S.E. Cooney
Poem- Isabel Yap’s “Apologies for breaking the glass slipper” as read by Amal El-Mohtar