On Representation by Danie Ware

Representation of LGBT characters is changing – and high time. From films like ‘Priest’ and ‘Brokeback Mountain’ which focused on the agony and tragedy of a same-sex relationship, and in a community or society where such a thing was deemed shocking, we’re seeing better and fairer representation of LGBT characters on our screens – Killjoys, for example, or Wynnona Earp, or Legends of Tomorrow

And we’re seeing those changes in fiction, too – that LGBT relationships should just be a part of the overall narrative. There needs to be wider representation, and storylines that treat LGBT characters exactly the same as they treat straight ones – with a whole raft of troubles and plotlines and daemons that have absolutely nothing to do with their sexuality. We should have LGBT stories that are not based in tragedy or denial, stories where ‘being gay’ is not an illustration of being troubled or alone, stories where gay relationships can develop with all the normal hiccups that plague us all, gay, bi, straight, or anything else. When I wrote Children of Artifice, this was something that I really wanted to get right.

I’ve chosen five of my more recent SFF reads, each featuring an LGBT character or relationship, and taken a look at how things are changing – and for the better!

Paul Cornell – London Falling (Shadow Police)

All credit to Paul Cornell, the sheer amount of research that goes into his work is astonishing, and, as this book picks up pace and information, we see the narrative unfold through the eyes of each of the central characters. It’s very cleverly done, and allows a thoroughly detailed, police-procedure plot to take shape with wonderful effect.

As one might expect, Paul’s thread of inclusivity carries on through all three books in the series. Unlike the Morgan, the gay relationship/character is not the focus of the story, rather the sub-plot as Sefton, one of the PoV characters becomes involved with a new boyfriend. And while he has his daemons to battle, the remarkable thing about it is… that it’s so unremarkable. As the relation progresses and they move in together, they ‘re just two people, becoming involved, surrounded by the craziness of the main storylines, and falling in love as they should.

More narratives like this one, please.

Natasha Pulley – The Watchmaker of Filigree Street

If there was a book that I wanted ‘Artifice’ to emulate, then this is the one.

Entwined, subtle, beautifully written and very character driven, it follows a crescendo of events that tear Thaniel, the central character, between multiple loyalties. It’s a delightfully cunning tale – but even with that in mind, its core relationship took me completely by surprise.

And the set-up is just too clever – the sub-plot of Thaniel’s involvement with Grace seems writ large from the beginning. So, the beautiful moment where Thaniel actually reaches out to Mori is so completely unexpected, and has a wit and gentleness to it that just aches with sincerity and insight.

Plus – who doesn’t need a clockwork octopus?

Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner

Violence, politics, sarcasm and deliciously biting courtroom wit – if you like the vicious and genteel savagery of the upper classes, then this is a title not to be mised. It’s also available on audiobook with a full-cast ensemble, and it’s pretty spectacular. And Swordspoint illustrates the case as flawlessly as one might expect.

The title features a gay lead character, Richard St. Vier, and his lover Alec – indeed almost all of the supporting cast seem to be bisexual – but any hint of romance is only ever implied, a part of the colour and richness of the background, and that’s all. They story focuses on the duelling of blade and wit and intrigue, and does so with a polish (and a sarcastic humour) that’s truly glorious.

Station Eleven – Emily St. John Mandel

 A Clarke winner, and deservedly so.

A book about the magic of little things, how tiny touches and moments spin into the critically important, how the smallest of objects becomes precious. A book about how things interconnect, and about how a word can carry across miles and generations.

It’s also book that also has only one straight white male – the narrative’s focus, who dies in the first chapter. And yet Arthur provides the centre of the Venn Diagram that binds the rest of the story together – most notably, Arthur’s best friend Clark, who follows a wonderful narrative arc of his own. From the processions of his youthful lovers, to the normality of having breakast, to finally being the curator of all those obsolete and magical wonders – and re-finding himself (and his youthful haircut) after years of being supressed by society’s expectations…

The important thing to note is that the suppressions were about the mundanity of his ‘normal’ life and nothing to do with his sexuality.

Aliette de Bodard – The House of Binding Thorns

In the second book in the series, following The House of Binding Thorns, Aliette takes us back taking us back to her beautiful, dystopian Paris.

Woven with plot-threads, politics and flashbacks, and threaded through with flickers of Vietnamese myth, this is a story like darkly woven lace, and as intriguing as what lies beneath the waters of the Seine…

And there are whole sequences of LGBT relationships in this book. Gay couples lead both major houses, the characters all completely entwined in the ongoing narrative. And it’s a perfect example of a book where gay relationships are just present – they’re not played for drama, or for cool points, or for shock value.

Countdown to Christmas Day 6

by Michele Fry

I love The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo. I’ve never read a novel written wholly in verse before, so that was a treat, as was Xiomara’s strong, fierce, and powerful voice. I fell in love with Xiomara from the very beginning and was willing her on, wanting her to find a way to voice her feelings and questions, her fears and her experiences of being a young black woman who’s talked over, talked down to, or simply ignored at every turn. This book made me cry, made me cheer, and made me happy to have met Xiomara, a beautiful, brave, black girl. I cannot
recommend it highly enough.

I extra love (!) Passing Strange by Ellen Klages a fascinating and compelling historical love story with supernatural/fantastical elements about a bisexual artist and a lesbian singer. Set in San
Francisco in 1940, it looks at the ways in which queer cis and enby women try to express their queerness and/or nonconformity to the gender binary [sic] while still complying with the law. It’s a tragedy with a happy ending.

The Green Man’s Heir is EVERYTHING I love about Juliet McKenna’s work:
a skilful, careful, and seamless blend of folklore, mythology, and fantasy sensibilities with a modern setting and modern concerns regarding ecological & environmental issues, masculinity, news reporting, and policing, but without a single moment of hectoring or lecturing. And all wrapped up in a compelling tale that will make you want to read all night.

The Black God’s Drums by P. Djèlí Clark is totally immersive (I read it in less than a day), full of well-crafted worldbuilding (of the alternate Black history kind), intriguing mythology, engaging and well-rounded characters whom I found utterly fascinating, and it was at once exactly the right length (for the story it told), but far too bloody short (because I need more, more, MORE (please!) about Jacqueline and Captain Ann-Marie of the airship Midnight Robber.

When the Letter Comes by Mx Sara Fox is a story about magic, growing up, being left behind, becoming someone different, with a transgender protagonist whose younger sister gets invited to go to magical school while Henry (she hasn’t decided on a new name yet, but she will one
day) is left behind. Then a war comes, and Henry meets Caden, who’s non-binary and who brings Henry to where her sister Gabrielle is involved in a war between those who think technology is destroying magic, and those who don’t. And all the time Henry is struggling to feel comfortable in her skin, to accept who she is, and struggling with others, particularly her parents’, difficulties with accepting who she is. This is a beautiful, compelling short story that gripped me from the first line.

Petra MacDonald available now!

Leave out a saucer of milk, hang a horse shoe over the door, sprinkle a little iron round your doors and windows. The Queen of the Fae is coming. 

We are delighted to announce the release of the latest novella by Shona Kinsella ‘Petra MacDonald and the Queen of the Fae’ with cover art by Tabatha Stirling.

Petra MacDonald is a bisexual, pagan artist who lives and works on a small Scottish island. While in a trance, she paints a young girl who has been abducted by the Queen of the Fae and it falls to Petra to save her. 
 
She must travel Faery, collect three items for the Queen, escape the sex spell of the Selkie prince and steal the loyalty of her fae guard. 
 
Can she bring the child home before it’s too late?

Opening paragraphs

‘It was dusk when Petra came out of her trance, her arm sore from wielding the brush. Her hands were covered in paint and she could feel speckles drying on her face. She looked at the canvas and frowned. She had painted a young girl, facing away from the viewer, shoulders slumped and head down. That was unusual; Petra rarely painted people during trance work, except those she knew.
Even more notable was the menacing feeling of the painting. Shadows crowded around the child, claw-like shapes reaching towards her. As Petra studied the canvas she noticed the glint of eyes, peering towards the girl who hunched away from them.’