The Philippine Online Chronicles

Clarkesworld is an award-winning science fiction and fantasy magazine first published in October 2006. The magazine, helmed by publisher Neil Clarke and editor Sean Wallace, releases an issue every month containing at least two pieces of original fiction, as well as non-fiction and podcasts. The magazine’s contents are available online for free, but its fiction offerings can also be found in print – collected by issue in signed chapbooks (limited to a minimum of 100 copies at a price of USD14 each) and annually in the magazine’s print anthology, Realms. Both print outputs are published by Wyrm Publishing.

Here is a review of Clarkesworld’s July issue (Issue # 46).

Beach Blanket Spaceship by Sandra McDonald

The story opens with the sounds and sights of summer. High school students with names like Violet Blue and Skipper spill out of the school and jump onto a yellow jeep that will take them to the beach. Riding shotgun is a member of the Air Force, in full NASA spacesuit, even a closed helmet. The man, named Merullo, refuses to undress. When they arrive at the coast, where the weather is always beautiful, the man in the spacesuit looks at the ocean and says, “Computer, exit program.” But nothing happens.

If you paid close attention to the perspective used, you’d know what’s up from the get-go – or at least guess the big reveal halfway through the story. The story is told in second-person plural (“We pile into our convoy of jalopies and woody wagons, the guys bare-chested or wearing Hawaiian shirts, the gals in hot pants and bikini tops, and roll down the road to the golden coast with Danny leading the way.”) then pulls away from the vision of the crowd to describe individual characters. (“Violet Blue adjusts her fur-trimmed bikini and drapes her arms around his neck.”) Merullo is described, the “we” persona looking at the one person that is not part of the gang.

However, Merullo believes that he is trapped in an entertainment reel, and that the teenagers prancing around him are mere “data constructs.” Is this story being told, then, from the point of view of characters that do not exist? Suddenly, the “we” persona goes beyond descriptions of Merullo’s unease and eventual panic, and delves deeper, even describing his dreams. (“He leans back in the sand, trying not to worry about his spaceship, his crew, their mission. His dreams are full of stars and blackness. That too is ridiculous. Real people stuck in Vee-Reels do not dream.”) This is either a sudden shift in POV, or the “we” persona is omniscient.

But this is a beautiful story, and it had my attention from beginning to end. The opening image of a man in a spacesuit lost in a sea of teenagers on summer break grabbed me instantly. Author Sandra McDonald juxtaposes lighthearted antics with real-world fears, the ocean with the travel to a faraway moon, and she tells it straight with nary a note of hysteria. Surf’s up!

This is a wild ride. At the center of the story is Sumith and sumith, Uppercase and Lowercase. The first is a singer of the Code and part of a group of networked singers obsessed with “karma,” or popularity level on the social networking site where their created symphonies are shared and voted upon. The second is the precedent of Sumith, after he “flashed” himself during a bout of depression while creating his music. sumith (note the lowercase), a discarded body, has gone a bit loony, and got it into his head that he wanted to eat his reincarnation. And so he does. sumith creates more sumiths (creating sumith [?] and sumith [!]) and is followed by a “rampage of death,” while Sumith is stuck in a coffin, hooked to the network, asking for help, trying to connect to a firm called Phoenix to file a reincarnation request. But alas, his karma is too low, and people are voting down his profile page, blaming him for all the deaths. He may have to wait for years and years before he can come back.

Zombies and cyberpunk – who’d have thunk it? Fast, surreal, and highly original, it offers a refreshing (albeit frightening) look at the powers of social networking. What if it evolved into an institution of strangers that not only dictated our life, but also dictated our return to it?

The fast pace (Rahul Kanakia doesn’t stop to explain the technology featured in his story) may trip some readers, but reading it again is worth it.

This issue includes two non-fiction pieces: “No End to the Madness,” an interview with artist Scott Eagle by Jeremy L. C. Jones, and “Packing for a Very Long Trip” by Sarah Goslee.

Eagle is perhaps best known to readers as the cover artist for many of Jeff VanderMeer’s books, and is scheduled to teach at Shared Worlds, the creative writing and world building camp for teenagers that Jeff VanderMeer and Jones run at Wofford College. This interview is a treat because it features several of Eagle’s artwork.

I love what Eagle said about critiquing the work of his students: “I am first and foremost interested in a person's motivations, and whether the form is appropriate to the content / intent. For example, every semester I encourage at least one student in my painting class to do things other than paintings. The reason is that if the concept, issues or whatever is motivating a student might best be explored in another medium, or even another dimension, why should I force them to continue putting paint on canvas.”

In her article, Goslee tries to answer the question, “How are we going to take care of ourselves, if ever we leave our planetary home?” The basic requirements of life are provided to us by the environment, but how are we to survive if we shoot ourselves off into the great unknown, and the self-sustaining process suddenly becomes an open loop?

“All of the food, water and oxygen that the crew needs is taken along, and waste is either jettisoned or stored,” Goslee writes. “A single person requires about 8,000 kg of supplies a year, including food (219 kg), oxygen (329 kg), and water for drinking (657 kg) and washing (6972 kg).” That’s a lot to haul off into space, so what if we consider closing the loop via recycling, or mimicking the biological system on Earth? Is this feasible? If so, how long can we stay supported? Goslee explores the possibilities through copious research, which to me made for an interesting read.