Edited by Viviana Annaelise Montez
81 pages
Published 2020
Read from June 14 to June 15
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
The March / April 2023 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction included my first pro-rate print publication. This issue of Prismatica, however, did me the honor of being my very first print publication. Everything I’d gotten published before then had been online only.
I bought my copy of this issue alongside Queer’s One for the Ages; much like that anthology, print copies of this issue are no longer available. I wish I’d bought more when I had the chance.
Also like Queer’s One for the Ages, I hadn’t read it until now. Yay Pride Month for nudging me toward my queer backlist!
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A sheaf of poetry starts off this issue:
“Final Rite” and “…Beyond the Ends of the World” by D. Keali’i MacKenzie.
“Swimming Lessons” by Darcy Isla.
“They” by Susan Butler.
“A Fairy Ring, 2 AM” by Jessica Chan.
“Last Man on Earth” and “Last Woman on Earth” by S. A. Undra.
I particularly loved “…Beyond the Ends of the World” and “A Fairy Ring, 2 AM,” the latter of which might get a response poem from me someday. (I’ve never done a direct response poem and I feel presumptuous even thinking about it, but it’s a common enough feature of poetry, so I’ll try not to let the anxiety show.) A nice beginning!
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Next, the prose:
“Poor Monster (or What You Will): A retelling of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night” by Hale. I’ve read almost nothing of Shakespeare’s. Just Hamlet, in fact. Recently I watched Romeo + Juliet, which basically counts as another one. Lastly, being a fan of fantasy fiction has exposed me to countless reinterpretations of The Tempest. All I know of Twelfth Night is a general sense of gender play. This take on it is notable for its lovely prose and sense of character, doling out Viola / Cesario’s backstory with professional polish and the ache of gender dysphoria. Excellent.
“Her Wine Red Star” by me. A couple weeks ago I found myself rereading this novelette on Prismatica’s website, and had an insight: My stories may not get nominated for awards or get much notice in the trades, but I’ve reached a point in my career where I write stories I enjoy. That’s a big deal to me. Even twelve years ago that would’ve been impossible to imagine. I don’t think it’s conceited to say I enjoyed the hell out of my weird western tale of wizards, rocketship pilots, and bereaved drifters.
“Calm Waters” by C. J. Dotson. Lyssa has had enough of fighting, and partners with her love Niethan to become riverboat traders. But when one of the villages they service gets hit by bandits, and Lyssa’s friend in town gets killed, she reluctantly agrees to fight the bandits, beginning with whoever in town might be feeding the bandits information. This is a well-balanced take on adventure fantasy, mingling coziness and a touch of danger.
“Last Woman” by Lillian Lu. What story better suits the end of 2020 than a modern, queer, neurodivergent riff on Mary Shelley’s The Last Man? Grad student Julianna Hong has come home for the holidays, planning to tell her mother that she’s bi. Instead, she wakes up in December 23 with the power out and every other person gone. And then she begins arguing with God. “Last Woman” is told in Julianna’s diary entries, a narrative device that Lu uses to good effect. An outstanding story that goes unexpected places.
“His Body is the Crucible” by Kit Edgar. An engrossing, morally gray, deliberately opaque tale of making (and being made into) a monster, a reinterpretation of The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that revives its alchemy in the internet age.
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All in all, an excellent offering from the amateur end of the short fiction market.
Each and every one of these stories and poems wouldn’t have been out of place in a pro-paying magazine, yet capitalism did not grace us with enough pro markets to absorb all the worthy writings out there. I’ve said it before, but it’s a goddamn shame that short speculative fiction is at its creative peak at a time when its markets are in economic shambles. In such an environment, I think amateur markets like Prismatica serve a vital function. Who’s to say I would have kept writing, and gotten the pro publications I wound up getting, if it weren’t for small mags like this one?
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