Goblin Hero, by Jim C. Hines (Daw, 2007)

Jig the goblin is back, and this time he’s getting a little hell from his . . . well, goblins don’t have friends. Let’s call them allies. If allies are prone to stabbing you in the back, or shoving you down a well, or feeding you to a dragon. Yeah. Jig’s in trouble, as usual. He thought he could go back to a nice, quiet life after his last unwilling adventure, but he was wrong. Threatened by Jig’s newfound usefulness and ability to heal (courtesy of the not-so-forgotten god Tymalous Shadowstar), Kralk, the goblin chief, sends him on a “mission of mercy” to the rival ogres, who specifically requested Jig’s help. Seems they’re having trouble of the magical variety, and they need a Hero of the Jig sort. So off Jig goes, accompanied by Graf, a goblin almost too stupid to live, and Grell, who’s spent untold years caring for goblin young. Following them in secret is Veka, a would-be goblin Hero and her reluctant hobgoblin ally, Slash.

Ultimately, this motley band of unlikely champions have to journey deep into the depths of their mountain home in order to unravel an insidious plot that could destroy them all. Because it seems when Jig slew a dragon and defeated a Necromancer, he accidentally opened the path for an even worse threat to enter this world, and their newfound enemies won’t stop until everything inside the mountain is enslaved or dead. For this challenge to be met, everyone — goblin, hobgoblin and ogre — will have to work together. Worse, they’ll have to do it under the dubious leadership of Jig, who eventually (and accidentally) assumes the role of goblin chief. This is definitely a recipe for disaster, especially after one of Jig’s so-called allies changes sides. . . .

Goblin Hero is the entertaining followup to the first in the series, Goblin Quest. Once again, Jim C. Hines turns the fantasy world on its ear with this insightfully hilarious look at the traditional cannon fodder of the genre. They may be small, vicious, and untrustworthy, but Hines proves there’s more than enough cunning and resourcefulness in your average goblin to carry quite the enjoyable story. Hines deconstructs the role of the epic fantasy hero masterfully, keeping things light without ever actually crossing into outright parody, as would be tempting to do in this situation. Jig, the extremely reluctant protagonist, shows more virtue in his basic survival instincts and common sense than most traditional fantasy heroes ever muster, so you can’t help but root for the little guy. Hines walks a fine line between self-aware fantasy and comedy, and succeeds in presenting an honestly enjoyable story, mixing adventure and humor. If nothing else, Goblin Hero succeeds in giving us a new kind of protaganist, whose allies are as much a hazard to him as his enemies are. This is a fantasy for those weary of epic quests and seven-book-long sagas.

Baltimore: or The Steadfast Tin Soldier and the Vampire, by Mike Mignola and Christopher Golden (Bantam Spectra, 2007)

In the darkest days of World War I, Lord Henry Baltimore, then a Captain in the English Army, watches his men fall in battle. Himself injured, he barely fights off a nocturnal predator, and in doing so, unleashes the unholy wrath of a vampire, and sparks a disturbing plague across Europe.

Years later, as the plague ravishes the continent, three of Baltimore’s closest allies — Captain Demetrius Aischros, Doctor Lemuel Rose, and Mister Thomas Childres, Junior — are summoned to a lonely, foreboding inn where they are to await Baltimore’s arrival. There, surrounded by the stench of death and those waiting to die, the three men trade stories. One by one, they fill in the vital gaps in Baltimore’s history, each man having encountered Baltimore at some point or another, quickly realizing that their old friend and colleague has changed, and not for the better. One by one, they relate eerie stories of their encounters with the horrific and the supernatural, the experiences which made them ready to believe Baltimore’s grim story of vampires and evil stalking humanity. And then, as they learn more of Baltimore’s obsession and hopeless quest to rid the world of the vampire which cursed him, they’re drawn into an epic struggle for survival, one which will leave them changed forever.

Baltimore is a spooky, atmospheric, Gothic series of interwoven tales that’s sure to make an impression upon the reader. From the nightmarish, disjointed beginning among the bloodsoaked trenches of World War I, to an inn haunted by the barely living, to the violent, heartbreaking conclusion, it paints a gruesome picture of the darker corners of the world. It actually invokes an old, time-honored storytelling convention, that of the group of people sitting around swapping their own tales, something which could easily become tiresome, were it not handled by such a skilled creative team. Sin trees, evil giant puppets, vampires, lake-dwelling abominations, a disgraced priest, cursed soldiers and vengeful spirits all have their parts to play here, interspersed with imagery and quotations drawn from the titular fairy tale, “The Steadfast Tin Soldier.”

At first, I was dubious about this book. Christopher Golden is an excellent writer with a mastery of dark fantasy and horror, while Mike Mignola, best known for his Hellboy comics, has a unique visual style, but this seemed to be something of an experiment for them both. The prologue, in which Baltimore meets his supernatural nemesis, is not the easiest part of the book to get through, but upon reflection, it really does capture the bloody, vicious, haunting moment in style. However, it was my biggest stumbling block in getting into the story. Once we were introduced to the Surgeon, the Sailor, and the Soldier (as the chapter headings address the three) and their stories were allowed to unfold, I was swiftly drawn into the narrative. Each man gets two stories: one dealing with his experiences with Baltimore, the other with a previous encounter with the supernatural, and in that manner, I was reminded of a bizarre modern-day invocation of the Canterbury Tales. The stories are imaginative, memorable, and disturbing, as the men speak of the evils they’ve survived (for there’s very little vanquishing to be found here), and drawn from from various cultural influences to make for a wide-ranging tapestry. Baltimore’s own narrative, told in the form of diary entries, is just as chilling in its own way, as he attempts to rid the world of vampires. Festooned with guns and swords and other weapons, his wooden leg covered with nails to symbolize his victories to date, he’s an ominous, imposing hero, a vampire hunter who would make one hell of a visual for a film or animated feature, especially when given the opportunity to cut loose in battle.

Mignola’s artwork is liberally splashed across the pages throughout the book. It’s a unique visual style, moody and bleak, relying on heavy use of shadows to suggest, rather than show through details. I wish there had been more full-page pieces, for many of the smaller images which serve to amplify the words on the page are simply too small, and don’t satisfy the imagination like the larger ones do. One full-page depiction of Baltimore himself in shadow is quite stunning indeed.

Golden and Mignola make a good team, as witnessed by their previous collaborations (Golden’s written a few Hellboy novels) and Baltimore is certainly a success for them both. It may have its flaws, but all in all, once I got into it, I couldn’t stop reading, eager to find out what manner of twisted horror would be thrown at the characters next, and whether they’d see a victory over the vampires terrorizing the world. All I can say that for these men, a happily ever after isn’t entirely on the books, even if they do survive the final encounter. So despite my initial hesitations regarding this book, I’m happy to say that Baltimore is well worth checking out, especially if you happen to like your stories dark, disturbing, and Gothic.

The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror #15, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin's Griffin, 2002)

If someone were to assign awards to the roundup of Year’s Best books that invariably grace the shelves during the middle of each year, those volumes edited by Silverberg or Hartwell or Datlow and Windling or other sundry people, then it’s a sure bet the Datlow/Windling collection, now a most respectable fifteen volumes in strength, would be a shoo-in for the MVP award. Or perhaps Best In Show. And by that, I mean that while any collection can take a dozen or two dozen stories published in the previous year and assign them such qualities as to call them “the best,” only this particular collection goes above and beyond, nay, transcends duty with its accomplishments.

For therein lies the truth. Anyone can make up a Year’s Best list of stories. Tastes are subjective and personal enough that no one will agree with all of the stories all of the time. What one editor might consider worthy, another might dismiss. What one reader might devour, another might yawn at. Terri Windling has the right of it in this volume when she states, “Fantasy readers are the winners here, presented annually with the treasures provided by two anthologies, each covering somewhat different ground.” She wrote this in relation to the launch of the David Hartwell and Kathryn Cramer Year’s Best series, but it can just as easily be applied to the Robert Silverberg-edited volume, or even to the Gardner Duzois companion volume also released by St. Martin’s which covers the Year’s Best Science Fiction.

This lengthy introduction, thus, is my disclaimer: All stories collected henceforth in this volume are done so with an editorial bias, and may or may not be the best as you, or I, or anyone else, sees them. This is by no means a bad thing. Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling haven’t made it this far for no good reason. They are supremely skilled at sifting through anthologies, magazines, e-zines, journals, and publications both widespread and obscure, selecting rare treasures, hidden gems, overlooked works, and things that the average reader likely never saw in print the first time around. So to begin with, you’ll find any number of stories or poems for the first time within these pages.

Certain names are all but guaranteed to be in the table of contents. Charles de Lint is a mainstay of the series; this year, it’s his werewolf love story, “Trading Hearts at the Half Kaffe Cafe” that makes the cut, pulled from the anthology Single White Vampire Seeks Same . Maybe not one of his best ever, but a typically strong, enjoyable story nonetheless. Michael Chabon, best known for mainstream works like The Amazing Adventures of Cavalier and Klay, is represented with “The God of Dark Laughter”, taken from The New Yorker. Jane Yolen’s “The Barbarian and the Queen: Thirteen Views” is an oddly surreal piece first published in Starlight 3, edited by Patrick Nielsen Hayden. Ursula K. LeGuin’s “The Bones of the Earth” first appeared in her own collection, Tales from Earthsea. Tanya Huff’s “Oh, Glorious Sight” was first seen in the anthology Oceans of Magic. Meanwhile, Elizabeth Hand’s darkly erotic, oddly disturbing story, “Cleopatra Brimstone,” comes from the boundary-straining anthology, Redlight.

There’s more, much more. Gene Wolfe, Barry N. Malzberg, Graham Joyce and S.P. Somtow. Caitlin Kiernan, Gregory Maguire, Gala Blau, and Kelly Link. The stories come from SCIFI.COM, Interzone, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, Strangehorizons.com, literary journals and poetry journals, anthologies and single-author collections, chapbooks and online magazines. They’re collected from genre publications, mainstream publications, and things that can’t even be classified. With dozens of authors and just as many works to choose from, running the gamut of fantasy and horror and the uncomfortable spaces overlapping between, there’s enough to please just about any tastes, even as one shakes his head and wonders what anyone ever saw in Story X. It’s certainly one of the biggest, most fascinating, most eclectic Year’s Bests out there, considering as it does so many different sources.

In honesty, the stories are almost like an afterthought compared to the prologue. Only a volume like this could dedicate five hundred pages to fiction, and another one hundred and twenty-some to summing up the year in general. It’s like the cream filling in an Oreo: the best part, one that can be savored on its own.

As always, Terri Windling produces a scholarly, extensively thorough look at the year in fantasy. From her opinions on the top twenty books (in alphabetical order), to note-worthy first novels, from imaginary world fantasy to contemporary fantasy, from historical to humorous, from mainstream to other genres, she looks at dozens of books, giving them each a brief blurb of commentary, honest to a fault. When she likes it, she’ll say so. When something needs improvement, it’s noted as well. She covers children’s fantasy (a new favorite sub-genre of mine), single-author collections, anthologies, magazines (on the bottom of page xxxvi, Green Man gets a blurb), art, picture books, nonfiction, folklore and fairy tales, music, and awards. Can I just say that this summary could double as a shopping list for any fantasy buff? It’s that extensive. I’m of a mind to go hunting.

Not to be outdone, Ellen Datlow tackles the subject of horror in 2001. Her lengthy essay covers every facet of horror, from books to magazines (my disappointment was in not seeing vampire magazine Dreams of Decadence get a nod), art to anthologies (and she was particularly, honestly, harsh on the quality and effectiveness of a few of these; my favorite quote, regarding Bubbas of the Apocalypse, was “hey, why don’t we put on a show in this ole barn and invite some of our friends?” I have this anthology. Ask nice, I may review it someday). Of particular usefulness is the listing of small press addresses she includes at the end of the summary.

Edward Bryant sums up the year in the media. His purview is “Media of the Fantastic,” meaning he looks at fantasy, horror, even science fiction as it pertains to permutations such as movies, television, and even toys. Again, useful. Again, thorough. By no means as comprehensive as the other essays, it still manages to give a pretty good look at how the field has been represented in live action, animation, and at the box office.

New to the Year’s Best series this year is famed artist Charles Vess, whose collaboration with Neil Gaiman produced Stardust, and whose four-issue comic book series The Book of Ballads and Sagas hasn’t gotten nearly enough attention. This, naturally, makes him ideal to review fantasy and horror in comics. To be honest, he cheats a little; not everything he mentions came out in 2001. In fact, he starts off with a brief history of the field as it applies to the genre, by way of orienting his readers. For a comic afficiendo like myself, this section is both enlightening (oh, that looks good) and frustrating (how the heck did I miss that?). Here’s hoping Vess sticks around for future volumes.

Also new to the series is noted author Joan D. Vinge, who tackles the twin topics of manga and anime, which have been enjoying a fast-growing popularity in America for some time now. (Between the Cartoon Network’s wholesale importing of series, and the Sailor Moon/Pokemon crazes, that popularity has become more of an obsession, in my opinion.) She’s kind enough to write her column as though to the uninitiated, starting off with a series of Frequently Asked Questions. Things like “Why do so many characters look like Americans?” and “What’s with all the T and A?” and “So about those delicate, beautiful young men…” So I paraphrased just a little. She’s very good at clueing in the newcomer, before launching into a discussion of what’s worthwhile, where to find it, and how to learn more about it. Anime and manga have irrevocably become part of the fantasy/horror/science fiction field, so it’s good to see a collection like this acknowledge the fact.

Finally, series packager and respected editor in his own right, James Frenkel, has the last word on the last words of those who’ve gone to the great convention in the sky, with the regular obituary column. Every year, the field loses a sobering number of those who were crucial, or related to it, and he pays his respects. In 2001, we saw the passings of Poul Anderson, Douglas Adams, William Hanna (of Hanna-Barbera animation fame), Gordon Dickson, Jenna Felice (a Tor Books editor who was much beloved by those who worked with her), Dan DeCarlo (best known for creating Josie and the Pussycats) and dozens more, from publishing, film, fandom, comics, and more. The scope of Frenkel’s attention on who is, was, and used to be part of the field in all its many manifestations is both impressive and disturbing; how many of these people have we even heard of today? But as he puts it, “Perhaps you’ll find inspiration in the works of those whose names aren’t familiar.”

After all that, at the end of the book, we have the Honorable Mentions, for those books and stories that were deemed worthy of mention, but which couldn’t be included for other reasons, such as space consideration. At 250,000 words, the book already weighs in fairly heavily. That Datlow and Windling take the time to list all these others is astounding.

Last but not least, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the typically gorgeous cover by Thomas Canty, who’s done quite a bit towards helping present the series as a uniform whole. The only problem I see with the covers he’s provided for each volume is that, after a while, they all start to look alike from a distance. But that’s a small price to pay for the exquisite job he does each year.

In the end, The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror Fifteen is as strong as the rest in the series. Word for word, you get more for your money than any other Year’s Best collection on the shelf, with the assorted summaries being well worth the price just on their own merits. I recommend this book without hesitation, especially if you have any interest in the field beyond just reading stories.

Terri Windling has a Web site, The Endicott Studio, which Green Man highly urges you to check out. Charles Vess can be found at www.greenmanpress.com, which is another reason for us to like him. Ellen Datlow is currently the editor for Scifiction.com. You can check out the St. Martin’s Web site at www.stmartins.com . While our reviews of Datlow and Windling collections are too numerous to be mentioned here, you may access them all from our “authors” index page. Also see our interview with Terri Windling. Ellen Datlow has a most excellent Web site here.

The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror #14, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin's Press, 2001)

As I may have noted before, to put together a collection of stories, or what have you, and call it the best, you’re really making a certain subjective statement. Everyone’s opinion about the best differs. Some of the most critically acclaimed stories are the ones I find the least enjoyable. A certain editor and publisher I know might insist that it’s not the best if stories he published in his magazines weren’t present. Take two editors, give them the same assignment, and find an overlap of maybe 20%, tops.

That’s why it’s so impressive that every year, Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow can put together the massive collections of The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, which turns fourteen this year with yet another thorough investigation and retrospective of the previous year’s output. And with the traditional gorgeous cover art by Thomas Canty, it’s hard to miss.

A quick scan of the contents page would reveal dozens of short stories and poems, ranging the gamut of fantasy, dark fantasy, horror, and all the gray areas in between. A random sampling of authors reveals that the “year’s best” includes Harlan Ellison, Charles de Lint, Neil Gaiman, Jane Yolen, Jonathan Carroll, Francesca Lia Block, Nalo Hopkinson, and Tanith Lee. But lesser-known lights come to the front as well, such as Bolivian author Claudia Adriazola, and Glen Hirshberg. You don’t need a membership card to get into this particular club, just a story or poem worthy of the editor’s attention.

And that’s the beautiful and best thing about these yearly collections of the bizarre, fantastical, disturbing, and thought-provoking. I read a lot. I read several dozen anthologies a year, numerous magazines, books beyond counting. And I’ve seen maybe a quarter, at most, of the works present in this volume. I somehow missed Ghost Writing: Haunted Tales of Contemporary Writers. I’ve never heard of Horror Garage or Imagination, Fully Dilated (Volumes I or II!). I don’t read the New Yorker, generally. Or the Iowa Review or the Colorado Review or even the New England Review. What The Year’s Best gives you, then, is a sampling of stories you likely never would have found on your own. Obscure gems, treasures in the rough, genre stories that strayed outside the normal lines and into mainstream. New works by favorite writers, and newer works by writers you’ve never heard of. And that’s the first reason why I find the Windling and Datlow collections so enjoyable: they always manage to turn up things I never would have found on my own, and dollars to donuts I’ll enjoy the majority of them. Doubtful that I’d enjoy them all, since tastes do differ. But what I like, it’s -good-.

There’s another reason, though, why this book is such a useful resource. And that’s the hundred plus pages of summations, obituaries, and the year’s roundup that precedes the actual stories. That’s right, in addition to over five hundred pages of short stories, novellas, and poems, you also get all this bonus material. Sounds like an infomercial offer, doesn’t it? Too good to be true? Not at all. It’s all part of the package.

As always, Terri Windling starts off with one of the most in-depth, thorough, knowledgeable essays on the state of fantasy in such categories as Top Twenty, First Novels, Urban Fantasy, Imaginary World Novels, Mythic Fiction, Humor, Oddities, Children’s Fantasy, Single-Author Collections, Anthologies, Magazines, Poetry, Art, Mythology and Folklore, Awards and more. Dozens, nay hundreds, of items worth checking out, hunting down, borrowing, buying, or stealing.

This is the sort of investigation that must take forever to do properly, no matter how many of the items in question might be sent her way to begin with.

But wait, there’s more! Ellen Datlow follows that tough act to beat with her own summation of Horror in the year 2000. Awards, Novels, Anthologies, Reprint Collections, Poetry, Artists, Magazines, Nonfiction, Small Press Addresses, and more. If anything, she’s just as thorough and scholarly as Windling, and details enough material to make any horror aficionado drool with delight.

Edward Bryant chimes in with Fantasy and Horror in the Media, tackling the way Hollywood handles and interprets everything from historical fantasy to vampires to comic books to television, and more still. He even pulls out the independents that are worth a look. Seth Johnson takes a look at how comic books dealt with the subjects, pointing out the best, most intelligent, and most enjoyable of the lot. Finally, James Frenkel gives us the literary equivalent of the Montage of Honor at the Academy Awards, listing all of those people associated with fantasy and horror in all their many forms who passed on in the year 2000. It’s a sad topic, but he treats it with dignity and respect, paying homage to all those who’ve told their last story. He touches upon the lives and achievements of L. Sprague de Camp, Edward Gorey, Don Martin, Carl Barks, Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., Sir Alec Guinness, Steve Reeves, Jim Varney, and so many more. A moment of silence, please.

With a collection this size, it’s hard to pick out the best or most noteworthy. But a few pieces did make me stop and think, or shudder, or reread them again and again. Of special interest, then, are Glen Hirshberg’s “Mr. Dark’s Carnival,” which treats us to a town where Halloween takes on a special, intimate meaning, and a mysterious carnival has the power to change lives forever; Terry Dowling’s “The Saltimbanques,” which deals with Australian myth, and the loss of innocence, and growing up; Ben Pastor’s “Achilles’ Grave,” which looks at a peculiar encounter during World War One between a British soldier and a German, and the bond they form when they summon the dead; Ramsey Campbell’s “No Strings,” a nightmarish account of the fate of a late night DJ; Charles de Lint’s “Granny Weather,” which brings back one of his popular characters, Sophie Etoile, for another journey into the other worlds; Harlan Ellison’s “Incognita, Inc,” a truly memorable story about where all those mysterious maps come from, and what happens when we no longer need to find our way to Oz or Xanadu.

And as a sidenote, did I mention the Honorable Mentions? That’s right. More pages filled with lists of other stories and poems that were noteworthy, but couldn’t be squeezed in.

I can’t say much more than to reiterate, in no uncertain terms, that The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror, Volume Fourteen is one of those absolutely indispensable offerings that any true lover of fantasy and/or horror should pick up. It’s well worth the price, and will serve you well.

The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror #13, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling (St. Martin's Griffin, 2000)

“Good evening, Ms. Datlow, Ms. Windling. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to compile a volume dealing with the best of the fantasy and horror genres for the year 1999. Not only must you pick out the best short fiction of the year, you must also provide rundowns and wrap-ups of the genres as applied to movies, television, magazines, the Internet, comic books, music, and more.

“You may pick additional members of your team as necessary. Assistant editors Richard and Mardelle Kunz. Library scout Bill Murphy. The noted artist Thomas Canty. Editor/packager James Frenkel. St. Martin’s editor Gordon Van Gelder. The folks at Endicott Studio.

“We predict you’ll need a large team to properly carry out your mission.

“As always, if you or any of your team are captured or killed, SFWA will disavow any knowledge of your actions. This contract will self-destruct in five seconds.”

Every year, editors Terri Windling and Ellen Datlow scour the globe to bring us the best examples of fantasy and horror fiction. This volume of their annual quest is lucky number thirteen, and most assuredly doesn’t disappoint.

Certainly, it’s not an easy job. There’s just so much produced… scattered amongst magazines, anthologies, collections, and media… that it’s hard to believe anyone could keep track of it all. Yet somehow, they succeeded. The fiction offered in the Year’s Best has been collected from a wide variety of sources, from Realms of Fantasy to the Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy, from Prairie Schooner to The Hudson Review, from convention programs to chapbooks, from single-author collections to anthologies. While many stories come from genre magazines, just as many stem from out-of-the-way sources that most fantasy readers would never even dream of looking at.

Not only does Year’s Best offer the best by way of fiction, it devotes extensive space to offering yearly roundups of the field in other media. Summations. Top Twenty. First Novels. Urban Fantasy. Imaginary World Fantasy. Historical and Alternate Worlds. Mythic Fiction. Humorous Fantasy. Mainstream. Oddities. Animal Tales. Children’s Fantasy. Single-Author Collections. Anthologies. Poetry. Comic Books. Magazines. Art Books. Nonfiction. Mythology and Folklore. Music. Conventions and Awards.

And that was just the write-up for fantasy. Terri Windling is one of the most knowledgeable editors in the field regarding fantasy, and she proves once again that she knows her stuff. If it happened, she’s got it covered here, pointing out hundreds of books and stories and the like that are worthy of notice. It’s worth picking up Year’s Best for the summaries alone, as Windling adeptly turns the spotlight on all manner of hidden or overlooked treasures.

Ellen Datlow does the same for the horror field, speaking knowledgeably about such categories as Books and Magazines, Novels, Anthologies, Collections, Artists, Small Presses, and the like. Though she has fewer categories overall than Windling, she goes into the same sort of skillfully written details regarding her chosen field. If it’s worth mentioning, and related to horror or really dark fantasy, chances are you’ll find a brief write-up in her section.

Not to be outdone, Edward Bryant turns in a study of fantasy and horror as relating to the media. Movies, in all their many forms, from the bad B-Movies to the greatest blockbusters to the quirks of animation, are his focus, although he also looks at television and even music. (The Dixie Chicks? Go figure.)

Seth Johnson contributes a relatively shorter piece on comics, which are by their very nature a welcome haven for fantasy and horror. This being one of my favorite fields, it’s nice to see comics getting noticed for more than superheroes and spandex.

James Frenkel, the creator of the Year’s Best concept, turns in one of the sadder essays of each volume, the Obituaries. Each year, we have to cope with losing people involved in the field, and it’s fitting that they should be paid one last bit of tribute here. The major names that passed on in 1999 included Shel Silverstein and Marion Zimmer Bradley, as well as Stanley Kubrick, Joseph Heller, and John Broome. But Frenkel also lists dozens of others who have had an impact on the field, no matter how small. Authors, editors, artists, actors, producers, cinematographers, even stuntmen, critics, booksellers and long-time fans. Anyone who made their mark has been honored here.

After all of that (and believe it if you will, but everything up to this point is numbered in Roman numerals, up to cxxvi!), we finally get to the stories. The lead fiction piece is a haunting, evocative new Earthsea tale, “Darkrose and Diamond,” from Ursula K. Le Guin, a prime example of the quality that’s the hallmark of the Year’s Best series.

After that, there’s Ian MacLeod’s “The Chop Girl,” which is about ghosts and jinxes in the superstitious setting of a British airfield during World War II. Part love story, part ghost story, it’s beautiful and sorrowful at the same time.

Kelly Link turns in “The Girl Detective,” a surreal story which takes the very best of Nancy Drew, fairy tales, myth, and pop culture, throws it in a blender with some ice, mixes, and serves chilled with a lemon slice. There is no possible way to properly explain this one, save to say that it starts in all the obvious places, and ends in a tree.

There’s a story from Patricia McKillip, plucked from the Datlow/Windling collection, Silver Birch, Blood Moon, a bizarre and sensual retelling of the Princess and the Frog fairy tale. Kim Newman, known for his series of alternate-world Dracula novels, is represented with “You Don’t Have to Be Mad…” Gene Wolfe’s “The Tree Is My Hat” shows that this particular author’s still in fine style. Neil Gaiman gives us “Keepsakes and Treasures: A Love Story,” which is typically bizarre and thought-provoking. Love him or hate him, Gaiman is incapable of mediocrity. Jane Yolen contributes a poem entitled “Old Merlin Dancing on the Sands of Time.” Charles de Lint produces

“Pixel Pixies,” a chapbook which unites several of his popular characters, including Holly Rue and her used bookstore, the Wordwood, and the Kelledys. Would that every bookstore had a hob to keep it clean and tidy!

Those are just a very few of the many splendid, excellent stories and poems which fill this volume of the Year’s Best. With literally dozens to choose from, both big name authors and the most obscure of talents, there’s something to suit everyone’s taste and then some.

It’s impossible to read this book and remain stuck within your old boundaries. Datlow and Windling draw from such varied and esoteric sources that you’re bound to be exposed to something new and different. After thirteen such books, they’re unquestionably experts in the field, the authorities of note on what’s not just good, but exceptional, noteworthy, and unique. If it’s included in this book, it’s head and shoulders above almost anything else published in the fantasy and horror fields. They don’t just select good stories, they select ones that represent the endless room for variation and exploration and experimentation found in the genre. It’s not enough to be well-written, it has to have some sort of merit.

I can’t find anything bad to say about Year’s Best. It’s one of those books I’ve come to depend upon year after year to serve as a tour guide through the realms of fantastic and horrific literature of the year past. I might not like every story contained within, but I can’t fault their inclusion. Individual tastes make every anthology something of a crapshoot, and as always, your mileage may vary. But I will recommend The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror #13 wholeheartedly and without reservation. For the price, it gives you more than your money’s worth every time, both in fiction and in the aforementioned yearly summaries.

So what’re you waiting for? I’ll let you discover for yourself just what Datlow and Windling have to say about 1999. (As Windling notes, it was a disappointing year for novel-length fiction, but only because 1998 was a banner year, and many of the best authors who released books that year were thus absent from the new release shelves in 1999.) But you can discover all that and more in Year’s Best #13, available just about everywhere by now. Enjoy.

The Dresden Files (SciFi Channel, 2007; Fox DVD, 2008)

As I write this, I’ve watched the debut episode “Birds of a Feather” of The Dresden Files (starring Paul Blackthorne as the titular character) four times. I’ve finally managed to organize my thoughts on the matter. As a longtime fan of the novels this show is based upon, I was both excited and nervous to learn that the books had been optioned by the SciFi channel, which, to be honest, isn’t exactly known for its quality adaptations of literary properties, nor for the outstanding nature of its original TV-movies. As much as I wanted to see Harry Dresden done on screen, I knew the chances of a faithful, quality translation from book to television were low. I mean, come on, they screwed up Riverworld, for Pete’s sake! So I settled in to watch the first episode and tried to keep my mind open.

The basic concept remains the same as in the books: Harry Dresden is a wizard for hire, who advertises himself as such in the Chicago phonebook. He’s regularly tapped to assist or consult on bizarre cases by the Chicago police, most often by Lieutenant Murphy. He goes up against every manner of supernatural menace imaginable, often in an effort to protect the innocent and make the world a little safer. In these efforts he’s advised by a skull-dwelling spirit named Bob, who acts as a combination lab assistant and reference library. Harry’s basic family information hasn’t changed; his father was a stage magician, his mother died under mysterious circumstances. Heck, they even kept in Harry’s past with his former mentor, Justin DuMorne.

All of that is true to the books, but they did take liberties. When Bob appears, he’s an actual ghost (quite skillfully portrayed by Terrence Mann). Lieutenant Murphy’s first name is now Connie, and she’s played by Valerie Cruz, a Cuban-American actress — as opposed to the books, where Murphy is a petite blonde of Irish descent. Harry’s car, the much-beloved Blue Beetle, has changed from a VW Beetle to an old Jeep. Instead of living in a basement, Harry seems to have an actual apartment and his office is accessible right off the street. And the more I think about it, all of these are cosmetic changes that do nothing to affect the greater story. The heart and spirit of the series is present, and that’s what counts.

This first episode serves as an adequate introduction to the series, even though this was not the intended pilot episode. Harry’s in fine form as he attempts to unravel a bizarre magical murder, outwit a powerful evil and protect a child from the forces that would use or destroy him. I do wonder at how quick Harry is to initially dismiss his erstwhile client’s worries; after all, he better than anyone should know that even a kid’s ‘monsters under the bed’ can be real. But once he gets involved, he’s classic Harry: stubborn, determined, clever, and prone to being smacked around by nasties. Paul Blackthorne doesn’t make the strongest Harry around — James Marsters (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) was once considered to be a strong contender for the role, in part due to his narration of the audiobook adapations by Buzzy Multimedia — but Blackthorne is the sort of actor who grows on you after a while. What’s important is that he radiates a would-be heroic sincerity mixed with world-weariness, and in doing so the Harry Dresden spirit shines through more often than not.

Valerie Cruz comes off somewhat weak by comparison as Murphy, but I have every confidence she’ll grow into the role. She and Blackthorne still seem to be finding the right level of chemistry that the characters demand (after all, in the series Murphy is a potential love interest on occasion.) On the other hand, Terrence Mann is Bob the Skull, with an arrogant British superiority in his tone, radiating a fine mixture of reluctant subservience and irreverence. Were he just a voice, he’d be perfect. As a ghost, he brings plenty more to the role, including a full range of expressions. In my opinion, they really did the right thing in expanding his nature.

The plot itself is pure Dresden, right down to the involvement of such supernatural nasties as shapeshifting ravens and a skinwalker. While it would have been nice to see Harry use more of his magic, the show strikes the right balance between his mundane resources and his supernatural ones, and his final resolution to the problem at hand does smack of Dresden’s ‘blow things up when necessary’ nature. Thanks to the flashbacks to Harry’s youth, we’ve definitely gotten a good look at the events which made him the man he is today, with some hints at things to come.

There’s a lot I haven’t touched upon: Harry’s contact within the High Council (White Council in the books) who acts as a living search function for their records, the typical Dresden luck (he’s the sort of guy whose car gets booted for parking in the wrong place), the creepy nature of the skinwalker, and so forth.

But what really matters is one question: “Is this show any good?”

And thus it’s time to render a verdict. Yes, The Dresden Files is a good show. It’s not perfect, it’s not spectacular, and it’s not exactly what we might have been expecting. But it’s as faithful as it can be within the scope of accessibility, practicality, and logistics. For all intents and purposes, this is The Dresden Files translated to television. “Birds of a Feather” is a good start, and I’ll continue to watch the series as long as it can maintain this level (or greater) of dedication and entertainment.

Sharper Than A Serpent’s Tooth, by Simon R. Green (Ace, 2006)

In the Nightside, that deep, dark, rotten heart of London where it’s always 3 a.m. and Darwin plays a sadistic game of survival of the fittest, there are few beings as infamous as John Taylor. Private detective by choice, potential savior or destroyed by destiny, son of a mortal man and the mythical Lilith, he’s a force of un-nature to be reckoned with. Admittedly, he’d rather just mind his own business. He tried that once. It didn’t work. The Nightside drug him back in, kicking and screaming, and he’s stayed there ever since, handling some of the most bizarre cases imaginable. But the fecal matter has just hit the revolving blades, big-time. See, for the longest time, he didn’t know who his mother was. Then he found out who she was, why his father went mad, and why shadowy enemies from the future keep trying to kill him. Then John Taylor, along with his sometimes-partner Shotgun Suzie, took a trip back in time to visit pivotal points in the Nightside’s past, ultimately arriving at the very start, where they discovered why the Nightside was created, and why it’s destined to be destroyed one day.

That brings us to today, when John Taylor has sworn to do everything in his power to protect the Nightside from the power of its creator, his dear old mother, Lilith. You thought things were messy before? Let’s talk epic.

Angels. Demons. Heroes. Villians. Merlin Satanspawn. Dead Boy. Shotgun Suzie. The Oblivion brothers, Tommy and Larry. An army of faded ex-gods looking for a little somethin’ somethin’ under Lilith’s leadership. The Speaking Gun. Julien Advent, the Victorian Adventurer. Walker, voice of the Nightside Authorities. Razor Eddie, Punk God of the Straight Razor. The fate of the Nightside itself. And so much more.

This is the end of the six-book (plus one short story) Nightside saga begun back in Something From The Nightside, and all of those lingering questions and loose threads are addressed in one bizarrely over-the-top adventure that brings back all sorts of familiar (and deadly) faces. Who lives? Who dies? Who dies but refuses to stay dead? The answers are within.

This is not a book for new readers. Sure, you can pick it up and get the gist of things, but why would you want to? This is book six of a six book storyline, and frankly, the way Green writes, he could have cut out a lot of the repetition and compressed this series into a trilogy, a duology, or maybe just one of his trademark fat books of doom. Read the series in order, and you’ll appreciate it ever so much better. That sense of buildup and anticipation, the slow unfolding of mystery and the dawning of realization, and the appreciation of that one moment where it all starts to go downhill for our heroes. (That moment covers the first five pages of the first book . . . and is then repeated regularly. Poor John Taylor.)

But I should say more. No one writes like Simon Green. No one. His style is infectious, energetic, over-the-top without the slightest hint of restraint. He writes large on a scale that refuses boundaries, turning even the slightest act into something grand and epic. No one is mediocre in the Nightside, unless they’re a fallen god. Everyone is the whatever-est they can be of whatever qualities they possess or personify. Strongest, fastest, meanest, scariest, best with a sword, you name it. But there’s still always someone better. But in the world Green crafts, this comes off as perfectly normal, just like the character names he lays down on every page with a straight face. Razor Eddy, Annie Abbatoir, Count Video, the Collector, Shotgun Suzie aka Suzie Shooter. Comic book names, and yet they work under the circumstances. (And hands up, everyone who thinks a Nightside comic book would be perfect.) I’ll repeat that. No one writes like Simon Green, so it’s a good thing he writes quickly and fairly prolifically. So read this series. It’s urban fantasy with teeth and claws. If you like Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files, Glen Cook’s Garrett P.I. series, or John Constantine: Hellblazer, this series is for you.

Oh, and if you don’t read it? Shotgun Suzie will break down your door and set your Robert Jordans on fire. Just thought I’d warn you.

Night Watch, by Sergei Lukyanenko (Miramax, 2006)

There is a world beyond the everyday one, a world filled with shapeshifters, sorcerers, demons, and more. Collectively, they are the Others, supernatural beings who live among us, and police their own kind with a strict series of checks and balances. The Night Watch, representing the cause of the Light, face off daily against the Day Watch, who keep the forces of the Dark in line. Should one side ever get out of hand, the other is always there to make sure balance is restored, in one fashion or another. And so things have gone for many years. And now, in modern-day Moscow, things are about to get interesting.

For Anton, a member of the Night Watch only recently promoted to field agent, it’s the start of something strange and harrowing when he’s sent to deal with a renegade vampire. In fact, the vampire is but the tip of the iceberg, as he quickly stumbles across a young man full of great power, and a beautiful woman threatened by a dark vortex of unimaginable destruction. Anton will have to juggle these twin problems — defuse the vortex before its curse can lay waste to the city, and save the young man from death or corruption. Luckily, he has his allies on the Night Watch to keep him safe . . . or does he? Because someone’s playing a very deadly, complex game, and nothing is what it appears to be.

In the second episode to feature Anton, a member of the Night Watch is being framed for the ritualistic slayings of Others under the Day Watch’s jurisdiction. When Anton himself is revealed as the target, he’s forced to flee justice, and defy both Watches in a desperate attempt to get to the heart of the matter, lest he be sacrificed as a pawn. He’ll cast aside his normal morals and beliefs, and make deals he shouldn’t, all to preserve the balance.

In the final episode, Anton suffers from a world-weary ennui, dissatisfaction and discontent raging in his soul even as a heat wave makes Moscow almost intolerable. He and his friends from the Night Watch leave for a much-deserved vacation in the country, but the time off is exactly what Anton needs to get his thoughts in order. Almost too late, he catches on to a plan of epic nature and drastic consequences, and sets out to interfere with destiny. But will it destroy his career, and his relationships?

Night Watch is the first book in an extremely popular series by Russian SF/F writer Sergei Lukyanenko. Finally translated and made available in English, it’s a stunning example of fantasy written outside the American market. On the surface, it’s fairly standard urban (or cityscape) fantasy: magical beings existing in a society of their own, hidden from public view, dealing with problems unknown to mortal bystanders. No, where this book really takes off is in the setting, the atmosphere, and the attitude.

Night Watch is Russian as only a native can appreciate and understand it, and the mood plays a heavy part throughout the book, affecting everything the characters say or do. It’s easy to see the book’s events play out in Moscow, where characters fight as much with words and bureaucracy as they do with magical spells and claws and fang. When a major plot point can all hinge upon a minor deal made as part of red tape, or checks and balances, or when it all hinges upon how one person words things to another, it just seems to fit perfectly. I’ve described Night Watch as “Simon R. Green, except Russian, introspective, and a lot more melodramatic than over-the-top” and so far, that seems like an accurate designation. The writing style is fluid, carrying the reader along on a wild roller coaster ride from start to finish. And if the (mostly) main character of Anton is prone to overthinking way too much, well, it doesn’t seem out of place here. Night Watch is a novel where immense consequences hinge upon the minor actions of supposedly minor people, and where the most powerful of sorcerers still answer to red tape.

Perhaps if I was better versed in Russian literature, history, and culture, I could more accurately describe how this book possesses a certain style, conveys a specific mood, and represents the Russian style of science fiction/fantasy. Perhaps I would be able to more eloquently note how it’s unlike anything you’re likely to find coming out of the American or British schools of writing. As it stands, I can just say that I was blown away by this glimpse into something different from the same old same. And in the end, isn’t that what many of us are usually looking for? Something familiar, and yet different from the usual. That’s the basis on which I’d recommend Night Watch, and I’ll be looking forward to the rest of the series if and when they make their way over here. Extreme kudos go to translator Andrew Bromfield, who had the unenviable task of translating this book into English without losing its flavor.

Hell To Pay, by Simon R. Green (Ace, 2006)

Lilith may be gone for good, but the Nightside, that sordid dark heart of London remains, a magical place where anything’s possible, everything’s for sale, and everyone has a hidden agenda. And as long as the Nightside endures, there’s work to be had for John Taylor, the most dangerous P. I. in town. Because let’s face it, saving the world from ancient evils doesn’t pay the rent, and in the Nightside, there’s always someone who needs something.

This time, it’s Jeremiah Griffin, the obscenely wealthy immortal who’s made no secret of his intentions to fill the power vacuum left by Lilith’s machinations. But before he can take over the Nightside, he needs John Taylor to locate his missing granddaughter, his newly-designated heir, who’s vanished without a trace. And that’s where it starts to get ugly. Because now John’s going to have to turn over some very nasty stones and deal with all the dark, wriggling secrets and cold truths that come squirming into the light. He’ll track down and question Griffin’s wife, children and spouses, and grandson, and his search will take him into some of the most exclusive — and most disturbing — establishments in the Nightside. Immortality, after all, can inspire all manner of interesting vices to stave off the boredom. And then Taylor will learn just how Jeremiah Griffin became immortal, and what all that entails. Will John Taylor escape with his soul intact? Hey, no one ever said life in the Nightside was dull, safe, predictable, or sane. Especially once the Salvation Army Sisterhood, the original nuns with guns, get involved.

After the epic events of the past few books, it’s almost relaxing to get back to something as down-to-Earth as a missing person case, albeit one with a Nightside twist. As always, Green shines in his over-the-top, non-holds-barred action and descriptions of the Nightside’s nastiest, strangest corners. The beauty of this setting is that just about anything can, and does, make an appearance, including some characters from other books, such as Bruin Bear and Jimmy Thunder. Not only do Nightside regulars Larry Oblivion, Suzie Shooter, and Dead Boy show up, but a whole host of new characters get their time in the spotlight.

I’ll be honest: after you’ve read enough of Simon Green’s books, you begin to see certain recurring themes, and Hell To Pay reminds me strongly of some of the Hawk and Fisher novels. The wealthy are all decadent and twisted, though not without vaguely redeeming features. The authorities are corrupt, or at least fairly nasty in their own way. Weird Stuff ™ wanders in and out of the story for no better reason than Green felt like it. There’s always someone who’s the most whatever (strongest/fastest/nastiest) or the best whatever (swordsman/businessman/fighter), or just plain scariest. Mind you, this isn’t a bad thing. These books occupy a very distinct niche in their own right, and no one can write quite like Simon Green when it comes to stylized or extreme dark/urban fantasy storytelling. He doesn’t take it seriously, and neither should you, because it’s all in good fun. I absolutely love this series, and Hell To Pay is the perfect place to jump in if you can’t be bothered to read the first six in the series (but really, why wouldn’t you?) Hell To Pay is urban fantasy with a neon edge, and its shameless abandon is a welcome change from the books that wallow in angst and indecision. (And in a subgenre rapidly overflowing with paranormal romances, it’s refreshingly light on matters of the heart.)

So I’ll happily recommend Hell To Pay as a worthy addition to the Nightside series. It may not break much new ground, but it’s thoroughly enjoyable in its own right, and that’s enough for me.

Dragon's Teeth, by James A. Hetley (Ace, 2006)

The backwoods of Maine are a breeding ground for the strange and the unusual. Case in point: the town of Stonefort, home to two uniquely powerful clans. The Haskells are witches, dedicated to protecting women and children from the dangers of the world, healing them of old wounds and hidden hurts. The Morgans are selkies, seal-blooded shapeshifters who serve an ancient entity known only as the Dragon. Applying their talents as thieves and pirates, the Morgans are almost fanatically fond of their privacy. Together, these two families, united by uneasy ties of family, loyalty and shared interests, have worked together to keep their small hometown as safe as possible. Unfortunately, not all of their problems are easily disposed of.

Some time has passed since the Morgan-Haskell alliance defeated a Peruvian sorcerer and his attempt to steal their powers. Caroline, who’s both Haskell and Morgan, has gone back to grad school while she tries to figure out what she wants for her future. Gary, the most recent Morgan to come into his powers and responsibilities, has gone off to college, where his new love interest is making his life even more exciting. Dan and Ben, the elder Morgans, both officially dead to the world, pursue their own interests. Alice Haskell and her new lover Kate Rowley struggle with their relationship as they recover from wounds received months ago. And so the stage is set for a resurgence of trouble.

A dead girl is seen walking in Stonefort once again, even as plastic-wrapped corpses are left in places important to the Haskells and Morgans. Activity is spotted in the supposedly vacant Pratt home. Ancient relics stir with a life of their own. And slowly, the two clans come together to work against a common foe, even as they battle their distrust of one another. As things race towards a perilous climax, secrets will be revealed, power will be earned, and trust will be challenged. All in a day for the guardians of Stonefort.

I absolutely adore this series so far. The mixture of characters makes for a great tapestry of strained interactions against the magical backdrop of a haunted Maine and a hazy Southwest. The plot is almost secondary compared to the variety of character arcs that dominate Dragon’s Teeth, and in truth, I was more interested in how the assorted characters dealt with one another than with how they handled their common foe. Hetley really shines in how well he makes me believe in his protagonists.

As much fun as it is to watch the paranoid, ever-cautious Morgans go to work with their doctrines of “overwhelming force” and “cover your ass,” and to watch Alice Haskell get her way through the subtlest of threats and goodwill, I was captivated by a new character: Jane White. Gary’s new girlfriend is a fascinating, multi-dimensional person whose backstory unfolds to review all sorts of mundane horrors. To put it bluntly, though, she’s a trip, and easily one of the most interesting and sympathetic characters I’ve seen in a while. I found myself paging ahead just to see what would happen with her and Gary, to find out more about her. I certainly hope we see more of her in future books in this series.

Dragon’s Teeth, like Dragon’s Eye before it, is urban fantasy infused with a certain “anything goes” small-town, backwoods atmosphere. I can very easily believe that strange things and magical clans inhabit places off the beaten path, such as the wilds of Maine, and Hetley brings that feeling to life here. It’s clear to me that he’s improving with each new book, and in this series, he really shines. I’ll admit that, as mentioned, the “antagonist” plot does seem a little weak in comparison to the character arcs, and the climax comes off as a little rushed and over before you realize it, but those are relatively minor quibbles when placed in relation to the book’s other strengths. I’d happily recommend this series to urban fantasy readers.