Upending and recombining familiar genres with fearless abandon, Nick Mamatas is known for his wicked satires in which Horror rides shotgun with SF as they power through Fantasy's rush-hour traffic. Lanes are crossed, speed limits exceeded, and minds often blown. Our title piece, original to this volume, is something entirely new. Trust me. "The Planetbreaker's Son" is a starship novella in which interstellar emigrants maintain their stadium-sized vessel with dreams and play. On the fly. Think Pinocchio meets Ender's Game. "Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring" is a cautionary tale about the perilous interface between ancient wizardry and modern ringtones. And it's for you. "The Term Paper Artist" is Nick's celebrated and hilarious how-to on embellishing the academic establishment with equal parts imitation and duct tape. Based on a true story of lies. And Featuring: of course, our casually candid Outspoken Interview, in which Greek sailors, Japanese manga mavens, Doc Martens, Lovecraft, Grandma, and Kerouac mingle and mix. Care to dance?
He walks the stars embedded in the virtual dome of night and, when he tires of a world, throws a small black stone over his shoulder--and entire societies blink out of existence. The work is necessary, or so he insists. But the Planetbreaker's son has his own ideas. Meanwhile, in "The Strange Case Of," Mamatas gleefully blinks sentimental, shopworn ideas out of easy acceptance. "The Twin Dragons of Sentimentality and Didacticism" explores the dangers and pleasures of Animal Rescue. But listen. That "Ring, Ring, Ring" (and so forth) you hear is the dreaded ouija phone connecting the living with the dead. And it's for you. Of course we include our predictably unpredictable, outrageously rageous Outspoken Interview with Mamatas. Also for you.
He walks the stars embedded in the virtual dome of night and, when he tires of a world, throws a small black stone over his shoulder--and entire societies blink out of existence. The work is necessary, or so he insists. But the Planetbreaker's son has his own ideas. Meanwhile, in "The Strange Case Of," Mamatas gleefully blinks sentimental, shopworn ideas out of easy acceptance. "The Twin Dragons of Sentimentality and Didacticism" explores the dangers and pleasures of Animal Rescue. But listen. That "Ring, Ring, Ring" (and so forth) you hear is the dreaded ouija phone connecting the living with the dead. And it's for you. Of course we include our predictably unpredictable, o