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Shoreline of Infinity 11: Shoreline of Infinity science fiction magazine
Shoreline of Infinity 11: Shoreline of Infinity science fiction magazine
Shoreline of Infinity 11: Shoreline of Infinity science fiction magazine
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Shoreline of Infinity 11: Shoreline of Infinity science fiction magazine

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All women special edition

Guest Editors: Pippa Goldschmidt, Caroline Grebbell
Guest Art Director: Monica Burns

Stories:

Aliette de Bodard – A Slow Unfurling of Truth
Emily Bowles – Write ME
Karen Heuler – Heading for the Border
Lith Amenti – Sacrifice For A Broken Sky
Anna Ibbotson – Do No Harm
Katy Lennon – #NoBadVibes
Sim Bajwa – HR Confidential
Jen Downes – Pearls That Were His Eyes

Articles

 SJ McGeachy on Frankenstein: The Nuts and Bolts
of Genre Mash-Up

Jonatha Kottler – Confessions of a Science Fiction
She-nerd

Interview: Lisanne Norman

and 

Ruth EJ Booth regular column – Noise and Sparks: Beyond the Mountains

SF poetry by: Katherine McMahon, Catherine Edmunds, Paige Smith, Katie Fanthorpe

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 9, 2018
ISBN9781386673002
Shoreline of Infinity 11: Shoreline of Infinity science fiction magazine

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    Book preview

    Shoreline of Infinity 11 - Aliette de Bodard

    Science fiction magazine from Scotland

    ISSN 2059-2590

    © 2018 Shoreline of Infinity.

    Contributors retain copyright of own work.

    Shoreline of Infinity is available in digital or print editions.

    Submissions of fiction, art, reviews, poetry, non-fiction are welcomed: visit the website to find out how to submit.

    www.shorelineofinfinity.com

    Publisher

    Shoreline of Infinity Publications / The New Curiosity Shop

    Edinburgh

    Scotland

    090318

    Editorial Team

    Guest Editors:

    Pippa Goldschmidt,Caroline Grebbell

    Guest Art Director:

    Monica Burns

    Co-founder, Editor & Editor-in-Chief:
Noel Chidwick

    Co-founder, Art Director:
Mark Toner

    Deputy Editor & Poetry Editor:
Russell Jones

    Reviews Editor:
Iain Maloney

    Assistant Editor & First Reader:
Monica Burns

    Copy editors:Iain Maloney, Russell Jones, Monica Burns

    Extra thanks to:
M Luke McDonell, Katy Lennon, and many others.

    First Contact

    www.shorelineofinfinity.com

    contact@shorelineofInfinity.com

    Twitter: @shoreinf

    and on Facebook

    Cover: Siobhan McDonald

    Table of Contents

    Pull up a Log: Guest Editoral

    Speculative Fiction - to the memory of Ursula K Le Guin

    A Slow Unfurling of Truth

    Write ME

    Heading for the Border

    Sacrifice For A Broken Sky

    Do No Harm

    #NoBadVibes

    HR Confidential

    Pearls That Were His Eyes

    Frankenstein: The Nuts and Bolts of Genre Mash-Up

    Confessions of a Science Fiction She-nerd

    Interview:Lisanne Norman

    Noise and Sparks:Beyond the Mountains

    Reviews

    Calling All artists!

    Multiverse

    Pull Up a Log: Guest Editorial

    Welcome to issue 11 of Shoreline of Infinity which, in case you hadn’t noticed, is an all-women issue to celebrate new and established women writers, and published on International Women’s Day (8 March).

    Why did we decide to do this? SF is still a male-dominated literary genre. Generally, only about 20% of submissions to Shoreline come from women writers and we want to encourage more. It’s even widely assumed that most readers are men. We wanted to support new and would-be women writers by making it clear that there are a plethora of voices and that people will read them.

    Not everyone agrees with our decision. A few women writers whom we approached for contributions declined on the grounds that they didn’t think this sort of ‘segregation’ was a good idea; women writers should be in every issue and if they’re not submitting stories, then that’s the real problem.

    We agree with part of this view. This is just the beginning. The best aspect of our announcement is that we received many more exciting stories than we had space for, so future issues of Shoreline will feature more women too.

    And what of the stories themselves? We were amazed and delighted by the sheer variety of forms, styles and contents. The interaction of gender and SF is a knotty, ever-complex theme (for example in this infamous quote about Alice Sheldon who wrote under the male pseudonym James L. Tiptree, It has been suggested that Tiptree is female, a theory that I find absurd, for there is to me something ineluctably masculine about Tiptree’s writing. — Robert Silverberg).

    And here you’ll find the proof, should you be looking for it, that women’s SF covers all grounds. Satire, comedy, post-modern, military SF…

    Sadly, while we were putting the finishing touches on the magazine (and after Ruth EJ Booth had already written her column inspired by a quote) we heard the news of the passing of Ursula Le Guin. A heroine to all of us here at Shoreline Towers, Le Guin lit the way with some of the best, most provoking and insightful prose of the twentieth century.

    Now she has handed the torch onto us.

    We think it’s fitting that we dedicate this issue to her.

    Pippa Goldschmidt,

    Caroline Grebbell,

    Monica Burns

    Guest Editors

    Shoreline of Infinity

    March 2018

    Pippa Goldschmidt enjoys writing fiction about science. She’s the author of the novel The Falling Sky and the short story collection The Need for Better Regulation of Outer Space. In 2016, she was a winner of the MRC Suffrage Science award and her poem ‘Physics for unwary students’ was chosen to be one of the Scottish Poetry Library’s Best Scottish Poems. www.pippagoldschmidt.co.uk @goldipipschmidt Caroline Grebbell writes speculative and graphic fiction. She is a BSFA nominee and in a parallel universe is employed as an art director in tv/film. www.carolinegrebbell.co.uk @Grebbell Monica Burns is a comics artist and graduate of the University of Dundee’s MLitt in Comics and Graphic Novels. She also writes science fiction and fantasy, and her column in Shoreline of Infinity ‘SF Caledonia’ was recently longlisted for a BSFA Award for Non-Fiction. You can follow her art on Instagram at @monicaburns_artist

    This issue of Shoreline of Infinity is dedicated to the memory of

    Ursula K Le Guin

    21st October 1929 – 22nd January 2018

    Speculative Fiction

    I want there to be a space commune

    named Le Guin. It will be on Earth.

    We will tell each other stories at night.

    We will believe what we say.

    The white rhinos will come back

    and rampage through London

    putting their horns through car windows

    and bellowing songs of triumph.

    We will call them dragons, get out of their way,

    and leave offerings to them at traffic lights.

    I want to walk away

    and have something to walk towards.

    To make the stony spaces ours,

    to learn to grow food

    in the most unlikely places.

    I want the soil back.

    Words will be light and springy.

    They will be like reeds

    and we will blow through them.

    Everything will be a library.

    I want to walk across an expanse of ice

    and come out on the other side.

    I want the bleached coral to evolve

    into something new, to rise

    from the sea and tell us:

    we must imagine better

    Katherine McMahon

    Katherine McMahon is a performance poet. She has performed across the UK, as well as running creative writing workshops, projects, and weird and wonderful events. She is particularly interested in using creative writing and spoken word to build a more just, kinder world through community and solidarity.

    A Slow Unfurling of Truth

    Aliette de Bodard

    Art: Caroline Grebbell

    Huong Giang was putting away her trays of instruments when Thoi walked into the room. Elder sister. He was out of breath, his youthful face flushed with what seemed like anger or trepidation: Thoi had been in his body for less than a year, and he was sometimes hard to read.

    But, new body or not, he still should have known better. Thoi, you’re not meant to come here, Huong Giang said. I made it clear—

    I know, Thoi said. But you need to come, elder sister. Now. And, after a pause that was rife with implications – There’s a man that has come here to Celestial Spires – a Galactic.

    And? It was hardly usual, to be sure – Galactics remained in the areas that appealed to them, the central parts of the cities and the planetside attractions – but it wasn’t as though it should concern her.

    He says his name is Fargeau. Simalli Fargeau.

    That doesn’t mean anything. The government had sent people to Celestial Spires for years after the purges: they pretended they were from the Poetry Circle’s lost members – Simalli, or Vu, or Thanh Ha. They dropped hints; told her how frustrating it was that, decades after the Galactic masters had departed, the government continued to indulge them, continued to strip its land and people bare to bow down to Galactic wishes. Huong Giang, who’d learnt her lessons in six bitter weeks of jail and re-education sessions, never said anything; and the people would always leave after a few weeks. The attempts had ceased many years ago; but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be back.

    You don’t understand, Thoi said. He really is a Galactic.

    They could always find a Galactic to do their dirty work for them. Huong Giang turned away from Thoi. She only had her monitor to switch off before she could go back home to stare at herself in the mirror – seeing herself drained and rootless – wondering why, no matter how many years she put between herself and the purges, the memories she’d sealed away still seemed to suffuse her whole being; still filled her with a sense of loss so frightening she found it hard to breathe.

    It’s more than that. Thoi hesitated. Elder sister… I really think it’s Simalli.

    You’re sure?

    Of course I can’t be sure, Thoi said. But…

    But he thought he knew. And he was the most observant among them; the only one of the Poetry Circle who’d avoided time in jail, because he’d successfully gauged his interrogators’ moods.

    Simalli. In the flesh.

    Did he say anything? she asked. She hadn’t thought anything could make her feel this cold and hot at the same time – adrift in space, in some rootless vacuum that held no comfort or no enlightenment.

    No. Only that he’s been here a while.

    Where did you put him?

    I left him in one of our guest rooms, Thoi said.

    Did he— She meant to ask whether he’d mentioned Dao, but that was a silly, selfish thought – the repercussions of Simalli’s return went far beyond her niece’s fate. What she needed to do… she needed to make sure it was him. She needed to recover his key-fragment. She forced herself to breathe, to drag her thoughts back from the frenzied panic that had overtaken them. Call the Identity Keepers. Tell them I want an authenticator. Kieu specifically, if she’s available.

    The Identity Keepers’ services did not come cheap; but it was the only way she knew to be sure. During the purges, they had taken no sides – performing their services whether it was the government or the families of the disappeared paying for them. Rumour had it that it had cost them dearly; but of course even the government couldn’t do without some kind of authentication.

    Are you sure? Thoi asked.

    She’d never been surer of anything in her life.

    Celestial Spires hadn’t changed: the same old holos on the walls, the same smell of fish sauce wafting through the corridors like a memory of childhood. A group of people in crude bodies bypassed Kieu – the men had fingers curled into thin claws; the women were flat-chested with carp-scales adorning their cheekbones and the back of their hands. It was all… so tame, so symptomatic of Tai Menh, a backward planet clinging to outmoded traditions. At least the capital – where Kieu lived – had all the modern Galactic amenities, and access to the latest optical-stims and some of the most radical body-change technologies; though it still was nothing compared to the vibrancy of Prime or Cygnus.

    You haven’t told me why I’m here, Kieu told Huong Giang.

    For an authentication – what else? Kieu’s mindship partner, The Sea and Mulberry, had left his physical body at the docks – of course, he wouldn’t have fitted in anywhere on the orbital – and projected only a small hologram of himself, hovering at the height of Kieu’s shoulder

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