ASF Book Review #3 - 'Beginnings'

My last Australian Speculative Fiction book review of the year will be something a little different, for two reasons. Instead of a novel, the book is an anthology of short stories.  And it's an anthology that not only features one of my own short stories, but 'Beginnings: Australian Speculative Fiction Anthology Vol. 1' is something that I helped put together as well.

In the middle of 2018 there was a post in a Facebook writing group asking if other Australian authors who wrote speculative fiction would want to create their own group for supporting each other, for sharing writing advice. And so the Australian Speculative Fiction group was formed.  From there, it was only a short while before we had the idea to create our own anthology.  Six months later, we released 'Beginnings' - which makes it sound easy. It was not easy. But we did it. And here it is - isn't that cover amazing, by the way?

Firstly, what I love about this collection of short stories is the diversity.  While there may be a few sci-fi or fantasy stories, each is unique and takes you on a very different journey.  One of the benefits of this is that it exposes the reader to different genres than they would normally read - personally I've never been interested in the paranormal/supernatural genres (witches, werewolves and vampires), two of my favourite stories in 'Beginnings' are about witches - 'The Morrigan' by Maddie Jensen and 'Dealt in Sin' by Sasha Hanton.

Between stories set amongst the stars are tales set in our own backyard.  Stephen Herczeg's 'Bus Trip' is about a student taking the bus home from Canberra to Adelaide for the Christmas holidays. Belinda Brady's 'Break the Spell' gives me the familiar imagery of Melbourne's Royal Arcade. 'When the Lights Went Out' (Lachlan Walter) is an intriguing sci-fi piece set in the Victorian countryside, and Rebecca Dale's 'Bugles Bred & Bugles Born' centres around the unbelievable events at one of Sydney's Westfield shopping centres.  'Bugles Bred & Bugles Born' is one of the most unique stories in the anthology, and honestly I don't know how to define or describe it, but the ending still sends shivers up my spine it's that good.

The theme of 'Beginnings' is explored in a variety of ways, from starting life over in a new city ('The Teacup' - Austin P. Sheehan) from starting over alone on a brand new world ('Portals' - A. A. Warne) and from the transition from life to the afterlife ('Next Journey' by Chris Foley and 'The Beginning of the End' by Carolyn Young).

Amongst a collection so diverse, it should be hard to pick a favourite. But 'The Inheritance Experiment' by Kel E. Fox is an absolute standout. It's the story of an Austrian girl, stolen from her family home and subjected to horrible experiments, before being flung into the carnage of World War One. It's a compelling story, and - like every good short story should - it leaves the reader wanting more.

In conclusion, this is a thoroughly enjoyable collection of diverse short stories. There's something in there for everyone, and many of the stories are so good they're worth re-reading.

Here's a link to the Aussie Speculative Fiction website, for information about the group, where you can read more reviews of books by Australian Speculative Fiction authors, and see exclusive flash fiction pieces and author interviews.

Here's a link where you can buy the 'Beginnings' Anthology where it's currently being sold exclusively through Amazon.

He's Dropped the Easiest of Marks: The Trouble With Being Average.

In the recent AFL Grand Final, a player dropped a mark.  And the commentator announced "he's dropped the easiest of marks."  It's been bugging me ever since.

This is the Grand Final.  The Big Dance.  The culmination of a gruelling pre-season, a winter's worth of Home and Away games and an incredible month of finals football.  The entire year has been preparing for this game, and the chance to win a flag is something all players have dreamt of for decades.  Every kick, every mark, every handball will contribute to the outcome of the game, will decide if you'll leave elated or heartbroken.  With all that pressure, nothing is easy.  I probably couldn't have tied up my bootlaces without losing my breakfast.

People say writing is easy.  People say art is easy.  People say writing blogs is easy.  I think that saying something is easy is easy.

We don't know the struggles other people are going through.  We don't know how much they sacrificed and how much they struggled, getting through University, getting their work to a place that they're happy with, how scared they might be of sharing their work, let alone submitting it for fear of rejection or criticism.  Some people even struggle to get out of bed.

For me, even deciding to start writing was a hard one.  For twenty years I've been an avid reader, losing myself in the works of some of the greatest authors.  Like Le Guin whose words flow like poetry, simple and beautiful, yet cutting to the core of the deep questions.  Like Donaldson and Herbert, who built incredibly vivid worlds, inhabiting them with wondrous species with their own rich histories, mythologies, creeds and customs.  Like Dick and Burgess whose intellect, linguistic skills, creativity and imagination are out if this world.  How could I even try, with the benchmark so impossibly high?  How could I hope to write anything comparable to the works of those incredible gifted people?  I couldn't, so I didn't.

What I write is nothing like that of my literary idols.  I always wanted it to be, though.  I always wanted my writing to be as eloquent, as powerful, as funny and as beautiful as theirs.  But it isn't.  It's the story if my life, to some extent.  I've always wanted to be better-looking, to be stronger, to be better at sport, at art, at languages.  I never even liked my own name as a kid.  But as I've grown up I've started to appreciate myself more.  I even chose to keep Austin as my pen-name, when it would have been the easiest thing in the world to use something else.  And I've accepted that even though my writing isn't awe-inspiring like that of my heroes, that doesn't mean it's not good enough.

Thanks for reading,

Austin P. Sheehan.

The Reality of Being an Australian Writer #1

As a writer, we want our books, our stories, our worlds to have some kind of impact or influence on our readers. We want readers to be moved or inspired by our characters. As a rule, if a person decides to become a writer, one can assume that they've read something that has changed their life.

And that's true for me. I can think of several books that have had a profound affect on me. But today I'm writing about something that has perhaps a greater impact on my life, and as a consequence, the books I write and the worlds I create. That is Australia, our Great Southern Land.

As an Australian writer, Identity is important. The English-speaking world is dominated by American and English cultures, which don't always resonate strongly with Australians. For example, when I was twelve I remember lying amongst a grove of gum trees near a creek in my home town, considering the story of Saint George slaying the dragon, and asking myself what that had to do with me, how can that be relevant or part of my culture or identity as an Australian, millennia away from knights or dragons. And to this day I still shudder whenever I read the Americanised "mom" in any novel.

I knew that the story of St George was part of the folklore of England, where my father is from. You could say I went through a process of assessing these elements of foreign cultures and dismissing the ones that were too far removed from the world that I had grown up in. And I think it's fair to say that everyone does that to some extent, and continues doing that throughout their lives. But the more isolated you are, the greater the disparity becomes with your reality and that of the stories.

But there's much more to living in Australia than distance and isolation. The natural beauty of it's coasts and mountains, it's deserts and rain-forests, it's rivers and stone formations all mask it's harshness, it's underlying menace. If I'm ever asked "what books best sum up Australia?" I would say 'Wake in Fright' (Cook, 1961) 'Picnic at Hanging Rock' (Lindsay 1967) 'Follow the Rabbit Proof Fence' (Pilkington 1996) 'He Died With a Felafel in His Hand' (Birmingham 2000).

'Wake in Fright' is a wonderful yet terrifying tale, about the divide between city and country, about the harsh nature of life in these remote towns, presenting not only the country itself but those who live in it as menacing. 'Picnic at Hanging Rock' is a wonderful mystery set in rural Victoria, which I discussed in this list of books and movies that I love. It's sinister, it's brooding and it captures rural Australia so well. 'Follow the Rabbit Proof Fence' shows us one of the many horrors of Australia's colonisation, the forced removal of First Australian children from their families. The argument here is that the darkness and cruelty of Australia lays within the culture of it's white colonisers, and is hard to refute. 'He Died With a Felafel in his Hand' is a more comedic look at the country through stories of living in shared houses. As funny as it is, it's still grim.

Many great Australian writers have written Speculative Fiction; Isobelle Carmody, John Marsden, Sara Douglass and Garth Nix just to name a few. Personally, I don't read books just because the author is Australian. I often look into who they are a bit more if their books particularly grab me. But every now and then when reading a book, a uniquely Australian landmark will appear, or an Aussie slang expression or turn of phrase will be used, and then you just know the author is Australian. I am not going to go out and say that the best Speculative Fiction Writers are Australian, but I will say that we have an advantage. It's easy for us to write about post-apocalyptic wastelands or desolate alien planets, barren environments and the types of people who thrive amongst the hardships and the types of people who succumb to the horror of it all, because that is our reality.