Faith J. Cormier wrote this review.
Flytrap: a little zine with teeth is gone. Parenting is more complex than Heather and Tim expected (well, millions of us could have told them that), and so is the rest of life (ditto), so in their words, “Flytrap is going on indefinite hiatus.”
Pity.
This last (for the foreseeable future) issue is a good one, too, with a little bit of something for many tastes. Besides Heather and Tim’s final editorial, with a picture of their terribly cute son, we have fiction, poetry, truths and oddments. I’ll take them in the order they appear.
“Chance of Snow” by Alex Wilson is one of those choose your own adventures that were popular for a while, but that I haven’t seen lately. This one is a romance between a human and a snow-creature. Some of the possible endings are almost happy, but really, what chance does such a relationship have?
Patricia Russo’s “Eye Blow” is post-apocalyptic stuff. I don’t much care for post-apocalyptic stuff. In fact, I don’t really want to survive the end of civilization. However, if you like such things this will interest you, I’m sure. If nothing else, the thought of seniors of all sexes being referred to as grannies is amusing.
“Excerpts from the Book of Dead Beginnings” I don’t get at all. Obviously, this is a failing on my part. “The Nature of Love” by Tracina Jackson is much more my speed. It’s a little weird, but the kind of weird I wouldn’t mind having come around occasionally. Ah, yes, and it’s love between plant and fish. Kinky, perhaps, but love.
Now, “Selections from the Twitter Stream of Dark Lord Mogrash, Oppressor of Night, Breaker of Day, Master of the Howling Void” is a riot. All things considered, I think Lord M would approve of that description. “Frequent Flier Miles,” by Greg van Eekhout, is tragic, but gently tragic. Ben Burgis’ “Sing, Goddess, Sing Me to the Stars” is also tragic, but much less gently, dealing as it does with imperialism and war and the terminal loneliness of being surrounded by otherness.
“Moth’s Flame,” from T.F. Davenport, is the only real science fiction in this issue, if you define science fiction as being a story that couldn’t exist without the science. The science of altering the parameters of time and gravity isn’t explained, of course, but it’s the reason for the story’s existence, not to mention providing a very happy ending for millions of sentient beings.
Next come four pleasant poems from Dana Gioia, followed by Nick Mamatas’ essay “Life Among the Obliterati: What’s Interesting?” As the title suggests, it discusses whether genre fiction is, or should be, interesting.
We’ve reviewed Tim Pratt’s works before here and here and here, as well as previous issues of Flytrap here and here and here. We also looked at Heather Shaw’s When We Were Six.
(Tropism Press, 2008)
[Update: Not only is Flytrap still on hiatus, but as we’ve noted elsewhere, Tropism Press has shuffled off the scene as well.]
