Fantasy Books

So it was, but it is said that in recompense Mandos gave to Beren and to Lúthien thereafter a long span of life and joy, and they wandered knowing thirst nor cold in the fair land of Beleriand, and no mortal Man thereafter spoke to Beren or his spouse.

from The Quenta Silmarillion

When I wrote about The Silmarillion last year, without much detail, I described the story of Beren and Lúthien as the great love story of Middle-earth. Inspired by Prof. Tolkien’s love for his wife, Edith, as well as the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, its narrative is integral to the events of The Lord of the Rings. Aragorn’s lineage goes straight back down the millennia to the couple, as does Elrond’s.

Christopher Tolkien, continuing the great work he undertook to edit and publish the greatest portion of his father’s work developing the myths, legends, and tales of Middle-earth, published three books brining a jeweler’s eye to the three great tales contained with The Silmarillion; The Children of  Húrin (2007), Beren and Lúthien (2017), and The Fall of Gondolin (2018). Much more than with The Children of Húrin, Beren and Lúthien digs deeply into the evolution of the story, presenting multiple versions and commentary.

To begin, Beren is the only survivor of a band of human survivors from the great battle where the Dark Lord, Morgoth, destroyed the greater element of the army of elves and men that had kept him trapped in his realm. After the battle, Beren, his father, and ten other men, fought as outlaws against the Morgoth’s forces, until they were betrayed. All save Beren are killed.

After many great deeds and trials, Beren flees south and comes into the hidden elf kingdom of Doriath. There he spies Luthien, daughter of the king of Doriath, dancing, and is enchanted. She in turn sees Beren, and both fall in love. Her father, King Thingol, refuses to give his daughter’s hand in marriage to a mortal. Only if he could bring back one of the Silmarils, the great jewels forged by Feanor, from the crown of Morgoth, would he consent.

Though obviously a task considered impossible, Beren and a band of elves set out to try. They never even make it to the land of Morgoth, instead, being intercepted by his lieutenant, Sauron. Though imprisoned and tortured, they never reveal who they really are or what they’re doing so close to the Dark Lord’s lands. One by one, trapped in Sauron’s dungeon, they are devoured by his great wolves.

Meanwhile, after surviving trials of her own and gaining the friendship of the mighty dog, Huan, Lúthien arrives at Sauron’s keep in search of Beren. Huan kills the wolves and werewolves of Sauron, while with her own powerful magic, Lúthien overcomes Sauron and frees Beren.

Lúthien’s dance before Morgoth and his court by Alan Lee

They return to Doriath, but Beren is still intent on recovering a Silmaril from Morgoth. He again sets out into the terrible lands of the Dark Lord but struggles with despair and loneliness. When he sings a song of great sorrow, Lúthien and Huan hear it and come to him. Disguised as a werewolf and vampire, they steal into Angband, Morgoth’s fortress. Revealing her true self, Lúthien offers to dance and sing for the Dark Lord. It is a dance woven through with powerful magic and puts all of his court of evil to sleep. Beren then pries a Silmaril from the slumbering enemy’s crown. Only when he tries to take a second one, he rouses their foes and must flee.

And she beguiled Morgoth, even as his heart plotted foul evil within him; and she danced before him, and cast all his court in sleep; and she sang to him, and she flung the magic robe she had woven in Doriath in his face, and she set a binding dream upon him—what song can sing the marvel of that deed, or the wrath and humiliation of Morgoth, for even the Orcs laugh in secret when they remember it, telling how Morgoth fell from his chair and his iron crown rolled upon the floor.

The great wolf, Carcharoth, bred especially to defeat Huan, chases and attacks. Beren tries to ward off the beast with the Silmaril, but it bites off his hand and swallows the jewel. Immediately, the gem causes the beast such pain that it drives it mad and charges off, bringing terror and horror wherever it runs.

Too swift for thought his onset came,
too swift for any spell to tame;
and Beren desperate then aside
thrust Lúthien, and forth did stride
unarmed, defenceless to defend
Tinúviel until the end.
With left hand he caught at hairy throat,
with right, from which the radiance welled
of the holy Silmaril he held.
As gleam of swords in fire there flashed
the fangs of Carcharoth, and crashed
together like a trap, that tore
the hand about the wrist, and shore
through brittle bone and sinew nesh,
devouring the frail mortal flesh;
and in that cruel mouth unclean
engulfed the jewel’s holy sheen.

On returning to Doriath, when Thingol learns that a Silmaril was indeed stolen from Morgoth, he relents and allows Beren to marry Lúthien. When the wolf, mad with pain, enters the kingdom, a party, including Beren and Thingol sets off to hunt it. The wolf is finally killed, but only after mortally wounding Beren and Huan. Overcome with grief, Lúthien dies from sorrow. When her spirit arrives in the Halls of the Dead, she sings a song of such beauty and power that she and her husband are returned to life, to live out their days as mortals.

This is the way the story of Beren and Lúthien emerged finally in the pages of The Silmarillion. It did not start out that way and cataloguing the numerous ways it evolved and mutated is what Christopher Tolkien set out to do with this little volume. It is an interesting book, though, without having read The Silmarillion I imagine it would make little sense.

The earliest version, and the most drastically different, began in 1917 as The Tale of Tinúviel. It’s far more like a fairy tale than the epic style of Tolkien’s later writing. Beren is not a man, instead a Gnome. In these early tales, the great elves later called Noldor, go by this name, which Tolkien linked to the Greek word for thought or intelligence. With images of Huygen’s and Poortvliet’s red-capped little fellows appearing in my head at every appearance of the word, it was a bit disconcerting.

Tevildo by Alan Lee

The cat, of course, doesn’t help. What cat you ask? Well, instead of Sauron, the enemy who imprisons him is Tevildo, a great cat with a retinue of lesser cats at his side. On its own, it works well creating a real fairytale atmosphere, but as part of the lore of Middle-earth it lacks the necessary deeper, darker shading.

Beren is less determined than he’ll eventually be portrayed, but as in all the story’s variations, Lúthien takes on the Orphean role and risks great harm to save him. As the tale evolves, she is clearly Tolkien’s great heroine. Beren bolts forward with the subtlety of an angry bull, unable to restrain himself and think things through. She is always thoughtful, ever planning, and wise and clever in ways that can actually trick the great powers of evil in her path.

Later, Tolkien began reworking the tale into an epic poem, The Lay of Leithian. Unfinished, it still runs to 14 of the planned 17 cantos and is over 4200 lines long. It is much more in line with The Silmarillion‘s version of Lúthien’s and Beren’s tale than the earlier version. Beren is now a man. This means the tragic aspect of an immortal falling in love with a mortal appears for the first time. The malignant feline, Tevildo, has been replaced with Thû, a formative version of Sauron. I appreciate the great effort the professor made in writing the poem, but I prefer the finished prose form.

The most interesting thing learned from reading is that this, and the rest of what’s contained in The Silmarillion, are the stories Tolkien wanted to write after the success of The Hobbit. According to his son,

In October he said in a letter to Stanley Unwin, the chairman of Allen and Unwin, that he was ‘a little perturbed. I cannot think of anything more to say about hobbits. Mr Baggins seems to have exhibited so fully both the Took and the Baggins side of their nature. But I have only too much to say, and much already written, about the world into which the hobbit intruded.’ He said that he wanted an opinion on the value of these writings on the subject of ‘the world into which the hobbit intruded’; and he put together a collection of manuscripts and sent them off to Stanley Unwin on 15 November 1937. Included in the collection was QS II, which had reached the moment when Beren took into his hand the Silmaril which he had cut from Morgoth’s crown.

Only later did he land on satisfactory artistic solution:

‘I offered them the legends of the Elder Days, but their readers turned that down. They wanted a sequel. But I wanted heroic legends and high romance. The result was The Lord of the Rings.

As a reader, I am grateful for the creation of The Lord of the Rings, but it’s always a little bit dispiriting to be reminded how often art must bend to the will of commerce if it’s to even exist.

I am not as obsessed with all the professor’s backstage undertakings as I once was. I’m completely satisfied with the LOTR’s appendices and Unfinished Tales. Long ago I decided I didn’t need all twelve volumes of The History of Middle-earth. I only bought this book because I’d read and loved The Children of Húrin. I had the mistaken understanding that Beren and Lúthien and The Fall of Gondolin were more like that. They are more literary excavations than coherent narratives.

This is a book for Tolkien completists. It has real value to anyone intrigued by how Middle-earth’s great romance grew from a fairy tale beginning to something worthy of 4200 + lines of poetry and more. Nonetheless, I am glad I read it and will read the succeeding volume about Gondolin one day. Still, it’s not a book I imagine ever reading in toto again.

Roads Go Ever Ever On

Some dwarf and JRR Tolkien by the Bros. Hildebrandt

With this essay, I’m bringing down the curtain on Half a Century of Reading Tolkien. Ten dedicated pieces and two related ones seem enough. There are notions floating about my brain for future work, but for now, I’ll let them rest and perhaps germinate into full-fledged ideas. I’m more than satisfied with what I’ve done here at Black Gate and reader’s responses. Some of the comments directly affected how I approached the professor’s work in succeeding articles.

I have enjoyed this undertaking immensely, as I hope many of you have. It’s pleasing to find that The Hobbit still brings me joy, and The Lord of the Rings and parts of The Silmarillion still move and thrill me. It was also exciting to bring more knowledge of history, Christianity, and myth to reading these works. That was important to developing a deeper understanding of what Prof. Tolkien was doing artistically and thematically. There’s great beauty in Tolkien and revisiting it has been a rewarding undertaking.

I definitely enjoyed the chance to revisit curiosities and side bits like the Rankin and Bass shows, the Ralph Bakshi movie, and Bored of the Rings. Even Terry Brooks’ The Sword of Shannara was more interesting coming so close upon the heels of rereading Tolkien.

For those who don’t remember, this entire project grew out of me hate-watching Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies (the expanded editions with even more things to hate-watch). I easily watched all three movies three times in the course of preparing for and writing the first four articles. Looking back a year or so, I stand by my dismissal of them and, even more so, by my complete disdain for the The Hobbit movies.

Last year, concerning those last three dreadful films, I wrote “I feel like I watched them for penance for any and all sins I’ve ever committed and will yet commit.” I watched them again after writing that and have concluded there are no sins I could still commit in my life that would ever make me deserve such punishment. Even Morgoth himself might offer me condolences for having seen them.

Let me leave you with some words from Christopher Tolkien from an interview in Le Monde. First, his opinion on the LOTR movies, “They eviscerated the book, making it an action film for 15-25 year olds.” More importantly, though, he added “The gap that has widened between the beauty, the seriousness of the work, and what it has become, all of this is beyond me. Such a degree of commercialization reduces the aesthetic and philosophical significance of this creation to nothing. I only have one solution left: turn my head.”

The books will remain. They are there for the reading any time. For as many times as I’ve read them, I imagine, well, hope, many more times remain.

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part One

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Two – The Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Three — The Two Towers by JRR Tolkien

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Four — The Return of the King by JRR Tolkien

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Five — From the Beginning: The Hobbit by JRR Tolkien

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Six — Bored of the Rings by Henry N. Beard & Douglas C. Kenney

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Seven — The Sword of Shannara by Terry Brooks

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Eight — The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien

Half a Century of Reading Tolkien: Part Nine – Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, translated by JRR Tolkien

Grimmer Than Grim: The Children of Húrin by J.R.R. Tolkien

Talking Tolkien: Of Such a Sort Should a Man Be – Beowulf: A Translation and Commentary by J.R.R. Tolkien

Fletcher Vredenburgh writes a column each first Sunday of the month at Black Gate, mostly about older books he hasn’t read before. He also posts at his own site, Stuff I Like when his muse hits him

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Faraway Inn by Sarah Beth Durst

Mogsy’s Rating: 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Delacorte (March 31, 2026)

Length: 384 pages

Author Information: Website | Twitter

At this point, is it honestly a surprise that a new book by Sarah Beth Durst would turn out this cute and cozy? Even though this hasn’t always been her genre (I remember starting out reading her Queens of Renthia series and then loving Race the Sands and The Bone Maker), cottagecore fantasy is clearly the lane she’s settled into recently and is absolutely rocking it. That The Faraway Inn is a Young Adult novel doesn’t change its warm, comforting appeal either. If anything, it embraces everything that makes it an inviting romantasy without being too cloying or overdone.

The story follows a Brooklyn teenager named Calisa, who arrives at her great-aunt’s bed-and-breakfast in rural Vermont after a messy breakup derails her summer plans. Her parents figured that a few months away, working for an estranged relative, might give her the change of scenery she needs to find some peace and move on. Instead, she walks into a situation that’s anything but peaceful, and one where she clearly isn’t wanted. Auntie Zee has no interest in anyone meddling in her business, even if her beloved Faraway Inn has seen better days and could obviously use the help.

But Calisa has no desire to return home to face the fallout of her failed relationship. Determined not to be turned away, she digs in her heels and throws herself into being useful, hoping to prove she deserves to stay. But as she settles in, it quickly becomes clear that this isn’t an ordinary inn. The guests are a little too eccentric, the doors around the place don’t seem to lead where they should, and strange details begin to pile up, from winged lizards to a teapot that pours itself. Calisa senses that she’s not supposed to know any of this, especially with Auntie Zee guarding her secrets so closely. But with the help of Jack, the groundskeeper’s sweet and quietly charming son, she begins to uncover more of what the inn is hiding.

Durst has always had a talent for creating immersive settings, whether it’s a sweeping fantasy world or something more intimate and slice-of-life, the way it is here. The Faraway Inn itself easily steals the show. Even in its rundown state, there’s something deeply comforting about it, like a well-loved sweater or a chipped favorite mug. It feels like a place built for what it’s meant for, which is rest and restoration. Its guests come here to retreat from the stresses of wherever they came from, and the inn meets them where they are, offering a sanctuary to heal, reflect, or simply disappear for a while.

I also really liked how the magic is handled. It’s introduced gradually, in small, almost throwaway moments at first, before becoming something more central to the story. It’s an approach that perfectly fits the book’s gentle tone, even if it means the plot takes a little while to fully get off the ground. Still, once everything starts to come together, it’s easy to get pulled in.

The characters are also just as easy to spend time with. Admittedly, Calisa is a familiar kind of YA protagonist, dealing with young people problems like trying to figure out what to do with her post-high school life after putting so much of her heart into a relationship that didn’t work out. But her personality is grounded enough that she never comes across as overly dramatic or whiny, and I found her to be very likeable. Next comes Jack, who steps in as the obvious love interest, but they take their time developing their relationship. He’s sweet and supportive, if a little awkward, but the resulting chemistry between him and Calisa is adorable and genuinely endearing despite it being completely predictable. Auntie Zee, meanwhile, fills the role of the grumpy and stubborn innkeeper, and while her character development also follows a fairly predictable path, the tensions between her and Calisa add some needed friction early on.

Of course, the whole story doesn’t stray far from what you’d expect either, staying largely within its comfort zone. The plot also unfolds in a straightforward way, and some of the reveals are easy to anticipate. Furthermore, there’s the slower start I mentioned earlier, as everything is getting established before the magical elements take center stage. But for this kind of book, that’s not necessarily a drawback. The appeal is just as much about the atmosphere as it is the story itself, and on that front, it’s everything I wanted.

All in all, The Faraway Inn is a sweet, cozy fantasy that does exactly what it sets out to do. It’s not doing anything groundbreaking, but it’s charming, heartfelt, and filled with just enough magic to keep things engaging. An easy pick and a superb book if you’re in the mood for a light read that’s also quietly whimsical.

Deathstalker (New World Pictures, September 2, 1983)

A veritable cornucopia of dodgy barbarian and barbarian-adjacent movies that I have never watched before, and will probably never watch again.

Deathstalker (1983) – USA/Argentina

Inspired by a recent foray into the Conan the Cimmerian Barbarian: The Complete Weird Tales Omnibus, I suddenly had a hankering for more of the same, and so here we are.

Never one to miss an opportunity to cash in on a zeitgeist, Roger Corman saw the response to the the previous year’s Schwarzenegger grunt-a-thon and fast tracked this hokey slice of sword and sorcery, roping in sometime collaborator James Sbardellati to direct Howard R. Cohen’s cut and paste script.

Deathstalker (Rick Hill) is a wandering rogue fighter who loves nothing better than sticking his sword in people, literally and metaphorically speaking. He is quested by a witch to unearth a trio of macguffins in order to topple an evil sorcerer, Munkar (Bernard Erhard), and does so with the help of a diminutive goblin, a swarthy dude bro, and a female warrior whose idea of armour is a pair of knickers and a cloak.

Indeed, knockers and bum cheeks abound in this less than light-hearted romp, and the whole affair grows tiresome remarkably fast. Deathstalker himself isn’t even a fun anti-hero — the only time he is less than plank-like is when he’s sexually assaulting someone — leaving it very hard to root for him, let alone anyone, in this.

4/10

Deathstalker 2 (Concorde Pictures, September 12, 1987) Deathstalker 2 (1987) – USA/Argentina

Due to a multiple-picture deal with the Argentinian studios, and presumably some car payments, producer Roger Corman once again leaped into the Deathstalker world, still smarting that no one would let him make a Conan film. He roped in Jim Wynorski to direct, having just worked together on the altogether fab Chopping Mall (1986), and recast the titular lunk with John Terlesky.

Neil Ruttenberg’s script borrows heavily from an actual Robert E. Howard joint, the short story “A Witch Shall Be Born,” using the central premise of a kingdom overthrown by a doppelganger, and the usurped princess seeking the aid of a sword-swinging lothario.

This one (in an eventual series of three) is remembered quite fondly by sword and sandal enthusiasts, and that’s probably due to its more tongue-in-cheek nature, but this alone isn’t enough to save it. Yes, I enjoyed watching this one more than the first, but it’s still rubbish. Not only that but it pads out several scenes with footage from the first movie (Corman gripping those purse strings like a python in the temple of Set) and several scenes overstay their welcome, especially the Amazonian wrestling match.

It’s not all misery though, the two female leads, Monique Gabrielle in the dual role as the princess and her evil clone, and Maria Socas as the Amazon queen, are both really good and fun to watch. A female Deathstalker would have been excellent, but the 80s weren’t ready for that (don’t get me started on Red Sonja).

5/10

Deathstalker (Shout! Studios, October 10, 2025) Deathstalker (2025) – USA/Canada

Such is the nature of rose-tinted nostalgia goggles it was inevitable that an homage would be thrown together and quickly crowdfunded by a bunch of folk who remembered the kick-ass Boris Vallejo posters and copious tits of the 80s flicks. This remake is produced by Slash from Guns and Roses, and written and directed by Steven Kostanski, who made the excellent The Void (2016), and therefore got my hopes up.

In this version, Deathstalker (Daniel Bernhardt) loots a macguffin off a battlefield corpse and is instantly cursed with it. His witch friend tells him of a wizard who should be able to break the curse, and so begins his quest, which would ultimately be packed to the rafters with set-piece after set-piece.

Deathstalker teams up with said impish wizard, Doodad (voiced by Patton Oswald), and a feisty thief, Brisbayne (Christina Orjalo, very good). Together they go up against the demonic forces of Necromemnon and his lackey Jotak (Paul Lazenby), and much blood is spilled by all.

From the opening shot (a head is brutally removed from its owner in shocking close-up) I thought I was going to seriously enjoy this version, but as it progressed, and the humour took over, I started to find it more frustrating than enjoyable. This needed the Airplane treatment — instead of Deathstalker cracking gags, he needed to be absolutely straight-laced — let the lampoonary carry on around him.

That said, the production value is great for the budget and the gore is fantastic, so I did have some fun with it, just not as much as I had popped my corn for.

7/10

Masters of the Universe (The Cannon Group, August 7, 1987) Masters of the Universe (1987) – USA

Shockingly, I’ve never seen this dollop of American cheese-style product before, but I hardly knew the franchise, being British and 16 when the Filmation series first ran in 1983. Therefore I had no battlecat in the race and really wasn’t interested when the movie burst into cinemas (and flopped, contributing to the death of Cannon Films).

While doing a bit of digging (yes, I actually research these films after I’ve watched them and before I write this drivel), I learned that Mattel really hamstrung the production, which may have had a small part in its eventual dullness, but also, come on, all of Eternia to play with and the budget restricts three quarters of the film to the most deserted square mile of Whittier, California.

Storywise, Skeletor (Frank Langella, excellent) wants a macguffin invented by incredibly annoying, smashburger-faced Gwildor (Billy Barty), and when He-Man (Dolph Lungren, mercifully dubbed) gets accidentally transported to Earth, Skeletor sends his most inept commandos to hunt the device down and kill the blond bore. The macguffin, a portal-summoning synthesizer key, falls into the hands of Julie (Courtney Cox) and her undeserving boyfriend, Kevin (Robert Duncan McNeill), and a great many things get blown up with nary a single shocked reaction from the surrounding (missing) community.

Lots of chasing, cackling, and hair blowing in the wind ensues, but I fell asleep several times and had to keep rewinding it. Sorry to fans of this one.

6/10

The Barbarians (Cannon Releasing Corporation, March 20, 1987) The Barbarians (1987) – USA/Italy

A barbarian film from legendary horror-meister Ruggero (Cannibal Holocaust) Deodato? Sign me up! Is what I probably would have said in the late 80s, but being older now and suckered more times than I can remember, I didn’t go into this one with wild abandon. A wise decision as, despite Deodato’s frenetic direction and ability to squeeze every bit of sumptuousness from low-budget sets, the film is ultimately mind-numbing, and not in a good way.

On paper it should have worked; a classic sword and sorcery plot, Richard Lynch chewing the scenery, loin cloths and blood, but the film is hampered by terrible dialogue (and worse dubbing) and a pair of meatheads (David and Peter Paul as the titular Barbarian brothers) who pop veins and shout words with equal redundancy.

The story, which has its own macguffin in the form of a ruby, has a similar element to another film I’ll be reviewing next time (Iron Warrior) and throws forbidden lands, dragons, and torture at us in an attempt to distract us from the brothers, to no avail.

I know this reads like I disliked the film, but to be honest I actually had a fun time. It helped that Michael Berryman was wearing a headband with a single horn on it for much of the proceedings. What a good sport.

7/10

Previous Murky Movie surveys from Neil Baker include:

Probing Questions
My Top Thirty Films
The Star Warses
Just When You Thought It Was Safe
Tech Tok
The Weyland-Yutaniverse
Foreign Bodies
Mummy Issues
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes
Monster Mayhem
It’s All Rather Hit-or-Mythos
You Can’t Handle the Tooth
Tubi Dive
What Possessed You?

See all of Neil Baker’s Black Gate film reviews here. Neil spends his days watching dodgy movies, most of them terrible, in the hope that you might be inspired to watch them too. He is often asked why he doesn’t watch ‘proper’ films, and he honestly doesn’t have a good answer. He is an author, illustrator, teacher, and sculptor of turtle exhibits.

Pictures by David Hockney, published in 1979, was intended as a catalog of Hockney’s work…

The post The Language of a Painter’s Vocabulary in “Pictures,” by David Hockney appeared first on LitStack.

So, the introduction to the review copy of this book I received, written by Fonda, says that she was inspired to write this book as a result of a game where story ideas had to have the words ‘in space’ added at the end. Result: Samurai in space! The book is exactly that. Set on…

Adventure, October 10, 1922

Some science fiction authors like to cloak their histories in mystery, not content to keep the fiction in their writing. Lester Del Rey claimed he was born Ramon Felipe Alvarez-del Rey and that his family was killed in a car crash, although his sister confirms his birth name was Leonard Knapp and the accident only killed his first wife. Nothing F. Gwynplaine MacIntyre said about himself should be trusted. Nictzin Dyalhis is another author who appeared to create his own history.

According to his draft registration card, he was born on June 4, 1873 in Massachusetts, although he also claimed to have been born in 1880 and 1879 and variously in England in Pima, Arizona. His draft registration is also the first time the name Nictzin Dyalhis appears. It also notes that he lost an eye in his childhood.

In 1912, he married Harriet Lord, who was committed to the Warren State Hospital in the late 1920s and died there in 1959. Her death certificate shows two interesting things. First, it claims her husband’s name was Fred, which could be Dyalhis’ birth name. Second, it lists her as a widow, indicating she was never divorced. Despite this, Dyalhis remarried by 1930, to Mary Sheddy, although in the 1930 census her name is given as Netulyani Dyalhis (and later claims that her birth name was Netulyani Del Torres). Nictzin and Mary had a daughter, Mary, in 1932.

The Sapphire Goddess: The Fantasies of Nictzin Dyalhis, Cover by Margaret Brundage

Just as there is a question about Dyalhis’ first name, there is also speculation that Dyalhis is a playful spelling of the name Dallas, although in Literary Swordsmen and Sorcerers, L. Sprague de Camp explains that his father was a Welshman whose last name was Dyahlis, who had a fascination with the Aztec, from whom the name Nictzin was taken.

It appears that Dyalhis tried his hand at various jobs, which isn’t surprising given that his literary output is limited to a baker’s dozen stories. When he visited Arizona in 1913 with Harriet, he appears to have been involved in mining or panning for gold. In 1920, he listed himself as working as a chemist. While living in Waynesboro, Pennsylvania in 1930, he listed his occupation as a machinist at a tool manufacturing plant. He also claims to have spent time in Asia, where he was introduced to the occult, which is often seen in his writing.

His first published story was “Who Keep the Desert Law,” published in the October 20, 1922 issue of Adventure. In April of 1925, his story “When the Green Star Waned” was published in Weird Tales, where the majority of his stories would appear. “When the Green Star Waned” has the distinction of being the first known reference to a ray gun as a “blastor.” His stories fit in well with the Weird Tales vibe and have the feel of authors like Clark Ashton Smith and August Derleth, offering heroes dealing with supernatural and occult forces which seem to be manifestations of the natural order of things.

Dyalhis died in Salisbury, Maryland on May 8, 1942. His first wife died in 1959 and his second wife in 1977.

Steven H Silver is a twenty-one-time Hugo Award nominee and was the publisher of the Hugo-nominated fanzine Argentus as well as the editor and publisher of ISFiC Press for eight years. He has also edited books for DAW, NESFA Press, and ZNB. His most recent anthology is Alternate Peace and his novel After Hastings was published in 2020. Steven has chaired the first Midwest Construction, Windycon three times, and the SFWA Nebula Conference numerous times. He was programming chair for Chicon 2000 and Vice Chair of Chicon 7.

In April I read 6 books. You can see the reviews for all of them, which ones were my favorite, etc. below. Hope you all had a great month of reading!

I started the following series:

• None

I finished the following series:

• None

My Favorite Books of the Month Were:

• Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki (5/5 stars)
• God’s Junk Drawer by Peter Clines (4.5/5 stars)
• Under Fortunate Stars by Ren Hutchings (5/5 stars)

– Goodreads Reading Challenge (Progress: 39/150)

The full list of books that I read this month are shown below:
1. Platform Decay (The Murderbot Diaries, Book 8) by Martha Wells (4/5 stars)
2. Light From Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki (5/5 stars)
3. Dating After the End of the World by Jeneva Rose (2/5 stars)
4. Sparks and Landmarks (Mitzy Moon Mysteries, Book 4) by Trixie Silvertale, Narrated by Coleen Marlo (4/5 stars)
5. God’s Junk Drawer by Peter Clines (4.5/5 stars)
6. Under Fortunate Stars by Ren Hutchings (5/5 stars)

Reading Level: Adult
Genre: Steampunk/Historical Fantasy
Length: 3 hours and 59 minutes
Publisher: AIBHS
Release Date: June 06, 2022
ASIN: June 06, 2022
Stand Alone or Series: 1st book in the Inspector Davidson Steampunk Mysteries
Source: Audiobook from Audible
Rating: 3/5 stars

“Alternate France, 1871. Art historian Veronica Devine dreams of putting her husband’s betrayal behind her. So she’s grateful for the somewhat distracting mission to transport a valuable collection from a French chateau across the Atlantic. But before her voyage even begins, she’s attacked by thieves and saved by a mysterious stranger.

Luc, the Marquis de Monceau’s, fate is bound to an enchanted ancestral painting. After fleeing the Prussian invasion, his survival hinges on protecting an alias that preserves the rumor of his death. So when the beautiful woman he saves insists she has permission to remove his portraits, he has no choice but to escort her aboard a luxury airship.

Within the confines of the majestic vessel, Veronica and Luc soon discover they have more in common than a love of art. But cryptic messages, a clockwork automaton, and conniving passengers threaten to ground their romantic aspirations.

Will Veronica and Luc unravel the mystery of the masterpiece before dark forces from his past send their ship into the depths?”

Series Info/Source: This is the first book in the Inspector Davidson Steampunk Mysteries. I listened to this on audiobook.

Thoughts: This book had a lot of elements I thought I would like. I did like them, but everything felt underdeveloped and not a lot actually happened.

Veronica is an art historian that gets attacked by pirates while “acquiring” some art. Her team is saved by a mysterious man. Luc is the Marquis of Monceau and is searching for an enchanted ancestral painting and he needs to take a look at some of Veronica “acquired” paintings. When Veronica ends up on an airship to America with the artwork in question, Luc follows her. While on the airship, they encounter others who are after the same powerful piece of art.

This is supposed to be an adventurous steampunk romance. However, I found all the elements of the story to be a bit lacking. There are mentions of intriguing things in this world; gods, enchanted artifacts, automatons, etc. Nothing is really explained or built out; it leaves reader with a glimpse of a world that could be intriguing, if only we got a chance to learn something about it. This is something many novellas struggle with and few do well. Unfortunately, this book really struggles with this.

The characters are very stereotypical and lack depth. Veronica is the strong-willed widow who was suppressed by men her whole life and intends to take the reins of her life and make the best of it. Luc is a long-lived Marquis who lost an eye and is scarred from the loss. Luc doubts his worth because of his marred features, but Veronica sees beyond his surface to his bravery and honesty. The bad guys are just as cookie cutter. The “relationship” that develops between Veronica and Luc seems like it’s supposed to be slow burn, but then feels very abrupt by the end of the book. Again, there was potential here but it just wasn’t executed well.

Additionally, the pacing is not great. The beginning is exciting, the middle is horribly boring, and then the ending gets exciting again. There are so many ways this story could have been amazing; the bones of a cool world are here, and these characters could be interesting with a bit more. Everything just feels sketched out and unfinished.

I listened to this on audiobook and the audiobook was not very well done. The narrator slipped between character’s voices a lot (accidentally using the wrong voice for the wrong character). In general, the narrator’s voice didn’t seem well suited for this story. I would recommend reading this book and not listening to it.

Based on other reviews it looks like the full length novel in this series is more well received. Unfortunately, I was looking for a quick audiobook to listen to on a shortish road trip and I just didn’t enjoy this. My husband was in the car as well and actually flat out stopped listening to it about an hour in because he was bored.

My Summary (3/5): Overall this was okay, I think the world has potential and a lot of the themes are ones I like. Everything about this is underdeveloped, though. The characters are stereotypical, and we get faint glimpses of a potentially fascinating world that is never well developed. The audiobook narration was just plain old bad. I don’t plan on reading any more books in this series, which is a shame because I am always on the look out for a new fascinating steampunk world.

Other LitStack Spots We’ve spotted a few other titles to add to our TBR stack,…

The post Spotlight on “Waiting on a Friend” by Natalie Adler appeared first on LitStack.

Strong Poison, by Dorothy Sayers (Avon Books #328, 1951)

In Strong Poison, Sayers gives Peter Wimsey a love interest, and makes this central to the story. Traditional mystery writers had avoided this kind of plot (Irene Adler, for example, was clearly not romantically involved with Sherlock Holmes, however profound an impression she made on him).

Not all of her readers welcomed the innovation. In particular, Harriet Vane, a successful author of detective stories, was sometimes looked at as what fan fiction readers now call a “self-insertion” by Sayers — a view that gains plausibility from Vane’s involvement in a love affair, given what we know now about Sayers’s life story.

We first meet Vane in a courtroom, where she is being tried for the murder of her former lover, Philip Boyes, a less successful but more artistically pretentious novelist (what little is said of his books suggests Aldous Huxley’s early novels, before Brave New World made him immortal).

[Click the images for stronger versions.]

Strong Poison (Brewer and Warren, 1930)

Boyes died of arsenic poisoning, and Vane had bought arsenic twice in the time leading up to his death, and had seen him the night he died, so the circumstantial evidence looks damning.

Sayers has the judge sum up the testimony for the jury and advise them as to what points they need to decide, a handy device for exposition. The jury is out for a long time, from just after lunch till well into the evening, and finally ends up hung, nine to three.

One of the three is Wimsey’s ally Miss Climpson (introduced in Unnatural Death), who holds out against a lot of pressure from the foreman and most of the other jurors, saying that the prisoner’s demeanor is part of the evidence and Vane’s demeanor isn’t that of a murderer.

Strong Poison (Tower, 1945)

Wimsey himself, who apparently has been in the audience throughout the trial, seems to have reached the same conclusion; he’s convinced enough of Vane’s innocence to criticize her solicitor for treating this as a job of casting doubt on her guilt. But at the same time, he has decided to marry Vane, having fallen in love with her. He says as much to her when he first interviews her in prison, and is taken aback when she says, “Oh, are you another of them? That makes forty-seven.”

Wimsey’s closest friend, Charles Parker, makes an appearance, in two roles. On one hand, he’s initially convinced that Vane is guilty, though he provides Wimsey with help in looking for evidence to the contrary.

Strong Poison (Pocket Books, 1945)

On the other, he and Wimsey’s sister Mary have fallen in love with each other, and the issues of social class this raises parallel those between Wimsey and Vane neatly; their older brother, the Duke of Denver, is horrified at both prospects.

The use of arsenic makes this another mystery that turns on medical knowledge — or, in this case, on medical folklore. Once again, Sayers focuses less on who than on how.

Strong Poison (Avon Books, 1969)

When Wimsey has his manservant Bunter put away some books he’s been consulting, one of which is A Shropshire Lad, I recognized, and so (to his credit) did Bunter, that this was a reference to the poem “Epilogue” (or “Terence, This Is Stupid Stuff”), which ends with the legend of Mithridates:

There was a king reigned in the East.
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink . . .

Strong Poison (Harper & Row paperback edition)

In fact, this is a book filled with quotations and allusions; and the exchange of both between Wimsey and Vane is one of the first signs that they might actually belong together. The poem neatly hints at the method (which is one that is no longer thought to be workable) and at how Wimsey proves his case.

Beyond how, there’s also why: the motive for the crime. And here, as in Unnatural Death (and An Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, which came in between), family history and financial assets come into the story.

Strong Poison (HarperCollins, 1987)

Both Boyes and his cousin Norman Urquhardt, a solicitor, with whom he dined on the night of his death, have family connections to Rosanna Wrayburn (née Hubbard), a famous actress of the 1860s who led a scandalous life, under the stage name of Cremorna Garden, and invested the many gifts it brought her, making her wealthy in her old age. Sayers seems to like stories about women who rebelled against Victorian expectations in various ways!

Wimsey gets together with Miss Climpson early in the investigation and discusses possible motives with her; and later he calls on both her and another woman in his agency, Miss Murchison, to investigate various aspects of the case. In Miss Climpson’s case that involves her playing the role of a spirit medium for Mrs. Wrayburn’s credulous nurse (a great bit of comic relief!); Miss Murchison gets lessons in lockpicking from a former burglar, Bill Rumm, who reformed and got religion after an earlier encounter with Wimsey.

Dorothy L. Sayers Mysteries adaptations featuring Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane:
Strong Poison, Have His Carcase, and Gaudy Night (BBC Video, 2002)

Knowing why gives Wimsey confirmation of who. There are also connections with the Megatherium Trust (named for the giant ground sloth!), on which Wimsey gets helpful advice from his friend Freddy Arbuthnot — who has just become engaged to Rachel Levy, the daughter of the murder victim in Whose Body?, another matrimonial crossing of established social boundaries.

We also see Wimsey consulting with Marjorie Phelps, an artist who makes porcelain figures, for a better understanding of Vane’s cultural milieu. In particular, she introduces him to Vane’s friends Sylvia Marriott and Eiluned Price, who give him more background on Vane’s relationship with Boyes.

Strong Poison (Hodder & Stoughton/Coronet Crime trade paperback, 1993)

Price is characterized as generally disliking men, which might or might not be a hint about her sexuality, but at the end of the novel she tells Vane that Wimsey is too decent to be importunate in his courtship, so it seems he managed to make a good impression on her.

The chapter where Wimsey talks with the three women doesn’t seem to advance his investigation much; its function seems to be more one of characterization — notably Phelps’s silent unhappiness at the end, which hints at something unspoken between her and Wimsey.

Strong Poison (Harper Paperbacks, 2012)

On one hand, I can’t regret the introduction of Harriet Vane into the series; she will play a significant role in some of the later novels, and even in this one her characterization is interesting.

On the other, while it’s in character for Wimsey to decide she’s innocent and take up investigating her case, it seems implausible for him to fall in love with her after having merely seen her in the witness box in a courtroom. I feel as if Sayers didn’t feel able to show the beginning of the attraction convincingly and fell back on making it a fait accompli.

And Wimsey’s declaration of his feelings during his first interview with Vane is awkward in a way that’s hard to believe of a man of such suavity. The events of Strong Poison are central to the series, but they make me wonder if the story Sayers was telling had gotten out of her control. So I can understand why some of her readers may have thought this particular storyline was ill-advised.

Strong Poison by Dorothy L Sayers (Four Square UK edition, 1960)

On the other hand, Sayers’s fusion of a murder mystery with a novel about courtship and social class certainly breaks the series out of any previously established formula, which is part of what makes it interesting.

“Forgive my asking, but — you were very fond of Philip Boyes?”
“I must have been, mustn’t I — under the circumstances?”
“Not necessarily,” said Wimsey, boldly, “you might have been sorry for him — or bewitched by him — or even badgered to death by him.”
“All those things.”

William H. Stoddard is a professional copy editor specializing in scholarly and scientific publications. As a secondary career, he has written more than two dozen books for Steve Jackson Games, starting in 2000 with GURPS Steampunk. He lives in Lawrence, Kansas with his wife, their cat (a ginger tabby), and a hundred shelf feet of books, including large amounts of science fiction, fantasy, and graphic novels.

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Hive by Ronald Malfi

Mogsy’s Rating: 3 of 5 stars

Genre: Horror, Thriller

Series: Stand Alone

Publisher: Titan Books (April 14, 2026)

Length: 768 pages

Author Information: Website

I’ll be honest. Seeing the sheer size of The Hive when it first landed on my doorstep made me a little nervous. Ronald Malfi has been a must-read author for me for years and I’ve gotten used to his reliably mid-sized novels, the kind I can usually power through in just a couple of sittings thanks to how addictively readable they are. Hence, it’s why this sprawling doorstopper, which I’ve seen described elsewhere as his “tour de force,” felt like a bit of a curveball. Sure, knowing it’s been a long-term passion project for him definitely raises expectations, but from experience, I also know that doesn’t always work in the book’s favor.

Set in a small Chesapeake Bay town on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, the story opens in the aftermath of a violent storm that leaves behind the usual chaos of scattered debris. At first glance, there doesn’t seem to be anything unusual about it. Just a jumble of everyday knickknacks torn loose and flung across lawns and streets. But for some residents of Mariner’s Cove, there’s more to these objects than meets the eye. Each person finds themselves drawn to a particular item, whether it’s a door ripped from its frame or an old metal colander. As these things start to exert a powerful pull on their owners, sparking an obsession that grows more intense by the day, neighbors begin hiding their finds, guarding them ferociously, becoming irrationally angry when questioned, and generally behaving in increasingly erratic and disturbing ways.

While these changes are occurring on an individual level, something else is taking shape on a larger scale. A strange, hive-like consciousness is slowly emerging, manifesting as a low constant buzz consuming the minds of the affected townsfolk. Those who hear it can sense it building into something almost harmonious, connecting and binding them, guiding them towards something they cannot fully explain. And yet, not everyone has been touched by this madness. Several remain on the outside, watching as friends and neighbors transform into something they barely recognize. Among them is a young boy who discovers he possesses a strange ability, one that may be tied to whatever is happening. As the multiple perspectives begin to converge, a pattern is gradually revealed, and with it, the realization that whatever is taking root in Mariner’s Cove is building toward something far more dangerous.

If all of that sounds a little Stephen King-esque, it’s because yeah, it’s definitely is. The influence is unmistakable, from the small-town setting and the ensemble cast right down to the young boy coming into his supernatural powers. The Hive taps into a very familiar nostalgic and immersive vibe, and Malfi is good at creating an atmosphere of creeping horror. There’s also this persistent sense of dread, a lot of it brought about by the idea of ordinary everyday objects triggering a scary fixation in regular people in a quiet, insidious way.

But here’s also where things get a little shaky. I’m talking about places where Malfi seems to have picked up some of King’s less appealing habits. For one thing, The Hive is long. Reeeaally long. And the length isn’t always justified. In many sections of the book, the pacing is a slow burn in the most frustrating of ways, with stretches where the story feels like it’s inching forward, or worse, treading water and biding time instead of building momentum. We circle the same ideas and scenes a lot, with many interactions feeling repetitive or unnecessary. It takes a while for the many plot threads to come together and tighten up.

I also have mixed feelings on the multiple POV structure. On the one hand, the different voices help flesh out the town and give a broader view of how the strange phenomenon is spreading. On the other hand, not all characters are given equal weight or development or page time. Some start off feeling important, only to fade into the background later, while others carry more of the emotional load. That imbalance made it harder to keep track of an already bloated cast list, especially when the story detours into perspectives that don’t seem to pay off in any meaningful way.

That said, there are still plenty of moments that reminded me of why I love the author’s books and why I still think he’ll keep carrying on being a standout name in horror fiction. When The Hive plays up its strengths, like the moments of grotesque body horror or the psychological thrills, that’s when the novel really delivers. Malfi’s writing is also powerful, with an underlying weirdness and surreal quality to it that really sells the blurb’s tease of cosmic Lovecraftian horror.

In the end, The Hive is a solid read, but I so very much wish it had been a bit more balanced and succinct. I would recommend it to fans of Stephen King, but I would also note that, like many of King’s earlier books, this one probably could have used more rigorous editing to trim down the fat, improve the story’s pacing, and sharpen focus. Speaking as someone who will still always pick up anything Ronald Malfi writes, it’s definitely worth checking out, but it’ll help going in prepared with the knowledge that this is much slower and heavier than this usual work.

Young Blood (Zebra Books, March 1994). Cover uncredited

Young Blood, from Zebra 1994, Edited by Mike Baker. Cover looks like a photo: Artist unknown.

Here’s another book I picked up originally because it had a Robert E. Howard story in it. This one’s different, though. It isn’t a collection of Sword & Sorcery tales, but of horror stories. The Howard story is “Pigeons From Hell,” which is somewhat universally recognized as the best of his supernatural tales. In Danse Macabre, his nonfiction book on horror, Stephen King called it “one of the finest horror stories of our century.” I agree.

[Click the images for bloody versions.]

Young Blood contents

The collection also has stories by King, Ramsey Campbell, Robert Block, Poe, Michael Scott Bricker, Clark Perry, Lawrence Schimel, Tia Travis, Wayne Edwards, Pamela Briggs, Barb Hendee, Lorelei Shannon, Todd Mecklem, Marc Paoletti, Dominick Cancilla, Sean Doolittle, Terry Campbell, H. Andrew Lynch, Brian Evenson, James C. Basett, M. Francis Hamill, Gordon Gelder, Cristopher Hall, J. F. Gonzalez, Jak Koke & Jonathan Bond, Adam Fusco, Tim Waggoner, and Poppy Z. Brite & Christa Faust.

I knew a lot of these names, though not all, and I’ve had pleasant dealings with such folks as Hendee, Mecklem, Bond and Waggoner. I also knew Poppy Brite at this time, although he is now known as William Joseph Martin (1967 -).

Young Blood introduction by Mike Baker

Brite’s collaboration, “Saved,” is by far the most graphic story in the book. I enjoyed it but was glad I hadn’t eaten recently.

My favorite story in the book, (other than Howard of course) was by Schimel. It was called “An Eye for an Eye, A Tooth for a Tooth.” It was absolutely hilarious. And one great idea.

Charles Gramlich administers The Swords & Planet League group on Facebook, where this post first appeared. His last article for us was a look at The Cornerstones of High Fantasy. See all of his recent posts for Black Gate here.

Thank you so very much to all of this year’s guests for making April 2026 another incredible Women in SF&F Month! And thank you to everyone who shared guest posts and helped spread the word about this year’s series. It is always very much appreciated! Now that all of this year’s essays are up, I wanted to make sure there was a way to find all guest posts from 2026. This was (somehow) the fifteenth annual Women in SF&F Month, which […]

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Here are 7 Author Shoutouts for this week. Find your favorite author or discover an…

The post 7 Author Shoutouts | Authors We Love To Recommend appeared first on LitStack.

Reading Level: Adult
Genre: Science Fiction
Length: 476 pages
Publisher: Entangled: Rebellion Publishing Ltd
Release Date: May 10, 2022
ASIN: B09SVVVXKR
Stand Alone or Series: Stand Alone
Source: Borrowed ebook from library
Rating: 5/5 stars

“Fleeing the final days of the generations-long war with the alien Felen, smuggler Jereth Keeven’s freighter the Jonah breaks down in a strange rift in deep space, with little chance of rescue—until they encounter the research vessel Gallion, which claims to be from 152 years in the future.

The Gallion’s chief engineer Uma Ozakka has always been fascinated with the past, especially the tale of the Fortunate Five, who ended the war with the Felen. When the Gallion rescues a run-down junk freighter, Ozakka is shocked to recognize the Five’s legendary ship—and the Five’s famed leader, Eldric Leesongronski, among the crew.

But nothing else about Leesongronski and his crewmates seems to match up with the historical record. With their ships running out of power in the rift, more than the lives of both crews may be at stake…”

Series Info/Source: This is a stand alone book. I borrowed this on ebook through my library.

Thoughts: I ended up thoroughly enjoying this sci-fi story about time travel and its inevitability. The characters are very well done, and the story is cleverly woven together. The mystery really pulls the reader along, and there are fun twists throughout the story, even up until the very end. This is action packed and hard to put down.

Jereth Keevan’s freighter breaks down in a strange rift in deep space during the final days of a war with the Felen. The Gallion (a research ship) finds themselves trapped in the same strange rift. When the two ships discover each other in the rift, they find out that their timelines seem to be 152 years apart. Keevan’s crew should be from the past, and the Gallion crew should know that past well, however nothing is matching up. Both crews are forced to put aside this mystery to escape this rift alive.

This book jumps back and forth between current time (in the rift) and each of the characters’ pasts. This was very well done and really allows us to get to know the individual characters and the reasons behind their actions better. The jumps back in time relate to something happening in present time, so the switches in POV and time worked really well together and didn’t seem jarring or hard to follow.

I found this book incredibly engaging, fast-paced, and surprising. I enjoyed every second of reading this and looked forward to picking it up to read. Between this book, “God’s Junk Drawer”, and “Light from Uncommon Stars”, I have been on a bit of a sci-fi kick, I guess. I have read some excellent sci-fi reads this month.

My Summary (5/5): Overall I really loved this. I loved the unique way the story was put together, the characters, the fast-pace, and the constant surprises. This book kept me very engaged and was hard to put down. I loved the way everything came together in the end and enjoyed the twists and turns that were thrown at the reader. I definitely plan on checking out Hutchings’ other novels.

Good afterevenmorn, Readers!

So… I’m a nerd. I know, surprising, right? What might actually be surprising, though, is that I’ve never actually played a game of Dungeons & Dragons. I mean, I’ve had a couple of home-brewed one-shots many years ago, but I’m never actually played a proper campaign, with a regular crew. That changed this year. I started with a friend, who was part of another group, who then created a splinter group for a different game. I am part of that splinter group, starting a new campaign at ground zero.

Can I just say, I am loving it. It’s a very excellent way to explore character and motivation, as well as world-building and story-telling. If you struggle with any of these, consider starting a D&D campaign. Let’s explore what’s going on in my game, because I’m too enamoured with it currently not to share.

First, because I’m relatively new to the whole thing, I started out basic. The character I chose is closest to myself in both appearance and temperament, which is to say I am playing a human fighter. She’s wildly idealistic, believing her strength and talents should be used to protect those who cannot protect themselves. She is the embodiment of my favourite quote from The Lord of the Rings, as articulated by my favourite captain of Gondor, Faramir.

I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.

Which, incidentally, I intend to have tattooed to my person one of these days.

Unlike the devastating stories of early childhood trauma that seems to be the norm for player characters, Tabynthia’s childhood was happy. She grew up in a tiny village, who, like Sparta raises fighters. Unlike Sparta, however, this society is kind and open, and are directly responsible for instilling her belief that it is her duty in this life to defend the defenseless and protect the innocent.

Everyone, regardless of race or ability has a place in this village, provided they adhere to the tenants of life there (on of Taby’s best friends is a half-orc, whose father orcish father fell in love with one of the fighters when she was out in the world, and followed her, eventually joining the village, earning a living as a smith). Only those who are able are raised as warriors, and sent out into the world to make their mark and earn coin and when their adventuring is done, assuming they live, they return home to help raise and train the next generation of defenders.

The manner in which they make their coin matters, and upon their death, they must face the judgement of their ancestors, making a full accounting of their deeds in life. Only the worthy are permitted to join the ancestors in their eternal festivities. Everyone else is sent back to right their wrongs, or to try again and become worthy. Taby was loved by bother her parents, both of whom  are still alive. Her mother trained her in the fighting arts, and her grandmother, a great hero of her time, coached her in ethics growing up. Her father simply proudly doted. She is out in the world now as a young adult, attempting to make the world better for her being there.

That’s my character. I mean in game.

D&D, for everyone! Except the first guy. Not him.

This is a very fun dynamic in game to play. It makes for some really interesting choices for the character; a narrative choice. Does Taby permit the horrors of the world make of her a cold, hardened warrior, or does she make the very deliberate choice to lean even harder into the kindness and belief in goodness that stands at the core of her upbringing? Will she maintain the belief in herself instilled in her by a family that loved and supported her, or will she fall into the trap of having her self of self erode away, leaving her in despair regarding her own abilities? Save the fortune or misfortune of the roll of the dice, everything about a character is a deliberate choice on the part of the player.

It’s a great way to examine character choices in narrative, for those of us who are writers. It’s also an interesting way to examine our choice in the real world. I know for a fact that I’ve often turned to thoughts of my character when I’ve been personally struggling. What would Tabynthia do? She’s become a source of inspiration for me… which is weird, since I made her up. But it’s true.

This is also the first time I’ve played in a world that isn’t of my own creation. This is a very new experience for me. I have never written fan fiction, and I haven’t partnered with another author to create a story together. So this is something that I approached with considerable trepidation. It can be really tough creating in a world that has constraints you did not yourself create, and so might have trouble keeping your character or actions within the bounds of those constraints.

This is a good thing, I think; an excellent exercise for writer. I have read a few writers who break their own world rules without any valid justification (“because the narrative demands it” is not sufficient). I’ve also read a lot of characters that are able to magically do something that doesn’t make sense for their characters to be able to do. Practice not being able to do these things, as is offered by D&D, can help here I think.

Incidentally, though I’ve not dabbled in it, fan fiction can also help with this, as it is someone else’s world and, if done correctly, rules. It can also break the world, but let’s not talk about that too much.

I have to say, the DM running my particular game is quite forgiving when it comes to permitting me to create the whole damned culture which gave us Tabynthia. This small collection of villages in northern Faerûn doesn’t exist explicitly in the books I was given to help me get a handle on the game. But I was allowed to have Tabynthia come from there all the same. He’s also extremely patient in talking me through what my character can do, so I can make informed choices in any interaction. So, depending on your DM, you may have a lot more leeway to exercise your imagination while still being mostly true to the game. Though I still grimace at his evil little chuckles.

How it feels any time the dice favour me. Image by Lixxe from Pixabay

This game also helps put you right in the shoes of your protagonist (and every player is the protagonist in their version of the story), so for anyone who struggles to see an alternate perspective, or having a character act differently from themselves in their fiction, this is a great way to exercise that particular muscle.

In order to do that, though, you must be willing to emphasize the role-playing aspect of this game. I have been letting my buried once-theatre kid have a ball with this character. It might take a bit for someone not used to inhabiting a role in this way to be able to do it, and perhaps a little longer to be comfortable doing it in a group setting, but it is well worth it; not just because it’s really fun, but also because it’s really good for seeing through another’s eyes. In writing and in life, this can only be a good thing.

Dungeons & Dragons is not just a great way to gather and play, but it can be a really serious exercise in good writing, in writing practice, and, like most fiction, dissecting the real world in which we live, and the actions of those in it in a more hands-on way than reading often permits (unless you’re like me, in which case you get so into a book you’re practically living it).

If you haven’t tried your hand at it yet, this is your sign to give it a go. Finding a good crew with a good DM can often be a challenge (hoy boy, have I heard some horror stories), but it’s well worth it if they can be found.

When S.M. Carrière isn’t brutally killing your favorite characters, she spends her time teaching martial arts, live streaming video games, and sometimes painting. In other words, she spends her time teaching others to kill, streaming her digital kills, and sometimes relaxing. Her most recent titles include Daughters of Britain, Skylark and Human. The Timbercreek Incident is free to read on Wattpad.

Epic Horror is one of the most ambitious kinds of horror stories to tell. Horror is a genre that relies a great deal on tension and can often be strengthened by intimacy of character or situation. In other words, relatively small stakes. Maintaining a level of tension and mounting dread over the course of a…

Today’s Women in SF&F Month guest is Ai Jiang! Her poetry and short stories include “We Smoke Pollution,” winner of the 2023 Ignyte Award for Best in Speculative Poetry, and “Give Me English,” a Nebula and Locus Award finalist for Best Short Story. She is also the author of the Bram Stoker and Nebula Award–winning horror novella Linghun and the science fantasy novel An Empire in the Clouds (coming in September). Her next book, A River From the Sky, comes […]

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Other LitStack Spots We’ve also added a few other titles to our TBR stack, including…

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The Coen Brothers are among the finest filmmakers of my lifetime. Joel and younger brother Ethan started with Blood Simple in 1984, writing, directing, and producing together for the next few decades. And they produced some of the era’s best films. Dark comedies like Raising Arizona, Barton Fink, Fargo, and Intolerable Cruelty. The Big Lebowski is a prolific meme generator. And O Brother, Where Art Thou is a masterful ‘modern’ retelling of The Odyssey.

They raised the Noir stakes from Blood Simple, making The Man Who Wasn’t There (a black-and-white film in 2001? That’s bold). And the chilling No Country for Old Men.

Miller’s Crossing – heavily influenced by Dashiell Hammett’s The Glass Key – is one of my Top Five Hardboiled films of all time,

Joel worked as an assistant film editor (back in the days when they literally cut and spliced together reels of film) for 1981’s Evil Dead. That was the first movie which Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell made (that’s a post subject some day). A friendship formed between Joel and Sam, and the ‘two camps’ would intertwine.

The Coens made a ‘fake trailer’ for Blood Simple, and Campbell – who is not in the movie – played the murder victim. The Coens’ next film was Crimewave (written with, and directed by, Raimi), and they wrote the lead for Campbell. He wasn’t remotely a star yet, and the studio wanted ‘a name’ and vetoed the choice. The brothers and Raimi created an entirely new part – Renaldo ‘The Heel’ – to get Bruce in the movie.

And to tie all this together, Bruce and Sam played parts in my vote for the most underrated Coen Brothers film, The Hudsucker Proxy. It’s simply brilliant. You could call it a screwball comedy, with satire, and oddly, some fantasy mixed in.

It BOMBED at the box office, finishing 174 (domestic) for the year. And #176 was Red Rock West, which is one of the best Noirs you’ve never seen. There’s no accounting for taste.

Beyond the story basics, this is gonna be a spoiler-free essay. You should explore the movie yourself.

Between Bull Durham, and The Hudsucker Proxy, Tim Robbins had become well-respected in 1992 for The Player (box office #67), and Bob Roberts (#129). These were insightful satires. The Player elevates by being a terrific movie in which it’s hard to find someone to root for. That is not easy to pull off. (I know, by default it’s gotta be Gretta Sacchi. But I found her tiresome).

In 1994, Robbins played bumpkin Norvell Barnes, hitting the big city in 1958, fresh out of the Muncie School of Business. He gets a job in the mail room of Hudsucker Industries, just as a change is occurring on the top floor. And at ground level as well.

Paul Newman is the crusty, cigar-smoking, sleazy, right-hand man, and he’s an absolute delight. One of my favorite performances of his. He has a scheme that involves elevating Barnes to President of the company, and he supports his bizarre product idea.

With the working name Extruded Plastic Dingus, there’s a montage of the different design, development, promotion, and production phases of this new item ‘You know, for kids.’

There’s a lot of hoopla for a simple product. The satire is highlighted by the Advertising secretary reading War & Peace, and then Anna Kerinina, while the ad men toss out slogan after slogan.

It’s all done in a visual fifties corporate style, and it’s fun to watch. The Coens were clever and intentionally thoughtful. The burst of color they use for the Dingus after these bland scenes is more evidence of their skill and ability to make enduring films.

Then, it’s THE montage, with the dingus, and the kids. Sam Raimi directed this, and he has a cameo alongside John Cameron, another of The Evil Dead crew. I think that Raimi is one of the truly excellent filmmakers of this era (like the Coens), and this is a masterful montage.

Watch the facial expressions, the way the scene moves forward visually with the music (there’s no dialogue). The plot explodes in this montage, without using any words. Don’t scroll on your phone – really watch this. Even the price stickers going back up is clever. This movie is full of ‘smart funny’ elements; you pick up on more things, the more you watch it.

Such as, keep an eye on the changes in Robbin’s character as it goes along. It’s shown visually, bit by bit. It presages one of the episodes in The Ballad of Buster Scruggs. The Coen Brothers are really good at telling a story.

There’s a lot of movie left, and I’ll leave the rest of the story to your viewing. A fantastical element becomes a key part, and it’s always struck me as a bit jarring, but it sticks together.

Jennifer Jason Leigh is Amy Archer (who never fails to mention she’s won a Pulitzer Prize), a fast-talking newspaper reporter. John Mahoney (Frasier) is her editor, and Bruce Campbell is a fellow reporter. The Coens put together a terrific cast – folks even in single scenes. It’s got Charles Durning and Bill Cobbs, and look for Peter Gallagher, Steve Buscemi, Anna Nicole Smith, John Goodman (maybe listen for him), and Richard Schiff.

And if you are a fan of The Wire, you are gonna love EVERY scene Jim True-Frost is in. He’s delightful. Seriously.

While box office revenues are certainly a valid way to assess a movie’s success or failure, it’s certainly not the sole determinant of a movie’s worth. On a $25 million budget, Hudsucker only brought in $2.8 million, and it had no international release. It barely made back one-tenth of its budget.

The Coens’ next two movies would be Fargo, and The Big Lebowski. The boys continued to be popular but not commercially successful (Fargo, #75, Lebowski #98). Even O Brother, Where Art Thou, which was a financial hit, still was only the #58 movie of 2001.

But movie fans can rattle off movie after movie, when asked what they like by the Coens. The box office isn’t the measure of the Coen Brothers’ quality. They made smart, or funny, or dark, or satirical, or thoughtful – usually a mix of at least two of those qualities – movies. I have a friend who thought Intolerable Cruelty was just okay. I think it’s hilarious. And we both think the Coens remade True Grit as well as anyone could have. You just need to watch a few of their movies to appreciate them.

I drifted away from their stuff starting with Burn After Reading, and The Ballad of Buster Scruggs is the last thing I saw (and Hail Caesar! fell flat for me). But a half dozen-ish of them are among the best movies I’ve seen. The Coens were THAT good. If you only saw The Hudsucker Proxy, and Miller’s Crossing, your life would have been blessed. Though O Brother, Where Art Thou is great in so many ways – especially for this Greek mythology geek.

The Hudsucker Proxy isn’t the same kind of cult classic which Firefly, or even The Big Lebowski, is. But people who know, love this one. And many of us rank it higher than the better-known Coens movies. Regardless, this is a treat to watch, and it doesn’t grow stale with additional viewings.

You can watch The Hudsucker Proxy for free, on Tubi. This world is a dumpster fire. We all have things we watch, or listen to, to help us deal with it. To step away from all the crap. If you wanna sit down and watch something funny and thoughtful, this is the movie for you.

Some previous entries on things to watch:

Let’s Go to the Movies: 1996
Firefly – The Animated Reboot
What I’ve Been Watching – February 2026 (The Night Manager, SS-GB, Best Medicine)
What I’ve Been Watching – October 2026 (Return to Paradise, Lynley, Expend4bles, and more)
What I’ve Been Watching – August 2025 (Ballard, Resident Alien, Twisted Metal, and more)
What I’ve Been Watching – May 2025 (County Line, The Bondsman, Bosch: Legacy)
What I’ve Been Watching – October 2024 (What We Do in the Shadows, The Bay, Murder in a Small Town)
What I’m Watching – November 2023 (Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Caine Mutiny Court Martial, A Haunting in Venice)
What I’m Watching – April 2023 (Florida Man, Picard – season three, The Mandalorian)
The Pale Blue Eye, and The Glass Onion: Knives Out
Tony Hillerman’s Dark Winds
The Rings of Power (Series I wrote on this show – all links at this one post)
What I’m Watching – December 2022 (Frontier, Leverage: Redemption)
What I’m Watching – November 2022 (Tulsa King, Andor, Fire Country, and more)
What I’m Watching – September 2022 (Galavant, Firefly, She-Hulk, and more)
What I’m Watching- April 2022 (Outer Range, Halo, Why Didn’t They Ask Evans, and more)
When USA Network was Kicking Major Butt (Monk, Psych, Burn Notice)
You Should be Streaming These Shows (Corba Kai, The Expanse, Bosch, and more)
What I’m BritBoxing – December 2021 (Death in Paradise, Shakespeare & Hathaway, The Blake Mysteries, and more)
To Boldly Go – Star Treking – (Various Star Trek incarnations)
What I’ve Been Watching – August 2021 (Monk, The Tomorrow War, In Plain Sight, and more)
What I’m Watching – June 2021 (Get Shorty, Con Man, Thunder in Paradise, and more)
Tucker and Dale vs. Evil
What I’ve Been Watching – June 2021 (Relic Hunter, Burn Notice, Space Force, and more)
Appaloosa
Psych of the Dead
The Mandalorian
What I’m Watching: 2020 – Part Two (My Name is Bruce, Sword of Sherwood Forest, Isle of Fury, and more)
What I’m Watching 2020: Part One (The Adventures of Brisco County Jr, Poirot, Burn Notice, and more)
Philip Marlowe: Private Eye
Leverage
Nero Wolfe – The Lost Pilot
David Suchet’s ‘Poirot’
Sherlock Holmes (over two dozen TV shows and movies)

Bob Byrne’s ‘A (Black) Gat in the Hand’ made its Black Gate debut in 2018 and has returned every summer since.

His ‘The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes’ column ran every Monday morning at Black Gate from March, 2014 through March, 2017. And he irregularly posts on Rex Stout’s gargantuan detective in ‘Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone.’ He is a member of the Praed Street Irregulars, and founded www.SolarPons.com (the only website dedicated to the ‘Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street’).

He organized Black Gate’s award-nominated ‘Discovering Robert E. Howard’ series, as well as the award-winning ‘Hither Came Conan’ series. Which is now part of THE Definitive guide to Conan. He also organized 2023’s ‘Talking Tolkien.’

He has contributed stories to The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories — Parts III, IV, V, VI, XXI, and XXXIII.

He has written introductions for Steeger Books, and appeared in several magazines, including Black Mask, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, The Strand Magazine, and Sherlock Magazine.

You can definitely ‘experience the Bobness’ at Jason Waltz’s ’24? in 42′ podcast.