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Tell Me Yours, I’ll Tell You Mine by Kristina Ten is the author’s debut short fiction collection, which will be published by Stillhouse Press in October. I’ve been a fan of Kristina’s short fiction for a while, and it was wonderful getting to experience so many stories all together, discovering many for the first time and seeing the thematic threads that connect them. It’s a gorgeous-looking collection as well. The cover and jacket design are by Camille Koslo who did a fantastic job giving it a subtly eerie vibe, which perfectly suits the stories inside.

“The Dizzy Room” was one of the few stories I’d read before, and it pairs nicely with “The Curing”, which immediately follows it in the collection. Both stories explore the uneasy space of childhood and the struggle to define oneself, especially as a child of immigrant parents and an ESL learner. “The Dizzy Room” focuses on the protagonist using language learning games to catch up with the rest of the class, only the Dizzy Game seems intent on teaching her another language entirely, bringing in a nice hint of cosmic horror. “The Curing” follows a group of middle school students who don’t fit into any of the other cliques, who learn to make copies of themselves by applying glue to their skin and then peeling it off when it dries. The copies, which they refer to as spirit people, take on lives of their own, eventually becoming better-liked and smoother versions of the originals, touching on themes of erasing oneself in order to assimilate.

“Approved Methods of Love Divination in the First-Rate City of Dushagorod” carries forward the idea of children’s games, specifically fortune telling devices and counting games that are meant to predict the name of the person you will marry. Ten does a wonderful job of suggesting horror around the edges of the story, with the need to repopulate after a devastating war, and the story’s ending underscoring that darkness even further as Sofia finally learns about her destined mate. “Bunny Ears” is another unsettling story that starts out relatively innocently and leans increasingly into its darkness as it progresses. Hannah’s parents send her to a sleepaway camp for a week where she overhears a story about the bunny-ear kids who were abandoned by their parents, went feral, and still live in the surrounding woods.

Liminality, transformation, and body horror – particularly as it relates to women, standards of beauty, and reproductive rights – are all themes that echo throughout the second half of the collection. “Last Letter First” is a story of two women bonding on an intergalactic bus ride as they travel to get modifications that are illegal on Earth – one to have an abortion and one to have her uterus removed. The story occurs in the liminal space of a bus between the stars, while also centering on a temporary friendship as the women share bits of themselves along the way. Each anticipates an act of transformation at the end of their journey, which will give them a great measure of control over their bodies, though ultimately it is a different act of transformation that occurs.

“Mel for Melissa” is framed as a confessional narrative as Kat writes letters to her therapist that circle around the horror of what happened to her friend Mel when they were in high school. Their volleyball coach obsessively tracked each players’ weight, causing them all to torture themselves with diet and exercise, while re-exerting control over their lives with risky behavior, and cutting and burning themselves, all before Mel takes things to an even greater extreme. The story does a wonderful job in its exploration of trauma, the way women’s bodies are viewed, and the brutality athletes endure for the sake of winning. “The Flood, the Tumble, the Talons, the Trick” blends body horror and fantasy. When a dragon washes up in a man’s basement during a flood, he takes her captive and forces cards beneath her scales in order to cheat his friends during their regular poker games. The story is brutal, but also full of gorgeous writing and striking imagery as it explores the idea of beauty as useful, and women as commodities and property existing for the benefit of others, rather than beings in an of themselves.

“The Advocate” makes a woman’s battle against doctors into a literal joust, with information as her armor, taking on the idea of doctors dismissing women’s pain specifically and not listening to their patients in general. “Adjective” plays with form, using a Mad Libs style narrative to tell the story of an immigrant dealing with microaggressions at work. The format highlights depressing commonalities – anyone could slot in the specifics of their own experience with microaggressions – but there are also character-specific details that make the story personal.

Overall, the collection is lovely and the thought and care put into the order of the stories, considering the way they speak to each other, shines through. The exploration of liminal states and liminal spaces is effective, and it resonates in the characters, themes, settings, and tone. There’s a perfect blend of literary and speculative fiction across the tales, and Ten does a wonderful job of pacing, adding new depth and layers of darkness as each story unfolds, making the stories themselves into shifting things that transform even as the reader experiences them. Similarly, the characters populating the stories are people who don’t fit in, kids of immigrant families who don’t belong fully to either world, and pre-teens who are between ages, all making choices to control their own destiny but often in eerie and unsettling ways that set them further apart from those around them. This is definitely a collection to put on your radar. Keep an eye out for it when it comes out in October, or better yet, pre-order it now.

Storyteller: A Tanith Lee Tribute Anthology edited by Julie C. Day, Carina Bissett, and Craig Laurance Gidney will be published by Essential Dreams Press in July 2025. The anthology includes all original fiction, and as the name implies, each story is inspired by the work of Tanith Lee. Also included are an introduction and afterword, sharing personal stories about Tanith Lee. As part of their bios, each author also includes a bit about their connection to Lee’s work, adding further context and emotional resonance to the stories.

Overall, it’s a strong anthology, with a nice mix of fantasy, science fiction, and dreamy slip-stream stories that cross genres. A few stood out as favorites, and are highlighted here.

“Makers” by C.L. Hellisen gets the anthology off to a good start with a fairytale-like piece full of visceral descriptions. Ru can breathe life into the creations they make out of clay and dirt, a magic which is forbidden. They are sent to a nunnery as a servant, where they meet Olen, falling for her. They also meet the bear god, who challenges them to live their truth, inspiring them to travel to make a new life for themself. The story nicely inverts some expected tropes as it looks at different kinds of courage and the idea of destiny.

“On Her Head a Crown of Stars” by Rocio Rincon Fernandez is a surreal story about a woman whose friend turns into a living saint after an encounter with a unicorn and is sent out to fight a monster, which she then tries to befriend. The story captures a great voice, and is full of striking imagery.

“Data Ghost” by Martha Wells is one of the more science fictional pieces in the anthology. After encountering a ghost station, Deni’s two crew mates are lured away by a mysterious signal, necessitating a rescue. The implant in their head, which their family forced on them, protects them, ultimately leading them to re-evaluate their uneasy relationship with the technology. There are some nice touches of horror alongside the science fiction, making for an atmospheric and effectively eerie story.

“Moons Over Sea” by C.S.E. Cooney features the author’s typical gorgeous prose and distinctive voice. Five foundling children set out to discover the truth about their various birth parents with their adoptive mothers’ blessings. Embrae, the only sister among the group, knows she is born of a sea demon – one who has always refused to have anything to do with her. Instead of seeking her own answers, she decides to secretly help her brothers on their quests. The literally cheeky ending works well, and the humor pairs nicely with a touching depiction of chosen family and love.

“Zugunruhe” by KT Wagner is another visceral story that takes inspiration from fairy tales. Branta and several of her flock have had their skins stolen, trapping them in human form in a tower where they are experimented on by a group of humans who seem to be seeking a cure for an unknown illness. While imprisoned, she develops a relationship with a man she believes to be a fellow prisoner, ultimately learning he is affiliated with her captors. The post-apocalyptic setting adds a new dimension to the fairy tale narrative, and the story does a good job of exploring complicated relationships, love, trust, loyalty, and grief.

“Death Valley ’71” by Amelia Mangan explores the classic triad of sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll, opening with the narrator meeting a girl in prison who believes her boyfriend is a kind of prophet-like figure with access to alternate dimensions. She tells the narrator about a phone booth in a desert where voices from that other plane can be heard. When the narrator meets up with a rock star of her own, they burn bright across the desert and find the phone booth. After a drug overdose, she ultimately sacrifices him in an attempt to access that other dimension and its gods. There are nice hints of cosmic horror threaded throughout this one, and the language and imagery are striking.

Roll for Love by M.K. England is a charming YA romance that celebrates queer, nerdy joy, friendship, and centers on characters finding themselves and finding their community. Following her grandfather’s death, Harper and her mother move into his house, where Harper spent her summers growing up, learning carpentry and woodworking in her grandfather’s workshop, and crushing hard on Ollie, the girl next door. Now in her senior year, coming back to Clintville feels very different. Harper is leaving behind a group of friends in Portland, and her relationship with her mother is strained. Her mother has all but shut down in her grief after losing her father, and barely talks to Harper other than to insist that she attend a four-year-college, which is not in Harper’s plans. Despite fearing that her senior year will be terrible, Harper reconnects with Ollie, and along with her friends, who are all queer and nerdy as well, forms a D&D group. They begin fixing up Harper’s grandfather’s barn together, dubbing it the Gay Barn, and Harper plans for her future with trade classes and launching her own business.

England does a wonderful job of balancing warmth and joy with just the right amount of angst and conflict, and keeps everything rooted in the characters, so the stakes are grounded and personal. The chapters alternate between Ollie and Harper’s viewpoints as they sort through their feelings for each other, and try to figure out their places in the world. Ollie isn’t entirely comfortable being out as bi in Clintville, and feels a pull between the traditional life that she feels is expected of her, and wanting to be part of a thriving, queer community. Harper sees room for both, and tries to help Ollie in her journey without pressuring her, while also trying to prove to her mother that a traditional four-year-college is not the only viable path to a successful career.

While the relationships get messy and complicated, the characters communicate with each other honestly, and there’s a focus on talking things out and being respectful and supportive. While D&D is a large part of the story, a deep knowledge of the game isn’t required in order to enjoy the book. Again, the story is largely character driven, and the characters themselves are compelling and easy to root for – people you want to see find success and happiness. There are fun nods for people who are D&D fans, and I personally appreciated the focus on wild magic in the campaign itself, and all the chaos that can ensue from that.

Overall, it’s a fun read, sweet and joyful without being saccharine. It’s emotional, but in a cathartic way, and it provides a nice counterbalance to the current news cycle and the general grim state of the world.

Will This Be a Problem? is an anthology series and magazine dedicated to publishing a wide range of speculative fiction by African and African diaspora writers. Will This Be a Problem? The Anthology Issue V is edited by Somto Ihezue and Olivia Kidula and features stunning cover art by Peter Marco. The editors were kind enough to send me a review copy.

Overall, this is a strong anthology. The worldbuilding and characters in the first few stories felt rich and layered. Many of them felt like fragments of larger works, but were still satisfying in and of themselves. Throughout the anthology, there were a handful of stories that stood out, which I want to highlight.

“The Market of Memories” by Azara Tswanya effectively explores class and the allocation of resources. The technology to potentially cure Alzheimer’s is developed, however it ends up being used to harvest memories from the economically disadvantaged to sell to bored rich people. The story is poignant and the characters well-rounded and relatable.

“Acceptance” by Khaya Maseko is a lyrical and poetic piece with a fluid voice and sense of time that examines the idea of revolution and violent resistance as the only solution to increasingly oppressive systems that target vulnerable populations.

In a similar vein, “The Language We Have Learned to Carry in Our Skin” by Shingai Kagunda is evocative in its look at the ongoing effects of colonization, as leaders are turned against their own people, and those in power continually oppress those below them. As with Maseko’s story, there is a form of revolution and violent resistance, but in this case language is the weapon turned back against the oppressors as the main character invites a manifestation evil into herself and learns to control it.

“Mr. Original Swag” by Victor Forna has a great voice and features a deal with the devil scenario as the narrator warns against trusting Mr. Swag, recounting his own experience, then shifting the narrative to reveal that all is not as it seems.

“Why Donkeys Have 44 Teeth” by Peter Nena closes out the anthology on a pleasantly creepy note. A young boy named Jack has repeated dreams of a donkey with human-like hands tapping on his window, calling to him to come out and play. Children in his neighborhood have disappeared, and thanks to his sister urging him to consider why donkeys have so many teeth if they are herbivores, he becomes convinced that his dream isn’t a dream and that the donkey is to blame. The story is full of visceral imagery, and there’s a sense of deeper mythology behind the tale that works quite well.

Often times with short fiction, I feel even more like I’m just scratching the surface when it comes to a given year. That may just be my imagination, but each issue, collection, and anthology I miss contains multiple stories, and new venues for short fiction are popping up all the time. No matter how valiantly I try, I just can’t read it all. That said, here are some of the short stories and novelettes that stood out to me the most from what I did read this year.

Early Adopter by Zack Be published in the January/February issue of Asimov’s is a bittersweet exploration of how technology isn’t a magic solution and sometimes may only make existing problems worse.

Shadow Films by Ben Peek published in the January issue of Lightspeed is a subtly eerie novelette about a man who receives mysterious scripts in the mail, leading him to believe he may be part of a dangerous conspiracy.

Nothing of Value by Aimee Ogden published in the January issue of Clarkesworld is a heartbreaking story that looks at the Ship of Theseus thought experiment as the main character travels back home to visit an old lover after a years using skip technology, which creates a copy and destroys the original, and while memories can be reintegrated, it’s also possible to leave memories behind.

The Handmaiden Alchemist by Marie Vibbert published in the January/February issue of Analog is an excellent story seething with quiet rage as Margot pursues her interest in alchemy, while fending off a creepy would-be suitor, despite it not being a suitable interest for a young lady in the 16th century.

The Blue Glow by Lisa Hosokawa published in khōréō is a gorgeous and painful story of a young suicide bomber returning to his deeply haunted village after his bomb fails to detonate.

Do Houses Dream of Scraping the Sky by Jana Bianchi published in the January/February issue of Uncanny is a beautifully written story of grief and healing as a grandchild packs up their grandmother’s house after her death and finds the house in mourning too.

Buddy Raymond’s No-Bullshit Guide to Drone Hunting by Gillian Secord published in Diabolical Plots is set in a near-future where the US is at war with Canada and drones regularly hunt folks down, unless you follow Buddy’s handy pamphlet for staying alive. The story adopts a light, folksy tone and packs an emotional gut punch, all in just a few thousand words.

Turtles to the Sea by Sandra McDonald published in the March/April issue of Asimov’s is a novelette that tells the intertwined stories of several members of a single family over multiple years, whose lives are inextricably linked with time travel and the sea.

Just You and Me Now by KT Bryski published in the February issue of Apex is a tense and unsettling story about a boy forced to go on a camping trip whose family members begin disappearing one by one after a stranger shows up at their campsite.

The Man in the Moon is a Lady by Ian Baaske published in the March/April issue of Asimov’s is a novelette with a strong voice that interweaves multiple story threads to create a dream-like tale of a lone female astronomer surrounded by male colleagues who invents a device that allows her to observe intelligent life on the moon.

There’s Nothing in the Attic by Faith Merino published in the March/April issue of Asimov’s is a satisfying time-loop story that draws on elements of the Gothic as the women in a family become convinced their house is haunted and use quantum science to prove their theory right, while the man of the house grows increasingly paranoid and controlling as a result.

A Brief Oral History of El Zopilote Dock by Alaya Dawn Johnson published in the March issue of Clarkesworld is a novelette set in a frighteningly plausible near-future Texas where the prison system has essentially brought back slavery, centering on two women helping folks to escape along the Underground River.

Swarm C1048 – Ethological Field Report: Canus Lupus Familiaris “6” by F.E. Choe published in he March issue of Clarkesworld is a brief gut-punch of a story, told from the perspective of collective alien swarm observing a post-collapse Earth, and coming upon a litter of puppies, one of which they become particularly attached to and follow throughout her life.

Median by Kelly Robson published at Reactor is a tense story of a woman stranded on a highway median, who begins receiving strange phone calls begging her for help even as she fails to find anyone willing to help her out of her own terrifying situation.

First Girls by Jessica Luke García published in the March issue of Nightmare is an effective flash piece that interrogates the function and stereotypes filled by the first girls to die in a slasher tale.

Our Very Best Selves! by Fatima Taqvi published in the March issue of Nightmare is a dark and unsettling story that does a wonderful job of hinting at horrible things happening just off the page, as a gaslighting and controlling husband brings his wife back to some semblance of life following a car crash.

The Lark Ascending by Eleanna Castroianni published in the April issue of Clarkesworld is a lovely and painful story of a bot left behind when its owner is taken away as a traitor, trying to communicate with its former owner’s daughter.

There are three children jumping over a can outside a bodega by Mark Galarrita published in the April issue of Nightmare is a brief but effective story about an influencer who treats people as commodities for consumption and fodder for his social media feed, with a satisfying dash of cosmic horror at the end.

Blackjack by Veronica Schanoes published at Reactor is a story about complicated family relationships and different flavors of love as Josie finds herself haunted by the ghost of her no-good ex-husband who comes to her asking for help escaping from a demon.

Those Who Smuggle Themselves into Slivermoon by Varsha Dinesh published at Strange Horizons is a gorgeously written novelette about class, access to opportunity, and an economic system designed to uphold the status quo where even the basic human right of having a body is reserved for those who can pay.

Twenty-Four Hours by H.H. Pak published in the June issue of Clarkesworld is the heartbreaking story of a mother who codes a virtual version of her deceased daughter so she can spend a last twenty-four hours with her.

Between Home and a House on Fire by A.T. Greenblatt published at Reactor is a novelette that explores the aftermath of a chosen one saving a portal fantasy world, exploring sacrifice and how much is “enough” when the portal fantasy world in question is always in need of saving.

The Maiden Voyage of the Piranha Belle by L.M. Guay published in khōréō is a lushly written story that explores colonizer mentality and the kind of rich asshole tourists who view the entire world as existing only to entertain them.

doorbell dot mov by Jennifer R. Donohue published in The Deadlands effectively explores survivor’s guilt in an eerie story of a protagonist plagued the ghost of their friends, who died in a car crash on the way back from a concert they were also supposed to attend.

Flipped by Leah Cypess published in the July/August issue of Asimov’s is an effective parallel world story, centering on Becka who finds herself dating the hottest boy in her class who has slipped over from an alternate universe where they’re together, but soon finds herself worrying that Jake is trying to turn her into that other version of herself.

Joanna’s Bodies by Eugenia Triantafyllou published by Psychopomp is a novelette exploring guilt and toxic relationships as Eleni finds herself forced to constantly find new bodies for her best friend Joanna to inhabit (and use up) after accidentally summoning her back from the dead.

The Fisherman’s Wife’s Son by Matthew Finn published in the March issue of Bourbon Penn is a surreal and twisty story about a man with prehensile, squid-like genitals, who is pursued by sinister doctors who claim to want to help him, while his reclusive neighbor writes manga about him that imagines him as a superhero, with art and life imitating and informing each other.

The Best Version of Yourself by Grant Collier published in the July issue of Clarkesworld is a lovely and bittersweet novelette that explores the concept of happiness and what it means to be human as a woman who refuses to augment her brain with nanites that can alter a person’s mood and make it so they never have to feel pain grapples with her mother’s decision to do so.

All Her Rows of Teeth by Jordan Kurella published in 3-Lobed Burning Eye is a story with a strong voice, following Caleb through his toxic relationship with his friend Allyssandra, who once again puts him in the path of danger when she decides to go hunting for the Vice Shark, a mythical creature that feeds on hedonism, but grants any wish if you can catch it.

Painted Surfaces by Guan Un published in the August issue of Nightmare is a flash piece about a man who discovers his wife is a monster, and decides he’s perfectly willing to stay silent regarding her appetites, therefore making himself complicit in her crimes.

Cicadas, and Their Skins by Avra Margariti published at Strange Horizons is a gorgeous and bloody story of transformation as a young woman who everyone in the village believes to be a witch teaches the other teenagers in the village how to slip out of their skins and become animals for a while.

The Five Rules of Spirit Binding by Sunil the Undying (Edited by Farah, Age 13) by M. Banerjee-Sholars published in Augur 7.1 is a lovely story about loss and healing, as Farah discovers a treatise on summoning spirits, but takes a compassionate approach both to the Yaksha she accidentally summons and the original author of the text.

Broken by Laura Williams McCaffery published in the September issue of Clarkesworld effectively uses reverse chronology to unfold the story of a woman whose life is not at all what she believes it to be.

Wiremother by Laura Mauro published in the September issue of The Dark evokes the story of Rapunzel in moody piece about Helena, who lives alone in a crumbling house with a nightmarish creature of wires and sharp angles and glass that has taken on the role of her mother and insists on isolating her and controlling her every move all in the supposed name of love.

High Performer by Jason Pangalinan published in khōréō is a fun story with a light voice and a serious, underlying exploration of identity, free will, and how we perceive ourselves versus how others perceive us, as Peace encounters Leon, who transforms into whatever someone wishes for in his presence, while kicking a rock and wishing she could kick her laptop instead.

The Circumambulation by James Van Pelt published in the September/October issue of Analog is an effective alien invasion story, which keeps the alien invasion in the background and centers on a couple caught in a crumbling marriage as the world falls apart around them.

The V*mpire by P.H. Lee published at Reactor is a brutal look at toxic online culture. Alex is coming to terms with being a trans girl, trying to explore her identity in the safe space of a tumblr fan group, but she falls under the sway of a vampire who accuses her of vampophobia, growing increasingly abusive and manipulative as he isolates her from her friends and eventually murders her mother, all while convincing her she is the horrible and hateful one and that everything happening to and around her is her fault.

Because Flora Had Existed. And Because I Had Loved Her by Anna Martino published at Samovar is a lovely and twisty story about a man unmoored in time, who must constantly redefine his relationship to the woman he loves as he encounters her at different points along her timeline.

The Slide by Oliver Stifel published in the November issue of Clarkesworld is a visceral story of a rally racer who is being pressured to win the World Cup, which examines government propaganda and the cost of war.

The House That Stands Over Your Grave by Kyle Piper published by Pseudopod manages to be simultaneously tense, creepy, and melancholy, examining guilt, loss, and loneliness as Lew lets the new kid in town convince him to accompany her to the local haunted house.

A Stranger Knocks by Tananarive Due published at Strange Horizons is a novelette that explores the age of silent film, specifically “race pictures” made for Black audiences and starring Black actors. A young couple house-sitting for a friend receive a visit from a compelling stranger who offers them a job driving him to different theaters, realizing only too late that he’s using his films to hypnotize and prey on his audiences.

One Becomes Two by A.D. Sui published in Augur 7.3 is a subtly creepy and atmospheric story about a couple researching a mysterious substance at a remote station in Greenland, which is causing strange behavior in the local wildlife. When one half of the couple shares that they are no longer invested in the marriage, the other proposes an unsettling solution to bring their relationship back in synch.

Climbing the Mountains of Me by Phoebe Barton published in Kaleidotrope is a sweet story about a woman who grows to vast sizes when she allows herself, but who usually tries to keep herself small despite the pain it causes her for fear of being judged by others.

Logoptera by Diana Dima published in Augur 7.3 is a gorgeous and heartbreaking story of a young woman who attends a college where everyone else speaks in wingless words, while her speech manifests as insects. The story is a painful examination of the idea of assimilation and giving up pieces of oneself in order to “fit in” and be accepted.

Spread the Word by Delilah Dawson published at Apex is a chilling and effective story that follows Will as he moves to a new town with his mother, but quickly discovers that the violence that plagued his old life appears to have followed him and is now spreading like an infection.

Pelt by Steven Archer published at Strange Horizons is a gorgeous and heartbreaking story about complicated family relationships and learning to see each other truly, as Louis, who dances under the name Luz, and whose skin occasionally molts – a physical manifestation of his emotional pain, a trait shared by the women in his family – agrees to return home for a visit, despite being estranged from his father and his mother never accepting him.

Sangronas! Un Lista de Terror by M.M. Olivas published in Uncanny is a beautifully written and occasionally brutal story of four girls who are harpy-like creatures, forced to hide their identities and live by certain rules in order to keep themselves safe.

The Painted Skin and the Final Stroke by Zhu Yixuan is a story full of gorgeous and lyrical prose, following two mechanical demons, one of whom asks the other to paint a soul for her so she can live on as a ghost as humans do, the two forming a beautiful relationship and learning to see each other more truly along the way.

A Lullaby of Anguish by Marie Croke published at Apex is a brutal and effective story of two sisters who took photographs of mer-creatures as children, each coping with their guilt in their own way as they are forced to reconcile with the pain they caused now that they are adults.

If This Flesh Were Thought by Matt McHugh published in the November/December issue of Analog is a procedural elevated by charming characters, where Officer Marie Dombroski investigates a murder seemingly carried out by a proxy body alongside a lawyer who uses a robotic proxy body of his own.

Derail by E. Catherine Tobler published in Bourbon Penn is an absolutely gorgeous story set in the author’s circus universe about loving someone you know you’ll have to say goodbye to, learning to let go, and learning to believe in the impossible.

Season of Weddings by Sharang Biswas published in Lightspeed is a charming story about Nate (aka Thanatos, god of death) trying to get over his ex, Thor, as he attends a series of weddings and carries out his work of ushering souls to the afterlife.

The Last Life of a Time-Traveling Cat by A.P. Golub published in Zooscape is a brief but heartbreaking story about a cat traveling through time to reunite with the revolutionary who rescued him as a kitten.

Once again, it feels like I’m only scratching the surface with this list, but I hope it helps you find something new-to-you to read and love!

It’s hard to believe there are only ten days left in the year. Right now I’m reading ahead to 2025, frantically trying to fulfill various blurb requests, even as I try to catch up on all the wonderful things that came out in 2024. As always, I know I’m only scratching the surface, but out of the novels I did manage to read this year, here are some that I loved.

A Botanical Daughter by Noah Medlock has a wonderful voice, capturing the feel of classic horror-science fiction like Frankenstein and The Island of Doctor Moreau. Set against the backdrop of science gone too far, there are charming relationships, especially the odd couple pairing of Gregor and Simon, embodying the stuffy, reserved, grumpy one who loves the slightly cheeky and playful one trope. But there’s also tension between them, rooted in Gregor’s all consuming passions and obsessions; like the best “mad scientists” he’s far more interested in whether a thing can be done than whether it should. Medlock offers up the perfect balance and blend of genres – Gothic, classic science fiction, and horror, while also telling a story about found family. The descriptions are lush, the world sumptuous, and there are some pleasantly creepy moments as well. Overall, it’s a book I would highly recommend.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In by John Wiswell has received a great deal of praise, popping up on various best of the year lists with good cause. It embodies what Wiswell does so well – write horror that is also kind. Wiswell captures a great voice, and blends gore with humor and sweet characters who listen to each other, care for each other, and try to see the world through each other’s eyes. Shesheshen may be a semi-gelatinous being who uses the bones of the humans she eats to construct a human-like appearance to move through the world, but that doesn’t mean she’s solely monstrous, or stop a beautiful relationship from growing between her and Homily. There are several twists and turns along the way that complicate the characters’ lives, occasionally forcing them to face heartbreaking decisions, but at the end of the day, the novel centers compassion and choosing the person or monster you want to be in the world rather than letting your nature, family, or circumstances define you.

The Book of Love by Kelly Link is the author’s debut novel, and she absolutely goes all out in her move from short stories, with over 600 pages. There’s a subtle eeriness throughout, a sense of the uncanny, and a sense that there’s even more left off the page – a whole world beneath the surface of the one readers get to see. Laura, Daniel, and Mo return from the dead a year after their disappearance. They don’t remember the circumstances of their deaths, or understand why they’ve returned, and no one in their lives seems to recall them being dead at all. They’re tasked with learning magic by a man they believed to be one of their teachers, who in reality appears to be an ancient being, caught up in his own very complicated relationship with another ancient being who has plans of his own for Mo, Laura, and Daniel. The novel is gorgeously written, exploring complicated relationships, magic, the balance of power, and cyclical stories that come back again and again in different forms.

The Garden of Delights by Amal Singh has a similarly epic feel to the Book of Love, with a sense of a world that extends beyond what appears on the page. The writing is gorgeous, again delving into cyclical stories and struggles for power that recur across the ages. Singh uses a fantastical lens to look at colonization and the erasure of cultures and ways of life through the stories and histories that are taught, repeated, and officially sanctioned. The novel touches on the politics of cities, and again like Link’s book, the balance of power, both among humans and immortal beings. The novel is soaked in magic, but the world also feels real and lived in and the characters grounded. Overall, it’s a wonderful read.

Horror Movie by Paul Tremblay contains so many of the things I crave in horror fiction that it feels like it could have been written just for me: a character revisiting past horrors, a cult classic film that exists only in fragments, a story that blurs the line between reality and fiction with doubt threaded expertly throughout. It’s the kind of thing that Tremblay is supremely good at – is anything supernatural happening or is reality simply horrifying? Or can both be true? The novel is perfectly paced, revealing bits of potential truths over time, dealing with a possibly unreliable narrator, while also playing with the question of how we frame stories in order to cement truths and create legends. The story explores monstrousness and human cruelty, and again blurs the line between what is inherent and what is external. Do we create monsters, or merely react to them by becoming monstrous ourselves? It’s beautifully done and a very satisfying read.

The Bog Wife by Kay Chronister is another novel that has received a good deal of well-deserved praise. Like Tremblay’s novel, it plays with doubt, potentially unreliable narrators, and the stories we tell ourselves and others. A group of siblings grapple with their understanding of the world and their place within it after the death of their father dictates that the eldest son must dig a wife up from the bog, marrying this supernatural creature according to tradition and carrying on the family line. The novel is soaked in atmosphere, the setting of the crumbling house isolated in the bog being a character in its own right. Chronister plays with Gothic tropes, both leaning into them and upending them in interesting ways. There’s a distinct Shirley Jackson vibe at play, and yet the voice and the story are unique.

I Was a Teenage Slasher by Stephen Graham Jones delves back into slasher mythology – a subject the author has explored over multiple works – this time, centering on the killer. It’s not an easy feat to pull off, writing a book from the point of view of a killer and having that killer be sympathetic without making apologies or excuses for their killings or letting them off the hook. Especially in a world where the media routinely excuses actual killers – painting them as misunderstood lone wolves, quiet, polite boys who wouldn’t have killed anyone at all if only a girl had been nice to them that one time – instead of having conversations about systemic racism, sensible gun control, and mental health. But I digress. That isn’t what Stephen Graham Jones is doing here. Instead, he’s once again interrogating the rules of the slasher genre and looking at the human impact of that particular brand of horror. If we accept slashers as inevitable, a force of nature, the universe creating its own kind of balance, what does that mean for someone who finds himself infected and becoming a slasher against his will? Can he bend the rules to stop himself from killing? Is there any recourse, or is he doomed to repeat the familiar narrative? Amidst the horror, there’s a beautiful story of friendship, and the novel doesn’t forgive its slasher, but it still manages to keep his humanity at its core.

The City in Glass by Nghi Vo is absolutely gorgeously written, full of evocative imagery and lush prose. Like the Book of Love and the Garden of Delights, it suggests a larger world. It’s a relatively slim novel, but one that unfolds a deep and rich history, tracing through the various ages of the city of Azril as seen through the eyes of the demon that knows and loves it best. The vignettes and glimpses of the city’s history and its people weave together to give the sense of a place that feels lived-in and alive, and the slow-burning relationship between the angel and the demon, the city’s destroyer and it’s savior, is beautifully done. Taking the long view of history and the long view of the angel and demon’s relationship, and letting both play out over centuries works extremely well and each adds depth to the other.

Model Home by Rivers Solomon uses the tropes of the haunted house genre to tell a brutal story about broken family relationships, racism, and abuse. Like Tremblay and Chronister, Solomon plays with doubt and the way we frame stories in order to make sense of our worlds. Following the apparent suicide of their parents, Ezri returns to the haunted house where they grew up. Their family was the only Black family living in a gated white community, and as a result, their mother was almost fanatical about their right to belong and that nothing would drive them out of their home, no matter how bad things got. Now Ezri and their sisters are forced to unravel their shared past, trying to understand what happened to them as children – were they really being haunted, or do the fragments they remember of a Faceless Woman tormenting them point to something far worse? At the same time, Ezri’s daughter is facing horrors of her own. The novel is painful, and like much of Solomon’s work, it isn’t an easy read, but it’s well worth it all the same.

The September House by Carissa Orlando also takes on the haunted house genre, but from a completely different angle. Margaret is an older protagonist, and more or less the opposite of the typical resident in a haunted house. Haunted houses often seem to prey on newly-weds and young families who have poured their life savings into buying their dream home and can’t easily afford to move. Margaret and her husband, however, bought their perfect house after their daughter was grown; they could have left if they chose, but Margaret is determined to stay and find a way to make peace with the haunting. As long as she follows the rules, everything will be fine. And it seems like it will be, until her daughter shows up, looking into the mysterious disappearance of her father, Margaret’s husband, despite them being largely estranged. The ghosts are creepy and effective, the complicated family relationships well done, and the doubt woven throughout the novel adds an extra dimension. All in all, a very satisfying horror novel.

A Sorceress Comes to Call by T. Kingfisher is for the most part more subtle in its horrors. Cordelia lives alone with her mother, a sorceress who has managed to keep her true nature hidden from the rest of the world. Evangeline isolates Cordelia and wields her power to control her body, making her Obedient whenever it suits her. Evangeline’s overriding desire is to move up in the world, marrying a rich man so that Cordelia can marry a rich man of her own in turn, and she will stop at nothing to achieve her goal. She sets her sights on the Squire, a lifelong bachelor, moving herself and Cordelia into his life, while poor Cordelia tries to keep her head down and avoid her mother’s wrath. Luckily, the Squire’s sister, Hester, sees through Evangeline’s facade, becoming an ally as Cordelia sets out to stop her mother from hurting anyone else despite her own fear. The book is full of wonderful descriptions, characters, friendships, and relationships. And of course, since it’s T. Kingfisher, there’s also a deeply unsettling and unnatural horse thrown into the mix too.

It’s wonderful seeing the increased appreciation for novella-length fiction over the past several years, with more and more publishers taking on works that sit perfectly between short short stories and novels. This year was another fantastic year for novellas, and even as I continue frantically trying to catch up on my reading, I want to shout out a few 2024 titles that particularly stuck with me.

Your Shadow Half Remains by Sunny Moraine is full of lovely, dark writing and striking imagery, exploring what it means to see and be seen. It also offers up a very effective exploration of isolation and the need for connection in a world where meeting another person’s eyes can have deadly consequences. Moraine offers a fresh take on a post-apocalyptic/mysterious plague trope as a sudden rash of inexplicable violence sparked by eye-contact sweeps the world. The novella does a wonderful job of threading tension throughout, looking at what happens when the social contract breaks down and you can’t rely on anyone, or even trust yourself.

Haunt Sweet Home by Sarah Pinsker posits a mash-up between home renovation and ghost hunting, as Mara takes a job working on her cousin’s reality TV show that fakes hauntings for the camera while fixing up people’s homes. One could make a case for the novella as cozy horror. There are some genuinely eerie moments, but at the end of the day, Pinsker offers up a kinder sort of haunting, and the heart of the story is about a character finding her place in the world. The grounding details throughout, one of Pinsker’s specialties as an author, make the world feel lived in and the characters real, and the way the story plays with doubt and how we define “reality” is highly effective.

A Voice Calling by Christopher Barzak is the first novella published by Psychopomp, the same fine folks who publish The Deadlands, and they did an incredible job with it and all the other novellas they published this year. Button House has always been haunted, with layers of ghost stories interwoven with and informing each other. Barzak explores recurring trauma and tragedy that creates a cycle of hauntings, telling the story of a house that is a character in its own right, developing unhealthy relationships with a series of inhabitants across the years.

The Woods All Black by Lee Mandelo is an excellent work of historical horror. Leslie is a frontier nurse, carrying trauma from the war, and dealing with a world that largely refuses to see and accept him as a man. His latest assignment sends him to a small backwoods town where the people are intensely suspicious of outsiders. There’s clearly something wrong, but no one is willing to talk to him. One of the few people who seems like he could be a kindred spirit is Stevie, an angry young man determined to court danger and push Leslie away at every turn. The novella is full of the slow-burning tension that Mandelo excels at and does a wonderful job exploring the concept of monstrousness.

The Butcher of the Forest by Premee Mohamed is rife with gorgeous worldbuilding that feels like it extends beyond the page. Veris is recruited to retrieve two children who strayed into the woods, being the only person to have previously entered and survived. She’s threatened with death if she doesn’t succeed, left with no choice but to return to Elmever with all its terrible wrongness and face the ghosts of her past. Mohamed, as always, does a wonderful job of drawing readers into a world that feels lived in and familiar while also being beautifully dark and strange.

The Dragonfly Gambit by A.D. Sui is a sweeping space opera that feels epic even at novella length. Nez is a former pilot, forcibly recruited by the Third Daughter to help her win the war, bringing Nez face-to-face with her former lover and former best friend, both of whom abandoned and betrayed her. Sui perfectly captures the complicated and messy relationships between the characters, showing how passionate hate can slip over the line into desire. The novella also does a wonderful job looking at obsession, the cost of war, and how far the characters are willing to go to achieve their goals.

Lovely Creatures by KT Bryski unfolds its story gradually over the course of the novella, told from multiple viewpoints woven together to make a whole. Byrony is on a mission to get her sister back, finally tracking her down as the star attraction of a traveling carnival housed in the belly of a wooden whale. Doomsday Dot, as her sister is now known, sleeps in a glass coffin, and the stories say that when she wakes, the world will end. Bryski’s prose is, as always, lyrical and immersive. The story evokes fairy tales and the works of Ray Bradbury, but with a wholly distinct voice and feel of its own.

Countess by Suzan Palumbo is a queer, anti-colonial reimagining of The Count of Monte Cristo, touching on many of the same themes as the Dragonfly Gambit. Virika Sameroo is betrayed by the Empire she’s served loyally her entire life, accused of murder and exiled. After years in prison, she sets out to clear her name and exact her revenge. Like Sui’s novella, there’s a sweeping, space opera feel to this one as well. The worldbuilding is meticulous, and Palumbo does a wonderful job looking at the ongoing violence of colonialism, showing both the large-scale impact and the personal impact on one particular character.

The Transitive Properties of Cheese by Ann LeBlanc sends Millions Wayland, a cheesemaker, on a desperate quest to save her life’s work as she discovers her asteroid cheese cave is about to be hurtled into the sun. She transfers a version of herself into another body to confront Miller, another instance of her who thinks of himself as the original, who appears to have deliberately sabotaged her for profit. Wayland reluctantly teams up with another instance, Hattie, and together they plan a heist to save her cheese. While the concept seems to lend itself to a light and maybe even comedic buddy romp, LeBlanc adopts a more serious tone, exploring anxiety, dysphoria, guilt, and the sense of self. It’s all excellently done, offering a fresh take on a multi-body story that balances wonderful characters with weighty themes.

The Indomitable Captain Holli by Rich Larson, published in Clarkesworld Magazine, is a fast-paced novella with an excellent voice. Holli is given a mission by Puck, the goretoon puppet who has been communicating with her through her VR goggles, unbeknownst to her family. She needs to get to the very top of the very tippy-top of tower block she lives in, where she’ll be celebrated with a pirate party. When Holli’s older sister returns to find her missing from their apartment, she and her boyfriend Lemar set off on a mission of their own – rescue Holli. Larson captures the perfect voice, and does an excellent job with Puck’s manipulation of Holli, giving it a nicely creepy undertone and keeping his true motives hidden for much of the story. The element of doubt works well, and along with the worldbuilding and characters, the novella provides a nice look at the power of storytelling itself.

Une Time Machine, S’il Vous Plait by Peter Wood appears in the March/April issue of Asimov’s. Coffee mogul/billionaire Adeline Deveraux builds an experimental space craft, inviting two actors – Ruth Mulu and Matt Wallace – who appeared on a Star Trek-like Canadian sci-fi show in the 70s, and her brother Pascal, along for its maiden flight. During the trip, Ruth and Pascal are accidentally thrown back in time. Realizing when they are, they set out to change the course of their own histories – Pascal trying to shake his mother’s confidence in Adeline so he will inherit the company, and Ruth using her knowledge of the future to become a millionaire on a sports bet, buy out the production company for FTL, and make it a better, less sexist show. Eventually, Matt and Adeline end up in the past as well, launching their own quests to undo what Pascal and Ruth have done. Overall, it’s a very satisfying time travel story with a great voice that nicely balances touches of humor with more serious subject matter.