Showing posts with label Social-political SF. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Social-political SF. Show all posts

Tuesday, 7 October 2025

Micro-interview with Rowley Amato

Rowley Amato, author of “The Sons of Victor Levitak” in The Future Fire #74, joins us to talk about his story and other speculative matters in our micro-interview series.


Art © 2025, Toeken

TFF: What does “The Sons of Victor Levitak” mean to you?

Rowley Amato: “The Sons of Victor Levitak” is a wistful look back at a time when the American Jewish Left was muscular, organized, and unapologetically radical. I am a proud Jew, and with global fascism on the march and genocide being committed in our name, I sort of see this story as an attempt to reclaim and assert that radical history, and perhaps show that an alternative world is possible. I was primarily influenced by three texts: a 2020 article in Jewish Currents magazine about leftist co-op developments of the Bronx; Cynthia Ozick’s 1997 novel The Puttermesser Papers; and the rabbi Joshua Trachtenberg’s writings on Jewish magic and folklore. Each of these works move me deeply, and they inform the voice, content, and general vibe of my story in different ways. 

TFF: Have you ever wished you could go back in time and change just one thing?

RA: Yes, and I think about this question all the time. There are lots of “big” things I would change (e.g., killing Hitler, thwarting the assasination of Lincoln, etc.), but I will keep things local: I would go back in time to the early 1930s and stop the New York City urban planner Robert Moses from seizing control of the Triborough Bridge Authority. This would deny him the source of power and funding that allowed him to inflict his wildly destructive agenda on the Bronx and New York City as a whole. Of course, the unintended consequences could be dire, so the only responsible answer is that I am not one to meddle with time travel. 

TFF: What are you working on next?

RA: I’m currently working on a few horror short stories. I’ve also started planning a science fiction/mystery novel.


Extract

Victor Levitak was not well-loved by the other residents of the Coop, but we sat a feeble shiva for him anyway.

Marty Feinberg worked with Victor on the fabric cutters’ line down at the Lefcourt lofts and was, by our estimation, the closest thing he had to a friend. We looked to him to deliver the mourner’s kaddish. He stared at his shoes and quickly rushed through words that held no meaning for us, until, eventually, his Hebrew failed him.

“Well, anyway… he found peace.” He shrugged. “A great blessing, in my opinion.”


Reminder: You can comment on any of the writing or art in this issue at http://press.futurefire.net/2025/09/new-issue-202574.html.

Tuesday, 28 November 2023

A Tribute to Joel Lane 1963-2013

Guest post by Rachel Verkade

If you dig through the refuse and litter of the old internet, you may come upon the ruins of old message boards. Scattered and context-less, these pages and words drift through the invisible ether of cyberspace, offering little snippets of life in the internet’s heydays.

Among these lost pages is the former message board of prolific, long-lived, and celebrated British author Ramsey Campbell. While perhaps not the most populated corner of the internet, Campbell’s message board became a haven for spec fic readers and writers, young and old, to congregate, share work and plans, discuss stories and novels, and generally make connections regarding the craft. Included in there are some names that dark fiction afficianados will recognise, talking amongst each other and their fans, sharing stories and news, planning meetups. It was a little haven for those who loved and created and consumed weird literature, a dark sanctuary where like-minded people found each other.

Sift through those old pages, and come upon an entry from mid-November 2013. At 7:24 PM, a user posted that Birmingham author Joel Lane had died in his sleep. What followed below was a raw outpouring of grief and shock.

What?! You are sure it is no joke?

This is awful, awful news.

This is a joke, right?

This can’t be true. […] It just can’t be true.

Ah fuck, no.

This is like the most weird experience I’ve ever had. Crying over a man I’ve never met…

Life isn’t fucking fair.

No. […] for me, for now: no.

Saturday, 10 September 2016

Interview with William Squirrell

William Squirrell, editor of Big Echo: Critical SF, interviewed by Michael Díaz Feito

Big Echo: Critical SF is a new online zine of thoughtful and considered ‘scientific’ science fiction. The first issue went live August 3, 2016 at bigecho.org. It features stories by Vajra Chandrasekera, Gord Sellar, Z. Finch (whose ‘Sonnets from the “New Heart’s Ease”’ appeared in TFF #35), Peter Milne Greiner, and Michael Díaz Feito (whose ‘Holy Many-Minds Home’ was in TFF #36).


Michael asked William Squirrell a few questions about the new zine.



Michael Díaz Feito: Why did you want to start Big Echo?

William Squirrell: The short answer is: why not? A friend and I just thought it would be fun to do something collaborative and creative, so we did. We certainly aren’t trying to carve out a niche in a crowded market or anything like that; on the contrary, I am much more interested in the performativity of SF than the SF short story as a commodity. I like to pretend the sensibility at Big Echo is punk rock: provide a stage on which people can try things out, try things on, experiment, push boundaries. When you are working with ideas and language, particularly when you are trying to do so at the very edge of your ability, it’s nice to have an enthusiastic audience, to have an echo chamber so to speak, and I suppose that’s what we aspire to, to provide a sympathetic space in which writers can take risks.

MDF: What does “critical” SF mean to you, and why is it an important distinction?

WS: That word signals pretty specific affinities. I am very curious about SF that is thoughtful, concentrated, that pushes beyond fannish “wouldn’t-it-be-cool” enthusiasms. While it is precisely those enthusiasms that are responsible for the vibrancy and energy which make SF such an attractive form, the euphoric rush to imagine the future frequently populates that place with an awful lot of unspoken and unthought assumptions about the way the world is and the way it ought to be. This observation is itself on the threshold of cliché, but it continues to hold true. It is most obviously the case in terms of how gender and race have been represented in the genre, but I’m thinking about other conventions as well; the ideas people have about politics, class, and wealth; about humanity; nature and culture; technology; history and progress; about thinking; and writing itself—how characters, narratives, language, etc., all fit together.

Critical SF would be SF in which such assumptions are questioned, deconstructed, reconstructed, satirized, reversed, or otherwise messed about with, not in an effort to educate or preach, but simply as a matter of course, as part of the fun. I’m not against glorious innocence and stonking good stories, but Star Wars and Stranger Things are hardly the horizon beyond which thought should refuse to pass and at which all pleasure must cease. We’re after SF which always wants to look over the next hill.

MDF: Are there any specific models for the kind of work Big Echo wants to publish?

WS: I don’t want to lay out one of those “who-begat-who” intellectual genealogies, or formulate a manifesto (at least not yet), but William Burroughs and Gertrude Stein are great examples of not the style we’re after, but the attitude: aesthetic and conceptual adventurousness. When I’m reading, I’m less worried about how slick or professional or plugged-in the writing is than that it confronts me, that it is committed to the mystery of it all. It sounds so sentimental and starry-eyed, but what the heck — Big Echo is the Steve Earle of online SF zines. We’re looking for fearless hearts.

MDF: How did the first issue come together?

WS: Hustle. I spent a lot of time digging through various venues’ archives looking for stories that struck a chord, then I’d cold call the writer and make a pitch. I don’t know how many people thought it was a scam or I was some creepy fanboy stalker (I’m not, really, and if anyone I spammed is reading this, the invitation to participate still stands). Gord Sellar and Vajra Chandrasekera were probably the biggest names I approached, and they were both so generous and enthusiastic about the project that it gave me a lot of confidence, but on the whole I tried pretty hard to identify fresh, clear voices. To be honest I still can’t believe how easily and well it came together. I wasn’t deliberately looking for people who suffer from the poet’s obsessiveness about the perfect word, but I struck gold with you lot. Every story is so carefully crafted, so distinct, singular even. I was laughing with delight as I read them. I wanted to stop strangers in coffee shops and make them read it all with me: “Look! Holy shit, look at this! Look what someone wrote!” I still feel like that.

MDF: What are your plans for future issues? Will Big Echo consider poetry or comics, have themed issues, print anthologies, etc.?

WS: It’s a sign of my utter lack of imagination that I hadn’t really thought of such things, but yes. Yes. Poetry, comics, translations, critical essays, plays; send them in, we love it all.

I have a couple of ideas for themed issues, but I have to talk to my partner about those before I start publicizing them. And we want to get another couple of issues under our belt first.

As for print anthologies, the idea appeals if for no other reason than “things,” things are nice to have and hold, especially things one has participated in the production of, and in theory I suppose it might be a means of generating a little revenue for all those starving writers. We’ll see how it all goes.

MDF: Any advice for writers submitting to Big Echo?

WS: Write. Submit. Repeat.

Thank you for joining us, William.



Big Echo: Critical SF remains open for submissions to issue #2, which is due out in early November 2016, see http://www.bigecho.org/submissions.