Review by Aswathy Raveendran of "Sisters of the Pentacle" by Paul Taylor-McCartney

Paul Taylor-McCartney’s Sisters of the Pentacle is the first book of The Broken Pentacle Series, and is a fascinating tale that mixes historical drama, witchcraft, time travel, and the quiet power of sisterhood. Set across three very different time periods in the same corner of Wales, the novel follows three young women who are bound by magic, prophecy, and a sacred but damaged pentacle. It’s the kind of book that rewards patient readers. It is layered, atmospheric, and full of heart. Fans of thoughtful fantasy with real historical grounding will likely find themselves pulled in.

The story shifts between 1650, 1900, and 2080, each period anchored by a compelling young witch. In the plague year of 1650, we meet Mary Harries, a twelve-year-old "Knowing One" with the gift of foresight. Tenby is locked down, bodies pile up, and suspicion falls hard on anyone suspected of witchcraft. Mary’s courage, as she helps with the dead, faces angry mobs, and confronts dark forces on Caldey Island, gives the opening section a raw, visceral edge. Her protective grandmother Nancy and a shape-shifting boy named Abe add warmth and danger in equal measure.

Jump forward to 1900, and we’re with Harriet Gordon, a sharp-witted artist living in St Catherine’s Fort. Harriet chafes against her family’s expectations and her brothers’ cruelty. Her discovery of latent powers, helped along by a mysterious ceremonial blade (an athame) and a voice from the future, brings both wonder and trouble. The inclusion of real historical figures like Winston Churchill and H. G. Wells during a dinner party is a clever touch, and it nicely highlights the tension between Harriet’s inner world and the respectable society closing in around her.

In 2080, Indigo Carmichael takes centre stage. Living in a world scarred by environmental collapse, she’s the daughter of a driven scientist whose time-acceleration technology holds both salvation and peril. Indigo’s sections feel more dystopian and introspective, tying the historical threads together through risky experiments and a desperate hope of mending what’s broken across time.

What holds these timelines together is Taylor-McCartney’s clever use of recurring symbols like the circles of power, glowing portals, animal transformations, and fragments of the pentacle itself. The non-linear structure mirrors the book’s central idea which is all about how the history isn’t a straight line but a looping, interconnected web. Some transitions in the story are seamless and some lean a bit heavily on exposition or convenient coincidences. Still, the overall effect is one of building momentum toward something larger.

Thematically, the novel has real weight. The sisterhood depicted in the story goes beyond blood. It’s about shared resilience, passed-down knowledge, and collective resistance against oppression. Each girl pushes back against the constraints of her time period. If it was persecution and plague for Mary, it was rigid Edwardian gender roles for Harriet, and technological hubris for Indigo. Taylor-McCartney handles the "grey area" of magic thoughtfully, refusing to paint it as purely good or evil. There are strong undercurrents about environmental responsibility, the cost of playing with time, and the long shadow of patriarchy. The pentacle becomes a potent symbol of wholeness in a fractured world, and the respect shown to real witchcraft traditions feels genuine rather than superficial.

The three protagonists are the novel’s greatest strength. Mary’s quiet bravery amid horror is moving. Harriet’s artistic eye and dry humour bring welcome lightness and emotional texture. Indigo, dealing with her own physical limitations and inherited burdens, adds a layer of vulnerability that makes her future feel lived in and urgent. Supporting characters like Nancy, Abe, and even the antagonistic Gordon brothers mostly ring true, though a few (particularly in the future sections) lean toward archetype. The historical cameos work better than they have any right to, adding flavour without derailing the story.

Taylor-McCartney’s prose shines when he leans into atmosphere. The plague-stricken streets of Tenby, the misty cliffs at Harrowing Point, and the sterile glow of futuristic labs all come alive. There are lyrical moments during rituals and invocations that genuinely feel magical. That said, some dialogue runs a touch expository, and a few descriptive passages could have been trimmed. Even though there are few quibbles like these, the book overall gives you an immersive reading experience.

Overall, Sisters of the Pentacle is a success. Its world-building across centuries is impressive, and the emotional core which centres around the bond between the "sisters" across time is something that would stay with you. Pacing occasionally lags, especially when lore or technology needs explaining, and the 2080 storyline feels slightly less developed than the historical ones. But these are the growing pains of an ambitious first volume in what promises to be a rich series.

If you enjoy fantasy that takes its time, respects its traditions, and weaves real history with the supernatural, this one is worth your attention. It’s a story about healing what’s broken across time, across families, and across the land itself. I closed the book eager to see where the pentacle leads next.

About the reviewer
Dr. Aswathy Raveendran is an Assistant Professor of English at Jain (Deemed-to-be University), Kochi, India. Her research focuses on twentieth-century female gothic literature, with broader interests in sensory studies, eco-gothic narratives, and cultural memory. She is also a practising artist whose work explores themes of nature, memory, and the sensory imagination.

You can read more about Sisters of the Pentacle by Paul Taylor-McCartney on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

Review by Iain Minney of "The Day of the Triffids" by John Wyndham

John Wyndham's post-apocalyptic epic might sound somewhat underwhelming when explained as simply being about "Killer Plants" - especially when they're not even the all-singing "Audrey II" variety, from noticeably more upbeat storytellers. In fact, this particular famished flora is arguably only a bi-product of how humanity has accidentally undone itself in pursuit of advancing science and weaponry. ("A botanical Frankenstein" would, presumably, be similarly too glib and imprecise).

Waking up blindfolded in hospital, Bill Masen finds his daily routine unexpectedly and annoyingly interrupted. He soon learns he's ironically avoided the permanent blinding that affects practically everyone else, following the spectacular comet-shower that transfixed them all the night before.

At first, the blind actually do try to lead the blind, with everyone stumbling about distraught and disorientated. But, after involvement from those both good intentioned and bad, it's obvious the population simply cannot survive the complete and simultaneous breakdown of such a complicated, interconnected society that we all take for granted.

After the disoriented grow desperate, they then disappear entirely as great cities become crumbling ghost towns in the years that follow. Ultimately Bill, his companion Josella Playton, and a few others, must find safe sanctuary for the future of the human race, battling hardships both ancient and new.

Penned in 1951 (eerily pre-dating both satellites AND genetically modified crops) let's just hope no more of Wyndham's Nostradamus-like predictions come true in a world still single-mindedly bent on advancement ...

As well as being top-notch science-fiction, the novel allows the reader to indulge the dual fantasies of invisibly seeing inside a stranger's privacy, and what to pack and prioritize for the end of the world. Above all else, it's a story about preparedness, knowledge, practicality and ultimately, luck. There's also a subtle commentary on class and social standing, hinting at how perhaps this, too, is merely a fragile human construct that could so easily break down under the right conditions.

in the 70+ years since publication, the story's longevity has demanded countless reprints, spawned a number of dramatizations (of varying success) and also directly inspired Danny Boyle's zombie-ish 28 Days Later (2002). In fact, given the biggest threat the Triffids themselves pose is their inevitable recurrence akin to a persistent weed, perhaps this story gives birth to the uniquely English phobia, that gardening may one day set out for revenge.

About the reviewer

Iain Minney (B.A. in Journalism & Creative Writing pending): tall, "mature," sober, comedian(ish). He has dabbled in stand-up comedy - which he has been writing since he was teenager - as well as being involved with comedy sketches, local filmmaking groups and working on local radio for a number of years both as "Head of News" and having his own weekly 3-hour show. He has been interested in writing for some time and even tried recording a number of audiobooks of short stories he's written together with satirical rants based on the standup he never quite "stood up" with. He loves old punk and 80s rock music, all manner of movies, and Bill Hicks and George Carlin SAVED HIS LIFE. But that's a whole other conversation.

Review by Kirsten Arcadio of "Android Author" by Sapphira Olson

"Eloise slipped in and out of consciousness, a flickering representation of reality played in her mind like images in a Victorian zoetrope." Set in a dystopian world where androids write novels, Android Author is a steam-punky romp that explores themes of creativity, artificial intelligence and the boundaries between humans and AI. 

The novel is colourfully meta, chopping between the narrative of its various protagonists and the texts they are writing. Wild and fast-paced, the novel makes interesting use of intertextuality with multiple references to To Kill a Mockingbird and overtones of George Orwell and Philip K. Dick.

Initially, the narrative follows the fate of an AI story-writing machine (Android Writer PD121928) whose sole purpose is to produce stories and novels, churning out a concoction of weird and wonderful stories including a 140-character "novel," the only one of its works that is accepted for publication. During the process the reader learns about the AI’s life: its cat, killed by a drone delivery, the late wife it dismantled because it had begun to "hate her a little bit," and the ever-present existential threat of being killed if its stories are not accepted by a publisher. After its demise, its stories are collected by Eloise, a human prostitute, who endeavours to keep them alive in a number of different ways. 

The world of this novel is a rich and varied futuristic landscape, full of all manner of funky androids, including Mary Whitehouse sex androids and Audrey Hepburn killer fembots. In this world, the old literary classics of a bygone human era are considered "filth" and Eloise’s plight to publish a story a lost cause. 

As the novel progresses, Eloise’s aim to bring authentic storytelling back into the world takes her on a kaleidoscopic journey through time with a scientist Umberto and a varied cast of androids on a spaceship not unlike The Heart of Gold in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. 

I thoroughly enjoyed Android Author. It’s a rich, psychedelic experience, perfect for fans of Douglas Adams, graphic novels, and speculative fiction that is original and fun. 

About the reviewer

Kirsten Arcadio is a novelist and digital marketing professional based in London and the East Midlands. She holds a PhD in Creative Writing from the University of Leicester. 

Review by Doryn Herbst of "The Headland" by Abi Curtis

This is a speculative novel running along two timelines: the aftermath of the Great Storm in southern England, 1987, and events that unfold several decades later.

Delores, a painter, has been unable to produce anything for over a year. She decides to move permanently to her summer studio in the Headland, a coastal community of free-spirited artists, fishermen and tourists but overshadowed by the nearby nuclear power station. 

The morning after extreme weather ripped across the South, Delores walks along the shingled beach near where she lives to assess damage and to check up on her friends.

She stumbles across a piece of driftwood, utterly beautiful, smoothed by water and smelling of sea salt. Preparing to take her find home for the garden, Delores sees something strange sheltered inside a crevice resembling a mouth in the wood. The something is plant-like, animal-like, energy-like, a ball of pulsating colour, and alive. Delores feels a connection to the creature but wonders whether it has emerged as a result of the storm, radioactive emissions or a mixture of both.

The driftwood is installed on her living-room table. Delores subsequently develops an emotional relationship to the being inside, calling it Violet. Her new companion becomes a source of power which fuels inspiration and a phase of prolific creativity follows.

Approaching forty, Morgan is at the Headland, the place of his childhood summers, to tie up legal formalities and attend his mother Delores’s funeral. Her solicitor gives him a box of documents and a letter from her explaining its contents and their importance.

Morgan’s girlfriend is pregnant but he doesn’t feel ready for this next phase of his life. He does not know who his father is and hopes the box will contain information about this stranger. Instead, Morgan uncovers other secrets within the pages of a journal his mother kept following the Great Storm.

At the core of this captivating story is the experience of loss and of being lost, the devastating consequences of grief and the process of healing. The narrative also explores the yearning to belong and the need to understand the past in order to encompass the present. Questions about fundamental beliefs challenge lineal notions of time and space and suggest the relationship between the two may not be what we imagine.

About the reviewer
Doryn Herbst, a former water industry scientist working in Wales, now lives in Germany. Her writing considers the natural world and themes which address social issues. Poetry in print and online includes work in: Osmosis, The Storms, The Wild Word, anthology – It’s not SYMPTOMATIC It’s Systematic. She is a reviewer at Consilience.

You can read more about The Headland by Abi Curtis on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

Review by Harry Whitehead of "Merchant" by Alexandra Grunberg

 

 

Grunberg’s promising debut paints a dark picture of a far future, climate-broken, quasi-fantasy Earth where the few survivors of "The Flood" eke out meagre lives on mountain tops above lethal seas. Jessica, a half-Jewish girl and the "merchant" of the title, lives in a Venice relocated to the slopes of K2 in the Himalayas. Cem is a Venetian boy slowly falling into the mindless "hiss" of the Feral who haunt the darker caves. Shinobu is a scribe to the Empress of Fuji, whose people provide algae-block food for the world’s few human survivors with their still-functioning tech.

Jessica has memorized all of Shakespeare’s plays and regularly performs them in the segregated streets of Venice. But when she pushes a Fujian sailor into the sea to be devoured by the ever-present eels, she sets off a riot that results in many of the other Fujian sailors’ deaths and the algae blocks stop. Now Jessica must travel to Fuji to persuade the empress to forgive the Venetians and not to let them starve. And Shakespeare will have final word.

There’s certainly much to enjoy in the novel, with unusual settings, and folding Shakespeare’s words intrinsically into a dystopian, fantastic world, as well as loosely using The Merchant of Venice as a story model. Some of the writing is truly unsettling and often beautifully rendered. Broken statues "wore their pain plainly, told it clearly, even in their resolute silence." Less clearly carved at times – forgivably in this the first novel by the author – is the narrative direction, the central crisis and its direct connection to the actions of the protagonists. Jessica helps inaugurate the journey to Fuji (and, of course, pushes the sailor to his death, though we do not directly see this vital inciting action). Yet then Jessica becomes often almost invisible through the novel’s second half. She is a bit-part player, a pawn for others – the Empress, the antagonist (if there is one) Dario from the cannibalistic city-state, Les Alpes. The story meanders, rather, through the second half, towards – for this reader – a somewhat abrupt conclusion.

But I don’t want overly to critique an often potently imagined fantasy eco-fiction by a debut novelist. The book is professionally produced by Goldsmiths Press (although the non-indented, double-spaced paragraphs look more like a philosophical tract of aphorisms and, at first, had me trying to read more meaning than there was into a paragraph. The work’s genre and style do not suggest such a layout). Overall, Grunberg has written a deeply imagined and passionate novel and I look forward to seeing how her work evolves.

About the reviewer
Harry Whitehead a novelist, academic and researcher on climate change and the arts at the University of Leicester, UK, where he directs the Centre for New Writing.

Review by Paul Taylor-McCartney of "Hollow Daughter" by Katherine Hetzel

  

Readers already familiar with Hetzel’s previous output as author of children’s fantasy fiction, including the epic The Chronicles of Issraya series of books, will find much to enjoy in this collection of short stories that are aimed at adult readers but also draw their inspiration from the fantastical. 

The title of the collection, Hollow Daughter, is not only the story that opens proceedings, but also provides a unifying theme for the eclectic array of flash fiction and longer pieces that follow, chiefly, girls and women who face extraordinary situations that either serve to empower them or leave them at the mercy of more powerful forces. 

The collection contains a dizzying array of characters, settings and narrative styles, many of which offer the reader a mere glimpse of an alternative universe. Hetzel’s trademark economy of form is able to relay both an entire society and a turning point in a character’s much larger story. There are the familiar shades of Atwood’s Gilead in the title story, "Hollow Daughter," whereby a parent seeks the help of Mother Alish when her daughter fails to menstruate. "'We need your help, Mother.'” The Mother indicated the daughter. 'If her situation continues, there will be accusations laid against her, that she’s preventing her own fruitfulness.'" Hetzel leads the reader to many a satisfying cliff-hanger, shown to devastating effect in the title story, but also elsewhere in the affecting "The Pink Feather Boa Incident," "The Memory of Amelia Maybelove" and "Red Moon Rising." The last of these, along with the stunning "Miss Aveline’s Summerhouse," are so convincing and well-executed they hint at a potential future direction for Hetzel to pursue – the full-length ghost story.

I thoroughly recommend this collection. Hetzel’s stories surprise and delight in equal measure but are sure to leave readers reflecting on the nature of female identity and power, in its myriad forms. I look forward to seeing where Hetzel takes her readers next as she develops her skills as a writer of quality adult fantasy fiction. Any number of universes, as presented in this dazzling collection, would prove ripe for exploration. 

About the reviewer
Dr. Paul Taylor-McCartney is a writer, researcher and lecturer living in Cornwall. His interests include dystopian studies, children’s literature and initial teacher education. His poetry, short fiction and academic articles have appeared in print and electronic form, including: Aesthetica, The Birmingham Journal of Language and Literature, Education in Practice & Writing in Practice (National Association of Writers in Education), Dyst: Literary Journal, Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine, The Crank and Bandit Fiction. His debut children’s novel, Sisters of the Pentacle, was recently published by Hermitage Press.

Review by Jon Wilkins of "This Is Not a Science Fiction Textbook," ed. Mark Bould and Steven Shaviro

Well you could have fooled me! It is a textbook and then some. This is the perfect resource for a sci-fi fan. Excuse the trendy reduction. But it is also a wonderful introduction to the science fiction world for those not au fait with the genre. The book is an education. 

The book is divided into three sections: Theory, History, Key Concepts, followed by a fantastic bibliography and a list of further reading which deliver a smorgasbord of sci-fi delights that should be on any fan's reading bucket list.

We can read highly researched and insightful articles on everything we need to know and on things we didn’t know we needed to know. Each page offers a fresh insight. What I love about the format is that with every essay we have a selection of films or books that the writer recommends. These suggestions unsurprisingly open up a whole world of different worlds - worlds we could have never imagined if we didn’t delve deeper into science fiction. If you follow the authors' advice you will see that the sci-fi genre is not something to be scoffed at, but an insightful world of imagination and invention. 

Science-fiction writers have given us so much over the years, promoting ideas that seem to have come true, despite sometimes being ridiculed when they were written. Ahead of their time, these writers were inventive, perceptive, challengers of the status quo and magicians of the written word.

I personally have not always really enjoyed science fiction writing, but I really did enjoy the articles written here and especially loved the hints as to what I should read next. This is advice I will now be taking. As a textbook this has really taught me a great deal in an easy-to-read format that encourages further reading of the genre - and what could be better than that?

About the reviewer
Jon Wilkins is 68. He is married to the gorgeous Annie with two wonderful sons. He was a teacher for twenty years, a Waterstones bookseller and coached women’s basketball for over thirty years before taking up writing seriously. Nowadays he takes notes for students with Special Needs at Leicester University. He has had a work commissioned by the UK Arts Council and several pieces published traditionally as well as on-line. He has had poems in magazines and anthologies, art galleries, studios, museums and at Huddersfield Railway Station. He loves writing poetry. For his MA, he wrote a crime novel, Utrecht Snow. He followed it up with Utrecht Rain, and is now writing a third part. He is currently writing a crime series, Poppy Knows Best, set at the end of the Great War and into the early 1920s. Next year he takes up the UEA Crime Fiction Creative Writing MA. The game's afoot! 

Review by Isabelle Kenyon of "The Love Genes" by Eleni Cay

In her novel The Love Genes, Eleni Cay presents a thought-provoking exploration of love, relationships, and mental illness in a futuristic society set in 2039 Sweden. Through the eyes of protagonist Katie, the reader is transported to a world that is both familiar and strange, where technology has advanced to the point of ubiquitous phone use, but where societal norms and attitudes towards mental illness are still very much a work in progress.

Cay's writing is vivid and evocative, painting a detailed picture of the setting and the characters. The opening scene, in which Katie takes a train from London to Sweden, sets the stage for the novel and provides insight into the fast-paced, technologically advanced society in which it is set. The reader is immediately drawn into the world of the novel and is able to relate to Katie's struggles as she adjusts to her new life in Sweden.

One of the novel's main themes is the relationship between Katie and her boyfriend Mark, and the couple's struggles with infertility and their desire for a child. Through their conversations and interactions, the reader is able to gain a deep understanding of their characters and the complexities of their relationship. The novel also explores the impact of medical conditions, such as Katie's Multiple Sclerosis, on relationships and the difficulties of managing pain and sleep.

The novel also delves into the darker side of relationships, as Katie starts dating someone called Erik, who turns out to be violent and dangerous. This storyline raises interesting moral questions about the nature of mental illness and the effectiveness of prison as a means of rehabilitation. The novel's exploration of these themes is both nuanced and thought-provoking, and it invites the reader to consider their own attitudes and beliefs about these issues.

Overall, The Love Genes is a thought-provoking and well-written novel that explores complex themes and characters in a futuristic society. It is a novel that will resonate with readers who are interested in exploring the nuances of relationships, mental illness, and societal norms. Highly recommended.

About the reviewer
Isabelle Kenyon is a writer of prose and poetry based in Manchester with her two guinea pigs. She is the Managing Director of Fly on the Wall Press and also runs PR and editing services under Kenyon Author Services. She tweets at @kenyon_isabelle

Review by Nina Walker of "The This" by Adam Roberts

Social media is becoming an increasingly pervasive companion as the twenty-first century drags its mangled body onwards. The idea of engaging with the virtual world before you even get up to brush your teeth has become something of an unquestioned norm for many (myself included). It is these new abnormal norms that The This plays upon. The novel centres on ‘the this,’ a device in the roof of your mouth that allows you to tweet without lifting a finger. When I have presented this concept to friends, the response is always a slightly horrified and yet intrigued grimace. 

We are already too deeply entangled with social media and yet the allure and elegance of a hands-free interface! You have to admit it has some attraction about it. But from the first chapter we become aware that ‘the this’ aims for more than just an easier user experience. It wants to create an empathy gorge - a virtual space where you can live a million lives in the same way you might ravage a packet of Revels. ‘You are a farmer. You are a farmer. You are a farmer. You are a farmer, pressed into the army and spiked with a spear from behind on a battlefield whose name you do not know.’ We have become the product people pay to experience; our lives and traumas are just raisins in the trail mix of The This. Your life is no longer private or special. That treasured memory of your wife kissing you for the first time is now everyone’s treasured memory of your wife. 

What is so startling about Robert’s novel is not only its relevancy - it is, after all, science fiction - but how unbelievably alluring it is. To never be lonely again, to access the knowledge of your peers, and be truly useful: who could turn down an offer like that? 

Not me. 

That’s for sure. 

About the reviewer
Nina Walker is studying a Modern and Contemporary literature MA at the University of Leicester. She writes poetry on modernity, dogs, and pub men (among other things) which can be found on her blog here. Her most recent project is an extended prose piece on work culture called The Anatomy of Work. She also enjoys dystopian fiction, producing digital art and the work of e. e. cummings. She can’t swim or ride a bike so it's probably for the best that she stays inside and writes. 

You can also read one of Nina's poems on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

You can read more about Adam Roberts's The This on Creative Writing at Leicester here. 

Review by Simon Elson of "Gigantic" by Ashley Stokes

There’s a genre of book that has come to the fore recently: humorous sci-fi / fantasy. Perhaps the late Douglas Adams might be considered the father of this genre, but in recent years more and more authors have taken up the challenge, which is great news as I love a good sci-fi book and if it's a funny one then all the better.

Gigantic by Ashley Stokes fits nicely into this genre. Kevin Stubbs is convinced a Yeti / Bigfoot-type creature is living in woods just off the A127 near Sutton in Surrey. He spends his life searching for it. The narrative takes the form of letters and reports of an organisation called G.I.T. They are written in the first person by two different authors, with Kevin’s being the lion’s (or perhaps Bigfoot’s) share of the text.

This book had me from the prologue, when Kevin tells the reader that as a child he watched Arthur C. Clarke’s Mysterious World and read a weekly encyclopedia magazine entitled The Unexplained. As a twelve year old, I also did both. I have only recently lost the ESP cards that were given away with issue 1 of The Unexplained and I’ve still got the hardback book that accompanied the Mysterious World T.V. programme. At the risk of sounding a little strange, myself and a couple of friends were also convinced that a Bigfoot and an alien landing site were both situated in a nearby wood in Staffordshire, probably because we all watched Arthur C. Clarke and read weird magazines. Add the fact that my wife’s family hails from Surrey and I know the A127 and Sutton very well, the coincidences stacked up and I just had to keep reading. 

The book takes place over just a few days and you can’t second guess the ending. If I could read it again for the first time, I would just stop trying and enjoy the twists and turns. If this genre is your thing, then you should let this book share space on your bookshelf (or virtual bookshelf) alongside the classics of this style.

About the reviewer
Simon Elson is a Freelance Features Writer. His articles  have appeared in numerous national magazines including Best of British, Derbyshire Life and Writing Magazine. He also writes for the popular cycling website Veloballs.com and has been a guest blogger on The Huffington Post. 

Review by Simon Elson of "Fauna" by David Hartley

I didn't know that books like Fauna by David Hartley were published any more. I mean that in a positive manner. It is a collection of dystopian/sci-fi style stories. I thought books of short stories had almost stopped being published altogether, especially of the genre in this collection. I’m so glad that I was wrong. I read each story with fervour. As well as the sci-fi leaning, all the stories have an animal or insect subject matter, hence the title.

Some have a distinct ending, others are perhaps little ambiguous, prompting further thought before turning the page to read the next. The finest compliment I can offer is that although they are set in the twenty-first century (and some, the future) they reminded me of the golden age of this genre, the 1950s and 60s, and are comparable to the short stories of Phillip K Dick and John Wyndham.  

Without too many spoilers, some of the highlights for me were the ferryman of the Styx accepting an unusual passenger with an even more unusual cargo, a man hunting shadow animals - is he hunting shadow animals because all the real animals have been hunted already, or to protect the few that are living? - a fishing trawler netting a regal catch, horses in a barn as part of a time-slip, and a story about foxes that could have been written by the master of English horror, James Herbert.

For me, though, the standout story is ‘Betamorphosis.’ A young Cockroach is shunned by his family after being forced to take part in an experiment and thinks he is … now, that would be a major spoiler. Poignancy, family feuds and some laugh-out-loud moments are all crammed in to a short story about an insect.

In my opinion, this single story would be reason enough to buy the volume. I will certainly be seeking out more works by David Hartley.

About the reviewer
Simon Elson is a Freelance Features Writer. His articles  have appeared in numerous national magazines including Best of British, Derbyshire Life and Writing Magazine. He also writes for the popular cycling website Veloballs.com and has been a guest blogger on The Huffington Post. 

Review by Colin Gardiner of "New York 2140" by Kim Stanley Robinson

 

New York 2140 is the brilliant vision of a flooded metropolis struggling against capitalist greed and the ravages of climate change.

Kim Stanley Robinson weaves multiple storylines to capture the imagination. The characters are vivid and the narrative expertly paced, but the real lead character of the story is the city itself. Towering out of the flooded skyline, with its canals and submerged secrets, New York really shines in this luminous tale.

This is a great, almost-utopian novel that provides hope for these uncertain times.

About the reviewer
Colin Gardiner lives in Coventry. He writes short stories and poems and has been published by The Ekphrastic Review, Ink Pantry, The Midnight Street Press and the Creative Writing at Leicester blog. More of his work can be read here.

Review by Simon Elson of "The Day of the Triffids" by John Wyndham

If you haven’t read The Day of the Triffids, then firstly I envy you as you can read it for the first time, but secondly, I bet you know what a Triffid is. The book turns seventy this year and is the perfect example of the sci-fi sub-genre Post-Apocalyptic. You may have seen one of the two BBC adaptations, the first made in 1981 starring John Duttine was great, the second made in 2009 starring Eddie Izzard was mediocre at best. The 1962 film starring Howard Keel has the same name but it didn’t seem to be based on the book I’ve read!   

I digress, back to the book. It takes the form of a first-person memoir by Bill Masen and you only know what he knows; any further information is told to Bill and recounted by him. It starts with him in hospital with his eyes bandaged after a Triffid sting nearly killed him. During the previous night what was described by the news as a comet storm lit up the night sky and was a worldwide phenomenon. Bill, however, later suggests a different cause for the lights. Everyone who watched the display is now blind. You quickly learn that he has no dependents or relatives alive and is in a unique position to tell us about the origin of the strange plant.

The novel follows his adventure through London where he meets his future partner Josella Playton, an infamous novelist who had written a Fifty Shades style of book. He battles with both the Triffids and the fact that most other people are now blind. An interesting minor character is Coker, an Orator – a voice for hire, who starts off as an enemy of Bill.     

The author John Wyndham is almost prophetic in this work. The Cold War was only a few years old when he wrote it, yet he has it escalating to what it became in the sixties. The space race, satellites (Sputnik was launched seven years after it was written), a weapons defence system that sounded very much like the STAR WARS system proposed by Reagan in the eighties and genetically modified crops are all described perfectly.

A lot of classic sci-fi novels (Jules Verne and H. G. Wells etc) whilst still excellent have noticeably aged, whereas The Day of The Triffids with the exception of a couple of paragraphs (mainly describing News-reels at the cinema) could have been written yesterday 

I’ve read most of Wyndham’s other novels. The Kraken Wakes runs this book a very close second. In 2009 a ‘lost’ novel of his, Plan For Chaos, was published posthumously. It was, for me as a lifetime Wyndham fan, a disappointment. Some critics described it as almost unreadable. I’ll remember him for the almost perfect novel The Day Of the Triffids.      

   

About the reviewer
Simon Elson is a Freelance Features Writer. His articles  have appeared in numerous national magazines including Best of British, Derbyshire Life and Writing Magazine. He also writes for the popular cycling website Veloballs.com and has been a guest blogger on The Huffington Post.   

Review by Simon Elson of "The Separation" by Christopher Priest

My favourite novel genre is sci-fi (preferably earth-based and near-future). I’ve read most of Jules Verne, a lot of H. G. Wells and pretty much all John Wyndham, although recently I’ve been reading World War Two fiction – Ben Elton and Jack Higgins. The other day on a recommended books list a title I’d not heard of popped up - The Separation by Christopher Priest (published 2001) that straddled both genres. It’s already making ‘classic sci-fi’ lists after just a couple of decades. 

Its subject matter of Nazi Germany alternative history has been done a lot: Fatherland by Robert Harris, The Man in The High Castle by Phillip K Dick, SS-GB by Len Deighton, 48 by James Herbert to name just a few of them.  Because of this I nearly passed on it. I’m glad I didn’t. It was different to all the books I mentioned; it was a novel with a real ‘Oh!’ moment at the end and then a sleepless night trying to make sense of the whole book.

I hope my last comment and the sci-fi label won’t put you off. It’s not a Hitler-wins-war scenario where England lives in fear. It starts in the present day and tells its narrative through several people’s first-person memories and historical documents.

The style of it, rather than being like alternative history, was more like normal historical fiction. it reminded me a little of Robert Harris’s book Munich rather than his Fatherland. I’d also say in places there was also a touch of Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-Five without (spoiler alert for people who haven’t read S-H-5) the aliens.     

There were plot twists and turns all the way right up to the last full stop. If I’d been reading a physical copy of the book, I’d have been aware of arriving at the last page as I would have run out of paper to turn but reading an electronic copy it was less obvious. I tried to read the next page to find notes about the author. ‘WHAT…’ was my thought, so I turned back and re-read the last couple of pages, savouring them more the second time, then finally understanding the end (I think) after an hour or so of not sleeping, even though it was late. 

If when I’ve finished a book, I think ‘Oh no, I’ll never read that book again for the first time’ then that’s how I judge how good it was. This was one of those books.

  

About the reviewer
Simon Elson is a Freelance Features Writer. His articles  have appeared in numerous national magazines including Best of British, Derbyshire Life and Writing Magazine. He also writes for the popular cycling website Veloballs.com and has been a guest blogger on The Huffington Post.

Review by Colin Gardiner of “Pattern Recognition” by William Gibson

Cayce Pollard is a young American woman with a ‘sensitivity’ to corporate branding symbols. Cayce makes a living advising clients on the viability of their product. She has been hired by an eccentric, rich client to investigate the origins of a mysterious film clip that has appeared on the internet.

Gibson deftly draws the reader into a post-11 September world of espionage and intrigue.

The novel has a melancholic feel, suited to the geo-political tensions of the era.
His characters are sharply defined, in particular the protagonist, Cayce, who forms a sympathetic but sharp-eyed lead.

Gibson has a talent for describing the cultural undercurrents of the city. London, in particular comes across as a potentially lonely, but vibrant place, filled with possibility.

The novel works, both as a compelling thriller and as a curious historical time-capsule, written just before the social media boom of the mid 2000’s. Recommended for readers of science fiction, and techno-thrillers.

About the Reviewer 

Colin Gardiner lives in Coventry. He writes short stories and poems and has been published by The Ekphrastic Review, Ink Pantry, The Midnight Street Press and The Creative Writing at Leicester blog. He is currently studying a Masters in Creative Writing at Leicester University. More of his work can be read here

Review by Paul Taylor McCartney of "Remnant" by Lania Knight

Lania Knight’s contribution to the dystopian genre, Remnant, is a worthy one. It depicts an all-too familiar world recovering from eschatological meltdown. The action takes place within the ‘Compound,’ a post-industrial hive overseen by a dying queen, Maitris, who has already extended her natural life by hundreds of years by having her team surgically transfer her personality to young female clones, each one bred to ensure genetic continuity. The author presents a world ravaged by unchecked scientific exploitation and corporate ruthlessness; but the narrative is sequenced to show how hope and hopelessness (a theory first expounded by Ernest Bloch) can happily co-exist within the dystopian novel and even provide the reader with the driving compulsion to reach its conclusion, as is the case here. 

There are some interesting flourishes in terms of form and style. Knight has a keen ear for the musicality of language, almost at word level, providing a wealth of striking imagery on almost every page: ‘Old voices chanting and singing, crying, asking why they can’t go home. The water ping ping pings something … why it is so silent is why their bodies are so dumb.’ The inventiveness in the opening chapters can seem initially disorientating for any reader trying to piece together the various fragments of this new order, but this response soon settles down. In fact, ‘Brokerns,’ ‘TaNas,’ ‘Soldjens,’ ‘Synthfeeds’ and ‘ModDNA’ help to reveal an established trope in the genre: that as a fictive world is re-born, so too must language be refigured to help describe this new reality; Knight’s achievement here is reminiscent of Margaret Atwood’s in Oryx and Crake (2003), or Cormac McCarthy’s in his post-apocalyptic novel, The Road (2009). 

Experiments in style are never enough without a novel being grounded in believable characters and our sympathies never stray too far from the young princess, Esme, whose principal task in life is to replace the current queen and rule with a very different vision and set of values. Her development from young girl to emboldened woman is one of the novel’s major achievements, allowing Knight to construct a new direction for this world - a new direction that is unexpected and a sign of her imagination as writer.  


About the reviewer
Paul Taylor McCartney is currently Head of Secondary Teacher Education at Warwick University. He has enjoyed a long and varied teaching career in the discipline of English/Theatre Studies and is following a part-time PhD in Creative Writing with Leicester University. His research interests include dystopian studies, narratology and 20th century literary criticism.

Review by Sandra Pollock of "Railhead" by Philip Reeve

Railhead is a futuristic, science-fiction epic by award winning novelist Phillip Reeve, who has already created a growing readership of young people and adults prepared to join him in his world of space, aliens and machines. His world is very imaginative, for those who are a bit of a rebel at heart and dream of the tomorrow.  

The main character in Railhead is a petty thief by the name of Zen Starling, who enjoys nothing more than riding the sentient trains, all with personalities and attitudes, that take him across the vast expanse of space. This allows him to see and visit the different worlds that exist between K-gates, as he uses his talents to support his family.

Zen is engaged to steal a small box by an enigmatic character with the promise of riches.  Set in the distant future where humans have left Earth and are living on far-flung planets,  interplanetary travel takes place by means of these special sentient trains who go through the K-gates from planet to planet.  The network of planets or worlds are shared with a wide range of strange life forms that include intelligent machines, humanoids known as "Motorik," and other imaginary beings.  

One interesting species are bugs that can organise themselves into a conscious group and speak, known as “Hive Monks.” They have their own aspirations, and reasons for wanting to travel through the K-gates. There are also the Guardians who have to maintain peace through the appointment of the governing families, and control everything and everyone through the Datasea. 

For Zen, this is all a journey of danger and of self-discovery, maturity and of finding love - one which challenges his own view of who he is and what he stands for. In this rich, vividly described tale, Reeve poses questions for us to consider - for example, humanoid development, machines taking the place of humans in the workplace and how we treat the other species that live with us on this planet, not to mention the have and the have-nots.
Reeve manages to create, using descriptive and detailed imagery, new worlds and beings; and he also makes us look at familiar worlds and beings in new ways -  strange but believable.  

Railhead is a very enjoyable read which I could not put down once I’d started it.  The plot is thankfully not predictable and with its many twist keeps you engaged right to the end.  Even if you would not consider yourself a Railhead - that is someone who loves trains and the joy of travelling on them - you will enjoy reading this book. This was my first Philip Reeve book having met him recently in Leicester, where I had the pleasure of hearing him read segments from the book. I was compelled to give it a try and I was not disappointed. 


About the reviewer
Sandra Pollock loves fiction, fantasy and poetry and is taking an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Leicester.