Jamie Marriage

Jamie Marriage is an internationally published Australian cyberpunk author with a taste for the dangerous and obscene aspects of life. His work ranges from the sarcastic to the satirical. Links to his work can be found at www.JamieMarriage.com

To be an assassin with a clean conscience sounds unlikely, especially when you get to live the high life without any of those niggling feelings from the lives you’ve ended, but not for cybernetically enhanced spy/assassin Agent Caswell.

For Peter Caswell, special operative for an agency so secret that even he doesn’t know anything about it, aside from the assumed name of his handler, life is good. Waking up after every covert mission in an expensive hotel with a stuffed bank account and no memories of the things he had to do to earn it (thanks to an implant in his neck) seems like a perfect job. Or at least it did until he was sent into space on a sudden mission.

Tasked with investigating the deaths of an advanced weaponry development team, Agent Caswell’s implant is unceremoniously activated without the usual preparations, and he is sent on a seemingly impossible mission with little more than a photo of a missing scientist and a countdown ticking away before his implant fires up and wipes his memory of everything he’s recently done. What’s ahead of him goes beyond normal time and space; the most interesting mission Peter will ever forget.

Zero World is the new exciting, adrenaline-pumped novel by Jason M. Hough. And when it comes to high risk action Hough knows his stuff.

Falling somewhere between a Cold-War era spy novel and a sci-fi action story Zero World is a narrative that complicates genres in incredible and attention-grabbing ways. Taking place partly on Earth, in space, and somewhere familiar but far from normal reality, Zero World takes from each location and scenario a true feeling of belonging; characters are rooted deeply in their environments and language smoothly shifts between settings in a way that becomes far more real than is usually found in genre fiction.

Action and subterfuge are the basis of Zero World, which Hough handles masterfully. And while it would have been easy for this novel to become little more than a bloodbath, the author often deepens the narrative, replacing violence with intrigue, and quick solutions with drawn out resolutions, which prove ultimately more satisfying to the reader. But when the action strikes, it hits hard, often taking the form of breathless escapes and pure fights for survival against incredible odds.

Zero World is a perfect novel for any reader who loves action or spy novels, with plenty of intensity to engage all readers. A fantastic read and one you won’t want to put down until it’s finished.

A. V. Mather

A. V. Mather is Brisbane-based writer of Fantasy fiction for Young Adults. She has a BA in Fine Arts and a Post-Grad in Education. In previous decades, she has worked as a Scenic Artist and a Secondary School Art teacher. Eight years ago, she finally gave in and devoted herself wholly to writing. She is represented by Tom Witcomb, of Blake Friedmann Agency in London, England.

A. V. Mather enjoys reading widely across genres and is also interested in art, satire, history, photography, popular culture, psychology, road trips and good stories – real and imagined.

You can follow her on Twitter @AVMather

In Thief of Lives, Australian author Lucy Sussex explores issues surrounding gender and relationships in four short – and vastly different — stories. Each one provides a different insight into the lives of characters who exist on the fringe of their society. Whether through vocation, origins, personality, or choices – each is living a life which isolates them in some way, making their associations all the more unusual and important. With every story, we look into worlds where attraction runs far deeper than lust or love and evil is a matter of degree.

We begin with Alchemy, a historic fantasy set in Ancient Mesopotamia. In this life-spanning tale, a demon seeks to lure a singularly intelligent young woman to the black arts. He recognises in her a rare mind that would, together with his knowledge of alchemy, advance the Mesopotamian civilisation to unprecedented heights.

Second is The Fountain of Justice, a modern crime story set in Australia. In it, a tenacious solicitor ruminates over past defendants, crimes and coincidences, whilst engaging in a case involving local hoodlums. There is a strong pull of affection and loyalty in her musings, despite the overwhelming sense of a tragedy unfolding.

The Subject of O throws us into the student world where a repressed young woman experiences a belated awakening. Her experiences lead her to value her own opinions and ideals, rather than shed them, as her knowledge broadens.

Thief of Lives is the final, and my favourite, of the four. The mysterious PA of a traumatised author arrives at Bristol station on a research mission. The arrival coincides with a publicity frenzy for a sensational new author, and the PA is inexorably caught up in events. It is an intriguing and tantalising urban fantasy, with witty morals and allusions, and also gives an insight into the history of the town.

The four stories together provide a showcase for the breadth of Lucy Sussex’s vision and creativity. Although the genres differ, the theme of relationships are very much at the heart of each. In delivering variations on the theme, she has created stories with wonderfully diverse voices and layers.

In line with the genres represented, the pacing and tension differs from story to story. There is a dreamy, ethereal quality to the writing in Alchemy: the sense of a lofty viewpoint borne of immortality. Then we are slammed back to earth with the gritty, urban voice of The Fountain of Justice. I felt a genuine sense of self-consciousness reading The Subject of O, and of power and obfuscation in the language of Thief of Lives.

So how does anyone categorise Lucy Sussex? She is at once modernist and historian, fantasy and crime writer, fiction and non-fiction, adult/children’s/YA and a literary critic. She defies pigeon-holing and can only be pinned down by her interests in feminism and exploring the broad theme of gender.

I enjoy stories that provide tangible evidence of relationships beyond the accepted standards of love or lust. There are so many important relationships that don’t come under either heading. Those that go beyond ‘a feeling’ and need a richer vocabulary to describe them. They make our experience of life and other people so much deeper and more rewarding. I am instantly a fan of writing that explores associations borne of proximity, admiration, awkwardness, suffering or affinity. It is the true stuff of life, the relationships that fill in all of the gaps around the big loves, hatreds and lusts. Lucy Sussex plunges deep into the loam with Thief of Lives and should be enjoyed by anyone who likes to think about a story, long after closing the book.

Marianne de Pierres

Australia SFF author and fiction junkie.

So part two of OUTLANDER’s first season hit the shelves in Australia this week. I have to admit to the fact that I’ve been counting the days. Though always a bit of a fan girl at heart, this series has seen me engage in some embarrassingly lame behaviour. Confession number #1.

Anyway, to the show… So things continue to fluctuate for Jamie and Claire; moments of good will, peace and happiness punctuated by betrayal, abject fear, and hard-to-watch violence. At the heart of it all is the love story between them and the destructive force of Black Jack Randall whose obsession with Jamie culminates in the most powerful moments I’ve ever seen on television or film.

I don’t really want to recount the story, you can get that from any number of reviews and blogs. I’d prefer to talk to you about my reflections on the power of the storytelling.

When I first started watching SONS OF ANARCHY a few years ago, I was compelled by its fearlessness. OUTLANDER stands apart from other TV fictions in the same way — because of its willingness to go to emotionally difficult places. It conveys a sense that there has been an honest and very real attempt by everyone involved in the production to make something barefaced honest and heartfelt; something lovingly detailed and rich in characterisation. Where SONS OF ANARCHY lost me, in the end, was its lack of balance, and its unrelenting male viewpoint. Jax Teller displayed no emotional intelligence or growth; he gave me no hope, and, therefore, no reason to go on.

That’s where OUTLANDER is a different beast; it offers both balance and hope. I believe the ebb and flow of Jamie and Claire’s fortunes has an important and authentic rhythm to it within the hyper reality of the story. And that rhythm is interspersed with moments of dry wit and humanity: the easy and rough comradeship between the Rupert, Angus, and Willie; Murtagh’s loyalty to Jamie; Laoghaire’s jealousy; Mrs Fitz’s irrepressible motherliness, Colum’s intransigence; and Geillis’s whimsy. All the little moments in between the big ones are just as right and important.

But the big ones…well…

Geillis and Claire’s “witch” trial is a terrifying portrayal of mob mentality and the power of superstition, and those scenes had me wincing on more than one occasion.

But Jamie’s imprisonment and torture by Black Jack is simply very hard to write about. Ignoring the fact (as Mandy pointed out to me) that we don’t ever really understand why Black Jack is the way he is (how does a sociopath get to be who they are?), the quality of the acting, the imagery, the setting, the circumstances combine to transport the audience. While Tobias Menzies is undeniably superb as Black Jack, my deepest admiration goes to Sam Heughan who totally went to that dark, dark place. His acting is sublime because it almost isn’t… acting that is. He’s as close as an actor to get to that other reality – that space where the transference between fake and real occur. He dwelt there for a time, supported by the team around him, creating true fictional magic. Bravo to everyone involved!

Yet having said that, I actually had to watch those scenes from behind my hand, trying to put some distance between myself and the emotions it evoked. Confession #2.

OUTLANDER’s also got me wondering a lot about what it is that makes a truly passionate and enduring romance so appealing — so satisfying — to so many people (men and women), and what it is that has prevented me, as a writer, really exploring that dynamic in my own prose.

Honestly, I think I’ve been a coward about the romances in my own books; afraid that writing a romantic story was a surrender to patriarchal programming, to stereotypes, and to the perpetuation of a myth that is nether real nor likely attainable for most. I’ve dabbled around the edge of it, but never committed.

You know, I think I’ve been wrong. Confession #3

Recently I asked my numerous Facebook followers if they believed in a one, true, meant-to-be-together, enduring love. The answers were quite varied, and yet a good percentage believed that such a thing did exist, and those who didn’t gave me they underlying sense that they wished it was. It seems that people truly crave that special connection with another human. Not something temporary and gratifying, but something deep and enduring.

Ronald D. Moore’s adaptation of Diana Gabaldon’s work is a fierce endorsement of this same belief (to this point in the story anyway). In fact, it is fierce in every way: passionately, physically, politically, morally, and emotionally. But more than anything, it clings to hope in its many and varied forms. I don’t know about you, but I need stories that do that.

It’s going to be a long wait until April next year when season 2 is released. By then my DVD’s will be well loved from repeated watchings, which, as someone who doesn’t ever revisit the same story, is the highest accolade I can give.

Escapism doesn’t get much better than this!