I like anthologies. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good novel too, but a good anthology is like a box of excellent chocolates – something you can dip into from time to time, or sit with and devour all in one sitting. The point is that it’s not one huge meal, but a smorgasbord of different tastes. They’re not all going to be perfect for you, of course, but the joy of a book like this one is that you know that’s not because the tale is substandard – it’s just that it doesn’t resonate with you, with your experience or taste. You can still appreciate the quality and artistry of the work.
I’ve read anthologies in the past where I’ve ended up skipping more stories than I’ve read, but here I am snared again and again by first lines, by concepts, by tones, by lyricism… Sometimes just the evident joy of the author in telling a damn good story. The stories themselves range in length and format, and the subjects are so varied it’s not worth trying to list or explain them. You’ll find a story to love in this collection. You’ll certainly find one to haunt you, and like as not you’ll find several that you just HAVE to tell some friends about.
In an age when fiction magazines are supposed to be fading way, Uncanny shines like a beacon of hope. This is not a home for stories, it’s a breeding ground, a nursery that grows a forest of fiction, tall and proud, putting oxygen back into the world. Breathe in the atmosphere – it’s uncannily good.