The Urban Fantasy Anthology Part 17

I am in awe of these two gentlemen (and gentlemen both truly are). Their intelligence, imaginations, talents, and works are breathtaking. They are masters of the art and craft of storytelling. They (and others of their kind) create wonderful tales that I wish could magically attract folks simply by being what it is: superlative reading.

In a perfect world, great fiction-or even entertainingly adequate fiction-would not be a commodity that has to be packaged and sold.

But publishing is not only an imperfect world, it's a world with an absurd business model where no one has any real idea why a particular book sells or how to reliably get proper attention for its products. In the last few years, it's gotten to be an even stranger and more dangerous a place for writers to survive. What little guidance the best publishers and editors might once have provided doesn't matter as much. More than ever, whatever simplistic label can be stuck to a book-or, better yet, what already highly successful, previously published book/author that a new t.i.tle can be compared to-matters a great deal. It matters because without such tagging, books don't get into brick-and-mortar stores at all and don't get favorably grouped for online sales.

The chutes are used because they help at least some of the cattle get fat so they can retire to nice green meadows rather than winding up as part of a Big Mac. Some others can at least chew their cud and moo a little longer than they might have otherwise.

Readers and writers of books that became known as urban fantasy-let's call it urban fantasy/paranormal from here on out-were ready for it because, well, its time had come. Outside of literary influences-including comic book heroines-strong women heroes like Ellen Ripley in the Alien series (1979, 1986, 1992, and 1997) and Sarah Connor in the first two Terminator movies (1984 and 1991) made an impression in film. And although the protagonist is male, The Crow (1994) was, at its core, a supernatural love story inextricably tied to the modern city. Like The Crow, the 1998 vampire-action film Blade (1998) was based on a comic. Its macho human-vampire hybrid protected humans against vampires-but why couldn't a woman do the same?

Television series were another influence. Beauty and the Beast (original run: 19871990 on CBS) updated the old tale of the n.o.ble man-beast. His love was a smart a.s.sistant district attorney in New York. He lived among other social outcasts under the city. Nick Knight, a TV movie released in 1989, was about a vampire working as a police detective in modern day Los Angeles. In 1992, CBS reshaped it as a series, Forever Knight. It ran three seasons, ending in 1996. The X-Files (originally aired from 1993 to 2002 on Fox) is considered by many as the defining series of the nineties. Despite its science fictional trappings and conspiracy theories, true believer Fox Mulder and skeptic Dana Scully were paranormal investigators. The protagonist of the Xena: Warrior Princess, a supernatural fantasy adventure series that aired in syndication 19952001, may not have been modern or urban, but she was a formidable fighter seeking her redemption by helping others.

Since the first books that became known as urban fantasy/paranormal were written before its existence, the authors can't be said to have been directly inspired by Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series (19972003) [and its spin-off series Angel (19992004)]. But many of those who later became its readers and writers probably were.

The Buffy series was darker than Whedon's action-comedy/horror parody film of the same name (1992) and better conveyed his concept of an empowered woman fighting monsters (metaphors for problems that humans, especially teenagers, face).

Buffy Summers had "kicka.s.situde"-and by kicka.s.situde I don't necessarily mean violence. In slang, the word originally meant awesome, cool, something that "kicks a.s.s" in a positive manner. As far as female examples, the easiest comparisons are women in rock who displayed kicka.s.situde: Joan Jett, Chrissie Hynde, Patti Smith, Janis Joplin, Lita Ford, Deborah Harry, etc.

And, like rock-and-roll, Buffy had meaning but was also a lot of fun.

Books have been written on the pop cultural meaning and impact of Buffy. Let's just sum it up by saying Buffy borrowed from folklore, myth, literature, film, and television for serialized episodes that were part of a larger story arc. Although a drama, there was plenty of comedy and genre-blending from romance, science fiction, martial arts, action, and more. Buffy and her friends were saving the world from supernatural threat with a combination of investigation, physical combat, and magic. She was also struggling with her role as a "chosen" heroine and learning about herself as a person.

But even if not recognized as such, the urban fantasy/paranormal heroine was definitely around pre-Buffy (and even pre-Hamilton) in fantasy literature.

Mercedes Lackey's Diana Tregarde first appeared in a couple of short stories and then in three novels: Burning Water (1989), Children of the Night (1990), and Jinx High (1991). An American witch whose day job is writing romance novels, Diana is a Guardian. This gives her more magical power, but also the responsibility of providing aid to those who ask her for help. In the three books (published by Tor as horror) she provides protection from angry deities, vampires, and a sorceress.

Tanya Huff 's Blood books (five novels and a collection of short stories) mixed a strong heroine with vampires, mystery, suspense, and romance. Blood Price (1991) introduced Vicki Nelson, a homicide detective forced to retire when her eyesight fails due to Retinitis pigmentosa. Vicki teams up with Henry Fitzroy-a 450-year-old vampire and b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of Henry VIII-and becomes a private investigator. The other man in her life is Detective-Sergeant Mike Celluci. The series is set in Toronto. The books became the basis of a short-lived TV series, Blood Ties, which premiered on Lifetime in 2007.

The urban fantasy/paranormal heroine owes a lot to the tradition of the hard-boiled tough-guy American detective genre-there were tough gals, too, like Gale Gallagher, Honey West, V. I. Warshawski, and Kinsey Millhone-and to stories of "occult detectives" and various "vampire detectives." She is also derived from sword and sorcery and is a female incarnation of the action-adventure hero. Most of all, she's relevant to the here and now. It may be fantasy, but urban fantasy/paranormal says a lot about our fears and hopes, our cynicism and angst, our personal journeys and cultural climate.

In the last five years-a period that saw the phenomenal success of Stephenie Meyer's young adult vampire-romance fantasy series and its consequent film versions; movies like Underworld; Blood Ties on TV; Charlaine Harris's Sookie Stackhouse novels become the HBO series True Blood; and young adult urban fantasy/paranormal romance series were introduced-urban fantasy/ paranormal boomed. So many t.i.tles were published-some good, some bad, some in-between; some derivative, some highly original-it became impossible for even the most devoted fan to keep up with it all, especially since it takes multiple volumes for the whole story to be told.

That's one disadvantage of uf/p: It tends to be written best in novel form-in multiple sequential volumes at that! You simply don't find many high-caliber short stories that completely fit the model. I'm not even sure all the fine stories selected for the pertinent section of this anthology can be a.s.signed to this subgenre.

What I think you will find, however, is that all of the fiction collected here has something in common: An intersection of "the other"-the magical, the strange, the weird, the wondrous, the dark that illumines, the revelation of the hidden-with the mundane, the world we know.

Our world is in perpetual need of this otherness. It entertains and, at its best, enlightens. We need both.

Companions to the Moon.

Charles de Lint.

"I think Edric's cheating on me."

Gwen's eyes widen, then fill with sympathy.

We're sitting across from each other at a small table in the Half Kaffe Cafe. It's a regular haunt of ours-as Bohemian as Gwen can tolerate, and about as uptown as I'll go. They make an excellent cup of regular coffee, but they also serve the fancy chi-chi drinks that she likes. Decaf soy lattes. Chai teas.

"Oh, Mary," she says. "That's awful."

I've known Gwen forever. We were best friends from kindergarten all the way through to our final year of high school when I made a sharp turn into garage rock-slash-punkdom, while Gwen suddenly became this responsible young woman aiming for university whom I couldn't recognize anymore. It felt like it happened overnight. One moment we were doing everything together-Girl Guides, piano lessons, messing about in the woods behind her house-the next we were strangers.

But while we drifted apart-I couldn't care less about a house in the suburbs, or worry about finding a good job, and the last thing Gwen would do is listen to the Clash or come to a Stooges concert with me-we made an effort to stay friends. Once or twice a month we had lunch, or the occasional dinner, and caught up. Sometimes we even brought our husbands.

Okay, Edric and I aren't married. But seven years together is almost as good as, don't you think?

"How did you find out?" she asks.

"Well, I haven't, exactly. It's just this feeling I get."

Gwen nods wisely. She starts to tick off points on her fingers. "Doesn't seem as interested in you anymore. Hang-ups when you pick up the phone. Has to work late a lot more often than he used to."

"None of the above. You forget, he's always out late."

"Duh," she says and slaps her brow with the palm of her hand. "Working musician."

"Anyway, I can't quite put my finger on it. We just don't seem to do as much together. I mean, we used to do the shopping as a couple. Yard work, household ch.o.r.es. Now, he's says that if I'm getting groceries, it's more efficient if he puts in a laundry, or does some weeding in the garden. I liked that we did that kind of thing together, but now we hardly do."

"So tell him."

"I have. It doesn't help."

"And is he taking more out-of-town gigs than he used to?"

I shake my head. "No, but that's a funny thing. I was looking at the calendar the other day and noticed that most of his out-of-town gigs are during a full moon. Then I checked the website his booking agent put up for him, and he's always out of town during the full moon."

Gwen smiles. "Maybe he's a werewolf."

"That's not helping."

"I'm sorry," she says. "But there's always been something different about him."

Different? I suppose. There's certainly always been a part of him that I can't reach-that I feel I'll never know-but that touch of mysteriousness is half of what attracted me to him in the first place. And I've never been the kind of person who believes in changing the person I'm with. You fall in love with them because of who they are. Unless they acquire some new, destructive habit, why would you want to change them?

"Just remember," Gwen says. "You're not defined by your relationship to him."

"I know that."

"And besides, you're not even married."

That's so Gwen. For her, a piece of paper always has more weight than the knowledge we acquire beyond school or university, or the depth of the feelings people carry around in their hearts.

For me, the feeling is everything.

We fall silent for a few moments. I drink some of my coffee and consider getting one of the cafe's fancy scones. Gwen has a sip of latte and I know she's not even tempted by the treats behind gla.s.s at the counter. She's looking out the window. It's a beautiful autumn day out there, but that's not what has her attention.

I'm not sure if she's fascinated or repulsed by the parade of people with their tats and piercings and individual fashion sense. Probably a little of both. She so doesn't fit into the scene down here in Crowsea, but I feel right at home.

"You know," she says, "whenever I hear about something like this, a big change that comes out of nowhere, I..."

She gets this look that I'm beginning to recognize. This has come up before. Her gaze turns to meet mine.

"What happened that last year of high school?" she asks. "I thought we'd be friends forever."

"We're still friends," I say, my voice mild.

She nods. "But you know what I mean. You just changed overnight."

"I didn't change. I evolved. If anyone changed, it was you."

"I didn't..."

"Besides," I say before she can go on. "Change doesn't automatically mean bad. Sometimes we need to change, to become who we really are."

"And who are you, really, Mary?"

This is new. I'm about to brush off her question with a joke, but I think about what's happened to me, my suspicions about Edric, and the way it has me feeling stupid, spying on him, grasping for some, any kind of understanding.

"I don't know," I tell her.

I manage a CD shop over on Williamson, but I don't believe that people are defined by their jobs any more than they are by their relationships. Both can tell you something about a person, but they're only pieces of the big puzzle. And that's what I am to myself right now. A big puzzle.

"This is going to sound awful," she says, "and I'm totally sympathetic to your situation, but I have to admit that there's a little piece of me that feels relieved that you can be going through all of this."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just...well, I found out that Bill's been going to this website called SuicideGirls. You know, it's one of those pay p.o.r.n sites where girls pose naked. Girls who, you know..."

"Are all tattooed and pierced like me."

She nods. "Everywhere you turn, that's the cool thing. Actors, musicians, p.o.r.n stars for G.o.d's sake. They're all cool. It's like you're a Neanderthal if you don't have a half-dozen tattoos and something stuck in your tongue, or dangling from a place that was never meant to dangle anything."

"In your opinion."

"In my opinion, yes. All of you are the people who are s.e.xy and cool while the rest of us are just, I don't know, drones or something."

"I don't think you're a drone," I tell her. "And I don't think that there's anything innately cool about tats or piercings. They're either something you use to express yourself, or they're not."

"That's not what the media seems to be telling us these days."

I smile. "Except mostly what I see in the media are skinny women with big b.o.o.bs and blonde hair. They're not exactly Goths, or punks."

"No, but they make it out like there's this whole exotic underground that ordinary people can't be a part of."

"Do you want to be a part of it?"

"That's not the point. They're selling it as the new cool. I mean, Angelina Jolie's already way more beautiful than any of us could ever hope to be. Do they really need to add in tattoos when they hype her?"

"So don't listen to them."

We fall silent for a moment.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have said anything like that."

I can't help but smile. I know I should be a little p.i.s.sed off, but this is Gwen. She's so square that they check rulers against her to make sure they're straight.

"But you can't help but feel relieved to find out that 'cool' people-" I mark quotations in the air between us. "-have their problems, too."

"I know. I'm an awful friend, aren't I?"

I shake my head. "No, you're just being honest. We've earned the right to that between us." I wait a beat, then add, "So you think Bill's cheating on you, too. Maybe with some little tattooed Goth girl?"

"Oh, G.o.d, no. I just find it weird that that kind of thing could turn him on."

"Did you ask him about it?"

She shook her head. "In a vague sort of way. But he thought I was accusing him of l.u.s.ting after you."

"And you didn't correct him?"

"No. Because then he'd know I was poking through his browser history. Oh, come on," she adds at the look on my face. "Everybody does that. Don't tell me you never have."

"I never have," I say. "And even if Edric wasn't a complete Luddite and actually used our computer, I still wouldn't."

"He doesn't use a computer?"

"He doesn't like any kind of modern technology. I got him a cell phone, but while he carries it around, he doesn't even have it turned on. When I asked him why he kept it, he said he thought of it as a talisman to remind him of me."

"That's...different."

"No, that's just Edric."

"So what are you going to do about him?"

I shrug. "What else can I do? The next full moon, I should follow him to whatever gig he's supposed to have."

"Or you could just ask him," Gwen says.

"Right."

"You seem to think I should have done that with Bill."

"This is different."