Showing posts with label Anya Johanna DeNiro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anya Johanna DeNiro. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 7, 2021

The 2020 Otherwise Award and Honor List

(Extracted from Alexis Lothian's post at https://otherwiseaward.org/news)

Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki has won the 2020 Otherwise Award for “Ife-Iyoku, the Tale of Imadeyunuagbon” (in Dominion: An Anthology of Speculative Fiction from Africa and the African Diaspora, edited by Zelda Knight and Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki, Aurelia Leo, 2020). 

2020 Otherwise Award winner Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki, “Ife-Iyoku, the Tale of Imadeyunuagbon”

The 2020 jury comprised Chesya Burke, M.L. Clarke, Liz Henry (chair), Annalee Newitz, and Tochi Onyebuchi.

A virtual award ceremony will be held on Saturday, October 30, 2021, at 3pm EST. For details on how to join, please check the website for A Room of One’s Own Bookstore, which is hosting the event.

This year’s winner, “Ife-Iyoku, the Tale of Imadeyunuagbon” by Oghenechovwe Donald Ekpeki, was a unanimous favorite in a rich field of literary explorations around gender, sex, and related societal roles. We are delighted to present Ekpeki’s tale, a novella first published in Dominion: An Anthology of Speculative Fiction from Africa and the African Diaspora (Aurelia Leo), as this year’s recipient of the Otherwise Award.

In the winning story and the Honor List, several overlapping themes stood out. Like “Ife-Iyoku,” many of the Honor List stories treat gender in the context of intersectionality—we see how racialized, national, and ethnic identity, as well as disability, affect gendered experience. Several stories grapple with the fact that trans men, trans women, nonbinary people, and other embodied entities walk different paths than cisgender people, and that affects how they experience the world as gendered beings.

A number of stories  deal with queer elders, including City of a Thousand Feelings, The Seep, and The Four Profound Weaves. Though science fiction and fantasy have a long tradition of celebrating wise elders, whether they are high-level wizards or ancient AIs, it is rare to see them explored in a queer context. These stories demand we acknowledge that one doesn’t stop growing, healing, hurting, or being lost and in need of re-forging community and place with age. They also describe ways that queer elders provide models to the young, how they may fall short, and how younger generations engage with them, while also celebrating the different ways each generation expresses themselves.

Given the events of the past several years, perhaps it is no surprise that exile was a theme that came up in these stories over and over: in “Ife-Iyoku,” “The Moon Room,” Depart, Depart!, The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea, City of a Thousand Feelings, and Four Profound Weaves, we meet characters who have been cast out of their homelands and are searching for a way back. As they struggle with their sense of dislocation, our heroes and antiheroes must find a way to construct new kinds of home, with their chosen communities. Often, this sense of exile is compounded by environmental destruction associated with climate change—another theme in many of these stories, which grapple with the multi-generational legacy of industrial production and agricultural waste.

The environment isn’t just a force “out there”—it affects our bodies, both physical and political, as well as our social roles. In these stories, we can feel those effects. We meet people who can wring rain out of the air, build floating cities, transform themselves into clouds of gas, merge with machines, and transcend the world altogether. We feel the heat and moisture and sickness that come with a carbon cycle that is perturbed beyond all measure. Our identities do not end where our skin meets the air, but instead are part of ecosystems. And when those ecosystems are under attack, so are we.

Many of the Otherwise honorees grapple with this idea by showing us how our bodies are permeable to the environment. This is especially apparent when it comes to the mechanized bodies of the characters in “Helicopter Story” and “Custom Options Available.” Here we see characters whose gendered bodies have been rebuilt to function as weapons, or hyper-productive workers—a literalization of the ways that patriarchy and capitalism demand that we refashion ourselves as things-to-be-used rather than people.

The Otherwise Award honors stories that expose the many ways we experience gender in this world and others. This year we were thrilled to see so many brilliant authors taking a nuanced, complex approach to the topic—giving us characters we will never forget, in worlds as alien as our own.

The jury for the 2020 Otherwise Award wishes to thank readers and writers alike for their deep engagement with works that explore and expand our concepts of gender.

Winner: 2020 Otherwise Award

​​In a year crowded with stellar work that interrogated, celebrated, and contextualized gender in the way that only speculative fiction can, “Ife-Iyoku, the Tale of Imadeyunuagbon” stood out. Not only did it distinguish itself with the thematic concerns in which it engaged but also through the cohesion with which the story’s concerns were handled. This story situated discussion and depictions of gender, attendant expectations, constrictions, and transcendence in a situation and cultural and religious schema still vanishingly rare in the genre, and remained an entertaining and emotionally scopic story in the process.

What could have easily slipped into a stereotypical depiction and affirmation of patriarchal norms among the pre- or post-colonial African societies presents itself instead as the struggle of a community in the context of colonialism and colonization, a context that pits the impetus for communal survival against the dictate toward individuality. What does it look like to have gender roles enlisted in the pursuit of a community’s survival against larger, aggressive, unreasoning entities? How does the threat of annihilation further entrench that social schema? In the context of the story, childbearing isn’t a mandated duty because those identified by the community as women are too weak for combat but because childbearing is the only vehicle of the community’s continued existence. Such a distinction read to us, the jury, as a lived principle among the characters rather than mere scaffolding for oppressive policies, and the skill to which this dynamic was pulled off in the story impressed us greatly.

We loved the story’s critique of the idea that an extremely special, powerful place can ever be magically protected from the ravages of colonialism. Here, Ekpeki is careful to show us the downside of living inside this protected shell: the village is still operating as a monarchy, where women’s views are marginalized, and this leads directly to repeating the very scenario that made many African civilizations vulnerable to the incursions of European slavers. As the story unfolds, we realize that it is impossible for any community to remain isolated from imperialism, even if they have superpowers. And this makes the story a more powerful allegory—as well as a more truthful account of how power works.

A story that contains everything that “Ife-Iyoku” contains could easily have burst at the seams, but one of this work’s most stunning and impressive qualities is its cohesion. In the exciting cinematic opening, a team of psychically gifted hunters battles a mutant, winged, lava-breathing dinosaur. Over the next few chapters, the complex web of the community, its history, its divisions, and its context in the world are revealed, leading us to a situation that shows the disruptive power of a single woman’s choices, and her insistence on self-determination. In addition to presenting a dramatic and three-dimensional discourse on gender, community, and sacrifice, the story also gives us an inversion of a creation myth wherein the gendered nature of such tales is treated in a grounded and nuanced manner. Not once did it feel like the story’s many themes and aspects existed in isolation. That the story, as much as it holds within it, reads as a seamless piece is a testament to the craft on display.

“Ife-Iyoku” is a work of daring moral imagination as well as a story expertly constructed. What makes this story’s achievement even more spectacular is that it hardly emerged as the lone blossom in an otherwise fallow field of storytelling on gendered themes. Rather, this year’s winner stood out for the jury in a bumper crop of thought-provoking and challenging speculative fictions. For this reason, we are delighted to share the following Honor List, of eight other 2020 tales that significantly advanced our genre’s explorations of gender, sex, and societal roles, in unranked order but with the deepest of congratulations to all.

Honor List: 2020 Otherwise Award

2020 Otherwise Award Honor List
R.B. Lemberg, The Four Profound Weaves (Tachyon Publications, novella)
R.B. Lemberg’s The Four Profound Weaves explores the intertwined lives of genderfluid and trans elders who live in a world that hovers between dreams and ancient history. It centers on a nameless man, exiled from his home for moving between genders. He’s on a quest to find an old friend, Benesret, who has the power to weave textiles that embody the four “profound” human experiences of hope, change, wanderlust, and death. Haunting and delightful by turns, the story explores a world of nomads and city-states, magic and art, youth and age, and ultimately what it means to remain friends even as the world and our identities shift like desert sands.
 
Anya Johanna DeNiro, City of a Thousand Feelings (Aqueduct Press, novella)
In a swooping poetic allegory, Anya Johanna DeNiro’s City of a Thousand Feelings takes us with trans exiles into battle as they try to enter a city of dreams and wonders, only to be turned away by militant patriarchal villains. Relationships form under pressure, lapse, and are taken up again years later, as the protagonists hide in exile or continue to fight in wars. Finally, new generations are born with new goals, creating their own amazing city, built on the work of the elders who fought so hard to make a world where that was possible. Deeply moving.
 
Maggie Tokuda-Hall, The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea (Candlewick Press, novel)
Maggie Tokuda-Hall’s The Mermaid, the Witch, and the Sea is an exciting, complex story about a young nonbinary pirate and an aristocratic young woman figuring out who they are in the face of danger. Unable to return to their homelands, pursued by nasty colonizers, they form an alliance that grows into a fierce and wonderful romance. We can’t wait to return to the world of The Mermaid to learn more about these delightful characters, their cool magic system, and the ways they might start to resist a tyrannical empire!
 
Sim Kern, Depart, Depart! (Stelliform Press, novel)
Depart, Depart! follows Noah, whose escape from climate disaster in Houston to a refugee camp further north is complicated by more specific needs for safety and key resources as a young trans man. Luckily, he has a ghostly ancestor for an ally, and a wealth of ethno-familial history to lean on as he navigates his distinct instant of a struggle for a sense of home, belonging, and acceptance that stretches back eons.
 
Chana Porter, The Seep (Soho Press, novel)
The Seep, set in San Francisco in homage to Starhawk’s The Fifth Sacred Thing, takes a somewhat bitter, leather-jacket-wearing butch dyke protagonist into a post-singularity future where alien nanobots ingested as a drug make almost everyone super happy. Her search for meaning and connection takes place within a community indifferently giving up specific embodied histories, to become whoever and whatever they wish with seemingly no adverse consequences, while she questions whether identity can have meaning without its histories.
 
Isabel Fall, “Helicopter Story” (Clarkesworld Magazine, short story)
Isabel Fall’s “Helicopter Story” created an intense and divisive reaction. For the jury, this is a story that extols the triumphant gender/sex-messiness of the protagonist’s transition into a military weapon, exposes the ways that the military industrial complex can co-opt some of our deepest human social structures to weave our identity construction into components of a bigger machine, a military force. With beauty, depth, and sensitivity, Fall describes Barb’s gendered precision, feelings, fierceness, and relationships built on the trust developed in battle. It is a love story in the mil-sf tradition, one where its heroes, whose identities are tied to war, begin to question the ethics behind that war.
 
Amy Griswold, “Custom Options Available” (Fireside Magazine, short story)
Another story that explores mechanization and gender-modelling is Amy Griswold’s “Custom Options Available,” a joyous romp in which a retired mining robot chooses gender and sexuality configurations, then cruises for partners. The protagonist then starts to uncover feelings and preferences that they didn’t choose, including a fierce desire for freedom and self-determination.
 
Maria Romasco Moore, “The Moon Room” (Kaleidotrope, short story)
Maria Romasco Moore’s “The Moon Room” brings us into a glittering, but gritty, urban world of drag bars and clandestine identities as seen through the eyes of an alien. Trained from a young age to hide her true nature, she takes photographs of drag queens and revels in their ability to be seen—while the pressures of hiding her polymorphous body drives her to drink and blackouts. Luckily, queer joy saves her from a life of hiding—and she’s finally able to come out as the beauty she is.

Thursday, December 17, 2020

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2020, pt. 14: Anya Johanna DeNiro


 

 

The Pleasures of Reading in 2020
by Anya Johanna DeNiro

This has obviously been a hard year from a variety of perspectives, and reading has been a constant companion—for comfort, for clarity, for a way to put my own anger and sadness into the shape of someone else’s story. Luckily, there were many books and stories this year that shone, particularly with marginalized voices. May 2021 shine just as brightly. 


 

My favorite novel I’ve read this year has been, without a doubt, Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. From others who have read this novel, it should be no surprise. A rich, resplendent take on high fantasy with fantastic worldbuilding with plenty of intriguing queer characters, with plenty of heartfelt declarations and acts of courage. It is precisely the type of “big” fantasy we need right now—discarding all the b.s., retrograde tropes that don’t work and refining the ones that do. 

The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson is also a particular favorite. This novel posits a version of the multiverse in which travel to parallel worlds is commoditized and exploitative. Besides being a fierce portrayal of a world jumper who is trying to survive in an unforgiving set of worlds, it’s also a moving exploration of privilege and imposter syndrome. And with a bisexual protagonist to boot. 


 

Failed State by Christopher Brown is the third of an astoundingly plausible trilogy of novels chronicling the United States’ move towards a kind of decentralized fascism. But Failed State is also definitely the most hopeful of the three; not just showing this nation’s dissolution, but what might actually take its place with an emphasis on shared struggle and ecology. 


With poetry, my biggest pleasure this year has been Wicked Enchantment, the beautifully produced selected poems by Wanda Coleman, released by her longtime publisher Black Sparrow. It’s these poems that I’ve been turning to most this year—there is truly no one else that quite has her voice, and her interplay between the formal and informal in her sonnets is a live wire. 

And for nonfiction, although it’s certainly not a new book, might I recommend Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917-1922, by Russian poet Marina Tsvetaeva. I purchased this the weekend the movement toward “stay at home” really began in mid-March, and it was an apt read for the surreality and low-baud terror of that time. Tsvetaeva was a complicated figure in Russian letters with a brutal, tragic end to her life, but here her journals have a swift, brutal and yes novelistic impact as she describes the tumult of the Russian Civil War in wonderfully written sketches that nevertheless pull no punches. 

 

  Anya Johanna DeNiro was born in Erie, Pennsylvania. She received a BA in English from the College of Wooster and an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Virginia. She's also a 1998 graduate of the Clarion Workshop. Her short fiction has appeared widely, in venues such as Asimov's, Strange Horizons, One Story, Interfictions,Catapult, and Shimmer. She's the author of two collection of short stories, both published by Small Beer Press, Skinny Dipping in the Lake of the Dead (2006) and Tyrannia (2013); and a novel, Total Oblivion, More or Less (2009) (as Alan DeNiro). She's also been shortlisted for the O.Henry Award, and a finalist for the Crawford Award and Theodore Sturgeon Award. Aqueduct Press released City of a Thousand Feelings earlier this year.

Friday, January 31, 2020

Anya Johanna DeNiro's City of a Thousand Feelings



I'm pleased to announce the release of City of a Thousand Feelings by Anya Johanna DeNiro, the seventy-second volume in Aqueduct's Conversation Pieces series, in both print and e-book editions. The book can be purchased now at www.aqueductpress.com.


The City of a Thousand Feelings doesn't let certain people inside its walls. It's a place where emotions can become visible, but it flees the approach of a makeshift army who want to enter. Two of the trans women in this army forge a deep, complicated, and at times contentious friendship spanning thirty years. They must come to terms with not only the City's literal and figurative gatekeeping, but also other, even more sinister forces that use necromancy against them. As the narrator and her friend's lives are sundered apart, they must come to terms with what it means to not have a home, and what it means to be queer and aching for such a home. A sword and sorcery tale with emotional resonance, City of a Thousand Feelings brims with both the visceral and the allegorical, allowing the two trans women at the center of the story to claim their own space.


Advance Praise

“Anya DeNiro’s City of a Thousand Feelings is a huge fantasy epic with a deeply intimate relationship story at its heart. I love these heroic trans characters and their struggle to find, or build, a better world. This story left me with a renewed faith in our collective ability to make it through the wilderness and the assaults of undead angels, and to create better families as we do so.
 —Charlie Jane Anders, author of All the Birds in the Sky

 

Reviews

Surreal and lyrical, if opaque, this profound fantasy from DeNiro (Tyrannia) explores the struggle for acceptance. An unnamed trans woman narrator meets the fellow trans woman to whom the book is addressed, whose name changes over the course of the novel from Melody to Mystery to Mercy, when they both join a ragtag army of exiled women intent on storming the city that excluded them. The army falls and 15 years of loneliness pass before the two women reunite. Together they decide to sneak back into the city to steal the city’s blueprints and use them to build a new, inclusive home of their own. While the setting is successfully atmospheric, readers learn little about the characters. DeNiro’s imagistic style leads to moments of beauty in lines such as “My heart is a flock of swallows blown out of a barn by a gale,” but can also make it difficult to parse whether fantastical elements are meant to be read metaphorically. While some readers will struggle for a foothold in this strange, cerebral story, others will be gratified by the poetic writing and powerful themes of belonging.
  —Publishers Weekly, November 2019

DeNiro packs an entire epic fantasy into this very short book from Aqueduct Press, and it is a testament to what a skilled writer can do with a hybrid form.
  —Buzzfeed, Wendy J. Fox,  January 2020

Monday, December 23, 2019

The Pleasures of Reading, Viewing, and Listening in 2019, pt. 17: Anya Johanna DeNiro

2019 Pleasures
by Anya Johanna DeNiro





2019 was a wonderful year of reading (and watching). Here are some of my favorites. I tried to hew here closely to the last year or so, which is no easy feat for me!

Rule of Capture by Christopher Brown. This novel combines the jugular-cutting dystopian worldbuilding of Brown’s previous novel, Tropic of Kansas, wth the tropes and structures of a legal thriller. What makes this work—and so unsettling—is how readily extrapolated this world building is with our current moment. It’s fascinating to surmise how a lawyer would work in a legal broken system with court censors and denaturalization procedures, but also? It rarely lets us forget how we also are in a broken system; ours is perhaps more teetering than fully broken, but for the most vulnerable members of society, it is definitely too fine of a distinction. And yet there is hope there as well, with the emphasis on self-sustaining communities unwittingly given space to live outside the margins of this fascist American state, providing green shoots in the bleak narrative.

City in the Middle of the Night by Charlie Jane Anders. A remarkable novel about an extraplanetary colony and the unraveling of its colonial past, City in the Middle of the Night provides a swirling, complex array of characters in far reaching cities in a deeply inhospitable landscape. With a major upheaval right at the get-go, the pace rarely lets up, but it would be far less satisfying without its unwavering commitment to explore the characters’ desires and anguish. Finally, the depiction of the alien life on this planet—and the potentially complicated symbiosis with human interlopers—reminded me of the best of the Octavia Butler.

Armored Saint by Myke Cole. Heloise is one of the most fascinating characters that I’ve come across lately. It’s essentially a mecha story that takes a long, long while to get off the ground (luckily, the book is the first in a series)—but what an amazing ascent! This is truly a “demon haunted world”: deeply repressive and theocratic, and what Cole shows so adroitly is that Heloise is a product of this world, even as she strains to battle against its constraints. Yet she is only barely beginning to figure out an escape plan to truly liberate herself and those she cares about. Even these tentative first steps cost her dearly.

Alien Virus Love Disaster by Abbey Mei Otis. In this case, the title tells it all. This collection is like a riptide of stories with desperate characters, told in an extremely assured voice. In a way the different genre tropes are employed to create these soap bubbles which the characters inhabit. And occasionally everything pops aka goes to hell. Every story is searingly told and creates its narrative like an absolute necessity.

Winter by Ali Smith. Part of Ali Smith’s ongoing seasonal quartet of novels, this brisk tale is a post-Brexit little masterpiece. Told in Smith’s usual lilting but biting style, it’s an appropriate novel for an uncertain age—but also provides a large dose of hope and humor, as well as a fascinating look back at the anti-nuclear protests in Great Britain in the 80s.


Frankenstein in Baghdad by Ahmed Saadawi. Unbelievably haunting, this novel takes the “modern Prometheus” into the war torn streets of Baghdad, with a mix of different perspectives weaving together. American military contractors certainly perform their own dark necromancy here—but at its heart the story is one of a mother’s love for her son, in the middle of strife and diaspora.

Television and Film

The Boys. I was thoroughly prepared to thoroughly dislike this, but I was pleasantly surprised. Yes, the gore is at times gratuitous, but we live in an excessive age, and the superhero as villain trope has rarely been explored so potently.

Midsommar. Endlessly inventive with its visuals, Midsommar depicts summer solstice as a horrorscape in the far north of Sweden. But it would not work nearly as well as it does if not for the powerful meditation it became on grief. How do we grieve? And what happens when catharsis becomes its own form of horror? Also I will be fascinated to watch the extended version and to sink into this world a little more.

Fleabag. Speaking of grief, while Midsommar plays as a tragedy, Fleabag is the other side of the coin with an at-times melancholic comedy. The titular Fleabag is constantly giving asides to the camera, which could be cloying if the writing and actors weren’t so brilliant, but when the penny drops as to why she is doing this, it colors all of the past action and shows the throughline (about her best friend) which had always been there.


  Anya Johanna DeNiro was born in Erie, Pennsylvania. She received a BA in English from the College of Wooster and an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Virginia. She's also a 1998 graduate of the Clarion Workshop. Her short fiction has appeared widely, in venues such as Asimov's, Strange Horizons, One Story, Interfictions,Catapult, and Shimmer. She's the author of two collection of short stories, both published by Small Beer Press, Skinny Dipping in the Lake of the Dead (2006) and Tyrannia (2013); and a novel, Total Oblivion, More or Less (2009) (as Alan DeNiro). She's also been shortlisted for the O.Henry Award, and a finalist for the Crawford Award and Theodore Sturgeon Award. Aqueduct Press will be releasing City of a Thousand Feelings in February.