(no subject)
Lois Tilton reviews "Journal of Unlikely Architecture", in which my story "Go THrough" appears. She's notoriously hard to please, but she has slapped a "recommended" on this one - here's what she has to say in her intro, and about my story in particular:
"The Journal of Unlikely Entomology has mutated into a more general form encompassing different subjects: this one is titled The Journal of Unlikely Architecture. I have to applaud the decision. The last couple of issues of the bugzine were getting pretty stale, but this new incarnation is fresh and crisp, surreal and weird, highly unlikely indeed.
“Go Through” by Alma Alexander
A metaphor come to life: doors. This fiction is a vision, surreal and symbolic.
Doors that never allow me to pass them by, once I’ve seen them. Once seen, never unseen. Always there. A door ignored will return - again and again and again - until I reach for that key, for that handle, and crack it open. A door that should never have been in my path; a door without which my path would not exist.
There are alternating sections, first-person and third, but the difference is inconsequential since we don’t really know who “I” is, or whether it’s the same “I” every time, or whether “she” is the same as “I” or someone else, but in effect they all are “you” or everyone who might read this, as the message is universal: this is life."
Read the rest at the site - but as far as I'm concerned, it's a win... :)
"The Journal of Unlikely Entomology has mutated into a more general form encompassing different subjects: this one is titled The Journal of Unlikely Architecture. I have to applaud the decision. The last couple of issues of the bugzine were getting pretty stale, but this new incarnation is fresh and crisp, surreal and weird, highly unlikely indeed.
“Go Through” by Alma Alexander
A metaphor come to life: doors. This fiction is a vision, surreal and symbolic.
Doors that never allow me to pass them by, once I’ve seen them. Once seen, never unseen. Always there. A door ignored will return - again and again and again - until I reach for that key, for that handle, and crack it open. A door that should never have been in my path; a door without which my path would not exist.
There are alternating sections, first-person and third, but the difference is inconsequential since we don’t really know who “I” is, or whether it’s the same “I” every time, or whether “she” is the same as “I” or someone else, but in effect they all are “you” or everyone who might read this, as the message is universal: this is life."
Read the rest at the site - but as far as I'm concerned, it's a win... :)