Hello everyone, it’s been a while and what a time we’re living in.
If, like me, you’re looking for distractions from our current situation, then I have a recommendation for you đ
I was so pleased to be selected to be part of the blog tour for Velocities by Kathe Koja. I love sci-fi but I feel that for me, the writing that I enjoy crosses those roads of sci-fi, horror, fantasy and speculative fiction. It’s all interconnected to me and that’s certainly the type of fiction that I write myself.
“Velocities” is an awesome collection of stories, some of them are like a steel trap, drawing you in until you realise that you’ve been reading something quite different from what you thought you were. Here we have tales of a man seeking healing, an artist haunted by a house, a future where everyone is under surveillance and many more. Those are poor descriptions of those stories really because I don’t want to spoil them. And then there’s my current fave – “Baby”. This is the type of story that slips into your brain and keeps you awake at night. That’s what happened to me anyway. It was so creepy. It’s now one of those tales that I can’t stop thinking about, I’m just fascinated with it.
Here’s an extract:
From BABY by Kathe Koja
“Itâs hot in here, and the air smells sweet, all sweet and burned, like incense. I love incense, but I can never have any; my allergies, right? Allergic to incense, to cigarette smoke, to weed smoke, to smoke in general, the smoke from the grill at Robâs Ribs, too, so goodbye to that, and no loss either, I hate this job. The butcherâs aprons are like circus tents, like 3X, and those pointy paper hats we have to wearââSmokinâ Specialist,â god. They look like big white dunce caps, even Rico looks stupid wearing one and Rico is hot. Iâve never seen anyone as hot as he is.
The only good thing about working hereâbesides Ricoâis hanging out after shift, up on the rooftop while Rob and whoever swabs out the patio, and everyone jokes and flirts, and, if Rob isnât paying too much attention, me and Rico shotgun a couple of cans of Tecate or something. Then I lean as far over the railing as I can, my hands gripping tight, the metal pressing cold through my shirt; sometimes I let my feet leave the patio, just a few inches, just balancing there on the railing, in thin air . . . Andy always flips when I do it, heâs all like Oh Jani donât do that Jani you could really hurt yourself! You could fall!
Oh Andy, I always say; Andyâs like a mom or something. Calm down, itâs only gravity, only six floors up but still, if you fell, youâd be a plate of Robâs Tuesday night special, all bones and red sauce; smush, gross, right? But I love doing it. You can feel the wind rush up between the buildings like invisible water, stealing your breath, filling you right up to the top. Itâs so weird, and so choice . . . Like the feeling I always got from you, Baby.
Itâs kind of funny that I never called you anything else, just Baby; funny that I even found you, up there in Grammyâs storage space, or crawl space, or whatever itâs called when itâs not really an attic, but itâs just big enough to stand up in. Boxes were piled up everywhere, but mostly all Iâd found were old china cup-and-saucer sets, and a bunch of games with missing piecesâStratego, and Monopoly, and Clue; I already had Clue at home; I used to totally love Clue, even though I cheated when I played, sometimes. Well, all the time. I wanted to win. There were boxes and boxes of Grampyâs old books, doctor books; one was called Surgical Procedures and Facial Deformities and believe me, you did not want to look at that. I flipped it open on one picture where this guyâs mouth was all grown sideways, and his eyesâhis eyeâ Anyway. After that I stayed away from the boxes of books.
And then I found you, Baby, stuffed down in a big box of clothes, chiffon scarves and unraveling lace, the cut-down skirts of fancy dresses, and old shirts like Army uniforms, with steel buttons and appliquĂ©s. At the bottom of the box were all kinds of shoes, spike heels, and a couple of satin evening bags with broken clasps. At first I thought you were a kind of purse, too, or a bag, all small and yellow and leathery. But then I turned you over, and I saw that you had a face.”
This is a brilliant collection and if you’re a fan of weird fiction you really should add it to your reading list. And Jeff Vandermeer’s blurb is on the cover! Need I say more?!
This is the prefect time to treat yourself to some strange tales.
Meerkat Press supplied me with a digital arc of the book in return for an honest review.
Contains Amazon affiliate links which help support this site.
 in return for an honest review.
 I was wary of all the hype surrounding it. It couldnât be THAT good, could it? When I eventually picked it up I was swept away by the twists and turns and unanswered questions of the book. It was an action packed reading experience. Today I can easily say âGiant Robots! Whatâs not to like?â
 takes place ten years later when an even bigger robot materialises in London with devastating consequences. Dr Rose Franklin is still coming to terms with the events of the previous novel and the mysterious unnamed interviewer is still there asking questions. Soon more robots arriveâŠ
