Being a chronicle of the voyages through the realm of the fantastic, recording a summary of the journey through perilous islands to bohemian cities.
Image © Calie Voorhis
As we take a brief tavern break, a welcome respite from the wilderness of words, let’s take a moment to reflect upon our journey through the year. This month marks the second year of our arduous, exciting trek through the map.
In November, we started this year out with a look at one of the feminist founders of speculative fiction, the esteemed H.G. Wells, creator of the dread Island of Dr. Moreau and would-be utopian idealist. He tried, he really did try, Bless His Heart.
December took us to the remote location of Frankenstein’s Castle as we visited the grand dame of speculative fiction, Mary Wollstonecraft (née Godwin) Shelley, keeper of her husband’s charred heart in a box, mother to Frankenstein’s monster, and original goth.
Exhausted, perhaps by our perilous hike through the free-love Swiss wilderness of Shelley, January saw us huddled down in a blizzard. (We took a month off to rest and recuperate.)
The Mountain of Menopause and Mount Hot Flashes were our next ascension — a journey of terrible dread that no shrinking violet could undertake. No, these mountains required more experienced guides, so we turned to Barbara Hambly and R.A. MacAvoy and visited with their defiantly middle-aged heroines as we entered the realm of second-wave feminism in February.
In March, we left the earth all together, venturing into the abyss of space, in a far corner of the map – the planet Cyteen and its orbital Downbelow Station, with its female commanders, matriarchal hives, and pregnant soldiers, and correctly learned how to pronounce Cherryh. Hint, the “h” is silent.
From the lofty heights of interstellar travel, we returned to Earth, this time to make our way through the Valley of Menstruation, led by the delightfully frank Tamora Pierce, another second-wave feminist who is never afraid to tell things like they are, and who has always refused to gloss over the realities of female biology in all its messy glory.
After a delightful adventure in the countryside, we turned our attention to something distinctly more urban — and visited Samuel R. Delaney’s Bellona in Dahlgren for a sex-fueled romp, much akin to Carrie Bradshaw’s quest of sexual discovery in New York City.
In June, we continued our inland travel with a visit to the magical city of….Minneapolis, as we visited one of the first novels of Urban Fantasy, War for the Oaks, and frolicked with a handsome Phouka.
We rounded up this second year’s sojourn in one of my favorite cities, Newford, where we met some guys who excel at being both sexy and feminist, thanks to the wonderful words of Charles de Lint.
Where would you like us to go in the coming year? I’m totally open to random pub stops, comfortable inns, and I love spectacular scenery.
Coming up next — off to St. Louis, MO, for some more vampires as I take on part III of the genesis of Urban Fantasy. Or should I say, the genesis of Paranormal Romance?
“It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.” — Ursula K. LeGuin, The Left Hand of Darkness
Loving this map!