So, my lovely husband thinks I should begin a blog, entirely separate from my other social media outlets, for the purposes of talking about my Opinions, of which I have many. Most of the subtext I'm mad about is gender-related, though being mad about just about everything is pretty solidly in my wheelhouse.
I'm reading Genevieve Valentine's Mechanique: a Tale of the Circus Tresaulti. I thought her story in the vampire anthology Teeth was brilliant, I saw her books at Readercon and got this one from the library. Now I've surfed on over to her website and see there are a lot of shorts available online, which I'll have to go through. (Occasionally my completist urges lead me down rabbit holes.)
It's a post-apocalyptic steampunk circus. It's not too far away from the aesthetic of Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band. There are aerialists with hollow copper bones, and strongmen with mechanical arms. The pivotal image is of a pair of wings, made out of gears and bone. It's all about love, or maybe hate, or loyalty.
It's a story that it's easy to see the bones of (which is neither good nor bad). The parenthetical asides, the building up of one particular character to fill a function to move the plot along, where the war fits into the world and into the story.
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