Speculiction's Best Fiction Published in 2022

It is the end of 2022, and time to look back at the fiction published in the year. War has come to Ukraine, unfortunately, but the market today shows only minimal signs of slowing. I imagine as we get into a recession next year we will see the impact, likely a reduction in the number of books published. Wokeness continues to stamp like a buffalo through Western life and speculative fiction, but there are signs it has reached its peak. This mainly comes in the form of ubiquity; if one sees its signals everywhere, it means the movement has shifted from sub-culture to culture, and the only place to go from there is the past—like the mullet. The recession hopefully (should?) also do its part to refocus readers and publishers on reality.  I suspect we will still see the woke content which is in production today released next year, but as the year goes on it should drop off as publishers today realize it just doesn't sell on the mass market. 

But I ramble about the future.  As to 2022, I read a number of recommendable books. My gut gives the year the highly official title of: better than average. But before getting to the blue ribbons, some honorable mentions. 

The ever-unpredictable Adam Roberts provided readers the mini tongue twister The This. It addresses society in a world where the thumbs are replaced by the brain as the main technological channel of commenting and communicating in social tech. With a bizarre alien war in the far future plopping in to shake things up the book does not give the appearance of being sophisticated, but look a level deeper and the social media ills of our age, predominantly loneliness, ring like a bell. Oliver Langmead's Glitterati, while incomplete in places, nevertheless deserves mention for being so damn unique—an almost impossible task in 2022 given the century+ of publishing and thousands upon thousands of speculative fiction books available. Not dependent on a gimmick, Langmead pilots a straightforward dystopia yet with atypical captain and crew. Fashionistas ruling the unfashionable, Langmead puts a trendsetter front and center, then puts him through the most oblique Ru Paul grinder the reader could imagine. Plot transitions are a bit patchy at times, but the touch and feel of this novel are unlike anything you've read. Marcel Theroux's The Sorcerer of Pyongyang may be the most accomplished novel I read in 2022. A character study of a boy raised in '90s North Korea, the discovery of a Dungeons & Dragons manual changes his life's course. Not a nerd's paradise of demons and wizards, Theroux instead uses the role-playing game as a counter-point to the fantasy of the North Korean regime, in turning telling an affecting, tragi-comic story that keeps the reader glued to the page with smooth, precise prose. This book will likely fly under a lot of people's radars, so if the premise sounds interesting, give it a chance.

What We Can Know about Thunderman by Alan Moore is another honorable mention. While it may seem niche given the manner in which it shoots down the superhero comic book industry with howitzers, it remains a cleverly biting bit of social commentary that may be of interest to culture hounds (and those not besotted by the onslaught of superheroes today). For a person best known for the visual medium of graphic novels, Moore's baroque style is highly readable for readers who enjoy a writer exploring synonyms. And the final honorable mention was a surprise to me: Jonathan Strahan's anthology of original science fiction: Tomorrow's Parties: Life in the Anthropocene. I've grown so accustomed to Strahan being woke (i.e. prioritizing politics over quality) that I've put him off my radar. But seeing the anthology was part of MIT's Twelve Tomorrow's series, I took a chance, and I'm glad I did. Not every story is a zinger (no anthology can be quality front to back; we readers are too subjective), but there is certainly enough quality to warrant mention here. The anthology essentially cyberpunk from a 2022 perspective, it covers predominantly dystopian/corporate views to the environment and society but in dynamic, mostly engaging fashion. Today's culture wars have minimal presence in the anthology, thankfully. (In a sad state of affairs, environmental degradation is still a more frightening dystopia than replete woke.)

And now to the best novel I read published in 2022: Mike Meginnis' Drowning Practice. Capturing a view of contemporary Western society rotated 17 degrees through a slipstream lens, it tells of a broken family in a world wherein every person one night has the same dream: the entire Earth will drown in six months. What makes the novel so powerful is the manner in which Meginnis digs at the increasingly isolated psychologies wandering our Western streets. At times a melancholy proceeding, the characters, while fully 3D in render, take patience and empathy to tease out the facets of humanity worth redemption that Meginnis leaves, Hansel and Gretel style, for the reader to pick up. Admittedly, Drowning Practice will not be to every speculative fiction reader's taste given how dark it can sometimes be, but if we are here to recognize the works of literature which spotlight relevant facets of the human condition, this is on point for 2022.

In terms of collections and anthologies, I feel a touch bad selecting one as “best of the year”. Each year I tell myself that I must read a minimum of five in order to select one, and this year I read exactly five. Not a large sample size. But after pondering, I think Sequoia Nagamatsu's How High We Go in the Dark is worth calling out. If it were music, it would be a concept album given the persistence of theme. A (non-COVID) pandemic prism, the book channels the film Whiplash (i.e. what we can achieve when brutally motivated) in post-apocalytpic, human fashion. Each story explores an individual's existence in the context of mass, global death. It includes rollercoaster euthanisia, talking pigs, a distraught researcher, AI advances, and a variety of other scenes. Not every story will entice, but the spectrum sticks, and is worth checking out. (If you have read this collection and consider it more of a concept novel, I understand. I'm only 51% confident it is a collection.)

And, as with every year, I must add a caveat of the books I had earmarked for reading but was unable to get to: Christopher Priest's Expect Me Tomorrow (his first book in literal decades which does begin with “The”), John Kessel's Dark Ride, Paul Di Filippo's Visionary Pageant, Elizabeth Hand's Hokuloa Road, and Cormac McCarthy's The Passenger.

And lastly, here is the full list of books I read published in 2022, best to worst:

Novels

5.0

N/A

4.5

Drowning Practice by Mike Meginnis – My novel of the year, for all the reasons mentioned above, there is little I can add except to say: while this story may not be for every reader, the manner in which the characters and their stories parallel the growing awkwardness of society in 2022 is what separates Literature from literature. A dark story, the psychologies of three relevant people are front and center without ever being dissected—a feat that.

4.0

The Sorcerer of Pyongyang by Marcel Theroux – As his father has many times before, Theroux produces a powerful character portrait. The life story of Cho Jun-su, it tells of his youth in a seaside village of North Korea, the accidental finding of a Dungeons & Dragons manual, and the subsequent effect it has on various facets of his life as he grow older. Theroux's prose is precise, perfect, and is used to keep the narrative flowing effortlessly through the tragi-comedic events of Jun-su's life in an authoritarian regime.

The This by Adam Roberts - The ever-unpredictable Adam Roberts provides readers a tasty morsel to chew on. While readers are eventually treated to a wacky alien war, Rich Rigby's life begins relatively normal, that is, until he chooses to install the technology in his body which shifts the manual input of social media to a mental function. Roberts channeling his inner Sheckley, he produces a deceptively intelligent novel worth a read for readers looking for something outside the mainstream.

The Anomaly by Herve Le Tellier – One of those novels which seems to unwind effortlessly (before you know it you're waist deep), it tells the stories of a handful of people whose lives are taken in a new direction by a strange anomaly that appears in the skies above the Atlantic Ocean one flight from Europe to the US. The anomaly simply a literary device, it's the people, their personalities, and reactions to the anomaly which form the substance of the novel (a la J.G. Ballard). Le Tellier's storytelling is direct and his characters come across as real, making for one of the best novels this year.

What We Can Know About Thunderman by Alan Moore – A baroque piss-take on the superhero comic book industry with the most uncanny and delightful attention to character detail, even readers who are not interested in comic books may enjoy this witty, satirical view toward the people who produce and consume masked men in spandex. (Note, this novel cannot be purchased separately, only as part of Moore's collection Illuminations.)

3.5

Glitterati by Oliver Langmead – There are likely no 2-3 words which could nutshell this novel. Fashion-punk—certainly not. Decadent dystopia, maybe. Bizarro world where fashionistas rule and the unfashionable languish in unbespoke hell, closer. It seems more than 2-3 words are needed... Glitterati tells the delightful story of one such fashionista, Simon, who gets himself stuck in a rivalry that goes far beyond the bounds of what is trendy—in his world. A lot of novels get the tag “unique”, but Glitterati has stolen that tag for me for the foreseeable future—exceptional considering how saturated and derivative the market is these days. Langmead's flow of story is janky at times, but you will love and loathe Simon, and be utterly fascinated by his existence.

Venomous Lumpsucker by Ned Beauman – A near-future science fiction thriller with a tongue or two in cheek, Venomous Lumpsucker is a sharp, sexy satire of protecting endangered species in a fully corporate world. It follows two people: a woman tasked with identifying animal sentience and a businessman who takes one risk too many with his company's compliance profile and must try to rectify things before it's too late. Pace nice and the prose a subtle delight, Beauman is a writer for fans of Nick Harkaway and David Mitchell.

The Mountain and the Sea by Ray Nayler – A tech-savvy world where corporations wield massive power, in The Mountain and the Sea one scientist is sent to a remote Vietnamese island to study odd behavior among octopuses. In the seas nearby a man is a slave worker aboard an AI-captained fishing vessel, while in Istanbul a hacker receives an intriguing and lucrative job. Nobody calls these types of books cyberpunk anymore, but that's what Nayler's The Mountain and the Sea is. With drone action, intriguing AI, corporate interest, and coded communication, it's a solid, enjoyable specimen.

3.0

Appleseed by Matt Bell – A work of cli-fi, Appleseed plays off the American legend of Johnny Appleseed by braiding three strands of story into a morale lesson that is both effective and overbearing. It tells of a near-future biologist working undercover to forestall environmental collapse, a far future faun (yes, faun) who pilots a rover through an ice world looking for signs of biological life, and a far-far future faun who is planting apple trees in the American landscape with his brother. The story's moral is legit. It's difficult to argue that humans bear responsibility caring for the environment to ensure future generations have a world to live in. It's Bell's execution and style, however, which never quite achieve the level of cohesion desired. An interesting read, but perhaps more than it needed to be. (The far-far future faun, for example, could have been a prologue/epilogue combo.) This is a book whose readers will likely already be in agreement with Bell, and thus for those who enjoy writers like Richard Powers.

Kingdoms of Death by Christopher Ruocchio – Fourth entry in the Sun Eater series, Ruocchio keeps the overarching story interesting by taking Marlowe to lands unknown and putting him on the anvil. Style is similar to the previous books and the pages turn just as easily, but I have a concern growing in my gut that Ruocchio is in danger of going George Martin's route of expanding a series where it may not need expansion. The next volume will confirm or deny that concern, but for now Marlow's story remains interesting.

The Second Sight of Zachary Cloudesley by Sean Lusk – Charles Dickens for the 21st century, Lusk tells the story of a young boy (Zachary, natch) growing up in Victorian England with special abilities: he is able to see a person's future after touching them. The motif is steampunk, but Lusk keeps the focus on the characters and Zachary's quest to find his lost father. Too light to be a character study yet with pretensions for more, Second Sight is an easy read that doesn't stick.

Daughter of Redwinter by Ed McDonald – While McDonald's prose is still sharper than most of his epic fantasy contemporaries, this opening novel of a new series lacks the singularity of his Raven's Mark trilogy. Closer to the mainstream of fantasy, Daughter is the story of Raine, her capture, and her quest to understand powers hidden within her as she gets to the bottom of a phantasmagoric mystery. Yeah, you've heard of that type of story before, and McDonald's take on it is just above average. Give her a sword and she embodies the cover of 3.2 million fantasy novels published in the past 5 years.

Queen of Clouds by Neil Williamson – Woodpunk I suppose (though Bruce Sterling did already take the piss out of that), Queen of Clouds tells of apprentice Billy Braid and his mission gone awry to deliver a sylvan automaton. Caught up in a kingdom's court battles, Braid has a proper adventure, from Earth to the clouds, conspiracies to courtship. If Williamson had honed this visage to razor sharpness, including the excision of a quarter of the content, this novel would be higher on the list. As it stands it just barely gets its nose above average.

Age of Ash by Daniel Abraham – Another novel that only barely pokes its head above the market, Age of Ash tells of two young women who must use their brains to find their way in a violent world. Abraham's story evocative of Lankhmar, readers who enjoy Fritz Leiber's Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser may enjoy this modern take on a city whose dark, fantastical secrets are waiting to be discovered. The quality of characterization is the nose which pokes Abraham's book above the market, the rest is relatively straight-forward.

2.5

All the Seas of the World by Guy Gavriel Kay – For a lot of readers this novel will be worth more than a 2.5. Kay's prose is eloquent and flowing and the plot encapsulates the essence of 'drama'. It's the persistent soft romance tone that turns me off, not to mention the persistent usage of certain phrases to evoke epic-ness. How was she to know that her actions that night would lead one day to... The premise of the story is interesting (Aegean spies and murder), as are the opening scenes (a well laid out assassination), but as time goes on Kay's style starts to wear thin, just straggling across the finish line for this reader.

Engines of Empire by R.S. Ford – When the mediocrity and saturation of the epic fantasy market is discussed, Ford's Engines of Empire is the poster child. Ford's prose is technically sound, but boring, uninspired. Where details of his world could be imagined and used in exposition and dialogue to provide some soul, generalities are installed instead. Moreover, the movement of the pieces is paint by number, shifting in visibly choreographed fashion, which likewise adds no soul. For people who love “magic systems” Ford has provided something video game-ish, but you need more than that to be quality fiction. This is for fans of Brandon Sanderson.

2.0

Black Friday 2050 by Joshua Krook – Black Friday 2050 is the only book I read in 2002 that is actively below average, i.e. net negative. It doesn't know what it wants to be. In theory a near-future dystopia wherein corporations peddle pleasure for profit, one would think that consumerism and buyer's bliss would be the main sources given the novel's title, yes? No, there are other sources. Secondly, Krook angles the style and setting to be semi-Orwellian, at least at the beginning. The latter half is run-of-the-mill thriller, ending on a cheap twist that deconstructs the integrity of the dystopia. Krook can put one word after another in engaging enough fashion, but aligning intention with cohesion is out of the book's reach.

Anthologies/Collections

4.0

How High We Go in the Dark by Sequoia Nagamatsu – A collection of short stories told around a central event, How High We Go in the Dark is comprised of +/-fifteen stories of people who are affected, directly and indirectly, by a deadly disease that is unleashed upon all of Earth after scientists unearth human remains in the Arctic. Something akin to the movie Whiplash but in faceted form, How High We Go in the Dark showcases the myriad ways humanity achieves something when squeezed terribly. The title may suggest optimism, but the majority of Nagamatsu's visions are beyond good/evil, i.e. human.

Illuminations: Stories by Alan Moore – While better known for graphic novels, in Illuminations Moore showcases his first collection of short fiction. Written in a baroque hand that loathes repetition of words and phrases, Moore shows a diversity of voice and setting—a biting satire threatening to tear the heart from several of the stories. Deconstructions of Christianity, superhero comics, AI, and academia among the selections, Moore's wit is on full display, even as some of the pieces are more vignette than story.

3.5

Tomorrow's Parties: Life in the Anthropocene ed. by Jonathan Strahan – This anthology of originals is one of the biggest surprises of 2022. In recent years Strahan has strayed away from science fiction toward woke science fiction, a straying which put me off the editor. Seeing the anthology was linked to MIT's series Twelve Tomorrows, I took a chance and was rewarded. There are only a couple of stories that failed to stick. On the whole, each is an individualistic look at life in the near-future. While that pronouncement is vague, the stories are not, with most being a singular, defined vision. Not every story in an anthology of new material can be to a reader's pure enjoyment, but here the quality is sustained. Cyberpunk for 2022, I recommend.

3.0

The Way Spring Arrives ed. by Yu Chen and Regina Kanyu Wang - An anthology of Chinese science fiction and fantasy translated into English, The Way Spring Arrives is a mixed bag in more ways than one. On the positive, every story is different, and moving from one to another is unpredictable, fantasy to science fiction to things between. Readers who want variety from a Chinese perspective have got it. There is no overarching theme (other than “written by women”, which to my mind doesn't mean anything considering no gender has a monopoly on imagination and storytelling, but such are the times.) The other mix, the negative, is quality. Among the stories are few bright spots and few duds. But most is average. Opinion on short fiction is variegated, but for this reader quality here is sustained mediocrity. Thus, the anthology is recommended mostly for readers who want the Chinese perspective, of which there is strong substance.

Memory's Legion by James S.A. Corey – Commenting on this collection is easy: more fiction in the Expanse universe. It fills in gaps, tells side stories, adds layers to a few characters, and recounts of a couple of the legends that characters mention more than once. Written for the diehard fans of the series, it is necessary reading for them. For people unfamiliar but who are interested in modern space opera, check out Leviathan Wakes first.