Speculiction's Awards - Best Fiction Published in 2023

The hype machine that is a good chunk of the internet will, undoubtedly, have a lot of positive things to say about speculative fiction published in 2023. Me not so much. Having read twenty-three books published in 2023, the year feels decidedly ho-hum. There are only a couple books I feel strongly about recommending. Why? Maybe because the market continues to be saturated, meaning it's more difficult for books to distinguish themselves or feel distinguished. Maybe because quality is more evenly dispersed. Maybe because identity politics continue to play too strong a role in reviews, awards, and who gets published. Maybe because I'm a thousand+ books deep into my sf&f journey, meaning true satisfaction is more difficult to come by as more and more of speculative fiction's true gems are consumed. They can't all be 5 STARS!!, which is what the hype would have it...

This is all a long winded way of saying there wasn't a lot of competition for Speculiction's novel and anthology/collection of the year. I read the “best” novel early in the year, and if it wasn't for bormgans, I wouldn't even have a “best” anthology/collection. <puff-puff> Let's blow the dust off the velvet curtain and see what they are.

My pick for novel of the year is a slow burn—a steadily warming glow, to be precise. The deeper I got the more I appreciated the shades of Ian McDonald's Desolation Road and Chris Beckett's Dark Eden, and the occasional splashes of Ray Bradbury in Nathan Ballingrud's The Strange. To be ultra clear, however, the sum of its parts is something singular. Ostensibly the coming-of-age of a teenage girl, it is that, as well as glimpses into a society attempting to come to terms with being alone on Mars, no contact or resources from Earth forthcoming. The glimpses, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes stubborn, sometimes dramatic, sometimes hopeless, sometimes reactive, are always human. In another year perhaps Ballingrud's debut novel may not have taken home the trophy, but in 2023 it is the best. The only other novel I considered was Kay Chronister's gritty Desert Creatures, which is also well worth a read.

In the world of anthologies and collections I struggled, as always, to read a relevant amount. Several years ago I told myself I must read at least five in order to hand out an award, and in 2023 I happened to read exactly five. So be aware the following does not take into account the majority of short fiction collections published in the year. That being said, the winning book is phenomenal. It's even better than Ballingrud's The Strange. M. John Harrison is one of the tippy-toppy best writers out there, regardless of genre, and Wish I Was Here his memoir, or more precisely anti-memoir (as it is sub-titled), is more than just autobiography. An atom whose protons, neutrons and electrons orbit in differing spheres, it's impossible to precisely taxonomize Wish I Was Here. Memoir, indeed, but likewise it's muse, creative process, upbringing, poetry, speculation, and more. Harrison is not an interesting person, but his writing and thoughts are completely, utterly, engrossing. For the high brow reader in you, Wish I Was Here comes strongly recommended—and thanks again to bormgans for pointing me towards this. (And for the curious, there is no connection to Pink Floyd.)

As usual, there were several speculative fiction books I didn't get to in the year, including Nina Allan's Conquest, Martin Mcinnes' In Ascension, Katie Williams' My Murder, Jonathan Lethem's Brooklyn Murder Story, Alex Grecian's Red Rabbit, and S.L. Huang's The Water Outlaws. And undoubtedly other potentially worthwhile books will appear in the coming weeks and months as others' best-of lists emerge. If you think I missed something, let me know. Without further ado, here is the breakdown of all books published in 2023 I read:

Novels/Novellas

5.0

4.5

The Strange by Nathan Ballingrud – A girl's coming of age in the Martian sands, Ballingrud captures the loneliness of being separated from Earth through the lives of an increasingly desperate community. Wild west meets 50s sf with a human heart, the book features humanity throughout, speckled with juicy little bits of imagination that give the sands life and color. For people familiar with Ballingrud's short fiction, it's worth noting the novel is a strong departure. While the details of character remain, his diction is significantly more staid, and the speculative mood is more retro sf than Weird, horror, or dark fantasy.

4.0

Desert Creatures by Kay Chronister - Desert Creatures shares a few things in common with The Strange: young woman lead, dusty sands of hopelessness, and odd encounters with remnants of human civilization. But beyond these, Chronister creates a world of her own—a post-apocalyptic Arizona/Nevada featuring a woman trying to find meaning in life. Like Ballingrud's, Chronister's set pieces are not over the top but are uniquely imaginative. The neon cowboy still lopes in my mind. Below the surface, the novel examines the idea of beliefs and values, and comes to something relatable regardless of the reader's creed or orientation.

3.5

Bridge by Lauren Beukes – A voodoo novel in structure and form, The Bridge is definitively a 2023 novel, but one which has taken a few steps back to look at the direction families and society are going, as well as the impact modern media have on health. A troubled teen named Bridget is front and center, and just when she thought life was difficult, her semi-estranged mother passes away. The death opening a voodoo box, Beukes pens an imaginative take on Bridge's coming of age. I do not think the latter half of the novel, particularly its simplistic genre leanings, do the first half justice, but you can read for yourself to make up your own mind.

Hopeland by Ian McDonald – Something of a return for McDonald, Hopeland produces echoes of the author's back catalog (Out on Blue Six, Desolation Road, etc.). A zeitgeist novel, however, McDonald digs into modern concerns regarding the environment and immigration with a semi-utopian vision whose electric verve is intended to inspire. I have misgivings about McDonald's politics, and exposition can occasionally be slap-dash (back catalog, remember), but the gods know that the fantastika market needs more experimental prose presenting truly singular stories, which this is.

When I Sing, Mountains Dance by Irene Sola – More prose than plot, Sola's background as a poet comes through strongly in this magic realist/impressionist journey through the lives of a family living in the Basque mountains. Salt, sugar, vinegar, and spice, it offers a perennial yin/yang view to life and generations—the poet's mantra. Fate, hope realized, and sunny summer afternoons, it's a smorgasbord of moments.

Titanium Noir by Nick Harkaway – Well written, straight-forward cyberpunk sleuthing, Harkaway tells of a near-future where biomeds render the ultra-rich capable of becoming titans—physically massive people with extended life spans. A murder setting the scene (natch), the story that follows is a classic private eye investigation, right down to the authorial voice.

3.0

The Legend of Charlie Fish by Josh Rountree – Combining tall tale and Texas history, The Legend of Charlie Fish tells of the hurricane—the Great Storm—that hit Galveston at the start of the 20th century. Rountee captures a solid authorial voice and nicely edits the story in such a fashion to avoid A to B to C storytelling. Jumping forwards and backwards sustains the piece but perhaps at the expense of a climactic hurricane.

The Lies of the Ajungo by Moses Ose Utomi – A dark fable/myth, Lies tells the story of Ajungo, a boy raised in a city who pays tribute to a neighboring land in tongues—not language, but the fleshy bits inside the mouth—in order to receive much needed water. At the age of thirteen, Ajungo is sent into the desert to save his mother and maybe, just maybe, find a permanent source of water for his people. The novella's diction is sufficient if simple, the imagination is sharp, and the ending is appropriate. If I have anything against it, it would be the irregular moments of lightness that blunt what could have been a razor of a climax.

Gaze Long into the Abyss by Dalan Musson – A simplified, black and white version of Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian, Gaze Long into the Abyss hits a nice spot in term of visuals but is too sparse in substance to drive any particular message or commentary. Room to ruminate is generally a positive thing, and religion seems at the root of this post-apocalytic western, but beyond that Musson plays his cards really close to the chest. Should have been a graphic novel?

Counterweight by Djuna – An extremely lean version of a William Gibson future, Counterweight is a cyberpunk story featuring industrial espionage in an age when mankind has built a space elevator. Despite the fact we live in an age of doorstopper books, Counterweight could have/should have had an additional layer of hard detail to really make the book pop. The story is clean and moves at a breakneck pace, but doesn't have strong staying power due to the lack of singular nuance.

Beyond the Reach of Earth by Ken Macleod – This and the following two books on this list have a common theme: normality. They don't do anything overtly wrong, but by the same token, they don't do anything exceptionally well (save perhaps Hand, who is an excellent stylist). Beyond the Reach of Earth is the definition of “science fiction” too many people. Read the dictionary entry, create an assumption, and voila Beyond the Reach of Earth. Extra-terrestrial escapades, space mysteries, time travel—it borrows bits and pieces here to build... to builds something, and whether that something is an archetype or a stereotype will depend on the reader. For me the needle fell to the stereotype side, but maybe not for you.

A Haunting on the Hill by Elizabeth Hand – A Haunting on the Hill is a tribute to Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. (Get that?) I love Elizabeth Hand but don't love gothic horror. I struggled to finish Jackson's novel, just as I struggled to finish Hand's. But it's certainly not for lack of style or talent. I respect both authors, but this type of fiction is not my groove.

Blade of Dream by Daniel Abraham – Daniel Abraham is another author I respect. His prose is sound, he aims a little more toward character rather than plot, and does a decent job humanizing genre. Blade of Dream, like the prior volume in the series, is too vanilla, however. I found all the aforementioend elements of fiction in the novel, but it struggles, mightily, to distinguish itself from the middle layer of the market. Again, Abraham provides a little more nuance to character than most fantasy offers, but beyond that the story is red brick mediocre.

2.5

The Shadow Casket by ChrisWooding – Upon completion of The Shadow Casket, I was left wondering: Did I read The Ember Blade, the previous novel in the series, with rose-tinted goggles? Looking at the surface, the two novels would seem to be two peas in a pod. Wooding's style is consistent. The characters have the same YA treatment. And the world has a familiar body. Despite the immature tone of The Ember Blade, I could relax into its simple adventure. For whatever reason, The Shadow Casket did not become the same pillow. But the bottom line is: most readers who enjoyed The Ember Blade are likely to enjoy the sequel, just not me.

Song of Silver, Flame Like Night by Amelie Wen Zhao – My expectations killed this book more than anything, but Zhao did no favors. Based on the blurb and reviews, I went in to the novel thinking it would be a fantastical take on Chinese myth, something I have a soft-soft spot for. What I got was a middle school love story with bits of Chinese culture and myth. Howl's Moving Castle, a book openly labeled for teens, is more mature. Regardless of reading level, Zhao's style is fluffy and loose, and doesn't mind including a fair number of eye-rolling phrases one typically finds in romance novels. And like many, many fantasy novels these days, it's possible to excise a third of the content and not miss anything.

The Sword Defiant by Gareth Hanrahan – Confession: I read the first quarter of The Sword Defiant but then went into skim mode. Comedy, especially comedy of the Lethal Weapon/Die Hard/Bad Boys/Beverly Hills Cop variety, is not my cup of tea. Combine that with swords-and-sorcery and I glaze. Why? Fantasy is inherently a genre which requires the writer to work harder to help the reader suspend belief—to buy into the abstract world and idea. Adding cheesy comedy makes that task 100% more difficult, especially with an uber-serious title like “The Sword Defiant”. It sneers at your grandmas's threats to wear a hat in the winter, it laughs at colonoscopies over fifty, it refuses to brush its teeth before bed, it is <drum roll> the Sword Defiant!!! <trumpets blare>

2.0

Androne by Dwain Worrell – Point blank: this is a novel wherein a Hollywood writer learns (the hard way) that writing for the page requires a different technique than the screen. Surface level, Androne has all the pieces of an sf action drama. Apocalyptic mystery, virtually controlled mechwarrior robots, some bullets and lasers—its got the parts. But it doesn't have the execution. Worrell shows occasional flashes of prosaic brilliance, but by and large it is erratic workaday diction. Far worse is character (1.5D at best) and scene setting. They're poor. They have minimal flow. They constantly step on their own feet, poking and pinching, disrupting the reading experience. I developed a twitch reading this.

1.5

Flight & Anchor by Nicole Kornher-Stace – Clashes on top of dissonance on top of conflicts—too bad it's at the level of execution not character or plot. This novel actively fails in a couple key places. Authorial tone does not match the story type and the length of story exceeds the actual mass of story by 100 pages. This should have been a grimdark short story but instead is a meandering novel with minimal purpose where it is going. Kornher-Stace's prior novel Firebreak was a spot of action/drama that played to the author's strengths. This novel shows little strength.

Collections/Anthologies

4.5

Wish I Was Here by M. John Harrison – If you put a gun to my head I would tell you this is non-fiction; it's right there in the subtitle: An Anti-Memoir. But there is enough speculation and imagination in this book to put a few toes over the line into fiction. But regardless real or made up, this is M. John Harrison, and in this book he bares bits of biography, muse, inspiration, and more. Harrison being Harrison, however, it's in the most obtuse and acute manner possible. Goddamn is he a good writer, the flow of words pure pleasure.

4.0

3.5

3.0

Things Get Ugly: The Best CrimeStories of Joe Lansdale – Joe Lansdale, like most writers, can't bat 1.000 in the short fiction department. That being said, he's still worth third or fourth place in the lineup. (Sorry for the baseball metaphor, reading Brittle Innings by Michael Bishop at the moment—and after a thousand+ reviews, well, you understand...) Things Get Ugly is a decent collection of tales that runs the gamut of hero to anti-hero. But regardless who comes out on top, you can bet it's only after twists, turns, and violence. Many of the stories lack Lansdale's singular voice, but enough do to propel the reader forward.

2.5

Communications Breakdown ed. by Jonathan Strahan – Every year or two I read a Strahan anthology of original shorts as he generally has his finger on the pulse of what is happening in science fiction and fantasy. If that is true, then the genres are in a mediocre place based on Communications Breakdown. One, maybe two, stretching to possibly three of these stories can be recommended. The remaining are either the definition of average or, as is the case with a couple of the stories, evidently poorly written. One even feels like a high school writing assignment... Difficult for me to recommend this.

2.0

Stroke of the Pen: The Lost Stories by Terry Pratchett – I love Terry Pratchett. The man's reputation is worth every word. And I will not turn down reading anything by him, including this collection of tales resurrected from Pratchett's youth, when, as a journalist he used a bit of free space in his local newspaper to write fanciful nothings under a pen name. In my review I wrote that this collection is for two types of people: Pratchett collectors and people who live and breathe his every word. Otherwise, this material (dozens of stories 4-8 pages in length) could have remained unresurrected and we would not be missing anything. Neil Gaiman, Rob Wilkins, and others put legitimate effort into making this as good as it can be, but the stories are what they are: dry seeds to the flower Pratchett's writing would become.

Ten Planets by Yuri Herrera – There are some readers in this world critical of Literature (capital L). When I read collections like Yuri Hererra's Ten Planets I understand why. More noise than song, more style than substance, and fundamentally unaware of what it wants to be underneath the pretension, it's difficult for me to say something positive here beyond: the prose is generally sharp. Otherwise, prepare yourself for magic realism that wants to be an edge lord but is in fact a lost lord.