Neon Hemlock’s Fav Titles of 2023
Hot on the heels of some lovely news about Neon Hemlock’s 2023 publications, here are some 2023 favorites from our authors and editors. We didn’t restrict folks to titles published last year, only what they enjoyed, so caveat emptor.
Engrossing and multi-faceted.
The Saint of Bright Doors felt like the spiritual successor to Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany, as Fetter becomes enmeshed in the unfolding present and history of a richly imagined fantastic city.
—dave ring, Publisher/Managing Editor
Perfectly dark and sexy.
There's a momentum of history in The Fealty of Monsters that feels like a character all on its own. It's like Castlevania: Nocturne with a flavor of Russia and characters just as ruthless.
—Brent Lambert, author of A Necessary Chaos
Creepy and loving.
My favorite book of 2023 has to be The Wicked Unseen by Gigi Griffis. It has baby queers, a loving, supportive family of weirdos (complimentary), and creepy cult rumors set during the Satanic Panic.
—A.Z. Louise, author of Off-Tine Jive
Gorgeously crafted.
My favourite book of 2023 is Nino Cipri’s Finna because who wouldn’t love a queer novella about characters lost in a dimension-bending horror/dark fantasy fractured universe situation set in alternative-reality IKEAs? I personally get lost there all the time even normally, so I could relate to this gorgeously crafted, anti-capitalist romp.
—Anya Ow, author of Cradle and Grave
A powerful voice.
I loved Vajra Chandrasekera's novel The Saint of Bright Doors (July 2023) -- it was one of those stories that filled me with hope and excitement not just for the characters, but for the future of genre writing. I loved the worldbuilding, the experimental style and structure, the powerful voice, the devils and gods and anti-gods (!). It's a book begging for more books to be written in response to it, which I think is secretly the loftiest goal of any piece of fiction.
—Premee Mohamed, author of And What Can We Offer You Tonight
Three gutpunch explorations.
I read so many incredible books in 2023, it's impossible to pick just one, so I'm cheating and listing three! Though very different in setting and structure, all of these stories are absolutely gutpunch explorations of queerness, disability, othering, identity, cultural memory and lateral violence. Walking Practice by Dolki Min, translated by Victoria Caudle, is about a shapeshifting alien stuck on Earth who finds humans to eat through hookup apps, but who struggles with both survival and morality; Simon Jiminez's The Spear Cuts Through Water, which is one of the most phenomenal explorations of voice and narration I've ever read, is about the fall of a tyrannical regime, queer romance and diasporic memory; and Shelley Parker-Chan's He Who Drowned the World, the sequel to She Who Became the Sun, completes their queer reimagining of the founding of the Ming Dynasty.
—Foz Meadows, author of Finding Echoes
Delicious and eerie.
My favorite book of 2023 was Catriona Ward's Looking Glass Sound, a gothic tale about the power of narrative in understanding our lives. Ward powerfully captures the voice of its teen protagonists before slipping into a riveting meta-textual puzzle. Its blend of delicious prose and eerie atmospherics will make you think twice about a trip to the seaside!
—Wendy N. Wagner, author of The Secret Skin
At book-length:
Rosalind's Siblings edited by Bogi Takács explores the dangers and possibilities of science and the pursuit of science through a speculative lens. Featuring stories and poems, the anthology challenges, confronts, and comforts all at once, featuring a range of characters facing intense and complex situations involving research, exploration, and discovery. It's a wonderful reading experience!
—Charles Payseur, series editor of We’re Here: The Year’s Best Queer Speculative Fiction
I'm totally obsessed with…
…the 1997 translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky of Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. This isn't a novel that needs my hype, of course, but I want to note that it is the comic masterpiece it's claimed to be (everyone says comic—it's totally slapstick), as well as a meditation on art in an age of both state-and-self-censorship. If only that were less relevant today.
—Rhiannon Rasmussen, co-editor of Luminescent Machinations.
In Short Fiction:
I discovered Isabel J. Kim's work this year and immediately read everything she had published; I've been thinking about "The Big Glass Box and the Boys Inside" for at least two months now.
—D. A. Vorobyov, associate editor of Baffling