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unfetteredfiction's review against another edition
inspiring
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
4.25
"There are not many ways to draw suspicion upon yourself any more. You can do almost anything you like, be any kind of person you want, as long as you don't do it unwatched. Everything is permitted, nothing is private."
- Matt Harris, Broken Pixel from Somewhere this Way: New Short Stories from the Fiction Desk
Somewhere This Way is a wonderfully rich and insightful collection of short stories from the Fiction Desk. The stories were short, of course, but impactful, and entirely engaging.
Many of the stories delve into human feelings, odd happenings, and both ordinary and extraordinary challenges. My favourites of the collection were Our Gaff by Poppy Toland, Broken Pixel by Matt Harris and The Haunted Bookshop by Guy Russel. Each presented a world which claimed my attention and demanded after thought. I'm hoping to lend this out, as I'd love to chat about these stories with someone. I'll be reading more from the Fiction Desk.
joecam79's review against another edition
4.0
The Fiction Desk Anthology series has now reached its thirteenth volume, entitled “Somewhere This Way”. In his introduction to this latest issue, editor Rob Redman explains that, as in previous years, the theme and title of the collection were suggested "by the stories themselves" as they were being compiled. In this case, the stories explore, to quote the blurb on the back, the routes people take through life: they find their way, lose the thread they’re following, or think again about the path they’re on. It’s an intriguing unifying theme – one which gives the collection itself a “thread to follow”, whilst allowing for a degree of variety in the subject of the individual pieces.
It is also a theme which reflects – albeit obliquely – the political realities of the present, especially with the looming cloud of Brexit. Redman insists that the publication does not generally take a political position and his stance is, accordingly, restrained and measured. Yet, he comments on the importance of a strong and open relationship between the countries of Europe and the benefits which come from freedom of movement. Perhaps it comes as no surprise that, compared to previous anthologies in the series, this particular selection contains a strong dose of realism, and is often tinged with a sense of sadness and nostalgia.
A case in point is “Our Gaff”, by Poppy Toland, a young woman’s coming of age story, narrated by her mother, a single parent with mental health issues. Massive Attack’s song “Unfinished Sympathy” is repeatedly referenced, as if it were a sort of imaginary soundtrack, imbuing the writing with the wistful melancholy of trip-hop. Toland’s piece placed second in the Fiction Desk’s Newcomer Prize. The winning entry – “Seelence” – by Lahra Crowe is also included in this collection and also deals with loss. Set against the sublime backdrop of the Scottish Highlands, its narrator is a young widow who resists her family’s pressure to return to a conventional life. The story is remarkable in its use of Scottish dialect, which is only momentarily abandoned, subtly suggesting the inescapable link between language and thought (an idea which reminded me strongly of the late Andrea Camilleri’s historical novel La mossa del cavallo).
The theme of “routes” and “journeys” takes on a literal twist in Michael Hurst’s Life on the Road. Colleagues Terri and Richard are travelling by car to their firm’s head office. It is evident that there is a history to their relationship which goes beyond work, but this particular trip will test it to the limits.
It is not the first time that these anthologies have explored technology and its impact on individuals. “Broken Pixel”, Matt Harris’s first story to feature in the series, uses the subject of “cyber-espionage” to explore the ways in which our contemporary lives our mapped out on the internet.
Edinburgh-based author Alastair Chisholm returns with two contributions. In "The Castle", a day at the beach reveals the difficulties faced by a little boy in accepting his mother’s new partner. The symbolism is effective, despite being hardly subtle. I preferred Chisholm’s second story – “Exhalation” – which is almost Poe-like in its portrayal of obsession and descent into madness.
The Fiction Desk has consistently given priority to narrative over form and has never shied away from genre ficton. “Deep Green Leaves”, by regular contributor Alex Clark, fits these parameters nicely and provides a strong opener to this collection. I won’t reveal too many details, except to state that this starts off as a crime story and ends up somewhere completely different. It’s also a touching exploration of solitude and outsiderness.
As far as “genre” is concerned, The Fiction Desk has been particularly attentive to the ghost story, featuring no less than three volumes exclusively dedicated to supernatural tales. (You can read my review of the third one here). It’s surely difficult to come across a ghost story as heart-warming Guy Russell’s “The Haunted Bookshop”. It features a spectre who is not only benign, but decidedly and actively benevolent. The story is also a love-song to bookshops and fiction in general, and provides a fitting ending to this collection.
In the past months, The Fiction Desk announced several changes to its editorial approach, with the abolition of its long-established Newcomer, Ghost Story and Flash Fiction competitions, and their replacement with “themed” calls for submissions. Perhaps, like the protagonists of “Somewhere This Way”, this publication also needs to take stock of where it is now, with a view to venturing into pastures new. I sincerely hope that the values of well-crafted storytelling which have defined it so far will be retained in the next stage of its unfinished journey...
It is also a theme which reflects – albeit obliquely – the political realities of the present, especially with the looming cloud of Brexit. Redman insists that the publication does not generally take a political position and his stance is, accordingly, restrained and measured. Yet, he comments on the importance of a strong and open relationship between the countries of Europe and the benefits which come from freedom of movement. Perhaps it comes as no surprise that, compared to previous anthologies in the series, this particular selection contains a strong dose of realism, and is often tinged with a sense of sadness and nostalgia.
A case in point is “Our Gaff”, by Poppy Toland, a young woman’s coming of age story, narrated by her mother, a single parent with mental health issues. Massive Attack’s song “Unfinished Sympathy” is repeatedly referenced, as if it were a sort of imaginary soundtrack, imbuing the writing with the wistful melancholy of trip-hop. Toland’s piece placed second in the Fiction Desk’s Newcomer Prize. The winning entry – “Seelence” – by Lahra Crowe is also included in this collection and also deals with loss. Set against the sublime backdrop of the Scottish Highlands, its narrator is a young widow who resists her family’s pressure to return to a conventional life. The story is remarkable in its use of Scottish dialect, which is only momentarily abandoned, subtly suggesting the inescapable link between language and thought (an idea which reminded me strongly of the late Andrea Camilleri’s historical novel La mossa del cavallo).
The theme of “routes” and “journeys” takes on a literal twist in Michael Hurst’s Life on the Road. Colleagues Terri and Richard are travelling by car to their firm’s head office. It is evident that there is a history to their relationship which goes beyond work, but this particular trip will test it to the limits.
It is not the first time that these anthologies have explored technology and its impact on individuals. “Broken Pixel”, Matt Harris’s first story to feature in the series, uses the subject of “cyber-espionage” to explore the ways in which our contemporary lives our mapped out on the internet.
Edinburgh-based author Alastair Chisholm returns with two contributions. In "The Castle", a day at the beach reveals the difficulties faced by a little boy in accepting his mother’s new partner. The symbolism is effective, despite being hardly subtle. I preferred Chisholm’s second story – “Exhalation” – which is almost Poe-like in its portrayal of obsession and descent into madness.
The Fiction Desk has consistently given priority to narrative over form and has never shied away from genre ficton. “Deep Green Leaves”, by regular contributor Alex Clark, fits these parameters nicely and provides a strong opener to this collection. I won’t reveal too many details, except to state that this starts off as a crime story and ends up somewhere completely different. It’s also a touching exploration of solitude and outsiderness.
As far as “genre” is concerned, The Fiction Desk has been particularly attentive to the ghost story, featuring no less than three volumes exclusively dedicated to supernatural tales. (You can read my review of the third one here). It’s surely difficult to come across a ghost story as heart-warming Guy Russell’s “The Haunted Bookshop”. It features a spectre who is not only benign, but decidedly and actively benevolent. The story is also a love-song to bookshops and fiction in general, and provides a fitting ending to this collection.
In the past months, The Fiction Desk announced several changes to its editorial approach, with the abolition of its long-established Newcomer, Ghost Story and Flash Fiction competitions, and their replacement with “themed” calls for submissions. Perhaps, like the protagonists of “Somewhere This Way”, this publication also needs to take stock of where it is now, with a view to venturing into pastures new. I sincerely hope that the values of well-crafted storytelling which have defined it so far will be retained in the next stage of its unfinished journey...
joecam79's review
4.0
The Fiction Desk Anthology series has now reached its thirteenth volume, entitled “Somewhere This Way”. In his introduction to this latest issue, editor Rob Redman explains that, as in previous years, the theme and title of the collection were suggested "by the stories themselves" as they were being compiled. In this case, the stories explore, to quote the blurb on the back, the routes people take through life: they find their way, lose the thread they’re following, or think again about the path they’re on. It’s an intriguing unifying theme – one which gives the collection itself a “thread to follow”, whilst allowing for a degree of variety in the subject of the individual pieces.
It is also a theme which reflects – albeit obliquely – the political realities of the present, especially with the looming cloud of Brexit. Redman insists that the publication does not generally take a political position and his stance is, accordingly, restrained and measured. Yet, he comments on the importance of a strong and open relationship between the countries of Europe and the benefits which come from freedom of movement. Perhaps it comes as no surprise that, compared to previous anthologies in the series, this particular selection contains a strong dose of realism, and is often tinged with a sense of sadness and nostalgia.
A case in point is “Our Gaff”, by Poppy Toland, a young woman’s coming of age story, narrated by her mother, a single parent with mental health issues. Massive Attack’s song “Unfinished Sympathy” is repeatedly referenced, as if it were a sort of imaginary soundtrack, imbuing the writing with the wistful melancholy of trip-hop. Toland’s piece placed second in the Fiction Desk’s Newcomer Prize. The winning entry – “Seelence” – by Lahra Crowe is also included in this collection and also deals with loss. Set against the sublime backdrop of the Scottish Highlands, its narrator is a young widow who resists her family’s pressure to return to a conventional life. The story is remarkable in its use of Scottish dialect, which is only momentarily abandoned, subtly suggesting the inescapable link between language and thought (an idea which reminded me strongly of the late Andrea Camilleri’s historical novel La mossa del cavallo).
The theme of “routes” and “journeys” takes on a literal twist in Michael Hurst’s Life on the Road. Colleagues Terri and Richard are travelling by car to their firm’s head office. It is evident that there is a history to their relationship which goes beyond work, but this particular trip will test it to the limits.
It is not the first time that these anthologies have explored technology and its impact on individuals. “Broken Pixel”, Matt Harris’s first story to feature in the series, uses the subject of “cyber-espionage” to explore the ways in which our contemporary lives our mapped out on the internet.
Edinburgh-based author Alastair Chisholm returns with two contributions. In "The Castle", a day at the beach reveals the difficulties faced by a little boy in accepting his mother’s new partner. The symbolism is effective, despite being hardly subtle. I preferred Chisholm’s second story – “Exhalation” – which is almost Poe-like in its portrayal of obsession and descent into madness.
The Fiction Desk has consistently given priority to narrative over form and has never shied away from genre ficton. “Deep Green Leaves”, by regular contributor Alex Clark, fits these parameters nicely and provides a strong opener to this collection. I won’t reveal too many details, except to state that this starts off as a crime story and ends up somewhere completely different. It’s also a touching exploration of solitude and outsiderness.
As far as “genre” is concerned, The Fiction Desk has been particularly attentive to the ghost story, featuring no less than three volumes exclusively dedicated to supernatural tales. (You can read my review of the third one here). It’s surely difficult to come across a ghost story as heart-warming Guy Russell’s “The Haunted Bookshop”. It features a spectre who is not only benign, but decidedly and actively benevolent. The story is also a love-song to bookshops and fiction in general, and provides a fitting ending to this collection.
In the past months, The Fiction Desk announced several changes to its editorial approach, with the abolition of its long-established Newcomer, Ghost Story and Flash Fiction competitions, and their replacement with “themed” calls for submissions. Perhaps, like the protagonists of “Somewhere This Way”, this publication also needs to take stock of where it is now, with a view to venturing into pastures new. I sincerely hope that the values of well-crafted storytelling which have defined it so far will be retained in the next stage of its unfinished journey...
It is also a theme which reflects – albeit obliquely – the political realities of the present, especially with the looming cloud of Brexit. Redman insists that the publication does not generally take a political position and his stance is, accordingly, restrained and measured. Yet, he comments on the importance of a strong and open relationship between the countries of Europe and the benefits which come from freedom of movement. Perhaps it comes as no surprise that, compared to previous anthologies in the series, this particular selection contains a strong dose of realism, and is often tinged with a sense of sadness and nostalgia.
A case in point is “Our Gaff”, by Poppy Toland, a young woman’s coming of age story, narrated by her mother, a single parent with mental health issues. Massive Attack’s song “Unfinished Sympathy” is repeatedly referenced, as if it were a sort of imaginary soundtrack, imbuing the writing with the wistful melancholy of trip-hop. Toland’s piece placed second in the Fiction Desk’s Newcomer Prize. The winning entry – “Seelence” – by Lahra Crowe is also included in this collection and also deals with loss. Set against the sublime backdrop of the Scottish Highlands, its narrator is a young widow who resists her family’s pressure to return to a conventional life. The story is remarkable in its use of Scottish dialect, which is only momentarily abandoned, subtly suggesting the inescapable link between language and thought (an idea which reminded me strongly of the late Andrea Camilleri’s historical novel La mossa del cavallo).
The theme of “routes” and “journeys” takes on a literal twist in Michael Hurst’s Life on the Road. Colleagues Terri and Richard are travelling by car to their firm’s head office. It is evident that there is a history to their relationship which goes beyond work, but this particular trip will test it to the limits.
It is not the first time that these anthologies have explored technology and its impact on individuals. “Broken Pixel”, Matt Harris’s first story to feature in the series, uses the subject of “cyber-espionage” to explore the ways in which our contemporary lives our mapped out on the internet.
Edinburgh-based author Alastair Chisholm returns with two contributions. In "The Castle", a day at the beach reveals the difficulties faced by a little boy in accepting his mother’s new partner. The symbolism is effective, despite being hardly subtle. I preferred Chisholm’s second story – “Exhalation” – which is almost Poe-like in its portrayal of obsession and descent into madness.
The Fiction Desk has consistently given priority to narrative over form and has never shied away from genre ficton. “Deep Green Leaves”, by regular contributor Alex Clark, fits these parameters nicely and provides a strong opener to this collection. I won’t reveal too many details, except to state that this starts off as a crime story and ends up somewhere completely different. It’s also a touching exploration of solitude and outsiderness.
As far as “genre” is concerned, The Fiction Desk has been particularly attentive to the ghost story, featuring no less than three volumes exclusively dedicated to supernatural tales. (You can read my review of the third one here). It’s surely difficult to come across a ghost story as heart-warming Guy Russell’s “The Haunted Bookshop”. It features a spectre who is not only benign, but decidedly and actively benevolent. The story is also a love-song to bookshops and fiction in general, and provides a fitting ending to this collection.
In the past months, The Fiction Desk announced several changes to its editorial approach, with the abolition of its long-established Newcomer, Ghost Story and Flash Fiction competitions, and their replacement with “themed” calls for submissions. Perhaps, like the protagonists of “Somewhere This Way”, this publication also needs to take stock of where it is now, with a view to venturing into pastures new. I sincerely hope that the values of well-crafted storytelling which have defined it so far will be retained in the next stage of its unfinished journey...
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