Here is your opportunity to win a signed paperback copy of ‘Other Stories’, and Other Stories by Adam Browne.
Described by John Dixon, author of Pheonix Island: Science fiction and fantasy fans: my favorite spec fic storyteller, excellent friend, and frequent coauthor, Australian Adam Browne, has a new short story collection out today! Adam’s won a bunch of awards, is the critically-acclaimed author of the stellar novel PYROTECHNICON, and is an all-around great guy, one of my favorite people on the planet.
His new collection, “OTHER STORIES” AND OTHER STORIES also features his incredible illustrations — and “The Laughing Girl of Bora Fanong”, a story we wrote together… my favorite of our several coauthored tales, for what it’s worth. It’s quite different from my thrillers. It’s a sci fi story about a coroner on Venus, written in the style of W. Somerset Maugham, or so we like to think.
Adam’s stories are wildly creative and beautifully written, challenging yet rewarding. No one is his equal in imagery and wordplay. Oh yeah, and he has cool endings.
From the STINKING GENIUS responsible for Pryotechnicon: Being a True Account of Cyrano De Bergerac’s Further Adventures Among The States and Empires of the Stars, by Himself (dec’d), comes a still-warm midden of fantastical short stories.
The Author takes this opportunity to apologise for the feelings of inadequacy that will arise in those who encounter the exquisitudinal stories herein contained, or barely contained — glittering, lacy, plangent with ideas and pungent with wordplay, all touching on — sometimes delicately, sometimes with fists, sometimes with greasy intimacy — diverse curious and amusing notions, such as an endeavour by British colonials to terraform Hell (contrast with the story dealing with the late Carl Linnaeus’s attempts to classify the species of Paradise); a planet wrapped in fabric where pirates boom and roar in galleoned steam irons; a look at what it will mean to be disabled in the future … etc., etc. — a book to be handled with care, so close is its resemblance to a clutch of Faberge eggs, their Faberge chicks waiting to be hatched by the warmth of the Reader’s startled regard.