This latest tome from N. K. Jemisin tells the story of New York—specifically, of the six people who must become the city of New York in order to save themselves and their city from destruction.
In this sequel to The Peripheral, Gibson returns to a world with multiple futures, and a newly rewritten past.
Formed in 1974, the Combahee River Collective was a radical Black feminist organization.
Under the pseudonym James Tiptree, Jr., Alice Sheldon wrote dozens of award-winning and influential stories, some of the best of which are included here.
“I read sci-fi and visionary fiction as political, sacred, and philosophical text, and I engage with others who read it that way,” writes adrienne maree brown, in this astonishing, radical, and humane book.
In this late volume, Le Guin reflects on many of the things that animated her thinking throughout her life.
This is a story of the underground railroad, of memory, and of magic—all told with Coates’s exquisite prose.
This collection of shorts includes ghosts, flying machines, witches, ancient trees, and more than one impossible transformation.
This collection ranges across a wide territory in both place and time, but there are recurring themes: aging, mortality, endings and beginnings—extraordinary reflections on ordinary lives.
The cover blurb promises lesbian necromancers in space, and the pages within do not disappoint.
In this reimagining of the Iliad, the love story is not of Helen and Paris but of Achilles and his beloved, Patroclus.
This story begins when Sasha, on a beach holiday with her mother, notices a strange man keeping tabs on her.
This is a lucid, steady journey through the meaning of both racism and antiracism.
In the titular story from this collection, the world has gone to hell, and those with means have absconded to the sea, in cruise ships where no one gets off at port.
Jenny Brown looks at the declining birth rate in the US—alongside well-funded resistance to abortion and contraceptive access—and sees not a moral divide but an economic power struggle.
This is a subversive and triumphant retelling of the story of Circe, daughter of the sun-god Helios.
Fleeing Reykjavik amid a series of murders, Cass Neary lands in London expecting to rendevous with her longtime lover Quinn—but Quinn is nowhere to be found.
Cass Neary has arrived home in New York, after a brief stint in Maine where she just happened to be involved with several mysterious deaths.
“My life, who could pretend there wasn’t a big fucking hole in it?”
A lovely treatise that argues t hat attention to a place is what makes life—well, alive.