Broomsticks & Rocket Ships: The Starseekers by Nicole Glover
Published on January 22, 2026
Published on January 22, 2026
Published on January 22, 2026
Published on January 22, 2026
Credit: Prime Video
Published on January 22, 2026
Published on January 22, 2026
Credit: Paramount+
Published on January 22, 2026
All aboard these 19 transporting romantasies!
It’s a slow start to the new year, but there are plenty of romantasies to get us through the rest of winter, as January and February’s bookish valentines sort themselves into a number of intriguing subcategories. There are magical tales of love in third places outside the home or work; many a drama in which poets and performers must hone their skills in order to kill their most loyal admirers and audiences; and time slips via transportation.

(Dutton; January 13, 2026) This debut sounds like a queer Odd Couple set in a whimsical cottage on the edge of an enchanted forest: David Carew is exasperated with his eccentric roommate Meredith Schwarzwelder—like, has made a 100 Things I Hate About You list exasperated—and is looking for any excuse to break the lease. The eponymous Midnight Wood creeping dark magic around Meredith seems as good an excuse as any, but the upcoming nuptials (between Meredith’s brother and David’s boss’ daughter) forces the roomies into further proximity. We all know what a wedding can do to the best of intentions, especially when your romantic leads are described as a manic pixie dream boy and Colin Firth levels of uptight.

(Orbit Books; January 20, 2026) How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days is one of those 2000s rom-coms I would always change the channel to on cable, so I’m tickled by the opposites-attract of cottagecore and goblincore in this forced-proximity roommate romantasy. Halfling Pansy and goblin Ren each believe they’ve inherited the same cozy cottage, so they make (of course) a bargain: they’ll live together until one of them drives the other one mad and out the door. It’s like if Andie Anderson and Benjamin Barry put their cards on the table from the start! And instead of a diamond ad campaign, it’s an encroaching community threat that will force them to face their attraction and figure out how they can work better together to save their home.

(Arcadia Falls #1—Del Rey; February 3, 2026) Contemporary romance loves a quaint mountain town, but Arcadia Falls has a magical twist, as insurance agent Rhea Wolfe discovers when she inherits her grandmother’s cozy cottage, a run-down video store, and the family history of witchcraft. Leaving Alabama for Arcadia Falls isn’t the worst thing, as Rhea is inspired to transform the abandoned store into a welcoming bookshop—while catching the eye of handyman Hunter Blakely. Too bad their families are sworn enemies across the magical divide. But as Rhea embeds herself more in the community that her mother always warned her against, she’s more compelled to mend the enmity between their families and save Arcadia Falls’ magic. And what’s this about her having two “hopelessly immature” younger sisters who rely on her? I have a feeling more of the Wolfe sisters will be visiting Arcadia Falls in future installments…

(Leviathian Fitness #1—Berkley; February 10, 2026) Speaking of places to revisit, Ashley Bennett’s previously self-published Leviathian Fitness series is getting a rerelease this year. The supernatural gym is the setting for meet-cutes among potential mates Atlas, a wolven and the owner, and Tegan, a wedding baker who would rather deadlift than be a damsel in distress. Look for future emotional workouts with similarly expanded editions of Tentacles & Triathlons and Mantras & Minotaurs.

(Del Rey; February 17, 2026) In 1920s Montréal, Agnes Aubert is much like the cats in her cat rescue charity: prickly, particular, aloof, and used to doing things her own way. But when the shelter needs a new home, Agnes must swallow her pride and ask for help—even if it comes from Havelock, the mysterious magician whose dark magics are rumored to have almost ended the world, and who runs an illegal magic shop out of his basement. Drawn to his mischievous personality despite herself, Agnes must choose a side when a glamorous magician comes sniffing around for Havelock. Protecting the shelter means defending the magic shop and being willing to look past the dangerous legend and get to know the man.

(Saturday Books; January 13, 2026) I’ve seen other fantasy!Florence settings, but incorporating sculpture into the magic system is a real savvy move for YA author Isabel Ibañez’s adult debut. Sculptress Ravenna Maffei conjures beauty from stone, but because all magic is forbidden in this alternate-universe Renaissance Italy, her gift is regarded only as dark witchcraft. The Pope is obsessed with eliminating all magic, forcing Ravenna to turn to the immortal famiglia dei Luni—and its merciless heir, Saturnino—for protection.

(Bramble; January 20, 2026) Rice farmer-turned-imperial concubine Wei Yin infiltrates the lethal Azalea House in order to save the remaining members of her family from starvation. But in order to survive, she must first learn the forbidden art of reading in order to compose the deadly heart-spirit poem. If the poetry magic is properly mastered, this ballad will kill Azalea’s cruel heir… but the only truly effective heart-spirit poem must be written with love. Screaming.

(Mayhem Books; February 3, 2026) This dark debut amplifies performers’ stage presence into something much more vicious in the world of the Playhouse, where immortal Players can bend reality and prey upon their adoring audiences. Cursed by a Player with a slow death, Riven Hesper grows up knowing that the only way to survive an encounter with the Players is to distract them with compliments and never look them in the eyes… that is, until the unprecedented opportunity arises for one mortal to steal a Player’s immortality. Taking to the stage, Riven strikes a bargain with Jude, the Lead Player, in which he will break her curse but she must spare his life. As these co-conspirators become scene partners and perhaps something more, Riven must confront the possibility that she is being set up not as the ingénue, but as the villain.

(Delacorate Press; February 3, 2026) Bookending this section of the report is another work where making art is the gravest trespass—in fact, it’s a sin. Secret storytelling is a forbidden art that conjures demons out of the shadows, but that hasn’t stopped Inana from crafting more illicit narratives for her eager audiences. Sure, she has a bounty on her head, the promise of a nasty death sacrificed to the immortal Sinless, but that only adds to the thrill. Said thrill is enhanced by crossing paths with Dominic, a half-Sinless monster hunter who wants to collect on her bounty… and more.

(The Night-Singers Duology #1—Ace; January 13, 2026) It took me multiple checks to confirm that this is the beginning of a new duology from contemporary romance author Shepard, because of the sheer amount of backstory: Iona Night-Singer is a priestess on the other side of a war, having beaten back the god Death… but in the final battle, her beloved Taran sacrificed himself. Iona begs her patron goddess Wesha to let her play Orpheus and rescue her Eurydice from the Underworld—only to discover that Taran is actually in the Summerlands, a trickster god with no memory of her or their bond. What’s worse, the gods are regrouping for revenge on the mortals who dared oppose them.

(The Broken Accords #1—Aria; January 27, 2026) The afterlives here belong to a princess fated to endless resurrection in order to maintain peace for Vartena. Bryony Devaliant is the latest sacrificial princess, her death and rebirth meant to appease the gods. But when the mortals tire of this eternal bargain, the god-king sends Evander, an immortal assassin known as the Wolf for how brutally he kills over and over. And this time, he’s finally found the prey he cannot kill—which spells doom, for gods and mortals, not even reincarnated ones, are not meant to fall in love.

(Little, Brown and Company; February 10, 2026) A slightly different sort of Underworld is the setting for Maniscalco’s standalone fantasy romance—a realm of divine dreams and nasty nightmares. Prince Sloth must protect his enchanted library by discovering the Book of Nightmares before the Goddess of Night does. But he can’t do it alone; he must beg the help of Lore Brimstone, a librarian who is plunged into the Underworld via a portal stone called the Phoenix Tear. But sunny Lore recognizes this uncanny reality: she’s living out her favorite novels, one by one, but with the stories twisted into dark endings, unless she and Sloth can restore the canon.

(Saga Press; February 24, 2026) Yue is unparalleled in her deadly ways, appearing on the streets of Longhao as a beautiful woman until she consumes her victims as the nine-tailed fox. But she is also alone, possibly the last of her kind, and susceptible to demon hunters like Sonam. Instead of being banished to Hell on her own, however, she drags him down with her. Now fox and hunter must ally against the terrors of the underworld in order to fight their way back to the land of the living.

(Wednesday Books; January 6, 2026) In a fun twist on familiar archetypes, Prince Arris is the damsel of sorts; thanks to a curse upon the royal family, he anticipates that anyone seeking the throne needs only to marry him before they can handily murder him and rule the Isle of Malys. To wit, a tournament of brides is held for Arris’ hand, with no hope to discern the promising young princesses’ motives. Until, that is, Arris meets Demelza, a veritas swan in hiding. In exchange for her protection, Arris demands that Demelza be his canary in the coal mine, so to speak—to suss out which brides are true. But how will the swan survive once these deadly suitresses figure out her power… and, perhaps, once they discern that she may be a rival for Arris’ heart and hand?

(Queens of Villainy #2—Bramble; January 27, 2026) Queen Lorelei is accustomed to capturing hearts, breaking them, and leaving trails of rainbow sparkles in her wake. But behind that glittery glamour is a ruler shrewd enough to play seductress while really maintaining the safety of the fae realm. As part of her cover, she kidnaps the empire’s valiant general Gerard de Moireul—but any plans for no-strings-attached seduction are dashed by a deadly fae tournament. Now, Lorelei must convince her enemy’s most prized fighter to become her champion and save both their lives.

(Erewhon Books; January 27, 2026) A court is nothing without its people, even if they are themselves cursed. In this retelling of the 12th-century tale of Bisclavret the werewolf, the would-be knight hides from his glorious destiny due to managing his wolf-sickness. But when a new young king takes the throne, every nobleman must kiss the ring and swear fealty, which drags Bisclavret to court. The king, lonely even surrounded by his courtiers, finds a kindred spirit in the self-imposed pariah. But any closeness is lost when Bisclavret disappears unexpectedly and the king must venture out of his court to find him—his only companion on the journey a peculiar wolf…

(Orbit Books; February 24, 2026) A newly widowed queen begs the gods for aid after a natural disaster floods the Kingdom of the Five Isles, killing her husband and countless citizens. However, the gods’ help comes with a tricky rule: Queen Coralys must marry the first man to set foot on her pier… no matter that he’s a penniless, sunburnt, stinking fisherman. We love a marriage between strangers—especially when it turns out that the humble fisherman is actually the god of the sea, intent on repairing his own kingdom even as his new wife has declared revenge on his people.

(Del Rey; January 20, 2026) I would bet that many of us are feeling adrift, between January ennui and the general state of the world. The Ghibli-esque vibes of this whimsical fantasy romance are arriving right on time, no ticket required: Grieving her brother and her own abandoned songwriting dreams, med student Raya Sia finds herself one night stepping not onto the subway, but the Elsewhere Express. Fellow passenger and artist Q Chen Philips Jr. joins Raya in shedding their emotional baggage as they explore the train, each care more surreal and imaginative than the last. But in its quest to welcome aboard lost souls, the Elsewhere Express has picked up a passenger with a dark secret that will threaten the train’s very existence, unless Raya and Q can stop him.

(Ancestor Memories #2—Harper Perennial; January 27, 2026) The first book in Kuroki’s Ancestor Memories series was inspired by Outlander but with a young Scottish woman transported to the samurai era. In the sequel, set in 1995 Tokyo, Yui Sanada follows her twelve-year-old brother Hiro through a samurai statue to 1923. While searching for Hiro, Yui falls for a young woman named Chiyo—and realizes that in mere weeks the devastating Great Kanto Earthquake will kill tens of thousands of people. Torn between her need to reunite with her brother and the chance of new love, Yui must decide what to do with this dangerous knowledge, and what—or who—she will have to give up.
The post Goblin Roomies, Art Magic, and Dream Trains: Romantasy Report for January and February 2026 appeared first on Reactor.
Published on January 22, 2026
Detail from an illustrated Albanian postage stamp (2010)
Detail from an illustrated Albanian postage stamp (2010)
So, I lied.
In 2023, I wrote a column about how I had come to terms with my overwhelming to-be-read pile. It was not the first time I had written about said pile; it is, obviously, not the last. I had decided, partly with the help of a quote from Oliver Burkeman, that I was fine with the pile. Which is not so much a pile but the majority of the contents of a bookcase that is six feet tall and five feet wide. But “pile” sounds better than “mountain” or “thing that could maybe topple over and kill someone.”
At any rate, it was fine. Everything was fine. The books sat there, looking at me forlornly every time I sat at the dining table, but it was fine. They were a bounty of riches that I would appreciate, swim through, pluck from whenever it felt like a book’s time had come. The desire to buy more books is never going to go away. The books would get read or not. Everything is hunky-dory.
Then three things happened.
One, on a whim, I sorted out the TBR bookcase into “books I want to read” and “books my partner wants to read.”
Suddenly, my pile was a little less daunting. Twice the size of his pile? At least. But that was to be expected.
Two, we moved. Moving, as I may have mentioned, sucks. I am so happy to have moved, to live in a new place with a beautiful view of the sky, central heating… and the to-be-read bookcase right in the middle of it all. It’s not gloating. Bookcases don’t gloat. It’s looking winningly at me, smiling faintly, beckoning alluringly. I can see all the books on it; they’re no longer half hidden behind a cat tree. They are not in a corner. They’re right there.
And I want to read them.
Here’s the thing. This is totally fine and valid and great. It’s great to have a mountain of unread books the size of someone else’s entire library, and it’s great to have just the book you’re reading and the book you’re going to read next. It’s all entirely wonderful. But I have been living in this “When will I get to all these books?” space for so very, very long. And I keep wondering what the other places to live look like. On New Year’s Eve, I said to an acquaintance, “I just want to know what it feels like to think, Hey, I want to read that book next, and go buy it and then just … read it.” You know, without feeling like I ought to be reading something else. Or many something elses.
(I would also like to make use of my very good local library without feeling like I’m neglecting the books I have at home.)
I remember not having books. I don’t mean to be glib about any of this. I remember the little tiny row of books I lined up on a windowsill in college. I remember working at a B&N in college and still spending my lunch breaks reading books that belonged to the store because I could not afford to buy them. A good number of books come into my life for professional reasons, and I try not to take that for granted. A good number of books I don’t want to read also appear in my life, and I put them all in Little Free Libraries, because I might as well share the bounty.
Here’s the third thing that happened: I counted. I counted the unread books. I pulled off the ones that are basically reference books or coffee table type books that a person is not likely to read cover to cover. I forgot to include my books about reading and writing, which live on a different shelf. I did not count the not-yet-read Ursula K. Le Guin books, which also live on a different shelf. But I counted the books in the pile that has been so dauntingly and brazenly staring at me for years, and then I laughed. I highly recommend counting your unreads. Why?
Books are big fibbers. Books are dogs that you can’t see that have huge growly barks and then turn out to be little tiny lapdogs who are just mad that you’re not petting them. Books are whatever the opposite of icebergs are. This mountain of books? This thing that’s been psyching me out? It’s 159 books, give or take. Sure, some of them are omnibusses, but I wasn’t going to pull those out and count every individual title separately. Rounding up with all the other unread books in the house, maybe we’re looking at 200. Maybe. And I can read those.
(A small caveat: I am not talking about ebooks, because those don’t exist unless I’m reading them. Out of sight, out of mind. I used to feel bad about this, and avoided buying them, but that’s silly. As Delilah S. Dawson pointed out on Bluesky just yesterday, “If you buy an e-book while it’s on sale, you never have to read it. If you have $2 to spare & want to help that particular author, you can just chuck the book into the oubliette of your TBR.” They still sold a book! No one ever has to know what you did with it.)
In the last three weeks, I went on a short story binge and read three collections. Then I needed a form break. I’m reading Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine’s Last Chance to See just because it was on the shelf and I wanted something that wasn’t a novel and I still miss Douglas Adams. (Some of his travel commentary feels quite dated, almost 40 years later, but much of the book remains hilarious and fresh when it’s not distressing, and did you know Adams was 6’5”??? I always pictured him as a sort of hobbity man. I love being wrong.) I’m reading a book a friend gave me more years ago than I want to admit. It was probably the book that had been on my TBR shelf the longest. But not anymore.
I love the beauty in limitations. I love that what I’m going to read next—things I need to review notwithstanding—is whatever is right here already. This is not a moral exercise or a chore. It’s a joy. It’s appreciating what I have in order to appreciate what I don’t know about yet. It is freeing myself from any shreds of lingering feeling I might have about the pressure to be “caught up” on what’s new and hot and fresh. You can never be “caught up.” I would need to read all these books and hundreds more in order to know all the things about writing and SFF and the world that I would like to know.
But I’m enjoying the limits. And I am not denying myself all new-book pleasures. I believe in buying books and I believe in supporting independent bookstores, and I am allowed to buy one book every time I go in my favorite local. I have a book or three preordered already, and that is fine. It’s not a process of denial. It’s a process of discovery. And at the end of it, waiting for me, is that feeling I wanted to feel again. Or something close to it. I don’t think I’ll ever have no unread books in the house. But they’ll all be up next. They won’t have a chance to become part of the furniture.[end-mark]
The post Your To-Be-Read Pile Might Be Lying to You appeared first on Reactor.
Published on January 22, 2026
Screenshot: Amazon MGM Studios
Published on January 22, 2026
Photo Credit: Brooke Palmer/Paramount+
Published on January 22, 2026
Kurouzucho village, depicted in Junji Ito’s Uzumaki
Kurouzucho village, depicted in Junji Ito’s Uzumaki
Inescapable settings in horror books are often on the smaller scale. For instance, a family are trapped in their bathroom in We Need to Do Something (2020), four friends are trapped on a hilltop in The Ruins (2006), and a group of Boy Scouts are trapped on a small island in The Troop (2014). But some authors have chosen to widen the scope a bit, trapping their characters within the confines of a seemingly normal town. Here are five books that come up with creative ways to make whole towns eerily inescapable, running the gamut from a witch’s curse to the threat of toxic air.

I don’t read all that much manga, but when I heard the premise of Uzumaki I knew I had to give it a go, and I’m so glad I did. Kurôzu-cho is a normal little town in Japan… that is, until an obsession with spirals slowly starts infecting the residents.
Teenagers Kirie Goshima and Shuichi Saito are among the first to take note of the spiral plague, witnessing how plants, buildings, and even people are bending (literally!) to conform to the mesmerizing shape. When it becomes clear that the town is doomed, the few uninfected people remaining try to do what any sensible person would do: leave. But the supernatural spirals have ensured that that isn’t an option.
I would have eaten up a story about malevolent spirals in any format, but Junji Ito’s art really brings the weirdness to life in a horrifying—yet captivating—way. It’s been a few years since I read Uzumaki, but some of the images are still burned into my brain.

Dark Harvest is set in 1963 in a small unnamed Midwestern town that is surrounded by miles of cornfields. For most of the year, this town seems just like any other. But each Halloween, instead of the streets being full of trick-or-treaters, all teenage boys between the ages of sixteen and nineteen are forced to participate in an odd ritual known as the Run. Their goal is to kill Sawtooth Jack—a pumpkin-headed scarecrow monster that comes to life every October 31st.
The boy who manages to spill the creature’s candy innards is handsomely rewarded with cash and, best of all, a ticket out of town. That might not sound like much of a motivational prize, but for anyone with dreams of life beyond the cornfields, it’s the only way to leave. The reasons for this lockdown are a little hazy, but I won’t speculate here so as not to spoil anything.
Although Dark Harvest left with me with a few questions regarding the lore of Sawtooth and the town’s rules, I enjoyed the ride nonetheless. If you can suspend your disbelief just a little more than usual, you’ll be treated to a chilling and fantastical Halloween tale.

Long before the plot of Wool kicks off, an unknown apocalyptic event occurred which resulted in the Earth’s atmosphere becoming toxic to humans. Before the planet’s surface became totally uninhabitable, a few thousand people managed to seek shelter in a vast purpose-built underground silo. Generations have passed since then, with the current residents of the unusual subterranean town having virtually no knowledge of life beyond the 144 levels of the silo.
In the rare instance when someone expresses a desire to go outside, they aren’t actually forced to stay below. No, instead the door is opened for them and everyone watches—there are cameras to monitor conditions on the surface—as they succumb to the deadly air.
Aside from being a fascinating setting, Wool is driven by a sense of mystery, with a few characters endeavoring to uncover the secrets of the silo. As a result, there are twists aplenty peppered throughout this gripping post-apocalyptic story.

Pines might seem like a regular mystery thriller for the bulk of the story, but there’s a sci-fi element lurking there, waiting to be revealed. Our main character is Secret Service agent Ethan Burke, but he doesn’t know that on page one when he wakes up in the small town of Wayward Pines, Idaho, with basically no memory of his life.
Ethan soon recovers and remembers that he’s come to town in search of two missing colleagues, but he can’t shake the feeling that something is off with Wayward Pines, despite its seeming idyllic outward appearance. This feeling turns out to be justified when he tries to leave, only to find that the entire town is encircled by a tall electric fence. But Ethan isn’t easily daunted, and he quickly puts his detective skills to use.
Pines isn’t the kind of book you savor; it’s the kind of book you devour. I found myself flipping the pages at lightning speed to uncover the secrets at the heart of Wayward Pines.

Back in 1664, the residents of Black Spring—a little town in the Hudson Valley—murdered Katherine van Wyler for being a witch. But their act of violence backfired. For more than 300 years, Katherine’s desiccated corpse has wandered the town silently and sightlessly (her mouth and eyes were sewn shut to stop her from casting further spells). Anyone who tries to leave is cursed with a brutal onslaught of suicidal feelings driving them to return, and as a result the residents are essentially chained to Black Spring.
Modern technology has made dealing with the Black Rock Witch a lot easier. The townspeople can now track her movements on their phones, making it easier to not only avoid her, but also to hide her existence from visiting outsiders. But modern technology might also be the town’s downfall, thanks to a group of teens deciding to break the chains of their restricted lives by revealing the witch to the world over the internet.
HEX is a book of contrasts, with old and new being blended to creepy effect. The idea of a seventeenth-century witch existing alongside phones and apps might not sound like it would work, but in Thomas Olde Heuvelt’s hands it absolutely does.
There are, of course, other examples of inescapable towns in horror stories. Stephen King’s Under the Dome (2009) is surely a glaring absence on this list, but I’ve not gotten around to reading it yet. Please feel free to mention any other books I’ve missed in the comments below![end-mark]
The post Five Horror Books Set in Inescapable Towns appeared first on Reactor.
Published on January 22, 2026
Photo credit: Frank William Walsh
Published on January 21, 2026
Published on January 21, 2026
Screenshot: CBS
Published on January 21, 2026
Credit: DC Comics
Published on January 21, 2026
It may be 2026, but I’m not done with last year yet. While doing all my short fiction reading from December, I didn’t intend to but ended up picking ten science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories that mostly include authors I’ve never featured in this spotlight before. There are a couple repeat guests, but it’s been a few years at least since I last had them on. I hope you’re as excited to meet (or re-meet) these authors as I was.
Written in the form of electronic messages between two people, this piece ends up in a surprising place. Andy is on sabbatical and raising his preschool-age daughter. She keeps saying strange things while playing with her toys or at daycare, things that are impossible for her to know. The longer this goes on, the more disconcerting her statements become. Andy reaches out to Carol, who gives him a clue as to what the claims might mean. The truth is even worse. If you’re a mythology nerd like I am, you will probably be able to guess where this story is going, but trust me, it’s worth the ride. (Trollbreath Magazine—Winter 2025; issue 6)
“The first time Mbali swallowed a star, she was five years old. It shimmered above her, small and flickering like an ember dropped from the sky. She thought it was candy. When she opened her mouth, it tumbled down her throat, leaving a trail of silver in its wake.” Mbali drinks the stars in the sky, but this isn’t a horror story. Ultimately, it’s about finding the best in yourself and not letting anyone dim or smother that. I love how this story is written, too. It feels like a folktale. (F(r)iction—Winter 2025; issue 25)
Pietr thinks he’s being held hostage by his two crewmates who have been turned into pod people by an alien hivemind. But what if he’s wrong? Or worse, what if he’s right? El-Koura stages a sci-fi drama that puts trust at the forefront. It’s a fun slice of space opera that feels like an excerpt from a novel. Sadly, this the last ever issue of On Spec. The Canadian magazine was founded in 1989 and has been publishing incredible speculative fiction ever since. It’s won numerous awards over the years, and on a personal note, it is one of those titles I always get really excited to see in my inbox. Fare thee well, On Spec. (On Spec—issue 134)
This is a very weird story, both in content and in structure, so I’m not going to tell you anything except go read it. And kinda disconcerting. It’s a little cyberpunk, a little satire, and a whole lot great. (Baffling—December 2025; issue 22)
What a gorgeously written story. I also don’t want to tell you too much about this piece since it’s so short and the twist in the plot is a gut punch. It’s about children who play in the Darkwood by a cottage and the awful thing that happens to them out there. It’s written from the perspective of one of those children after it happens. It flows like a nightmare or a particularly dark fairy tale, one of those that the Grimm Brothers might have found too unsettling to include. (Augur—#8.3)
“He told you he didn’t like your hair.” In our narrator’s culture, hair is how memories and traditions are passed down the generations. Not that her husband cares. He is from the capital where, from his perspective, they are civilized and don’t have all that wild, untamed hair. She gives into his demands, and it still isn’t enough for him. After reading this story, I thought about the comments white people used to make to me as a child about how my hair was “crazy,” as well as how during slavery Black people would weave patterns and seeds into their hair to guide them when they escaped. I thought about “Kill the Indian, save the man” campaigns meant to forcibly assimilate Indigenous people out of their “savage” ways, and how one of those weapons was cutting off their hair at the boarding schools. And yet, despite all that, our people are still here, still resisting, still holding onto our cultures. (Fantasy Magazine—Winter 2025; issue 99)
Our narrator is from a land that was terrorized by Northern raiders generations ago. Their culture still tells the stories of those years as if they survived the worst humanity had to offer. Now our narrator is joining a sailing party headed North in search of a passage to the other side of the world, as well as sea creatures they plan to hunt and sell. They find the creatures and the Northerners, but things don’t go the way our narrator expects. Wijeyeratne weaves in commentary on capitalism, resource exploitation, and dehumanization. It’s a world that feels just close enough to ours to make the analogy hit hard. (khōréō—volume 5, issue 4)
Madear escapes slavery and makes it as far north as the Territory of Wisconsin. There she gets a little revenge on some white people before she settles into their cabin and builds herself a life. Most people leave her alone, what with the threat of her witchcraft, but not the Indigenous people of the region. The story takes place around the time of Mahkatêwe-meshi-kêhkêhkwa, aka Black Hawk, the Sauk warrior who led a war against the United States in 1832. Lauryn blends real history and fantasy in compelling ways. The characters don’t get a happy ending—if you know anything about this historical era, then Black Hawk’s fate won’t surprise you—but the journey is powerful. (Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction—Summer 2025)
The cast and crew of the telenovela Senhora must be cursed. It ran only for a season in the early 1970s, but had an outsized impact on the television industry. It’s the only thing that explains why they all keep dying in painful ways. We follow a few of these victims through their involvement in the production of Senhora and after, peeking into their lives and the cruelties they meted out to others before their bill came due. It’s a creepy story with a lot of smart things to say about fame. (Nightmare—December 2025; issue 159)
The gig economy gets dark. Well, darker. You are a divorced parent trying to do your best for your 9-year-old daughter. You work random jobs wearing an exo suit called a Hardiman, anything from a courier to a raccoon evictor to hauling heavy objects. The work sucks, but you put up with it because what other choice do you have? A sharp story that isn’t all that far-fetched, exo aside. (Uncanny—December 2025; issue 67)[end-mark]
The post Must Read Short Speculative Fiction: December 2025 appeared first on Reactor.
Published on January 21, 2026
Image: Disney+
Published on January 21, 2026
Published on January 21, 2026
Screenshot: Apple TV
Published on January 21, 2026
Photo: Thom Milkovic [via Unsplash]
Photo: Thom Milkovic [via Unsplash]
Every year, new works come into the public domain (which works those are will depend on the laws of one’s nation). This is true even in the US, where such famous works as The Secret of the Old Clock (the first Nancy Drew mystery), Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon, and (if I have the dates right) Philip Wylie’s Gladiator, the last of which is SF, are newly free. Because by definition these books are all 70+ years old, they are period pieces. This raises the question of whether people taking advantage of their new public domain status should leave them that way.
Some publishers are afraid that if they republish older works, readers will become uncomfortable if they are reminded that the work they are reading is the product of a different era1. I notice this in particular in SF; many older works are set in a future that is no longer a future. So some publishers decide to update out-of-copyright works to reset the works into another, different future. Because they can, and because there’s no way to stop them.
This seems utterly stupid mildly ill-advised to me, but publishers do it.
One catch with updating older works is that it can be tricky to run down every hint pointing to when a book was written. One could, as Frederik Pohl did in the 1981 edition of Cyril Kornbluth’s Not This August2, eliminate details establishing the Commie conquest of America as having happened in 1965, leaving the reader to imagine the events occurred at some point in 1981’s near future. However, the opening passages establish protagonist Billy Justin as being both thirty-seven years old and a Korean War veteran. Assuming Commie-geddon happened in 1982, Justin was born in 1945. He would have been somewhere between five and eight when he served in Korea3, which seems… implausible.
Another catch involves what I like to diplomatically call shameless desecration of a classic not entirely successful creative choices, where in an attempt to bring an old story up to current fashions the writer does the prose equivalent of using a sharpie to draw boobs on the Mona Lisa. Of course, diplomacy prevents me from singling out Fuzzy Nation, Scalzi’s 2011 reboot of Piper’s Little Fuzzy. Instead, I will use as my example the 1967 to 1980 (unauthorized) expurgated edition of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, which by removing without the author’s knowledge certain passages to make the work more acceptable to readers, effectively underlined Bradbury’s point.
For my money, the best answer might be to not update older works at all. Either add ancillary material to help explain the context (the author/the editor/society in general was incredibly racist! And/or sexist! The author was a chain-smoker who was paid by the word, so every time the author took a puff, so did their protagonist! The author’s thousand-dollar-a-day cocaine habit was not the creative asset the author thought it was!4). If that’s not sufficient—and I can easily think of works where it won’t be, where removing the objectionable bits would leave not much text beyond the author’s name and some bits of punctuation—maybe it’s best to accept that the work is unsalvageable for commercial publishing. Let Project Gutenberg preserve it as an ebook.
Still, many authors like playing with other authors’ toys, thus the thriving world of fan fiction. Updating isn’t doomed to fail. What seems to work best, as far as I can tell, is tearing the older works down to their studs and rebuilding on those essentials.
The two examples that come to mind are both from the comics world, in part because one of them is the comic book that initially inspired this chain of thought. DC Comics, for example, didn’t update such Golden Age characters as Jay “the Flash” Garrick, Alan “Green Lantern” Scott, and Carter “Hawkman” Hall5. They took the core conceits and created new characters around them.
Likewise, that seems to be how Peach Momoko is tackling her Ultimate X-Men. Her characters definitely have resonances with established characters, but they aren’t simply the old versions of the characters wearing Japanese schoolgirl uniforms.
Still, being as I am (very nearly) eligible for Ontario’s Drug Benefit Program, perhaps my views are as much a period piece as the books that just hit the public domain. Are there examples of successful updating? Feel free to recommend them in comments.[end-mark]
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︎The post Adventures in the Public Domain: On Updating Out-of-Copyright Works appeared first on Reactor.
Published on January 21, 2026
Credit: Warner Bros.