Book Review: We Are Always Tender With Our Dead by Eric LaRocca

 

We Are Always Tender With Our Dead by Eric LaRocca (Burnt Sparrow #1)

 304 pages, Hardcover
Published September, 2025 by Titan Books

Podcast interview on the way...

Eric first got on my radar when we both had Clash Books releases near each other.  I kinda know that Eric LaRocca is like some Brundle-fly mix of Brite, Koja, and Barker, but since I have been reading more SF and retro SF, I have mostly been reading horror by close friends, folks who were already in my rotation. I kept meaning to return to LaRocca, and then Titan sent me an arc for this one. Perfect timing because I had peeped this on the staff picks shelf at Mysterious Galaxy only a few weeks before it arrived.

Right or wrong, the idea I got was that this was more gothic than most of LaRocca’s catalog. He has won the Splatterpunk award because he writes disturbing books that are known for weird transgressive energy that drag body horror through the pain of alienation and often give voice to marginalized characters.

This one has a small-town horror vibe, it feels extra uncomfortable in all the right ways. Burnt Sparrow is a subversive work, delightfully weird. Influenced by Malcolm McDowell’s Blackwater trilogy. LaRocca has the confidence to blend strong influence with finding his own voice.  So if you trust and don’t want to hear me get into the details know this a fantastic horror novel and comes highly recommended.

Burnt Sparrow is an isolated New Hampshire town (they all are right?) that in the early 2000’s is victim to horrific crime. We spend most of the book opening in the eyes of Rupert Cromwell. He is an awkward kid, who is surviving abuse at home from his father and the trauma of not fitting in to the small town.

Rupert is rightly shocked when he and his father are given the very surreal gig of watching over the bodies of the victims of the massacre. The town is reacting that way because the victims were killed by three faceless supernatural forces, leading to paranoid fears of angering god or the supernatural forces behind everything.

“Heart hammers away inside his chest, thumping like a brick being slammed against concrete again and again.

He's never seen a dead body before. Not even his mother's when she perished. His father was careful to keep her corpse hidden from Rupert's sight, and he was grateful for that.”

Rupert’s journey through the novel is paralleled by the greater mystery and the strange events that keep happening. Some subtle and some as LaRocca is known to do – Extreme. The balance is carefully rolled out. For all the talk of extreme transgression in LaRocca’s work this novel is carefully and thoughtfully constructed.

Consider the scene when he finds a bird with a human face.

“Before he talks himself out of it, he ladles the tiny bird from the ground. It's small enough to fit inside the palm of his hand. He gazes at it for a moment, wondering what's to be done. He could squeeze it tight inside his first and all of this would be over. He could pretend to be God like for a moment, to decide the fate of another living thing. But Rupert has never held such cruel aspirations before. Why would he start now?

He dumps a small bird with a human face into his coat pocket and allows it to settle there for a moment when it cries, eventually weakens, and it seems to soften inside the warmth of the comfort-lined pouch.”

Rupert’s relationship with his father makes up much of the emotional core of the novel, while the murder and the supernatural events will make the most noise in most reviews; that is not what hooked me. Sure LaRocca brings the gruesome, weird,. and ugly moments, but the novel’s most disturbing moment doesn’t work without that core.

“He knew his father was capable of horrific, monstrous things.

But nothing like this.”

Rupert watching his father’s necrophilia is the perfect example of this.

“Rupert's father holds her with such tenderness, such carefulness. A crude imitation of love and affection he once showed Rupert's mother. Rupert's hands tightened to fists, almost about to knock down the door and push inside to chastise and berate his father but he can't do it. He can't bring himself to even go another second gazing at his father while he lies there with his arms wrapped around a corpse that could never return the same love, the same fondness, the same softness and warmth.”

We Are Always Tender with our Dead is a fantastic opening part to a trilogy that likely, in the future, will be thought of as a single piece. LaRocca has written a transgressive gothic, small-town horror that honors those splatterpunk roots but does not rely on it. A shoo-in for a top ten read of the year when the dust settles.

 

 

Book Review: The Fist of Memory by Wole Talabi

 

 Fist of Memory by Wole Talabi

416 pages, Hardcover
Expected publication: October 27, 2026 by DAW

I don’t remember where I first heard of this book. As science fiction writers along the way Wole Talbi and I got connected on Facebook and Blue Sky. I have not read his first novel, Shigi and Brass Head of Obalufon, which he describes as an urban fantasy inspired by the Nigerian culture he grew up in. I know why I was interested, as I have had a long-standing affection for all things Nigerian SF, and not just Nnedi Okorafor, although she is fantastic; Goliath by Tochi Onyebuchi was one of my absolute favorite reads of 2022.

Another Nigerian SF writer was welcome for sure. The Fist of Memory didn’t disappoint; the best way I think to describe it might be John Woo meets Arthur C. Clarke in Africa. It is certainly one of my favorite books I have read this year. A bullet opera that manages to combine a first contact story, noir, African cyberpunk, and hints of African magic.

The novel has storylines and elements that seem unconnected but weave together at the end. That said, the woman at the center of the story is Tope.

“Here's the thing about killing people; I don't like it, but I'm good at it.

That's why I'm perched on a dusty rooftop, ensconced in an electromagnetic reflection bubble, patiently waiting to kill reverend Dr. Clement Osagie.”

The novel opens in the point of view of this assassin, but after that Talabi intentionally breaks the rules, by telling the other chapters in third person. I admit this choice rattled me at first. Anyone who reads my reviews knows I am not a fan of first person. This was an interesting choice that I assume was made to signal the importance of Tope. I am sure we will talk about it during the interview for the podcast (coming soon)

She is involved in an excellent cat-and-mouse story with another assassin who works for a criminal boss/ witch doctor Baba. The story of a contract killing gone wrong is like a power chord that a portion of this novel is structured on.

At this point, you might be wondering when this becomes a SF novel…

“It is.” Daniel sighs. But maybe it's for the best. We don't have the luxury of curiosity or time period; whatever this object is, it is already within the orbit of Jupiter, and even if it keeps decelerating, which we can't be certain that it will, we don't know what its final velocity will be. Every minute we spend gathering data and debating our options reduces the chance of success even further. We may not know what it is, but we know it poses an existential threat.”

A South African Astronomer named Itumeleng has discovered an object coming from interstellar space toward earth. It is clearly a spacecraft, changing direction.  Itumeleng doesn’t have to be convinced as the craft seems to be communicating with him and only him, at first through his dreams.

This Itumeleng storyline in the first few chapters it seems like a different story, but the threads come together. Once we get back into the Tope story the action picks up. We get some really interesting details about her employer Baba, and the politics of this future Nigeria when Tope appears to be hired by her target. Once she starts making choices there are consequences.

“This is trouble.

Heat rises behind my eyes. Reaching under my seat with my right hand to retrieve my Beretta, I see three men clamor out of the Mercedes. Their jerky, uncoordinated movements indicate intoxication. They are wearing crude handmade masks, and new, clean tactical body armor is obviously stolen like the classic cars.

Armed robbers.

The kind that park in the bushes with EM scramblers, smoking ganja, drinking ogooro, and chewing kola, waiting for motorists to waylay like trolls hiding under a bridge.”

The mix of African cyberpunk elements and the very Hong Kong film killer makes for a very interesting turn on the bullet opera. Tope being a woman, a fierce one creates some of the excellent dynamics.

“Man, woman, fish, or ugwa leaf, I don’t give a fuck what you are; you think you can come kill our oga like that abi?”

Eventually, Top and Itumeleng meet in the story, as you would expect; humanity tries to destroy the spacecraft, but as you can imagine, that doesn’t save the day.

“Yeah. Turns out panicking and firing shalligram was a waste of time. Or perhaps the attack prompted it to change plan. Either way, after that crazy maneuver, its deceleration rate dropped. Simulations now show a ninety-nine percent chance of gravitational capture.” She'd gone from frantic to angry to crying and back to frantic again.

“Itumeleng, I think it's very clear now this isn't some random object, or a missile hurled at us by a dangerous intelligence. That movement, the way it evaded shalligram, it's almost certainly a piloted alien craft. You know what this means, don't you?”

Well, I didn’t know what this meant because the third act came as a big shock. The third act is earned, and certainly enough happens in the closing chapters for an entire novel. The ending is also similar to a recent TV show (They couldn’t have known of each other).

The Fist of Memory is a fantastic career-defining sophomore novel. Wole Talabi has lived with this novel a long time and it feels like it. It is wonderfully thought-out. As a structure guy, I love how wonderfully plotted this feels. One of the best new releases I have read for sure.

-DA 

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Book Review: Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It by Cory Doctorow

 

Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What to Do About It
by Cory Doctorow     

338 pages, Hardcover
Published October, 2025 by MCD

Short but thoughtful review on the way. 

Book Review: TV 2000 Edited by Issac Asimov, Martin H. Greenberg, Charles G. Waugh

 

TV 2000 Edited by Issac Asimov,  Martin H. Greenberg,  Charles G. Waugh

352 pages, Mass Market Paperback
Published January, 1982 by Fawcett Crest

 Important commentary on the year 2000

*Will be expanded into a longer Amazing Stories column*

Lets head to the future. The faaaaar future of the year 2000 (Sing it in your best falsetto. This book was published the same year ET and Blade Runner came out, and it had an 18-year runway. My copy, has been on my shelf only about five years. The book is not an experiment to project what TV would look like in 2000, although that would have been a worthy experiment, and interesting in a different way.

Compiled in the early 80s by Issac Asimov, Charles G Waugh and master anthologist Martin Harry Greenberg, I am assuming grabby Asimov mostly lent his name and wrote the introduction, none the less this is an important collection. The stories range from the 50s when TV was barely a thing to the 60s and 70s. So as I read each story I found myself looking to the credits to figure out what year each piece was published.

Asimov opens the book with an essay, and the book is divided into two parts. The control of TV and the content. Asimov lays out the intention of the book with the quick essay, in some cases giving his thoughts on the stories he finds most important. He rightly points out that before the genre had a name Hugo Gernsbeck was writing about Television, even using the term, although Telephotes never happened.

The Asimov story is one of the better ones of his I have read from 1955. In this story, TV is not made by writers and directors but “Dreamers,”  “Well, I don't know. Dreamers are hard to come by, I hear.”

“They are. They are. But your son Mr. Slutsky is not a dreamer yet. He might never be. $500 a year is a gamble for us. It's not a gamble for you. When he's finished school, it may turn out he's a dreamer, yet you've lost nothing. You've gained maybe $4000 altogether. If he is a dreamer, he'll make a nice living and you certainly haven't lost then.”

            This reminded me of Ken Liu’s recent novel about AI and influencers called “All That We see or Seem.” This a cool idea.

            Underrated writer William Tenn (pen name for Philip Klass – who mentored David Morrell, I believe) comments on advertising written in 1951. “History can be as dangerous as a traffic accident; it can happen to people. And 'cause even more damage. One fine day about the year 2208, say a bright cheerful and maybe too smart for his own good young man wakes up to find he's tripped over his cleverest idea and crashed into a brand new age.”

            A way back when, early in the 1900s, people began listening to record players instead of trudging off to vaudeville theater through cold and wet. Later, in the radio era, most top-level executives were finding dictaphones more efficient than human stenographers and mechanical sorters better than an army of file clerks. At the peak of the television boom, every bride dreamed of owning a vocal axe kitchen someday that would exactly obey her most casual command to heat a roast for such and such a time and base it at such and such intervals.

With deluxe models, of course, came a set of flavor fix Rheostats which, among other talents, could mix salads according to the recipe of a famous chef slightly better than the chef could himself. Then along came all-purpose radar broadcast power; Television went three-dimensional and became tildar inexpensive enough so that every Eskimo could own a set and incidentally, the only industry where an actor might make a living.”

While this passage is super dated, there are several things I love about it. Tenn’s story The Jester is one of the most charming stories, very funny and written so early in the existence of TV.

The only story in the collection I had read before was the short but interesting piece “The Idea,” by Barry Malzberg. Maybe I am biased because I interviewed Barry twice, but this weird one caused me to re-read it twice, thinking what did I miss? Similar to reading R.C. Matheson’s Red. After reading it for a third time, I felt stupid. Howard pitches an educational TV, and with every person he pitches it to, the idea gets manipulated into a less truthful piece with the executive. Really smart story.

One of the predictive stories is Theodore Sturgeon’s “…and now the News.” It is about news overload; in a way predicts doomscrolling. Frank Herbert’s story is about how quick TV can spread information; wait till he hears about the internet.

Perhaps the best, most predictive story is Damon Knight’s 1976 story “I See You,” that slyly predicts more than TV but how neighbors spy on each other through social media. “The viewer is your babysitter, your television your telephone(the telephone lines are still up, but they are only used as signaling devices; when you know somebody wants to talk to you, you focus your viewer on him, your library your school. Before pub,erty you watch other people having sex but even your curiosity is easily satisfied after an older cousin initiates you at fourteen; you are much more interested in doing it yourself. The Co-op teacher monitors your studies, sometimes make suggestions, but more and more as you grow older leaves you leaves you to your own devices. You are intensely interested in African prehistory, in the European theater, and in the anti-civilization of Epsilon Eridani 4. Soon you will have to choose.”

It starts with watching neighbors but turns into watching everything.

TV 2000 is more of an artifact than it is a good anthology. There are a couple skippers for sure. Anyone interested in look at the back history of the genre. The way the genre predicted TV is fascinating, and with hindsight of all these years even more interesting still. 

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