eSteampunk Vol. 01 No. 01
Contents
The Heart and
Soul of Steampunk:
Tales of
Airship Neverland
The Collector
The Airships of 1776
Preacher’s Story
The Clicking Eye
Dead Mule Crossing
Drinking Down Death
Origins
About the Cover Artist
Story of the Month
Contributors
Editor-in-Chief Doug Lance
Managing Editor Mandy Alyss Brown
Associate Editors S.A. Kyle, Lisa Finch, Taylor Longnecker
Copy Editor Preston McConkie
Editorial Intern Brandon Todd Bachman
Readers Suzanne Conboy-Hill, Lori Lopez, Mandi Ontis
eSteampunk is a monthly fiction publication. The editors accept manuscripts online. To review our guidelines or submit a manuscript, please visit http://eFictionMag.com/Submissions. Correspondence may be sent to Mandy@eFictionMag.com.
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Visit us online at www.efictionmag.com.
ISBN: 978-1-4659-3279-2
ASIN: B004UD88K2
Copyright © 2012 eFiction Publishing
Contents
Short Stories
The Collector: A Steampunk Fable Meg Kingston
The Airships of 1776 David Wright
Preacher’s Story Jim Herbert
Dead Mule Crossing O.M. Grey
Drinking Down Death Jeff Young
Poetry
The Clicking Eye Charl Landsberg
Non-Fiction
The Heart and Soul of Steampunk:
A Beginner’s Crash Course Neal F. Litherland
Tales of Airship Neverland
Reviewing an Airship Nominee Mandy Alyss Brown
Origins Jarosław Janikowski
The Heart and
Soul of Steampunk:
A Beginner’s Crash Course
Neal F. Litherland
Steampunk has become something of a buzzword among fans of science fiction, anachronism, and alternate history over the past few years. Though it has been around at least since the 1980s, for most people the genre is very hard to define. Is Steampunk just a sub-genre of fiction? Is it a fashion style? Is it an attitude? The answer is yes. Steampunk is all of these things, and more besides. But it’s easier to begin at the beginning.
The Definition of Steampunk
Steampunk is characterized as a form of fiction in which the level of technological development hasn’t progressed past the steam era, but where historical anachronisms, mad science, and, occasionally, magic are used to mimic modern or futuristic mechanical achievements. For example, maybe an aeronaut builds a jet pack with boiler parts, or an army engineer invents a weapon that fires bolts of lightning rather than lead shot to clinch a quick victory in a war. The genre also tends to focus on the culture and fashions of the Victorian and steam ages, with waistcoats, monocles, corsets, walking sticks and the prim and proper language of period English to lend authenticity to the tales. Often the less savory aspects of the period, such as rampant filth, poor personal hygiene, sexism, and racism are toned down or eliminated.
It sounds complicated, doesn’t it? Unfortunately, overly technical definitions of what the genre is or isn’t aren’t very useful because of how fluid it can be, and all of the different aspects it has. For instance, books that are set in a post-apocalypse where older forms of technology and invention have arisen may be considered Steampunk. On the same note, books that create an alternative history filled with unusual inventions by prominent figures like Nikola Tesla or Ned Buntline are also creating a Steampunk story. The best way to figure out if what you’re reading is Steampunk is to look at some of the more prominent examples from the genre.
Examples of Steampunk
Perhaps one of the biggest examples of famous Steampunk comes from the graphic novel “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.” Written by Alan Moore, this story chronicles the adventures of Victorian-era characters like Henry Jekyll and his alter ego, Edward Hyde, Mina Harker, Alan Quartermain, and Captain Nemo as they attempt to stop a threat that has every country at each others’ throats. Another famous example is the novel and animation “Howl’s Moving Castle,” which includes, as the title might suggest, a flying castle as well as a variety of other steam driven machines and miracles that would seem fantastical even to modern eyes. These stories, along with books like the alternative WWII By the Blood of Heroes, the popular young adult, alternative-world military novel Leviathan, and the horror collection Ghosts by Gaslight all have some of the most recognizable aspects of Steampunk.
Many of the modern works of Steampunk draw heavily on original works of science fiction from the Victorian period and various authors: Wells, Robert Louis Stephenson, Edgar Allen Poe, Jules Verne, Bram Stoker, and even Mary Shelley. It’s also not uncommon to see the same MacGuffins from these classic tales showing up in modern Steampunk stories, or to have characters from these classics mentioned in passing as an Easter egg for readers. For instance, a doctor might reference the experiments of Victor Frankenstein, or there may be an article in a publication by Dr. Henry Jekyll. There may be rumors of vampires in London that coincide with Dracula’s arrival, or a passing mention of the disappearance of a prominent scientist that claimed he could travel in time.
Beneath The Skin
Steampunk has a very particular look, but there’s more to this genre than the clothes it’s dressed up in. A popular song called “Just Glue Some Gears On It” was written, and enjoys regular popularity, by pointing out that a lot of writers, costumers and others will simply slap some brass gears onto something so they can call it Steampunk. But there’s more to this unique brand of science fiction than gears, goggles and brass geegaws.
The beating heart of Steampunk is the synergy of adventure and romanticism. Not necessarily romance (that’s its own genre), but the notions of a romantic period in history. Steampunk is about brave explorers and genius scientists, each pushing the bounds of the known in the search for the next great frontier. Steampunk is about chasing mysteries down dark alleys and fighting wars in the trenches. It’s about heroes and villains, and about what makes people good or what turns them bad. Is magic just science we don’t understand? Are there limits man was not meant to push past? Are there true monsters in the world, and are they worse than what lies in the heart of man? Steampunk asks these and other big questions about the universe and about humanity, and it asks these questions while pulling elements of fantasy, science fiction, and horror into one, big genre mash up.
Tales of
Airship Neverland
Reviewing an Airship Nominee
Mandy Alyss Brown
Nominated for Steamcon IV’s Airship Award in Writing this year, John R. White’s Tales of Airship Neverland: a Steampunk Fairy Tale offers readers an incredible adventure inspired by J.M. Barrie’s Peter and Wendy. In White’s tale, Grand Admiral Winifred Darling and her comrades must return Peter P.A.N. to his rightful throne, defeat the usurper and Pirate King, James “Hook” Hooker, and stop Nikola Tesla from destroying their world. White weaves a political world of science, sexism, witchcraft, and power struggles in his first book in the Neverland trilogy.
While an amatuer writer uses another story to prop up his or her writing, John White presents his readers with an entirely new tale, sprinkled with references to its inspiration. Airship Neverland doesn’
t require its readers to have first hand knowledge of Peter and Wendy in order to follow the plot nor does it use J.M. Barrie’s writing as a crutch. Instead, White tastefully alludes to the classic, paying homage to the writer without compromising the plot. I instantly made the connection when Hooker sees “shadows” in the corners of the King’s throne room in Chapter 3. I didn’t find it forced when a character is turned into a dog in Chapter 12. And it felt completely natural when a drunk Peter slurs, “Never gonna grow up” in Chapter 47. Allusions to Peter and Wendy were hidden like treasures in the text for me to find, which only added to my adventure through Airship Neverland.
In addition to these allusions, White writes clever lines that add humor to the story. A character finds in Chapter 2 that she “[has] gone and gotten herself with child.” Her lover “had put one shot too many across her bow, as it were.” In Chapter 18 there is a humorous conversation between Peter and the bartender as Peter contemplates his insanity and states he hopes to be promoted to “raving lunatic” soon. “It’s good to have goals,” the bartender adds. These and other humourous scenes actually brought out vocal chuckles from me while I read, which is rare. These bits of humor help to act as a counterweight to moments of intense action or emotion.
And I found the action and emotions to be intense indeed. I went from the depths of burning hell to the sorrow of separated lovers with each turn of the page. White’s battle scenes are filled with kidnapping Indians, a shapeshifting witch, a pistol bearing pope, Tesla robots, and more. His airship and naval battles are gripping, and often the scenes consumed me, leaving me exhausted after each chapter and surprised to look at my clock and see how much time had passed.
While I found White’s tale to be superb, he has a plethora of characters, and I sometimes had difficulty following the story, distracted trying to remember each character in White’s grand chess game. Airship Neverland does have a list of character names and quick descriptions at the very beginning in order to combat this. However, this list didn’t remedy the situation for me as I had to repeatedly refer back to it. It became particularly jarring to check this list while using my e-reader.
I found that errors within the text also hindered the flow. In Chapter 2, Peter is a “squirming toddler” presented to his people as the new P.A.N. and heir. A chapter later, Peter’s father tells another character that it’s his son’s fourth birthday. At first I thought this was simply a shift in time I had missed, but then as Windy and her companions hide Peter in an orphanage in Chapter 15, Peter is a baby again. This and the numerous punctuation and grammar mistakes could have been avoided with a more thorough editorial sweep, but while these mistakes detract from the overall presentation and flow of Airship Neverland, they did not consistently hinder my understanding of what was going on.
My main annoyance with White’s writing is his lack of trust in his own ability. I felt that White often wrote the subtext of a scene rather than trust his writing to lead me to these conclusions. This isn’t to say that White didn’t lead me to them, but rather in Airship Neverland, he lacked the trust that I had reached them. For instance, in Chapter 1 the reader is introduced to James Hooker, and the sole survivor of Hooker’s attack is left stranded in the water with a lifeboat. He repeats the name of Hooker’s ship over and over again. Rather than trust that I gathered the subtext of the moment — that this man is memorizing the name of the ship to later claim justice — White writes, “He swore to God he would survive. Not for himself, but for them.” For me, this last line of subtext zapped power out of the image of a young man huddled in a lifeboat, muttering the name of the Jolly Roger to himself as innocent men, women, and children scream among the burning remains of their ship. I found White’s images are powerful and easily understood them, but his tendency to write subtext annoyed me as they didn’t add to the these scenes. This, however, tends to be a common learning curve for writers, and as the Airship Neverland trilogy continues, it’s likely that White will become more comfortable in his writing technique. It certainly won’t keep me from reading the next book.
Tales of Airship Neverland: a Steampunk Fairy Tale is a marvelous beginning to the Neverland trilogy. Available on the Kindle and the Nook for $7.99 or in paperback for $19.50, this adventure is well worth the investment. The next two books, Tales of Airship Neverland: Captain Hook & the Pirates of Mars and Tales of Airship Neverland: Dust and Ash, are sure to be just as thrilling and adventurous. You can follow John White’s progress and the Neverland trilogy at http://airshipneverland.com/.
Mandy Brown was given a free copy of this book for an honest review. Neither she nor eSteampunk was compensated or promised anything in exchange.
The Collector
A Steampunk Fable
Meg Kingston
October, 1880
Off the coast of West Africa
“Faster, you sooty little halfwits!” shouted Alaric Stent, his words drowned by yells from the shore as tribesmen ran from the trees and onto the beach.
The fleeing Englishman looked over his shoulder to see the first figures splashing into the waves. Wooden spears flew into the water behind the little boat. When his rowers paused, he bellowed more abuse. As they drew alongside the Graciousness, Stent threw his kitbag over the rail and grabbed the ladder. He swore again at the two men struggling to steady their fishing boat as he pulled himself up and away.
“Take my hand, sir.” Caulfield leaned over the rail, reaching down precariously.
“Don’t be a fool,” shouted Stent. “Tell them to get up a head of steam and fetch my rifle!”
Caulfield hesitated for a heartbeat, grimaced at the bos’n standing behind him, and dashed towards the ship’s cabin.
By the time his master stood on the deck, Caulfield had returned with the Charles Lancaster, loaded both barrels, and handed it to the shorter man.
Stent pushed his floppy blond hair back and brought the rifle to his ear, balancing cautiously on the shifting deck. He aimed calmly and squeezed the trigger, just as the bos’n cried, “No, sir!”
The bullet hit the retreating boat amidships on the waterline and the craft pitched violently. Stent calmly re-aimed and let off a second shot that hit the rocking canoe two inches below the first hole. One of the rowers screamed and jumped up, but Stent was already turning away.
“Sir?” said the bos’n.
“That’s the only seaworthy boat they’ve got,” he said gruffly. “Can’t have them boarding us.”
“Or fishing,” muttered the bos’n to no-one in particular as the small boat began to sink. Both natives dived into the open water, the taller one leaving a trail of blood. The bos’n watched the men swim towards the land, one helping the other, and he wondered if the sharks they’d seen that morning were watching, too.
“All haste to London,” Stent snapped at the bos’n, handing the smoking rifle to his manservant.
The mariner looked offended. “Steam’s getting up, sir. Trust Her Imperial Graciousness to get ye home fas’er than any ship in the Empire.”
“She’d better. I’m paying for your speed, not the ship’s stupid name.”
He turned away, ignoring the bos’n’s furious expression.
“Caulfield, wind the lantern and prepare my cabin!” he snapped over his shoulder. The manservant, carrying the rifle, didn’t say anything, just hurried to open the door to his master’s cabin. The interior was draped in dark curtains, making it as dark as a cave, though much hotter. Unusually for a ship, it was furnished with a solid bed and a comfortable leather armchair. A large sea-chest sat against the wall and above it hung a brass lantern, slightly larger than usual for such apparatus, with cloudy glass made of prisms like a perverse miniature lighthouse. A key projected from the top and Caulfield tested that this was fully wound before removing it.
Stent settled in the large leather chair and extracted a cloth bundle f
rom inside his heavy, linen shirt. Caulfield waited, holding the lantern while his master unrolled the bundle to reveal an uncut sapphire the size of a man’s fist, bright greenish-blue in the late afternoon sunlight from the open doorway.
“The tri-polar lantern, Mister Stent,” said Caulfield, handing it to the seated man before closing the cabin door and letting the heavy blackout curtain fall over it.
All was quiet for a moment, except for the ship’s creaking and the engines’ throbbing below deck. A loud clunk shattered the silence, followed by a hollow clockwork tocking which echoed around the room. An unearthly, flickering light appeared in the lantern in Stent’s hand, grew brighter, and then caught on the uncut gem in his other hand. Instantly, swirls of brilliant patterns in all shades of blue and green appeared around the room and danced in time with the mechanical sounds. They lit the man’s face with a glow that didn’t belong in this world and maybe not in the next. The lights grew brighter, more intensely coloured, and somehow less real as the sound increased until, without warning, the last tock sounded and the light display vanished into the æther.
Stent sighed like a man sated. Caulfield remained motionless for a long moment, not even breathing, until his master moved — the slightest shuffle of a foot. The manservant breathed out quietly and lifted the curtain from the door, allowing the thinnest ray of evening light to seep around its tight-fitting wooden solidity. The man in the chair had collapsed back into it, his fingers still holding the precious stone and the now-spent tri-polarising lantern. Caulfield took both objects, placing them carefully in the soft cloths inside the sea-chest before helping his somnolent master to stand and prepare for sleep.