Amplitudes:
Stories of Queer and Trans Futurity
Edited by Lee Mandelo
Paperback
ISBN: 978-1645660866
Erewhon, May 2025, 384 pgs
Some readers may know Lee Mandelo from his recently lauded books Summer Sons (Tordotcom, September 2021), Feed Them Silence (Tordotcom, March 2023), and The Woods All Black (Tordotcom, March 2024). If you’ve had your eye on speculative magazines for a little while, you will have caught his short fiction in Apex, Uncanny, our own Nightmare, and other notable venues. You might have read the issues of Strange Horizons he guest-edited in July 2016, collectively called “Our Queer Planet;” and if you were as ravenous for short stories as I have always been, you might have grabbed a copy of the anthology he edited for Lethe in 2012: Beyond Binary: Genderqueer and Sexually Fluid Speculative Fiction. All of this is to say that if you know his career the way I do, then you were probably just as excited as I was to hear about Amplitudes.
What is particularly enjoyable about this book is that it offers a range of perspectives and experiences from a spectrum of authors, including newer folks, multi-award winners, and everyone in-between. I appreciate deeply that this isn’t exclusively “bestselling authors;” at the same time, the quality of the work will not disappoint readers. I’ll discuss a handful of stories as a sample of what’s in store. That said, you could crack this anthology open anywhere. Jump right in! You will be very happy.
“Copper Boys” by Jamie McGhee is a fantastic story about isolation and loneliness and the unexpected. In a near-ish post climate disaster future, Kit is among a handful of individuals who cut trees in the Appalachians to promote healthy regrowth. The circumstances leave precious few romantic or sexual options. And while it may seem to some like an outdated situation in the current era of dating apps, the fact is, many people will immediately relate to being in a group of people but having very few or even no romantic prospects. Things get complicated when Rex, who is in the same group of tree cutters, but who is very much not Kit’s type, suddenly has a dating profile that shows up on “the app”…. Kit has to deal with the uncertainty of a possibility that may not exist and may not be wanted, a situation exacerbated by the fact that they both have a generally reticent communication style. While Kit navigates whether or not something could, or should, happen between them, the reader is treated to clear but deft worldbuilding. The specific character choices and the kind of work they are doing is rarely seen in post-disaster fiction, rendering a well-trod setting type into something innovative. McGhee is great with dialogue and interactions, and there is plenty of subtext for folks who read more closely. Sure, I saw the ending coming, but the story still proved relatable, touching, and effective. Moreover, McGhee examines relationship aspects that are too rarely examined—thoughtful readers will find themselves thinking about the questions this piece raises long after they’ve finished the story. This is the impact of great fiction.
Wen-yi Lee’s “They Will Give Us a Home” gets points for being more imaginative than many stories out there, particularly in extrapolating the socioeconomic systems of today into a near future. This one has a strong, strange opening, depicting someone in a marriage that is so fraught the couple has separate rooms, and the point of view character actually locks the husband out. Worse, the first thing we see is the husband trying the doorknob, turning it in an attempt to get in. I want to say it’s a brilliant technique using exaggeration to create a captivating moment, but given what I know about divorce rates and domestic violence, I’m not sure that it’s an exaggeration. It’s still brilliant though: the setup succeeds in being gripping and compelling. The sci-fi catch? When the couple is in public, they have to put up a show of marital solidarity, or they might lose their very lovely home. In this future, who you are and what you do, and so many things about you (what your relationships look like, if you seem happy, if you have friends or not, as a few examples), have a direct and immediate impact on where you get to live. Imagine if your social media profile had an immediate impact on your “score,” which affected if you got to live in a beautiful apartment in a high rise, or if you were relegated to slums. The setting is a near-enough future (I think) and the stakes are high enough that people in the story will even fake pregnancies (or marry the wrong person) to not end up in a tiny and terrible living situation. This serves as an effective metaphor for so many things we deal with today. Bonus: the storytelling is wonderful, and the details incorporate crowding, ecology, social media, social stratification, socioeconomics, the uneven demands on genders, and more—making all of these factors important to our main character, who is struggling to do the best they can. The narrative is also an exploration of the misery people experience when forced to pretend they are something that they are not; worse, when they feel utterly imprisoned by the situation, even though everyone they encounter is oblivious to their misery. The author ratchets up the desperation and messiness as things progress, and brings the narrative to unexpected and really interesting places. Fantastic writing!
“Forever Won’t End Like This” by Dominique Dickey is a deeply moving piece which uses metanarrative as a framing device to discuss or examine happiness and personal meaning. Ted is an actor who is in a TV show, one which is loosely put together and produced on the cheap. There is an element here of self-awareness about fandom and one’s favorite shows, which is beautifully portrayed through lines that say things like “It isn’t good, but it’s one of the best.” So many of my own favorite shows come to mind! Through this framing, we get the fantasy TV show’s narrative itself, layered with Ted’s life-narrative, which is a pretty clever way to deliver a story within the story. I am reminded of Ruoxi Chen’s excellent “Fandom For Witches” in Fantasy Magazine’s October 2023 issue, which also uses metanarrative about TV show fandom but from the fan perspective. The tone of the story within the story here—the delivery of the descriptions of the show—is familiar and straightforward, feeling conversational. It’s a great way to short cut things, avoiding needless exposition, and the voice is fairly endearing—similar to hearing a confession, in its odd intimacy and frankness. And while Ted describes the fantasy show’s narrative as being “not good,” Dickey actually puts together a TV show narrative which is easily imagined and pretty interesting on its own. What’s even more important is what the show means to Ted, particularly the way that the show has transformed Ted’s place in the world. Ted has become something of a beacon, someone who is important to certain communities, and this has given his life a certain kind of meaning. He’s not perfect, and he doesn’t consider himself iconic, he doesn’t take it to somewhere we would hate. At the same time, his sober understanding of what he is to people is a refreshing consideration of what it means to be a public figure. When the show is canceled, Ted has to reckon with the feelings that arise, including what his life means without it. While Ted is thinking on that, the reader can ponder all kinds of nuances, such as the way certain kinds of characters are sacrificed in TV shows or movies, and the way that those sacrifices impact the people involved in the show, as well as the communities and their members who need to see those characters. There are so many worthy points of discussion for this story. It is a testament to Dickey’s skill that the piece can do so much, while still landing as emotionally heartfelt and touching, rather than didactic or theoretical. Superb work.
“Fettle and Sunder” by Ramez Yoakeim seems especially important in the current era of rights being granted and then rescinded, and pockets of the US seeming to lean brazenly into fascist ideologies and behaviors. This story depicts a couple in a situation they both feel is dangerous, as changes in the political landscape have increased the chances of violence visiting their home. It’s a near-ish future but it’s a situation that many marginalized folks today are all too familiar with. As happens often in real life, the two have different ideas about what they should do. One wants to not only to leave the country, but the entire Earth, joining the wealthy folks who’ve recently established a city-sized space station in orbit; the other feels like political movements come and go, the threat to their existence rises and wanes (never completely gone, mind you, but sometimes less likely), and that they should stay and wait it out. As the couple gets into things, it turns out that what they want as people is in conflict, not just in what kinds of environments they feel are right for them; even their spiritual views are different enough that they can be a point of friction. The tension is palpable as events escalate, but the fact remains that neither sees the other’s solution as something that really works. On the other hand, neither sees being apart as a solution. It’s a timeless kind of story, unfortunately, because hate and violence seem to be ongoing and timeless. It’s also a timely story, and independently of the timing lining up with current events, it’s a strong story, full of moments that feel grounded in the real, as well as elements to ponder. The plot may speak to the tendency of peace and community to be swept away in cycles of othering and violence, but don’t be fooled: ultimately, this is a love story. It’s about the strength of commitment, and the power of love and family.
If somehow you haven’t been enticed by this sample set, despite the seriously stellar fiction I’ve just described, I’ll drop a few names for you: Sarah Gailey, Sam J. Miller, Neon Yang, Meg Elison, and more have stories in this book. Amplitudes features twenty-two stories by authors who know what they are doing, folks who have something to say, and know how to say it in a way which will draw you in, engage you, and entertain you. Mandelo has proven his editorial ability yet again. If he puts out more anthologies in the future, I will be eager to get a copy.
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