Forged in FIYAH
DaVaun Sanders, ed.
Hardcover/Paperback/Ebook
ISBN: 978-1250360847
Tordotcom, September 2026, 336 pgs

Anyone with internet can pretty easily find out that FIYAH was originally announced in 2016, inspired by a magazine called Fire!! from the 1920s. But you have to look a bit more carefully to find context, and context is critical here. In 2016, Fireside published the #BlackSpecFic report, which revealed that among “some of the more mainstream paying markets,” the ratio of Black authors being published was astonishingly low: “Out of 2,039 stories published in 2015, only 38 were written by Black authors.”¹

At that time, most magazines were run by white editors². Most white editors would say things like, “I don’t see color, I just go by the quality of the work.” Most of those editors would not consider the possibility of reader bias, of lacking perspective to understand content, or of the possibility that their “readership” may grasp stories that they don’t. In fact, even when faced with these statistics, what was an obviously massive problem in the opinion of a lot of people (especially Black folks) was not seen as an actual problem to many of the editors, some of whom, to this day, have not changed any of their acquisition practices in any meaningful ways since then.

Of course, on the other side were the white editors who publicly praised the work of the folks who put the report together, talked about how important it is to support authors of color, but then continued to publish startlingly few Black authors. None of this is really a secret: Anyone interested can look at the tables of contents for most magazines and figure out how things look for themselves. I may have written a few articles about these and similar topics in my F&SF column³ as well . . . and there were a few follow-up #BlackSpecFic⁴ reports, too.

The Fireside report mainly served as public “proof” of something that many Black writers already knew. It also confirmed the suspicions that other Black folks felt in their gut but just couldn’t be sure about. For Black writers, saying things like “ . . . I just go by the quality of the work” was, more than anything, irrefutable evidence that too many white editors really didn’t care about Black folks, and that the only solution was to create a space that did care, one which would center and celebrate the work of Black creators. And so, FIYAH was born!

FIYAH is a magazine that created something special for the Black community. But in doing so, they also created a magazine which, issue after issue, put forward stunning work. In this way, their presence improved SFF for all readers. Furthermore, it demonstrated what readers and writers in the Black community already knew: that lots of high-quality work really was being produced by Black authors, despite the assertion that selections at other venues were strictly “based on quality.”

Okay, enough history. Let’s talk about the anthology at hand!

How would you even begin to compress ten years of a magazine run into one anthology? It’s an impossible task, and given how many wonderful stories FIYAH published, it is one that would demand that numerous worthy pieces be left out. So, editor DaVaun Sanders sidestepped the problem, in a sense. Instead of collecting previously published pieces into a “best of” (which by implication invites comparison to the pieces not selected), he invited authors with a strong connection to the magazine to send in work. Forged in FIYAH features eighteen original stories by some of the most skilled storytellers putting out fiction today. I’ll go over a few pieces just to give an idea of what’s on offer.

In “The Clothmaker of Kehin” by M.H. Ayinde, nine-year-old Bandele watches as a truth singer sent by Prince Dami demands that her mother go back with him to work her magic on behalf of the prince, the sick princess, and his soldiers. When the mom refuses, the so-called truth singer ruins her life with a campaign of lies. Worse, the locals whom she’d helped so often believe the truth singer’s lies and turn on mom and her daughters. The tone of the story is somewhat like a fable, and some of the obvious meanings are clear and upfront. But then the final portion adds another interesting layer. It delves more into cool world-building, vivid imagery, and is perhaps more subtle in what it may be trying to say. Altogether, it’s a well-told piece which perhaps begins with something deceptively simplistic but transforms it into something nuanced, much like the transformations the mom renders with her own work, as well as the transformation Bandele undergoes through her journey.

Tonya R. Moore’s “The Nth Verse” places the reader on an airship fighting the elements, grounding us first in tactile and other kinds of sensory immersion. Quick world-building strokes create an immediate sense of place, scale, and mythology. In under two paragraphs, you know you are in good hands, and that the author could easily lay out a novel if she wanted to. Meanwhile, our protagonist Tessai is trying her best to get to the citadel in the sky, despite the weather’s best efforts to stop her. She’s taking her fairly dangerous shot in order to get out of the slums of the Palisades, and she’s really fighting for it, so we really want her to make it. When the ship’s crew tricks Tessai into doing something completely against her morals, everything changes for her, including how she feels about herself, and the price of chasing a supposed opportunity. It’s a great adventure tale, but it also has a lot to say about human relationships, about exploitation, and about the perils of hope.

Eden Royce is one of those writers who, if I see their name on the cover of an anthology, I am suddenly interested. I’ve read a fair chunk of her short fiction, and she has never let me down. In “All That Remains,” she flexes expert storytelling skills right from the jump, giving us not only a protagonist whose father calls to announce he has died, but a protagonist who couldn’t care less about it. Conflict and intriguing ideas? Yes, please, tell me more! Royce uses narrative Voice, as well as dialogue, to wonderful effect. She makes the story and interactions feel intimate and relatable, even as the characters are not normal people. Connie’s dad is a “little god,” and this complicates things a step or two beyond family dynamics. Like some fathers, Connie’s seemed to like helping people—to a degree—while being largely neglectful of his own family. Nonetheless, Connie’s mom convinces her to go deal with dad, and her journey properly begins. While the beats of the story are entertaining, and of course, Royce builds images and a world with precision and efficiency, where it all ends up is immensely satisfying. Imperfect people, fraught histories, but finding something real and meaningful when it’s all said and done, that’s what it’s about. Royce takes us there without making it a cheesy Hallmark moment, but by embracing things that are human and true.

Emmalia Harrington’s “Talented Tenth” is a superb story of intersectionality, various pressures from different corners of communities, the challenges of navigating a world that offers insufficient understanding, and more. It’s complex in the range of things it takes on, while at the same time, being very simple in terms of the heart of the story. Oscar is a new member of the Talented Tenth, a group of Black kids who see themselves as the elite segment at their school, who plan to combat social injustice through their own excellence. Oscar is neurodivergent and has a number of disabilities, some of them invisible. She is extremely smart, but she also has to deal with the assumptions people make about her, whether it’s from adults who don’t believe in her disabilities, or her so-called peers who insist on defining what being Black means, regardless of what it means to Oscar. Harrington’s style is comfortable, engaging, and entertaining. Despite this, the story unfolds through event after event which are all grounded in true, real-life social problems. Oscar has to realize many things for herself that many of us also have to realize in our own processes of growing up, things that aren’t easy to come to when we long to be accepted, to have community, and to be seen in certain ways, even though the people we are encountering and dealing with are causing us all kinds of harm that we often don’t have the tools to process. It gets so complicated when the people you are supposed to bond with might not be good for you at all. It’s a story about a kid, but many people will relate in their own ways, and many adults probably still struggle with these same issues. Even if the issues in the story are not things you personally deal with, anyone with a drop of empathy should finish it and have a new level of understanding, or at least, empathic curiosity. This gives us a character we can root for and a journey with just the right amount of emotional resonance. Seriously great writing.

“Worry Dolls” by Yvette Lisa Ndlovu opens with a tiny doll showing up in Anesu’s glove compartment, despite her deliberately having left it under her pillow. It’s a classic kind of horror situation, one that never fails to unsettle, and one that still feels current and fresh because of the way Ndlovu tells it. The details of the doll are part of what makes this story engrossing, while also creating a pact between author and reader that yes, is a comfortably familiar premise, but we haven’t seen this exact story before. Ndlovu does terrific work building tension through specific details, while also developing insight into the character’s anxiety and feelings of being not just out of place, but surrounded by unacknowledged hostility and colonialism. Sharp readers will get where things are going, to some degree, and love it, but either way, go along for the story and enjoy it. Also, trust me, there are still a good number of surprises in store. As Anesu delivers her speech to a room full of white academics, Ndlovu beautifully begins to expose the racism and hypocrisy of academic institutions. This goes deeper than “some people are racist” and deeper even than an individual professor, delving into the impact of institutions on personal, community, and global levels, all while deftly moving the main narrative forward about Anesu and the dolls. When we get to the end of the story, it’s definitely satisfying, but more than this, if you’re paying attention, you should be thinking about how Anesu wound up here. Moreover, what does this mean about the continuing, insidious impact of colonialism on the way people see themselves and each other, even when they are themselves Black and Brown people? Brilliant.

This anthology is coming out on the heels of the announcement that FIYAH is going on an “indefinite hiatus,”⁵ words that should have everyone who loves short fiction extremely concerned. DaVaun Sanders said on his Bluesky account, “The mag cannot continue running at a loss, and needs time to reassess operations from top to bottom if a viable path forward is to be created.” For anyone who closely observes the SFF magazine industry, these are very familiar sentiments, spoken by representatives of many magazines before this one. FIYAH has occupied a unique space and purpose, however, and many of the prominent venues in the industry still seem to undervalue works by Black authors. Okay, this is my interpretation based on my own observations of the field, but as I said before: You can look at various tables of contents for yourself, see who does and doesn’t seem to publish Black authors, and wonder about why for yourself.

As for this book, besides the folks I’ve mentioned, there are wonderful pieces by a host of powerful writers, waiting for your discovery. If you know short fiction the way I do, all you need to do is look at the table of contents. For me, seeing this assemblage of authors makes this book an absolute, automatic “must read.” If you don’t know short fiction, if you are usually into novels, you should still recognize a few names: Suyi Davies Okungbowa, Veronica G. Henry, C.L. Clark, Maurice Broaddus, Tobi Ogundiran, L.D. Lewis, and more. And . . . if you look at the table of contents but don’t recognize most of these names? In all seriousness, it’s a sign that you need to read more fiction by Black writers.

Luckily, here’s your chance. Sanders made it really easy for you. Go get this book and enjoy!

1: fiyahlitmag.com/2016/09/01/a-history/

2: For the record, in SFF, this is still the case, especially at higher paying magazines. And I mean, importantly, editors with the power to make decisions, not just first readers who pass things up to the editors who make decisions. But now, there are a few more editors of color out there, doing really cool things! Including Sheree Renée Thomas at F&SF, some of the folks at Otherside are people of color, Anathema is making a comeback as we speak, Reckoning has guest editors of color, khōréō, Haven Spec, Tasavvur, Omenana, and a few others that I personally know about. I’m sure there may be more that I don’t know about. Go find them! Read them! Throw money at them!

3: arleysorg.com/by-the-numbers-10

4: fiyahlitmag.com/blackspecfic/

5: bit.ly/4p3ir6U