Synopsis:
What if Death himself wanted to die? Can deliverance be
found on a bloody battlefield? Could the gift of silvering become a prison for
those who possessed it? Will an ancient warrior be forever the caretaker of a
house of mystery?
Delving into the depths of the tortured hero, twelve authors explore the realms
of fantasy in this enthralling and thought-provoking collection. Featuring the
talents of Jen Chandler, L. Nahay, Renee Cheung, Roland Yeomans, Elizabeth
Seckman, Olga Godim, Yvonne Ventresca, Ellen Jacobson, Sean McLachlan, Erika
Beebe, Tyrean Martinson, and Sarah Foster.
Hand-picked by a panel of agents and authors, these twelve tales will take you
into the heart of heroes who have fallen from grace. Join the journey and discover
a hero's redemption!
Review:
Anytime I read a short story collection, if I find even one
good, entertaining or thought-provoking story, I consider that collection a
success. I’m happy to say Hero Lost:
Mysteries of Life and Death is well ahead of the curve. The Insecure
Writer’s Support Group has no reason whatsoever to feel insecure about their
story-telling chops. In Hero Lost, they
serve up an even dozen of stories that remind us we can’t escape our myths, our
internalized ideas of what saviors and heroes ought to be—knights who slay
dragons, gods who carry out their lofty tasks uncomplainingly, kings who always
make good decisions.
These ideals aren’t wrong. Sometimes, we do need a guy in
shining armor to rush in and protect the villagers. But more often, heroes are
something entirely else. It’s the other heroes these stories celebrate, such as
a homeless girl trying to help a fellow street person or siblings protecting
one another against a cadre of cruel overlords. In two stories, characters refuse to cave
to societal pressures—in “The Silvering,” the culture demands that people wear
gloves to prevent their hands from turning to a magical alloy. In “The Art of
Remaining Bitter,” a little girl living in a Giver-type dystopia clings to her negative (but authentic) emotions
before they are siphoned out of her by some arcane medical procedure.
Sometimes, a heroic act can have dramatic and far-reaching
implications, like the queen risking everything to rescue her royal husband in
“Mind Body Soul.” Other times, it’s those small actions that make a crucial
difference, like the boy who learns to believe in himself in “The Last Dragon.”
Certainly, heroes are capable of mistakes. In the title
story, Death grants immortality to his beloved, who does not requite him. In
“The Wheat Witch,” a man, believing he has committed a heinous crime, returns
to his hometown in Kansas, where a witch holds sway over his family farm.
(Being from the Midwest, I was pleased to see an Old World legend brought to
the Heartland.) His tie to the land evoked the Fisher King; his penance to the
witch brought to mind Hercules’ tasks and Psyche’s trials. I’m a sucker for
re-tellings, for writers who find fresh ways to connect us to our past beliefs,
thereby capturing something universal.
There were only a few stories in this collection that left
me cold, but if there is a sin that several of them committed, it’s that they
left me wanting more. “The Silvering” definitely felt like it was laying the
groundwork for a fantasy epic, which I would really love to see fleshed out.
I particularly enjoyed “Memoirs of a Forgotten Knight,” an
interesting intersection of old school fantasy and technology, also superbly
written. “The Witch Bottle” was a unique take on witchcraft in colonial
America, and the most morally ambiguous of the bunch—it was a classic horror
story in the sense that no one is good and the bad guy gets away. I’m not sure
how that ties into the hero theme, unless one considers everyone is a hero in
his/her own mind?
But, hands-down, the standout for me was “Sometimes They
Come Back,” (not to be confused with the Stephen King story/film, and not a
reference to it either—at least, not as far as I can tell). It’s the tale of an
Einherjar (soldiers out of Norse mythology) who now goes by the Caretaker, servant to a mysterious Grande Dame in a shadowy underworld that exists
uncomfortably close to our own plane of existence. Other gods and mythological
creatures make appearances, but his closest companion is a humble mouse that
rides around in his pocket. This story was brilliantly written, and by turns
fascinating, funny, and disturbing. I was a bit disappointed that it turned
into a run-of-the-mill love story—I could spend a whole book just hanging out
with the Caretaker while he tends to his dark duties.
If these writers are insecure, I can’t wait to see what
they’ll be like when they gain a bit of confidence.
Hero Lost will be available May 2 on Amazon.
