Geek
Love: An Anthology of Full Frontal Nerdity
Edited
by Shanna Germain and Janine Ashbless
Stone
Box Press, 2012
ISBN
978-1-939308-05-04
Good
evening, everyone. My name is Lisabet, and I'm a geek.
Myopic
as a mole, I started wearing glasses when I was seven, but, unaware
of the physical requirements, I still wanted to be an astronaut. In
junior high school, I won a state-wide televised science quiz show.
In high school, the smartest guy in the class dumped me because he
said I made him feel inadequate. For years I made my living designing
and writing programs (and fixing mistakes in code written by others).
Now I teach a new generation about software, trying to show them its
magic – how pure ideas, expressed in a formal symbolism, are
transformed into artifacts that change the world.
Shanna
Germain and Janine Ashbless might very well have assembled their
magnificent collection Geek Love especially for
me. With more than 250 pages of erotic tales and artwork, the
book
celebrates
the
glories
of
nerditude
in
its
many
guises.
We
geeks
may
not
be
famous
or
popular,
or
even
socially
accepted,
but
we're
not
going
to
remake
ourselves
just
to
fit
in.
We
may
prefer
books
to
people
upon
occasion.
We
may
be
obsessed
by
numbers
or
machines.
We
enjoy
playing
games,
both
intellectual
and
carnal,
and
we're
interested
not
just
in
reality
but
in
possibility.
And
although
I
don't
have
any
objective
data
to
support
this
claim,
my
personal
experience
suggests
there's
a
correlation
between
geekiness
and
kinkiness.
Certainly
the
stories
in
Geek Love could
be
viewed
as
evidence
for
my
theory.
The
many
dimensions
of
nerdity
make
Geek Love fabulously
diverse,
while
still
providing
a
general
thematic
unity.
Kristina
Lloyd kicks off the book with “Black Gold”, an ironic tale set in
a post-fossil-fuel civilization where coffee is forbidden but BDSM
scenarios can be ordered off a menu more complicated than any
Starbucks. Despite its hardcore action, the tale has a romantic slant
that suggests some things may never change.
I've
never had any personal interest in exploring the “furry”
subculture, yet for some reason I found “Goodness, Her Tail”, by
Camille Alexa, to be one of the most arousing stories in the book.
Suzanne's mundane existence as an office girl is just a facade. She's
only truly alive at night, when she dons her ears and whiskers and
frolics in the park with her furry friends Mowse and Rattatle Pie. A
glimpse of her co-worker Mellie's peachy-pink tail turns her world
upside down, and may very well turn you on in the process.
Peter
A. Smalley's “The Journey of Mary Freder” begins as a steampunk
parody. In classic Victorian epistolary style, a brilliant and
talented female lab assistant writes in her journal of her eagerness
to prove herself to her illustrious mentor - Dr. Sextus Halifax, an
expert on pneumatic processes and electrical phenomena “recently
returned from a Continental sabbatical with that Teutonic colossus of
science Herr Doktor Deitrich von Grossenschaft”. The story takes a
darker turn as young Mary becomes obsessed with the well-oiled
brass-and-clockwork female automaton that is Dr. Halifax's life work.
In
“Raid Night”, by James L. Sutter, a woman's patience with her
online-game-obsessed partner finally snaps, and she finds herself
taking what she wants from him – to his surprise and ultimate
delight.
M.
Christian's affecting and insightful story “The Hope of Cinnamon”
imagines an extra-dimensional world called Stonewall, where men are
free to enjoy life and one another without fear or constraints. Gen
is a Helper, dedicated to assisting the Rescued – gay men snatched
from the nightmare persecution of Nazi Germany – in their
adaptation to Stonewall society. His role requires him to be a
mentor, a teacher, and when necessary, a lover. But Bissou, his
latest client, has important lessons to teach him in return.
“Electric”
by
Wendy
N.
Wagner
is
a
brief,
vivid
peek
into
the
mind
of
celibate
genius
Nikolas
Tesla
– a
universe
of
passionate
connections
shot
through
with
lightning.
Michael
M. Jones conjures a geeky gal who inherits her crackpot uncle's
hopelessly disordered comic books store in “The Secret Life of
Ramona Lee”. Irene, a fugitive AI originally developed by the
government, offers organizational assistance – incarnated as a
curvy, blue-eyed brunette whom Ramona finds difficult to ignore.
“The
Ivory-Billed
Woodpecker
Is
Extinct”,
by
Bill
Nobel,
offers
up
a
trio
of
bio-geeks:
three
horny
academics
crammed
together
in
a
bird
watching
blind
seeking
some
evidence
of
a
rare
species.
I
won't
mention
the
gender
of
the
characters
because,
as
in
many
of
the
well-warped
tales
in
this
volume,
it
hardly
matters.
Shanna
Germain's contribution to the collection is original, dark and
haunting. One character in “Saving the World” is a transgendered
amputee superhero rock star. The other is a craftsperson, a dominant,
a lover, whose gender is never revealed. The action in this tale is
hot violence laced with devotion. The language is lyrical, raw, and
achingly beautiful:
The band behind
her, they've got capes over their jeans and t-shirts. But no cape for
her. It gets caught in her heels, she says, but you know it's because
it covers too much of her. She likes to show off those hot-damn hips,
that fine-as-rain-ass, those missing legs that end in something
different every show.
Tonight
they're
steel
filigree
from
her
knees
down;
leaves
and
flowers
and
a
hundred
tiny
metal
creatures
tucked
into
the
empty
spaces.
She's
got
a
thing
for
whimsy
wrapped
in
an
enigma
tucked
into
a
weapon.
Her
legs,
her
feet
really,
end
in
six-inch
knifed
heels
that
could
kill
a
man.
Probably
have killed
a
man.
I
don't
ask
most
times,
because
I
don't
need
to
know.
Sometimes
she
tells
me
anyway.
And
that's
when
I
have
to
buy
a
bottle
of
fine-ass
whiskey
and
walk
away
from
her,
go
down
to
the
strip
where
the
boys
play
ball
in
corner
pockets
and
they're
all-too-happy
to
wield
a
fist
to
a
face,
a
paddle
to
a
place
where
the
ass
meets
the
mind.
“Downtime”
by Tanya Korval would be at home in many contemporary erotica
anthologies, but it fits in well enough here. A couple of young PC
techs forced to work late, one a jealous dominant, the other a
glutton for punishment, especially when exhibitionism is involved...
use your imagination. They do.
“The
Pornographer's Assistant” by A.C. Wise is another mesmerizing tale
about the word made flesh. A robot amanuensis buried in a desert
bunker awaits her long-dead master, whose tales of fleshly excess she
used to transcribe. Instead, a desperate, broken girl finds her way
to the pornographer's hidden lair and is healed by the power of the
pen.
Craig
Sorensen's “Opening Juicy Lucy” includes no robots or electronic
marvels, just a geeky college guy who receives an unexpected and
intimate request from the cheerleader queen he thought barely knew
his name. Like most of Craig's stories, this one features complex and
believable characters that make it a joy to read.
A.L.
Auerbach conjures shades of Cthulhu with a lesbian slant in “A
Great Old Time”. Fans of tentacles will not want to miss this
story.
“Binary
– consisting of, indicating, or involving two” is Preston Avery's
light-hearted evocation of horny gal with a head for math. She meets
her match in a guy who can turn a computer programming assignment
into a love – or lust – letter.
I
read “Morphosis” by Jak Koke three times, and I still didn't
fully understand it, at least at an intellectual level, but it moved
me nevertheless. According to the author's notes, this story sprang
to life fully formed from a dream. Given its shifting imagery and
emotional nuances, I find this plausible.
Andrea
Task contributes “Who Am I This Time?”, a definitely sexy power
exchange tale influenced by “Choose Your Own Adventure”. The ties
to the geek theme are less strong than in some other tales in the
collection, but I'm certainly not going to complain about any
well-written story featuring a D/s threesome.
“Voyeuristic
Beauty” by Elise Hepner puzzled me, mainly because I couldn't see
thematic relevance in this re-telling of Sleeping Beauty from the
perspective of an enchanted mirror that watches her over her hundred
years of slumber. Nevertheless, I liked the deviations from the
classic fairy tale. In this version, Aurora doesn't need to wait for
her destined prince to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.
J.A.
Shirley's “Fuck the World” is a lot of fun, a conspiracy caper in
which two female scientists posing as call girls infect the world's
leaders with a virus intended to alter the course of history.
In
“At the Faire”, Andrea Dale celebrates a rather neglected corner
of nerdiness, namely historical reenactments and creative
anachronism. As someone who has personally experienced the earthy
influence of a Renaissance Faire, I strongly identified with her
heroine, the lusty Mistress Maggie.
Janine
Ashbless, like her co-editor Shanna Germain, slips to the darker side
in her contribution “Grinding”, which relates a hapless gamer's
encounter with an electronic succubus. I loved her opening:
Time
was, when humans guarded their souls. They'd fence them about with
prayer and rabbit's feet, with four-leafed clovers kept in a pocket
or medallions of the saints. In those days, it was only when they
slept, and their souls wandered away from their bodies, that I could
find them and feed.
It's
so much easier now.
“Command
Prompt” by Ed Grabianowski, provides an original take on BDSM and
remote control. Harry Markov's “Pages and Playthings” envisions a
book that actively alters the consciousness of the reader – and
hence reality. “Player Characters” by Lucia Starkey offers new
uses for dice. “Ho Pais Kalos” by Molly Tanzer is narrated by a
sentient phallus from ancient Greece, who observes and ultimately
participates in the unplanned coming together of two young men
studying archeology. Alison Winchester's delightful “RJ-45”
offers a wonderfully fresh voice, focusing in alternation upon a
savvy female “code monkey” and a lowly IT support gal with a
fondness for kink. “F-RPG” by Vivienne Ashe explores the multiple
identities players build in role playing games, and the truths hidden
beneath those choices.
I
enjoyed all the tales above, but three stories in the latter part of
the book particularly impressed me. Kirsty Logan brilliantly captures
the loneliness of modern Tokyo in her gorgeous lesbian tale “The
Purpose of Tongues”:
In
the electric city of Akihabara, nothing has a taste. There are
endless promises: girls dressed as maids offering tea and cream
cakes, girls done up like cats offering bowls of flavored milk, girls
plastic-wrapped and LED-eyed with lips like strawberries.
Girls,
girls. All delicious. All tasteless.
Then
there's Jesse Bullington's funny, insightful “Porn Enough at Last”,
set in a post-apocalyptic future where people huddle in isolated
bunkers, fearful of contamination, poring over censored hentai porn.
The hero (or is it heroine? The author very cleverly avoids
telling..) has artistic talent and spends his/her time restoring the
pixellated dirty parts and selling the results. The creativity and
craft in this story made me grin in admiration.
And
the final tale in the collection, Sommer Marsden's “Magdalene”,
left me close to tears. A genius misfit fashions the perfect robot
companion, the ultimate love-doll, and accomplishes more than he
knows. Magdalene must hide her feelings from her Sir, even when he
decides to “put her to sleep” after getting involved with a human
woman.
Normally,
when I review an anthology, I'll mention half a dozen of my favorite
stories. With Geek Love, I just couldn't choose.
While some tales impressed me more than others, the collection as a
whole left me with a feeling of awe.
Hence
this lengthy review, which has already run to four pages – and I
haven't even mentioned the cartoons, drawings, paintings and photos
yet. Or the fact that this remarkable volume was funded by donations
on Kickstarter, made by people who thought the world really needed
some geek love.
I
don't have space to say much about the artwork or the exquisite
visual design – you'll have to buy the book and see for yourself.
However, I did want to mention the extensive authors' and artists'
notes that conclude the book. Many were as much fun to read as the
stories themselves. I'm always curious to learn where other authors'
stories come from. Geek Love allowed me to
indulge that voyeuristic tendency.
In
the author notes, a number of contributors said that they'd actually
written their story years ago. These tales had been submitted and
rejected multiple times, judged as just too weird for publication,
until Geek Love came along – the
perfect home for them. Like all of us nerds, scorned and ridiculed,
dismissed as clumsy, queer or overly brainy, they were just waiting
for the right audience – people who appreciate intelligence,
unconventionality, and of course, sex.
