I’dbeen a DJ at my college radio station. Kitty’s late-night life in frontof a microphone, solitary but connected to a host of people she can’tsee, felt familiar. That familiarity vouched for the story; if thatpart was right, it suggested the rest of Kitty’s world was authentic,too. Even the werewolves.
Andwhat werewolves! They were convincingly both human and lupine, with theinstincts of each species, and a mixed social structure that made sensefor people who had to live with ordinary humans but keep theirdifference secret.
Ifthat makes you think of metaphoric possibilities, I’m not going to warnyou off. But you should understand that writers don’t always know whenwe’re crafting metaphors. Sometimes we discover them as readers do:when we read the finished work and see the subtext, the supportingmesh, of the story we’ve told. Even if we’ve intended a deeper,parallel meaning in a work of fiction, readers may find a differentmetaphor in the tale, one that hits closer to their lives andexperience.
Fantasyis one of the best mediums for telling two stories (if not more!) atonce. They layer on one another: reality and make-believe, life andmyth, perception and fact. “Unternehmen Werwolf,” on its face, is thestory of a young soldier in World War II tasked with a mission wecan’t sympathize with. But the story asks: Can we look past the missionto see the man? “Kitty Learns the Ropes” puts Kitty in a tough placebetween her two communities, human and werewolf. But underneath theaction, it asks a question just as tough: Is it ever right to “out”someone, to take away their control of what the world knows of them?
Speakingof communities, the characters in these stories (I think of them asKitty and the friends she hasn’t met yet) don’t move through life alone—like wolves, they need their pack to survive, whether they know it ornot. Each story is as much about a community as about individuals, andcharacters succeed because of the connections they make and the bondsthey form with others. The lone hero who triumphs on solo strength,knowledge, and determination? That character may be a regular inadventure fiction, but in the world where we live, that’s more commonlythe person whose neighbors are quoted as saying, “They were quiet. Keptto themselves. We had no idea all those bodies were in the basement.”That focus on connection and community is another thing that makesthese stories feel real, as if they’re happening right around thecorner.
AfterI finished Kitty and the Midnight Hour, Ifound myself telling people, “There’s this book about a woman who’s aDJ on nighttime radio, and she’s secretly a werewolf, and there aremore werewolves, andsome vampires, but they’re not those sorts ofwerewolves and vampires—Anyway, you should read it.”
Anaudio version of a cover quote, maybe? Definitely an act ofcommunity-building.
Thekind folks at Tachyon have allowed me to remedy my original lapse.But now it takes a whole introduction to recommend Carrie Vaughn’swork, because after a series of novels and this delicious collection ofshort stories, there’s so much more to say. If you aren’t already partof the community—the family—that knows andloves Vaughn’s real and fantastic universe, think of this volume as itsWelcome Wagon, arrived on your doorstep with a plate of brownies andan intriguing air of mystery. Go ahead. Invite it in.
EmmaBull
March2020
KittyWalks On By, Calls Your Name
BENPARKED, and we sat in the car for what seemed like a very long time,not saying anything, staring grimly ahead as if we were aboutto go into battle.
“It’snot too late to back out of this,” he said finally. “There’s nothingin the universe that says you have to go to your high school classreunion.”
Tenyears. With everything that had happened to me over the last ten years,it seemed like a century ought to have passed. On the other hand, Icould still remember what it felt like to walk down those stinky schoolhalls and worry about grades and graduation and the rest of it. Ben wasright, I didn’t need to do this, I didn’t need to be here, and Icertainly didn’t need to drag him along.
Hewas wearing a suit and tie, his courtroom best, a fresh shave andbrushed hair, all the polish and not hismeeting-clients-at-the-county-jail-at-two-in-the-morning scruff, whichmeant he was takingthis seriously. I was in a very mature cocktail dress, black with a redbelt, in a style that showed off my figure. My blond hair was up, andI’d put on makeup. Retro elegance. Looking in the mirror before we’dleft home made me think I ought to dress up more often.
DidI really want to do this? We could start the car back up and turnaround right now.
Iwouldn’t even have known the reunion was happening except SadieMartinez sent me an email. She’d reached out and practically beggedme—she didn’t want to be here alone. Sadie and I had been best friends,study partners, double dating to prom, all of it. And I hadn’t talkedto her since junior year of college because I hadn’t talked to anyonesince junior year of college. The year I’d been attacked by awerewolf and transformed into something that didn’t normally think muchabout high school class reunions.
Mylife fell into two halves: before I was turned into a werewolf andafter. High school was before. It had happened to someone else. Now,I’d walk through those hotel ballroom doors and wouldn’t know anyone,and the ones I did know would be angry that I’d stopped talking tothem. If they didn’t run screaming because I was a monster. Because Iwasn’t just a werewolf. I hosted a talk-radio advice show on thesupernatural and had been caught shape-shifting on national television.I was a famous werewolf.
Partof why we wanted to turn around was the off chance someone might havebrought a gun with silver bullets, thinking they’d be doing the world afavor. But I felt like I owed it to Sadie, after all the years I’ddropped out of sight.
“Didyou go to your high school reunion?” I asked. Ben was enough older thanme that his ten-year
