Thought I’d give you a glimpse into my anthology of short, speculative fiction, And the Angels Sang. What follows is the afterword, which, hopefully, will give you some insight into what the stories are about and why I wrote them.

In the genesis of any work there is always that spark of inspiration that sends my imagination in a new orbit. That spark could be anything: an article, a concept, a person.
The cover story, And the Angels Sang, sprang from the historical accounts of the torture of Father Jean de Brebeuf. The Norman Brebeuf (1593 to 1649) was a Jesuit missionary who braved the perils of Canada’s wilderness, several times making the arduous 800 mile journey from Trois Rivieres to Georgian Bay where he eventually established the mission, Ste. Marie among the Hurons which has been reconstructed on the original site at Midland, Ontario. His grave is still there, a powerful presence.
A peaceable man, intelligent, an adept diplomat, Brebeuf compiled one of the first Huron/French dictionaries, left extensive notes on the customs and diplomatic procedures of the Hurons, and it is alleged didn’t cry out during the long hours of his torture at the hands of the Iroquois.
As an adjunct to Brebeuf’s story, I read accounts of trauma victims experiencing out-of-body sensations, and that surreal quality, combined with what was clearly Brebeuf’s own devotion to not only his God, but the people he came to serve, formed the foundation of the story.
While I was writing And the Angels Sang, I was also writing the novel Shadow Song, which deals very much with Ojibwa culture. In my research of these two stories, I came across an Inuit legend, Sister Sun. Like many of the Arctic native people’s myths, this one is embedded in violence and darkness, perhaps a reflection of the environment they endure.
The legend, along with a fascination of the foundation for legend, gave rise to my story, Sister Sun. The story appears as it did when published in On Spec, employing past tense for present occurrences, against present tense for past. I chose this literary device as a way of conveying the immediacy of the creation of legend, that Yukio’s past has caused his future, and is, as a result, of greater importance than his present.
Have a Nice Day and Pass the Arsenic was one of my early publication successes, and written as an illustration that basic human needs will always remain no matter where we go or what we do.
Protector, on the other hand, arose out of the loneliness of a listener and Jungian-based Myers-Briggs personality profiling, specifically an INFJ, (also known as Counsellor/Idealist) which is the profile I seem to fit. Apparently (depending on the source) about two percent of the world’s population are INFJ. This personality profiling was set against what I perceive to be an increasingly irresponsible and uncaring Western society.
While exploring the dynamics of human relationships the whole concept of reality rattled in my brain, and that lead to a brief dip into the world of string-theory (that made my brain hurt, sort of a stop-that it’s-wonderful!) Out of that investigation arose The Gift, and what is now an outline for a novel, Caliban. Despite the fact some people see the tale as a ghost story, it was never my intention. For me The Gift explores a man’s perceived descent into madness, set against a character so alien she is capable of altering reality
Over-Exposed is purely about relationships, and the depths of love, a concept made all the more poignant recently by the heart-breaking life of Robert Latimer to whom I can only send all my very best thoughts. My story also examines the view of an artist and how that artist sees his world.
I swung back to string-theory (the concept that there are up to twelve space/time dimensions, all coexisting) in the story, Zero Mile, which was my way of examining human obsession with being bigger, better, faster. Watching Olympic athletes compete, I can only wonder just how much can be shaved from records before finally it is acceptable and the norm to allow body enhancements? And then, at what cost to humanity?
Darkies returns to the dynamics, and sometimes devastations, of human relationships, as does A Case of Time, although the latter also grew out of an interest in what is learned behaviour and instinctive, and the question: can either be erased once part of our neuro-chemical makeup.
Jaguar was one of the stories slated for workshop at Clarion 1989, before I stood on my idealistic principles, packed my bags, and left after three weeks. The story arose out what was to prove a prophetic belief that fresh water would become a traded commodity, one valuable enough to attract criminal profit-seekers.
The last story of this somewhat dark, speculative section, The Green Season, was also written while I attended Clarion, and found its creation after study of the social behaviour of lions, although I admit to the cardinal sin of anthropomorphism.
The latter section, Sariel, being fantasy is lighter in nature and definitely reflects my inner child, and it is out of that sense of wonder, and a love of the great age of sail, that the story For a Cup of Tea gave birth. Originally written specifically for a British anthology a colleague from Clarion was editing. The story is a fantastical alternative history to the famed race between Cutty Sark and Thermopylae in 1872, which Cutty Sark lost by only one week despite loosing her rudder in a storm and carrying on with an improvisation.
Unfortunately the story received my editor’s ire; I was accused of chauvinism and blatant sexual references denigrating to women. That reaction always puzzled me. Plainly On Spec didn’t find the story offensive and purchased it.
Summer Wine and Sweet Mistresses, one of my early short stories, and first sale, blatantly reflects my love of trees and the dryad myth.
Like For a Cup of Tea, Dragonslayer was written for a specific market and failed for the same reason. The anthology for which the story was targeted was an examination of what happened to all the fantasy heroes after the wars were over. I’m afraid I didn’t approach the subject with sufficient seriousness. All I could envision was some swaggering archetype reduced to selling life insurance (no offence to insurance salespeople). It just seemed the ultimate irony.
The third time I wrote a short story for a specific market, Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Sword & Sorceress X, I hit my mark. I thought it would be interesting to examine a tale from a deity’s point of view. Clearly the very helpful and remarkable MZB thought the same.
In A Dishwasher for Michelina I thought it would be fun to visit what would happen to an ordinary fellow, with an ordinary life, who was suddenly blessed with a legendary money tree. It was meant as nothing more than a whimsical romp.
While darker in nature, A Memory of Moonlight and Silver is also part of my whimsy, little say my love of elves and the loss of them in our lives.
As a sidebar to that, when first we moved to this old stone house, I dreamed one of my remarkable, very real dreams, wherein on the crown of the hill of our property, beneath the apple tree and adjacent an old well, convened the royal court of the Sidhe of Neustadt. They decreed Gary and I would be allowed to share this land with them so long as our son, Adam, would act as liaison and ambassador. I must check with Adam on his progress there.

And the Angels Sang
ISBN: 9780973927801
Author: Lorina Stephens
Publisher: Five Rivers Chapmanry
Trade paperback 6 x 9, 196 pages
$26.95CDN, $18.95US
eBook
$9.95US
Available from online retailers internationally and Five Rivers.