Cremulator by Robert Reed

This short story is from Clarkesworld Magazine's September 2015 Issue 108, and is available to read here, for free for now.

Issue 108's cover is New World Coming by J. Otto Szatmari.

1. It feels like the structure here is the point in some ways. It's the key to making all this legible. The five part structure helps by keeping the five stories distinct and understandable, divided enough to encourage the reader to contemplate each portion separately. From this, the conceit of stories told from alternate realities is allowed to emerge. This skillfully communicates a conceit dangerous to reader comprehension: that first time I hit a difference—Gwen married to the student instead of Melanie—it was a real shock. I trusted the author by this point so I took it as mystery instead of incompetence.

2. The reason I trusted him is because right off the bat he spent two paragraphs talking about the student's attraction to his teacher, then said, "But I'm telling a different story now." This is a dangerous play. I have to trust him at this point, but he better make good on that trust. By this point, Reed has already established the main character of this first part, and he goes on to begin the plot from this character's point of view. This shift pays off because the character and tone are similar both before and after the break. When he successfully rewards my trust that first time, I'm more likely to trust in him the second time. The second break of character inconsistency is much bigger, and if he hadn't sown the field beforehand, I don't know if I would've made the jump with him.

3. The third dangerous move is having five distinct short stories combined into one. This can cause confusion for the reader, or each part can be so distinct that they don't relate all that well—like in Foundation. But Reed simply ties them together in two ways: plot and characters. This is the same plot told five times from five points of view and five similar but alternate realities. The characters are recognizably similar—though all three may not be present in every part. The similarities keep the stories connected and show the theme. Further, each section adds another layer or detail to the central plot, progressing the overarching plot by adding detail through each of the five plots' specifics. Something unique happens in all five parts, letting each stand as their own short story, but also contributing to the reader's understanding of the overarching plot.

4. The theme is actualized possibility—here iterated over five actualizations. This comes directly from the structure and plots, or the structure and plots are crafted around this examination of five instances of a similar event occurring on similar earths to alternate reality similar characters. It leaves me pondering all those choices I've made in life, and what life would be if I had taken a different path, what life could be. That exhilarating sense of being overwhelmed by the unknown, while knowing that the moment and the choice are important. In the first story, the unknowns of the student's attraction to Gwen is overwhelming. In the second, Gwen contemplates the unknowns inherent in love, specifically focusing on her relationship with her family and with Melanie. In the third the unknowns of childhood, past, and home baffle Gwen and the student. In the fourth, the unknowns of the plot and of her own field of specialization overwhelm and surprise Melanie. In the fifth, the unknowns of death, our typical cultural communications, and bodies of knowledge outside our specializations overwhelm the student and Melanie. This theme ties the whole together, keeping the whole package legible and focused.

5. The first two paragraphs masterfully set the scene: without telling "It's a small town," Reed shows us what makes a small town. Without describing every person, the main character's specifics illuminate the whole and reinforce the shorter descriptions of other characters' actions. This shows rather than tells, but shows really well. Instead of building a new world from whole cloth, Reed starts with familiars understandable to his readers, describes them, then diverges slightly to give a sense of his worlds. This is why I think the writing is more scene setting than world building—the worlds are recognizably earth, after all.

6. He also tells well. "It was my mission." "I'm smart and always have been." "I've never been happier." These are short, descriptive sentences that help explain the characters. Through their shortness, they often communicate his sense of self-confidence, resignation, and puzzlement. Reed's writing of the whole mixes showing and telling and does both well.

7. The writing is good: the short sentences tend towards concise descriptions that are well worded and structured. It is Hemingway-esque in that it relies on the described for interest, but doesn't shy away from a beautiful phrase.

"And in a day when this kind of behavior mattered, my English teacher happened to have a girlfriend in the city. Of course the young lady never discussed sexual peculiarities. Paid to teach English, that’s exactly what she did."

"This is what life has taught me: People are peculiar. A person can spend every day of his life finding examples of our spectacular oddness, and if that’s what he likes to do, then his life is destined to be full and rich."

"I rarely get to meet legends. Despite a reputation for combativeness, this particular legend was nothing but pleasant."

Or maybe Reed's writing is more like Bukowski with its wit. It doesn't matter either way though: Reed is his own writer and he's a good one. In the dialog I even get some small sense of distinction in characters.