In the past few years, I’ve put together a series on the first three published short fictions by female authors who are completely new to me or whose most famous SF novels fall mostly outside the post-WWII to mid-1980s focus of my reading adventures.
Today I’ve selected the first four stories by an author I’ve only recently started to read–Leigh Kennedy (1951-). I’d previously reviewed “Helen, Whose Face Launched Twenty-Eight Conestoga Hovercraft” (1982) and placed her on the list for this series. According to SF Encyclopedia, Kennedy’s “writing is succinct, polished, lucent, and her stories are emotionally penetrating; it is unfortunate that she has fallen from the world of novel publishing, though continuing to work as a professional indexer.” And I can’t agree more! Her first four stories show great promise and moments of refined vision. I can’t help but think the backlash to her Nebula-nominated (and best-known work) “Her Furry Face” (1983) might have had some effect on her trajectory.
So far I’ve featured Alice Eleanor Jones (1916-1981), Phyllis Gotlieb (1926-2009), Sydney J. Van Scyoc (1939-2023), Josephine Saxton (1935-), Carol Emshwiller (1921-2019), Wilmar H. Shiras (1908-1990), Nancy Kress (1948-), Melisa Michaels (1946-2019), Lee Killough (1942-), Betsy Curtis (1917-2002), and Eleanor Arnason (1942-). To be clear, I do not expect transformative or brilliant things from first stories. Rather, it’s a way to get a sense of subject matter and concerns that first motivated authors to put pen to paper.
Let’s get to the stories!
George Schelling’s interior art for Leigh Kennedy’s “Salamander” in Analog, ed. Ben Bova (June 1977)
3.25/5 (Above Average)
“Salamander” first appeared in Analog Science Fiction/Science Fact, ed. Ben Bova (June 1977). You can read it online here
In the near future, a company establishes a temporary for-profit mining community on the Moon. The goal: gain enough profit to eventually create a permanent settlement with more luxuries and amenities. In the meantime, the workers, in an attempt by the directors to turn a profit, work long shifts in the dangerous lunar environment. Staffed by an international crew of primarily Russians, Americans, and Japanese, the temporary settlement deals increasingly with frayed nerves, accidents, and psychological unease. Dr. Montson, tasked with making the colony “a livable world” (94), arrives and notices immediately the growing currents of tension. He butts heads with Director Yamamoto, who wants to delay the construction of live-improving gardens and recreational areas. In-between wooing the Russian chief psychologist Katya Polyakov, Montson takes more drastic action as the possibility of casualties from negligent and unregulated capitalism grow.
Kennedy deliberately parallels the settlement of the New World by English chartered companies–the Virginia Company in Jamestown and the Plymouth Company in New England come to mind–to the exploitation of the the moon by international mega-corporations. In both instances, the initial settlements operate at a loss–everything is predicated and dictated by the possibility of future profit. In both instances, early groups of settles experience extreme hardship. From this brief glimpse of Kennedy’s future world, un-regulated capitalism seems to run supreme. Many of the crew did not even receive psychological screenings. In other instances, brand-new PhDs were selected over far more experienced veterans for cost-saving reasons. I can’t help but think that a permanent union of lunar workers rather than a temporary organization for a single strike would help forestall future oppression!
A solid first-published short story with an enjoyable take on the benefit of organized labor in the dehumanizing corporate landscape of future colonization. I’m a sucker for the stories about the psychological stress of exploration.
H. R. Giger’s cover for Omni, ed. Ben Bova and Frank Kendig (November 1978)
3/5 (Average)
“Whale Song” first appeared in Omni, ed. Ben Bova and Frank Kendig (November 1978). You can read it online here.
Dr. Marsha Scott and Barbara, both marine researchers, collect data in a submersible for their university on the handful of remaining whales. It’s indirectly implied that in the near future their populations will plummet due to commercial Japanese whalers. The world has agreed to a last-minute moratorium on the hunt. Caught in between the dire proclamations of looming species extinction and capitalist exploitation are the Inuit (called “Eskimos”), who have depended on small-scale whale harvest for generations. Marsha attempts to convince the Inuit not to conduct a whale hunt that year in order to facilitate a last-gasp attempt at a pheromone-facilitated breeding project. During her talk, she realizes that only two in the audience appear to be interested. They have been told what to do before by the white man, with dire consequences. And so the Inuit set out with their harpoons and boats, as they have done every year.
I’m always a bit disappointed by the stories I’ve read from Omni, and “Whale Song” is no exception. It attempts to say something about the collision of ecological science, native traditions, and the history of destructive capitalism. It’s polished. It’s functional. It’s characterized by a deep sense of ending. Unfortunately, it’s not that memorable.
Only recommended for fans of ecologically-themed SF (me!).
Paul Lehr’s cover for Analog, ed. Stanley Schmidt (January 1980)
3.75/5 (Good)
“Detailed Silence” first appeared in Analog Science Fiction/Science Fact, ed. Stanley Schmidt (January 1980). You can read it online here.
“Detailed Silence” (1980) is my favorite of Kennedy’s first four published short stories. It takes place on one of the few landmasses of Beta Hydri, an alien aquatic planet. On this outcropping surrounded by a vast still ocean, live an alien species called Rainbows by humans. While the exact nature of their ability to communicate remains unknown, the human denizens of the local mining station (an outpost of a collapsing human polity) grow close to the baboon-like creatures. The Rainbows, eager to please, assist the miners by bringing tools and provide comfort (like pets) in the isolation of the base.
In the background, a vast inter-system battle rages between the Eridani Mix (a human faction allied with the Plaps, the only other sentient aliens in the region) and the Galactic Allies (another Earth-derived faction). The G.A. is losing the war. And Beta Hydri will not remain isolated for long.
The story follows Casey, the Director General of the mining community, who struggles with his own traumas and dark shadows. There’s a reason he was sent to a small outpost. Even in a time of war, men know the name Casey and the atrocity he perpetuated. On Beta Hydri, Casey attempts to wrestle with his past and find some form of redemption in the kindness he does to the Rainbows. But the war is coming. Will he repeat a pattern from his past?
I enjoyed this one! It’s a look the corrosive nature of war, the effects of PTSD, the desire for redemption by the the unredeemable. Simultaneously, Kennedy effectively evokes the sense isolation on an alien world and tension within the community towards Casey as the Eridani Mix advance. I also can’t help but imagine that the seeds of her later Nebula-nominated shocker “Her Furry Face” (1983) were first planted here.
Artifact’s interior art for Leigh Kennedy’s “Speaking10 to Others2; Speaking3 to Others20” in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, ed. George H. Scithers (June 1981)
3.75/5 (Good)
“Speaking10 to Others2; Speaking3 to Others20” first appeared in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, ed. George H. Scithers (June 1981). You can read it online here.
Dr. Naomi Verez, “classifiable as either linguist or scientist” (108), works for the Institute for Cassiopeian Studies, which processes information from sent by the alien Cassiopeians. Due to their “cognitive processes, speech patterns, and scientific method,” communication had not yet proceeded far beyond “greetings!” and “mathematical language” (106). Unfortunately, as Dr. Verez explains to his new assistant Sheldon Bernstein, the Cassiopeians use “unknown methods of proof” for theoretical mathematics and don’t understand “our physics” (107). Hence, the purpose of the Institute, sift through the data to identify a bridge for understanding.
Verez, in part from her attempts to translate their poetry, believes that the Cassiopeian sensory apparati understand the “rhythm, waves, and vibrations” of the universe (111). Is it possible for humans to understand? Do they lack something that would make comprehension possible? Would identifying the lack assist the Cassiopeians in their own attempts to communicate? Sheldon and Verez’s interactions–the youthful desire to find the big discovery via impulsive flashes of genius vs. and the more senior scholar’s systematic approach–form the underlying story. She also notices his “gradual disillusionment with the glamour of the Institute, [and] surprise at the tediousness of the work” (113). She also notices his desire to claim her own research as his own. While she has been a “flexible partner” (117) to scholars from many fields, she brands Sheldon’s tactics as “seeking glory” (118). In a moment of Verez’s anguish, a colleague utters the crux of the story: “how will we learn to communicate with aliens if we can’t speak to each other?” (118). She begins to see a younger version of herself in Sheldon. And desires reproachment…
I enjoyed this story and its all-to-real moments of research tedium, insight into academia and the cut-throat nature of research, and petty intellectual rivalries. It’s got that sense of literary precision and all wrapped up around a classic hard science fictional core–the nature of alien communication.
Recommended if you’re in the mood for a subdued take on the human side of the research necessary to understand first contact.
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Science Fiction and Other Suspect Ruminations 
I remember “Speaking10 to Others2; Speaking3 to Others20” from when it was new (had a subscription to Asimovs), and remember enjoying it too (it has a hard to forget title too).
Yeah, it’s a deceptively smart little story. I enjoy gritty little windows into the hellscape that is academia (which I know all too well). And of course the hard scientific premise of first contact the nature of alien linguistics pulls you in. Science fiction movies with professors “researching” almost always ring a false bell. A lot of research is sitting around in an office surrounded by printouts contemplating, struggling, reading, worrying. And getting wrapped up in rivalries. Getting annoyed at grad students and assistants… wondering if your paper will get accepted for publication. Getting pissed that someone hasn’t cited something you wrote. Google-searching compulsively to see if any new articles have arguments similar to your own. And Kennedy, in distinctly early 80s fashion, of course, channels some of that.
Unfortunately she abruptly stopped publishing in Asimov’s post-“Her Furry Face” (1983) backlash (which I also need to read soon). Do you remember that one? Apparently they received hundreds of complaints.
Yes, I remember that one, but had forgotten (if I ever knew) about the complaints (when I subscribed, they were still getting letters of complaint about Pohl’s Cool War!)
What were the complaints about the Pohl? I’ve not read that particular Pohl novel.
It’s been a long time, but I believe that sex existed in the novel.
Haha, in “Her Furry Face” a human falls for a female alien that looks like an orangutan and is rebuffed. EDIT: Per Kev below, it’s not actually an alien, it’s just an orangutan that’s learned sign language.
More details. The main character in “The Cool War” is a Unitarian minister named Hornswell “Horny” Hake. That might have been part of the problem.
In other lettercol memories, when Analog published “Shuttle Down” (by Lee Correy), there was an angry letter because a married character had slept with someone not his wife
What I snarkily call the early 80s New Wave backlash… That said, when I review “Her Furry Face” I’ll probably go look at what they said about it.
I found this letter in April 13, 1981 issue (excerpt); since there was apparently a lengthy back and forth, I might dig in some more at the Internet Archive
Thanks for the quote!
Great to see Leigh Kennedy getting attention. Her irregular publishing history has probably cost her some acclaim unfortunately. Part of this was health, I think. She was unwell after the twins were born and lost momentum. (Daughter Lizzie by the way has done a series of YA novels.) Part of it was that her two novels and a number of her short stories sit on the absolute periphery of Genre and miss out from either direction. They can be quite subtle and muted too.
Yeah, some the stories in her collection Faces which I acquired recently seem to be on “the absolute periphery of genre.”
She writes extensively about her breaks in publishing, intensive writers block, and the effect of moving to the UK in 1985 here: https://web.archive.org/web/20121106223330/http://www.pspublishing.co.uk/leigh-kennedy-1234-p.asp
Her productive period in Asimov’s and other American magazines coincided with her time with Waldrop in Austin, Texas. She implies in her account that Waldrop had little interest in living on more than just what was necessary.
No, the Orangutan is not an alien, it’s just an Orangutan. One of several the protagonist is trying to teach sign language, and who he anthropomorphises to an unhealthy level.
Ah, got it. Thanks. Haven’t read it yet.
I’m surprised to hear you say that about Omni magazine. Have you read many of the stories published under Ellen Datlow’s editorship? The pre-Datlow magazine looked like it tended to be average, but I have always felt that Omni under Datlow was the closest the American genre magazine market ever got to Moorcock’s New Worlds and Interzone. I collect as many of the Datlow edited Omni Science Fiction anthologies as I find. I loved that you never knew exactly what Datlow was going to publish in Omni, but you knew it would be on the literary end of the spectrum, plus she was encouraging the then-younger generation of authors who would go on to become known as the Cyberpunks.
I have wanted to read Kennedy’s Saint Hiroshima for a while, but it seems to be rare (I’m sure I could have found a copy online if I gave in and went that route), but I did find The Journal of Nicholas the American, which bears some similarity with Silverberg’s Dying Inside.
It’s a shame Kennedy didn’t continue writing novels; I believe her style worked best as what would later be called “Slipstream”, as her fiction seems to often blur science fiction, fantasy, horror, and mainstream literature.
I have not read a ton from Omni so my comment was only based on what I’ve covered. But yes, I have read a few published in the early 80s that coincide with Datlow.
A few others from Omni that I’ve covered on the site:
Nancy Kress’ “And Whether Pigs Have Wings” (1979) https://sciencefictionruminations.com/2022/02/26/short-story-reviews-nancy-kress-the-earth-dwellers-1976-a-delicate-shade-of-kipney-1978-and-and-whether-pigs-have-wings-1979/
Melisa Michaels’ “I Am Large, I Contain Multitudes” (1982) https://sciencefictionruminations.com/2021/11/24/short-story-reviews-melisa-michaels-in-the-country-of-the-blind-no-one-can-see-1979-i-have-a-winter-reason-1981-and-i-am-large-i-contain-multitudes-1982/
Roger Zelazny’s “Halfjack” (1979) https://sciencefictionruminations.com/2021/04/25/short-story-review-roger-zelaznys-halfjack-1979/
There are probably far more that I just don’t remember. All those listed above are average/vaguely good at best.
Those three stories would have been published prior to Datlow assuming editorship.
Looking at one of the Omni anthologies I have at hand shows such fiction as by:
Pat Cadigan
George RR Martin
Tom Maddox
Bruce McAllister
Howard Waldrop
Thomas Disch
Barry Malzberg
John Crowley
Kate Wilhelm
Michael Swanwick
All lead off by the classic Mozart in Mirrorshades by Gibson and Sterling.
That is a murder’s row of genre fiction talent in one book.
So the Michaels’ tale was from when Datlow was at the magazine. But apparently she was not involved in the anthology volume of Omni it appeared in: The Best of Omni Science Fiction No. 4 (1982) credited only to Ben Bova and Don Myrus. Adding to the confusion, it seems that Michaels’ story only appeared in the anthology, hence its 1982 publication date. Maybe it was acquired earlier pre-Datlow but didn’t find a spot in the magazine proper. Datlow started October 1981. https://www.isfdb.org/cgi-bin/ea.cgi?156
The story cropped up again in The Fourth Omni Book of Science Fiction (1985), which was edited by Datlow.
As I said, I can only base what I said on what I’ve read. And so far, when I cover an author and see a story in Omni, I sigh. Haha. I assume that eventually, as I read more, my views with shift. As I hope they do! And probably a lot of stories I read before I even started my website, back when I read a lot of cyberpunk for example, might have originally appeared in Omni.
I am very fond of Datlow as an editor. I usually find we share the same taste in fiction, although most of her career was spent involved with the horror genre, so outside of the scope of your site.
I will mention that Datlow reprinted “Her Furry Face” in the Alien Sex anthology (which I also found a very impressive anthology). I’d like to think it would have received a warmer response from readership had Datlow originally published the story in the pages of Omni. Gardner Dozois did include it in his Year’s Best Science Fiction too, so it wasn’t only Datlow who would have disagreed with the backlash.
Because so much of her edited work is outside the era I study, I confess ignorance (other than what I have read about her). I am the first to admit that most of the 80s SF I read was before I started my website and thus before I started narrowing in on 1945-1985 date range. Currently, the later into the 80s the less interested I am in the science fiction — the historian’s focus on particular topics in history (and what SF can say about them) dictates so much of what I want to read vs. the quality of the story itself.
So yeah, if any Omni stories from early in her tenure were super appealing to you, let me know. If they fit some series or future project I’m working on, or intrigue my flighty whim, I might give them a read!
“Detailed Silence” (the correct title) can be found here:
AN_1980_01.pdf
at page 140ff.
To answer the question you often ask, I have read some of her stories, but don’t remember which; just have the impression of a very capable and literate writer.
Thank you for the correction. Alas, I am but one man with no time. I actually started this post two years ago… I should have rechecked for a PDF online.
Yes, I thought these four stories formed a really good start to her career. I look forward to reading the subsequent batch up to “Her Furry Face” (1983).
Kennedy’s collection Faces is one I’ve always meant to read but haven’t got round to. I’ve heard good things about it. Her stuff is fairly scarce – in the traditional medium – but I keep an eye open.
On the subject of Christopher Priest’s other halves, Nina Allan is turning some good stuff out, though well outside your era.
Fascinating reading as always, many thanks.
I’ve never found a copy of her work in a used book store. I had to give in and use the interwebs…. alas. If you get to one of her stories, let me know!