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Resnick, Mike (ed) - Men Writing Science Fiction as Women / Резник, Майк (ред) - Мужчины, которые пишут НФ как женщины [2003, EPUB, ENG]

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OldOldNick

Mike Resnick (ed) - Men Writing Science Fiction as Women

Название: Men Writing Science Fiction as Women / Мужчины, которые пишут НФ как женщины
Год выпуска: 2003
Под редакцией: Resnick, Mike / Резник, Майк
Издательство: DAW Books
ISBN: 0-7564-0165-8
Формат: EPUB
Качество: OCR (Jerry eBooks)
Язык: английский

Описание:
Произведения, в которых авторы-мужчины ведут повествование от имени женщин и как бы с женской точки зрения.
Not Quite Immaculate short story by Tom Gerencer
G-Bomb short story by Ron Collins
Together Forever at the End of the World novelette by Scott Edelman
Crossing the Border short story by Barry N. Malzberg
Relativity short story by Robert J. Sawyer
A Small Goddess short story by John Teehan
A Woman's Touch short story by Ralph Roberts
Staying Still short story by Stephen Leigh
The New Breed short story by Michael A. Burstein
In the Heart of Kalikuata short story by Tobias S. Buckell
Rachel short story by M. Shayne Bell
Maternal Instincts novelette by Jack Nimersheim
Skimming Stones short story by Bradley H. Sinor
A Tale of the Oroi novelette by Robert Sheckley
Summer short story by Jack Dann
Digging in Gehenna novelette by David Gerrold
Zolo and the Jelly Ship short story by Nicholas A. DiChario
Love Story short story by Frank M. Robinson
Mom's Paradox short story by Dean Wesley Smith
A Tale of the Oroi
by Robert Sheckley


ALIX:
Like most fairies, I wasn’t sure at birth if I wanted to be basically bad or basically good. It was all very new for me then and right from the start I had many decisions to make. I hadn’t even chosen my sex, or my name. Nor did I yet have a reason for living.
A reason for living is more important to a newborn fairy than anything, even sex, which is pretty good no matter which gender you choose to be, or at what age you choose to start indulging in it.
I thought I had time to decide all that sort of thing later. But the question of what I was here for—my purpose—my reason for living—couldn’t wait, since it was what would guide, shape, and instruct my actions from this moment onward.
Things were made more difficult for me because I was alone: My parents weren’t present after I was born. Even in the long years afterward (and a fairy’s years are very long years), I never did see my father. As for my mother, all that remained of her, there in the cottage in Attica where I was born, was a fragrant memory of someone who went away shortly after giving birth to me.
. . .
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