And the Hunter, Home From the Hill by Edward Morris is dark and brooding superhero fiction, the way it should be written.
“Okay, it sort of looks like an ‘S.’ But that’s not the point.”
It was almost eighty years ago, when the sky fell and the mysterious visitors bestowed to two children the gift of near god-like powers. Eighty years of uncertainty, of a glimpse into the gleaming guts of the universe, of power overwhelming. Lois ran, scared out of saving the world by virtue of her responsibility. He kept his ground, became a writer, did what little good he could when he knew he wouldn’t make too many waves. But the G-Men have grown old and the Cold War is now over. The rat race has replaced the arms race and few remember those shy superhumans.
Their time is nigh.
“In the crucible of that half-hour, sitting in front of my computer in shock, the rifle-ball of my own heart melted down and turned to gold.”
Edward Morris writes like Harlan Ellison would have written superheroes, if he had mind-melded with Warren Ellis while he was having drinks with Straczynski on Garth Ennis’ tab. And the Hunter, Home From The Hill has been one of the most glorious examples of recent superhero fiction that manages not only to tell a clear and concise story, but does that without resorting into a cosmic fight scene or resorting to poking fun at the genre.
Edward Morris loves him some Superman, and while being objective over any tribute to my favorite superhero, all I have to say it this: if you think yourself too mature for comic books and too young to take SF seriously but need some good pointers on new writers that know how to punch you in the soul, read this story. You’ll be doing yourself a favor.
- 4000 words.
- Edward Morris Has a website, where he rambles and dreams. You can visit it here.
- It’s always good to see that people can pay tribute to a superhero without gushing.
- I mean, other people can. I am just a hopeless nerd.
- This story is included in Grey Matter Press’ Ominous Realities Anthology. Buy it here.
Konstantine Paradias is a Greek science fiction and fantasy writer. He has a blog, called Shapescapes (shapescapes). He’s also hard at work writing a book about Mongols in Zastavas, tearing through Asia all the way to your back yard. He has been offered a chance to know the moment of his demise, which he described as ‘hilarious’.
For comments or plain old contact, you can find him at firstname.lastname@example.org