RA tu R e cOveRINg All ShORt S

Utilising classic dystopian, sci-fi and fantastical tropes, Nottingham’s Giselle Leeb has just published her first short story collection, Mammals, I Think We Are Called. Musing on what it means to be human in a modern age, it’s a weird, wonderful and often ambiguous anthology. We catch up with the author to talk about environmental themes, genre bending and her philosophy as an author…

Some people think that good fiction should make you reflect. Others think that a great story should transport you into another world. But what if it could do both? Well, that’s exactly what you’ll find in this new short story collection. Thoughtful, bizarre and fantastical, Mammals, I Think We Are Called is an anthology of true dystopian merit, which leads the reader through a series of stories ranging from the ecological to the technological. Written by Nottingham-based author Giselle Leeb, and published by Salt Publishing, it’s a triumph.

In Leeb’s own words, a collection about “living in the 21st century and how change also changes us”, it’s an anthology split up into eighteen stories, all of which are informed by the author’s interest in the changing world. Difficult to pin down to one single genre, Leeb explains that she’s most comfortable without a hard definition. “I relate to genres like Weird Fiction, New Weird and maybe Literary Fantasticism, but genre-bending is the best way to describe my book,” she says, adding that she also likes Slipstream as a genre.

A term that this LeftLion writer certainly hadn’t heard of, Slipstream can roughly be described as ‘the fiction of strangeness’. Popularised by American author James Patrick Kelly in his work The Slipstream Anthology, it’s a genre that uses dystopian and sci-fi tropes to explore the oddness of being a person in the present age. And this theme certainly comes through in Leeb’s work - whether through her stories focusing on the climate crisis, which she admits is “worrying her a lot”, or the rise of AI, which she spends a lot of time reading about.

Leeb’s work achieves this uncanny Slipstream effect by playing with contrast, and she has a knack for taking the familiar and turning it in on itself, leading the reader into a darker and twisted, but still recognisable, reality. The weatherman who looks for hope in flooding London. The lightning ball that falls onto a coffee shop. The robo-human who is studying ancient history. Throughout the anthology, Leeb succeeds by taking the comfortable things we know, and following them to uncanny and strange ends.

While reading, you may be reminded of classic dystopian writers like Aldous Huxley, Yevgeny Zamyatin or J. G. Ballard, but it’s authors like George Saunders who Leeb credits as inspiration, alongside non-fiction authors like Yuval Noah Harari. An American writer of novels and short stories, Leeb finds the nuance in Saunders’ writing the most inspiring factor of his work. “He’s amazing at writing bizarre stories and he’s very political but he never shoves a message down your throat,” she explains. “Instead, he just writes the stories and his interests come out.”

Using this as a guideline, Leeb’s stories are likewise often political but also subtle. Assistant Editor of the environmental journal Reckoning, it’s no surprise that many of the stories do have a climate theme to them - however, they aren’t moralistic or lecturing. The tales, including the likes of The Edge of Seasons, Grow Your Gorilla and The Goldfinch is Fine, engage with complex themes like global warming and overconsumption, but they do so with a keen eye to character, plot and pleasure. In short, they’re still enjoyable to read.

Leeb has a knack for taking the familial and turning it in on itself, leading the reader into a darker and twisted, but still recognisable, reality

In fact, this can be said about Leeb’s writing as a whole. It is both thought-provoking and also entertaining, perhaps because of the author’s constant focus on building a sense of atmosphere. “The atmosphere was very important to me,” Leeb muses. “I spent a lot of time in the stories building atmosphere and trying to capture that sense of the uncanny which we all feel.” An aim which is absolutely actualised, the stories read as thick with ambience, despite each only being a few pages long. Likewise, the collection is great when it comes to variety and experimentation with form. Some stories follow a more traditional structure while others take more unique angles. “I think the structure and style changed depending on the type of story, which I liked,” Leeb says, “and that’s the great thing about the short story - that you can do what you want. So, all the stories in the collection could be different styles while still being linked by that fantastical element and a couple of themes.”

A collection that manages to balance heavy topics, while also leaving the reader with a sense of hope, Leeb hits a balance. “I’m really interested in writing about both the dark and light because we walk in both those spaces, and everything in between,” she asserts, commenting that overall, she just “hopes people enjoy it”. An excellent piece of work (in my humble opinion), it’s safe to say that this hope has been achieved. Skillfully ambiguous, dark and also optimistic, Mammals, I Think We Are Called is a wonderful contribution to the local literary world. You can purchase Mammals, I Think We Are Called from Salt Publishing

lONg St ORY ShOR t

Novels, poetry, plays. I’m a big fan of stories told in any structure. I don’t think that any are superior or inferior. There is, however, one format that I dedicate this column to. One which helps new writers break into the industry, allows authors to try out experimental ideas, and is great for new readers too. That is, of course, the short story.

First emerging (in the way we now know it) in the nineteenth century, the short story was popularised by the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Arthur Conan Doyle and (my personal favourite) Shirley Jackson. Defined as a brief fictional prose, often with a less complex narrative and fewer characters, it’s a really unique form. Why? Because by design, the author has less space, therefore they have to be very precise in their prose and meaning.

For this reason, some of the most powerful messages in literature are told in short story form. Take Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery, the infamous gothic short story which captures mob mentality in small-town America. Or Shooting an Elephant by George Orwell, the metaphorical short criticising British Imperialism in the 1930s. These are really important stories that don’t span more than a few pages.

words: Jaden Morton photos: Tyrone Lewis

And if we put aside the ‘classics’ for a minute, the short story form is amazing for new writers too. Many authors get their first published work in literary periodicals and magazines. It’s a way to break into the industry and get your first paid gig. From uber famous magazines like The New Yorker or The Paris Review, to smaller literary periodicals like The Stinging Fly, there are thousands of publishers championing short stories. So, with that in mind, if you have an idea, get your pen to paper. The next best short story might be written by you.

The short story form is amazing for new writers. Many authors get their first published work in literary periodicals

Originally launching in London, Bad Betty Press have built a reputation for being at the forefront of a thriving poetry scene. Having recently relocated to Nottingham, we catch up with co-owners Amy Acre and Jake Hall to talk about the relationship between poet and editor, alongside their bustling events calendar…

In the late spring of 2017, Amy Acre and Jake Hall decided to start an indie press, and Bad Betty was born - launching into the publishing scene with hopes of releasing work that was packed with grit and guts, left readers sucker-punched, and held no prisoners with its literary ambitions. Rarely doing things in half measures, the founding of Bad Betty coincided with the birth of their daughter. Overnight, Amy and Jake became parents and business owners at the forefront of indie publishing. Six years later they are still stirring up excitement in the poetry scene with an impressive portfolio of anthologies, collections, and pamphlets. With boundary-pushing contemporary poets on their roster, Bad Betty continue to platform a diverse pool of both new voices and established names.

After uphauling their life in London, Amy and Jake have moved their family and business to Nottingham. They are certain to find home in this thriving city of literature, integrating with a lively arts scene and growing events programmes. While sitting down with Jake and Amy, they reflect on the mammoth year they’ve had as an indie press. “We’ve had such a good balance of writers and styles that sit really well together, there’s a lot of shared themes that feel like part of a conversation, but then everyone’s got their distinct voice,” Amy comments. “I’m very proud of the last year, and all those books.”

Jake and Amy are fierce advocates for their authors; they not only act as publishers, but double as publicists, mentors, and cheerleaders. They centre the relationship between their poets and the community in their work as a press, and this is displayed in their impressive events schedule. In 2022, they topped a successful year of publishing with an epic fourteen-stop UK tour. As Jake explains, “This was a special year for us, everything felt right. Our authors, the Arts Council application, moving to Nottingham, putting out twelve books, the biggest tour we’ve ever done, then winning the Michael Marks, we could’ve cut scene there and left happy.”

Their advocacy for their poets, continual community outreach, and skilful editing won them the Michael Marks award in November 2022. Outsourcing talent such as Gboyega Odubanjo and Anja Konig enabled Amy to bring together editors with creators, with her artistic process relying on an alchemy of talent and creativity.