Winter’s Wife by Elizabeth Hand

Every once in a while, I get the urge to drop everything and move back to Michigan in order to live in a shack. Winter’s Wife is not about Michigan; it’s about Maine. I’ve never been to Maine, but based on the stunning descriptions in this story, it sounds a lot like Michigan but with an ocean and an obsession with seafood instead of venison. I may be way off mark here on this, but now I’m thinking Maine might be lovely, too.

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve got a small love affair going on with magical realism. There’s something about stories that start out ordinary and then skew themselves into a strange and peculiar fantasy. The dovetail here is well worth the wait, which I don’t always think is the case. Continue reading…