A review by carmenghia
Fen by Daisy Johnson

2.0

I seldom enjoy short stories. They feel like half-formed lumps of clay that the sculptor has only begun to shape, that just when the story starts to coalesce, you turn the page and it's over and here is another lump of clay to work with. These are loosely tied together through setting and a couple of references, and thematically are similar as well. But in the end I wish the author had just picked one and worked it into cohesion.