{"id":1956,"date":"2016-09-20T22:26:09","date_gmt":"2016-09-20T22:26:09","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=1956"},"modified":"2016-10-07T19:34:31","modified_gmt":"2016-10-07T19:34:31","slug":"the-magazine-of-fantasy-and-science-fiction-727-september-october-2016","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=1956","title":{"rendered":"The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction #727, September-October 2016"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"fsf20160910x600\"<\/p>\n

Other Reviews:
\nSteve Fahnestalk, Amazing Stories<\/a>
\nGreg Hullender\u00a0and Eric Wong, Rocket Stack Rank<\/a>
\nDavid Loyd, There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch<\/a>
\nSam\u00a0Tomaino, SF Revu<\/a>
\nClancy Weeks, Tangent Online<\/a>
\nVarious, Goodreads<\/a><\/p>\n

Fiction:
\nTalking to Dead People<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Sarah Pinsker \u2665\u2665\u2665
\nThe Green-Eyed Boy<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Peter S. Beagle \u2665
\nThe Voice in the Cornfield, the Word Made Flesh<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Desirina Boskovich \u2665\u2665\u2665+
\nA Melancholy Apparition<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Ian Creasey \u2665\u2665
\nThe Further Adventures of Mr. Costello<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by David Gerrold \u2665\u2665\u2665+
\nThe Dunsmuir Horror<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novella by David Gerrold \u2665
\nAnything for You<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Lisa Mason \u2665\u2665
\nThose Shadows Laugh<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Geoff Ryman \u2665\u2665\u2665+
\nCupid\u2019s Compass<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Leah Cypess \u2665\u2665\u2665
\nThe Sweet Warm Earth<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Steven Popkes \u2665\u2665<\/p>\n

Non-fiction:
\nCover<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 David Hardy
\nCartoons<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 Arthur Masear, S. Harris, Danny Shanahan
\nEditorial<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by C. C. Finlay
\nBooks to Look For<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by Charles de Lint
\nMusing on Books<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by Michelle West
\nThe Amazing Mr. Gerrold<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
\nMy Life in Science Fiction<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by David Gerrold
\nThe Dragon<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 poem by Aimee Ogden
\nAnimal Husbandry<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 film review\u00a0by Kathi Maio
\nComing Attractions <\/em><\/strong>
\nCuriosities: The Adventures of Hatim Tai, by Anonymous (1830)<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Robert Eldridge<\/p>\n

This is a special issue\u2014the first that F&SF<\/em> has published for some time\u2014featuring David Gerrold.1<\/sup> I\u2019ll deal with the other fiction first before I move onto that part of the issue.
\nTalking to Dead People<\/em><\/strong> by Sarah Pinsker is about two university students who start building \u2018murder houses.\u2019 These are models of crime-scene houses with an AI chip so that one\u00a0can cross-examine\u00a0the persons involved in and around the crime. Eliza is the brains behind the idea, and Gwen ends up as an employee building the houses. They are a big success and in some cases the AIs are able to make intuitive leaps that progress the sometimes stalled investigations.
\nThe relationship between the two students breaks down when the Eliza gives Gwen a model of her own house for a Xmas present. Gwen\u2019s younger brother went missing while she was a child.
\nThe ending wasn\u2019t what I expected\u2014I thought the disappearance was going to be solved\u2014and I felt slightly short-changed. It works in its own way, however.
\nThe Green-Eyed Boy<\/em><\/strong> by Peter S. Beagle is a prequel to his novel The Last Unicorn<\/em>. It is told by an old wizard to a third party and tells of a youth called Schmedrick being apprenticed and not doing particularly well before he goes on to be famous. These anecdotes are not particularly engaging and at the end it just stops; this reads\u00a0more like an extract than a story.
\nThe Voice in the Cornfield, the Word Made Flesh<\/em><\/strong> by Desirina Boskovich initially starts with an alien crash-landing on Earth. It makes an attempt to mentally contact a young girl, but this overwhelms and kills her.
\nThe story then moves to two of the women in the Mennonite community the girl lives in. One is newly married and pregnant, the other already has a young family and is struggling with both them and an abusive husband. Parts of this have echoes of Leigh Brackett (the Mennonite community) and Zenna Henderson (the rural setting):<\/p>\n

The creature oozes and drifts to a small stand of maples, and feathers its mind on the breeze, sending out signals of distress. But its psychic overtures are met with silence. Help? Help me? Nothing.
\nThen, reaching out, reaching back, the tiny curiosity of tiny minds: a mole, tunneling beneath. A garter snake, slithering. A family of mice, scampering. A passing parade of insects. <\/em>
\nAll small of ambition, small of stature, small of mind.
\nThe creature accepts their sympathy as gently as it can, knowing they cannot understand, knowing they will not help.<\/em><\/p>\n

This is more of an autobiographical story than an SF one\u2014the alien element isn’t really central\u2014but is a compelling read for all that. Although there is a positive ending of sorts\u00a0it\u00a0is rather overwhelmed by the bleakness that precedes it.
\nA Melancholy Apparition<\/em><\/strong> by Ian Creasey is a story set in the 18th century and narrated by James Boswell about his and the renowned Dr Samuel Johnson\u2019s visit to a family in the north. While dining there they learn that the owner has been seeing apparitions of his recently deceased daughter.
\nThis has a very good period setting but as a ghost story it fizzles out at the end to become more a story of the personal deficiencies of the owner and Boswell himself. I hope the author writes about these characters again, perhaps married to a more satisfying story.2<\/sup>
\nAnything for You<\/em><\/strong> by Lisa Mason is a darkish satire about a man addicted to an interactive TV series and infatuated with its star character, the surgeon Dr Viginia Isley. He is obsessed with her to the point of his marriage breaking down around him. This is enjoyable but too open-ended for me; either that or I missed the point. There is one passage from the couple\u2019s marriage counselling sessions I noted:<\/p>\n

\u201cSome think fiction is truer than life,\u201d the counselor says, trying to catch his eye.
\n\u201cHow can that be?\u201d his wife says, skeptical now as well as annoyed.
\n\u201cWell, because narrative structure is an essential need of the human mind. A way of making sense of the mess of real experience. A pedagogical device, too, because the stringencies of a plot presented by a story force us to see meaning in what would otherwise be chaos.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Those Shadows Laugh<\/em><\/strong> by Geoff Ryman is the sole novelette in the issue. This is an original story about a parallel world that has an island\/continent of women who reproduce pathenogenically. The story is narrated by a female scientist who is there to do some gene-splicing that will improve their genetic health: the numbers of birth defects among their children has been rising\u00a0steadily as they have only five matrilineal lines.
\nThe general form of the story is that of an outsider failing to understand or appreciate a\u00a0markedly different society, in that the female scientist becomes infatuated with one of the natives and subsequently seduces her. This process and the aftermath allows Ryman to use this novel and unusual\u00a0society to hold up a mirror to \u2018normal\u2019 human traits such as sexual desire, possession and self-deception.
\nAlthough I found it a little hard to get into the story (the first few pages in particular seem a little stilted) it really grew on me and, by the end, I found it quite fascinating. One we\u2019ll be seeing in the \u2018Best of the Year\u2019 anthologies, I suspect.
\nCupid\u2019s Compass<\/em><\/strong> by Leah Cypess is an amusing Sheckleyesque satire about two people who become a couple as a result of a new neurological technique for inducing love in complete strangers. In due course they get married and have a kid but then problems arise. There are a number of quite funny passages in this one, such as when the CEO of the company offering this process is talking to the woman and her friend\u00a0about the payment plan:<\/p>\n

\u201cWe are trying to get it covered by insurance. Statistically, married people tend to live longer and experience fewer health problems, so we have a good case.\u201d Larissa sighed and propped her chin up with one hand. \u201cUnfortunately, we\u2019re constantly blocked by the online dating lobby.\u201d
\n\u201cBeing single isn\u2019t a disease,\u201d Julie snapped, against her better judgment. Mindy had driven her to Cupid\u2019s Compass, and that half-hour car ride had exhausted her tolerance for being pitied. \u201cIt\u2019s this unhealthy obsession with another person that\u2019s a disease. And the fact that our society worships that disease is just\u2026uh\u2026\u201d At that point, her eloquence failed her. \u201cAnother disease.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Or when the CEO describes how the process works:<\/p>\n

Larissa cleared her throat. \u201cYou and your future soul mate will be fitted with helmets that produce a rotating magnetic field over the temporal lobes of your brains. When you meet each other, our techs will turn the helmets on, and a particular frequency and pattern of the field will be generated that will induce deep feelings of attraction, caring, and a sense that you are incomplete without each other. It usually takes only a few minutes, and studies have shown no negative side effects except for passing feelings of nausea and a few days of insomnia.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The Sweet Warm Earth<\/em><\/strong> by Steven Popkes is an early-1960s mob enforcer story into which is dropped an elderly Italian man who would seem to be a horse whisperer. There are subsequent family\/mob problems but this effort turns out to be more a slice-of-life period piece than a story.<\/p>\n

David Gerrold contributes two stories to this special issue, the first of which is The Further Adventures of Mr. Costello<\/em><\/strong>.\u00a0This novella starts by establishing the narrator in his multiple marriage group on Haven, a planet that has an independent-minded type\u00a0of settler and a strange ecosystem. The latter involves a plant called the glitter-bush which produces a crop that is part honey and part seed, and the horgs, an aggressive and dangerous herd creature which\u00a0eat the plants:<\/p>\n

Horgs are . . . well, they\u2019re big, they\u2019re ugly, they smell bad, and they\u2019re meaner than anything else on the planet, even humans, especially when they\u2019re in rut. Horgs have only one sex\u2014they don\u2019t mate, they fight until exhausted. Or dead. The winner stabs the loser with a spiked penis. The sperm make their way through the bloodstream to the egg sac, where a litter of little horgs gets started.
\nSometimes the brood-horg survives, sometimes it doesn\u2019t. Horgs aren\u2019t choosy, sometimes they poke other things\u2014even humans. When they do that, when there\u2019s no eggs available, the sperm self-fertilizes, turns into mini-horgs, and the litter eat their way out. Not pretty. You get a couple hundred rat-sized critters. The big horgs eat \u2018em. And if it\u2019s a horg with ripe eggs, they get fertilized that way. Crazy biology, but it works.
\nSome people think Horg meat is a delicacy. I\u2019m not one of them.
\nSome people say that if horg meat is fixed right, it\u2019s delicious. They can have my share. I\u2019ve seen what an angry horg can do. And a horny one.<\/em><\/p>\n

Matters develop when an off-worlder called Mr Costello arrives and announces he wants to start exporting horg meat. As everyone who has previously attempted this is in Idjit\u2019s Field, the local graveyard, the locals are only too glad to take his money. The rest of the story is how Mr Costello not only succeeds but ends up in charge of a soon to be transformed planet, much to the concern of the locals.
\nThis is an entertaining, colourful and well developed tale but I have a couple of caveats, one minor and one major.
\nThe minor one is that there is frequent reference to gender swapping in the families, and the impact on internal family relationships. I realise that this theme\u00a0is present in some recent\u00a0fiction due to the current prominence of transgender politics but can I just note, as a disinterested observer, that John Varley was doing this in his fiction back when I started reading SF magazines in 1976. It is beginning to feel quite old, not to say unimaginative. If people have the ability to easily transform their bodies in the future I don\u2019t think they are going to stop at switching between male and female.
\nThe major criticism I have is a theological one and won\u2019t affect any casual reader\u2019s appreciation of the story, so move along, nothing to see here, etc. In this story Gerrold has borrowed, with the estate\u2019s permission, the protagonist of Theodore Sturgeon\u2019s Mr Costello, Hero<\/em> (Galaxy<\/em>, December 1953). That story dealt with the scourge of McCarthyism and addressed two issues. The first was McCarthy\u2019s technique of using fear to divide and then rule over people; the second was the culpability of the people who let themselves be used in this way and\/or idolised people like McCarthy.
\nThis is a far cry from what happens in Gerrold\u2019s story. His Costello is more of a Machiavelli or a manipulator than someone who uses fear to divide and rule. Also, as the penultimate scene demonstrates (spoiler), one of the settlers ultimately refuses to be complicit in what he is planning. I know this may seem a pettifogging criticism but I read the Sturgeon story directly before this one and the differences are striking. I don\u2019t really think there was any need to co-opt Sturgeon\u2019s character for this story.<\/p>\n

Gerrold\u2019s second contribution, The Dunsmuir Horror<\/em><\/strong>, is a novella in the same series of autobiographically based stories as last issue\u2019s dire The Thing on the Shelf<\/em> (F&SF<\/em>, July-August 2106). I didn\u2019t think this one was quite as bad but I may still be numb from the last. Once again Gerrold witters on endlessly while not much happens:<\/p>\n

Let me get philosophical here. Philip K. Dick\u2014I met him once, a very strange man, he kicked me\u2014is alleged to have said, \u201cReality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn\u2019t go away.\u201d Actually, I don\u2019t think he was quite that precise. I think he said something more like, \u201cReality is all the stuff that doesn\u2019t go away when I do.\u201d
\nThe problem with any discussion of reality is that we, as human beings, are ill-equipped to experience, perceive, or even discuss reality. We like to think we understand reality\u2014we certainly talk about it as if we know what it is\u2014but in truth, we are as removed from reality as if we were tattooed by Lewis Carroll on the naked belly of an LSD-infused dormouse. And that\u2019s on a good day. Even the best of the zen masters musing on the nature of human consciousness are in denial about how much denial we\u2019re in.
\nWe exist. How do we know we exist? We argue about existence. Endlessly. We are talking goo talking about what it means to be talking goo. We are goo, therefore we are.<\/em><\/p>\n

The ever so slight plot concerns him leaving the freeway (after many, many pages of the above) and driving through a town at night. A town that subsequently turns out not to exist. This well used and ancient plot device4<\/sup> is given a couple more twists, one linked and the other a bolt-on: (spoiler) the doctors at Gerrold\u2019s asylum footnote his letter to Gordon Van Gelder with the suggestion that they add a few more fiction producing \u2018assets.\u2019
\nThere are one or two interesting jokes\/anecdotes in this but not enough to hang\u00a0a novella on.<\/p>\n

There are also several non-fiction contributions to the special issue. The Cover<\/em><\/strong> by David Hardy shows Gerrold surrounded by a montage of various items including the starship Enterprise<\/em>, tribbles and a horg amongst other things.
\nThe Editorial<\/em><\/strong> by C. C. Finlay provides a short introduction to the issue and is followed by a longer essay on Gerrold by Kristine Katherine Rusch, The Amazing Mr. Gerrold<\/em><\/strong>. As in\u00a0Finlay\u2019s piece\u00a0it does a quick tour of, amongst other things, The Trouble with Tribbles<\/em>, Star Trek<\/em> and The Martian Child<\/em> (F&SF<\/em>, September 1994). Admittedly the latter was a Hugo and Nebula winning story but I didn\u2019t really get a sense of what exactly was so special about Gerrold\u2019s fiction from the article.5<\/sup>
\nThere is a short essay by Gerrold himself, My Life in Science Fiction<\/em><\/strong>. This starts promisingly with some interesting stuff about his childhood but unfortunately degenerates into a lot of gosh-wow about SF and the people who write it.<\/p>\n

As for the rest of the non-fiction, the book review columns are beginning to strike me as the weakest part of the magazine. In his Books to Look For<\/em><\/strong> column Charles de Lint reviews five books. The first review is a useful one about Every Heart a Doorway<\/em> by Seanan McGuire. However, this is followed by a comic book, Crescent City Magick: Welcome to New Orleans<\/em> by Michael L. Peters, and then by a book on the paranormal, Real Visitors, Voices from Beyond, and Parallel Dimensions<\/em> by Brad Steiger and Sherry Hansen Steiger. This review has these comments:<\/p>\n

Kefa opens with a brief description of his interest in the connectedness of disparate paranormal phenomena and his conversion to Islam where he discovered to his surprise\u2014and certainly to mine, as well\u2014that followers of his new faith are expected to believe in Ghraib, which is Arabic for \u201cUnseen World.\u201d<\/em>
\nHe goes on to explain how his \u201cnewfound faith not only accepted the existence of the supernatural and an invisible realm beyond our senses but essentially made belief in them an article of faith. Furthermore, I found that there is within Islam a subcultural element of belief and\/or research into the Unseen World that has a history stretching back to the dawn of human existence.\u201d
\nIn my years of reading fantasy I\u2019ve come across many writers who postulate fictional connections between all of the supernatural elements of the world, making tidy sense of what seems to be pretty much unknowable. So it was especially intriguing to me to read an explanation that is an accepted part of the belief system of some twenty-two percent of the world\u2019s population.
\nThat\u2019s a lot of people.<\/em><\/p>\n

Good grief, I thought I\u2019d picked up a copy of F&SF<\/em>, not The Magazine of Superstition and the Irrational<\/em>.
\nThe next review\u00a0is an anthology, Not Just Rockets and Robots: Daily Science Fiction Year One<\/em> by Jonathan Laden and Michele-Lee Barasso. De Lint helpfully tells us we don\u2019t see more anthology reviews from him as:<\/p>\n

When it comes to collections and anthologies, I read in fits and starts. I like to take the time to think about the stories, so I don\u2019t read too many in a day, and rarely two in a row. It\u2019s the reason you see so few reviews of anthologies in this column. I just take too long to read them.<\/em><\/p>\n

No problem: I doubt the readers of F&SF<\/em> might want to read, say, a group review of all the year\u2019s \u2018Best\u2019 anthologies with associated commentary about the year in short fiction, not when there are comic and paranormal books to consider (or, in the case of the last two reviews, a YA book published in 2010 and\u00a0the second book in a Whitley Streiber series, first published in 2014).
\nWhat on Earth is going on here? De Lint has six of the twelve review columns that F&SF<\/em> runs in a year: is this really an appropriate selection of books to cover? Has the magazine got a coherent review strategy?
\nI had hoped that Musing on Books<\/em><\/strong> by Michelle West would be better but her column is probably worse than de Lint\u2019s. The second review provides an overlong, rambling and useless synopsis of the book under consideration:<\/p>\n

Pierce heads toward Severluna, where King Arden and his knights live. On the way, he meets Carrie. Carrie, like Pierce, is young; unlike Pierce, she\u2019s known both her parents all her life. Like Pierce, her parents are no longer together; unlike Pierce, her yearning and frustration and sense of entrapment are turned inward, always inward. Carrie lives in the town closest to Pierce\u2019s old home, and she works\u2014as Pierce did\u2014in a restaurant. The restaurant, in the Kingfisher Inn, isn\u2019t owned by her mother, and her mother is not a sorceress of astonishing power. She\u2019s a woman who got good and tired of living with Merle, and took off to distant parts.
\nCarrie lives with Merle, her father. And she is surrounded, always, by Merle\u2019s friends, and by the makeshift family one builds when one works and lives in close quarters. Aunt Lilith, who lives upstairs; Hal, who doesn\u2019t live with Aunt Lilith, although they\u2019re married. She lives in the shadow of Stillwater, another cook in town, whose restaurant is famous. She has spent her entire life asking questions, and no one will answer them, and she is tired of being kept in the dark.
\nDaimon is the last of the three. Like Pierce, he has spent his life without one parent; unlike Pierce, that parent was his mother. He is the bastard son of King Arden\u2014fetched, at the demand of the Queen, when his existence became known upon the death in childbirth of his mother, and brought to court, where he was raised with his half-brothers and sisters as if he were in truth a royal sibling. The Queen is not his mother, and the Queen was not particularly happy to find this evidence of her husband\u2019s infidelity\u2014but she has been a mother to Daimon for all his life, and if there was ugliness about his existence, Daimon has never been blamed by her for it.<\/em><\/p>\n

And that\u2019s only the middle part of it. The last review of the three is better but she inserts herself into this one to an extent that exceeds my interest (she would want to \u2018spend time\u2019 with one of the book\u2019s characters, who is \u2018someone I\u2019d want in my life.\u2019 She is \u2018not particularly religious\u2019 but \u2018wants to be happy\u2019. Ugh.)6<\/sup><\/p>\n

In case anyone thinks I\u2019ve become terminally dyspeptic I offer Animal Husbandry<\/em><\/strong> by Kathi Maio in my defence. This is a good film review column that uses Fatal Attraction<\/em> as a lead in to discuss The Lobster<\/em>. Contrast and compare this column with the book reviews: it has appropriate content, a concise and informative synopsis, and lucid insight. It also made me go and watch the film.
\nThe rest of the non-fiction includes the Cartoons<\/em><\/strong>, which are provided by Arthur Masear, S. Harris and Danny Shanahan, a poem called The Dragon<\/em><\/strong> by Aimee Ogden, Coming Attractions<\/em><\/strong>, and Curiosities: The Adventures of Hatim Tai, by Anonymous (1830)<\/em><\/strong> by Robert Eldridge.<\/p>\n

A mixed bag this issue, with the special issue aspects\u2014bar the first story\u2014rather underwhelming.<\/p>\n

    \n
  1. Some of the F&SF<\/em> special issues covers are here<\/a>.<\/li>\n
  2. Iain Creasy\u2019s blog post<\/a> about this story.<\/li>\n
  3. Charlotte Perkins Gilman\u2019s 1915 novel, Herland<\/em>, is mentioned in the introduction to the Ryman story and obliquely in the story.<\/li>\n
  4. For disappearing spooky towns see Twister\u00a0<\/em>by Mary Elizabeth Counselman in Weird Tales (January 1940<\/a>). Which makes the idea at least 76 years old.<\/li>\n
  5. Gerrold\u2019s entry at SFE<\/a> doesn\u2019t exactly sing his praises either.<\/li>\n
  6. I am not oblivious to the fact there are personal aspects to some of my posts but those are generally in the footnotes. Also, there is a big difference between an amateur blog covering magazines old and new, and a professional magazine review of currently published material.<\/li>\n<\/ol>\n

    This magazine is still being published!<\/b> Subscribe: Kindle UK<\/a>, Kindle USA<\/a>\u00a0or physical copies<\/a>.<\/p>\n\"rss\"<\/a>\"rss\"<\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    Other Reviews: Steve Fahnestalk, Amazing Stories Greg Hullender\u00a0and Eric Wong, Rocket Stack Rank David Loyd, There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch Sam\u00a0Tomaino, SF Revu Clancy Weeks, Tangent Online Various, Goodreads Fiction: Talking to Dead People \u2022 short story by Sarah Pinsker \u2665\u2665\u2665 The Green-Eyed Boy \u2022 short story by Peter S. Beagle […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":true,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1956","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fantasy-and-science-fiction"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-vy","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1956","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1956"}],"version-history":[{"count":15,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1956\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2063,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1956\/revisions\/2063"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1956"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1956"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1956"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}