Ferrett Steinmetz has become one of the major authors that I watch for short stories from because he so consistently hits the right mark, with good speculation, compelling characters, great imagination--to an extent that he's on a par with Tim Pratt who I've cited as my clear favorite short story writer for years. But this one I found quite lackluster, easily my least favorite Steinmetz story.
The whole thing read like a journal about a first trip on any kind of hallucinogen. Which is okay, I guess, if you couldn't already find accounts of those from anyone who has taken a hallucinogen--it's not like they'd be hard to find. While the telling was convincing enough that I could believe that this was a real experience, I just didn't care.
It really didn't help that the main character just irritated the hell out of me. If you need to go through a hallucinogenic experience that you really don't want to take to save a relationship because you think she might leave you, maybe you need to reconsider her investment in your relationship. If she's that easy to lose, let her go. Obviously it's easier to say that from the outside--I'm sure that breaking up wouldn't be easy, but it was just so clearly the right thing to do here, to me, that the whole story's motivations didn't work, and when nothing much happened other than the drug trip... bleh.
I'll still watch for the next Steinmetz story closely, as this is the only time I've felt disappointed that I can remember.
