Periphery has almost zero clichés throughout each of its 13 tales of lesbian love and distant futures where sometimes human touch is the only thing keeping people from being swallowed by the impersonal and evil dark future we imagine in most science fiction writings. The level of sophistication in these stories is really high; I was surprised that instead of bodice-ripping I got mind-and-soul-tearing. All the writing styles vary in extremely complementary ways, from the first story Origins (Marianne de Pierres) in which an alien life form has successful sexual contact with a confused woman (I guess that counts as erotica, right?) to the deliciously sensual Silver Skin (Elspeth Potter) about a future armor mesh worn by soldiers in opposing armies.

The story that is most moving and deeply involving though is Sideways (Sharon Wachsler), in which cripples in the future have become less than human, and must rely on the goodwill of their loved ones to keep from being “exterminated” for being less that “normal”. This story touches deeply on the fears that any society like our own instills in people: whether it is being queer, or being dark, or something else, the status quo shifts and in time, anyone is eligible to be persecuted for who they are if we let our government continue on this steady path to fear. Surely we all imagine and hope for a utopian future where all people exist sans war and in total harmony; more often, as reflected in some of the most important science fiction novels and stories, as well as in Periphery, is not what we think will happen. We’re living in a constant state of potential persecution, queer or not, and rationalizing that fear into a cohesive and engaging story is what Wachsler has succeeded in doing.

Lynne Jamnek and her careful editing chose stories that weave across all types of lesbian characters; old, young, professional, devious, so that there is little from which a sci-fi reader will feel alienated. And, it’s important to me to add, that while there is sexual content, it is far more tasteful than I would have expected from erotica. Lemme put it this way; it reads more like a romance novel in the sex department than a raunchy, jack-off porno rag. Which is really nice. Because it doesn’t detract from any of the intense storylines and in fact adds some spice here and there to remind us that yes, this IS lesbian sci-fi we’re reading, so don’t forget, no matter how understandable, in-depth, and entertaining any of the characters are despite their gender and sexuality and all that we "think" a lesbian character is supposed to be.

An impressive and fun (an often intellectual) work that belongs on modern lesbian feminist bookshelves, periphery is an exploratory road into speculative futures that just happen to have lesbian characters in them. Which makes the whole thing enjoyably unique. Especially for straightees like me.