Foreword
This anthology, Best Climate Change Stories, is the product of a collaboration between an independent bookstore and an independent book publisher, both of us based in a rare, beautiful, and vulnerable piece of American coastal geography called the Eastern Shore.
Book Bin, the book’s sponsor, is located on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, and Secant Publishing, the book’s publisher, is located some sixty miles to the north on the Eastern Shore of Maryland.
In both cases, the “Eastern Shore” refers to the inland coast of a 200-mile-long peninsula that divides the waters of the Atlantic Ocean from those of the Chesapeake Bay. Bounded by the states of Maryland and Virginia, the Chesapeake is renowned for its abundant harvests of blue crabs, oysters, and rockfish; its picturesque waterfront towns and marinas; and its seminal role in the formative years of American history.
And now, centuries later, the Eastern Shore has added a new dimension of importance – that of canary in a coal mine. A combination of land subsidence, sea level rise, and storm damage has literally erased a series of populated islands in the Bay. Still more are threatened with oblivion.
On Maryland’s Eastern Shore, large tracts of desolate ghost forest have been created by saltwater intrusion on the sprawling Blackwater nature preserve and migratory flyway, while thousands of acres of salt marsh have been lost to rising waters. An oxygen-deprived dead zone appears and blooms every summer in the deeper waters of the Bay, threatening the web of life down to its very roots.
Some of these processes are geologic, some meteorologic, some anthropological – but all contribute to an increasing awareness of climate change and the inexorable power it is exerting on the quality of life many remember from just a few decades ago.
Whether inspired, overwhelmed, impressed, or depressed by these local examples, we (Philip Wilson from the Book Bin and Ron Sauder from Secant) decided to join our very finite forces and hold a worldwide contest to explore the human impact of climate change – not through science or journalism, but rather, the power of literary art. What are people feeling, we wondered? How are these trends playing out around the globe at the psychic level – whether individual or communal? We wanted imaginative interpretations of human experience, not numerical analysis or political advocacy.
Philip and I were joined by Karen Gravelle, a bestselling author who also lives on the Eastern Shore, and the three of us proceeded to advertise, promote, and eventually, sort through a gusher of entries from all over the world. (Special thanks to the contest directories at Reedsy, Duotrope, Almond Press, and ChristopherFielden.com, among others, for helping us to get the word out.)
We set no limits on location in time and space, or even on genre. We wound up with a cornucopia of stories running the gamut from humor to horror, suspense to satire, science fiction to social realism.
In the end, there were thirty-four surviving stories from thirty-four authors, hailing from nine countries and ten American states. We could have doubled the total without diminishing the richness and liveliness of the finished anthology, but we felt duty-bound to hew close to the total of thirty we promised would see the light of day.
The most torturous responsibility of the judges turned out to be picking three prize winners, again as advertised. Many, if not all, of our entries were deserving, but in the end we settled on:
Noah’s Great Rainbow, by New York writer A. A. Rubin, Gold Medal. In this societal projection of the near future, geoengineering has taken place to protect the Earth from runaway heat death. It has worked – too well. All over the world, skies are darkened, and a spiritual pall has fallen over humanity. What can one painter do?
Desert Fish, by Maryland writer K. M. Watson, Silver Medal. A solitary refugee girl has survived her family’s trek from Central America to the great American Southwest, where she is rescued by an older woman whose people claimed the land before the Europeans came. The two of them bond over small, fragile fish who survive improbably in sweeps and springs of water. How is that even possible? And how long can it last?
Beyond the Timberline, by Viennese writer Olaf Lahayne, Bronze Medal. A Swiss and Italian duo, ascending the Alps into white-knuckle territory, are startled by the discovery of a pine tree growing above its known range– enabled by global warming. As each climber proudly claims it for his own country, will he pay attention to what this rare sprout may portend for the frozen crag?
Lest anyone consider any of these fictions far-fetched, here are just a few true stories ricocheting around the media- sphere in the summer of 2024, as we prepare to go to press:
In the annual hajj,or pilgrimage to Mecca, more than 1,300 Muslim believers have died, succumbing to extreme temperatures of more than 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
In California, a trial run to “brighten clouds” with sea salt particles, thus enhancing their reflectivity to the sun’s rays, has been called off due to environmental concerns. But researchers and private funders supporting the work vow to keep trying.
Meanwhile, Mexico City is nearing “Day Zero,” when the last aquifer is tapped out and the last drought-stricken reser- voir runs dry. One of the world’slargest metro areas, boasting more than 22 million residents, may soon be unable to pump its own drinking water.
Scientists have been startled by new readings showing that the “Doomsday Glacier” on Antarctica is dissolving at an unexpected rate, undercut by warm water inflows at its base. The loss of this one glacier alone could raise sea levels by two feet worldwide.
One could go on and on, but you can write your own Google Alert and call up as many examples as you can bear to read.
Before the numbness of repeating headlines sets in, dive into our short stories for psychological insights and illuminations. We owe a debt of gratitude to these word artists who have plumbed their hearts and spirits to explore this defining issue of our day.
Enjoy. Or perhaps more aptly, read and reflect. We thank you for taking the time.
Ron Sauder
Editor Salisbury, Maryland
