Readers and writers of books that became known as urban fantasy—let’s call it urban fantasy/paranormal from here on out—were ready for it because, well, its time had come. Outside of literary influences—including comic book heroines—strong women heroes like Ellen Ripley in the Alien series (1979, 1986, 1992, and 1997) and Sarah Connor in the first two Terminator movies (1984 and 1991) made an impression in film. And although the protagonist is male, The Crow (1994) was, at its core, a supernatural love story inextricably tied to the modern city. Like The Crow, the 1998 vampire-action film Blade (1998) was based on a comic. Its macho human-vampire hybrid protected humans against vampires—but why couldn’t a woman do the same?
Television series were another influence. Beauty and the Beast (original run: 1987–1990 on CBS) updated the old tale of the noble man-beast. His love was a smart assistant district attorney in New York. He lived among other social outcasts under the city. Nick Knight, a TV movie released in 1989, was about a vampire working as a police detective in modern day Los Angeles. In 1992, CBS reshaped it as a series, Forever Knight. It ran three seasons, ending in 1996. The X-Files (originally aired from 1993 to 2002 on Fox) is considered by many as the defining series of the nineties. Despite its science fictional trappings and conspiracy theories, true believer Fox Mulder and skeptic Dana Scully were paranormal investigators. The protagonist of the Xena: Warrior Princess, a supernatural fantasy adventure series that aired in syndication 1995–2001, may not have been modern or urban, but she was a formidable fighter seeking her redemption by helping others.
Since the first books that became known as urban fantasy/paranormal were written before its existence, the authors can’t be said to have been directly inspired by Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series (1997–2003) [and its spin-off series Angel (1999–2004)]. But many of those who later became its readers and writers probably were.
The Buffy series was darker than Whedon’s action-comedy/horror parody film of the same name (1992) and better conveyed his concept of an empowered woman fighting monsters (metaphors for problems that humans, especially teenagers, face).
Buffy Summers had “kickassitude”—and by kickassitude I don’t necessarily mean violence. In slang, the word originally meant awesome, cool, something that “kicks ass” in a positive manner. As far as female examples, the easiest comparisons are women in rock who displayed kickassitude: Joan Jett, Chrissie Hynde, Patti Smith, Janis Joplin, Lita Ford, Deborah Harry, etc.
And, like rock-and-roll, Buffy had meaning but was also a lot of fun.
Books have been written on the pop cultural meaning and impact of Buffy. Let’s just sum it up by saying Buffy borrowed from folklore, myth, literature, film, and television for serialized episodes that were part of a larger story arc. Although a drama, there was plenty of comedy and genre-blending from romance, science fiction, martial arts, action, and more. Buffy and her friends were saving the world from supernatural threat with a combination of investigation, physical combat, and magic. She was also struggling with her role as a “chosen” heroine and learning about herself as a person.
But even if not recognized as such, the urban fantasy/paranormal heroine was definitely around pre-Buffy (and even pre-Hamilton) in fantasy literature.
Mercedes Lackey’s Diana Tregarde first appeared in a couple of short stories and then in three novels: Burning Water (1989), Children of the Night (1990), and Jinx High (1991). An American witch whose day job is writing romance novels, Diana is a Guardian. This gives her more magical power, but also the responsibility of providing aid to those who ask her for help. In the three books (published by Tor as horror) she provides protection from angry deities, vampires, and a sorceress.
Tanya Huff ’s Blood books (five novels and a collection of short stories) mixed a strong heroine with vampires, mystery, suspense, and romance. Blood Price (1991) introduced Vicki Nelson, a homicide detective forced to retire when her eyesight fails due to Retinitis pigmentosa. Vicki teams up with Henry Fitzroy—a 450-year-old vampire and bastard son of Henry VIII—and becomes a private investigator. The other man in her life is Detective-Sergeant Mike Celluci. The series is set in Toronto. The books became the basis of a short-lived TV series, Blood Ties, which premiered on Lifetime in 2007.
The urban fantasy/paranormal heroine owes a lot to the tradition of the hard-boiled tough-guy American detective genre—there were tough gals, too, like Gale Gallagher, Honey West, V. I. Warshawski, and Kinsey Millhone—and to stories of “occult detectives” and various “vampire detectives.” She is also derived from sword and sorcery and is a female incarnation of the action-adventure hero. Most of all, she’s relevant to the here and now. It may be fantasy, but urban fantasy/paranormal says a lot about our fears and hopes, our cynicism and angst, our personal journeys and cultural climate.
In the last five years—a period that saw the phenomenal success of Stephenie Meyer’s young adult vampire-romance fantasy series and its consequent film versions; movies like Underworld; Blood Ties on TV; Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse novels become the HBO series True Blood; and young adult urban fantasy/paranormal romance series were introduced—urban fantasy/ paranormal boomed. So many titles were published—some good, some bad, some in-between; some derivative, some highly original—it became impossible for even the most devoted fan to keep up with it all, especially since it takes multiple volumes for the whole story to be told.
That’s one disadvantage of uf/p: It tends to be written best in novel form—in multiple sequential volumes at that! You simply don’t find many high-caliber short stories that completely fit the model. I’m not even sure all the fine stories selected for the pertinent section of this anthology can be assigned to this subgenre.
What I think you will find, however, is that all of the fiction collected here has something in common: An intersection of “the other”—the magical, the strange, the weird, the wondrous, the dark that illumines, the revelation of the hidden—with the mundane, the world we know.
Our world is in perpetual need of this otherness. It entertains and, at its best, enlightens. We need both.
Companions to the Moon
Charles de Lint
“I think Edric’s cheating on me.”
Gwen’s eyes widen, then fill with sympathy.
We’re sitting across from each other at a small table in the Half Kaffe Café. It’s a regular haunt of ours—as Bohemian as Gwen can tolerate, and about as uptown as I’ll go. They make an excellent cup of regular coffee, but they also serve the fancy chi-chi drinks that she likes. Decaf soy lattes. Chai teas.
“Oh, Mary,” she says. “That’s awful.”
I’ve known Gwen forever. We were best friends from kindergarten all the way through to our final year of high school when I made a sharp turn into garage rock-slash-punkdom, while Gwen suddenly became this responsible young woman aiming for university whom I couldn’t recognize anymore. It felt like it happened overnight. One moment we were doing everything together—Girl Guides, piano lessons, messing about in the woods behind her house—the next we were strangers.
But while we drifted apart—I couldn’t care less about a house in the suburbs, or worry about finding a good job, and the last thing Gwen would do is listen to the Clash or
come to a Stooges concert with me—we made an effort to stay friends. Once or twice a month we had lunch, or the occasional dinner, and caught up. Sometimes we even brought our husbands.
Okay, Edric and I aren’t married. But seven years together is almost as good as, don’t you think?
“How did you find out?” she asks.
“Well, I haven’t, exactly. It’s just this feeling I get.”
Gwen nods wisely. She starts to tick off points on her fingers. “Doesn’t seem as interested in you anymore. Hang-ups when you pick up the phone. Has to work late a lot more often than he used to.”
“None of the above. You forget, he’s always out late.”
“Duh,” she says and slaps her brow with the palm of her hand. “Working musician.”