"Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up another person. Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up not a person at all." From the "master of literary horror" (GQ) comes a collection of new stories tracing the limits and consequences of artificial intelligence and "post-human" relationships. Populated by twins stepping into worlds of absence, bears who lick their cubs into creation, and artificial beings haunted by their less-than-human nature, each page sketches a world where our all-too-real feelings of isolation and ecological dread take on an otherworldly tinge. In Good Night, Sleep Tight, Brian Evenson deftly weaves ethical dilemmas, maternal warmth, and echoes of apocalypse into his most tender, disquieting book yet.
"Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up another person. Perhaps tomorrow I will wake up not a person at all." From the "master of literary horror" (GQ) comes a collection of new stories tracing the limits and consequences of artificial intelligence and "post-human" relationships. Populated by twins stepping into worlds of absence, bears who lick their cubs into creation, and artificial beings haunted by their less-than-human nature, each page sketches a world where our all-too-real feelings of isolation and ecological dread take on an otherworldly tinge. In Good Night, Sleep Tight, Brian Evenson deftly weaves ethical dilemmas, maternal warmth, and echoes of apocalypse into his most tender, disquieting book yet.
