Treasure, alien life, and ghosts

I know of two supposed sunken treasures of gold in Wisconsin, one in Lake Michigan and one in Lake Mendota, both dating back to the Civil War. I’ve researched the one in Lake Michigan and even have the treasure map which locates the gold near Poverty Island Shoal at the tip of Door Peninsula, but I haven’t decided to go hunt for it. I don’t think these treasures exist.

What interests me is why these stories stay alive. Lies are common as leaves in a forest, so why keep certain ones?

First, there’s a simple wish for sudden wealth, the motive force behind lotteries.

Second, legends often say that treasures, buried or sunken, are guarded by leprechauns, mermaids, or at least a curse — by beings alien and magic to our existence. It’s a wish for a livelier universe. In the same way, some of us hope for life on Mars or Andromeda, which would also be a real treasure.

Third, it’s a wish to preserve and honor the past by keeping stories alive. Ghosts work the same way. I met a woman whose neighbors told her the troubled presence she noticed on the stairway of the house she’d just bought was of a teenager who had committed suicide some 50 years earlier because he was gay. She hung a gay pride poster in the stairway to soothe him, and it seemed to work.

Most importantly, treasure is real. Sometimes — at Troy and in the Caribbean — gold is found, and then our wishes are confirmed. I can see Mars at night, and I might be watching Martians. If there are ghosts, I have visited haunted houses. When I lived in Milwaukee, someone else in that city named Susan Burke (not me) won the Supercash lottery. Riches await, if we keep searching.

X marks the spot.

Works eligible for awards

Here are some things published in 2025 that you may wish to consider nominating for an award — just a reminder. Some are my own works, some are my translations.

Science fiction and fantasy short stories by me

“To Defeat Water” Short story, 1175 words. If you curse Poseidon, he might curse you, too, time and time again. And life after life, you can fight back. Read it here: The Lorelei Signal, July 2025.

“Journey to Apollodorus” Novelette, 8760 words. In my novel Dual Memory, an AI named Par Augustus discovers a story about robots in the Apollodorus Crater on Mercury. This is the story. It focuses on the humans who struggle to create and maintain a scientific team when a lander sent to Mercury behaves unexpectedly. Success can be as stressful as failure. Oxygen Leaks Magazine, March 2025 (no longer in publication, contact me for a copy).

Novella translation

ChloroPhilia by Cristina Jurado. Translation of a novella, 20,200 words. Would you sacrifice your humanity to save the world? Nominated for Spain’s Ignotus Award, this strange coming-of-age story addresses life after an environmental disaster, collective madness, and sacrifices made for the greater good. Buy it here: Apex Books, January 2025.

Science fiction short story translations

“Trees at Night” by Ramiro Sanchiz. Translation of a short story, 6050 words. A librarian at a hospital-like sanatorium befriends a young patient named Federico for reasons that eventually become clear. Read it here: Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine, November 2025.

“Proxima One” by Caryanna Reuven. Translation of a short story, 4020 words. A machine intelligence called Proxima One sends probes into the galaxy on long journeys filled with waiting and yearning in a search for intelligent life. The probes cope with unexpected wonders, loss, and profound changes — but there is always possibility and hope. Read it here: Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine, May 2025.

“Bodyhoppers” by Rocío Vega. Translation of a short story, 5290 words. Minds can hop from body to body, but there’s always a problem because the system is designed to create them. One day, you can’t return to your own body because it’s occupied by someone with more money. Now you have no home, and you’re still madly in love. Clarkesworld Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine, February 2025.

Poetry translation

Liquid Sand / Arena Líquida by Jorge Valdés Díaz-Vélez. Book of poetry translated by Christian Law Palacín and myself. This is the first major bilingual collection of poems by Jorge Valdés Díaz-Vélez, one of Mexico’s most respected contemporary poets. It gathers 42 of his works selected from six previous collections that span more than two decades of writing. Shearsman Books, November 2025.

‘Arena Líquida / Liquid Sand’ by Jorge Valdés Díaz-Vélez, translated by Sue Burke and Christian Law-Palacín

I translated the poems in Liquid Sand / Arena Líquida with my Spanish friend Christian. One of us would draft the translation of a poem, then we would pass it back and forth, debating words, lines, and meaning — the goal of a translation is always to maintain the meaning. We didn’t quibble much. Translation is easiest when the original work is well-written.

In the opening poem, “Nadie / No One,” Ulysses returns to Ithaca to become a specter among his own memories. While there’s no way to summarize a collection of 42 poems, the theme of time occurs often. Time moves, and we move, but in different directions for different reasons, as the poem “Negro Sol / Black Sun” says:

The afternoon weighs heavily
toward its settlement. Ours
is due to a harder sun
and we have had to learn
to walk beneath its burden.

Liquid Sand / Arena Líquida is the first major bilingual collection of poems by Jorge Valdés Díaz-Vélez, one of Mexico’s most respected contemporary poets. Published this month by Shearsman Books and available from most bookstores, it gathers works by Valdés Díaz-Vélez selected from six previous collections that span more than two decades of writing.

Madrid Review Magazine says:

“In these pages, Valdés Díaz-Vélez explores time, memory, and the fragile equilibrium between movement and stillness. His poems evoke the physical and emotional geographies of the Americas while questioning belonging, transformation, and endurance. The English versions retain the clarity and meditative strength of the originals, inviting readers to cross the line between two languages and two sensibilities. To read Liquid Sand / Arena Líquida is to encounter poetry that is precise, reflective, and alert to the unseen rhythms of contemporary life. It is a landmark publication for readers of bilingual and Latin American literature.”

My vote for the Nebula Award for Novelette

As a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Association, I get to vote for the Nebula Awards. Here is my vote in the category of novelette (7,500 to 17,500 words). The award will be presented at the Nebula Conference on June 7 in Kansas City.

Overall, the stories amounted to a satisfying little anthology. I based my vote on the strength of the storytelling, not an easy metric to apply since they’re all good, but I thought one in particular was slightly better. Of course, your opinion may differ.

Negative Scholarship on the Fifth State of Being” by A.W. Prihandita (Clarkesworld 11/24) — A doctor finds herself limited by bureaucracy when an unusual alien comes seeking her care. Your heartstrings will be tugged.

Loneliness Universe” by Eugenia Triantafyllou (Uncanny 5-6/24) — Friends try to meet, but they can’t find each other even though they’re in the same place. Then things get more eerie (no spoilers). Not quite horror but very unsettling.

Katya Vasilievna and the Second Drowning of Baba Rechka” by Christine Hanolsy (Beneath Ceaseless Skies 4/18/24) — Romantasy, sweet and fulfilling. All fairy tales (or rather, tales about vengeful river spirits) should be like this.

The Brotherhood of Montague St. Video” by Thomas Ha (Clarkesworld 5/24) — The accidental discovery of a book printed on paper triggers an existential crisis in an electronic world with constant volatility. The understated storytelling style effectively delivers growing horror.

What Any Dead Thing Wants” by Aimee Ogden (Psychopomp 2/24) — Terraforming by magic leaves behind ghosts that want something. The cool, deadpan narration makes the fantastic feel real, but the magic system seems inconsistent to me.

Joanna’s Bodies” by Eugenia Triantafyllou (Psychopomp 7/1/24) — A teenage girl finds a supernatural means to bring a dead friend back. Although this is an obviously bad idea, it’s made worse by resentment, manipulation, immaturity, and guilt. Told with a gripping voice.

My vote: “Another Girl Under the Iron Bell” by Angela Liu (Uncanny 9-10/24) — A demon will do anything to get freedom from an evil master. Which one, the demon or the master, is the most evil? Which one is in love? Every word is measured and every detail impeccable.

My vote for the Nebula Award for Short Story

Each year, the members of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association choose the winners of the Nebula Awards in seven categories, including short story (fewer than 7500 words). As a member, I can vote for the one I consider most deserving. Voting is closed, and the awards will be presented on June 7.

All these short stories are high quality and worthy of nomination, so your choice may very reasonably differ from mine:

The Witch Trap” by Jennifer Hudak (Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet 9/24) — An old charm against witches inspires a reconsideration of the way that the fear of witches creates witches. Reconsideration, the story makes clear, might not be a bad thing.

Five Views of the Planet Tartarus” by Rachael K. Jones (Lightspeed 1/24) — Flash fiction about horrors faced by those found guilty of treason, with an ennobling, subversive twist.

Evan: A Remainder” by Jordan Kurella (Reactor 1/31/24) — A man who recently transitioned slowly comes to terms with his new identity. This involves coughing up a new skeleton (this is not a spoiler). Although it is tender, beautiful, and heartfelt, I think it’s literary fiction because the “magic” is wholly symbolic, not science fiction or fantasy — you may reasonably disagree, of course. While the lines between genres are always permeable and debatable, I think the Nebulas ought to stick to actual SFF. Literary writing has its own awards.

The V*mpire” by PH Lee (Reactor 10/23/24) — A vulnerable adolescent on Tumbler gets bullied into letting monsters into his home. This story may be more metaphor than actual fantasy, but it’s brilliantly written, and the toxic manipulation involved is heartbreaking to witness.

We Will Teach You How to Read | We Will Teach You How to Read” by Caroline M. Yoachim (Lightspeed 5/24) — A message is sent apparently to humans from a very different, brief-lived species: a simple message that holds entire lives. The story is told in a successfully experimental format, and it left me with a lot to think about.

My vote: “Why Don’t We Just Kill the Kid in the Omelas Hole” by Isabel J. Kim (Clarkesworld 2/24) — I nominated this for the strength of the storytelling voice, and after reading all the finalists I still like it best: “… tell me there is a better solution than putting one single kid in the hole, and letting that one single kid have a miserable life, in return for the good lives of all of our children?” Moral certainty is so messy, but at least the kid in the hole can be ethically sourced.