First, the review. Says Guy Gonzalez:

For such a broad, somewhat random theme — “What secrets belong only to a fish?” — editors Cuinn and Taylor have curated an impressively cohesive anthology, offering a diverse variety of fables, allegories, and good old fashioned short stories that surprise, delight, and, in a few cases, inspire. Among my favorites were Polenth Blake’s “Thwarting the Fiends;” Camille Alexa’s “The Skin of Her Skin;” Paul A. Dixon’s “One Let Go;” Sam Fleming’s “What the Water Gave Her;” Bear Weiter’s “The Talking Fish of Shangri-La;” and, Tracie McBride’s “The Touch of Taniwha.” My absolute favorite, though, was Suzanne Palmer’s “Lanternfish In the Overworld;” its perfect tone and ending should really have made it the final story in the collection, so save it for last. Recommended.

Next, Charles Tan, the Bibliophile Stalker, has interviewed editor Carrie Cuinn for SF Signal. They talked about the evolution of FISH, the challenges of running a small press, and more.

From the interview:

CT: Why do you think we need stories like these? If you weren’t editing Fish (i.e. another publisher was soliciting from you), what’s the appeal for you of contributing to this themed anthology?

CC: We always need stories like these. Life is hard. It’s rarely what we expected it to be, and there’s so much dark and gloom. We can’t get rid of it, so I don’t try to pretend it isn’t there. Instead, I look for what’s beautiful in between the bad things, or alongside sadness or grief. Delightful, surprising, moments are always there, whether we see them or not, but life is easier when we take the time to look. There is always something or someone to love, if you let life creep in. The stories in Fish are just like that: sad, dark, and scary, with surprising moments of beauty, joy, and life.

I know what story I would have written, if I were contributing to a project like this. It would be different from anything we did publish, but similar in feeling to Blake and Fleming’s work. I would have wanted to show that flashing underside, the brightness in a dark sea. It would have been about my son, and the things I lost when I got to know him.

And the things I gained.

Read the rest here.