Unskilled writers should not attempt to write cyberpunk. By the time I read the sentence "Java, jack-in and jack off--my morning ritual," on page one, I was groaning… and it wasn’t with pleasure.

The best thing that can be said about Master Han’s Daughter is that it is a slim volume. 105 pages is about all one could handle of 1986-era William Gibson name-dropping of ‘zaibatsu’, ‘yakuza’, and ‘kobe beef’.

Sadly, it actually gets worse once the stories are over. At the end of this miniature missive lurks not only “Author’s Notes”, but separate “Acknowledgements” as well. How could this possibly get any worse? Ah, follow those up with “About Me”, which was obviously absolutely necessary in case any stone in the author’s mind was left unturned in the previous sections.

In these appendices, the reader gets to learn exactly which friend inspired which character, and is treated to such charming all-about-how-cool-I-am-isms as “I have weird friends,” and “So how exactly do you feel now that you have an even deeper idea of my twisted sexual mindscape?”

Oh, Circlet Press, I expect better of you. No more book contracts for friends, OK? ( )