Midwest Futures (Middle West Press) is a short, albeit stout collection of poems, short essays and stories that encapsulate the Midwest across time and various corners of our region. The collection ranges from science fiction to fantasy, horror (specifically the “sporror” sub-genre — that is, spore horror) and much more.
This collection ultimately left me with a profound desire to explore my own Midwest experience. What I found to be particularly exciting was the discussion and prompt guide at the end of the book, inviting the reader to continue reflecting on the path they found themselves on after completing the anthology.
Summarizing and reviewing an anthology can be a daunting task, one I was nervous to endeavor upon when I picked up this title from my home stacks. Midwest Futures has been on my shortlist since I had the pleasure of meeting editor Randy Brown by chance in my shop on a toasty Wednesday. Getting the opportunity to ask Brown about his press, Middle West Press, and the driving force behind his well-rounded published works was a gift. Brown is warm, inviting and deeply passionate about giving so many incredible community voices a platform to share their writing.
Brown and team have crafted a cohesive anthology that taps into a diverse set of voices, multilayered experiences and genre-bending whimsy. I could not believe the range of ages and walks of life encapsulated in this collection. As a veteran, Brown provides a deeply needed platform for veterans to share and explore their journey via the written word. These voices are celebrated throughout this anthology, but also in several other Middle West publications.
With the title Midwest Futures, I anticipated more sci-fi, but what I found was a reflection of our current times. A piece entitled “A.P. Biochem, Class of 2035” ended with a quote that lingers with me now: “Isn’t corporate biochemistry exciting? We remake the world in our best image or at least spread a bit more widely all our worst fever dreams.”
There was a consistent theme of nature: smells, sounds and visuals that could have been plucked out of my own past. I grew up in the Chicagoland area, and was lucky enough to have a portion of the Cook County Forest Preserve as my backyard. Some of these pieces took me back to the peace of trees, the feeling of the damp loam beneath an overturned rock, the purple and golden hues of a sunset, as depicted on the cover of this anthology.
I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the closing remark in Brown’s singular piece in this anthology entitled “Splashdown”: “Only some of us may ‘boldly go’; others gladly, boldly stay.” The placement of this piece in the anthology feels intentional.
I found myself moved by so many pieces in this collection, in so many different ways. My short stack of books got a little taller after adding some of Brown’s other published works to the pile.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s January 2026 issue.
