Category: Writing
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Lava gloves — Tap and Die 007
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Science Fiction Fantasy Alliance AMA
The delightful mods of the Science Fiction Fantasy Alliance (SFFA) hosted their first AMA and invited me to come and talk. Here’s the recording of what went down:
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Redcrown — Tap and Die 006
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Writer Unboxed OnConference — review
Latest and least of these, I attended this year’s Writer UnBoxed OnConference. It seems to be a theme for me, showing up latest and least to WU. Due to a writing contest promoted by the great Porter Anderson, I won a scholarship to the first one. (That was back when I was still riding high…
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Jack — Tap and Die 005
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Dövë — Tap and Die 004
The main attendant scrolled through. And scrolled through. “No Dawes other than a young girl.” Jack’s daughter. And his wife?
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Experimental Fiction Experiment
Dave King takes carpeted stairs into the basement of the Hawthorne Hotel in Salem, Massachusetts thinking of experimental fiction. A remnant of variegated clay chips hint that Donald Maass, John Vorhaus, Jo Eberhardt, Sean Walsh, and Mike Swift had been playing poker. An oversized Jack of clubs (big enough to be a placemat) and a…
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For Luck — Tap and Die 003
Frey didn’t think Jack would show. Jack hadn’t shown for nine months now: she could have been pregnant and had a baby in this time. He was always helping everyone else but her and Dövë. Or it felt that way. She saw the painting of the three of them surrounded by grandparents and cousins, and…
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The Guest in 22b
The motel on the corner of Cedar and Broadway had been a decent stopping point between Memphis and Tulsa on Route 66. Once there had been a fresh coat of paint and nights when the blinking “No Vacancy” sign lit up the neighborhood. But now the salmon pink exterior was nothing but an eyesore and…
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Hollow Needle — Tap and Die 002
The Hollow Needle did not rise above the horizon, but sank into the great peak of Weststool, steam and smoke heralding it in a great circular halo. One of five new taps in Gergia, the opposite of towers, it drilled down into a too-wide hole. Seven carriage bridges—long stone pathways lit by gas lamps—led from…
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Honorifics — Tap and Die 001
The driver looked cockeyed at Black Jack Dawes’s half-frozen hands that held the other reins. The driver took kings and nobles all over the Ivrian side of the world, not crusty old tradesmen in khaki dusters, range hats, knee-high boots slathered in mud, and that black cloak with those unfixed stars on it. And no…
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Where do your ideas come from?
When someone asks me “where do your ideas come from?” I often experience this high-functioning autistic shut down I experience with many questions. I am rather obsessed with speaking to the question someone’s asking. Dinosaur that I am becoming, my mind works almost in complete opposition to the way that most moderns think. “Where do…