Monday, June 13, 2016

New Pearls to Swallow at 101 Fiction

The summer issue of 101 Fiction has arrived, and includes two of my own:

Regeneration

Unlucky

The theme this time around was "underwater." Lovely, ethereal, evocative offerings from all the authors; fourteen little jewels of micro-fic for your pleasure. 

Back to other things now. Witches and time-traveling swordsmen, the last wardens in villages in an another world, and robot nurses. Of course.



Thursday, May 19, 2016

Luck and Cynicism


I used to enjoy the occasional crappy day. No, really. I had this sense that my life was "lucky," that I was a lucky person. I had no evidence of this whatsoever. I had passable looks--I mean, no one was stopping on the street to stare at my monstrousness, nor at my blinding beauty--and I was taking a couple of college courses here and there while getting up every morning at 5 a.m. to go to a bleak waitressing job where I got yelled at for five or six hours, then I'd take some leftovers home in a styrofoam box and rent a movie or maybe go for a hike in the woods, and for some reason, sitting in that tiny apartment with its tiny oven so small that it couldn't even fit a whole chicken, I felt lucky.

Nothing really got me down. Maybe I was confused. Maybe I didn't understand that I was being shit on all the time. But hey, all that matters is that I felt lucky. So once in a while, I'd have a truly, epically bad day. We're talking, getting a plate thrown at me by an irate short-order cook, smacking a fly on the window with a piece of mail and smashing that window (fly still in the apartment), and going to the hardware store but not making it because a tire exploded and I ran off the road into a Chinese restaurant parking lot. Now that would be pretty bad, right? By anyone's standards. And there I'd be, in the rain next to my busted car in the days of no cell phones, and the whole thing felt like a thrilling ride.

I was up for a challenge in those days. I had energy to spare. And hey, it was the least the universe could do to me, considering how great my life was, after all.

When relationships ended badly--as all of mine have, up to this point, except the current one, which goes on doggedly pleasantly, as if it's too dumb to realize that I fuck everything up, eventually--I bawled my eyes out onto the side of the stuffed donkey I've had since I was nine, and at some point, I'd pick myself up and get ready for the next adventure in love. I had broken hearts, and I mended them. The thrill of "what's next" was got me--what's around the next corner? Maybe the love of my life. Or maybe the hot dog that will change my entire perception of hot dogs (that, fyi, has not happened; hot dogs are still finely minced assholes boiled for our consumption, and exceedingly disgusting). Hey, whatever was next, I was ready! The future was a shining city! With monorails and Logan's Run attire!

So what happened. That's your question, right? Mine, too. At some point, bitterness replaced joy. Cynicism replaced hope. And then the worst--passivity. Eh. Meh.

I think I forgot how to be alive. Maybe that happens after the train wreck that's our twenties. I once felt like a conqueror, a warrior, an explorer. And now I feel... meh.

It can't be money, or things, because I didn't have them back then. It's got to be something inside.

If I dig it out, scrape off the moldering rot of depression, what will I find? Will I be me again? Or--oh, jesus, is this me? Now and forever?

Well, hell. I suppose I could go for a walk, see what the day brings. I could attempt...something. I could have a drink at quarter to ten in the morning.

This isn't meant to be an inspirational bullshit kind of thing, nor is it a cry for help. It's just rambling. I'm gonna hang in there, have another cup of tea, and maybe later, understanding will creep in. Or not.



xx
R

P.S. Book 1's at 93,000 words. It's a mess. But holy crap, I wrote 93,000 words that almost make sense. Books 2-4 however... Well. Well.

Monday, March 2, 2015

"Minotaur" now at Luna Station Quarterly

My short story,  Minotaur, is the featured story of the week at Luna Station Quarterly.

During an archaeological dig on the Russian taiga, prickly Noani uncovers something stunning, something unbelievable... If only she survives long enough to show the world.

LSQ is a quarterly zine filled with speculative fiction written by women. And while you can read all of the stories in issue 21 for free online, LSQ has their first-ever print issue available. Please support female writers!

xx
RS

Monday, January 12, 2015

Making An Actual Hobo

Shakes72 recently tweeted a photo of a hobo fire he made. I thought it would be more impressive if he'd made an actual hobo. Which thinking led me to this:

How a Hobo is Not Like You and Me

You can see Shakes's original photo here. Also, Shakes is more of a writer guy and not really a tiny fires guy. His stories are *excellent* and you should check them all out. All of them. All.


If you have hobo poetry, please share. It appears to be a sadly under-filled poetic category.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

New Stories: Hawaiian gods, cigarette smoking, and werewolves


Another issue of 101 Fiction is out! This time, I've got one tiny tale in the black-and-white-themed issue, 'Aumakua. Hawaiian gods and troublesome little girls!

The other stories are really wonderful, especially W.M. Lewis's Celebrity. Gobsmacked by this one. Read it!

The Husband is posted at my DA account, since it's original home, The Corner Club Press, appears to be defunct. "The Husband": I took a nap, and when I woke up, the dog on my chest had become a husband. Speculative fiction about Sudoko, drumming, and, er, friendliness. ;)

Exclamation points and emoticons! Have I been body-snatched by a teenage pod alien?

And one more, if you're in the mood for a bit more reading today: the November issue of Bloodbond is out, with short stories and poetry about shape shifters, and it includes my story, "In the Northern Territories." Werewolves, my friends. Werewolves. They can be great neighbors, as long as you abide peacefully.

xx
RS

Monday, November 17, 2014

"Bloodbond" Now Out! Werewolves and vampires and shape shifters...




And shapeshifters, oh my! 

Alban Lake Publishing, home of Aoife's Kiss, a magazine of specfic, and publishers of stand-alone horror and SF novels, has just released "Bloodbond," an anthology of werewolf, vampire and shapeshifter fiction and poetry. Included is my short story, "In the Northern Territories":

Calvin Kilfoil shot the wolf that had been coming around his farm--but come morning, it is not a wolf, but his wife's body laid atop the kitchen table. Faila's father had never been fond of his daughter's husband, but is this murder? He watches Calvin--watches, and waits, along with the rest of the small, isolated town deep in the northern woods. Because blood will *always* tell...

GREAT selection of stories! I just finished reading, and I was really blown away by a couple of them. If you want some good, shiver-inducing fiction, and you want to support a small, independent press, there's no better way to do it than by buying a copy of Bloodbond today!