Online Fiction Recommendations & Publications for 3/12/2013

March 12, 2013
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amid the words of war, apex magazine, ben burgis, broad universe, cast of wonders, che guevera, drabblecast, e. lily yu, eliza hirsch, eric marsh, gail z. martin, j.j. roth, jake kerr, kate baker, kimberly long-ewing, liz argall, logic and magic in the time of the boat lift, near+far, rachel swirsky, roxanne bland, were-gator

Here’s some pieces that I’ve particularly enjoyed over the last week, as well as pointers to some recent publications of my own.

Print:

Apex Magazine had some terrific pieces in its March 2013 issue. My favorites are Mermaid’s Hook by Liz Argall and If You Were a Dinosaur, My Love by Rachel Swirsky. I will confess that I’m particularly fond of the latter because Rachel wrote it during a group flash writing session I was part of.
GrÃ¡ Linnaea has kicked off a serial fiction effort that’s a lot of fun. Check out The Curious Investigations of Miranda McGee on his website.
I love pieces of fiction masquerading as something else. It’s such a fabulous device when used well. Jake Kerr’s produced a great story doing exactly that in Biographical Fragments of the Life of Julian Prince for Lightspeed Magazine. (Question: is there no audio version? The “Listen” link doesn’t work for me.)
A lovely, resonant piece about grief from E. Lily Yu is up at Eclipse Online.
The Nymph of Limantour by J.J. Roth, up at Every Day Fiction, is a marine love story — or is it?
My collaboration with Ben Burgis, Logic and Magic in the Time of the Boat Lift appeared in Giganotasaurus. It’s a story of a motorcycle mechanic with a graduate degree in paraconsistent logic and a summons from the Powers that Be investigating a mystery involving were-gators, demons, and dreams of Che Guevera, all set in 1980s Miami and Cuba.

Audio:

Part of the Broad Universe Rapid Fire Reading at Arisia, featuring Roxanne Bland, Kimberly Long-Ewing, and Gail Z. Martin. Broad Universe is a good organization for writers and well worth checking out if you don’t already know about it.
This piece on YA fiction podcast Cast of Wonders has a simple, almost pastoral world with a sinister overlay: magic that demands the sacrifice of young women and strict societal sexual roles. An almost inevitably tragic love story between Charlotte and Lily plays out against it. Eliza Hirsch, A Song for the Season, read by Kate Baker.
Sandra M. Odell writes wrenchingly and wonderfully. Check out David Milner Is… narrated by Joe Sammarco for Tales to Terrify.
The Drabblecast kicked off its Women and Aliens Month with Amid the Words of War, which originally appeared in Lightspeed Magazine and was reprinted in Near+Far. Eric Marsh does a super job with it.
Podcastle has the audio version of Logic and Magic in the Time of the Boat Lift, read adeptly and wonderfully as always by M.K. Hobson. I always smile when I hear her distinctive voice.

P.S. If you’re in the Seattle area, Deb Taber is reading tonight at the University Bookstore and should be well worth attending.

One Response

Jake Kerr says:

March 12, 2013 at 10:54 am

Thanks for the kind words, Cat! To answer your question: The nature of the piece was one that the Lightspeed team wouldn’t lend itself easily to audio. So I’m currently thinking of sending it off to an audio publication.

Reply

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Teaser From Another Unfinished Steampunk Story

January 29, 2014

Photo of a Glasgow train engine, accompanying a steampunk short story snippet from speculative fiction writer Cat Rambo. — If you're interested in my steampunk stories, you might start with "Clockwork Fairies," which originally appeared on Tor.com

I’ve been writing a lot in a steampunk world lately; this is the fourth story set in this world. The passengers are headed to Seattle, but a version much grimier and war-ridden than our own. The Civil War is three years over; another war, over a substance called phlogiston, has arisen.

Jemina noticed the Very Small Person the moment she entered the train.The child paused in the doorway to survey the car before glancing down at her ticket and then at the other half of the hard wooden bench, high-backed, its shellac peeling, that Jemina sat on. Jemina tucked the macrame bag beside her in with her elbow.

The child was one of the last on, which was why Jemina had been hoping against hope to have the bench to herself, at least all the two day trip to Kansas city. The train began to roll forward, a hoot of steam from the engine, a bell clang from the caboose at the back of the train, the rumble underfoot making the little girl pick her way with extra caution, balancing the small black suitcase in one hand against the pillowy cloth bag in the other.

She arrived mid-car beside Jemina and nodded at her as she struggled briefly to hoist her suitcase up before the elderly man across the man did it for her. She plumped the cloth bag in the corner between sidearm and back and sat down with a little noise of delight as she looked around. Catching herself at the noise, she blushed, fixed her gaze sternly forward as she folded her hands in her lap, and peeped at Jemina sidelong.

Jemina tried to imagine how she might appear. She knew herself thin but nicely dressed and pale-skinned. The lace at her throat was Bruges, the cross around her neck gold. She looked like a school-teacher, she imagined, and not a particularly nice one. She felt her lips thin further at the thought.

The child, interpreting the flattening of Jemina’s mouth for disapproval, fished in her bag and took out a small blackbound Bible. She began to read.

“Oh, it’s all right,” Jemina said. Her boldness surprised her, but this was a child, after all. “I’m Jemina Iarainn and I’m a scientist, headed to work at the War Institute in Seattle. Who are you are where are you going?”

The smile bestowed on her could have lit a room. The Bible slid back into the bag. “Oh thank goodness! I’m Laurel Finch and this is my very first train ride ever, up to Seattle too, and I was hoping I’d have an agreeable companion on my voyage.”

She stumbled a little over the solemnity in the last words. Jemina said, “Trips are much, much nicer with someone to talk to. Where are you going in Seattle? To visit relatives?”

“To the Soldiers’ Orphans’ Home there,” Laurel said, and her mouth drooped before she summoned her smile again. “I’ve been staying with my uncle for the last three years but he is traveling to China as an ambassador. It’s all right, he’ll come back for me, but in the meantime I’m to live there for a few years.”

“Seattle is very nice,” Jemina said. Her mind raced along the years before this child, living among orphans with no chance of adoption herself. Bleak, as bleak as any of Jemina’s childhood years. “You will meet Princess Angeline, Chief Seattle’s daughter. She lives down near the market and is a real Indian princess.”
“Do you know Seattle well?”

Jemina shook her head, then nodded. “My twin sister is out there already and she has been writing me long letters.”

“Is she also a scientist?”

“She writes for the newspaper.”

“Oh! Like Nellie Bly!” Laurel clapped her hands and Jemina sighed internally. A daredevil reporter was more exciting than a scientist, but she was the one constructing giant killing war machines, after all, even though she was not at liberty to talk about any of that.

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Why I Don't Want to Read Your Story

February 3, 2014

Photo of French writer Colette, to accompany a blog post by speculative fiction writer Cat Rambo. — Colette's husband allegedly locked her in an attic to keep her focused on her writing. Somedays this seems like an enviable solution.

I get a lot of requests to look at people’s stories. Sometimes people just send them to me. This has prompted this post, but it is not directed at any specific recent requests. (I should note that this is different than my offer to read for awards – I’m happy to read those.) I’m talking about stories of the still unpublished variety.

I’m sorry. I really am. I know it’s a great story. But here’s some reasons why I’m not thrilled by your offer to let me read it.

I do read fast, but I have a lot to read. I’m reading for the Norton Award this year, which has meant an onslaught of books. I’m reading to stay abreast of the field and so I can make intelligent award nomination decisions. And I’m reading for my own pleasure.

You’re not asking me to read it, really, but also to critique it. That takes time, and even just a little crit is a piranha-like bite out of a day already besieged.

You’re asking me to do it for free. I charge to critique stories. Right now I’m not taking any, because I want to focus on my own work. The same goes for Kickstarters asking me for crits as donation incentives this year. I got bit in the butt with a bunch of these all at once, and it’s just not working for me. I’ll revisit this policy in 2015.

You may not want to hear what I have to say. A few years ago someone pressed a manuscript in my hands, and I took the time to go through it pretty thoroughly and explain why it wasn’t ready for primetime and what changes needed to be made. The recipient made it clear that he’d been wanting to hear praise and market suggestions. That was a bit discouraging.

I am not in a position to publish your story. If that’s what you’re hoping, I’m not currently editing a magazine and the couple of editing projects I have coming up are pretty specific in theme. It is extremely unlikely that I will read your story, shout “Huzzah!” and send it off to another editor saying they should buy it.

If you absolutely must have me read your story, you do have the option of taking my workshop. I offer plenty of classes and there’s new sections of both the Writing F&SF Stories and the Advanced Workshop opening soon.

This is hard for me because I have a difficult time saying no to requests. But they add up into vast piles of undone work that dampen all productive effort. So despite all the convulsions and pain this is causing my inner Midwesterner, who desperately wants to be polite… save us both the trouble and send it to your crit group. At least for now. Okay?

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Online Fiction Recommendations & Publications for 3/12/2013

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