fathomless abyss

Really pleased with the current project, a continuation and expansion of A Seed on the Wind:

He took a landing towards Neryon neighborhood, a narrow outjut of stone augmented with board and rope buildings dragging at the stone, which was carved with a sinewy overlay of snakes and bees. In midday, it seemed to be drowsing. In a few hours it would begin to stretch and yawn itself awake. The caffeine vendors, selling chai and kaf and a dozen teas would range about filling cups and mugs or doling out thick cups that could later be chewed to mushy fiber for a quick thirdmeal as the evening began in earnest.

He made his way to a sleepy tavern, and slouched in a rear table, nursing leedink, mind thumbing through the possibilities as he fingered the wicker and wood puzzle centered on the table.

He could always go back to Poit. Or Ellsfall. Either of those choices itched him wrong, though.

A being sliding onto the bench across him in the wall niche. The stone shelf under its elbow as it leaned forward. “Pleasance, chum.”

Expensive clothes. Rasp-skinned, narrow-headed, not-human. Flat dark eyes, cold as shadowed caverns. Smile tied on with insincerity.

“Fuck off,” Bill said.

The smile widened, deepened, showed pointed teeth, filed sharper. Gold inlay in the closest one, a design of fish and flowers, a spray of rubies in a line down the front. “An asking for you, Mr. Bill.”

Panicked question stabbed through his stomach. Why did this stranger know his name? He sat back. “What’s that?”

“You know a guy, cook at Fleur, name’s John.”

Chef John. One of the possibilities that had been flickering through his minds. He shrugged. “Don’t ring no chime.”

“All I want is you to takespeak a word or two.”

Bill waited. In the room, the clackclask of pool balls, two youths playing, dressed in leather and thorns. The electric light flickflickered on arcs of white and jasper plastic, stacattoing light.

“Tell him the big companies don’t mind freelancers trading bittybit on the side. But he’s getting bittybig. Needs to step back.”

He hunched his shoulders in a shrug. “Happen to run into him, may say. What’s the what if I do?”

The stranger’s fingerscales were pointed, each tipped with a flower of gold, a stinger of steel, as it spread them as though to smooth the shrug away from the air.

“Bittybit money for you, friend. Just come here an asking.”

(If you want to make sure you get to read the finished version, sign up for my Patreon campaign and get two stories a month for as little as $1 each!)

I’m finishing up A Cavern Ripe with Dreams, the sequel to A Seed On the Wind. A version will undoubtedly go out to Patreon patrons before I start shopping the combined novellas around as a single entity.

This story owes a great deal to both William S. Burroughs’ Junky (indeed, the protagonist is named Bill in his honor) and Joe R. Lansdale’s Drive-In, a book I found immensely freeing and exhilarating in its sheer WTFery and bravura. If you’ve read A Querulous Flute of Bone, it’s the same world, that of the co-writing project The Fathomless Abyss.

From part of today’s writing:

Bill felt a rush of fear, but a kind that he had never experienced before, something like the fear you feel when someone tells you a frightening story that they believe is true. A terror that was convincing yet somehow dilute. A terror that was not his, somehow.

A fear that was enjoyable.

He realized that it was the creature. That he was feeling its emotions. That if he closed his eyes, he could still see the room like a ghostly overlay across the darkness behind his lids.

He wondered if it experienced the same phenomenon, this double life. He put his hand up and touched it with a fingertip, stroking along the coarse fur that was still damp with eggy fluid. It smelled like newly-split wood, rare and sharp. As he touched it, it shuddered but stayed still, like a woman whose innermost core had been touched, who feared and craved more. At the thought, he grew hard, and he felt it shudder again before it curled tighter around his neck.

He lay there with it around his neck, savoring the mental taste of it, dipping in and out of its perceptions. After a while, his bladder drove him into standing and using the chamber pot beneath his bed. As he pissed, he could feel the creature tasting his sensations in turn.

It made him curious. Settling back onto the bed, he took a syrette from the bedside table, already loaded with honeypain. He injected it in his wrist and lay back to feel the twofold sensation.

First it felt as though the back of his eyes had dissolved, only to be filled with a subtle warmth that flowed out from them, flowing through him until he was only a zone of temperature and sensation, as though he was warm water in a bath, only an outline. But always with that lurking presence perceiving him, keeping him whole. He had loved honeypain for its ability to take him outside himself, but now he realized that it was nothing compared to the creature.

He tried to think at it, to see if it would answer him, but all his thoughts were blurred by the honeypain. He could hear only his blood drumming in his veins, a hard and insistent beat that told him he was alive, as it had before, for sometimes when he was dipped deep in these reveries, he thought himself dead. Now he had that beat but more ““ the creature curled on his chest. Part of him but not part.

After a while he slept.

Enjoy this sample of Cat’s writing and want more of it on a weekly basis, along with insights into process, recipes, photos of Taco Cat, chances to ask Cat (or Taco) questions, discounts on and news of new classes, and more? Support her on Patreon..

The Nebulas are upon us, and if you’re a SFWA member, you’ve got until this Friday, February 15th to vote. Here’s the page for voting.

I’ve got a couple of stories I hope people will consider. One is a short story, “Five Ways to Fall in Love on Planet Porcelain,” which is available in both audio and print form on this page, and the second is a novella, A Seed On the Wind, which you can find uploaded to the SFWA fiction site.

No matter what, if you can, please vote! It’s a requisite if you want to be able to complain about the results later on. 😉

Well, the first of the mini-books is out, HALLOWEEN QUARTET. (Non-Kindlers, don’t despair. I’m working on the Smashwords version today.)

The description: A quartet of short horror stories by fabulist Cat Rambo. Follow the mystery of “Whose Face This Is, I Do Not Know,” weep with “Niobe in the Rain,” enjoy a spoof on reality TV with “So Glad We Had This Time Together,” and fear the ancient forces exposed in “Pumpkin Knight.”

If you check out the Amazon listing, feel free to click that Like button or agree with some tags…

Some thoughts and observations:

• Because some of the content is available online, Amazon flagged it and made me write in to clarify that I had the right to publish it. It also meant I couldn’t enroll the book in the Select program. This is something I may want to take into consideration in future books, since that program has some advantages. If I want to be able to use the KDP Program, though, I’ll need to either only use stuff that isn’t available on the web or ask some sites to take stuff down (which I doubt I would do, that goes against the grain, somehow.)
• The biggest pain in the butt? The cover. I’m going to look for someone who wants to swap cover design for story crits, because as you can tell, I’m not so hot at it. But it’s adequate.
• I did the document in Word. Things like installing jumps from the ToC was pretty easy. In the future, I may indent less, since it ended up looking a little weird.

And, serendipitously, another e-book is out today. A SEED ON THE WIND is the first part of a two-part series set in the world of the Fathomless Abyss.

Day Four of the giveaway and row four of the art! This week has seen some nice press for the book, including a nice Tor.com review by Stephen Raets. If you’re looking for other places to possibly score a piece of the jewelry, try David Steffen’s blog, Far Beyond Reality, or the Goodreads giveaway for Near + Far. As always, comment here to be entered in this particular giveaway!

Image #1 appears on both the title page of Far and the story “Five Ways to Fall in Love On Planet Porcelain.” Christmas tree, one-eyed triffid, and rocket ship all in one.

Image #2 accompanies the flash piece, “Space Elevator Music”. I picked it for its upward line, which made me think of a rising elevator.

Image #3 is a favorite of mine because it always makes me think of the submarine in Yellow Submarine. I picked it to go with a story that’s light and funny and silly accordingly, “Zeppelin Follies.”

Image #4 is a lovely piece that, if I look long enough, becomes a woman wearing an elaborate headdress. As always, your mileage may vary there. It goes with the story, “A Querulous Flute of Bone,” which appeared in the anthology TALES FROM THE FATHOMLESS ABYSS and features the philosopher-king Nackle.

Image #5 actually doesn’t seem to appear in my copy of the book, but it’s a proof, so things may have changed somewhere along the line. Bonus!

Look! Mats Minnhagen has finished the cover for A SEED ON THE WIND, the Fathomless Abyss novella I’ve got covering out this October. The scene’s one that occurs early in the book and gets referenced again and again throughout, so this cover, which comes so close to what was in my head, delights me with the way it conveys the space of the story.

If you don’t know what the Fathomless Abyss is, it’s a shared world project created by Philip Athans involving myself, Jay Lake, Joe McDermott, Mel Odom, Mike Resnick, and Brad Torgersen. Books out in the series already include Philip Athans’ DEVILS OF THE ENDLESS DEEP and J.M. McDermott’s NIRVANA GATES. I had a lot of fun writing “A Querulous Flute of Bone” for the TALES FROM THE FATHOMLESS ABYSS anthology and just as much fun writing this novella, which is the first half of a pair, to be finished in A CAVERN RIPE WITH DREAMS. Charles A. Tan recently talked with me about it for S.F. Signal.

Should it be “on” or “upon” the wind? I’m torn. Either way, here’s a scrap to tantalize you a little.

He tried the drugs of Waterdeep.

He let himself be stung by wasps, each time burning like fire, melting like ice, evaporating into unconsciousness.

He chewed hallucinogenic onions and leaves so bitter he tasted them for days later.

He tried the flesh of an animate cactus and slept for three days in a dreamworld where he lived and died and rose into the form of a strange creature with ribbed horns on its head and hooves that struck fire from the rocks it ran over. It died to a wolf, and he rose that time as a vast flower, taking up a good third of the Abyss’s width, skirting the sunstrip and forcing travelers to bring him water and shit to pay passage. He lived for eons that way, then was vanquished by fungus and woke with his mouth tasting of licorice.

He listened to the dissonant orchestras whose intent was to derange the senses in tandem with a particular brew made from spit and a leafy green vegetable that had been shipped up from Ellsfall and followed it up with the discordant screeching of rodents.

He ate the eyeball-sized snails that thrifty city folk grow in barrels to sell at market, trying them raw, cooked in butter, and threaded on skewers to be marked with the grill’s deep black stripes.

He let parasites burrow into his skin and waited for the bliss of their hatching.
He huffed gritty crystals scraped from a cavern’s wall and scorpion venom.

He drank the blood of a mausel dog, although he let someone else wield the blade that killed it. He told himself it would have died with or without his intervention.

He smoked snakeskin and toadskin, and the dust of the yellow moths that come out only after a great wind.

He drifted from high to high, abandoning himself and becoming a new thing.

I’m turning in something today that I’ve never tried before: a novella.

Back when I was first approached about the Fathomless Abyss, it involved an initial story and a later novella. Sure, I said, and whacked out a story for the first Fathomless Abyss book, TALES FROM THE FATHOMLESS ABYSS. It was “A Querulous Flute of Bone”, which I based on an O.Henry story, and which I think is one of my best stories to date. If you don’t believe me, spring for the 99 cent download and tell me if I’m wrong.

Then I started on the novella. The first thing I did was look up the length requirements. Wikipedia told me the official SFWA definition was 17500 to 40000 words. So just a long short story, right?

J.M. McDermott’s Nirvana Gates, a novella set in the world of the Fathomless Abyss, is now available for the Kindle and the Nook. If you enjoyed Tales from the Fathomless Abyss, you’ll be happy to find more set in that world.

One of the things I’ve really enjoyed about the project so far is the way different people use the same material. I’m working on finishing up the next novella in the series, A Cavern Ripe With Dreams. I think I’ve mentioned it before; it’s heavily influenced by H.P. Lovecraft’s “Dreams in the Witch House,” William S. Burroughs’ Junky, and Joe Lansdale’s The Drive-in Chronicles. Here’s the teaser from the beginning of it, which went out with Nirvana Gates.

The merry but busy month of May is past, huzzah! Rio Hondo was awesome, and had such amazing participants (there are some pics frm it up on Facebook, if you have an account on there).

I’m reworking what I have of THE EASTER BUNNY MUST DIE! based on feedback from the workshop, and currently on track to have it done by the end of the summer. I’m participating in the Clarion West Write-a-thon this summer and will be working on that, as well as finishing up a passel of stories I promised to do, including a novella set in the Fathomless Abyss shared world.

I’m reading with K.C. Ball at the University Bookstore in Seattle this Monday, June 11, at 7 pm.

I’m also looking forward to Clarion West and the great reading series that will accompany it, as well as the chance to meet a fine new crop of students. Con-wise, I’ll be at ArmadilloCon, GearCon, and then rounding out the summer with WorldCon.

Love the Easter Bunny and want to find out what happens next? Support Cat on Patreon in order to have a say in what she writes next, as well as getting other snippets, insights into process, recipes, photos of Taco Cat, chances to ask Cat (or Taco) questions, discounts on and news of new classes, and more? Support her on Patreon.