patreon fiction

If you’re holiday shopping this year, you may have noticed there are problems getting stuff due to a combination of supply chain issues and here in the US, our beleaguered postal system.

Part of my solution is that I’m making a lot of my gifts this year, including my favorite gingerbread caramels, flavored marshmallows, and a family staple, chocolate spritz cookies. I’ve even invested in an old model metal cookie-gun for the last of those after going through several plastic ones. It’s always fun to take it down from the shelf.

Other people are getting presents like plants I’ve started for them, rocks I tumbled, and of course – plenty of books! The nice thing about the latter is that I can do it electronically, and Patreon supporters will get a special story on Christmas as a result!

If you’re shopping for a writer and were wondering what the Rambo Academy for Wayward Writers offers, here’s some options I’ve assembled. I’m happy to offer gift certificates for any of the following:

• A certificate for a live two-hour class. I am still putting together the January-March calendar, but it’s shaping up as an interesting slate. Cost is $79.
• A certificate for a half-hour coaching session via Zoom. Happy to talk about overall career, a specific issue, or even an individual story. Cost is $50.
• A certificate for a year’s access to the virtual campus: Discord server; Zoom events like co-working, writing games and story discussion club; and occasional free classes. Cost is $25.

Recipient will get an electronic certificate, and you can choose whether they get it right away or on the actual day of the holiday you’re celebrating.

To order, or if you have questions, mail me.

The is the fourth Serendib story I’ve done. The others are: “The Subtler Art,” also featuring The Dark and Tericatus, which appeared in Blackguards: Tales of Assassins, Mercenaries and Thieves; “Call and Answer, Plant and Harvest,” which should appear in the science fantasy issue of Beneath Ceaseless Skies tomorrow; and “The Owlkit, the Beekeeper, the Brewer, and the Candymaker,” which appears in forthcoming collection, Neither Here Nor There.

Sign up here to support my Patreon campaign and help me put out a story or two each month for public consumption.

The Mage’s Gift

This is a story of Serendib, the origami city where dimensions intersect and where you step between worlds as easily as turning down a new street to hear the stars singing overhead or the clanging steps of automata on patrol or centaur hoofs clattering over concrete. Everyone that comes to Serendib has a story, and sometimes those stories continue well after they’ve come to stay.

Once she’d hopped the glass-edged wall using gloves made of fish-leather from the deepest deeps, it had been easy enough to defeat the bloodsucking ivy and the centipede hounds contained in the first set of barriers. After that, she paused to change gloves to a new set, this time made of technology stolen from ancient Atlantis, made of ebon clay and silver circuitry.

The Dark rarely stooped to thievery nowadays but it was how she had started her professional life, long ago in a city whose name she had deliberately forgotten.

There she had been a child born to both privilege and indifference. At fifteen, she had left the school where her parents had deposited her and sauntered off to make her own living. This took the form of burglarizing her parents’ friends, at least those whose estates and townhouses she’d had occasion to reconnoiter in earlier years.

This was not as novel a revolt as it might have been, for that city accepts its criminals to the point of licensing them. The true revolt manifested in flouting paperwork until she came of age at sixteen.

Nimble, fearless, and adept in unexpected strategy, she did quite well by this. Well enough that she was able to spread the largesse to many of those less comfortable than her victims, and in doing so, became known as “The Dark Angel.”

When, thirteen months later, the infamous guild of assassins that had noted her exploits came to recruit her, they demanded she rename herself (for licensing purposes, since murder was as strictly regulated as theft), which she did by truncating the former name to the alias she had gone by several decades now.

This post marks a change-up in my Patreon campaign – I will post content publicly. If you’re enjoying it and want to make sure it continues, please consider supporting my ongoing attempts with this publishing model! There are several levels of possible support, but you can do it for as little as a dollar a month.

I’m enjoying on retreat in California right now, which will explain what provoked this piece.