This story is a prequel to Her Windowed Eyes, Her Chambered Heart; I’m working on a third involving Elspeth and Artemus. Other stories in this world include Rappacini’s Crow and Clockwork Fairies.
Snakes on a Train
Elspeth folded her hands in her lap, trying to keep her brows from knitting. She hated trains.
They were dirty, with bits of smut and coal blown back from the massive brass and aluminum steam engine pulling them along, and engrimed by successions of previous passengers.
They were noisy, from the engine’s howl to the screech of the never-sufficiently-greased axles as they rocketed along the steel rails with their steady pocketa-pocketa-pocketa chug seeping up through the swaying floor.
And they were oppressively full of people, all thinking things, all pressing down on her Sensitive’s mind, making her shrink down into the hard wooden seat as though the haze of thoughts hung like coal-smoke in the air and if she sank low enough, she’d avoid it.
She glanced over at her fellow Pinkerton agent, who returned her look with his own slightly quizzical if impersonal gaze. All of the curiosity of their fellow passengers was directed at him, perhaps the first mechanical being they’d ever seen, with silver and brass skin and curly hair, eyebrows, and moustache of gilded wire.
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I’m going to stick with it, particularly given that I get new ideas for short stories all the time (and generate a lot in the course of teaching), but I’m thinking about making some changes.
Today’s wordcount: 5476
Current Hearts of Tabat wordcount: 112800
Total word count for the week so far (day 2): 11487
Total word count for this retreat: 42856
Worked on Hearts of Tabat, finished “California Ghosts” and “I am Scrooge”
Time spent on SFWA email, discussion boards, other stuff: an hour
Classes that are coming up soon and still have room! All times are Pacific Time.
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The major frustration of the road has been trying to get time to write. I find it takes me a while to get started and in the flow when I write, and for those of you writing in scraps and odd bits of time snatched from kids and jobs and other concerns – I don’t know how you do it, but I salute you. I’ve got a story simmering and partially written, which I really want to send out as the next Patreon installment, so I need to get butt in chair and finish writing it in the next couple of days. Contemporary horror, set in Western Kansas. (I know my cousins will appreciate the last bit.)
Here’s a tiny bit to whet people’s appetites. If you want to read it when it’s done, you’ll need to support the Patreon campaign. 😉
Penny saw the sign coming east along route 70. Yellow letters on a background the color of drying blood. 50 MILES – PRAIRIE DOG TOWN ““ WORLD’S LARGEST PRAIRIE DOG ““ BISON ““ KIT FOXES ““ BADGERS ““ FIVE-LEGGED STEER. Another sign followed it: BRING THE KIDS. GIFT SHOP!
She suppressed the urge to snort and glanced at the rental car’s gauges. She would have rather flown, but driving, she could carry gear with her the airlines wouldn’t have allowed past. Or would have arrested her for, much more likely. She might look like an ordinary, slightly heavy middle-aged woman, but the contents of her suitcase were suited to a world-class assassin.
Which she was, of course.
I’ve also been working on some nonfiction, including mulling over some posts on things like writer etiquette, self-publishing, and the idea of writing for “exposure” (which I am not a big fan of, and will explain why.) Stay tuned for some of those in the next couple of months.
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I just posted the first story from the Patreon campaign over there as well as mailing it out. It’s a story set in Altered America, a steampunk version of 19th century America that I’ve been working in recently. If you read Raapacini’s Crow, which appeared on Beneath Ceaseless Skies this month, it’s the same world.
19th century America is one of my favorite historical periods, and I’m looking forward to bringing in some of my favorite figures as characters, such as Lucy Stone, Matilda Joslyn Gage, and Victoria Woodhull. You’ll find a somewhat altered Abraham Lincoln as well, who has made a terrifying choice in order to win the Civil War, one that will affect the country for decades, possibly centuries, to come.
The story is inspired by the television show, Wild Wild West, which was steampunk back before anyone knew the term. The pair of Pinkerton agents in the story have already appeared in one other story, and I suspect there’s plenty more of their adventures lurking in the wings.
Here’s the first few paragraphs:
Frenzies of gingerbread adorned the house’s facade, but it was splintery, paint peeling in long shaggy spirals that fuzzed the fretwork’s outlines. The left side of the house drooped like the face of a stroke victim, windows staring blindly out, cataracted with the dusty remnants of curtains.
Agent Artemus West thought that it would have given a human man the chills. He glanced back at Elspeth to see how she was taking it, but her face was chiseled and resolute as a fireman’s axe.
“You all right?”
She swabbed at her forehead with a bare forearm, leaving streaks of dark wet dirt. “Thank your lucky stars you’re mechanical and don’t feel the heat,” she rasped.
Hot indeed if enough to irritate her into mentioning that. He chose to ignore it.
The house sagged amid slumping cottonwoods, clusters of low-lying trees, their leaves ovals of green and pale brown. Three stories, and above that, two cupolas thrust upward into the sky, imploring, the left one tilted at an angle. The wind whistled through the fretwork, a shifting, hollow sound, like a jug’s mouth being blown across. There had once been a flower garden towards the back. Weeds had claimed most of it, but the papery red heads of poppies blazed among the tangle. The sky stretched high and blue and hollow overhead.
If you’d like to read the rest, you can! Make a pledge as small as $1 per story, and you’ll get two original, unpublished stories each month from me, along with commentary. The next story, appearing in two weeks, will be contemporary horror.
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I’m finishing up my essay and the story edits for the Women Destroying Fantasy issue of Lightspeed, as well as some other articles, trying to get those finished before hitting the road. Stories coming out soon include pieces in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, 3-Lobed Burning Eye and Shattered Shields (edited by Jennifer Brozek and Bryan Thomas Schmidt).
I’m going to be setting up a Patreon campaign, because I’ve got a big backlog of stories and figure releasing them on my own while on the road will probably work as well as worrying about keeping them submitted. If you might be interested in subscribing to get two short stories each month, please sign up for my mailing list, and drop me a comment here to let me know what sort of things you might like to accompany that. What sort of cost would be appropriate for a subscription that lets you supply a prompt or get a Tuckerization, for example?
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In three days, I become Vice President of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. I look forward and am somewhat daunted by the prospect.
Today I am putting down linoleum as the next part of the great remodel while Wayne does some sanding. We’re still on track to leave July 15, +/-3 days. We’ll be heading eastward, with stops planned in Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Indiana, and Philly-area, arriving towards the end of July. August we’ll spend some time knocking around on the eastern seaboard, and towards the end of that month, we will go somewhere. Just not sure where, but Australia, Europe, and South America are among the strong contenders, continent wise.
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.
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Want access to a lively community of writers and readers, free writing classes, co-working sessions, special speakers, weekly writing games, random pictures and MORE for as little as $2? Check out Cat’s Patreon campaign.
"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
(fantasy, short story) A few weeks after my grandmother’s death, her quilt began crawling from her bed in the early hours and roaming downstairs. You’d hear the rustle as it went past the door, and in the morning find it curled somewhere, like a dog that had died of a broken heart in the night.
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