Welcome to Issue #18 of my quarterly newsletter, posted to csmaccath.com and e-mailed to subscribers on Imbolc 2016. |
Awards: I'm delighted to announce that my novelette "C is for Change," which appeared in the B is for Broken anthology, has garnered a nomination for the Pushcart Prize. This is my second Pushcart nomination in two years as a result of my work for the Alphabet Anthologies, and I continue to love writing for the series, so stay tuned for more alphabetical stories. You can buy B is for Broken by clicking here and selecting your preferred format from the links provided. Forthcoming: Speaking of the Alphabet Anthologies, editor Rhonda Parrish has revealed the cover for the third installment of the series, C is for Chimera, which contains my short story "T is for Three (at the End of All Things)." Here's the cover and a quick teaser for you. Enjoy!
This anthology drops on April 19th. Interviews: The kind folks at the Writers' Federation of Nova Scotia recently asked the lovely Clare O'Connor to interview me for the Winter 2016 edition of Eastword. You can read the full interview here. Vegan Resource of the Quarter: The Vegan Pagan is still on the back burner, so I'm going to stop telling you about it until I have something of substance to say. However, you can still sign up for the mailing list at theveganpagan.com. In the meantime, I invite you to check out New York Times bestselling author Michael Greger M.D.'s web site at NutritionFacts.org. Dr. Greger's video archive on plant-based nutrition is second to none and is a go-to resource for me whenever I have questions about my own nutritional needs. That's all for now. Thanks for reading! I'll be back at Beltane. Cheers, |
In Print "C is for Change" in Three broken people; a monk bearing a terrible scar, a warrior facing a terrible sorrow, a woman hiding a terrible past face a relentless army so hard to defeat it might as well be invincible. Find out whether or not they survive in "C is for Change." In Print In a city that is, spacetime fissures gape like ravenous grendels in the landscape. In a city that might have been, a traumatized girl can close the mouths of these monsters before they ever open, if only she will sing. Between them, a trio of musicians play as if all life, everywhere, depends upon the song. And it does. | ||