I'm delighted to announce that "N is for Nanomachine", which appeared in the A is for Apocalypse Alphabet Anthology, has been shortlisted for the Washington Science Fiction Association Small Press Award. Here's the whole list of nominees:
“All of Our Past Places” by Kat Howard, published in Unlikely Story #9: The Journal of Unlikely Cartography, June 2014.
“Careful Magic” by Karen Healey published in Kaleidoscope, Twelfth Planet Press, August 2014.
“Cookie Cutter Superhero” by Tansy Rayner Roberts, published in Kaleidoscope, Twelfth Planet Press, August 2014.
“Jackalope Wives” by Ursula Vernon, published in Apex Magazine, Issue 56, January...more
I'm not the sort of person who divulges deeply personal matters on the Internet, but this post is important. I've recently learned that members of my biological family have been following my social media accounts, and this might be the only way for me to get a message to some of them. Apologies if this is weird for the rest of you.
To my sisters and their children: If you ever find yourself in need of help leaving the Jehovah's Witnesses, whether it be resources for learning about cults and logical fallacies, emotional support or a safe place to stay, please contact me. There's no judgement here, only love. You can reach me at csmaccath.com/contact.
Dispatches from the Word Mines is an irregular blog series about literature and writing from the perspective of writers themselves. This entry comes to us from Rebecca Buchanan, editor of the Pagan literary ezine, Eternal Haunted Summer. She is also the editor-in-chief of Bibliotheca Alexandrina. She has been published in a wide variety of venues, with most of her work featuring Gods, Goddesses, spirits, witches, and the occasional nereid. In this dispatch, she discusses polytheism in the context of science fiction. Many thanks, Rebecca!
To consider the Earth as the only populated world in infinite space is as absurd as to assert that in an entire field of millet, only one grain will grow. -- Metrodorus of Chios, 4th century BCE
I was sitting in a circle discussion on the Sunday morning of a recent Buddhist retreat when the word 'aggression' came up and was decried as a thing that ought to be scoured out of our minds if we want to create an enlightened society. I disagreed and reclaimed the word 'aggression' with a liberal dose of straightforward humor, whereupon it was suggested to me that (1) 'aggression' was the wrong word for what I was describing, and (2) I'd 'get it' eventually if I just kept working on myself. This while one of the men in the circle tittered and exchanged sidelong glances with another man as I spoke. Of course these responses were problematic, especially since much of the conversation was about the aggression, assertiveness and strength of women. But I understood them, coming as they did from basically good people at a Buddhist retreat who were working toward peace. Still, they reminded me of the reasons why I'm not a Buddhist.
Let me stir the pot a bit before I continue....more
Dispatches from the Word Mines is an irregular blog series about literature and writing from the perspective of writers themselves. This entry comes to us from Sherry D. Ramsey, author of The Seventh Crow, The Murder Prophet, One's Aspect to the Sun (a personal favorite!) and many other tales. She is a founding editor at Third Person Press, a member of the Writers' Federation of Nova Scotia Writers' Council and an active member of SF Canada. In this dispatch, she discusses the complexities of working as a writer with...more
I'm pleased to announce that I'm offering from my archives a reprint of "Casting Sin," which initially appeared in Murky Depths Issue #4. Here's a bit more about the story:
Hedea looked down the ribbon of road that led from the center of town to the edge. It was brown and dusty; she longed to sweep it like a kitchen floor. But where would she pile the dirt when she was done? Would she sweep it to the left, up over the bending tulips and into the bread-white foyer of the baker’s shop? Would she sweep it to the right, under the bellies of horses and into the forge? Her hands twitched with the memory of simple tasks; wringing, smoothing, sweeping, and her hair blew like dandelion seeds away from... more
On our last night in the UK, we stayed at a Holiday Inn Express at the Glasgow airport. Sean found a vegan restaurant downtown called The 78 with a set menu and a reggae band playing later that evening, so we took a cab in. On the way, I struck up a conversation with the cabbie about Gàidhlig, and he was able to give me "Ciamar a tha thu," but that was all he had.
Dinner was great, and the atmosphere was cool. It was interesting to me that our first experience of Glasgow was this hip, modern place with a mostly young and liberal clientele. While we were waiting on the cab home, I struck up a conversation with three young vegans sitting at a table outside. The young woman among them worked in government and pronounced Gàidhlig dead. Then she amended the statement to say that there were people trying to revive the language, but they weren't doing enough, so it was mostly dead. The two young men had no Gàidhlig at all and didn't care.
On the way home, I struck...more
Rhonda Parrish begins a "Fractured Friday" blog series with my B is for Broken contributor interview. Check it out!