Working hard on the words lately. I'm in that place where I don't know whether I have 12,000 words of awesome or 12,000 words of what-the-hell-were-you-thinking (and yes, the B Beast is going to top out at 12,000 words, twice my original word count limit and thank you, Rhonda). I've been running my language through the sifter, again and again, turning words into art, or trying, anyway, because that's what I was hired to do. Come to think of it, this gig is teaching me about art, about story, about making a beautiful thing because beauty. Each time Rhonda has asked me to write for her, I've taken the work as a challenge to myself, a way to practice some new piece of craft. "N is for Nanomachine" (the Tale-o-Woe) was about epistolary writing in different voices, sometimes computer voices, sometimes poetic voices, sometimes human voices and it was a meditation on death. "C is for..." (the B Beast) is about constructing a fantasy world without creating a derivative work and it will be a meditation on brokenness and healing. No, there's not a lot of money in it right now, and yes, it's a small press, but it's a damn fine thing to be asked for a story. You don't waste that shit.
Speaking of death, my beloved cat Winter, who has been chronically ill her whole life, has just been diagnosed with heart and kidney disease. Her demeanor has changed; she sleeps more, gets nauseous from time to time and goes off her food. I'm not ashamed to say that she's been a better friend to me than most people, and she's taught me a lot about compassion. Yeah, I know. Some people don't get it. Fuck the people that don't get it. We outlive our companion animals, and over and over again we're faced with these waning days of their lives; the behavior changes, the medicines, the frequent trips to the vet. I wouldn't trade it, and my life is made better because she and my other beloved companions have been a part of it. You who feel the same way, you are part of my tribe.
I have nothing to say to you about Celtic Colours. I volunteered at Festival Club one night and Sean volunteered twice, but with a story deadline, a sick kitty and three weekend events in the last three weekends, there's been little time for festivaling or clubbing. Next year, we'll pick up the slack.
There have been some kind words about my stories around the Internet lately. The first is a review of A is for Apocalypse that includes the following:
The uses of the apocalypse are wildly varied, which brings some unexpected flavours to the collection. Two well constructed ends of the spectrum come from ‘Q is for Queen’ (Brittany Warman) and ‘N is for Nanomachine’ (C.S. MacCath). The former is one of the shortest pieces in the book, but is one of the most considered. Following a handful of dishevelled worshippers of a mystic queen, the story perfectly sets up the few minutes right before the world is plunged into a blood and hellfire fantasy end. The latter, is a science fiction take on the genre. A planet of synthetic people (it would be reductive to use ‘beings’) face an inevitable extinction at the hands of the human race, who created them in the first place. It is told from the perspective of a scientist, a painter (who together are a couple), a poet, a composer and the head of state. Through letters from each of these characters you are given access to the beautiful aspects of life, which makes the inescapable climax all the more unbearable. - Sabotage Reviews
The second is a Goodreads review of The Ruin of Beltany Ring, and it's a little longer, so you can read it here.
That's it for now. Off to freeze bananas, watch my husband make lemon scones and say sweet things to Winter.