First off, WisCon schedule. I’ll be ducking in and out of the convention to juggle work things (9am Saturday Inspection FT
WL!), but here are the things you can rest assured I will be at, if perhaps a couple minutes late.
Journeyman Writer’s Lunch – Saturday 11:30-12:45 629
It shall be my sacred duty to kick out anybody not a Journeyman writer. I will have gotten up early, possibly for the third day in a row. Thus my metaphorical boots with which I shall kick will be pointing and made of steel.
Reading, None of Us Are Goats – Saturday 2:30 – 3:45 Conference 2
Keffy Kehrli, Gra Linnea, Liz Argall and Kelly Lagor with music and stories. I will, of course, be bringing tasty things. I’ll also be giving the audience a chance to
hang themselves choose what I read.
Strange Horizons Tea Party – Sunday 3:00 – 4:30 629
Come hang out with Julia Rios, Brit Mandelo, me and others. We can do the “Strange Horizons is awesome, and so are we for liking it,” squee thing. I’ll drink tea that isn’t full of tapioca pearls. It’ll be strange and exciting. Also, there will be cake. You like cake, right? And also, Strange Horizons.
I’ll be generally around for huge swaths of the rest of the con. I just don’t know which swaths, yet, or whether I’ll be awake or compulsively clutching my phone because I’m renegotiating an inspection contingency or a new offer or a peace treaty with gnomes.
Other news. I’ve sold things. The rest of this post is shameless bragging. Move along if you’d rather be spared.
Salamander Patterns sold to Lightspeed. It’s a story about a girl with an alien living in her neck. Actually, it’s a story about how families don’t work. Or about the moral implications of not wanting to be an astronaut. I just wrote the thing. Ask JJA what it’s about.
Doomsday Will Come With Flame sold to Daily Science Fiction. I’m not going to summarize this story, I’ll just give you the first bit as a teaser.
There is a button looming over us, round and red and waiting. If I close my eyes I can see it, a bullet-proof plastic case covering it in its shining metallic console. And the console rests in the bowels of a fortress impregnable for its distance as much as for the ring of blue flame surrounding it. Blue flame. Of course she found a way to surround her fortress with a ring of flame, never mind the vacuum, the impossibility of sustained combustion on the naked surface of the moon… It’s…why the button hangs over our heads, waiting.
She’s going to press it.
Last but not least, I snagged 3rd place in the first quarter of Writers of the Future with These Walls of Despair. It’s about how despair literally holds the universe together. I was feeling cheerful when I wrote it.
And thus endeth the bragging.