David Robb discusses James Hogg’s short stories “Mary Burnet”, “The Brownie of the Black Haggs”, & “Strange Letter of a Lunatic” at our 2017 Schools Conference
During the Peninsular War a wounded soldier recuperates in a remote location. He falls in love with the daughter of the house, but her family hides a terrible secret…
In this issue: stories by Seán Padraic Birnie, E.G. Condé, Rachael Cupp, Roby Davies, Matt Hollingsworth, Prashanth Srivatsa, and R. Wren; columns by Alexander Glass, Nick Lowe, Val Nolan, and Aliya Whiteley; and book reviews by Gautam Bhatia, Zachary Gillan, Kelly Jennings, Paul Kincaid, Giselle Leeb, and Val Nolan. The cover art, SIBILANCE, is by Carly A-F.
Short story collections. Strong theme, or just the best stories? Can a collection include nightmares and light-hearted stuff? (An experienced author says a good collection does not vary wildly in tone. But my stuff does).
what do you think as a reader, and what do you do yourself?
বুলিং স্বভাবটা খারাপ, কিন্তু আমাদের দেশে এটা ডালভাতের মত ঘটনা। তাই সুমন ঐদিন যখন আমাকে উদ্দেশ্য করে "ঐ হাতি তুই কি খাস!" বলল, তখন সবাই সমস্বরে হেসে উঠলো। তবে যে যাই বলুক, সুমনের কলিজা ভুনার স্বাদেটা দারুণ হয়েছে। চেটেপুটেই খাচ্ছি!
Wow! Almost 300 people have entered the Goodreads giveaway for the Kindle edition of "The Spiral and The Threads." Clearly, folks are already excited but for those who missed it, here's the link:
Only two more days until we open for submissions! If any of you out there have some great short fiction from or about alien perspectives: send it in on the 7th 😄
I hung up the phone and looked at my wife, “CalLINES says that the flaming cracks are part of seasonal shifts, they’ve dispatched a drowsing crew and witch to see if they get it to stop screaming until they can put a more permanent fix in place”
4 hours later three witches are standing around in the street in full black robes with high vis stripes, and hard hats with tall black points and cats eye reflectors. Their brooms have little amber strobes attached at the bristles.
They chalk a bunch of runes down on the street, place a cone with a strobe over the worst of it, spend another hour or so standing around, then fly off.
I drummed my fingers on the table beside her open grimoires. Not facing the bully, I turned my eyes toward the blonde, taking in her arrogant smile. She'd gotten me to do what she wanted. She held her wand steady, and the tip glowed like hot iron. "And that's all I need to do? I can't believe you're helping me like this after all we've been through..."
The bucket-full of water and me being hit by said bucket falling off the shelf above the door. The vanishing ink pen I used on a test. The worms in my box lunch. Other things. But I was also a T.A. Some responsibilities where inescapable.
I did volunteer to help Jill.
I wanted to laugh at the "we" in that last sentence, but sighed instead. She was predictable. Very predictable. "The mnemonic, the equations, the visualization. Spot on. It balances and your wand indicates that."
"So all I have to do is say what I want to conjure?"
Predictable. I didn't grin. Instead I switched to French, hopeful. "/Tu m'emmerdes avec tes questions!/"†
She blinked. "Merde? Isn't that French for—"
With magic you really need to be specific about where to target a spell affect and what you're asking for. She'd been specific about neither.
Where your wand is pointing is the default. Her's pointed above her head.
The spell understood what she wanted enough that the closest source proved to be the horse stables. I could see it out the dorm room window. The spell mucked every stall.
A load of small round spheres crashed down around her, bouncing off her head and bounding around the room. I squealed reflexively and jumped away.
I doubled over leaning against the door, laughing despite the smell. For her part, the bully sat stunned. Her expression wanted to be a smile. She had succeeded, after all. She also knew she'd been made the fool.
Exiting out the door was the better part of valor. I grabbed the nob.
"/Amélie/," came a growl.
=-=-=-=-=
† "You're so annoying with your questions!" Literally: "You're shitting on me with your questions."
I have a new story in the November issue of @clarkesworld today. It started as a story about a robot uprising, and ended up as something way more contemplative. In which an artificial being loses a (vital?) part of themself: