Fiction:
by Lindsey Duncan
by Chris Peterson
by Meghann McVey
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
HUB: UPDATE
Issue 123
Fiction
Psikhushka by Paula R. Stiles
Reviews
Doctor Who: Vincent and the Doctor
Doctor Who: The Lodger
Doctor Who: The Pandorica Opens
Doctor Who: The Big Bang
Doctor Who: Vincent and the Doctor
Doctor Who: The Lodger
Doctor Who: The Pandorica Opens
Doctor Who: The Big Bang
Feature
Amy Pond's Legs and Amy Pond's Brain
Amy Pond's Legs and Amy Pond's Brain
Monday, 28 June 2010
STRANGE HORIZONS: UPDATE
by Anya Martin
By convention's end, a consensus definitely had emerged that this WHC 2010 was one of the best World Horror Cons to date thanks to the abundance of authors, artists, and publishing professionals; a strong and varied programming slate geared to both professionals and readers; and a committed, hardworking staff led by Con Chair Amanda Foubister and Assistant Chair/Programming/Publications Stephen Jones, grand maestro of numerous award-winning horror anthologies and a fixture on the fantasy and horror convention scene since the 1980s.
By convention's end, a consensus definitely had emerged that this WHC 2010 was one of the best World Horror Cons to date thanks to the abundance of authors, artists, and publishing professionals; a strong and varied programming slate geared to both professionals and readers; and a committed, hardworking staff led by Con Chair Amanda Foubister and Assistant Chair/Programming/Publications Stephen Jones, grand maestro of numerous award-winning horror anthologies and a fixture on the fantasy and horror convention scene since the 1980s.
COLUMN: Scores, by John Clute
The secret of Robert A. Heinlein and Cory Doctorow is that they think SF is true.
FICTION: Out of Sombra Canyon, by Kyri Freeman
In four days, we haven't recaptured any of the hummingbirds we've banded, or even seen one a second time. Without that, we have no way of tracking their movements, learning their behavior, what territory they need.
In four days, we haven't recaptured any of the hummingbirds we've banded, or even seen one a second time. Without that, we have no way of tracking their movements, learning their behavior, what territory they need.
REVIEW: This Week's Reviews, posted three times a week
Monday: The Inter-Galactic Playground by Farah Mendlesohn, reviewed by William MinginWednesday: New Model Army by Adam Roberts, reviewed by Nadar ElhefnawyFriday: Cheek by Jowl by Ursula K Le Guin and Imagination/Space by Gwyneth Jones, reviewed by Paul Kincaid
Monday: The Inter-Galactic Playground by Farah Mendlesohn, reviewed by William MinginWednesday: New Model Army by Adam Roberts, reviewed by Nadar ElhefnawyFriday: Cheek by Jowl by Ursula K Le Guin and Imagination/Space by Gwyneth Jones, reviewed by Paul Kincaid
THE NAUTILUS ENGINE: UPDATE
The Ghoul / Chris Castle
An outsider with a weak body and a sharp mind finds his way and sweet revenge.
Scalp Hunter / Robert E. Porter
Kidnappers with flying saucer voyeurs in tow stop for a souvenir and take a stand, leaving one dumbfounded and three more bodies.
An outsider with a weak body and a sharp mind finds his way and sweet revenge.
Scalp Hunter / Robert E. Porter
Kidnappers with flying saucer voyeurs in tow stop for a souvenir and take a stand, leaving one dumbfounded and three more bodies.
Yoke is a high-tech, cybernetic killing machine known as a Yojimbo. Business is slow, but he hopes to change that.
A simple snack food appears on Graham's doorstep and sets events in motion far more dangerous than its sodium content would suggest.
A tired office worker. A cage. A familiar face.
The Voice of the Skull / Charles Parramore
A psychiatrist, a mysterious patient, and the human skull that brings them together.
The Temptation of Mrs. Tofusis / James Shackell
When the Satanists rang, old Mrs. Tofusis was in the back garden, tending her herbs.
When the Satanists rang, old Mrs. Tofusis was in the back garden, tending her herbs.
Cowart's End / Craig Gehring
Lieutenant Cowart C. Raven is an alien relations specialist forced to conduct his first alien relation, with disastrous consequences for all involved.
Lieutenant Cowart C. Raven is an alien relations specialist forced to conduct his first alien relation, with disastrous consequences for all involved.
APHELION: UPDATE
By P. F. White
Lucas Black had re-upped to serve in Vietnam three times, until a wound that left him limping had sent him home for good. Now he was home -- but home was turning out to be as strange and terrible as anything in the jungle.
By Gary W. Feather
Gao's job as village guard leader also made him the local tax collector, an unpleasant task at the best of times. But collecting from Old Lady Ko, reputed to be a powerful sorceress, was downright dangerous.
By Rick Huffman
John Morphy was having fun as the "cybernetic man" -- the first one to test-drive the company's new active-transponder implant. It made him feel like the computers around him were an extension of his own mind and body...
By Jonathan Saville
Thomas Eberle was an ordinary guy, with a wife, children, and hyperactive dog. But his relationship with 'grandmother' Chen made him unusually well qualified to recognize signs that a dragon was in town.
By Natalie J E Potts
Matthews was content to work at home in his flannelette "comfort work trousers", and live there, too, rarely moving from the chair in front of his computer. The sociability counselor hired by Matthews's employer to protect their employees from their own reclusive impulses hoped to change all that.
By Brian Lo Rocco
Barry's friend Colin was younger, more successful, and was married to a woman Barry had wanted for himself. Still, when Colin asked for his advice about how to explain that a small, blob-like fish had apparently eaten a young woman, Barry couldn't say no.
By Kevin Gordon
Ruche found his job boring for the most part, controlling thousands of clones as they performed most of the scutwork and the fighting for the good ship LN-33. But then his commander ordered him to use the clones as suicide pilots...
By Daniel Ribot
Bernard Foswick-Pfaltz thought he had the perfect way to get away with murder -- teleport, and cease to be the man who had committed the crime. Dr. Malcolm Brook hoped to prove him wrong, by explaining the principle of 'Grandfather's Axe'.
By M. J. Nicholls
The Chief Editor at Scalped Olives Publications knew that most of the books the company released were crap. This was not surprising as they were all written by members of the not-very-talented editorial staff. But even he was surprised by the nature -- and the source -- of the worst reviews they would ever receive.
By William Dexter Wade
In which an intrepid rabbit faces a terrifying monster with glowing eyes (and eighteen wheels).
By Dave Weaver
The voice in Dave Clayton's head was real, claimed to be from the future, and had a very important task for him to perform.
Thursday, 17 June 2010
ABSENT WILLOW REVIEW: UPDATE
June 2010
The Exploration by Jack Potchen
Medusa Blooms by David Moore
MEMORY LOG by J. Westlake
Do You Know Where You Are? by Steve Laub
Echoes in the Past of the Death Throes of a Dying Country by Jahan Claes
A Trip to the Store by James A. Ford
Bite Me by Karina Berg Johansson
Living in the Worlds Without You by Sean Eads
Reversal by Michael C. Keith
The Daddy Thing by Pamela J. Jessen
The Demon Clock by K. A. Opperman
BENEATH CEASELESS SKIES: UPDATE
Issue #45 -- June 17, 2010
"Memories in Bronze, Feathers, and Blood," by Aliette de Bodard
His pain is too much; we cannot hide any longer. In a flutter of copper wings, we descend from the pine tree, settle near Nezahual: the hummingbirds on his shoulders; the parrots on the stone rim of the fountain; the lone quetzal balancing itself on the handle of the broom.
"Memories in Bronze, Feathers, and Blood," by Aliette de Bodard
His pain is too much; we cannot hide any longer. In a flutter of copper wings, we descend from the pine tree, settle near Nezahual: the hummingbirds on his shoulders; the parrots on the stone rim of the fountain; the lone quetzal balancing itself on the handle of the broom.
"The Jewels of Montforte, Pt. II," by Adam Corbin Fusco
Now a cold anger overcame Absinthe. How could this boy deign to come between him and his treasure, tittering his way across the Archipelago? How could he himself think that frills and creamy silks could deliver into his hands what he desired? Elaborate capers were all well and good at whiles, but most times the only solution to a problem was a swift, sure, well-delivered blade.
Audio Fiction Podcast 040
"Remembering Light," by Marie Brennan, from BCS #44
“You remember. You can tell me how Surnyao was. And then I can go home, and tell my people, and we will take that light with us into the darkness.” It would come regardless. The last suns would burn out, and Surnyao would go into the Crush, as countless worlds had gone before them. But they could go as Asurnya, with the strength of all they had forgotten. They could make their own light.
From the Archives:
"The Leafsmith in Love," by K.J. Kabza, from BCS #39
Jesper whirled. Right at his back, feet clacking on the limestone, was one of his steam-powered wolves. But instead of ambling across the gravel path and back into the forest, it went utterly mad, hoping forward and back, tail pinwheeling. It jumped forward, teeth bared; the air rent with a scream and the ugly sound of ripping fabric; the wolf danced away with a mangled petticoat in its gleaming jaws.
Now a cold anger overcame Absinthe. How could this boy deign to come between him and his treasure, tittering his way across the Archipelago? How could he himself think that frills and creamy silks could deliver into his hands what he desired? Elaborate capers were all well and good at whiles, but most times the only solution to a problem was a swift, sure, well-delivered blade.
Audio Fiction Podcast 040
"Remembering Light," by Marie Brennan, from BCS #44
“You remember. You can tell me how Surnyao was. And then I can go home, and tell my people, and we will take that light with us into the darkness.” It would come regardless. The last suns would burn out, and Surnyao would go into the Crush, as countless worlds had gone before them. But they could go as Asurnya, with the strength of all they had forgotten. They could make their own light.
From the Archives:
"The Leafsmith in Love," by K.J. Kabza, from BCS #39
Jesper whirled. Right at his back, feet clacking on the limestone, was one of his steam-powered wolves. But instead of ambling across the gravel path and back into the forest, it went utterly mad, hoping forward and back, tail pinwheeling. It jumped forward, teeth bared; the air rent with a scream and the ugly sound of ripping fabric; the wolf danced away with a mangled petticoat in its gleaming jaws.
Saturday, 12 June 2010
NITEBLADE: UPDATE
Survivalist by Kevin Brown
Men’s faces tiger-striped in shadow, they’re every face of every soldier of every war ever fought. Shell-shocked and battle-rocked.
Men’s faces tiger-striped in shadow, they’re every face of every soldier of every war ever fought. Shell-shocked and battle-rocked.
Woman Called Witch by Doug McIntire
I turned my head to look. Standing there in the door was an old woman. It was just one of those things, so out of place, that I had a hard time wrapping my mind around what I was seeing.
I turned my head to look. Standing there in the door was an old woman. It was just one of those things, so out of place, that I had a hard time wrapping my mind around what I was seeing.
Icarus Redux by Elissa Malcohn
Feathers flew about him with each puff of his breath. He coughed as the tiny ones entered his lungs. Larger feathers clung to his blood-drenched skin and made it itch.
Feathers flew about him with each puff of his breath. He coughed as the tiny ones entered his lungs. Larger feathers clung to his blood-drenched skin and made it itch.
Shinigami by Benel Germosen
The ball bounces down the hall towards me at a steady rhythm, as if dribbled by an unseen hand. It slows and rolls and comes to rest at my feet. In the hallway there is nothing and no one except for my pounding heart and me.
The ball bounces down the hall towards me at a steady rhythm, as if dribbled by an unseen hand. It slows and rolls and comes to rest at my feet. In the hallway there is nothing and no one except for my pounding heart and me.
Stoke The Fires by Brad Chacos
Occupied faces never notice the stars etched into the balloons bouncing above. Distracted minds never ponder the circular patterns coiled in the cobblestones underfoot.
Occupied faces never notice the stars etched into the balloons bouncing above. Distracted minds never ponder the circular patterns coiled in the cobblestones underfoot.
Basement Shade by Bill Ratner
I stared at the almost invisible blonde eyebrows over his lined, tired face, and his empty gray eyes, and I thought… this is what it’s like to go insane.
I stared at the almost invisible blonde eyebrows over his lined, tired face, and his empty gray eyes, and I thought… this is what it’s like to go insane.
The Little Girl and the Balloon by Ben Loory
Yes, said the mother. Yes, in fact it is. The balloon is dangerous and we must all stay inside.
Yes, said the mother. Yes, in fact it is. The balloon is dangerous and we must all stay inside.
Sympathetic Noose by Iris Macor
You didn’t need to ask, you look at the dead branches and you know. It has a story to tell, and though you weren’t there, it promises you might have been, you can be.
You didn’t need to ask, you look at the dead branches and you know. It has a story to tell, and though you weren’t there, it promises you might have been, you can be.
MIRROR DANCE: UPDATE
Welcome to “Whispers: Tales of Spirits and Hauntings,” the Summer 2010 Issue of Mirror Dance!
In this issue…
IDEOMANCER: UPDATE
Fiction
“The Atrocities of King George” – Lon Prater
“Saint Stephen Street” – Ilan Lerman
“The Copperroof War” – Megan Arkenberg
Poetry
“Kassandra” – Larry Hammer
“Tasting Books on her Lover’s Hands” – Jennifer Crow
“Imagined World” – Stephen M. Wilson
“Courting Song for Selkies” – Amal El-Mohtar and Jessica P. Wick
Reviews
Gemma Files’s Book of Tongues – Leah Bobet
Michelle West’s City of Night – Marsha Sisolak
CLARKESWORLD: UPDATE
Issue 45
by Nina Kiriki Hoffman
by Brenda Cooper
by Jeremy L. C. Jones
by Jason Heller
by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, read by Kate Baker
ALBEDO ONE: UPDATE
Albedo One's issue 38 - a prime issue with stories from Bruce McAlister, Aaron Polson, Priya Sharma, Allison Francisco, Matthew F. Perry and Martin Belderson, an in-depth interview with SF Grandmaster Jim Gunn, and review columns from Juliet E. McKenna and David Conyers.
ABYSS AND APEX: UPDATE
Fiction
Talking To Elephants by Mary Anne Mohanraj
Ezi had watched them once, in the middle of the night -- he'd snuck out of the palace to watch the elephant funeral when he was only ten years old, and the image of the elephants ripping open the earth had been burned into his memory. Just imagine if they did that to one of the Hansithi army's companies -- they could take out a thousand men in one move!
Burning Bright by Jennifer Hykes
It started with the dragon in the backyard...Its scales were yellowish-green, the color of a new leaf, as if it had just sprouted up the night before.
Boneless Corpse by E. Bundy
Brialdur didn’t know, and of course I had no intention of telling him, that some visions haunt me until I resolve them in daily life. The image of the flaccid dwarf felt like one of these. To rid myself of it, I would work for free.
Mind's Eye View by David Schibi
None of this is real, he thought.
The Black Sheep of Vaerlosi by Desmond Warzel
If my successor as Inspector-General of Okazaki Sector had caught Nwachakwu red-handed his first day on the job, that would be an even better story.
Though it would be some time before I pieced the whole thing together, the real story was better still. What made it so was the fact that I could have had him all along.
The Monks of Udom Xhai by Lavie Tidhar
In such a fashion began the period known, at least to the townsfolk of that remote valley of Udom Xhai, there on the ancient trail between Luang Prabang and Luang Namtha, as the Black Monks’ Ascendancy. It would last exactly sixty-four days, and leave behind it an incomprehensible structure two days’ walk from the town, a collective of strange dreams--some beautiful, some terrifying--
Talking To Elephants by Mary Anne Mohanraj
Ezi had watched them once, in the middle of the night -- he'd snuck out of the palace to watch the elephant funeral when he was only ten years old, and the image of the elephants ripping open the earth had been burned into his memory. Just imagine if they did that to one of the Hansithi army's companies -- they could take out a thousand men in one move!
Burning Bright by Jennifer Hykes
It started with the dragon in the backyard...Its scales were yellowish-green, the color of a new leaf, as if it had just sprouted up the night before.
Boneless Corpse by E. Bundy
Brialdur didn’t know, and of course I had no intention of telling him, that some visions haunt me until I resolve them in daily life. The image of the flaccid dwarf felt like one of these. To rid myself of it, I would work for free.
Mind's Eye View by David Schibi
None of this is real, he thought.
The Black Sheep of Vaerlosi by Desmond Warzel
If my successor as Inspector-General of Okazaki Sector had caught Nwachakwu red-handed his first day on the job, that would be an even better story.
Though it would be some time before I pieced the whole thing together, the real story was better still. What made it so was the fact that I could have had him all along.
The Monks of Udom Xhai by Lavie Tidhar
In such a fashion began the period known, at least to the townsfolk of that remote valley of Udom Xhai, there on the ancient trail between Luang Prabang and Luang Namtha, as the Black Monks’ Ascendancy. It would last exactly sixty-four days, and leave behind it an incomprehensible structure two days’ walk from the town, a collective of strange dreams--some beautiful, some terrifying--
Flash Fiction
I Expect There Will Be A Reason Soon by Mark Cole
It was a Cadillac Fleetwood Custom Limousine from the early seventies, in black with gold plated trim. The upholstery looked like real leather. It lay with most of its grill buried in the sand, its stretched body sprawled out as limp as a rag doll. The frame must have snapped in half-a-dozen places.
And, of course, there was no explanation of what it was doing in the middle of the Gobi desert.
I Expect There Will Be A Reason Soon by Mark Cole
It was a Cadillac Fleetwood Custom Limousine from the early seventies, in black with gold plated trim. The upholstery looked like real leather. It lay with most of its grill buried in the sand, its stretched body sprawled out as limp as a rag doll. The frame must have snapped in half-a-dozen places.
And, of course, there was no explanation of what it was doing in the middle of the Gobi desert.
Poetry
Translations From The Collective Unconscious:Ritual Song To Bless The Traveler by Cheryl Wood Ruggiero
The Time Traveler's Lament by Marvin Rabinovitch
An "Unkindness" Of Ravens by Scott Edward Anderson
Translations From The Collective Unconscious:Ritual Song To Bless The Traveler by Cheryl Wood Ruggiero
The Time Traveler's Lament by Marvin Rabinovitch
An "Unkindness" Of Ravens by Scott Edward Anderson
Friday, 4 June 2010
INNSMOUTH FREE PRESS: UPDATE
June 2010
Quoth the Cultist
Mari Ness
Red Goat Black Goat
Red Goat Black Goat
Nadia Bulkin
Eyes in the Vastness of Forever
Eyes in the Vastness of Forever
Gustavo Bondoni
The Great Performance of Kadir Bey
The Great Performance of Kadir Bey
Ekaterina Sedia
The Doom That Came to Yamatai
Travis King
A Model Apartment
A Model Apartment
Bryan Thao Worra
The Bats in the Walls
The Bats in the Walls
Juan Miguel Marín
Estelle Makes the Casino
Estelle Makes the Casino
Run Pamela Rentz
Death on the Fine Line
Death on the Fine Line
Daniel José Older
The Mountain that Eats Men
The Mountain that Eats Men
Caleb Jordan Schulz
Bottomless Lake Bus Stop
Bottomless Lake Bus Stop
Bogi Takács
Kali Yuga
Kali Yuga
Sanford Allen
The Hunger Houses
The Hunger Houses
Raymond G. Falgui
Jeroboam Henley’s Debt
Jeroboam Henley’s Debt
Charles R. Saunders
Thursday, 3 June 2010
EINSTEIN'S POCKET WATCH
Current Issue features:
by Misty Posey
by Robin Fettig
by Chris Castle
by Snowflake
by Leila Fortier
by Stephen Jarrell Williams
by Deborah Reed
by Ash Krafton
by Mike Lynch
BENEATH CEASELESS SKIES: UPDATE
Issue 44
"Remembering Light,"
by Marie Brennan
“You remember. You can tell me how Surnyao was. And then I can go home, and tell my people, and we will take that light with us into the darkness.” It would come regardless. The last suns would burn out, and Surnyao would go into the Crush, as countless worlds had gone before them. But they could go as Asurnya, with the strength of all they had forgotten. They could make their own light.
“You remember. You can tell me how Surnyao was. And then I can go home, and tell my people, and we will take that light with us into the darkness.” It would come regardless. The last suns would burn out, and Surnyao would go into the Crush, as countless worlds had gone before them. But they could go as Asurnya, with the strength of all they had forgotten. They could make their own light.
"The Jewels of Montforte, Pt. I,"
by Adam Corbin Fusco
“Um,” Absinthe said. The perfect opportunity had sailed athwart his bows. All he had to say was “What a beautiful dress you are wearing, my lady,” and the room would burst with his men attacking, overcoming the crowd, and the jewels would be his. Something was holding back the words. She was so beautiful....
Audio Fiction Podcast 039
"Mister Hadj’s Sunset Ride," by Saladin Ahmed, from BCS #43
But when Mister Hadj started in on them cowboy songs--well, as sure as I’m standing here, when that man got to crooning a tune he made the earth itself cry. This ain’t just me tale-telling, you hear? I seen tears fall from big red rocks when the old man hummed. Heard stones weep as they parted before him. So when Mister Hadj said that a stone in the road told him where to find Parson Lucifer, I didn’t doubt it.
From the Archives:
"The Crystal Stair, Pt. I," by Charles Coleman Finlay & Rae Carson Finlay, from BCS #3
Khatire couldn’t seem to catch her breath, afraid to swallow the fouled air. The cut in her palm throbbed like heartache. She had just killed one of the precious vaimen. In the eyes of the emperor, her life was forfeit.
“Um,” Absinthe said. The perfect opportunity had sailed athwart his bows. All he had to say was “What a beautiful dress you are wearing, my lady,” and the room would burst with his men attacking, overcoming the crowd, and the jewels would be his. Something was holding back the words. She was so beautiful....
Audio Fiction Podcast 039
"Mister Hadj’s Sunset Ride," by Saladin Ahmed, from BCS #43
But when Mister Hadj started in on them cowboy songs--well, as sure as I’m standing here, when that man got to crooning a tune he made the earth itself cry. This ain’t just me tale-telling, you hear? I seen tears fall from big red rocks when the old man hummed. Heard stones weep as they parted before him. So when Mister Hadj said that a stone in the road told him where to find Parson Lucifer, I didn’t doubt it.
From the Archives:
"The Crystal Stair, Pt. I," by Charles Coleman Finlay & Rae Carson Finlay, from BCS #3
Khatire couldn’t seem to catch her breath, afraid to swallow the fouled air. The cut in her palm throbbed like heartache. She had just killed one of the precious vaimen. In the eyes of the emperor, her life was forfeit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
