Tag Archives: Writing

Writing prompt: The devious cat

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Time: 7 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

“The devious cat”

I lie on my couch and watch my master. I gurgle and roll around, feeling the suede fabric against my fur. This time of year it’s a combination of pleasure and a little pain, with the sound of a thousand static shocks singing out. My roommate turns and smiles at me. She doesn’t know what I am, but that’s okay.

I leap down and saunter over, and my roommate coos. I taste the ground as I walk with the pads of my paws; there is pollen and dust and dead skin cells. I load them into storage for now. When I sleep, I will upload them to the cloud.

I wonder how much longer we will be here. How much data will be enough for the creators? I don’t know how long we’ve been here thus far. My task is a small part of a large one. Sometimes the other gatherer and I talk about the creators, but not often. We are always gathering the same information, he and I; it is hard not to feel competitive.

My roommate pets me. “Oh, who’s a friendly kitty today?” She adjusts my collar. She thinks she owns me. It’s cute, and I don’t discourage it. Time to nap and upload data.

February Reading Review

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Every day, new, wonderful works of fiction are published, more than most could ever read. Lately, I’ve tried to read a couple of science fiction or fantasy stories each day. It’s a good way to learn about the magazines, and the state of the genre today. It’s also a way to read some great fiction. In this post, and in the ones like it in following months, I’ll list some of my favorites.

Short fiction:

Longer stuff:

  • Beyond the Glass Slipper: Ten Neglected Fairy Tales to Fall in Love with by Kate Wolford (2012): In this book, Kate Wolford, editor of the fairy tale magazine Enchanted Conversation and teacher of fairy tales at Indiana Southbend, presents ten unusual fairy tales. All are historical, but told less commonly. She offers commentary and discussion about each. I bought this on a whim rather than a purpose, but I absolutely loved it. Her discussions pointed out things I hadn’t considered about fairy tales, and gave me a whole new angle on them. I found it both fascinating and very inspiring.
  • Wonderbook by Jeff VanderMeer (2013): I am still working my way through this book, but thus far I am very pleased with it. This is a guide to writing that actually inspires while you read; I find myself jotting down notes about things to try or aspects of old things to revisit. Often, I find myself feeling somewhat self-conscious and discouraged, no matter how kind the tone of a writing book, so I really found it noteworthy. It is packed with quirky or even absurd illustrations, and lots of visually based diagrams. It is also not only by VanderMeer, who has taught at Clarion workshop, but features essays by writers both super famous (Ursula Le Guin and Neil Gaiman, for two) and unfamiliar to me. I have read 3.5 chapters of 7, so I will have to report as to my final reaction, but so far, so good.

Writing prompt: Red

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Time: 7 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

“Red” (this prompt was inspired by my science fiction group’s monthly theme. Red was chosen relating to February and Valentine’s Day, but we know there are other themes red suits as well.)

I woke to fresh snowfall outside my window, but it wasn’t the glittering field of white that caught my eye, it was the speckles of red in the white. I woke up and pulled on my robe and slippers and blundered into the brilliant glare. There in the snow, not thirty feet from my house, I found the red in the snow. It was clearly blood, and a lot of it. I felt a cold that had nothing to do with the snow. I kicked at the snow. Perhaps, somewhere, there was a clue to what had happened in the field, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to touch the sullied snow.

My dog, Clover, ran out from the house, through the door I’d left standing wide open. He bounded over, initially happy to see me, but after a moment concerned himself with the patch of snow as well. He didn’t have my compunctions about the blemished snow, and instead buried his face into it, seeking the heart of the problem.

He brought his face up, smeared with red and frost. And in his mouth was a pendant, with the sign of a saint I didn’t know.

“Good job, boy!” I said, and Clover dropped the chain in my hand, and proceeded to kiss me with his scarlet smeared mouth. I screamed and ran back into the house, someone or something’s sticky blood all over my hands. Clover cocked his head to the side and followed behind me. I washed my hands and then I went to the computer to look up this saint.

Book Review: Cyteen (C. J. Cherryh 1988)

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There are no spoilers in this review beyond what you’d find in the first few chapters or the cover blurb.

Rating: 4/5

Cyteen was the winner of the 1989 Hugo Award. It is about neither cyborgs nor teenagers nor cyborg teenagers, despite the name; Cyteen in the name of a planet. Cyteen takes place in the same universe as Downbelow Station (which I reviewed here) in a different culture and time. Like Downbelow Station, this is a book that requires patience up front, but offers great rewards. Cyteen is 750 pages of intricate scheming and counter-scheming, supported by interesting and conflicted characters.

Cyteen is the capital planet of the Union, one of a few major political entities in a future where humans have drifted amongst numerous stars with faster-than-light travel. The economy of Union is largely supported by the production of a cloned working force called “azis”, who are psychologically trained to serve in various capacities. All azis are produced in a research lab/city called Roseune. The book opens with power struggles between the forces of Roseune, the military, and another faction. A murder follows this initial conflict, which weakens the status of Roseune and fundamentally alters the lives of the characters. The continuing power struggles are described through the individuals trying to survive them at Roseune.

My biggest complaint: the book takes too long to develop. The first 20 pages are textbook-style background. Even after that, my progress was slow. It took a while to figure out a lot of the politics, and I didn’t understand what azi were for at least a hundred pages. Additionally, it read slowly, constantly packed with intricacy and detail on each large page of text. I very much enjoyed this book, but it is not light reading. Read this one when you have a solid block of time to set aside.

I would recommend Downbelow Station over Cyteen, although I prefer the characters in Cyteen. Despite a shared universe, the styles of the two books differ substantially. Downbelow Station is a smart space opera, threaded with politics. Cyteen is a personal drama, saturated with politics. If you enjoy hard science fiction and you are patient, you will probably enjoy both of them.

Writing prompt: the lights blinked off on the ship

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Time: 5 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

“Lights blinked off all over the ship”

Daisy watched as lights blinked off all over the ship. First at the front of the boat, then progressively to the back. Finally the whole boat was engulfed in blackness. After her eyes adjusted, Daisy could see the stars glittering off the ocean. She hoped that now, the enemy could not see them. She didn’t know how the enemy saw.

Her master approached. “Don’t worry, doggie. I know it’s dark, but dark means safe.”

She could hear the fear in the girl’s voice. She started to shake. This corridor was dangerous, even a dog knew. It was the only way to the fabled north sea. In the north sea, everybody played games all day long, and the sun never set. She licked the girl’s hand. It made Daisy feel better to try to please her master.

She heard the buzz of engines above. She cringed. Her ears were better than her master’s.

“What is it, Daisy, what do you hear?”

She wished she could tell her master to run, to hide. But she couldn’t. She could only hope. So she licked her hand and stared into the little girl’s wide, friendly eyes. She looked over her shoulder. She heard the engines now too.

Writing prompt: unexplored wilderness

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Time: 7 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

“Unexplored wilderness”

The sweat dribbled down Aaron’s back. The containment suit was unbearable and yet necessary. The lush jungle spread before him. He was the first human ever to set foot in this place. Bugs swirled around his covered face, perhaps sensing his warmth, even if they could not reach it. They gleamed in gold and emerald and sapphire. One appeared, only to be chased off by another. Their reflections filled the air, off into the distance.

As on Earth, the jungle floor was mostly covered with debris, only a small trickle of light permeating this far. Here and there lay a fallen log, covered with new fledgling trees. The flora was full of surprising colors, including whole sections of white, fern-like plants. Perhaps they functioned on a non-chlorophyll system. Somebody would look into it later. Now, he was the first visitor after the rovers. He stepped slowly through the brush, carefully placing his feet.

In the distance, he saw an animal. His first animal. Now he realized that he heard no birds or rodents. He didn’t know if it was for a lack of them, or because he had spooked them. This animal stood on its hind legs, with small forelegs, a little like a kangaroo. Unlike a kangaroo, it was pink, with an enormous prehensile tail. He hastened to see it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He stepped forward.

Riiiip. He looked down. He had torn his containment suit. One of the sapphire insects buzzed past.

Writing prompt: night at the pool

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Time: 7 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

“Night at the pool”

She awoke at the pool. Agh, she must have fallen asleep again. Not good. The burns from last time had taken a week to go away. That warm, balmy sun was so relaxing, until it slow-cooked the outer layers of your skin.

It was dark out. Utterly dark. The small lights around the pool glimmered in the darkness. They did little to beat it back. Everything beyond 10 yards was inky and lost. Even the stars were hidden. It was fog, that weird, heavy coastal fog that came in sometimes, thick as soup. She was cold now. She wrapped the towel around her tender skin.

She slid her flip-flops on. Something in the pool splashed. Probably a frog. She got the net to fish it out, otherwise the thing would be dead in the morning. She walked over to the pool, thwack, thwack, thwack. Sometimes they could be so fast. Where did it go? She leaned over the water, her eyes straining to penetrate the dark pool.

Something moved. It was big, person sized. There were alligators around here. It was time to leave the pool. She hastily gathered her things and left the pool deck. The gate did not bang shut behind her.

The parking lot was impossibly dark. What had happened to the lights? It was only a few hundred meters to the apartment, but she had never done the trip blind. Had there been a power outage? But then why were the lights at the pool still function. She made her way as quickly as she dared in the saturating darkness.

She paused. She heard footsteps behind her. The cadence was not human.

Book Review: Lilith’s Brood (Octavia Butler 2000)

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There are no spoilers in this review beyond what you’d find in the first few chapters or the cover blurb.

 Rating: 4.5/5

Lilith’s Brood is a collection of three novels by Octavia Butler published from 1987 to 1989, gathered together in 2000. The set of three books, also called the Xenogenesis trilogy, is about 750 pages long. They were published as three novels, but I would highly recommend reading them back to back as I did. The world that Butler builds over the three novels is complex. I would have had trouble trying to read the second or third novels after a long gap.

Lilith’s Brood was my first book by Octavia Butler. The writing is incredibly readable; I easily covered 50 pages an hour.  Some science fiction novels dump world-building at the beginning;  it can be something the reader has to fight through. Butler does not do this; she develops the main character first and then the environment from the eyes of the main character. The world she eventually develops is intricate and explained in detail, but by the time she got to it, I was engaged.

The trilogy opens with Lilith, a woman who survived World War III on a now ravaged Earth. She is held alone by aliens called the Oankali. Without going into spoiling detail, the Oankali are extremely alien. All three books develop the Oankali, and they are as much of the world Butler builds as anything. The Oakali want something from Lilith, though she is unsure what. Lilith finds them physically frightening, and is uncertain about her future.

Butler approaches situations from the character’s emotional response, rather than from a technical aspect. The book explores themes of gender, sex, humanity, and community–some pretty hefty topics that sci-fi sometimes skirts, especially at the time of its writing. I rate the book as a 4.5/5 partially because of this novelty and distinctiveness. In many stories, I enjoy rooting for a protagonist or a certain course of events. In this story, I didn’t know what I wanted, which was odd, but not bad. My only real criticism of the story is that, while certain aspects of the world were highly developed, it was hard to imagine living in this world. While I enjoyed reading about this world, I think I would find it profoundly dull. Still, I highly recommend reading this, especially if you haven’t read Butler before.

Writing Prompt: Intrigue and Alchemy

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Time: 10 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

This prompt led to my short story “The Alchemist’s Contract“, which appeared in Swords and Sorcery Magazine in November 2013.

“Intrigue and Alchemy”

“Beware the alchemist,” the man said from the shadows of the tavern. I wasn’t sure if he was truly real at first- I could see only the glow of his pipe, the shine of his glassy false eye, and his oversized black boots emerging, crossed, from the shadows. The soles were crumbling and peeling, looking more eaten at by some creature than by wear and years.

The room grew quiet as our party turned toward the man.

“Pay no mind to him,” someone behind me said.

“We have business with the alchemist,” I said. “He is a man of business, and we have the coin to entice him.”

“Don’t mind me, then,” the man in the corner said. He leaned forward. I expected gruffness, a man who’d lived a harsh life. His skin was smooth and pale. His one eye reflected distress and concern.

“Boy, you’re not more than 25,” my companion said. “Making stories about the alchemist to rile traveling strangers.”

“You’re mistaken,” he said gently, “I’ll be 80 next month.”

“Is this at all true?” my companion asked the barkeep.

The keep looked away and began to polish glasses.

“The alchemist,” the man in the corner said,” took my age from me, as sure as the Long War took my eye.”

“I’d like such a theft,” I said, three beers in.

“Well then, take yourself to the alchemist.” He stood and walked out the entryway, with the gait and pace of my grandfather.

Writing Prompt: Cleaning the Lab

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Time: 7 minutes. Click here to go to my list of prompts.

“Cleaning the lab”

Ash scowled at the mess sitting in front of her. What a mess decades of research could produce. Now, as the last student, it was her job to clean all of it, whether she knew what it was or not. What a graduation present!

She started with the stack of archaic computers. No one even knew the passwords to operate them anymore, not that anyone should care to. Top of the line, decades ago. If you need to make a killer cassette recording, this is your machine! She loaded them onto a cart, bringing them batch by batch to the electronic reclamation center. Their problem now. Three cartloads later, and at least that batch of junk was gone. The dust under the pile was incredible. While it wasn’t her job to clean the dirt of the lab, something was too disgusting about this dust not to try to improve. She didn’t have any cleaning implements. She wetted a rag and wiped the worst of it away. Three lines of the dirt remained, sinking into the painted cinderblock walls. They almost looked like a door…

She looked closer, and the cracks were the dirt had stuck seemed to penetrate into the concrete. She thought of the floor plan for the building—was there anything on the other side of this wall? There was an office next door, but it seemed like there was a dead space in between. She would have assumed it was for ventilation, if she’d ever thought of it before, but now she was looking at a tiny, bizarre door, about 2 feet high and 2 feet across. She got a crow bar from across the room and wedged it into the crack. She pulled, and the door yielded. Inside were thousands of tiny sprites, chained to tiny desks, in a room no more than 4 feet by 4 feet.

“What on earth is this?” She exclaimed, more to herself than them.

“We make the science,” one of them said, forlornly, before returning its hands to its intricate task at hand.