My story

My story “Catch U Death” is up to read for free at the excellent Kaleidotrope, edited by Fred Coppersmith. This is a story I wrote for myself in snippets between other work, an attempt at Weird Funny, and I am very fond of it. It’s about death and life and newsprint and fires in the gullet and needing help and the glow, so fitting, I think, for the New Year. Read it here, and if you like it, please spread the word.P.S. Kaleidotrope is a great venue, worth reading and supporting.

READ IT HERE

I’m delighted to have two new stories in Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine this year! “The Prisoner’s Cinema” will appear in the July/August issue, and “Hānai” in the November/December issue.
Here’s a taste of “The Prisoner’s Cinema”:

Madame X lifted a finger, and the Sasquatch slammed a fist into the side of Leonora’s head. She spun head for heels in the low gravity to land at Max’s feet. He offered her his hand again; after a few groggy seconds she took it and slowly stood.
“You were testing our limits,” Madame X said. “And now you know them.”
Leonora coughed, wiped a dark smudge from her lip, dipped her head graciously.
“And now that we are past that,” Madame X continued, “perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us who you are?”
“What’d they nab you for, see? Max said in an attempt at a gangster drawl. “You know, Madame X was betting on you being Bangus Shi. I mean, not you, but the new arriv—”
He was cut off by a new set of claxons. Nhe’eng lifted her chin toward the closest monitor. The livestream had cut to a camera on the outside of the station, a view from the Control module along the central tether to their own Studio module in the distance, the two modules like tin cans twirling on either end of the tether’s string with the Earth and stars slowly spinning past. The commentators were babbling something about an imminent impact.
“Ah, well, about that,” Leonora said.
Something small and bright flashed into frame on the monitors, belched a cloud of exhaust, slowed to a stop against the side of the Studio module. They heard a gentle thud from the hull somewhere off to the Sasquatch’s left, and then a mechanical rattle. On the monitor, the mysterious something unfolded to release a swarm of smaller objects, which spread along the side of the station and popped in clouds of color, a sizzle of sound audible through the hull, hints of pattern in the shifting sun. The camera zoomed in, searched shakily for the object, zoomed back out to reveal a painting that stretched halfway across the Station module: A multi-colored cartoon skull with a silver smile, a lit fuse curling from its round head, and bright bold letters underneath that read, “And introducing Bangus Shi!”
They heard a second deep thud, and on the monitor a little cloud of glittering confetti rose and slowly drifted outward into its own orbit.
Leonora turned to them with a wide smile, and shrugged. Max gave a low whistle. Nhe’eng tilted her head. Madame X lifted her finger. The Sasquatch cracked his callous-crusted knuckles and stepped forward.

I’ve sold my alternate history piece “Appearing Nightly” to Bourbon Penn, and my weird tale “Catch U Death” to Kaleidotrope. Both venues are wonderful, genre-defying journals, and I am honored and delighted to have work there. Kaleidotrope previously published my undead gangster historical fantasy horror romance “Spinning the Thread“.
Here’s a taste of “Catch U Death”:

Antony walking down the street with his shirt off glowing
even though it’s October and half the folk on the street have
jackets and the crazy lady that lives in the burnt-out ruin of
the package store wearing her hat with the earflaps, she shakes
her head earflaps flying and mutters something about heathens
but Antony don’t mean no disrespect, it’s just that the fire
burns in him all the time and he’s got to let it out. Antony
walking down the street with the fire burning in him like the
sun itself is walking there and the folk on the street loosen
their scarves and smile as he passes even if they don’t know
exactly why, as if the fire has gone right past their eyes and
into their hearts. Or into their gullets, that’s where the
voice come from says Tia Marn, and sure as Antony passes the
folk on the street think of that thing they were going to say,
or hum a snatch of that song they heard that one night when, and
even the crazy lady whistles something, might be “Catch a
Falling Star” and she’s thinking about Perry Como and almost
remembers that thing she’s been forgetting.

I am delighted to find The Night Soil Salvagers on the 2020 Locus Recommended Reading List, alongside work from a stack of favorite writers.
I also saw this note on Twitter:

At #Boskone, Vincent Docherty @vjdocherty
did manage to scoop the Hugo recs with the most sublime strange-fiction short story title, by World Fantasy Award winner Gregory Norman Bossert @gregbossert
: The Night Soil Salvagers.


I somehow entirely missed that my story “The Night Soil Salvagers” is included in this collection of “Some of the Best from Tor.com 2020”, alongside work from some amazing authors. Out now from all your favorite e-book sites for the low low price of FREE.

Details here!

Unlike everything else in 2020, my writing went pretty well this year, with four new stories published—all firmly in the Weird and all at new markets—one already sold for next year, four reprints, and art for a book cover. Two more stories finished this year are sitting on editors’ desks. Links to buy or read these, and everything else I’ve published, are available on my bibliography page.

NEW:
“The Hearts of All” in Black Static #73
“Dear Boy” in Weird Fiction Review #10
“The Damsel of Desire” in Forbidden Futures #7
“The Night Soil Salvagers” at Tor . com
“The Prisoner’s Cinema” upcoming in 2021 in Asimov’s

REPRINTS:
“The Empyrean Light” in The Year’s Best Dark Fantasy & Horror 2019
“HigherWorks” in Weird Dream Society (also the cover art!)
“The Telling” (trans. Chinese) in Science Fiction World
HigherWorks” upcoming in 2021 in Forever Magazine

…And over a dozen WIPs, including a couple of screenplays and a few novel ideas. There have been some setbacks as well: a story collection opportunity fell through, and I’ve found it difficult to write through the last third of the year due to the distractions of the world at large. Here’s to the last week of 2020, and to the year to come.

I’m doing another live stream reading of one of my short stories for Story Hour 2020 at 7pm Wednesday December 16.  It’ll be available via Zoom or Facebook Live.  Details here:
https://www.storyhour2020.com

I am delighted to announce that the wonderful Sheila Williams has bought my novelette “The Prisoner’s Cinema” for Asimov’s Science Fiction magazine. This makes my ninth sale to that venerable publication. Here’s a small taste:

“What’d they nab you for, see? Max said in an attempt at a gangster drawl.  “You know, Madame X was betting on you being Bangus Shi.  I mean, not you, but the new arriv—”

He was cut off by a new set of claxons.  Nhe’eng lifted her chin toward the closest monitor. The livestream had cut to a camera on the outside of the station, a view from the Control module along the central tether to their own Studio module in the distance, the two modules like tin cans twirling on either end of the tether’s string with the Earth and stars slowly spinning past.  The commentators were babbling something about an imminent impact. 

“Ah, well, about that,” Leonora said.

Something small and bright flashed into frame on the monitors, belched a cloud of exhaust, slowed to a stop against the side of the Studio module.   They heard a gentle thud from the hull somewhere off to the Sasquatch’s left, and then a mechanical rattle.  On the monitor, the mysterious something unfolded to release a swarm of smaller objects, which spread along the side of the station and popped in clouds of color, a sizzle of sound audible through the hull, hints of pattern in the shifting sun.  The camera zoomed in, searched shakily for the object, zoomed back out to reveal a painting that stretched halfway across the Station module:  A multi-colored cartoon skull with a silver smile, a lit fuse curling from its round head, and bright bold letters underneath that read, “And introducing Bangus Shi!”  

They heard a second deep thud, and on the monitor a little cloud of glittering confetti rose and slowly drifted outward into its own orbit.

Leonora turned to them with a wide smile, and shrugged.  Max gave a low whistle.  Nhe’eng tilted her head.  Madame X lifted her finger.  The Sasquatch cracked his callous-crusted knuckles and stepped forward.

My story “The Night Soil Salvagers” is out today on tor.com—a Weird tale of nocturnes and renewal. Or buy an e-book version for just $0.99—link in the comments. Many thanks (as always) to my wonderful wonderful editor Ann VanderMeer, to Red Nose Studio for the gorgeous cover art, and to everyone at Tor!
Read it for free online here, or buy an e-book for just $0.99 here!

A lovely review by Des Lewis of my story The Hearts of All from Black Static #73. Follow the link for more.

This is an amazing piece that is still working hard on me as I write this […] A fine visionary panoply of words. Our only hope, such poetry.

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