I have been MIA because I've been working on like five different projects, but to make up for my blog absence, HERE IS A PICTURE OF THE PUPPY WE JUST ADOPTED AND HIS NAME IS PADFOOT.

Onto the Readercon schedule!

I have never been to Readercon before. So this will be a new experience.

Not listed are the things like Meet the Prose (which I'll be at, come get your quotes!) and other mingly things. Please say hi if you see me!

This is where I will be:

FRIDAY:
On Dislike: Between Meh and Rage
Salon 5
Writing Panel
Fri 3:00 PM Duration: 01:00

Futures That Feel like Home
Blue Hills
Writing Panel
Fri 4:00 PM Duration: 01:00

Group Reading: Stonecoast MFA
Salon A
Writing Reading
Fri 6:00 PM Duration: 01:00
I will probably be reading from my new novella.

Reading: J.R. Dawson
Salon B
Writing Reading
Fri 9:00 PM Duration: 00:30
I will probably be reading Legendary Legend

SATURDAY:
Rethinking the Dangerous Victim
Salon C
Writing Panel
Sat 8:00 PM Duration: 01:00

Living in Material Worlds, Part 2: What Do Clothes Convey?
Salon C
Writing Panel
Sat 9:00 PM Duration: 01:00

SUNDAY:
Kaffeeklatsch
Seven Masts
Writing
Sun 1:00 PM Duration: 01:00

I’ve been trying to do a “Thoughts on” for every story that gets published. I am behind because by doing “Brightest Star,” I’ve skipped over “Woman on the Rock,” and my “Thoughts on” for “Marley and Marley” will be published on the F&SF blog. But here is “I Set my Ship to the Brightest Star,” now available on NonBinary Review. I will warn you, these thoughts do give spoilers, so maybe listen or read the story first and then come back here.
 
This one was a painful and terrifying story to write. I started writing it years and years ago. First, it was a flash fantasy. Then it was a war story. When I heard the call for Hans Christian Andersen stories at NBR, I thought maybe that’s the home needed for this story: HCA’s world of the Snow Queen.
 
The thing that always stuck out to me about this story was the friendship and love between Kai and Gerda, and how for an emo-tastic sassafrass like HCA, this was a very hopeful story of good conquering the darkest and coldest of evils. The Snow Queen isn’t necessarily a bad person, she’s just the epitome of depression and loss.
 
And my story, about two lovers who had once been each other’s everything and now were strangers ... it seemed to fit perfectly. Not in a good way for the characters, but in a good way for the story.

The question I posed was: What if this heroic adventure had been for someone who Gerda perceived as her soul mate, but dangerously was nothing of the kind.
 
But I don’t think it’s the antithesis to HCA’s story of hope. I think our protagonist could have lived a fine life if she defined her goals in a different way. Giving our lives to those who don’t want them is maybe not the greatest of plans. Gerda could have lived out a fine life with a nice girl and made something of herself, maybe open up a candy shop somewhere on a rebel moon, who knows?
 
We don’t have to be alone. We don’t have to have closure for everyone who says goodbye. We don’t have to live in the past, but we can instead look to the future. Isn’t that what science fiction is all about?


TO READ OR LISTEN TO THIS STORY, CLICK HERE.

Yes. I am a Gryffindor.

I bring this up on the twentieth anniversary of Harry Potter, because mostly Facebook asked me what my house was, and I said Gryffindor.

Always. Gryffindor.

"Oh, so you're the chosen one," everyone who isn''t Gryffindor (in other words, everyone) says.

"So you have Main Character syndrome."

"Yeah. Everyone and their dog is Gryffindor."

Not true.

Everyone is everything but a Gryffindor, because they don't want to be the fantasy equivalent of a man bun.

Ravenclaws are smart and intellectual. Slytherins are badass and on the edge. Hufflepuffs are about 90 percent of the fandom, because let's face it, Harry Potter people are amazing and sweet and are very good finders.

"Everyone is a Gryffindor," everyone says, putting on their not-Gryffindor scarves.

At school, I tried to put together a Hogwarts festival. We couldn't do it. Because there were forty something Ravenclaws and me and some other kid in the Gryffindor house and all the professors refused to be our Head of House. The Hufflepuff Head of House had already designed presents for all the Hufflepuffles. Gryffindors? We were an army of two. And there was no mathematical way we were going to win the house cup.

That is to say, it was canceled on account of no Gryffindors.

I'm pretty sure there were more Gryffindors back in the day. It was cool back then. Be like the trio. But then everyone realized there were other houses and other stories and they expanded their horizons. That's fine.

But I'm a Gryffindor.

I've always been a Gryffindor.

"Are you sure though?" People will say. "What did Pottermore say?"

They all said Gryffindor.

"But you don't really know thought right?" they say. "I think you're more Hufflepuff."

My entire sense of self was thrown out of whack when at the age of fourteen, I was wrongly diagnosed as a Slytherin at Harry Potter camp.

Nope.

I'm brave to a fault. I work hard and help others and yes I like recognition for it but I do it for a moral compass, not to be a hero, and that can be misconstrued sometimes. Sometimes I fall short. Sometimes I can't see past the end of my nose. Sometimes I get wrapped up in whatever is happening in the center of the story I don't see the really cool stuff happening everywhere else. I jump into the middle of the mosh and I suffocate. That's okay.

I'm also the first person who will be there when you are crushed with life changing news. I will fight to the death next to your side, even if it's just some stupid puppy love broken heart or your puppy has pissed all over your rug or you have to face something worse, like your own personal dementors.

I know who I am. And that's a strong thing to know.

Happy twenty years, Harry Potter.

Roar.

The next story has hit the stratosphere.

This one, I don't want to say a lot about, because I am seeing that everyone is finding their own little things in it, and I don't want to be that writer who's like, "No no this is what I meant!" or "Well, this is what I saw," and then ruin the reader's reading of it. Or something.

I actually wrote this one for a class assignment for Science Fiction Fairy Tales at The Brainery (Link here, go check it out!). The prompt was the science of love and the story of Cupid and Psyche.

The way you get to Estes is through one of two canyons or through RMNP.  We saw the snow was going to start at noon, so we rushed through phone calls, grocery shopping, lunch, and was halfway through the canyon when the storm hit. We rolled up in a flurry of white. But as soon as we got into the cabin, it felt like home.

I kept swearing to Emlyn, who hadn't seen the mountains before, that there were indeed mountains all around, we just couldn't see them! So the first couple of days were sharing stories, writing new stuff, bringing prompts and inspiration to the table, and falling asleep to the smooth tones of Nick Molle. On the third day, Emlyn looked outside and said, "Oh! Mountain!"

Through all the writing and climbing and reading, the thing I took away is friendship. I know that sounds super ridiculous and gross, but for real. We had so much fun in these places and doing these things because we were there together. Curling around the fire and talking about the deconstruction of Steven Universe's plot arc, Zuko's redemption, and how perfect Gravity Falls paid off ... this is our life, guys. We're writers. We're nerdy writers and there is nothing more we want to do than sit around and talk about writing. Thank you for coming to the mountains. Thank you for creating and sharing and staying up late.

I'll see you next year.

I meant to publish this a month ago, as I was recovering from pneumonia. Then I got in a car wreck (not my fault) and was recovering from that. So here we are, with the blog entry that has been sitting on the side lines for way too long.

As the stories get released, I want to do a close-up "how I did the thing" on each one of them. I don't want to say too much, because I think that if I start blabbing my mouth about every single thing I did, then all of a sudden it's not the readers' story anymore, you can't make it your own. But here we are with a recap of "Legendary Legend".

This story is weird. And I love it. At some point along the 2014 timeline, I realized that when I wrote funny stuff, people read it and enjoyed it. So I wrote "Darkly".

I was in between two weird gigs on a day where I was too far from my apartment to go home, so I walked into a Hot Topic and I picked up a Clearance Darth Vader notebook and I walked to Panera and wrote a scene with a girl and a boy. It was a very specific scene in the story that I'm not going to talk about because spoilers (and intrigue!), but this scene ended up being the crux of the whole story.

When I got home, I typed out the most ridiculous parody I could think of. I threw everything I could at it. I made all the jokes I thought would be funny. You know, all the things you laugh at and you don't think anyone else will laugh?

Somehow, other people laughed. And I'm glad they laughed!

Personally, "Legendary Legend" has taught me that sometimes the weird things we think are ridiculous, other people will like. So whatever that story is, that you think is too weird? Do the thing. Try it out. Write from your heart.

Also, and this is more of a personal vendetta, my sixth grade teacher? Here's my bird to you. Because you turned the whole class against my leg injury, and here I am seventeen years later with a beat up leg and a story about a girl with a beat up leg. And I like her. And really, isn't that why we're all writers? To tell our sixth grade teachers they were horrible people?

To read the story:
ISSUE SIX OF MOTHERSHIP ZETA (CLICK HERE)