So here’s what words I have (or will have) available to fans of science fiction and fantasy.
“Entries From My Grandmother’s Diary Pertaining to My Father’s Early Inflammation” (co-authored with my late grandmother), Abyss & Apex (expected 2021)
More haiku, Frozen Wavelets
Yet more haiku (expected August 2020)
Haiku, Frozen Wavelets (Issue #1, Fall 2019). Full issue.
“The Crystal Zyst: A Eula Banks, State Certified Zeitle Engineer, Story“, Cosmic Roots and Eldritch Shores (July 31, 2019) — Subscribe to CRES
“…we’re gonna have to wing it. There’s experts for this with high-Z equipment, but the nearest is two states away. We gotta make do with what we got…” Eula took a breath, “…because we ain’t got time to wait on them.”
“Impending Karma Strike“, Amazing Stories (Issue #3, Spring 2019)
It was wrong that assholes got to buy off their bad karma, but money and science found a way. When the inevitable accidents happened, his teams dealt with it.
“A Multitude of Sparks Descend“, Galaxy’s Edge (Issue #35, November 2018) — Buy the print issue at Amazon.
Where are you? I trace ringing photons, syncopated cosmic ray beats, attenuated quaverings of taut space-time chords.
“The Memory of a Memory“, Syntax & Salt (2018 Issue #3, 22 September 2018)
I crack time. Part the seam, step into gray-green gloom. I wait as eyes adjust, hear the seam flutter closed. Bookshelves line the corridor, extend into the past.
“Requires Replenishment“, Martian, the Magazine of Science Fiction Drabbles (20 August 2018)
Dead alien in trunk.
“Shattered Hand“, Beneath Ceaseless Skies (Issue #258, 16 August 2018) — Buy the issue.
Long shadows skittered before us, cast by a newly risen sun. Kayta and I loped across burnt desert; tracked the wind-eroded dusty treads of uncounted pilgrims, Covenant youth, warriors. Evaded what few sentries patrolled the perimeter. Empty sky, empty land, no one, nothing to see. A banned land. Minimally guarded—uncovenanted entry is death.
“The Consequential Effects of Practiced Penmanship“, Abyss & Apex (Issue #66, 1 April 2018)
Time cracks and uhrbuchs rustle. I look up from a half-penciled illustration.