“Okay, Lizzy, we’ve got ten minutes left. What do you want to talk about?”
Lizzy looked up at the ceiling as she thought about what she wanted to say. After a few seconds her eyes traveled back down and scanned the screen which had been permanently affixed in a propped position on the tray in front of her.
“I’m…magic.” A young girl’s voice projected from the device’s speaker as Lizzy chose her words from her text-to-talk communication program. Continue reading
- Eleven Random Questions
I was tagged in a post about two months ago by Margaret Alexander, blogger at The Story Addict, author of Shadows of Penumbra, as well as talented artist/illustrator. I have decided it’s about time I respond. Here’s the post, and the answer to eleven random questions. I’ve changed a question or two from the original post and, instead of tagging other bloggers, I’m tagging you! Pick a question, any question, (or all of them if you want) and answer it in the comments. Come on, it’ll be fun.
- Be Good
You should hear E.T.’s voice in your head saying, “Beee goood.” when you read this title, hence the picture.
I wasn’t sure what to post today. I considered several possibilities over the course of the week and nothing felt right. I considered skipping another week on the blog, but then I would have an item on my to-do list that didn’t get crossed off for two weeks in a row; this cannot happen, so, I’m just going to share what’s been on my mind. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Part 4 and The End of Metamorph
“You know they won’t keep them more than a night for this,” Marie said as the cop car pulled away with the three men who’d assaulted her.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll have some outstanding warrants,” I replied.
“It’ll get worse before it gets better; you know that, right?” Marie asked as she started down the sidewalk.
- Friday Fiction- Part 3 of Metamorph
The two men who held the struggling woman noticed me first and shouted a warning. The third man turned and looked up in surprise as I pushed off the wall with both feet and arched through the air above him. I tucked my knees and flipped at then end so that I came down feet first, facing the greasy-haired rough.
I landed with a splash in shallow puddle that glistened like gasoline in the faint light filtering from the street. My arms came up, ready to block as Greasy Hair whipped his belt from the last loop, and brandished the heavy gold buckle like a weapon. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Part 2 of Metamorph
My new skills had nothing to do with the personal metamorphosis machine, that was strictly for disguises. The skills I planned to test were those I’d learned how to enhance genetically.
After tightening the straps of my stream-lined backpack, I took off down the dark alley at a steady run. My stride lengthened and my foot speed increased as I turned a corner and started down a long stretch of empty sidewalk. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Part 1 of Metamorph
After programming my desired settings, I opened my personal metamorphosis machine and stepped inside. I turned and pressed my back against the cool gelatinous wall. The front of the casket-shaped box began to move toward me. I forced my breathing to stay even as my lips wrapped around the breathing tube and then cool gel formed against the front of my body.
For five minutes I tried, and failed, to push away thoughts of the power going out, or a fuse blowing; of being stuck inside what I liked to call “the coffin” until I starved to death. Continue reading
- Who Are Your Favorite Female Authors?
I’m going to jump on the bandwagon today, with it being International Women’s Day and all. I’ve compiled a list of my favorite female authors and a few of the books they’ve written. I would love to hear your favorites in the comments!
Anne McCaffrey- Anne McCaffrey’s novels were my first introduction to the world of science fiction and fantasy. She, and her books, will always top my list of favorites. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Reality Check
Andrew pushed the bedroom door open, pausing just prior to the inevitable creak of the hinges. He peered through the crack into the semi-dark room.
Aurora laid on her back on the mattress. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell with shallow, even breaths; anyone else would have thought she slept.
He opened the door and let light spill in from the hallway as he walked to the side of the bed. Aurora’s eyes shifted beneath her dark-smudged lids. One corner of her mouth twitched occasionally in the closest thing to a smile he’d seen from her in weeks. Continue reading
- The Generation Starship in Science Fiction by Simone Caroti
“Everyone has an imagination- some have a more powerful one than others, and it is well-known that science-fiction fans have the most vivid of all.” Hugo Gernsback
Today I would like to share a truly brilliant work of nonfiction that I finished recently, The Generation Starship in Science Fiction: A Critical History, 1934-2001 by Simone Caroti. This work disects the birth and development of science fiction from its earliest stories to current times, in particular those having to do with the generation starship concept (stories in which generations of people live and die aboard a ship traveling through space to some distant destination).
- The Finish Line
This is not a fictional story! (Sorry, I’ve been spending all my writing time on a novel.) Friday Friction will return, as soon as I have a new short story idea.
Meanwhile, I’ve decided to share some of the random thoughts that have been rolling around in my head. Specifically, an explanation about why trying to publish a novel is nothing like running a marathon. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- The End of the Fairy Tale (Part 10)
Eddie stared through the glass window of the hospital room at Snow’s sleeping form. He pressed one hand against the pane; the other he balled into a fist until his nails dug into his palm.
“You did everything you could son.” Doc put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s time you get some rest.”
“I can’t leave her,” Eddie whispered. “I need to be here.” Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Fairy Tale Redux Part 9 (of 10)
“Isabella, I do wish you’d call me mother. After all, it’s been ten years.” Her stepmother walked forward and stopped at the edge of the old men’s long table. She placed a basket on the wooden surface.
“What do you want?” Isabella asked warily.
“I’ve come to apologize.” Her stepmother opened the basket and carefully pulled out an apple pie. She set it in the middle of the table and then withdrew two plates and two forks. “I brought your favorite dessert, as a peace offering.” Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Fairy Tale Redux Part 8 (of 10)
The morning flew by as Isabella tackled a list of chores that had been long neglected. She swept, mopped, scrubbed, polished, filled salt shakers and ketchup bottles; the one thing she could not seem to accomplish was to stop thinking about Eddie. She even tried listening in on the old men’s exhaustive conversation regarding the expected corn yield for the year, but it was no use.
After a lunch of roast beef sandwiches with a side of potato salad, Isabella’s new-found friends began to push back from the table and gather up their coats.
“Are you leaving?” Isabella asked. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Fairy Tale Redux Part 7
“Good morning,” Isabella said to the back of Eddie’s head as he stared out the window. “What would you like to eat?”
Eddie turned. His eyes widened and a slow smile stretched across his face.
“Uh, the usual,” he replied.
“Oh, well, I’m new here,” Isabella felt heat rise to her face as she stumbled over her words. “Sorry, what is your usual?”
“Whatever Doc’s making,” Eddie replied with a wink. Continue reading
- Friday Fiction- Fairy Tale Redux Part 6
The next morning Isabella woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. The tantalizing aroma seeped through the cracks around the door and filled the small room off the back of the kitchen which Doc had given to her. A deep inhalation told her brain it was time to get up. She stretched and rolled out of the covers.
As she stood, she looked down at her clothes. They were wrinkled and had acquired a few new stains from her efforts at preparing dinner the night before.
Ah well, not much I can do about that, she thought as she slid her feet into her small black shoes.
As she stepped into the kitchen, Doc greeted her with a smile. Continue reading