Abyssal Wells

Just got an offer from Full Armor Magazine to publish my poem "Abyssal Wells". Woohoo! It's one of the poems I am the most happy with so I'm glad to see it get out there.

The Latest in Rejections

I'm not usually one to post my rejection letters, but this one was something special. In a good way. It's rare for me to get a rejection letter that actually really encourages me. Sure, I'd like to hear "we love it, we'll take it", but I'll take this as a close second best.

I'm so sorry for the wait, the *awesome magazine* editors have been slammed with submissions.
Your story, "Morning's Light" was well received by our editors, and has been biding it's time here on our 'maybe' desk. Most of us here at *awesome magazine* are on the fence about your submission. I will say, as lead editor, that I found your characters well formed and the plot interesting. With that said, *awesome magazine* is not going to accept "Morning's Light", simply because it didn't awe us enough to make it out of the maybe pile.

We all agree that you are a good writer, and can tell a good story. We'd like to see more from you in the future.

It's hearing stuff like this that makes me keep working, keep trying, keep telling myself I'm going to kick this tiny folded flower habit of mine and spend more time writing. (I'm not really serious about kicking the folded flower habit, I love my crafts almost more than I love my writing, but I do need to spend more time typing and less time with the sewing kit.)

It can be brutal trying to get into the publishing world. It seems like I'm always prying at locks and hoping stories sneak in through the window, but when I hear encouraging stuff like this, I know I'm making headway. And hey, maybe one day the door will open and someone will invite my stories to come in and stop skulking in the bushes a little more often.

Not the Most to Say

The simple truth is just that I haven't been very productive in my writing lately. I keep throwing it over for chores, cooking, my small business. Though I am proud of the things I have been crafting. They're more "hands on" than writing, but both are an exercise in thought and creativity .

A Walk Among the Flowers

Plants have always held a special place in my life and my interests. My mother taught me how to find mushrooms and wild berries when I was younger. I worked caring for over an acre of gardens while I was in high school. I studied horticulture on the side while I attended university.


And now, I've found that plants can be an inspiration for my writing.



There was ample chance for inspiration and enjoyment on the hike I took with my mother and a close friend this week. The whole mountainside was in bloom, and even if no story ever comes of the sights, I've got a wonderful folder full of colorful little snippets of time.

My First Short Story Sale!

Today I got news that A Fly in Amber is buying my short story "Seeds". It's a very exciting event for me since it's the first time I'll have had someone actively buy a story. I'm glad to be getting a start in the markets and I'm thrilled to have proven to myself that I can write and sell a story.

Birthday Braindeath

We had a huge crazy-awesome party celebrating my birthday last night. I'm still recovering a bit. No I did not get drunk. Yes, I probably ate too much (but won't face the scale). Fire was involved. So was ribs. And axes. I have been told it was the manliest party ever.

I'm a girl.

I think I'll still call it a success. Also, castle shaped bundt pans are awesome.

Remembering Light

Is the title of a story by Marie Brennan. And I must say, I'm all for any story set in the world of Driftwood-- a strange, mist-shrouded land in which all worlds come to die. How does one come up with a concept like that?

I mean, I have heard that we write what we know, but how does Ms. Brennan know such things (and why do I never seem to have such good ideas). I suppose it is not all that far off from concepts like the apocalypse and Ragnarok, but it is a very different way of addressing the end (and one I had not come across in myth before).

However, despite the curious nature of Driftwood and the terrifying crush, the most compelling thing about Ms. Brennan's writing is the way she addresses the lives of the people of this "world" and in particular the life of the man called Last. How does one survive the end of the end? How do you cope when your world becomes smaller and smaller by the day--swallowed up by the worlds crushing in around you?

One thing that had not occurred to me at first, but must indeed be a huge issue in a place like Driftwood is the language barrier. It sounds interesting, even fun, to run around in so many worlds and see fragments of so many places. But how do you keep from getting lost when the language a few miles from your fragment of a homeworld might be entirely different than the one you speak, and how do you find your way around when the landmarks are constantly being swallowed by the grinding of worlds?

Driftwood is a fascinating place to visit and that has not changed since the first time I became aware of its existence in her short story "Driftwood". In "Remembering Light" we learn a little bit more about Last, a woman named Noirin, her world of Surnyao and the nature of people who are not quite human in shape but very real and human in nature.

Remembered Light
Driftwood