Torn Realities has been getting some really positive reviews.  So has my story in the collection.  I'm pretty giddy about it, honestly.  I figured I might as well share a few of them here, for those of you who aren't my Facebook Fans.  

So, here's one.  

I remind this guy of Nietzsche.  

This one highlights me AND my friend Katy, who is awesome.  

This one loved Katy's story too!  She didn't hate mine.  

 I took a flash fiction class with Cat Rambo last night.  The class was online, on Google Hangouts.  And since Cat's on the west coast, it was from 9 to midnight for me.  I started lagging a bit toward the end, but I made it through.  

It was a great class.  Not a lot of lecture, but she answered everyone's questions, and we did a lot of short exercises.  I'm going to have to share a few of them with my writing group.  And everyone in the class was very nice.  Rachel Swirsky sat in, and she was remarkable.  She had positive things to say about everyone else's work, and her own was intimidatingly impressive.  Cat did the exercises with us, too, and she was equally impressive.  

I have a whole bunch of what Cat calls "story lumps," and I'm excited to see what I can do with them.  If anyone's thinking about trying out an online writing class, you really should check these out.  

 I got two short story contracts in the mail from Stupefying Stories yesterday.  One for a story they accepted a while ago, and one for another story that I've been waiting to hear back about.  I almost never get good news in the acutal mail.  It was pretty awesome.  

Also, finished this week's Write-a-thon story.  ^_^  

Also, also, I think I'm going to take a flash fiction workshop tomorrow night!  I'm pretty excited.  Cat Rambo, who is one of my very favorite short story authors, has been doing online classes, and this one fits into my schedule.  I write a lot of flash fiction, but I've never taken a workshop about it before.  

 I sold a story to the After Death anthology!  Yay!!!  

      Talia picked her way through the shattered revolving door.  Singed bills fluttered in the pre-storm breeze as she ducked beneath police tape and took in the scene. 

     The bomb had taken out the vault door and blown half the back wall away. 

     It was impressive work. 

     She weaved between uniforms until she spotted Detective Summers kneeling next to one of the still-smoking bodies. 

     Summers looked up from the corpse and their eyes met. 

     Talia could read Summers' slightest reactions--one of her implants translated microexpressions.  Surprise, followed by hurt, then relief flashed across Summers face.    

     The relief was a surprise. 

     Things must be bad. 

     Summers stood and walked over.  "What are you doing here?" 

     No smile, no secret welcome wink.  And her voice sent a spike of longing through her heart.  Talia was glad that Summers didn't go for implants.  She crossed her arms.  "I heard the explosion.  Thought maybe I could help." 

     Summers shrugged.  "Bank job gone bad.  Not your normal gig." 

     Talia's normal gig was cheating spouses.  But she'd helped out on dozens of cases.  Before. 

     Summers' cell phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket.  "I should take this." 

     Talia's phone was wired into her skull.  So was her signal interceptor. 

     She hesitated for a second, then hacked into Summers' feed.  It was simple.  She'd told Summers to update her hardware a million times. 

     "But we've had these tickets for weeks!"

     An unfamiliar female voice.  Unwelcome jealousy curled in Talia's belly. 

     "I warned you about making plans."  Summers was using her placating tone.  Soft.  Loving.  Wrenchingly familiar. 

     She'd moved on. 

     Which, Talia reminded herself, was what she wanted.  She tuned the call out, downloaded the surveillance video, and turned back to the crime scene.  She scanned for things that unaugmented eyes might miss.  She scanned the blast pattern, the floating bills, the mop abandoned in a spreading pool of tepid water. 

     The pieces fell into place. 

     After a few minutes, Summers wandered back over.  "See anything?" 

     Talia shrugged.  "Seems simple enough."  

     "My boys think they were set to blow the safe, got suspicious of each other, started shooting, and lost track of time." 

     Talia arched an eyebrow.  "Do you buy that?" 

     "No.  And neither do you.  No one just forgot about a bomb.  And the surveillance feeds cut out too conveniently." 

     A year ago, Summers would have needed Talia to tell her that. 

     "What's your theory, then?" Talia asked. 

     Summers shrugged.  "Don't have one yet." 

     "You'll get there," Talia said.  She walked out of the bank. 

     Summers didn't call her back.

     It started to rain. 

*

     She stood on a bridge, her face bare to the thunderstorm.  The swollen, gray river rolled on under her feet. 

     She didn't know why she'd gone to the bank in the first place.  She'd called things off.  She didn't want to be tied down.  Didn't want to be needed. 

     She didn't know what she wanted. 

     Summers approached, wrapped in a sensible coat and clutching a bright red umbrella. 

     She stood shoulder to shoulder with Talia.  Rain drummed on the umbrella. 

     Talia missed the rain on her face, but the feel of Summers shoulder against hers was worth it. 

     "Tell me what happened," Summers said. 

     "You'll figure it out.  Maybe you have already." 

     Summers' shoulder shifted in a shrug.  "Maybe.  Tell me anyway." 

     "Your corpses didn't know about the bomb.  Someone else planted it.  It was in the wall.  Buried deep.  Whoever planted that bomb--that's who cut the vid feeds, tricked the robbers into turning on each other, and took your missing money." 

     "How did you know about the money?"

     It was Talia's turn to shrug.  "You're looking for the janitor.  Used to work nights, got promoted to dayshift.  Got the money out in a bucket." 

     They stood together for a while, listening to the rain. 

     "It's not serious," Summers said. 

     "I don't know what you're talking about." 

     Summers laughed.  "Why do you think I keep that old phone?" 

     "You knew I'd listen." 

     "I hoped." 

     Talia's heart ached.  "You're better off without me." 

     "Maybe." 

     Rain fell.  Cars hissed by. 

     "Maybe someday I'll get tired of waiting for you."  Summers pulled a second umbrella out of her pocked and pressed the first into Talia's hand.  "Or maybe someday you'll have enough sense to come in out of the rain." 

     Summers walked away.

     Talia stayed and watched the river rolling by. 

~~~

 I met Jeremy Zimmerman in Kansas when I did the short fiction workshop with the CSSF.  When he started Mad Scientist Journal, I thought to myself, "What a cool idea!  I'll have to write him a story!"  He accepted a story by my wonderful friend Katy Board, but I just couldn't think of anything, and I was busy writing other things.  Then, he posted a call for classified ads to run in the anthology.  I was all over that.  I wrote one, and I got most of my writing group to write some, too.  And as I reported yesterday, he accepted it.  

He also asked me if I'd be interested in writing a story for the anthology's "fiction" section.  Something mad scientists would read for fun.  So, I did that.  And he accepted it!  So, I'm going to have a short story and a flash classified ad in the anthology.  I have to say, I'm pretty excited about it.  

In other news, I wrote a new story today!  That puts me up to 5 in 3 weeks.  It's not too late to support my Write-a-thon efforts!  

 I did a really short interview about authors who've influenced me, and it's up on the Penumbra website.  I also sold a mad scientist classified ad to Mad Scientist Journal.  

      Sosondowah stood by the entrance to the Goddess of Dawn's lodge and kept watch.  He watched the stars wheel overhead.  He watched the owls fly silently through the night air.  He watched for foes that he knew would never come.  The only thing he truly guarded was Dawn's vanity. 

     But she was as powerful as she was vain, and his punishment would be severe if he displeased her. 

He watched as a woman crept out of her longhouse and slipped through the forest. 

     His attention sharpened. 

     The woman stopped in a clearing.  She glanced around, making certain that she was alone.  Then she started to sing in a voice so pure it reached the heavens.   

     She turned her face to the moonlight.  Her voice held Sosondowah's heart, and her beauty pierced it.  Then her song faltered.  She looked around again.  "Hello?"  She glanced around again, then up at the sky, once.  She rubbed her arms, as if chilled, then hurried back to her home. 

*

     Gendewitha and her sisters helped their mother plant corn.  Spring birds flitted from tree to tree, singing their sweet songs.  Gendewitha tried not to envy them as she trudged through the field. 

     At least the feeling of being watched had finally passed. 

     A bluebird landed on her arm, and she dropped her bag of corn.  The bird stared at her, its black eyes uncommonly intense.  It sang a few notes, then flew away. 

     Gendewitha stared after it.  How did it know her song?  Who had been watching her last night? 

*

     Sosondowah stood at his post.  He hoped that his turmoil didn't show on his face.  Spring had stretched into summer, and he had only dared to slip away once.  At least he had managed to overhear her name. 

     He watched Gendewitha whenever he could, but he longed to do more.  He wanted to speak with her, to woo her, to marry her.  If anyone had tried to invade Dawn's lodge while she was within view, he would never have noticed them. 

     Dawn was within now, asleep.  She could wake at any moment.  But she usually slept through the day. 

     Gendewitha was alone, fetching water for their crops. 

     He couldn't wait any longer.  He transformed into a blackbird and flew to her. 

*

     A blackbird landed on Gendewitha's water pot and stared at her with the same intense eyes that the bluebird had.  Shivers ran down her spine.  "What are you?" she whispered. 

     In response, the blackbird sang her a song. 

     It was the song she sang to the moon, subtly altered, edged with longing and magic. 

     Then the bird flew away. 

     "Wait!" she reached out for its black wing, but it was gone.

     She stood in the moonlight for a long time before she sang that night.  But when she sang, she sang the bird's song. 

*

     Sosondowah could hear Dawn tossing and turning inside her lodge, but he couldn't wait any longer.  Summer had deepened to autumn.  Gendewitha still sang his song every night, but by day her father was entertaining suitors for her hand. 

     If he didn't act now, he might lose her forever.  With one final glance back, he transformed into a hawk and flew down to her. 

*

     Gendewitha stood next to her father, looking modestly at the ground while men argued about her worth.  She fought against resentment--against a feeling that something greater was being stolen from her. 

     Where was her bird?  She could still sense him watching her while she sang--why didn't he come to her? 

     Then she heard wingbeats, and great talons wrapped around her arms and lifted her into the air. 

     She looked up at the giant hawk, and it looked back at her with intense black eyes. 

     Joy spiked through Gendewitha's heart, and she sang. 

*

     Sosondowah landed outside of Dawn's lodge and transformed into his true shape.  "I am Sosondowah," he said. 

     Gendewitha's eyes widened--she recognized the name.  "Why have you brought me here?" she asked. 

     "I would wed you, if you would have me," he said. 

     She looked him up and down, then nodded.  "I would." 

     Dawn swept out of her lodge, her eyes dark with rage.  "How dare you!" She slapped Sosondowah hard across the face, knocking him off of his feet.  A great weight pinned him down. 

     She turned to Gendewitha.  "You do not belong here, woman." 

     Gendewitha raised her chin.  "Perhaps not.  But I was invited." 

     Sosondowah struggled against Dawn's hold.  He had to protect Gendewitha. 

     A slow smile spread across Dawn's face.  "I suppose you were.  But inviting you was not his place.  It is mine." 

She grabbed Gendewitha's arm.  Pure white light spread from her hand, turning skin and flesh to shimmering fire.  Gendewitha screamed as Dawn transformed her into a star.  "It would be rude to turn you away," Dawn said. 

     Dawn threw Gendewitha high into the eastern sky.  The new star flew away, growing smaller and smaller, until she was a twinkling point of light.  For a moment, she hung high overhead.  Then she fell.  Sosondowah screamed her name, and she froze just above the horizon. 

"She will herald my approach, be my Dawn Star."  Dawn smirked at Sosondowah.  "And you will forever be able to watch her without having her." 

     Dawn let him go and reentered her lodge. 

     Sosondowah stared at the door for a long moment, then at the bright star in the east.  He imagined watching her for the rest of time.  He wondered if she could see him, if stars could yearn for their lover or cry from loneliness. 

     He wondered if she could still sing. 

     He transformed into his hawk shape.  He made his wings wide, for his journey would be long.  He darkened his feathers, to hide better from Dawn, and grew his downy layer thick, for the space between stars was colder than any winter. 

     He left Dawn's door unguarded, and flew into the sky. 

~~~

 I have 36 short story submissions and one novel submission out right now.  Four of the short stories are shortlisted.  My wait times range from 1-246 days.  I sold four stories, and had one story accepted into the SwitchJam Project.  I had one story published this month.  I wrote and submitted five new stories.  I did story critiques for the Alpha SF/F/H Workshop for Young Writers.  I wrote a blurb for my friend Jeremy's excellent forthcoming superhero novella.  I'm participating in the Clarion West Write-a-thon and keeping up with my goals.  I joined SFWA.  I started working at Electric Velocipede. 

And in non-writing related news, I hiked the Rachel Carson Challenge.  I managed to make it all 34.7 (probably closer to 35 because we got a little lost twice) miles in 13 hours and 15 minutes.  

Oh, and Paul and I went to Origins.  

 I just finished my weekly story!  That brings me up to a total of 3/2.  This week was rough.  I was pretty exhausted after the Rachel Carson Challenge, and I spent a lot of time on a story that just wasn't going anywhere.  But inspiration struck today, so I made time and got it down.  

If you're feeling inspired by my awesome productivity, head over to my page and give them some tax deductible money.