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Showing posts by: Steven Gould click to see Steven Gould's profile
Fri
Nov 30 2012 3:00pm
Excerpt

Take a gander at this excerpt from Impulse by Steven Gould, out on January 15:

Cent has a secret. She lives in isolation, with her parents, hiding from the people who took her father captive and tortured him to gain control over his ability to teleport, and from the government agencies who want to use his talent. Cent has seen the world, but only from the safety of her parents’ arms. She’s teleported more than anyone on Earth, except for her mother and father, but she’s never been able to do it herself. Her life has never been in danger.

Until the day when she went snowboarding without permission and triggered an avalanche. When the snow and ice thundered down on her, she suddenly found herself in her own bedroom. That was the first time.

[Read more]

Fri
Apr 17 2009 9:30am
Original Story

The first few days were just weird and annoying. You’d come out in the morning and find one of the damn things had chewed most of the way through your car’s antenna. A week later, people were crashing because the bugs had eaten through brake lines or the cars wouldn’t start at all ’cause the bugs had gone for all the copper wire. And remember, they just bud off another bug when they’ve eaten enough so their numbers increased geometrically. By the end of the first month they’d done for the entire car, finishing off the engine block and every last steel wire in the radial tires. By the end of the first week people were driving out of the southwest. By the end of the first month they were walking.

We didn’t realize they’d go for your fillings and crowns until they’d done for most of the infrastructure in Arizona and New Mexico. What? Yeah, that’s what caused the scarring. There was extensive reconstructive surgery too, or it would be worse. Would I go back? Huh. I’d have to have some of my dental work replaced but it’s not like I have a pacemaker or an artificial joint. But no. I don’t think so. It may be more crowded outside the territory, but who wants to live without metal?

Excerpt: When the Metal Eaters Came: First-Person Accounts

This story is also available for download from major ebook retailers.

* * *

The second day after leaving the Rio Grande, on the downslope east of the Manzanos, Kimball pulled over the lip of a hill and found an argument in progress.

Mrs. Pedecaris, the mule drawing his cart, had apparently heard them first for her ears twitched forward well before the top of the hill. Kimball was not surprised. The trail they were following had become more of a road, well-defined wheel ruts with fresh tracks, and fresh horse manure just beginning to dry.

Kimball had looped the reins over the brake lever while he was weaving the last bit of a wide-brimmed green cattail hat—and Mrs. Pedecaris slowed as she approached the cluster of vehicles just over the hill.

There were five carts similar to Kimball’s, high-wheeled boxes with composite wheels and axles. Three were horse-drawn, one mule-drawn, and one cart had lowered shafts and a cross bar to be pulled by hand, like a Mormon cart. Then three freight wagons with six-horse teams stood in a row, and there were a couple of saddle horses in front of them.

Kimball took Mrs. Pedecaris off the edge of the road to where a tough patch of dry buffalo grass was doing all right in the shade of some low mesquite bushes. He pulled off her bridle so she could crop the grass and said, “Pull up a chair, Mrs. P.” The mule snorted and dipped her head into the grass.

The road dipped sharply, into a cut leading down into a broad arroyo running down from the mountains. That’s where the cluster of people stood, crouched, or sat.

“—dehydration is really the issue.”

“Maybe we could throw a canteen?”

“Dammit, how many times do we gotta argue this? You crush a bug they’ll swarm her for sure. Us too.”

Tue
Nov 18 2008 11:44am

This work of art was created last year by my daughter as she ruthlessly gutted all sorts of stuffies to create a more harmonious whole.  I suppose it could be viewed as a Frankensteinian version of diversity.

As I said at another blog:

If these stuffies can come together to make a greater whole, then we Americansnay, we humans planet wide!should be able to as well.
(The dismembering and sewing together thingit will hurt at first.)

I love it but I was reminded of it when watching a video detailing the art of Maya Lin.  Lin’s most famous work of art is the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, DC, designed when she was 21 for a public design competition while still an undergraduate in sculpture at Yale.

Lin also works on art that uses some of her own children’s abandoned toys but what is really cool are the four installations she’s done utilizing the shapes of waves in landscape.

Maya Lin’s Wave Field

Video at the New York Times.

Fri
Oct 31 2008 2:32pm

Stevie Chuckles’ Advice to New Writers

Part Four: A Word About Conventions

(Part One here.   Part Two here.  Part Three here.)

You are important. Your writing is important. You and your writing are more important than anybody else (and their crummy writing). Here are some behaviors you can embrace to accentuate your place in the writing universe.

  1. Now that you’ve published you should send a letter to the World Con committee that you’re now available for Guest of Honor gigs. Regional conventions will also wish to be appraised of your availability as they never have enough really GOOD writers to worship. They will appreciate this.
  2. When you do panels, you must create a model of Stonehenge out of copies of your own books, piled high enough to obscure most of the other panel members.
  3. [Read more...]

Thu
Oct 30 2008 2:33pm

Stevie Chuckles’ Advice to New Writers

Part Three: After you’ve published

(Part One here. Part Two here.)

You are important. Your writing is important. You and your writing are more important than anybody else (and their crummy writing). Here are some behaviors you can embrace to accentuate your place in the writing universe.

  1. If your work is a novel or in an anthology, immediately go to Amazon Dot Com and post several rave reviews. If the work is in an anthology be sure and point out how it stands head and shoulders above the other shit in the book. The readers will thank you for directing them to the “good” stuff.

    [Read more...]

Wed
Oct 29 2008 3:41pm

Stevie Chuckles’ Advice to New Writers

Part Two: After you’ve sold but before you’ve published

(Part One here.)

You are important. Your writing is important. You and your writing are more important than anybody else (and their crummy writing). Here are some behaviors you can embrace to accentuate your place in the writing universe.

  1. It’s hard for people to find the good stuff with all the crap that is published out there so be sure and send emails to everyone you know (but especially those you don’t know) to let them know about your upcoming work. You should also attach a very large, high definition video trailer for the work, explaining that the field of literature is about to be reinvented and invigorated, with all previous works cast into a dark shadow by the new shinyness that is you and your work. No little tiny grainy quicktime video will do. Production values matter. Make sure the attachment is sufficient length and size—in other words, GRAVITAS—to adequately clog their mailbox like half a roll of toilet paper in a public toilet. That way they are are sure to notice it.
  2. [Read more...]

Mon
Oct 27 2008 4:51pm

Stevie Chuckles’ Advice to New Writers

Part 1: Before you sell

You are important. Your writing is important. You and your writing are more important than anybody else (and their crummy writing). Here are some behaviors you can embrace to accentuate your place in the writing universe.

Most of all, remember that rules are for OTHER writers.

  1. Manuscript format is for people without genius. Allow yourself to express your creativity with interesting paper, inks, and unusual fonts. Strange packaging—say, the uncured hide of a unicorn—will also bring your manuscript the attention it deserves. Don’t worry about return addresses. If they really like it, they’ll find you.
  2. [Read more...]

Tue
Aug 26 2008 11:30am
Original Story

 

Xareed had been waiting for the water truck for two days, seated in the dirt at the edge of the camp, his family’s plastic ten-liter water-jug tied to his ankle.

He didn’t like being on the edge of the camp. Except for the piece of cardboard he carried impaled on a stick there was no shade. The poet Sayyid had said, “God’s Blessing are more numerous than those growing trees,” and Xareed hoped so, for there were no trees in the camp or outside. So the blessings had better be more numerous, not less.

Being on the edge of the camp, especially on this side, was also bad because rebels would occasionally fire into the tents from the far side of the old lakebed, or set up mortars among the folds and gullies in the bottom.

Bad enough, but when the government troops came in response, the rebels would be long gone, and the troops would say they were hiding in the camp and there would be searches and arrests and summary executions.