A 9-post collection

Challenge #01961-E137: A Word

Fictional character in 'Real World'. -- Anon Guest

A little kindness goes a long way. Especially when it's been so clearly lacking. When Jenny found Hodor shivering in an alleyway, she thought he was yet another homeless person out of luck. She'd given him a blanket she'd been planning to throw out anyway. And instead of saying anything that might have made sense, he'd said, "Hodor." And then followed her to work.

For Jenny, any weird situation was an opportunity. She'd always needed help with the flour sacks at the bakery anyway, and Hodor was eager to carry around fifty-pound sacks like they were pillows. He could understand, she figured that out but... he only had one word. So she invented a rudimentary sign language with him. Flapping a hand for 'hot'. Blowing on fingers for 'cold'. Patting the middle for 'hungry'. And so on.

And his presence tended to cool down the average angry and impatient baby boomer, too. All he had to do was hang around in Jenny's shadow and the customers were suddenly very polite and extremely patient. Not that Jenny and her co-bakers ever tested that very hard. Others at the bakery liked him, too. Just for that one service.

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Challenge #00857-B126: Wake up and Smell the Progress

‘We had a perfectly good slow rolling apocalypse going on before you decided to get involved, you know.’ they said, after a long pause.

‘Now you have a fast apocalypse. Rejoice; progress has come to you.’

She didn’t struggle very hard when they dragged her down into the
catacombs. And she really shouldn’t have been surprised that all the
members of the Secret Cabal were all chairmembers of various Big
Corporate Entities.

“Lord Monsando. Does this belong to you?

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Changing Worlds

I thought I’d take a break from OWS for a bit to discuss my writing. It is why I started this blog in the first place. Thinking of something to write every day has had me quasi-geared towards finding material for my blog. Great.

But it’s been keeping me from my indfic.

Thank goodness for fanfic.

I love writing fanfic. There’s so much less one has to explain, keep straight, or look up. An admired writer

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RTFM (Story!)

At the risk of borking my browser again (I don’t exactly have the best of computers) I am going to publish a novella here.

Cross your fingers.

Oyeah. RTFM stands for the techie-favourite acronym: Read The F[laming/expletive deleted] Manual. Also the most common advice to noobs encountering new technology.


C M Weller

Dave groaned. On the upside, the painful part was over. On the downside, both his arms were now in permanent casts. More permanent than the

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Good Boy (Story!)

This is one of the weird ones. And by “weird”, I mean one of the ones that dropped on me from the sky like a ton of bricks and threatened to burn a hole in my head until I wrote it down.

It ends in a weird place, but if I re-wrote it, it would inevitably turn into a novella and I would loose the short-story twist and fridge horror of it all.

Have at me… but gently. Tell

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Nor Gloom of Night (Story!)

A little bit of palaver before I delve wholesale into the fiction.

Firstly: I write Science Fiction. Yes, the red-headed stepchild of the fiction arena. Well, sparkly vampires and bodice-rippers be damned, I like Science Fiction. If you don’t, then you don’t have to read this.

Secondly: This story has been rejected by Analog Magazine. I would like to find out why, since the standard rejection letter is a trifle vague. Just… be gentle. My ego bruises

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