UPDRAFT, a high-flying fantasy, coming in 2015 from Tor / Macmillan
CLOUDBOUND, 2016 from Tor / Macmillan
[Title to come], 2017 from Tor / Macmillan
“A Moment of Gravity, Circumscribed,” (reprint) XIII (Winter 2015)
“How to Walk through Historic Graveyards in the Digital Age,” Asimov’s (April/May 2015)
“The Ghost Tide Chanty,” Tor.com (TBA)
State Liminal – for Storium (coming this fall)
“Welcome Briefing At The Obayashi-Ragan Youth Hostel” Abyss & Apex (October)
Listen carefully, kids: I’ll tell you things the other hostel folk won’t. Budget carefully. This ride isn’t forever. Don’t be afraid to go it alone.
Sure, you’ll meet someone out here. Most everyone does. Two someones, maybe. You’ll make plans. She’ll be headed for Peary Crater Moon Hostel or Eris YHA. He’ll want to see the ice-flowers on Europa. …
“Like a Wasp to the Tongue,” Asimov’s Science Fiction ~ April/May
Diana Rios swore she’d put the next stung brigger who entered her garrison med tent out of their misery with her bare hands.
“What possessed you to put a live wasp in your mouth, Jersey?” she asked, before tearing an antihistamine pen cap off with her teeth. …
“Nine Dishes on the Cusp of Love,” Daily Science Fiction (June 3)
Her: passing through to new horizons, slumming my station’s crowded bar. Me: just off a line-cook shift, eating my free meal. Her teeth flashed, her eyes gleamed, her dress sparkled. I smelled of fish and spice. Each desired other, she said later. The bar’s glass and mirrors wove a net of her and caught me, young and fresh. …
“Local Delicacies,” Drabblecast (June 15), narrated by Lauren Synger
My boss, Danny, liked to brag that El Corazon was the best Tex-Mex restaurant just off the Vegas Strip. “Because of you, Bescha,” he’d say to me. “You keep the customers happy. You keep me out of trouble.”
I won’t say which part of my job was harder. …
“The Naturalist Composes His Rebuttal,” Lakeside Circus (June 22) with bonus podcast from Don Pizarro.
Bearing in mind that on the eve of the unfortunate disaster, poor preparation may have contributed SOMEWHAT to the kinking of the ship’s main air canvas, and to our precipitous grounding, I must say –
“The Topaz Marquise,” Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Issue 152
The man waiting outside my studio three days before the new year was dark with travel, his cloak ragged and mud-stained. The gray hollows around his eyes and beneath his cheekbones proclaimed his business. Even so, I feared I would be robbed before our exchange ended.
“What are you selling?” I held the heavy brass key in my hand like a weapon, refusing to unlock the studio door. Beyond the thin wooden barrier, a rough amethyst the size and texture of a shelled walnut waited on my cutting tray to be improved. The man before me could never enter that room. …
“A Moment of Gravity, Circumscribed,” Impossible Futures Anthology ~ August 2013
Djonn’s father owned the last ticker in the city and made sure everyone knew it. Brass-bodied, the ticker looked fragile and cold, its clouded glass face obscuring the dark symbols beneath. Despite its age, it ticked loud and regular, breaking the arc of a day into increments. …
“How to Feed Your Pyrokinetic Toddler,” UFO 2 ~ October 2013
Department of New Health Services, Parenting Manual #415: With the recent epidemic of pyrokinesis-novus affecting children worldwide, parents who are eager to move from the newborn-feeding stage should consider the following guidelines and questions,…
“Without,” Nature ~ September 2012
I filled a glass of water before bed and that’s when Tim finally shouted at me.
“Look at the calendar for Pete’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you?” he said from the kitchen doorway. …
“Everyone Loves a Hero,” Daily Science Fiction ~ November 2011
The hero roars up on his Harley, and deploys a grin that could melt an ice cave. “Hey hon, what’s new?”
I can tell you firsthand that it’s impossible to hate a hero. It’s also difficult to date one,…
Morning finds the farmers’ market burst into flower and fruit below the expressway. Carts and tables elbow for space, showcasing chard, sunflowers, and bushels of crabs. The bridge above thumps its irregular heartbeat as cars rush forward over concrete slabs. …
- “Hospitale Degli Innocenti,” The Marlboro Review, Vol. 3
- “Night Watch,” Poetry Baltimore, WordHouse Press. 1997