Our Mayor

Welcome to Matthew S. Rotundo's home page. Matt is an award-winning writer of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Read more about him here.

The Pixeltown Dispatch
Sign up here to be notified about new releases and other news of interest from Matthew S. Rotundo. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Satellite Office
The Rotundo World Tour

2019

ConStellation 10
Lincoln, NE
April 26-28

Watch this space for updates!

Progress Report, in which I discuss occupational hazards

Some 11K worth of rewrite on From Earth I Have Arisen, which, when combined with the cutting of another 900 words, brings Magic Meter here:


Family obligations (the good kind) hindered progress, but again the trend is in the right direction, so I suppose I won’t complain too much.  I was particularly pleased that I managed to trim another 900 words, as I know that I will be adding an entire chapter to the end of this thing.

Some professional setbacks had me quite down in the mouth last week.  It rather amazes, the speed with which we writers go from ecstatic to despondent.  Any occupation with this many ups, downs, and hairpin turns should come with a safety harness.  Seriously.  If OSHA ever gets wind of this, there could be sanctions.

Anyway, I’m pulling myself out of the self-pity pit and soldiering on.  As one does.

It occurs to me that I’ve been remiss in providing snippets.  So here you go:


He saw no other living soul along the way. The grassy plains, mostly brown with lateness of the season, spread from horizon to horizon in every direction. Occasional flocks of migrating birds flew overhead, including a honking V of geese, but other than that, the land was silent and empty. That was nothing new, of course; the world had gotten awfully quiet since the Red Death. Wayne usually enjoyed the peace. He considered it one of the few good things that had come of the plague. America had been such a dadgum noisy, frenetic place in the old days. For whatever reason, though, as he made his way down County Road H40, the stillness struck him as somehow eerie, as if the countryside were a giant, open-air tomb.

Two updates for Write Club, both of them novel queries:  Tier one rejects from an agent and from Angry Robot.  Response times, nine and 97 days, respectively.

And I’m out.

One Response to “Progress Report, in which I discuss occupational hazards”

Leave a Reply