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Archive for March, 2013

Launch Pad 2013!

http://www.launchpadworkshop.org/wp/wp-content/themes/launchpad/images/rocket.pngLaunch Pad is now accepting applications for the 2013 workshop.

What is Launch Pad, you ask?  Here, I’ll let founder Mike Brotherton explain it:

Launch Pad is a workshop for established writers held in beautiful high-altitude Laramie, Wyoming. Launch Pad aims to provide a “crash course” for the attendees in modern astronomy science through guest lectures, and observation through the University of Wyoming’s professional telescopes.  (In the past the workshop had NASA and NSF support and was free, but is now $500 for the week, which includes lodging and meals except for dinner.  Thanks to a wonderful and generous patron, we can offer a scholarship for travel and tuition for one attendee from the United Kingdom, European Union, Norway, or Iceland.)

I attended Launch Pad last year, and I have to tell you, folks:  even at $500, it’s a bargain.  Expanded mind?  Check.  Telescope time?  Check.  Scenic beauty?  Check.  A hella good time on top of it all?  Double check.

Apply here.  The application deadline is April 15th.

Go.  Now.

Current Music: "Going for the One"--Yes (from the Endless Soundtrack in My Head)

Progress Report, in which crossed fingers make typing difficult

And with that, I’m done with the laundry list of revisions on From Earth I Have Arisen, and believe I might have myself a draft.  Just for the hell of it, here’s Magic Meter to mark the occasion:

I still need to make one more pass through the ms to tidy up any loose threads that might remain, but after that, back to my editors it goes, with fingers crossed.  Which, I must say, makes it hard to type.  But I’m getting better with practice.

After I get From Earth out the door, it’s time to begin the rewrite of Apocalypse Pictures Presents.  I’m guessing that will take about three months or so.  I hope.  Then I’ll start a new novel, assuming I have one figured out by then.

A last snippet for ya:

God still has a plan for you.

Kathleen’s words had seemed hollow at the time, but they resonated now, sonorous as a gong.  His pulse quickened.  In her final extremity, she’d seen something he’d been blind to.

His gaze lighted on a dusty bookshelf in the corner, near the fireplace.  He knew the volumes there by heart.  By far the thickest of them, well worn and beloved, was his copy of Don Quixote.

Everyone wanted to be the hero, even in these debased times.  And that was what Nowata needed, even more than recon data.  Something transcendent, larger than life.  Heroism.  Inspiration.  Hope.

Jaime and Esteban were looking at him, their expressions mirror images of expectation.  Maybe they’d seen something in his face.

He’d pushed himself out of his easy chair, stood.  “You boys are welcome to stay here for the night, if you’d like.”

“We would,” Jaime had said.  “Thank you so much.”

“I’m going to bed.  Give the fire a poke every now and then.”  He had headed toward the stairs, paused, looked back.  “You said you were looking for work?”

“Yes.”

“Could be that I have some for you.  We’ll talk in the morning.”

No updates for Write Club.

Movin’ on . . .

Current Music: "How You Remind Me"--Nickelback

“Light Chimes,” now available for your delectation

The March 2013 issue of Penumbra is now available, featuring “Light Chimes” by yours truly.

The theme of the issue is Space Opera.  Check out the table of contents:

Wendell, Custodian of the Galaxy by Brian Griggs
The truth is simple. In space, no one can hear you clean.

The Spaces Between the Stars by Julia Nolan
The price of freedom requires a sacrifice. But can Petra make that choice?

Homecoming by Beth Cato
Poetry for the soul. Coming home may not be the best thing for humanity.

Playing to Win by Nathaniel Lee
Kyr verses the computer. Sometimes the best way to win the game is to lose.

Light Chimes by Matthew S. Rotundo
Does Rosa have the right to take one life to save another?

Hal and Dave Revisited by Bruce Golden
Some space odysseys don’t go quite as planned.

And here’s a taste of “Light Chimes:”

It was a pretty place for him to die, Rosa supposed.

A white sun blazed in a inky black sky, casting the gray-brown walls of the canyon in sharp relief. Dotting the cliffs’ stone faces were thousands of what appeared to be crystalline mineral outcroppings. They glittered in the glare, sending prismatic coruscations—reds and oranges, yellows and greens, blues and violets—cascading down the rock walls, waterfalls of color showering upon the lander half-buried in rubble on the valley floor. The rain of multi-hued light extended the length of the canyon, transforming this airless, radiation-blasted chunk of nickel and iron into a place of enchantment, a magical land where great gems lay scattered as if spilled from a giant’s jewelry box.

Light chimes, Sam had called them.

Enjoy.

Current Music: "Surgical Strike"--Queensryche