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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.

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Satellite Offices
The Rotundo World Tour

2017

ConStellation 8
Lincoln, NE
April 28-30

Watch this space for updates!

Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

On Board with Launch Pad

Am pleased and proud to announce that I’ve been accepted into Launch Pad this year.

For those who don’t know, Launch Pad is a NASA-funded astronomy workshop for writers, held on the University of Wyoming campus in Laramie.  You can well imagine how valuable something like that would be to a science fiction writer and geek.  I mean, I’ll even get telescope time.  Dude.

Let me tell you, this is not an easy gig to get.  I’m thrilled and honored to be studying with these fine folks.

Please permit me a small woo-hoo!

So.  What are you doing this summer?

ETA: The one downside to all this that Launch Pad conflicts with OSFest.  I wish it weren’t so, but there’s no getting around it.  To those who are attending, have a great time, and I’m sorry I won’t be there with you.

Current Music: "A Place in My Heart"--Joe Bonamassa

Take a drive with Joe!

Now available:  Driving Towards the Daylight, the latest from Joe Bonamassa, the Greatest Guitarist Alive ™.

Seriously–what more do you need to know?

(OK, as a writer, I have to admit that the use of towards instead of toward bugs me.  But it’s Joe; I’ll let it slide.)

So?  What are you waiting around here for?

Current Music: "Stones in My Passway"--Joe Bonamassa

Progress Report, in which a guy can dream

Eked out another 1400 words on the “Just a Game” rewrite.  Or, to make it all Magic Meter-y:

Yeah, I know it’s another subpar showing, but it’s better than last week.  And though it might be a tad optimistic of me, I’m getting the sense that I’m overcoming some inertia, that I’m gonna start seeing some real movement here anytime soon.

Seriously.  Anytime soon.

Hey, a guy can dream, can’t he?

Your snippet:

“Oh, I don’t know.”  She set down her mug.  “I remember the days before the curse.  I remember the day your father led the Stampede to a national championship.”

“I envy you.”

She waved it off.  “I was only a grad assistant in those days, and new to the state.  I had never seen such devotion to a football team before.  The weeks before the game were . . . well, staggering is the only way I can describe it.  Everyone was talking about it.  Everyone wore Stampede colors.  And I don’t just mean here in Whaley.  I mean the entire state of Illinois.  And the night of the game, after your father threw the winning touchdown”—a dreamy tone crept into her voice—“it seemed like the entire town was celebrating in the streets.  Total strangers were cheering and crying and hugging each other.  You would have thought we had just won World War II all over again.”  She inhaled deeply, eyes half-lidded, then sobered.  “But I’m rambling.  I know your father isn’t well, Lucas.  I’m sorry to hear it.”

Write Club update:  A tier one rejection from Daily Science Fiction.  Response time, 19 days.

Onward.

Current Music: "A Looking in View"--Alice in Chains