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


Watch this space for updates!

Posts Tagged ‘progress reports’

Progress Report, in which I demonstrate my erudition and eloquence

Blah blah new words blah Petra Rising.  Blah blah blah Magic Meter:

Pithy observations on writing blah blah blah.

Blah blah snippet:

Cromberg slammed the door behind him after entering.  “What the hell are you thinking?”

Kane stood at the water pump near his kitchen, working the handle, holding a small bowl beneath the spigot.  He had a washcloth draped over one arm.  The pump took its time drawing water from the well.  The previous night’s fire had taken its toll.  Given Purgatory’s proximity to the river, the well would refill soon enough.  At worst, he had to tolerate making a few extra pumps.  Others on Haven had it much worse.  He’d seen it during his outreach missions to the Bone Tribes.  Nonetheless, the delay annoyed him.  Emma’s words still rang in his head:  We need the Portal.

“Come in,” he said to Cromberg.  “Have a seat.”

Write Club blah:

Tier one blah blah blah Apex, blah 11 days.

Blah snappy signoff line blah.


Progress Report, in which I once again demonstrate my sunny optimism

So blog posts continue to be sporadic, obviously.  For me, it’s been all Petra, all the time.  (And hey, did I mention I’ve published a novel?  And that if you’re a potential Hugo and/or Nebula voter, I can get you a copy?)


Anyway, now that I have basically taught myself how to make a book, I’ve turned my attention back to other writing stuff, like updating my database, getting some short stories back into circulation, and—wait.  What’s that up ahead?  Could it be Magic Meter?

Yes, folks, I’ve actually banged out some new verbiage on Petra Rising.  Which is good, as I’m gonna need a finished novel sometime before the onset of the next ice age.  Got a long way to go yet, clearly, but the journey of a thousand miles . . . well, you know the rest.

A snippet, for your perusal:

“Even that’s too much.”  Loren’s tone was firm.  “We can’t have a member of the leadership council toddling off to Control on a wild goose chase.”

The ghost of a smile touched Kane’s face.  “And now we come to the second part of my proposal.” 

“Which is?”

“I’m resigning my seat on the council.  Effective immediately.”

With that, Kane stood and exited the room, trailing silence in his wake.

Hell, I even have a Write Club updates:

Four days to a tier two bounce from Fantastic Stories of the Imagination.

And after 706 days, I’m finally, officially giving up on Inscription.  I may be the last person on Earth to do so.  I guess I’m just too much of an optimist, sometimes.

Really, though, isn’t that what these progress reports are all about?  Optimism?  Or at least hope?

Yeah, maybe.  I’ll try not to take so long to send the next update.

‘Til then . . .

Progress Report, in which I refrain from getting too crazy

Petra Rising has more words!  See?

And some of them might even be good.

I mean, no promises, or anything like that.  Let’s not get too crazy.  But I keep moving forward, which sure as hell beats the alternative.

Your snippet:

Loren came back to the table, peering at Emma as if she were some strange insect specimen.  “Emma, if I’m understanding you correctly, you’re proposing total surrender.  Why would you do that?”

“No.  Conditional surrender.  I have to figure that the Compact would much rather take this place without a fight.  That gives us some room to negotiate.”  Emma paused.  “It’s not the greatest bargaining position, but it’s the best we’re likely to get.  It’s certainly better than condemning everyone in this settlement to death in a war we can no longer win.”

No updates for Write Club.

Onward.  That-a-way.