Machine

My first novel was released in January 2012. For more information, including information on how to buy it, a link to the first chapter online, and the text of the cover blurb, visit my Machine page.

Unwelcome Bodies

My short fiction collection was released on February 29, 2008. It contains the following stories:

"For the Plague Thereof Was Exceeding Great" "Big Sister/Little Sister" "Immortal Sin" "Flood" "The Call" "Captive Girl"

"Last Bus" "The Last Stand of the Elephant Man" "Songs of Lament" (previously unpublished) "Firebird" (previously unpublished) "Brushstrokes" (previously unpublished)

To read more, visit my Unwelcome Bodies page.

Stories Available Online:

"The Burning Bush," podcast at Escape Pod
"Captive Girl," in Helix SF, issue 2 (now on Transcriptase)
"Dazz," in Coyote Wild, Spring 2007, Volume 1, Issue 2
"Flood," in Abyss and Apex, 1st Quarter 2006
"For the Plague Thereof Was Exceeding Great," in Strange Horizons
"Ghosts of New York," podcast at Podcastle
"Ghosts of New York," in Apex Magazine
"Immortal Sin," podcast at Escape Pod
"The Kennel Club," in Helix SF, issue 9 (now on Transcriptase)
"The Last Stand of the Elephant Man," in Helix SF, issue 6 (now on Transcriptase)
"Mercytanks," in Helix SF, issue 4 (now on Transcriptase)
"Snow Day," in Strange Horizons
"Snow Day," podcast at Escape Pod
"When Science Fiction Clichés Go Bad," in The Town Drunk

Full Bibliography:

"Big Sister/Little Sister," Apex SF and Horror Digest, issue 3, Fall 2005
Reprinted in Best of Apex 2005

She played at refusing, then demurred and followed him out of the bar, where silence draped over them in the crisp night air.
He perked his head to the side. "Do you hear something? Kind of like somebody whispering?"
"Must be the wind," she said, and pinched her belly hard.

"Blood Baby," Apex SF and Horror Digest issue 8, Winter 2006
Reprinted in Best of Apex 2006

As the bodies piled up, a young girl who had just begun her first cycle went to the fissure and flung her soiled menstrual rags down into it. "You want blood?" she'd cried. "Take mine!"

"The Body Shop," Alien Skin Mag, April/May 2006

"Ms. Saunderson, I'm afraid we're declaring your old body totaled."
     "Totaled? But it just had two broken legs!"

"Brushstrokes," Unwelcome Bodies, February 2008

Seph stood on the cobbled streets of Old Town, one gloved hand covering the bare spot on his painted face, waiting for the next crawler back to his neighborhood. He kept a watchful eye out for the Caste Police and tried not to think about the smear of cobalt and gold he'd just left across the rough brick wall of his favorite alley as Roland had clenched him from behind and eased himself into Seph with practiced strokes.

"The Burning Bush," Here and Now, issue 5/6, May 2005
Podcasted at Escape Pod, September 22, 2005 (direct link)

"The thing is," he said, gesturing at the book, "there's no proof in here. It's all just faith. My scientific mind demands rational proof!"
     "What will it take?" I asked. "A burning bush?"
     And then my pubic hair caught fire.

"The Call," Fictitious Force, issue 2, Spring 2006

Would you step forward out of a sense of duty to your species and your planet? Would you be more interested in being the first human that the aliens allowed to meet them in person? Would you be in it simply for your ticket to fame and historical immortality? Or would you really just be running away from a life that was too difficult and complicated to keep living anymore, hoping that by surrendering yourself to them, you'd never need to worry about messy human choices again?

"Captive Girl," Helix SF, issue 2, October 2006 (Transcriptase archive link)
Awards: 2007 Nebula Nominee, 2007 Short List for the Gaylactic Spectrum Awards.
Reprinted in The Nebula Awards Showcase 2009

Mittened hands grope at the metal mask welded to her face, and she's shocked to realize that they're hers. She sags forward onto her walker, resting the mask on the padded bar that rings her. She is too tired to call up any video, any audio, and surrenders her overextended senses to nothingness. She struggles to walk forward a few steps, but the seat/body interface chafes, and she works her mouth in a silent gasp behind the metal.

"Clone Barbecue," Apex Online, issue 17, April 2006
Also printed in Space Squid, issue 2 (May 2006)

"'You are cordially invited to eat me.' Well, this is certainly an evocative invitation, Carl." Charlene tipped her glittering invite into the crystal bowl just inside the door, and it vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Dazz," Coyote Wild, Spring 2007, Volume 1, Issue 2 (direct link)

One of her legs didn't feel quite right. Was it just the dazz? She took a few hesitant, sluggish steps, one leg responding too slowly, one barely responding at all. No, it was definitely her leg, not the drugs. She reached up her dress, found the join, and snapped the prosthetic back into place. Much better. Still, it felt like her legs would need another power jolt soon. The next trick she turned would have to be for money, not for drugs.

"Erasure," Apex SF and Horror Digest, issue 4, Winter 2005
Reprinted in Best of Apex 2005

Bare trees reach ghostly gray fingers up into the darkening November sky, and she stares at them as the cab careens through the city streets. Do they remind her of something sinister, or is it just her imagination running away from her, trying to fill in the gaps that she'd just had the doctor put in place?

"Flood," Abyss and Apex, 1st Quarter 2006 (direct link)

And Owen sits down at Callie's hip, carefully avoiding all the precious plastic bottles, recycled from the desolate world outside. Some once held fizzy drinks, some cough syrup, still others carried tiny amounts of liquor on the airplanes that once criss-crossed the sky. They're all relics of a world long gone, recycled to keep this world alive.

"Firebird," Unwelcome Bodies, February 2008

She showed up just in time to dump her things in the room and introduce herself before we had to head out for an orientation assembly. Her skin grafts look a lot better in person than they do in high def, and her wig looks just like real hair. And you couldn't even tell that her eyes were fake.

"For the Plague Thereof Was Exceeding Great," Strange Horizons, May 19, 2003 (direct link)

Kathleen Murphy gripped her can of Mace tightly as she rode the Red Line to work, hands sweating inside the latex of her surgical gloves. All around her, her fellow T riders were openly clutching Mace or pepper spray as well, all glancing around the car from behind safety goggles and surgical masks. Technically, it was still illegal to carry chemical sprays without a license, but no one enforced those laws anymore. It was safer not to.

"Ghosts of New York," Dark Faith, May 2010
Awards: 2010 Nebula Nominee
Reprinted in Apex Magazine
Podcasted at PodCastle, April 19, 2011 (direct link)

Poets and sages like to say that there is clarity in certain death. That a calm resignation settles over the nearly deceased, and they embrace the inevitability of the end of life with dignity and grace. But there was no clarity for her, no calmness, no life flashing before her eyes in a montage of joys and regrets. There was just pure animal terror, screams torn from her throat as she plummeted towards the ground in the longest ten seconds of her life.

"Headlights," Close Encounters of the Urban Kind, April 2010

"You know what? I hope they are aliens. I hope they come back and probe your sorry asses and see what worthless sacks of shit the two of you really are, and then I hope they--"

"Immortal Sin," Tales of the Unanticipated, issue 26, November 2005
Podcasted at Escape Pod, October 25, 2007 (direct link)

It's easy to dispose of a dead body when you're a doctor.
There was no way Alex could let Cassie live after she'd humiliated him so completely. He'd even divorced his wife for her, and the penance his priest had laid on him had been steep. But when he told Cassie this, she just blinked and said, "But sir, we're not even dating."

"The Kennel Club," Helix SF, issue 9, July 2008 (Transcriptase archive link)

Finding a man must have been a lot easier back before they all went native in 2021. You know, back when they were still a domesticated species.

"Last Bus," Electric Velocipede, issue 11, November 2006

She wonders how the bus is going to make it into this little space—a small walkway between the side door and the garage, the washer and dryer taking up half the available room. She wonders how the driver will see her, tucked away under the mailbox like she is. But those thoughts immediately slide back out of her head. The bus will come soon. This is the stop. The egg sticker is there. The driver will see her. This is the last bus. Soon, she'll be home.

"The Last Stand of the Elephant Man," Helix SF, issue 6, Fall 2007 (Transcriptase archive link)

A woman clad in a crisp white dress stepped into the room, holding a large looking glass in her arms. She smiled sweetly at him and said, "Why, Mr. Merrick, you're even more handsome awake. See for yourself."
     She turned the mirror towards him, and he stared at it, transfixed. His head was so smooth, so small, so...
     So normal.
     Joseph Merrick buried his perfect head in his perfect hands and wept tears of pure joy.

"MarsSickGirl," Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, issue 21, October/November 2005
(click here to read the deleted ending)
Reprinted in full in issue 22, January/February 2006

She ran her fingers through her snarled hair and started finger-combing through the tight curls to ground herself again. While she did that, she did a quick check of her braincomp's memchip to make sure it had recorded the whole dream. She just skimmed at 50% opacity—she wasn't eager to relive it on full—and it ran ghost-like across her field of vision. Yes, it was all there. She connected herself to the freenet, surfed to the Marsie dreamshare area, ignored all the ads from the dreamcorps, and uploaded it into the "Nightmares, Earth" folder using her net pseudonym of MarsSickGirl.

"Mercytanks," Helix SF, issue 4, Spring 2007 (Transcriptase archive link)

*Ship decelerating.* / Ping Tanjel? It Noriko. You noshow last night at Cooley wrap. You K? / "And in other news, three more relativity ships are due to be intercepted this week alone, which will bring the total up to one hundred ninety seven. HumaniCo is, as usual, not releasing any details, but promises a spectacular show once the travelers are settled." / MaPa's up my rack again, Tanj. You lucky nono grow like that back when. / "HumaniCo-fascism can' keep past from us! WePe demand entertainment! Right right! Rally now!" / Ping Tanj? Z'you on private feed? Body look buckysilly. / *Intercept in 230 seconds.*

"Minya's Astral Angels," The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction, Volume Three, February 2009

"Most girls grow out of their Angel phase by the time they get breasts," Mas said. "You know, when they start thinking about fucking."
     "Go away, Mas."
     "You can't fuck an Angel, darling. They have nothing to fuck. And they certainly won't give you babies. I was pregnant with your oldest sister at your age, you know."

"Organ Nell," Apex Magazine, December 2, 2008

Richard Forrest, Medical Ethicist: Ms. Gabrielli is a prisoner of the medical system, plain and simple. What's been done to her is a travesty. And the fact that she was convinced to consent to it only makes it worse.

"Personal Jesus," Dark Futures: Tales of Dystopic SF, to be released spring 2010

Welcome, new citizen of the Ecclesiastical States of America! We are proud to add you and your fellow New Yorkers to our nation. With God on our side, we will soon breach the defenses of the Godless states of California and New England and once again be one nation, under God, indivisible, from sea to shining sea!

"Sashenka Redux," Electric Velocipede, issue 14, May 2008

Sashenka desperately wanted to live.
At least, this copy of her did.

"Songs of Lament," Unwelcome Bodies, February 2008

The procedure worked, Steve. They played me a tape of blue whale songs. I understood every word.
     My god, it's horrible.

"Snow Day," Strange Horizons, March 10, 2003 (direct link)
 Podcasted at Escape Pod, June 9, 2005 (direct link)

I shuffled into the kitchen where my AndroGolem5000 (I call him Max) was making waffles for me. He looked just like a real man, only he was clean, he had no beer gut, his clothes were immaculately pressed, he was soft to the touch, and he was shiny silver from head to toe. He was also completely expressionless, which I suppose was a check in the "real man" column. I hadn't bothered shelling out for the emotion upgrade. I'd heard it was buggy. Laughing-at-funerals kind of buggy.

"Team Player," The Writer's Hood, August 2002

"Damned right I didn't attend," Olivia spat. "I don't do danger. It's dangerous. That's why they call it danger. But then you put Sylvia in the hospital with that pie-eating contest." She flung her arm out in Sylvia's direction. "She's diabetic, for Christ's sake!"

"...That Has Such People in It," Apex Magazine, July 6, 2009

When you voluntarily walked underground, you had no idea how long you’d be there. People said you were crazy for doing it, but you’d been called crazy, and worse, for years.

"'Til Death Do Us Part," Shock Totem, issue 1, July 2009

She bleats a name. It was his name once. She blubbers something about love.

"Wedding Day," Neo-Opsis, issue 11, Spring 2007

Addie plucks at the fragile lace trimming the neckline of her white satin dress. This is the dress her own mother wore on her wedding day, and her mother before her, and her mother before her. Generations of women, stretching back beyond the horizon, all wearing this dress on this day, an unbroken chain. Some day, her daughter will wear this dress, and her daughter after that.

"What to Expect When You're Expectorating," Apex SF and Horror Digest, issue 11, Winter 2007

You should not drive, operate heavy machinery, go into the basement alone, or recite any mysterious Latin incantations until you know how Xybutol will affect you.

"When Science Fiction Clichés Go Bad," The Town Drunk, August 24, 2006 (direct link)

Zack Braveheart whipped off his spacesuit with a flourish, revealing his tanned, athletic, and completely naked physique to the Amazon Women of Planet Medea III. "And I am what you call a man." He put his hands on his hips and waited triumphantly for their awe.

"YY," Aegri Somnia: The Apex Featured Writers Anthology, December 2006

If I keep my eyes closed, then I can pretend it's just a dream. That none of it is real. That the strangled scream didn't actually jolt me awake, but simply shunted me from one nightmare to another.
     But I know this nightmare is real.

Non-Fiction

• Writing Ugly (published on the Apex Book Company blog, February 2009)
• Leave the Vomit in, or, Learning to Trust Your Voice (published in the Broadsheet, July 2008)
• Love’em and Leave’em - Confessions of a Serial Short Story Writer (published in Apex Magazine, August 2008)