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"(On the writing F&SF workshop) Wanted to crow and say thanks: the first story I wrote after taking your class was my very first sale. Coincidence? nah….thanks so much."
Adelina did something she’d mocked other people for doing. She consulted a Dream Reader.
Everyone sensible knew that Dream Readers were frauds, making up stories to suit the needs they could read in their clients. Everyone’s dreams were as individual as their minds, everyone had their own internal cartography leading to entirely different parts of their brains.
But the dream had come three mornings in a row. Three mornings when she woke up with a start, fear clamping its fingers, slender as reeds, strong as iron, around her throat, her hands clenched so hard that her nails bit into the heels of her hands.
She was walking along a bridge, which narrowed further and further, so much only a single person could walk across it, then crumbled away in the middle, leaving a two foot gap. She knew a wide enough step would take her across it, but when she looked down, she saw the water, seething with toothy eels, their lanterned eyes staring up at her, waiting for her to fall.
She saw Bella far, far away, down the long road on the other side, back turned as she walked away, too far to hear Adelina calling after her. Snowflakes were falling around her, as though a cloud echoed her progress overhead, and moonlight glinted on the snow, tinting it purple and red.
A headshake, like a dog cleaning itself of rain, chased the sensation away.
Bella had vanished over the horizon. Parks lay to either side, and she knew they were Tabatian parks, but ones she’d never discovered before. The notion delighted her: she’d investigate their histories, incorporate that into her long-time project, a complete history of the city.
But which one to enter first? She hesitated.
The left-hand one held a fabulous menagerie surrounded by a high, green-painted fence. She could hear the creatures roaring and whinnying, baying and moaning and a calliope’s wheedle. Fireworks arced and popped above it.
On the right was a more sedate water-park. But it held nooks and crannies as enticing as any brightly-colored booth: serene statues had placards waiting to be deciphered, and a massive fountain in the center roiled with carp colored white and purple and red.
It came to her that the righthand side would cost her no coins, but that the menagerie would require the price of admission, so she fumbled at her belt, thinking she’d let the lack or not determine which way she went. But the coins in her pouch were unfamiliar and she was uncertain whether or not the ticket seller would accept them.
She hesitated, torn between choices.
Something was coming padding down the road towards her. A Sphinx and a Manticore, unchained, unrestrained. They walked without hurry, placid and implacable and deadly. Their mouths moved as though they were talking to each other, but they were too far to hear.
Where had Bella gone?
She looked from side to side, but something in the way they walked told her they would follow, no matter where she went.
They came so close she could smell the stink of the Manticore, hear the sound of their steps on the road. They were silent now as they came towards her”¦
Then she’d wake.
What did it mean? Because surely it must, happening three days in a row. It couldn’t just be that she’d had the same dream randomly dropped into her head three times. She’d mulled it over, standing in her office staring out over the street steaming in the warm spring rain that pattered on the patterned paper umbrellas, printed with political slogans, that everyone carried.
***
Love the world of Tabat and want to spend longer in it? Check out Hearts of Tabat, the latest Tabat novel! Or get sneak peeks, behind the scenes looks, snippets of work in progres, and more via Cat’s Patreon.
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Novellas are growing in popularity, and we want to help yours stand out.
Structurally, they can get tricky—they’re not mini-novels anymore than children are mini-adults—while still demanding full, fleshy, character arcs and immersive descriptions.
What if you could learn from professionals, while editing YOUR novella with a real-time feedback during a workshop?
Applications for this Science-fiction/Fantasy/Horror Novella Workshop
OPEN: March 21, 2024 CLOSE: MAY 15, 2024, AT 11:59:59 EST
SUBMIT: One page, single spaced, novella synopsis and the first ten pages by April 30, 2025
(The full novella is due October 15, 2025)
If you can’t use these options or need help with the application/payment process, please contact us using the “apply” address above.
Join us and work closely with:
Premee Mohamed https://premeemohamed.com/
Karen Lord https://karenlord.wordpress.com/
Tobias Buckell https://tobiasbuckell.com/
Cat Rambo https://www.catrambo.com/
Hone YOUR novella during the workshop, and leave knowing you’ve effectively incorporated new tools into your work. Selected students will be randomly sorted into cohorts of six. Each cohort will spend three days with each instructor.
PLUS: A full novella, One on One discussion with a professional
WHEN: February 7 to 21, 2026
WHERE: Oistins area, Christ Church, Barbados
Why Barbados? Karen Lord invited us, and we couldn’t say no to Barbados.
FEE: $2,500.00 US
(travel, accommodations, and food NOT included)
The Wayward Wormhole is working to secure group rates at selected hotels.
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