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Friday Link Salad 9/17/11-9/24/11

Feminism
Laura Hudson discusses The Big Sexy Problem with Superheroines and Their ‘Liberated Sexuality’ at Comics Alliance.
Melissa McEwan discusses The Terrible Bargain We Have Regretfully Struck for Shakesville.

Politics
The Elizabeth Warren Quote every American needs to see.
Bill CLinton says GOP Climate Change denial affects America’s image abroad
Kung Fu Monkey talks about why he misses Republicans

Technology
This is a really cool project based here in Seattle, Health Month. It’s making a game out of achieving your goals, getting so many points for each one met. It connects with the Fitbit, which I have and love, which also uses geeky addiction to numbers as motivation to get fit.
A tool that I’m still exploring, ifttt. Basically use if/then statements to create actions triggered by web events that come from channels such as Twitter, Facebook, Instragram, e-mail, the weather, etc.
Mark Zuckerberg appeared at the Facebook developers conference to discuss Timeline, which supplies a new appearance for Facebook.
Samuel L. Ipsum is a lively alternative to the traditional filler text, Lorem Ipsum.

Writing
Are you a spec-fic editor that needs slush readers? Drop me info in the comments so I can add you to the list I’m compiling here on Google+.
Kurt Vonnegut’s advice for short story writers

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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."

~K. Richardson

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Writing-Related Link Roundup from November 2014

Image of a feline mermaid.
If you're looking for an interesting online writing class to keep productive during December, I've got both a flash fiction and a "Moving Your Story from Idea to Draft" workshop coming up on the 20th and 21st.
Maybe not as timely as it could be, since everyone’s finishing up Nano novels, but just in case: 8 Ways to Outline a Novel on Litreactor

Some of you have two weeks left to sub to She Walks in Shadows. All woman Lovecraft antho, pays 6 cents a word (pro rate). Guidelines.

Good piece about science-fiction writer Nnedi Okarafor on BookRiot. “I came to her work at a time when the debate about a woman’s place in the world of science fiction, fantasy, and speculative fiction was getting a lot of buzz. I realized that I’d read a few of the women who’d made their mark in that realm ““ Ursula K. LeGuin, Octavia Butler, Margaret Atwood, Jo Walton- but I felt as though I hadn’t gone far enough. Okorafor’s stories have encouraged me to travel further down that path.”

Interested in a writer’s retreat? Here’s a pretty good list of them.

Ray Bradbury talks about creativity and how our motives shape our writing. On the same site, Umberto Eco talks about the pleasures of maps of imaginary places.

What happens in your head while you’re reading? Your brain on stories.

David Cronenburg is interviewed about his process of novel writing, as well as finding beauty in unlikely corners. “There are many realities we need to ignore in order to function. Whenever we’re reminded of that, however obliquely, it is very disturbing””there’s a real dissonance that’s happening there. But of course it’s part of the function of art to keep that dissonance happening.”

An article with a lot of resonance for the self-pub versus traditional publishing argument about day jobs, found via M.C.A. Hogarth.

In The Atlantic, Jeff VanderMeer talks about the uncanny power of weird fiction.

Great piece about writers and their real influences, the things that shape their writing.. “I have a theory: the thing that makes you a unique writer hasn’t got so much to do with your influences as it does with how you became a writer in the first place. I think your preferences””your obsessions””come just as much from the first sorts of things you consumed and were passionate about. Whether that’s pop music, comics, “lowbrow” fiction, soap operas, or anything else, the thing that matters most is what started you writing stories.”

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WIP: The Bloodwarm Rain, Part 3

I’m on fire! was my first thought.

Then “” some very stupid part of me bubbled up But look at how pretty the blue edges flicker “” and then panic overwhelmed me again as some lizard part of my brain scrambled to get out of the way of I’M ON FIRE.

Everyone else was doing so, and it looked as though they hadn’t lost any seconds to contemplation of the prettiness. Wren had drawn up short, ten feet away, her fists balled as she stared at me, the two new guys on either side, each with a hand on her shoulder. They exchanged glances, blinked as though surprised, and stepped back. Wren kept staring. She swallowed, and the snake tattooed along the side of her neck writhed.

The troupe is half human, half Underpeople, though June’s as human as they come. The latter hate flame, most of them, it’s hardwired in. Most of them faded towards the back of the crowd and one of the mini elephants squealed admonition in the scuffle of movement.

Roto was the only one who came forward. His eyes were wide and panicked, his lips curled back in alignment to his stiffly leaning ears, his whiskers silver lines against his dark cheeks.

He said, “Meg, what’s happening?”

It was so unfair. How was I supposed to know what was happening? I didn’t have a clue. I opened my mouth to say that, but all that came out was an agonized shriek, even though I felt no physical pain. It was just a howl of frustration and want and loneliness, all the loneliness of having the circus as my family but no one mine, no one bound to me by blood, so I never knew where I’d fit.

Something cool around my shoulders. June, wrapping me in a silvery blanket.

“I need you to take a deep breath,” she said.

I tried, but the sound kept coming out.

She laid her hand over mine. “Breathe.”

Flames danced over her skin where it touched mine. The blue fabric of her jacket began to smolder, flaring orange and sparking along the line of the hem.

Breathe.“

Nothing physical but that coolness against my back, as though the blanket were drawing the flame inside it. But in my head, something slammed down so all my consciousness went to breathing, to the act of pulling in the air, feeling it rush into me, my ribs dwelling to contain as much as possible, holding it for a beat and then releasing…

“Okay,” June said. “Okay, Meg.”

I blinked. The flames were gone, but the hem of her jacket still flared orange one last second before dying away.

“You’re tired. I’m putting you in Nursie.”

I tried to protest. Riding in Nursie was boring beyond belief. One of her settings had gone wonky and she treated everyone as though they were a six-year-old. But at the same time, I realized, it sounded so good, lying down in darkness and not thinking for a while.

Before I knew it, I was tucked in Nursie’s depths. Vanilla scented mist sprayed down around the couch.

“Now I’m going to tell you the story of the Brave Little Kitten,” she announced.

That was all right. At least it was one of the comprehensible stories. But something else caught my attention. I rolled closer to the hatch opening, trying to hear out.

Outside, June shouting.

“All right! These fellows either lair nearby or they’re affiliated with the town.”

Nursie said, “Once upon a time “””

“Wait,” I said. “Nursie, can I have a drink of water first?”

The story paused as a cup rattled into the dispenser and began to fill.

June said, “Either way, we can’t go back “” you know that as well as I “” and it’s better to make these disappear and keep moving rather than have others come look and find us with them.”

Muffled agreement. Nursie said, “Drink your water, Meg.”

I drank it as slowly as I could, but all I heard were doors slamming and engines starting again. I felt dizzy. It was hard to swallow.

Warm vanilla sprayed me again as I set the cup down.

Nursie said, “Blood pressure dropping.”

Something snaked from the ceiling towards me. I heard Nursie’s voice, as though from a very far distance. “Administering sedation.”

...

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