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The Million Writers Award - 2012

The Million Writers Award, which is a cool award for online fiction created by Jason Sanford, is open for nominations until April 9.

If you’ve got a favorite story that appeared online this year — yours or someone else’s — go nominate it!

(And if you’re wondering what stories of mine are eligible, they include Long Enough and Just So Long, Swallowing Ghosts, Pippa’s Smiles, Love, Resurrected, Bots d’Amor, Whose Face This Is, I Do Not Know, The Immortality Game, and Zeppelin Follies.

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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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WIP: Teaser From "In My Brain Were Stored a Thousand Pictures"

Life in the new place continues pleasant; this morning it is raining, but the construction workers across the way are slicker-clad and working away doggedly. I’ve been listening to Vienna Teng’s album, Aims. Here’s one of my favorites from it:

As I listen and witness the cars passing by on California Avenue – black egieb blue yarg etihw – I’ve been working on a bespoke near future SF piece where I get to play around a bit with ideas of body augmentation, virtual life, and the access to either of them afforded by economic class. Here’s some of this morning’s writing:

Malady could understand the concept of the artificial hand and how useful it could be in this life, but she didn’t understand why they put so much emphasis on it at first.
After two weeks at University, though, she did, because here they spent most of their time in meat life and very little in mind life, even in classes. And when they went into mind life, the things they got there were like the meat hand to Malanie ““ fripperies, seldom used.

Still, even here, plenty of other ways to do things presented themselves: rather than reach your hand for food, have it come to you in a floating dish or handed to you by a helper, probably mechanical but here they even had human helpers, which was truly deeply madly odd to her way of thinking.

She said as much to her roommate Michelle. Michelle was short and peppy and purple-haired today, with turquoise stars over her cat-pupiled eyes. While her appearance changed from time to time ““ she had full mods, the best old money could buy ““ she was invariably a combination of irritated and amused at her scholarship roommate’s oddities. She said, “For gosh sakes, Mal, surely you want to do things for yourself? That’s what humans do.”

“That’s what humans do,” was one of her more frequent expressions, along with “That’s just how it is” and “That’s how they always do it.” The latter two had figured plentifully in her orientation conversations with Malady, who’d spent her flight and taxi ride in her Memory Palace and had only fully come into meat when Melanie demanded it.

Enjoy this sample of Cat’s writing and want more of it on a weekly basis, along with insights into process, recipes, photos of Taco Cat, chances to ask Cat (or Taco) questions, discounts on and news of new classes, and more? Support her on Patreon..

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Note found on my desk reads:

Note found on my desk reads: “Marxist vampire, Kantian river god.”

Not sure what story that was, but I wish I remember the impulse behind that note.

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