Five Ways
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Teaser from the Current WIP

(Honestly, I have no idea what this thing’s title is anymore. But I’ve been working on the beginning today. Some of you will recognize the pov character as the gladiator Bella Kanto, although this is the first time I’ve tried first person with her. I like it. Anyhow, here you go.)

A blade straight through the air. Sidelong, slicing the snowy air in half.

Roll back on the heels, keeping the spine straight. Distance doesn’t matter, as long as steel isn’t colliding with eyeball, even if it’s close enough to brush an eyelash free.

Step step back, shift weight inside that left greave. Use the little shield, shaped like a snowflake, just as intricate. So easy to snag a blade with it, but I have to be careful with that, The shield’s just as prone to being broken as breaking, maybe even more if the blade were thick. I’ve done that more than once, Last year it snapped lucky, sent a blade flying up into Spring’s face, almost put her eye out, left a nasty gash the width of my little finger away from the orb.

Snow crunch underfoot from the still falling snow. My day, solid winter. The season of my power. The reason I wear Winter’s armor, crystal and steel against Spring’s gaudier garb, all spring blossoms in yellow and pink and blue. Like fighting a flowerbed.

No wonder I’d won for the last twenty-four years against that gaudy thing, no matter who inhabited it each year. Winter’s lines were clear and sharp and swift. The floral armor was heavier, with its lines of gold mesh over the pearly surface.

Click click click, blades testing each other. Meanwhile my arm comes out, rotates just a little to snare her swordpoint, swivels and snaps back in place, while my blade pushes forward at the same time. Don’t give her a moment to breathe, no time to think, press in fierce and hot and ardent as a yearling bull.

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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"(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."

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Post WorldCon: Happy Daze

It’s the day after the last day of Chicon 7, and I have caught up a little on sleep. I had one of the best times I’ve ever had at a convention, and the book launch party went (IMO) swimmingly. Lots of people showed up, people really loved the jewelry and the stickers, and everyone seems to think the book design almost as cool as I do.

Some people who helped make it the most awesome of cons were: Al Bogdan, who’s provided some lovely party pics; the enigmatic Folly Blaine/Christy Johnson, who is always good con company; Randy Henderson, who pitched in when needed and also kept everyone from taking things too seriously; Stina Leicht, whose book And Blue Skies From Pain was also being promoted at the party and who was an excellent co-host as well as providing a vicarious experience of being on the ballot 😉 ; Vicki Saunders, who trekked and fiddled and above all, kept me from stressing (too much); Dallas Taylor, bartender extraordinaire and always, always, always Tod McCoy for being one of the prime instigators of all this madness.

Various highlights:

  1. Watching the Hugo Awards from the bar with Folly Blaine, Gio Clairval, and Tod McCoy and supplying what John Scalzi was saying since we didn’t have any sound.
  2. Lovely lunch with Kay Kenyon and all too brief Louise Marley time.
  3. Several people thanking me for personalized rejections from Fantasy, and one young man saying that rejection was one of the reasons why he was still writing.
  4. As always, meeting many people I knew from correspondence or social networking and getting a chance to put faces and voices to the icons and screen names. Two I was particularly excited to meet were Gio Clairval and Jay Caselberg.
  5. Getting to squee like a fangirl upon meeting Sharon Shinn.
  6. A stint at the SFWA table and getting to stroke Catherine Lundoff’s lovely book cover for Silver Moon, which is a kickass novel about menopausal women turning into werewolves, which I’m downloading onto my Kindle asap.
  7. The Broud Universe Rapidfire Reading, which was jampacked with great stuff, including a closing filk song, which was about the nicest way to end a reading that I’ve seen or heard in a long time.
  8. Getting to see Rachel Swirsky in full and beautiful glitter.
  9. A lot more which is still full of happy, giddy blur, so if I’m overlooking you, it is because my memory is still aswirl. 😉

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WIP: Dr. Fantastik Part V (Final)

He’s become Dr. Fantomas, for Dr. Fantastik seemed too superhero-ish for a Tabat story. Final story came to 6650 words, and I’m pleased with it. Recent reading that may have influenced it include Anthony Trollope’s Can You Forgive Her?, John Hawkes’ The Blood Oranges, and Mary Roberts Rinehart’s Dangerous Days (free on the Kindle!).

The title of the story has become “The Ghost-Eater” as well.

Before retiring for the night, he unshuttered the window, exposing a view of the restaurant’s rear courtyard, an expanse of wrought iron tables, chained to the fence as though someone were worried that they might go walking about.

He sat upright. The moon hit the window almost as bright as witchlight when first summoned. What had called him out of sleep? Some noise in the dining room, rhythmic as hammer blows but more muted. Footsteps? Perhaps.

He put on his breeches, head tilted as he tried to listen. The noises continued, stopped, restarted.

The door opened of its own accord. Charlotte. Beckoning him to follow.

She preceded him down the hallway. There was little light in its confines, but when she opened the door to the kitchen, everything was moonlight and steel, the rims of the great soup pots shining like rounded scimitars, the rack of cleavers and knives varying from the length of his forearm to the smallest paring blade possible, the tiles of the floor like moonstones underfoot, sending up a muted dazzle that mirrored the steel’s.

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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