Recent News and Changes from Chez Rambo

I’m very pleased to announce that Tor has acquired my recent space fantasy (maybe?), as part of a three book deal, and I’ll be working with Christopher Morgan there. While I’ve had a lot of short stories published traditionally, this is the first novel to go through that, and I’m looking forward to seeing what the process is like. What is the book about? Well, I’m actually not sure of the genre but have been describing it as a banter-driven space military fantasy in which a group of ex-military turned restauranteurs get an unexpected package, just as things start exploding. I’m 40k words into the sequel.

I’m so pleased by this and blissed out to the point where I’ve been grinning all week. The book was written last October/November as part of a change in my writing routine, and if that routine pays off this well, you better believe I’m going to stick to it. So — up at 5:30 AM and off to the gym, then only writing through 11 AM. I love these characters, who are a lot of fun, and they’ve informed me they’ve got plenty of story to tell.

This does change a few things: I will not be taking new coaching clients, and the only editing projects I will be doing are ones where I really want to be doing the edit. I will still be delighted to write stories for anthologies as well as sending stuff out — I’ve been finishing up a couple of stories this week. I’m also going to be stricter about no internet till 11 AM and will be a lot more hardass about not scheduling calls or other stuff during that time.

I will still be teaching and running the Rambo Academy for Wayward Writers — I get so much inspiration from those classes that I would be sad not to do them and I do want to eventually have on-demand versions of all of my classes up there. After 2019 is over, though, I may start claiming a few more weekends for my own.

For those worried about the plight of Bella, Teo, Adelina, Sebastiano and the other Tabatians, I remain committed to being a hybrid author and I do intend to finish up the Tabat Quartet. =) If you want Tabat snippets and other creative pieces, please consider supporting my Patreon. Or encourage small press efforts by picking up one of my collections (Altered America (steampunk), Near + Far (SF), or Neither Here Nor There (fantasy)) or the Tabat novels from Wordfire Press! Otherwise, you might like to try the recent anthology that I edited, If This Goes On, from Parvus Press. Curious about how all this writing happened? Pick up my nonfiction book, Moving From Idea to Finished Draft.

I’m done with the SFWA presidency as of July 1. Those of you who remember back before that time will recall how alarmingly productive I could be when I set my mind to it. You have no idea how much is coming. =)

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News: The Fathomless Abyss

November 29, 2011

I’ve got the okay to announce this, so here you are: I’ve got a story in the upcoming Fathomless Abyss anthology and I’ll be putting out a longer work set there next year. It’s a very cool project, and I’m pleased to be part of it, along with Philip Athans, Jay Lake, J. M. McDermott, Mel Odom, Mike Resnick, and Brad Torgersen. My story’s called “A Querulous Flute of Bone,” and it’s a riff on a favorite O. Henry piece, “The Pimenta Pancakes,” from The Heart of the West.

Here’s the cover for the anthology, which will be available early next month:

Fathomless Abyss cover image — Cover art by Mats Minnhagen

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WIP: Teaser from The Bloodwarm Rain

March 6, 2014

This is the YA SF novella (?) I’m working on.

Synopsis: Stella’s life is on the unusual side, but whose isn’t nowadays, half a century after the Fall that led to this ruined landscape with its mesh of mythology and machinery? Still, being brought up as part of a troupe of circus performers wandering along the coast of the Inner Sea, going from small village to small village, sets her apart from many.

Even more alienating is the fact that she doesn’t know who her parents were. The others in the troupe deny any knowledge of them, and so Stella feels herself a stranger among them, particularly as adulthood draws near and she must figure out what her role with the circus will be.

When one of the circus elders reveal that Stella’s mother was, in fact, a circus performer, Stella must navigate feelings of betrayal, new responsibilities, and her mother’s legacy of magic-enhancing technology. When she fails to control her temper and half the circus burns down as a result, she’s ejected from the only family she’s ever known.

Accompanied by a village girl named Abacus (Abbie), the two strike inland, hoping to find the city that Stella’s father was rumored to come from. Their ingenuity and bravery are put to the test as they battle minotaurs, mutants, and other perils created by the crumbling technology of a long-gone scientific age.

When they finally come to the city, they find it deserted, much to their despair. But that night they are seized and taken to find Stella’s father, who lives far above on the space station. Abbie is slated to be the human sacrifice who will “pay” for Stella’s admission to the station, but when they find out they manage to (with great peril and suspense) flee to an abandoned lunar colony, where they come face to face with the greatest challenge of all: the aliens who created the Fall.

From the first chapter:

I’m practicing juggling again, because it’s raining outside, big fat bloodwarm drops drumming on the tent’s waxed canvas. In an hour, as the day’s light vanishes, the circus’s light will begin to flicker and shine, powered by the ancient turbine/treadmill pulled by three ponies and a servobot. Townsfolk will wander through the maze of entrance gates and aisles, hesitant and eager all at once, pockets full of silver slugs and other tradeable metal.

They’ll wander through the booths, looking at the freakshows and trying their luck at the games, winding their way towards the bigtop, ready to make their way up the creaking bleachers and sit to watch marvels unfold.

This time we’re within earshot of the ocean, a jungle-hugged glade near two different villages.

I drop a beanbag and curse. I’ve worked my way up to four at a time, but keeping five aloft continues to elude me.

Roto the Tiger Boy sticks his head in the flap in time to catch the last words. His whiskers twitch. He holds out a tin silently and I take it, gesture at him to sit on the floor. He does, closing his eyes as I start to apply the orange greasepaint that colors his dun fur, turning him from an ordinary cat-man to something more exotic.

What can I apply to myself, what will turn me into the exotic thing the circus just hasn’t realized it needs yet?

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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