Every year, Queer Sci Fi runs a one-word theme contest for 300 word flash fiction stories, and the judges choose 120 of them for an annual anthology. I've entered the contest before, and have had my entry included in the anthology, but this year I had the good fortune to win first prize! From the anthology foreword: It's hard to tell a story in just 300 words, so it’s only fair that I limit this foreword to exactly 300 words, too. This year, 312 writers took the challenge, with stories across the queer spectrum. The contest rules are simple. Submit a complete, well-written Clarity-themed 300 word sci-fi, fantasy, paranormal or horror story with LGBTQ+ characters. For our ninth year and eighth anthology, we chose the theme “Clarity.” The interpretations run from an “Aha!” moment to the bubbling laughter of water to a private, life-changing realization. There are little jokes, big surprises, and future prognostications that will make your head spin. I'm proud that this collection includes many colors of the LGBTQ+ (or QUILTBAG, if you prefer) universe—lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer, and asexual characters populate these pages—our most diverse contest yet. There's a bit of romance, too—and a number of stories solidly on the "mainstream" side. Flash fiction is short, fun, and easy to read. You may not fall in love with every story—in fact, you probably won't. But if you don't like one, just move on to the next, and you're sure to find some bite-sized morsels of ...

Thank you all for subscribing to my website! Today Shaky Shergill in the UK won the scholarship to the August 18-21 First Ten Pages Bootcamp through a random draw supervised by my husband. It feels really good to support another author this way. Onward! ...

I’m offering a full scholarship to a Writers Digest workshop. I’ve just signed with a literary agent — again. First time around was pretty disappointing. This time, though, signing with Amy Collins of Talcott Notch Literary, it already feels very much like entering the dynamic, collaborative business relationship it’s supposed to be. We’re taking action, and I’m elated at the possibilities ahead. I first made contact with Amy in March through a four-day workshop put on by Writers Digest University, called “First 10 Pages Bootcamp”, where she was one of the instructors. The workshop, which costs $200 US, seemed to be the next step in my seemingly endless agent querying efforts — after all, if I’d queried dozens and dozens and dozens of agents with my first pages and no one had shown real interest, I had to find out if there was something in those pages that triggered consistent rejection. I figured I should find out from an actual agent what the problem might be. Turns out Amy liked my first pages enough to ask for more after the workshop concluded. So now I’m celebrating my good fortune by offering a full scholarship to the next Bootcamp workshop which begins on August 18th. On August 11 someone-not-me will draw an email address at random from the list of subscribers to my website. If your name is chosen, you may not get a contract for representation out of attending, but at very least you’ll get some expert help getting your ...

It’s been a strange couple of years for all of us since I last posted: not just because of COVID, but more importantly, the profoundly destabilizing, disorienting force the pandemic has been in our culture. What do I have to show for my two-year silence? Well, without going into all the detail: life-threatening diagnoses, two life-changing surgeries for me and one for my hubby, writing a 120k word fantasy, traumatic estrangement from a beloved family member, finding a literary agent, parting ways from said agent, pulling my books from a dishonest publisher, getting said books ready for indie release, querying agents until I saw Query Tracker in my sleep, selling our house and moving, music lessons, radiation therapy, and diving into a new writing project that I’ve carried in my heart for years, and falling more deeply in love with my wonderful husband as we approach the 20-year mark in our relationship. Oh, I also have a beautifully redesigned website, thanks to Personalized Marketing, crowned by a powerful photo by Dennis Brown. The banner about nature and humanity reflects a theme which will somehow underly whatever I write from here on in: nature is bigger, smarter, and more powerful, more resourceful and more agile than humans. In baseball terms, nature always bats last, and has an unlimited number of outs. Nature will always win, and the sooner we humans accept that the better our odds of surviving the results of the environmental crisis we’ve created. Frankly, I don’t think our ...

While all of us love a good romance, I’ve come to the conclusion that we read them for different reasons. One reason is no better than another, but I’m going to suggest that it’s important for an author to be aware of what basic reason they seek to serve when setting out to write a romance. Through that authorial choice, we extend an invitation to a reader as to how we expect them to enter our story. I’m not claiming to be encyclopedic about this, (so let’s assume my list is incomplete) but I’ve identified three primary emotional invitations to a romance reader—that is, three distinctly different reasons why a reader might want to read a romance starring two men. I’ll be brief about the first two, because I want to spend more time on the third. Reader as Stand-in. The first is the most obvious—the traditional romance invitation, inherited unchanged from straight romance. This psychological structure invites the reader to enter the story through one of the main characters, and presumes that the other half of the romantic bond or pairing is considered legitimate relationship material, at least in fantasy: the powerful billionaire, the good-hearted veterinarian, the construction contractor, the youth pastor volunteering at the homeless shelter for queer youth, the geeky computer expert, the coffee shop owner, and so on. There’s a long list. If one of the main characters doesn’t represent a satisfactory fantasy partner for the reader, the reader can’t relate to the other main character ...