For the coming year, I’d like to work more on short form writing and sf/f poetry. I want to be more intentional with my time. My big goals are to have four pieces published and query for an agent once I revise Ferals & Blights.
Speaking of published pieces…my short piece, Donkeyskin, is live in the 2017 Winter Issue of Mirror Dance along with a tiny interview. There are ten other talented writers alongside me, so please check it out and share it with your friends!
I hope you all have a safe and happy New Year! See you on the other side!
A Bit of Drink
Jackie shook Seven’s hand, and took a long pull at her beer before answering. How much to tell? She couldn’t lie since she didn’t know enough of the Cloud Realm to spin anything of substance. So, she told the truth. Well, most of it, she thought.
“I’ve never been here before. I came here by Mother’s magic.”
The look on Seven’s face helped her forget why she was drinking in the first place. It had been awhile since someone had listened to her with admiration.
“My friend and I came here looking to score. We had no idea the trouble you’ve got here.”
Seven couldn’t contain her astonishment anymore, and held up a hand to stall any further revelations from Jackie’s mouth. “Wait. Hold on. Did you say Mother’s magic? You’ve seen them? They’re alive?”
Jackie nodded over another swig of the beer. What is in this, she wondered. Eh, I’m probably better off not knowing. She could feel it bubbling to her brain, but the buzz felt good enough she didn’t care how fast she was getting drunk. Nothing mattered now. She wasn’t going to find treasures here. Ty would be Lily Quee forever, and she’d always be a thief no one wanted.
She remembered Seven had asked her a question. “Oh, I haven’t seen them. Has anyone? But, I brought a Mage with me. She’s the one who did the, you know —” Jackie waggled her fingers by her mouth in what she assumed was the universal sign for magic.
Seven had gestured to a few of the women, and they now stood in a semi-circle listening to Jackie talk. They had their arms crossed, and their feet spread hip-length apart as if ready to fight her for simply telling her story. Jackie scrunched her nose up at their hostile posture.
“Does she mean magic?” asked one.
Seven answered, “I think so. She said she came with a friend. A Mage.”
Jackie scowled at them talking as if she weren’t sitting right there. “Hello, I’m right here.”
“Where is she now?” asked Seven, directing her attention back to Jackie.
“Oh, she’s off saving the world. Your world.” She lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “With the Dawn.” She cackled quietly to herself at their knowing looks.
“And, this Mage, is your friend? She brought you here with magic?”
Jackie had come to the end of her mug, and was annoyed by their fixation on Sharna.
“Yup. Grow! she yelled. So it did, and here we are. I are. Am.” She tilted her head back to catch the very last of the beer as it slid toward her tongue, which was why she didn’t see the women nod at each other before they each grabbed a limb. Jackie fought, but she was too drunk to see straight, much less land a punch. The tankard hit the floor with a thunk. Something sour covered her nose and mouth.
She heard Grimsby hissing in her ear as she lost consciousness, “Look how she rolls around on the floor. Like a fat potato, gals. You remember potatoes?”
(Thanks for reading, and thanks for helping me through 2017!)