This is not my cat. I’m in Utah to record Writing Excuses, to speak at the Utah Valley Writers Association, and to attend LTUE. It’s a busy week, because I’m also working on a novel. Fortunately, there’s a cat.
He’s so restful, I thought I’d share.
This is not my cat. I’m in Utah to record Writing Excuses, to speak at the Utah Valley Writers Association, and to attend LTUE. It’s a busy week, because I’m also working on a novel. Fortunately, there’s a cat.
He’s so restful, I thought I’d share.
Patricia Burroughs is joining us today with her short story anthology Debris & Detritus: The Lesser Greek Gods Running Amok. Here’s the publisher’s description:
“Debris and Detritus, the lesser-known Greek gods…*
These words launched over a dozen alternate realities and histories, invaded existing universes, and even inspired a book or two with Debris and Detritus running amok through every world they touch.
With nothing else to go on, writers from various genres created deities that might or might not actually be Greek, might or might not be of any particular gender, might or might not be of this Earth but they always wreak havoc in ways that range from darkly horrific to brightly comedic.
Join in the fun, but be forewarned about reading at night. Some of these compulsively readable tales will give you nightmares, while others will have you startling the parakeet by hooting with laughter.
Debris & Detritus Unpredictable, Unbelievable, Un-put-down-able
*Writer Rhonda Eudaly cannot be held responsible for the results of those blithely spoken words. Editor Patricia Burroughs, however, might.
What’s Patricia’s favorite bit?
In retrospect, it’s as if I was in Charlie Brown’s world.
“Wah wah wah Debris and Detritus, the lesser known Greek gods wah wah wah.”
Rhonda Eudaly was reading her short story with Debris and Detritus serving as “Queer Eye for the Dead Guy” decorators who have been assigned Hades—both god and domain—to make over.
But even though I listened to her reading that night in Dallas and laughed along with everyone else in the room, I was assaulted by images of D&D, my own personal gods of rubble and refuse. The pair had taken up a somewhat malevolent residence in my office, moving boxes or flinging books into my path as I’m carefully traversing the minefield otherwise known as The Floor.
It was divinely instigated, the way the idea sizzled through the air from her lips to my brain.
“This ought to be an anthology,” I enthused. “With lots of writers, each writing their own version of Debris and Detritus.”
She seemed startled.
I got more enthusiastic. “Seriously! It could be amazing! You should do this!”
Smart woman that she is, she said “I’m not doing it, but if you want it, it’s yours. As long as my story is in the book.”
And that, dear friends, is how it began.
I, who had never published a short story, who am the least likely person to actually plan, organize, and perpetrate just about anything and have it actually happen … I had a “Mickey and Judy, let’s put on a show!” moment.
I was going to edit an anthology.
I was going to handpick writers — my mind was already gleefully building a list—and then sit back while they did all the work!
What could possibly go wrong?
Fortunately, I did enlist Diane Tarbuck of Story Spring Publishing via a quick call to her from the corridor outside the room, and she said okay, if I put it together, she’d publish it. So I knew I had ‘real editors’ who would, you know, edit.
Wait. I haven’t told you my favorite thing, you say?
This is it.
Choosing the writers to invite.
Some were screenwriters and comedy writers. Others were multi-published, newly published or never published.
The gods they created were male, female, twins, not related at all, youngsters or even made of stone. But whether they were set in London or New Orleans, on Mt. Olympus or on a faraway planet named Celta, the stories amused me, entertained me, and gave me chills.
Max Adams is a professional screenwriter and not an obvious choice to invite, some might say. But her story leads off the havoc, just so her first page will be the one to show up in the sample.
People don’t suspect sweet, blond Michelle Muenzler of hiding such darkness within. It only took her 700 words to tell her chilling tale.
Antioch Grey brings a British wit, edge, and attitude that I could wallow in all day.
I anticipated a mystery from Claire M. Johnson. The only mystery was this other side of herself she’d hidden; she gave us wretched little brats as Debris and Detritus.
Robin D. Owens has been writing romances set in her SFF Celta universe for a couple of decades. Here, she wrote a tale of rebirth and redemption (not a romance) from the point of view of a house. Yes, a house. And a guy who will end up being the hero of one of her fantasy romances down the line.
ChandaElaine Spurlock delivered exactly what I’d hoped—another London setting and more British snark. I thought this would be her first published credit. But then she turned in her bio. She’s been ghostwriting fiction for years. This is her first credit under her own name, though, and it’s clearly time to keep going.
I absolutely knew that Toni McGee Causey’s story would involve Bobbie Faye Summrall, Cajun beauty queen and walking Natural Disaster. A match made in heaven for these gods! No. Toni’s tale is set in the French Quarter and just might have… a dragon?
Irene Radford, one of my Book View Café colleagues who is multi-published in short stories and novels, gave me a downtrodden brother and sister, used and abused by their father and siblings in the pantheon. But oh, how things change…
Mark Finn returned to San Cibola, the magical city in California he co-invented in the 90s. All you fans who have been waiting for more San Cibola tales for years? You’re welcome.
MJ Butler is an award-winning comedy writer but had never been published in fiction. And yet I was certain that with his trademark humor—sometimes-absurdist, sometimes logical in the most illogical ways—he’d write a story I wanted to read. I said, “Will you?” He said, “Yes.” And he did. There are cows.
Jeanne Lyet Gassman is known for her literary novel and short stories. Wait. Romance? Romance! She wrote romance! I did not see that one coming, and what a delight it is!
Melanie Fletcher writes erotic romance with Greek gods under the pen name Nicola Cameron [Yes, really.] I might be excused for thinking I knew what to expect. Wrong! But her story in an old folk’s home in Florida was oh, so right.
I hoped that Weyodi, an enrolled member of the Comanche Nation, would fling Debris and Detritus into the middle of her. Her mind boggled. It boggled off in an entirely different direction. Her vision of deity past, present, and future is not only is provocative but also suggested a sequel, Debris & Detritus, The Lesser Greek Gods Provoking Jesus. [Well, you never know; it could happen.]
And finally… what can I say about Beth Teliho’s story that wraps up the anthology? Rhonda Eudaly quotes Ice-T, who said, “Women writers write the sickest stuff.” I’m thinking the blonder and more innocent looking the woman, the darker the story.
You know, this is where I should say something elevated like, “I strove for eclecticism in voice and idea.” But I didn’t.
I handpicked some writers who would take the concept and go in unexpected directions, the likes of which promised to amuse me.
And these writers whose voices, backgrounds, and off-kilter way of looking at the world rewarded me—and you–with an array of different tellings with nothing more than the seven simple words I gave them to work with:
Debris and Detritus, The Lesser Greek Gods.
They nailed it.
And I’m very proud.
Award-winning screenwriter & novelist Patricia Burroughs loves Pratchett, Aaronovitch, Dunnett, and Heyer. Continuing her epic YA fantasy, The Dead Shall Live, Volume Two of The Fury Triad will come out later this year. She and her husband live in Dallas, Texas.
Jacqueline Carey is joining us today with her novel Miranda and Caliban. Here’s the publisher’s description:
A lovely girl grows up in isolation where her father, a powerful magus, has spirited them to in order to keep them safe.
We all know the tale of Prospero’s quest for revenge, but what of Miranda? Or Caliban, the so-called savage Prospero chained to his will?
In this incredible retelling of the fantastical tale, Jacqueline Carey shows readers the other side of the coin—the dutiful and tenderhearted Miranda, who loves her father but is terribly lonely. And Caliban, the strange and feral boy Prospero has bewitched to serve him. The two find solace and companionship in each other as Prospero weaves his magic and dreams of revenge.
Always under Prospero’s jealous eye, Miranda and Caliban battle the dark, unknowable forces that bind them to the island even as the pangs of adolescence create a new awareness of each other and their doomed relationship.
Miranda and Caliban is bestselling fantasy author Jacqueline Carey’s gorgeous retelling of The Tempest. With hypnotic prose and a wild imagination, Carey explores the themes of twisted love and unchecked power that lie at the heart of Shakespeare’s masterpiece, while serving up a fresh take on the play’s iconic characters.
What’s Jacqueline’s favorite bit?
How do you describe the presence of absence? Because that’s my favorite bit in this book.
I’m a big art aficionado, and one of my favorite paintings is Caravaggio’s “Conversion of St. Paul.” It depicts St. Paul’s revelation on the road to Damascus, a moment of intense and profound personal transformation; and yet, the image of Paul is confined to the lowest third of the canvas. The sturdy horse from which the apostle has fallen occupies the majority of the canvas, a looming visual element that first confronts the viewer, a depiction at once beautiful, homely and mundane.
It’s an image that never ceases to inspire me, this juxtaposition of the transcendent and the commonplace.
In Shakespeare’s The Tempest, all of the magician Prospero’s plans, twelve long years in the making, lead to a moment of confrontation with the brother and liege lord who betrayed him long ago.
I chose not to depict it.
I chose not to do so because the story I’m telling isn’t Prospero’s. It’s the story of his daughter Miranda, kept in ignorance; it’s the story of Caliban, pressed into reluctant servitude. And in Shakespeare’s play, neither character has the slightest bit of agency in this situation, nor ability to affect the outcome, nor any true understanding of the circumstances that have shaped their lives.
Choosing not to portray that moment felt like a bold and risky decision to me, but the longer I considered it, the more right it felt. It happens off-stage, as it were. It exerts an inexorable pull on the fates of my protagonists; but I wanted to work within the confines of the structure of the play, and the fact of the matter is that they weren’t there. At the moment their destinies were defined, they were elsewhere.
By virtue of the medium, juxtapositions in a text narrative have to play out in a different way than in the visual arts. Time is involved, for while a viewer may take in a painting at a single glance, a reader must process what is written in a linear sequence.
The presence of absence is implied, made concrete by the contrast between what is and isn’t described.
And so while Prospero’s deep-laid plans are coming to their apotheosis, in my book, our focus is on Miranda and Caliban; the latter desperately seeking to entice allies born of happenstance to his cause, the former immersed in the mundane logistics that her father’s complicated plans engender.
Elsewhere, fates hang in the balance and are decided. Here, in the presence of a strange spell-bound prince, a dead goat sizzles and roasts on a spit, a skeptical live goat cocks its head and scratches its ear with one rear hoof, while nameless chickens mutter and peck in the dirt.
It’s my favorite bit.
Jacqueline Carey is the author of the New York Times bestselling Kushiel’s Legacy series of historical fantasy novels, The Sundering epic fantasy duology, postmodern fables “Santa Olivia” and “Saints Astray,” and the Agent of Hel contemporary fantasy series. Carey lives in western Michigan. Read an excerpt. Visit the author’s page. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook. View the book trailer here.
Kameron Hurley is joining us today with her novel The Stars are Legion. Here’s the publisher’s description:
Somewhere on the outer rim of the universe, a mass of decaying world-ships known as the Legion is traveling in the seams between the stars. For generations, a war for control of the Legion has been waged, with no clear resolution. As worlds continue to die, a desperate plan is put into motion.
Zan wakes with no memory, prisoner of a people who say they are her family. She is told she is their salvation – the only person capable of boarding the Mokshi, a world-ship with the power to leave the Legion. But Zan’s new family is not the only one desperate to gain control of the prized ship. Zan finds that she must choose sides in a genocidal campaign that will take her from the edges of the Legion’s gravity well to the very belly of the world.
Zan will soon learn that she carries the seeds of the Legion’s destruction – and its possible salvation. But can she and her ragtag band of followers survive the horrors of the Legion and its people long enough to deliver it?
In the tradition of The Fall of Hyperion and Dune, The Stars are Legion is an epic and thrilling tale about tragic love, revenge, and war as imagined by one of the genre’s most celebrated new writers.
What’s Kameron’s favorite bit?
I’ve always been a sucker for old-school science fiction “sense of wonder” stories. I love both Golden Age and New Wave science fiction that throws caution to the wind and takes you to gooey, gory, wondrous, mad, incredible new places tucked into the furthest corners of the universe. I love science fiction that is so imaginatively far in the future that it swings back around to fantasy again. The future I’m living is certainly fantastic to someone a thousand years ago. I better be similarly wowed when reading about a world set a thousand years in the future.
In my space opera, The Stars are Legion, I created a legion full of organic starships as large as worlds that lived and reproduced. I envisioned them as great creatures, and the humans inside of them – with their petty wars and civil strife and personal betrayals and love affairs and politics – were simply one part of a larger ecosystem, battling it out there the same way we do here. They are as blinded to their original purpose as humanity is here on earth, scrounging about seeking purpose while we cruise through the universe on our own world ship.
For me, the most exciting part of writing this epic standalone novel was writing the middle section, when everything we know about the worldships flips upside down, and we get to the gory and glorious part where we find out what’s been living beneath its skin. My agent initially wanted the opening to be longer. She wanted more politics from the families on the surface of the world. But for me, all that existed primarily so I could explore what was happening beneath those levels, and how different societies were battling it out for survival while the ship itself literally rotted around them. How would they survive? What would these cultures be like? And what about the vistas of the rotting ship itself?
Readers so far seem to agree that you get to the middle section of The Stars are Legion, which is when one of our characters finds themselves in the belly of the world, and you either go, “Wow! What the hell is this! It’s AMAZING!” or “What? What the hell is this? This is so weird.” I look forward to finding out how the book works for various readers, and how many get as psyched as I did to explore an organic world on the verge of revolution.
The worldbuilding in many of my novels tends to get a lot of attention. Folks wonder how it is I come up with these wild places. But for me, creating new and different environments, and seeing what parts of us are different and what parts are the same, is intensely satisfying. It’s the wonder of discovery that keeps me writing, and reading. I want to write about places I’ve never seen before, with a wild cast of characters who are both relatable and wholly alien.
I write to discover new worlds. I hope you’ll all come along for the ride.
Kameron Hurley is the author of The Stars are Legion and the essay collection The Geek Feminist Revolution, as well as the award-winning God’s War Trilogy and The Worldbreaker Saga. Hurley has won the Hugo Award, Kitschy Award, and Sydney J. Bounds Award for Best Newcomer. She was also a finalist for the Arthur C. Clarke Award, the Nebula Award, and the Gemmell Morningstar Award. Her short fiction has appeared in Popular Science Magazine, Lightspeed Magazine, and many anthologies. Hurley has also written for The Atlantic, Entertainment Weekly, The Village Voice, Bitch Magazine, and Locus Magazine. She posts regularly at KameronHurley.com.
Actually, I have two party favors for you. One of the things that fascinates me is the way you can tell the same story and, depending on the audience, it will differ wildly. Back in 2013, I wrote a story specifically for audio called Forest of Memory. I used the audio medium not just as a component of the story, but as a plot element.
The idea was that Katya Gould was telling you this story, and you were hearing her tell you and just you the story.
When Lee Harris at Tor.com asked about publishing it, I looked at the story, and it wasn’t going to work. A key component was that this story was a unique artifact. So I rewrote the entire thing, focusing on typewriters. This involved adding scenes, inserting typos and changing the diction of the piece. (By the way, intentional typos in a story make the copy-editors job oooooh so interesting. A couple of places she actually flagged that, stylistically, I should add some errors to a section.)
Here’s party favor the first — I have the manuscript for the 2013 audio version for you.
AND party favor the second…
While I was struggling with this story, I tried a technique in which you write the synopsis as if you are writing a children’s story. So, here’s the children’s story version of a Forest of Memories. (You can download the Forest of Memory children‘s thingie as a pdf.)
Forest of Memory as a children’s story
The day Katya went offline, she had only planned to buy a typewriter, a paperback book, and a stapler.
But when she rode her bicycle, with the typewriter, the paperback book, and the stapler, into the woods she saw a deer on the road. The deer saw her and stopped.
Katya thought it would be a very nice idea to take a picture of the deer, so she did. She asked her imaginary friend Lizzie to hold the picture for her, and Lizzie said she would.
While she watched the deer there was a bang and a pow and the deer fell down. Katya was not alone. She was not alone at all. There was a man on the road, with a gun. She told Lizzie to call for help.
But Lizzie didn’t answer.
All Katya had to fight the man with were the typewriter, the paperback book, and the stapler. And her bicycle. She tried to ride away, but her bicycle was too slow with the typewriter, the paperback book, and the stapler.
She left them all behind and ran into the woods, but the man found her anyway.
He shot her, the same way he shot the deear with a bang and a pow.
But Katya wasn’t dead and neither, it turned out, was the deer. The man had just put them both to sleep for a little while. He kept Katya close by his side while he hunted other deer. She wanted to run away, but didn’t know where she was. She didn’t even have the stapler.
She stayed with the man for three days. She thought he might keep her forever, but one of the deer gored the man with its horns. He was hurt very badly, and told her that she would need to call for help.
Finally, she could reach Lizzie who had been very worried about her. The police had found her bicycle, with the typewriter, the paperback book, and the stapler, but they couldn’t find Katya. She told them where she was and tried to lead them back to the man, but he was gone.
And the deer were gone.
And no one believed her.
Lara Elena Donnelly is joining us today with her novel Amberlough. Here’s the publisher’s description:
From author Lara Elena Donnelly, a debut spy thriller as a gay double-agent schemes to protect his smuggler lover during the rise of a fascist government coup
Trust no one with anything – especially in Amberlough City.
Covert agent Cyril DePaul thinks he’s good at keeping secrets, especially from Aristide Makricosta. They suit each other: Aristide turns a blind eye to Cyril’s clandestine affairs, and Cyril keeps his lover’s moonlighting job as a smuggler under wraps.
Cyril participates on a mission that leads to disastrous results, leaving smoke from various political fires smoldering throughout the city. Shielding Aristide from the expected fallout isn’t easy, though, for he refuses to let anything – not the crooked city police or the mounting rage from radical conservatives – dictate his life.
Enter streetwise Cordelia Lehane, a top dancer at the Bumble Bee Cabaret and Aristide’s runner, who could be the key to Cyril’s plans—if she can be trusted. As the twinkling lights of nightclub marquees yield to the rising flames of a fascist revolution, these three will struggle to survive using whatever means — and people — necessary. Including each other.
Combining the espionage thrills of le Carré with the allure of an alternate vintage era, Amberlough will thoroughly seduce and enthrall you.
“James Bond by way of Oscar Wilde.” —Holly Black
“Sparkling with slang, full of riotous characters, and dripping with intrigue, Amberlough is a dazzling romp through a tumultuous, ravishing world.” —Robert Jackson Bennett, winner of the Shirley Jackson Award and the Edgar Award
“An astonishing first novel!” —World Fantasy Award-winning author Ellen Kushner
What’s Lara’s favorite bit?
LARA ELENA DONNELLY
A lot of early reviews of Amberlough are calling it “shockingly timely,” pointing out the unfortunate resemblance to our current political climate, drawing comparisons to 1930s Germany. And yes, it is a political novel. It is about the dangers of fascism. It is tense and violent and dangerous, filled with amoral people making desperate decisions.
It’s also really hot.
I’m not here to talk to you about the scary parallels between my novel and the rising global influence of xenophobic populism. I’m here to talk to you about sex.
Or rather, the subtleties of writing explicit sex. Too often, these scenes reduce sex to two particular sets of parts in a straightforward mechanical act. But that’s boring, and good sex is anything but. Good sex is the whole mind and body engaged in something—anything—that brings intense pleasure. Whether that’s the whisper of breath on skin, the anticipation of a tryst or a touch, the sting of knotted hair tangled in a fist, the confidence imparted by a partner’s regard…it’s so much more than a rote specific physical act. And it’s more fun to write, the further you move from the prescribed.
I first started forming my sex scene philosophy at a Galentine’s Day party during which guests read aloud the steamy scenes from dollar store paperback romances. After a few of these, I started to notice the pacing was nearly identical. The same three acts of the same sexual encounter. The language varied (barely), but the step-by-step process and the body parts involved were exactly the same from book to book.
Ugh, mix it up! Am I right?
In reality, sex can mean and be so many different things between all kinds of different people, and still be really hot. In fiction, it should be the same. There’s the oft-repeated aphorism that sex scenes should move the story forward. People often interpret this literally–if there is fellatio, it must be plot-relevant!—but making the pivotal act of your five-act structure a carnal one isn’t quite how I interpret this advice.
Given all the things that sex can be—a power play, a drunk mistake, an expression of intense emotion, an act of desperation, a bonding experience, something to do when you’re bored, or when you think that you’re going to die—it’s almost impossible to write sex that doesn’t move the story forward. When the characters are lying there afterward, sweaty and satisfied—or not, because do not get me started on the simultaneous orgasm trope—the readers should understand something new about them and their situation.
I hope I manage that with Amberlough. There’s even plot-relevant fellatio, to satisfy the pedants.
The all-singing, all-dancing Lara Elena Donnelly is a graduate of the Alpha and Clarion writers’ workshops. Her work has appeared in venues including Strange Horizons, Escape Pod, Nightmare, and Mythic Delirium. Her debut novel, vintage-glam spy thriller Amberlough, drops on February 7, 2017 from Tor Books. A veteran of small town Ohio and the Derby City, Lara now lives in Manhattan. You can also find her online at @larazontally or laradonnelly.com.
Mur Lafferty is joining us today to talk about Bookburners. Here’s the publisher’s description:
The critically acclaimed urban fantasy about a secret team of agents that hunts down dangerous books containing deadly magic—previously released serially online by Serial Box, now available in print for the first time!
Magic is real, and hungry. It’s trapped in ancient texts and artifacts, and only a few who discover it survive to fight back. Detective Sal Brooks is a survivor. She joins a Vatican-backed black-ops anti-magic squad—Team Three of the Societas Librorum Occultorum—and together they stand between humanity and the magical apocalypse. Some call them the Bookburners. They don’t like the label.
Supernatural meets The Da Vinci Code in a fast-paced, kickass character driven novel chock-full of magic, mystery, and mayhem, written collaboratively by a team of some of the best writers working in fantasy.
What’s Mur’s favorite bit?
Bookburners was tons of fun to work on. I’d never collaborated before, and now I was thrown into a writing room, working with three very talented authors. Once we had hashed out what each episode would be about, we politely discussed and sometimes passionately claimed the episodes we wanted to write.
I’d love to tell you about all of my episodes, but one bit that I really liked crafting was the restaurant scene in Episode 4: A Sorcerer’s Apprentice. (Spoilers below.)
A bit of backstory; my dungeon master in college refused to let us play Evil characters, which I thought was unfair. I loved the concept of Lawful Evil: having a strict code you abide by, but your movements within that code can be evil. The vigilante murderer Dexter is lawful evil. He kills people with no remorse, but only certain kinds of people. Dwight Schrute from The Office is Lawful … he’s not evil, but definitely Annoying: he will make life hard for others, but he backs down without question when someone of a higher rank tells him to.
When I came up with the answer of how to fix the problem of Episode 4, how Sal and her team would handle the gluttony demon and the kitchen made of meat, at first I thought it was too simple. But kitchens run on a strange kind of “lawful” code (I called it “chaotic order” in the story) that most non-restaurant people can’t follow. It looks chaotic to an outsider, but the dishes all get out. If chaos reigns, then dishes go out with raw meat, or without sauce, or the wrong dish goes to the wrong table. Kitchens abide by rules, and over time they’ve developed their own language.
The menu is holy. The list of specials is law. Communication is vital. Break any one of these things, and the core machine that is a working kitchen begins to fall apart.
I realized that a lawful demon working with a strict setting like a kitchen would have to abide by its rules. So the commands to “86” (we’ve run out of that food, or it’s no longer on the menu) something will be obeyed. How can you disobey an 86? “I don’t care that we’re out of salmon, I’m going to make it anyway?” Nope. Everyone must abide by a call of 86.
Grace was distracting the demon and keeping it busy, but she wasn’t defeating it. Sal needed to sever the demon’s connection with the book, so she 86’d the specials list.
This episode was meant to illustrate a few things in the developing group dynamic: Sal proves her loyalty to Asanti, as does the rest of the team, eventually. Sal also shows herself to be a quick thinker among the team. Since this is an ensemble cast, people have asked me, half-joking, who the “thief” or the “brains” are – referencing the television show Leverage or a basic D&D party. But those roles don’t quite fit our characters.
I like that a lot of our characters do double-duty. Grace is the muscle, but Sal and Liam can hold their own. Intelligence-wise, Menchu is the brilliant leader, and Asanti is the researcher (alongside Liam, while one does books and the other does the Internet), but Sal takes this season to forge her own place as an innovator, the quick thinker.
Each character is layered with several skills and weaknesses. There isn’t one “hitter” or “tank” or “cleric.” As you’ll see in future episodes, the team will not always be the five of them together, and two or three people may go off and do a mission.
Sal and her background, plus her detective’s mind, keep her and the team alive in this adventure, even though it was Asanti’s reluctance to involve the team that put them in danger in the first place.
And let’s touch on Asanti. This character gets a slow introduction, seeming to be the one sitting at home in a lot of situations. I wanted to take her out on her own mission with this episode, reveal some of her past, and show her problematic view of magic and how it conflicts with the rest of the team.
Essentially, if you haven’t been stabbed with a sword, you’re more likely to consider it beautiful. Even if you know someone with missing fingers.
For the record, I don’t classify all of my characters with D&D alignments. But I’d definitely classify Asanti as Neutral Good. You’ll see why later.
Fonda Lee is joining us today with her novel Exo. Here’s the publisher’s description:
It’s been a century of peace since Earth became a colony of an alien race with far reaches into the galaxy. Some die-hard extremists still oppose alien rule on Earth, but Donovan Reyes isn’t one of them. His dad holds the prestigious position of Prime Liaison in the collaborationist government, and Donovan’s high social standing along with his exocel (a remarkable alien technology fused to his body) guarantee him a bright future in the security forces. That is, until a routine patrol goes awry and Donovan’s abducted by the human revolutionary group Sapience, determined to end alien control.
When Sapience realizes whose son Donovan is, they think they’ve found the ultimate bargaining chip . But the Prime Liaison doesn’t negotiate with terrorists, not even for his own son. Left in the hands of terrorists who have more uses for him dead than alive, the fate of Earth rests on Donovan’s survival. Because if Sapience kills him, it could spark another galactic war. And Earth didn’t win the last one . . .
What’s Fonda’s favorite bit?
One of the things I enjoy the most about writing science fiction and fantasy is inventing words for things that don’t exist in real life. My YA sci-fi novel, Exo releases from Scholastic Press this week and my favorite word in the entire book is one that I made up: panotin.
In the world of Exo, certain humans have adopted alien biotechnology that gives them an organic body armor that they can manipulate at will. I imagined this super tough but pliable alien material would have a woven texture made out of many threads of some substance stronger than spider silk. I needed to give a name to this stuff that made it sound like a pseudo-natural part of the human body and evoked the image and ideas I was going for.
I took inspiration from an existing word: keratin. Keratin is the fibrous structural protein found widely in many living creatures. It makes up the outer layer of human skin and is the key component of hair and nails. It forms the horns, claws, and hooves of mammals, the scales and shells of reptiles, the beaks and claws of birds. The word keratin is derived from the Greek word kéras meaning horn, and the –in suffix, denoting a chemical compound.
From there, it wasn’t a far leap for me to come up with my own Greek-derived word to serve my story needs. The special substance I’d imagined would function as built-in body armor, so I turned to Google Translate and found that the Greek word for armor is panoplía. A little more Internet searching told me that the Greek name Panos means ‘rock.’ Perfect!
“Panotin” was exactly the made-up term I needed for my story. There was one final thing I had to do: Google it make sure it wasn’t already a real word in another language or the brand name of some company or product I’d never heard of. Thankfully, a Google search turned up only a few Facebook and Tumblr accounts from people with unusual surnames. I was good to go!
Like most SFF writers, I’ve made up plenty of words and names for my futuristic and fantasy worlds, and it’s a part of the process that seems small in the grand scheme of storytelling but that I find both vital and incredibly fun. In Exo, the actual armor system (comprised of panotin) is called an “exocel,” a word that sounds like “exoskeleton” but also “cellular.” I imagined the alien race in my story having a musical language with many strumming and whistling sounds, so I named them the “zhree,” and their key unit of social structure is the “erze.” I wanted to create more distinguishing differences between the humans who collaborate with the zhree and those that don’t, so I decided the aliens would prefer unique human names that they could translate into longer, more easily remembered strings of notes in their own language, hence: Donovan, Thaddus, Tamaravick, Leonidas, and my favorite, Vercingetorix. The humans who weren’t part of this system, the ones who oppose alien governance, had names like Saul, Kevin, and Max.
(I must pause to mention my favorite word from my first novel, Zeroboxer. It’s “brandhelm.” I love this word. It conveys the precise meaning I intended, and is so much more elegant a title than something like, “personal marketing manager.” In fact, why isn’t it a word already?)
Creating words is a creative exercise that must nevertheless grounded in logic. Words and names have origins and their sounds evoke connotations. When done properly, the reader accepts these skillfully invented words into story usage with barely a second thought and little reflection upon the work and deliberation the author invested in their creation. I’m quite certain that no one (or very few people) will ever question me about the origin or logic behind the “panotin” but the word makes me smile every time I see it in the pages of my book.
Fonda Lee is the award-winning author of young adult science fiction novels Zeroboxer (Flux), which was an Andre Norton finalist, and Exo (Scholastic), a 2017 Junior Library Guild Selection. She is a recovering corporate strategist, a black belt martial artist, and an action movie aficionado. She loves a good Eggs Benedict. Born and raised in Calgary, Fonda now lives in Portland, Oregon with her family. She can be found online at www.fondalee.com and on Twitter @fondajlee.
Watts Martin is joining us today with his novel Kismet. Here’s the publisher’s description:
The River: a hodgepodge of arcologies and platforms in a band around Ceres full of dreamers, utopians, corporatists and transformed humans, from those with simple biomods to the exotic alien xenos and the totemics, remade with animal aspects. Gail Simmons, an itinerant salvor living aboard her ship Kismet, has docked everywhere totemics like her are welcome…and a few places they’re not.
But when she’s accused of stealing a databox from a mysterious wreck, Gail lands in the crosshairs of corporations, governments and anti-totemic terrorists. Finding the real thieves is the easy part. To get her life back, Gail will have to face her past and what’s at stake may be more than just her future.
What’s Watts’s favorite bit?
A few years back, I didn’t have a novel. I had a muddle of ideas, a main character I was in love with, and a disjointed plot that could maybe stretch into a novella. Even so, it got me into an intensive SF novel writing workshop at the University of Kansas.
Among the notes I scribbled during sessions was this suggestion: one of my story’s motifs was “embodiment.” It wasn’t until I got home that I stopped, read that a few times, and thought: wait, what the hell does that mean?
In the future of Kismet, some humans are “transform,” visibly bioengineered in some fashion. A subset are “totemics,” adapting animal aspects ranging from (relatively) subtle tweaks like ears and tails to full-body makeovers. Totemics are a minority even on “The River,” a section of frontier space around Ceres. But in a solar system with a population of ten or eleven billion, that’s still in the millions.
Okay: so what do totemics embody? Animal and human. Technology and nature. A radical, extreme statement that the future lies in unification rather than dominion. At least, that’s the answer Mara, the original totemic, would give. But someone else might have a different answer: spiritual belief, xenophiliac aesthetics, a sense you’re more you when your nature isn’t the one you came into the world with. Gail, the book’s protagonist, would wryly add, “Because your transform parents wanted a transform kid.” She’s comfortable looking like a rat, but it’s not like she aspired to it.
There’s a scene near the middle of Kismet when two side characters discuss Mara’s dream—and the dream of many totemics, including Gail’s mother and sister—of transformations becoming inheritable, a goal that’s always stayed just out of reach. Gail’s adopted (and estranged) sister Sky, like their mother, remains deeply committed to that hope. But her friend Ansel, another totemic, shocks Sky by taking a fierce stand against it. On the surface, their disagreement is political, the more libertarian Ansel offended by Sky’s socialism. But there’s more to it than that. “Totemics have gotten along fine since before The River existed,” he argues. “We’ll keep getting along just fine choosing whether to transform ourselves or our children.”
What I love about this exchange is that their debate is both universal and unique to a science fiction context. There are parallels to our world and time, but transform and cisform don’t quite map to transgender and cisgender, let alone race, orientation or religion. Yet that debate in their society hinges on what makes identity so complicated. It’s a mix of what we’re assigned through the circumstances of our birth and what we choose. We embrace parts of the identity we came into the world with and reject others. We choose new elements for our identity, adding new bits, filling holes, and when we must, making drastic changes. If the goal of inheritable transformation arrives for the totemics, they’ll gain something immeasurable—at the cost of shifting a core part of their identity from choice to assignment.
I hadn’t realized their exchange was about the story’s underlying theme until well after I’d written it. But your characters often know more about your story than you do, don’t they? I didn’t know what “embodiment” meant at first. Ansel and Sky—and Gail—got it immediately.
A small confession: it’s tough to point to this one exchange and say it’s my absolute favorite bit from the story. The novel is, after all, about Gail, not Ansel or Sky. But this moment turns out not to only be a reflection of the story’s theme, but a signpost for Gail’s own journey. Until the morning this conversation takes place, her real interest had been getting back to a life of minimal responsibility. But as she comes to terms with her mother’s death—and her complicated relationship with Sky—she’s realizing she has big choices to make. And, even though she doesn’t see it yet, she’s already started making them.
Watts Martin is the author of several fantasy novellas including Cóyotl Award winner Indigo Rain and nominee Going Concerns, and a host of short stories in small press anthologies including Inhuman Acts, Five Fortunes and The Furry Future. Watts grew up around Tampa Bay, Florida, and now lives in Silicon Valley, primarily working as a technical writer.
Tim Lees is joining us today with his novel Steal the Lightning. Here’s the publisher’s description:
In the newest Field Ops adventure, god hunter Chris Copeland must track down an enigmatic figure distributing shards of deities to unwitting citizens across the country
Chris Copeland has a bizarre job, seeking out gods to convert into energy, but when he’s tasked with retrieving a deity from an elderly woman in New York, he’s truly out of his element. Before he can learn who sold her the dangerous object, she swallows a piece of it and goes into painful convulsions in front of his eyes.
Calling himself Johnny Appleseed, an elusive man has stolen fragments of gods and is traversing the country, peddling the contraband as a miracle cure to anyone desperate enough to believe him. With the help of his colleague, Angel, and a documentary filmmaker intent on exposing the Registry’s secrets, Chris must chase down the culprit and recover the stolen gods before all hell breaks loose.
What’s Tim’s favorite bit?
I have a new book out from HarperVoyager. It’s called Steal the Lightning, and it’s set in a world a lot like this one, except that there, the ancient gods remain, buried at sacred sites around the globe. Given the right equipment, you can dig them up, break them down, and use their energy to power anything from heavy industry to a household toaster. Chances are, in that world, you’d be reading this on a god-powered screen – which means that maybe, just maybe, the gods would be reading you, in turn.
To most people, they’re a fuel resource, a substitute for coal, oil, and nuclear power. But gods are gods, and in their raw form, have a powerful pull upon the human mind. They’re dangerous. They change the way we see the world. Sometimes, they change the world itself. So when someone starts dispensing chunks of pure god-stuff in towns across the USA, professional god hunter Chris Copeland is called in to track down the perpetrator – and try, if he can, to minimize the damage.
Now, I’m a Brit, and the prospect of an American odyssey has always excited me. I never fully recovered from reading On the Road, and even a trip to the shops can assume an almost Kerouacian dimension when I’m in the mood. In this novel, I’m mostly taking back roads, from New York, through the Midwest, ending up in Vegas. Which is where my problems really began – as a writer, anyway.
The gods make places strange. Simply the presence of a god will generate all kinds of bizarre phenomena – and how do you make a place like Vegas any weirder?
Well, it took a while, but I did it. (Let’s just say, if you’re ever on the Strip and somebody suggests a spot named Second Eden, you should walk very, very quickly in the opposite direction, OK?)
So there, amid ghosts, gods, and a gambling hall that, win or lose, will literally suck you dry, I came to my favorite bit. The hero meets the bad guy. I love these scenes, and I don’t do them as confrontations. I think I’ve met a few genuinely bad people in my time, and there’s a common theme running through all of them: the bad guy doesn’t think that he’s the bad guy. Forget the trail of casualties lying in his wake. He’ll tell you, that’s not his fault. They deserved it. Or they knew the risks. Or even, he tried to warn them. He’ll tell you how he’s the victim here, not them. He’ll tell you how he’s suffered, but he had to take control, since no-one else would do it. He might be sad, self-pitying. He might be boastful, describe himself as “strong”, “entrepreneurial”, or whatever current buzz-word fits the bill, when actually he’s ruthless, self-centered, solipsistic and destructive. If he’s socially respectable, he’ll cast himself as a philanthropist, a wolf in saints’ clothing, furiously staking out the moral high ground while chasing his own gains. There’s a tremendous sense of privilege about it all, an exceptionalism that justifies whatever he does: “I’m allowed to act like this because…” Picture a small boy trying to talk his way out of trouble, then age him by twenty, thirty, forty years. That’s our guy.
In this instance, his name is Johnny Appleseed, and for a notion what he’s up to, imagine your local crack dealer telling you he’s really doing vital scientific work, for which he expects great acclaim and reward in the near future. And yes, true, there might have been a few deaths here and there – he doesn’t quite remember who, but he’s sure they knew what they were getting into, and it was nobody important, anyway. And the benefits are going to be amazing. And it’s his achievement! Far from being the villain, he’s actually a pretty great guy, isn’t he?
Well, my job as a writer is to get inside this man’s head, give him some really good arguments, make him sympathetic, plausible – even likeable, for a while. Then show that, despite all that, he’s still a scumbag, through and through.
So I wrote the scenes. I liked them. It’s probably some horrible, perverse streak in my character, but I enjoy trying to see the world through the bad guy’s eyes, a world in which he’s invariably the center, the only person anywhere who really counts.
Then I realized: I had a problem.
There needs to be a rhythm to a book like this. It’s a thriller, after all, and quiet scenes have to be broken up with action, and plenty of it. Here, though, I’d let myself get carried away: chapter after chapter of dialog, argument, and just a few small, creepy things going on around the edges.
That wasn’t going to work.
So I went back, to the point where the hero is sitting in a casino bar, waiting for the bad guy to appear.
I’ve had times like this before, when I know where a story has to go but not how to get it there; when the present scene feels flat and ordinary, and needs a good kick to get it moving. And I always ask myself, “What’s the last thing you’d expect to happen here?”
And that, I think, is my second favorite bit: throwing in a wild card, sending the whole book off in a completely unanticipated direction, so that even I don’t know where we’re going to end up.
In my view, that’s where the fun really starts.
Tim Lees is a British author living in Chicago. His short fiction has appeared in Interzone, Black Static, Great Jones Street and elsewhere. He is the author of Frankenstein’s Prescription (Tartarus Press), and the Field Ops novels, The God Hunter and Devil in the Wires (HarperVoyager). All books can be read as stand-alones. When not writing, he has held a variety of jobs, including film extra, teacher, conference organizer, and worker in a psychiatric hospital. He has a website at www.timlees.wordpress.com (when he has time to update it), tweets as @TimLees2, and holds an Instagram account as tim.c.lees.
Laura Anne Gilman is joining us today with her novel The Cold Eye. Here’s the publisher’s description:
In the anticipated sequel to Silver on the Road, Isobel is riding circuit through the Territory as the Devil’s Left Hand. But when she responds to a natural disaster, she learns the limits of her power and the growing danger of something mysterious that is threatening not just her life, but the whole Territory.
Isobel is the left hand of the old man of the Territory, the Boss—better known as the Devil. Along with her mentor, Gabriel, she is traveling circuit through Flood to represent the power of the Devil and uphold the agreement he made with the people to protect them. Here in the Territory, magic exists—sometimes wild and perilous.
But there is a growing danger in the bones of the land that is killing livestock, threatening souls, and weakening the power of magic. In the next installment of the Devil’s West series, Isobel and Gabriel are in over their heads as they find what’s happening and try to stop the people behind it before it unravels the Territory.
What’s Laura Anne’s favorite bit?
LAURA ANNE GILMAN
Trying to choose a single ‘favorite’ bit from the Devil’s West books is a bit like trying to remember your favorite moment from summer camp: after a while, it’s all tied up in multiple strands of memory and experience. Trying to separate it out and explain it is…well, it can get messy. But in the case of THE COLD EYE, there was one moment that, every time I look back at it, my breath catches and I’m filled with the reminder of this is it, this is why I write.
The setting is this: Isobel – one of our protagonists- unexpectedly encounters a slaughter of buffalo, left to rot on the plains.
She’s horrified – not because they were killed, but because it was done wastefully. Whoever did it took trophies, but left the meat behind. Clearly, whoever killed them was not doing it for survival, but some darker motive.
Researching this particular scene was painful, because it involved taking a long, careful look at what actually happened when these beasts became trophy kills, including incredibly depressing photos. They were killed for ego, yes, but also to take them away from those who did hunt them for survival.
And, having spent some time observing the herds of buffalo (okay, American Bison for the nitpickers) in Yellowstone, trying to imagine what it was like when herds far larger than that ranged freely, and knowing I will never see that sight, is infuriating.
And yet, this was my favorite bit to write.
Because I did get to spend time observing buffalo, who – like moose – are amazing, majestic, massive beasts. Seriously, watch a buffalo cow and her calf pass barely two feet in front of your car, and you will reconsider everything you ever thought about size, power, and the superiority of standing on two legs. I can see where for some people that might be terrifying, but I actually found it quite freeing.
And I was able to bring that emotion into the scene with Isobel, that sense of what buffalo mean in context of the Territory. It’s a painfully gorgeous scene, because it invokes the weight of both that moment for Isobel and the echo of what they meant in our own history. And, the writer says shamelessly, I think I did it really well.
But that wasn’t quite enough to bump it up to “favorite over all” status. It’s what happens in that scene that made gave it that extra push. Because while Isobel is dealing with the slaughter, the payment that she makes to settle their ghosts, a decision has to be made about what she will do about it. And the decision happens in such a seemingly inevitable way, Isobel herself doesn’t realize the significance of it, even as it establishes who – and what – she has become, and who she may have to become, later in the book.
That decision? Hadn’t been in the outline. It rose strictly from the emotion of the scene, the sense of inevitability and pain evoked by the description. And just as there was no marker around the spot, no warnings for her, or for the reader, it came as just as much a surprise for the writer, who didn’t realize until many chapters later what I had done.
Well-played, lizard brain. Well-played.
And that’s why it’s my favorite bit. Because I wrote my heart out – and my writing-heart gave back twofold.
Laura Anne Gilman is the Nebula- and Endeavor-award nominated author of two novels of the Devil’s West, SILVER ON THE ROAD and THE COLD EYE (January 2017), and the short story collection DARKLY HUMAN, as well as the long-running Cosa Nostradamus urban fantasy multi-series (Retrievers, PSI, and Sylvan Investigations), and the “Vineart War” epic fantasy trilogy.
Under the name L.A. Kornetsky, she also wrote the Seattle-based “Gin & Tonic” mysteries.
A former New Yorker, she currently lives outside of Seattle, WA with two cats and many deadlines. More information and updates can be found at www.lauraannegilman.net, or follower her on Twitter as @LAGilman
Well, this is awkward… But here’s the thing. When I decided to throw my hat into the ring for SFWA president, I thought Cat Rambo wasn’t running again. I think contested elections are good, because it allows members to make decisions about the direction an organization is headed. Cat and I?
The fact is that she and I are politically aligned on where SFWA should be heading. We’re both interested in keeping things moving in a more inclusive and supportive direction. She’d already created a committee to start looking at getting health insurance for SFWA members, headed by board member Sarah Pinsker.
She’s the one who has been driving the changes to the Nebula Conference.
So… After a good deal of conversation, I realized that if I signed up to be on the health insurance committee and keep doing the programming for the Nebula Conference, that it allows me to focus my full attention on both of those things, while leaving Cat to handle the board and all the minutiae of making the organization run.
I say after a good deal of conversation, but in reality, I knew this the moment that I realized Cat was running again. It was just the week of Christmas and I knew no one was online, so I waited.
For me, this is already a win because — dang — I’ve been on the board and know how hard those folks work. And knowing that the board is already committed to the things that I want to see happen? Knowing that Cat is there advocating and managing? Best of both worlds.
So, I will not be running for president of SFWA, although I will get to work on all my platform objectives. But in 2019?
See you then…
I’ve withdrawn from the race, because I didn’t realize Cat Rambo was running again. Whoops!
Dear SFWA members:
I’m running for the position of President. For four years, I was privileged to work with an extremely active and committed board, first as Secretary of SFWA and then as Vice President. I stepped down because I believe that new voices are vital to a service organization such as SFWA. But there are still things that I want to see accomplished, particularly trying to find affordable health care for our members. I feel that after five years off the board, the time is right to run again.
I believe that SFWA is an important organization and that volunteering for it is a way that we can each help to pay it forward by making the field stronger. As a group we can improve things within the industry in ways that individuals cannot, but we are dependent on our volunteers. We are dependent on you. I would very much like to help SFWA move forward so that it can continue to inform, support, promote, defend and advocate for our members.
Besides health insurance, what else am I interested in accomplishing?
For those of you that I have not yet met, here is a little about me personally.
Thank you for your consideration.
Mary Robinette Kowal
This really is hypothetical and not in the “secretly I have a deal” way we often use it. I’ve just been thinking about stage and theater and the adaptation of work to different media. The scripts I’ve written have largely been adaptations. All of them are a good fifteen+ years in my past, and before I started writing fiction seriously.
I was thinking about playing around with adapting one of my shorter works for stage mostly as a way to experiment. A lot of what I know about dialogue and pacing comes from translating my experience on stage to the written page. I’m curious to see what I’d learn if I go the other direction.
So… of my non-novel work, what would you like to see on stage. And why? <–What I really mean here, is what images/moments stick with you?
(Trivia: Shades of Milk and Honey started as a piece of flash fiction, that I then began expanding for a radio serial, before finally deciding that a visually based magic system was a poor choice for an audio medium)
Jaym Gates is joining us today with her anthology Upside Down. Here’s the publisher’s description:
Upside Down: Inverted Tropes in Storytelling is an anthology of short stories, poetry, and essays edited by Monica Valentinelli and Jaym Gates. Over two dozen authors, ranging from NYT-bestsellers and award winners to debut writers, chose a tired trope or cliche to challenge and surprise readers through their work.
Read stories inspired by tropes such as the Chainmaille Bikini, Love at First Sight, Damsels in Distress, Yellow Peril, The Black Man Dies First, The Villain Had a Crappy Childhood, The Singularity Will Cause the Apocalypse, and many more…then discover what these tropes mean to each author to find out what inspired them.
Join Maurice Broaddus, Adam Troy-Castro, Delilah S. Dawson, Shanna Germain, Sara M. Harvey, John Hornor Jacobs, Rahul Kanakia, Alethea Kontis, Valya Dudycz Lupescu, Haralmbi Markov, Sunil Patel, Kat Richardson, Nisi Shawl, Ferrett Steinmetz, Anton Strout, Michael Underwood, Alyssa Wong and many other authors as they take well-worn tropes and cliches and flip them upside down.
What’s Jaym’s favorite bit?
Anthologies, and more specifically the editing of anthologies, are my catnip. I got my start completely by accident, and found myself addicted after that first one. They’ve treated me well in turn, for the most part, but every now and again I wonder why anthologies, and why do I keep coming back? It’s certainly not for the money or the fame!
Instead, I think my favorite bit is the thrill of discovery. I’ve done anthologies where everything was from the slush pile, and anthologies where everyone was invited, and everything in between. I love my invited authors, and the slush pile certainly has its horrors, but there’s nothing like the feeling of opening up a submission and realizing that you’ve hit pay dirt.
Some of my all-time favorite stories have come from the slush pile. Many were from first-time authors who were afraid to submit because they didn’t think they were ready yet. Others were from authors I hadn’t encountered before, and some I didn’t think would be interested in that particular genre but who’d had a great idea. Some of the stories required heavy editing, others, almost no editing at all.
Slush piles are intimidating. For a recent anthology, Genius Loci, I had over 900,000 words of submissions. War Stories was at about 700,000 words of submissions. Sometimes, in the depths of the slush pile, reading through something that is the complete opposite of all my project guidelines, I think maybe I should just do invite-only from here on out. But those stories that jump out of the slush and latch on keep me excited. We could only take 90,000-110,000 for those books, and we invariably ended up putting two to three times that number on the “But I Really Want This” list. That’s a pretty good ratio. There’s a lot of amazing talent out there.
It’s validating, too. Sometimes being an editor feels futile. All I’m doing is putting together stories that other people have written. It can feel invisible, and sometimes frustrating, because I’ll never do an anthology that pleases everyone. When I find a story in the slush that’s made the rounds elsewhere, or that’s special to the author in some way, it helps me reconnect to my own passion for the task and the project.
It’s even more fun when we start editing a story that’s aaaaaalmost there, but not quite. I love figuring out what the author’s ideal version of a story is, and helping them polish the story until it reaches that ideal. It helps me with my own writing, too, because I have to be able to put away the rose-colored glasses and cut away everything that isn’t essential to this particular story.
Okay, maybe I have more than one favorite bit, and maybe neither of those things is really small enough to be called a ‘bit’…but I think that’s forgivable. But seriously, be a slush reader for a while, if you have the time. I think you’ll see what I’m talking about the first time you see a story you found in slush go out into the wide world.
Jaym Gates got her start in editing by making a joke on Twitter six years ago. At the time of writing this bio, she’s working on her 15th anthology. The titles include RIGOR AMORTIS, BROKEN TIME BLUES, WAR STORIES, GEEK LOVE, GENIUS LOCI, STRANGE CALIFORNIA, UPSIDE DOWN, INVISIBLE WOMEN, LEGENDS OF STRATEGY: HOW STAR WARS EXPLAINS FUTURE STRATEGY, ECLIPSE PHASE: AFTER THE FALL, EXALTED: TALES FROM THE AGE OF SORROWS, and VAMPIRE: ENDLESS AGES. She is also a developmental editor for Falstaff Books, and lead editor for the BROKEN CITIES shared-world setting.
In her spare time, Jaym trains and rides horses, collects tea, practices a martial art called Systema, and writes. You can find her on Twitter at @JaymGates. Her website is www.jaymgates.com