Fairy Fictions; San Fran Authors; Strange Apocalypses
Fairy Fictions; San Fran Authors; Strange Apocalypses
Posts
Jean Zimmerman: Inventing Around the Edges of History
Jean Zimmerman: Inventing Around the Edges of History I love historical fiction, and since I'm in the middle of developing a Regency-based "vanilla" romance story, I thought this would be perfect.
The Places It Went; Game of Attack Ads; Hip Hop Poe
The Places It Went; Game of Attack Ads; Hip Hop Poe Because I'm in a re-tweeting mood this morning, apparently...
Book Trailer of the Day: The Long Earth
Book Trailer of the Day: The Long Earth I wanted to post something because its been ages since I've worked on my blog. It's summer, and for teachers of English and Literature that usually means heavy writing time. I'm not walking away from the blog, but I do plan an overhaul soon. Til then, a little nugget to enjoy.
R.I.P. Ray Bradbury
I have to say that I resisted Science Fiction for a long time. I was a snooty fantasy, horror and contemporary fiction lover. Rocketships, space men, and robots weren't my thing. Those were for--gasp!--boys, and those things frankly didn't interest me. I thought about life on other planets, and I liked movies like Independence Day, War of the Worlds, Deep Impact, and some of the old Twilight Zone stuff, (and I'll even admit to liking Contact, even if the plot device of the alien being her dad was a tad contrived)) but I wouldn't go out and READ about them. I had a read a multitude of crappy science fiction and I quickly dismissed it as not worth my time. Until the day I discovered what Science Fiction really was about and it was on that day I discovered Ray Bradbury. We hadn't been required to read Bradbury in school, and I kept hearing about this book, Fahrenheit 451, and I figured if people were that intrigued by it, maybe there was something to it. This wa
Six Sentence Sunday
After the young man left she put up her hair with bobby pins and opened the window, letting the scant wind of the fading L.A. light brush its fingertips over her neck. Much gentler than the young man, barely out of shortpants. He couldn't have been shaving for more than a year or two. But what did it matter? When something invisible was gentler to you than a person, what could you expect out of life? She turned from the window to put her stockings back on and prepare to go back down to the dance hall, ready for the next one. You can read more Six Sentence Sunday entries here at: