"Good reflexes," Hazard thought: "just the sort Sarge appreciated when the brain behind them could keep up."
A slender girl was silhouetted in the doorway against the early light.
He checked his Kruger in its holster. It felt good in his grip. 'No', he told himself. 'Not just yet. Not yet.'
A brilliant light threw their shadows against the far wall and vanished. The office and its contents were gone.
It only occurred to me this week, some few days after I opened the Stories shelf with The Bestiary and The Legend of Gnat Bunker what those two pieces have in common. They are not merely "creative" but meta-creative. They're about how we create what we do, and in a deeper sense, why.
Check back each week for new stories!
He was back on Geiger Seven and his right hand was cold—so cold like the night after Doublenight. Where was the Sarge?
Jumpgates! They were the foundation of history. The WorldCity itself ...
Nat took another drink and began another tale...
It was a slow day in 1871...
Let me tell you about last Saturday. On Saturday I was in my studio again, trying to sketch a dragon...
Every writer seems to have a backlog of drafts, discarded manuscripts, and unfinished tales that may never see daylight outside of his own notebooks, or might be finished in memoriam by his executors, often with mixed results. Dickens never finished Edwin Drood, nor did Raymond Chandler get more than a few chapters into Poodle Springs,… Continue reading Stories WIP and Unfinished
This is a re-posting of a list I hung on my old Blogspot page in 2011. I launch this blog with a list of songs not to play upon particular occasions. Of course, the AHA research saying that a 103-beat/minute rhythm is ideal for hands-only CPR—then pointing out that it's the precise beat of both… Continue reading Stop Playing My Song!
This is a blog of, from, and occasionally about the undomesticated mind of one Josh Griffing, an artist and would-be SF/F writer with more book-learning than sense and the opinions to match.