Tell Me

For my 150th “Tell Me” blog post, Joseph Brassey tells me how breaking narrative consistency can enhance a story even when it breaks your heart.

Everything is not going to be okay, and that is okay, because there is still a future yet to be seen. This is the statement that I’ve been using to describe the third book in my Drifting Lands series, Prince of Clay.

I did not set out to write a book with that tone. When my first publisher opted not to continue the series, the conventional wisdom I’d encountered most places in the industry that was trilogies were how a series ended, but I had never written the second book, Dragon Road, with that in mind. the Drifting Lands was originally conceived of as an episodic story about the crew of the skyship Elysium, journeying through an endless heaven dotted with floating islands. Sure, there were overarching plots, a slowly-manifesting myth-arc, but when I started the story in Skyfarer I hadn’t really taken into account that I was starting something without a pre-determined ending.

I’ll leave aside whether that was a mistake, because I’m not really convinced that anything in art is actually an error. There are industry conceits and there are ‘rules’ that are sort of commonly accepted, but sometimes a story just doesn’t follow the ones you want it to, and trying to force it into a box it doesn’t fit in will just make it less than it should be. When John Hartness decided to acquire Prince of Clay, the third book of the series, I was tempted to try and end things. Wrap them up with a neat little bow, but I very rapidly realized as I started writing the book that while Prince of Clay was an end—it wraps up many plot threads started in Skyfarer and closes a few character arcs—it was not the end. That was still a ways off, and I had something much bigger on my hands than I had initially anticipated.

So, like I had with Skyfarer and Dragon Road after it, I decided to tell the story that was both satisfying for me to tell, and that moved the arcs of the characters forward. And that meant that it wasn’t so much the conclusion of the series, but the end of its first movement. And that meant that it needed to be different. That it had to contain an element that the first two books had lacked. That element ended up being cost. The stakes of the first two Drifting Lands are high, and there are sacrifices and there are losses, but thus far they did not directly touch the core cast. I had not taken away the irreplaceable, permanently broken something, and given way for a new status quo.

And the thing about a good story is that the mid-point is generally when that really happens. I didn’t want to do that at first. I worried it would drive away people who were coming for something specific and would be angry if that something changed.

But as a dear friend is fond of saying, “that’s coward talk.”

So, if you’ve read the previous two Drifting Lands books, that means that I sort of preemptively owe you an apology. This is the book that changes things. That breaks what has been consistent up until now, and gives way to a broadening scope where the transience of everything from politics to personal relationships to life itself is laid bare. This is the book where consequences fly home to roost, plots culminate, and some stories close, even as others begin. It’s the dusk and the dawn, and it’s not the end of the Drifting Lands, though it is the end of the first movement in the symphony, like the prophet says in Dragon Road. There’s more to come, and while there are goodbyes and there are conclusions, the next day still comes.

Everything is not going to be okay, and that is okay, because there is still a future yet to be seen. In these times, that sentence has been giving me a lot of comfort. I hope it helps you too, and I hope you like the book.

Because there’s more to come, and to meet the future, we have to say farewell to the past. It’s not a perfect answer, but it is mine.

And so, we move forward. I hope you’ll come with me, for what’s next. We’ll make it, so long as we’re together. I truly believe that.

—

Joseph Brassey lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife, two children, and two cats. In his spare time he trains in and teaches Historical European Martial Arts in his native Tacoma. He has worked everywhere from a local newspaper to the frame-shop of a crafts store to the smoke-belching interior of a house-siding factory with very questionable safety policies.

Today, fabulous author and podcaster, Elizabeth Guizzetti, talks about how she turns prose stories into entertaining audio delights.

Thank you for having me today, Jennifer. I’d like to share some ins and outs of crafting a podcast specifically in regards to recording and editing

Recording:

Every podcaster has different preferences in recording equipment. When I first started in 2020, I used a Blue Yeti. However, it got knocked off my recording table and never sounded the same. That led me to test every display microphone at Guitar Center.  This experience helped me better hear the nuances of my voice.

A Sterling Audio ST155 connected to my desk via a boom arm provides the sound quality I want within my budget. I’ve also recorded other voice actors and been happy with the results—although certain baritones, in particular, can produce an unintentional whistle.  Lip gloss reduces this.

I’ve done my best to create a controlled recording studio in my closet. Voice actors do not have to look at my clothes, but they must walk through my bedroom to get inside. My setup includes a windscreen, a pop filter, a thick shield around the microphone, and foam lined walls and a quilt set up behind the actor over my bookcases. That being said, it’s more important to get started than to have the best setup. If all you have is the microphone on your phone, then put a blanket over your head and start recording!

After EVERY recording session, I save a version of the file entitled PROJECTTITLE_RAW_DATE

Editing Process:

Just like editing a story is about creating enjoyment for the reader, editing a podcast is about creating an enjoyable experience for the listener. This requires patience and attention to detail. I use Logic Pro X, but some people like Audacity, Garage Band, or Adobe Audition. The important thing is that you find what works for you and your setup. I started with Garage Band, so upgrading to Logic Pro X made perfect sense.

Roomtone:

The most important tool in your editing arsenal is roomtone – the ambient sound of your recording environment. It captures the subtle, unique noises, such as the hum of lights, a fridge, or distant traffic. Without changing the gain on the microphone, my dog and I leave the closet. I shut all the doors and then go into the living room and count to 100. This audio becomes invaluable during editing—it smooths transitions, masks cuts, and even helps when I flub a word and need to stitch a sentence together.    I make a few different lengths: 1 beat, 2 beats, 4 beats, etc. My first step is to remove awkward pauses and distractions, like sirens, door slams, or other interruptions. Long mistakes are deleted and roomtone of an appropriate length is added. Between sentences there is 3-4 beats. To make it sound natural, listen to your own pause and make your roomtone that length. It sounds natural and unique to you.

Next, I listen to the entire recording and balance the audio levels. This ensures my voice sounds clear while leaving room for atmospheric background sounds. This phase includes EQ adjustments, compressing the audio to eliminate harsh peaks, and sometimes re-recording sections. I save another version of the file at this point. It is entitled PROJECTTITLE _Edit_DATE

Sound Effects and Music

For sound effects, I occasionally create my own, but often, I purchase licensed tracks from Pond5 or Storyblocks. Most editing software also offers handy patches for effects. For instance, to create the effect of someone speaking over a telephone or radio, I use Library > Voice > Telephone. For ghost voices, I use Library > Voice > Chorus and fine-tune it further under Section-Based Processes.

I save another version at this point entitled PROJECTTITLE _Sounds_DATE

Mastering:

Mastering the final track ensures consistent sound quality across different episodes and listening devices. My goal is for my podcast to sound great, however, every speaker system is different, so I focus on consistency rather than chasing perfection.

I save another version of the file at this point entitled PROJECTTITLE _Mastered_DATE

After bouncing the project, I listen to it in a few different places: headphones, monitors, car speakers.  I readjust for large mistakes, but little things I let lie. I may notice tiny clicks or imperfect fades, most listeners won’t. Mistakes are inevitable. Over-editing drains the joy from the creative process, and ultimately, I need to move to the next episode to keep the stories coming.

Thanks for having me; I hope this is helpful to your readers!

—

Elizabeth Guizzetti is a podcaster, illustrator, and author passionate about the eerie and the macabre. She is the creative mind behind the brand new podcast: Scary Stories Whispers in the Rain, a bi-weekly horror podcast where listeners enjoy haunting narratives and her thoughts on books she recently read.  In addition, Elizabeth writes and performs as Loretta, a 300-year-old vampire historian on Vampires of the Paper Flower Consortium. Whether crafting her own tales or amplifying other horror authors’ voices, Elizabeth’s goal is to create podcasts where fans can indulge in the mysterious, eerie, and sometimes terrifying. She exists with her husband and dog in Seattle, WA.

Today, Rigel Ailur talks about her love of history despite a history of bias, amnesia, and erasure of women inventors, warriors, teachers, and scientists.

I absolutely love and adore history.

Even more than I love history, I loathe and despise sexism and the patriarchy. (I know, right? Not the least bit shocking to anyone even slightly acquainted with me.)

It makes for an ironic combination, but perhaps not quite as contradictory as one might think. Plus, the former can be an excellent antidote for the latter if/when people pay attention.

Students of history can’t help but taint the past with the present. Some people try much more diligently than others to remain scientific, scholarly, and objective, but the degree of effort and of success varies wildly. Others—dating all the way back to ancient Egypt’s pharaohs—try to erase and rewrite history. Sometimes malice motivates them. Other times, genuine ignorance—and/or a lack of open-mindedness, perhaps—causes myriad false assumptions. The more we learn, the more we need to revise accepted historical “fact.” Archeological/anthropological news (how’s that for an oxymoron?) constantly reminds us that we need to review our assumptions and reject false conclusions.

Recent discoveries show us that prehistoric hunter-gatherers did not have what we considered the ‘natural’ division of labor, with men doing all the hunting and women all the gathering. It now appears than plenty of women joined in the hunting.

Graves with weapons and other martial artifacts automatically indicated a male decedent. Closer studies now show us otherwise. We now know that Vikings in Scandinavia, Samurai in Japan, and warriors of the Russian steppes—to name just a few examples—included plenty of women. According to some accounts, Mulan led the emperor’s army for over a decade. The Agojie, the women warriors of the Kingdom of Dahomey, likely inspired the Dora Milaje in the Black Panther. Artemisia I of Caria, Queen of Halicarnassus, Kos, Kalymnos, and Nisyros, commanded a fleet of five ships in the Battle of Salamis.

Even recently, women’s names are frequently left off the research papers they contributed to—and restored only after they loudly complain. Plenty more examples of erasure exist. Hedy Lamar is known for her beauty, not for inventing the science that makes the internet possible. Dr. Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, a revolutionary astronomer and astrophysicist, received no credit at the time for her groundbreaking work on hydrogen and the composition of stars—or for breaking glass ceilings in academia as Harvard University’s first woman professor and first woman department chair. The women mathematicians vital to NASA’s Apollo program didn’t get their due respect until decades after the fact—and then, only thanks to a movie.

Speaking of movies, and the sexism and amnesia rampant in Hollywood: Actors such as Kathryn Hepburn, Betty Davis, and Maureen O’Hara led movies in the 30s and 40s. Mary Pickford even founded one of the studios. Yet women never got paid as much as men (and still don’t), and somewhere along the line, the executives decided that ‘women’s films’ didn’t make enough money. Wonder Woman earned over $800 million, yet people claimed Captain Marvel would surely flop. After Captain Marvel made over $1.1 billion, people still claimed ‘no one’ wanted to see the sequel. The Marvels didn’t do as well—sequels rarely do, regardless—but I wonder how much damage the intense sight-unseen criticism did. It doesn’t help that the movie industry is in chaos right now and, in addition, has not recovered from the damage done by Covid. Nevertheless, Barbie pulled in wonderful numbers. Somehow, some people insisted on calling that ‘an exception.’ Funny how many exceptions one can find if one looks.

Which also applies to history in general. Patriarchy notwithstanding, women have always broken the mold and risen above. In every single era and every culture across the world, women defied tradition and overcame mores when they acted as scientists, teachers, and—not least of all—warriors. There are, however, other ways to fight and to influence.

Fatima El-Fihriya founded a university still home to one of the oldest libraries in the world at the University Of Al-Qarawiyyin in Morocco. Recently, Dr. Emily Wilson did another translation of both the Odyssey and the Iliad. Although dozens and dozens preceded hers, men wrote all of them. Not only did her translation return to the meter of verse intended to be read out loud, it restored much nuance that was sometimes lost, as well as not shying from an unflinching depiction of the slavery and class distinctions of that era.

Virtually everyone knows the name Albert Einstein. Few realize that his first wife the brilliant physicist Mileva Marić—arguably even more of a genius than he—worked with him on a number of his papers. Many recognize the names Felix Mendelssohn, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, and Robert Schumann, as well they should. Sad to say, very few know about Fannie Mendelssohn, Maria Anna Mozart, and Clara Schumann.

All these ‘exceptions’ intrigue me and inspire the imagination. So many women throughout history have accomplished so many extraordinary things that the truth truly is stranger than fiction. Still, fiction can draw people’s attention to those examples and many more, hopefully in a way that is every bit as fun and entertaining as it is thought-provoking and challenging.

With only two volumes—so far—the HERitage anthologies barely scratch the surface of the vastness of history. But they are an absolute blast to read, and a joy to write for. Readers thus far are loving them, so here’s hoping their reach continues to expand—preferably exponentially. The more people who delve into the messiness and contradictions of history, the better to acknowledge that the entire population—not just the male half—builds civilizations, and to encourage studying and reviewing history with a much less biased eye.

—

The author of twenty-seven novels and more than ninety short stories, Rigel Ailur writes in almost every genre, but predominantly science fiction and fantasy. Her novels include the Vagabonds’ Adventures action thrillers, the Sorcery & Steel fantasy series (with Laura Ware), the science fiction series Tales of Mimion, and the galaxies-spanning A Little Piece of Home. Her short stories appear in the long-running Brave New Girls young adult anthology series and several other anthologies including the IAMTW’s Turning the Tied and Double Trouble: An Anthology of Two-Fisted Team-Ups. She writes for adults, teens and middle grade. In nonfiction, she contributes television reviews to the Outside In series and to the SciFi Bulletin online. Most importantly, she dotes on her astronomically adorable feline kids. For more information visit: https://www.BluetrixBooks.com/

Today, Henry Herz talks about something near and dear to my heart: On being an anthologist and all that comes with it.

Sometimes I get asked, “Isn’t editing anthologies a ton of work?” I respond, “Yes, it is,” which typically evokes the follow-up question, “Are you nuts?” “Also, yes.” Of course, what they’re really asking is, “Why do you love speculative fiction anthologies so much that you are willing to put in all the effort required to produce good ones?”

It’s a fair question, and my answer involves several sources of joy. The first involves love of the genres. I’ve loved the escapism of speculative fiction since reading Where the Wild Things Are (technically, urban fantasy) as a wee lad in first grade and The Lord of the Rings (high fantasy) in sixth grade. Classics of science fiction like Dune and the Foundation trilogy soon followed in middle school. I was such a book nerd, I requested autographs from some of these authors. To my everlasting delight, I have one from J.R.R. Tolkien. Later in life, I edged into the dark side (horror) thanks to Stephen King’s works and being friends with Jonathan Maberry.

As a reader, I view anthologies as literary banquets – a way to sample authors’ work without the commitment of reading an entire novel. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Try a little of this, taste a little of that. I savor how the contributing authors offer alternate takes on a theme, as well as their different writing styles. And, of course, reading the work of talented authors only improves my writing skills.

I’ve only been writing fiction since middle age. Prior to that, I earned my living as either a project manager or a process improvement consultant. As it turns out, those professions provide good preparation for editing an anthology. One must manage a project budget, schedule, scope, risks, communications, contractual issues, and so on. It helps to be extremely organized (I am) and able to use the appropriate desktop tools (spreadsheets, Word’s track changes, and Google calendar are your friends). Thus, editing (managing) an anthology merges two of my passions.

As an anthology editor, I love being able to choose who will participate. It’s like picking the pro players you want for a fantasy football team. I invite established authors with experience in the genre. Inclusivity is also important to me. Then I add up-and-coming authors, readers may not yet have discovered. It’s also a personal thrill to know my story will be mingling with those by authors I respect. Of course, that creates pressure to write the best story I can. My secret anxiety is not wanting to have a story of lesser quality.

Building an anthology involves multiple steps. You have to solicit and obtain provisional agreement from the headlining authors. Next, you have to write a proposal and sell the project to a publisher. Third, you have to manage the production schedule, or as I like to call it, herd the cats. Fourth, you have to provide constructive feedback, often to more accomplished authors, without feeling like an imposter. Then, you must track story progress, author payments, and so on. And, of course, in Henry’s Corollary to Murphy’s Law, something will cause an author to drop out in mid-project—writer’s block or a competing project or an unresolvable contractual question. You must adapt.

My latest anthology, Combat Monsters (Blackstone Publishing), is a fantasy/sci-fi/alternative history anthology featuring stories from eight bestselling authors. It’s based on the premise that research has uncovered long-buried military secrets—both the Allied and Axis forces used monsters during World War II. Details at https://henryherz.wordpress.com/combat-monsters/

—

Henry Herz has written for Daily Science Fiction, Weird Tales, Pseudopod, Metastellar, Titan Books, Highlights for Children, Ladybug Magazine, and anthologies from Albert Whitman, Blackstone Publishing, Third Flatiron, Brigids Gate Press, Air and Nothingness Press, Baen Books, and elsewhere. He’s edited eight anthologies and written fourteen picture books.

Today’s Tell Me is from my friend and peer, Bryan Young. He talks about a truism in novel writing that is rarely spoken about. Also, he talks about another love of mine…James Bond novels.

The thing about writing novels is that you can’t just learn to write novels, you have to learn to write that novel, and BattleTech: VoidBreaker is definitely a novel I had to learn new things for as I was preparing to write it and while I was writing. That’s one of the things I love about writing, though, to stretch my skills and push myself.

I love setting out to write a novel by trying to push myself. When I initially spitballed the story for VoidBreaker with Ray Arrastia (the line developer for BattleTech) at our creative summit, I got really excited because I realized the sort of story we’d be telling was essentially a spy thriller, and I hadn’t really seen that in BattleTech before. I mean, we’d seen elements of espionage, and we’d seen political machinations, but a straight up Ian Fleming, James Bond sort of thing? No way.

I don’t think folks know this about me, but I know more than any human should about the 007 movies and books. I really love them and the books are so different than the movies and the Fleming novels have this intensely readable quality. Moonraker, which is one of my favorite Fleming books (and one of my least favorite Bond pictures, go figure) spends the first full half of the book with Bond merely working to discover Hugo Drax’s method of cheating at Bridge at the club as a personal favor to M. But it’s absolutely riveting and you want to devour it, chapter by chapter.

So when VoidBreaker fell into my lap, I decided I wanted to really deconstruct and analyze those Fleming books (as well as my favorite 007 movies, and some other espionage and war thrillers I enjoyed ranging from the Mission: Impossible films to Guns of Navarone and The Dirty Dozen) and figure out exactly how they ticked and why and figure out how I could apply it to BattleTech in a way that was honest to what makes a BattleTech book a BattleTech book. I tore through the Fleming novels again, reading my vintage paperbacks, listening to them via audiobooks at the gym, just soaking them in and diagramming them out. Then I’d do the same with all the movies and really try to understand why they were making all the decisions they were and figure out how to apply those story lessons to the original story we were telling.

I learned so much.

If you’re going to embark on something, anything, challenge yourself and do the homework. Bite off a little more than you think you can chew and I think you’ll find that the results are worth it and you’re going to learn a lot in the process.

That’s really the only way, in my mind, to get better. I always want to learn something new with every book. Every time I take a bite at that apple, I want to try to get better at my craft and VoidBreaker opened up a whole new world for me. I just hope it shows and people enjoy it when they read it.

BattleTech: VoidBreaker comes out January 24, 2005. You can preorder a copy here or you can get signed copies straight from the author. 

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Bryan Young (he/they) works across many different media. His work as a writer and producer has been called “filmmaking gold” by The New York Times. He’s also published comic books with Slave Labor Graphics and Image Comics. He’s been a regular contributor for the Huffington Post, StarWars.com, Star Wars Insider magazine, SYFY, /Film, and was the founder and editor in chief of the geek news and review site Big Shiny Robot! In 2014, he wrote the critically acclaimed history book, A Children’s Illustrated History of Presidential Assassination. He co-authored Robotech: The Macross Saga RPG and has written five books in the BattleTech Universe: Honor’s Gauntlet, A Question of Survival, Fox Tales, Without Question, and the forthcoming VoidBreaker. His latest non-fiction tie-in book, The Big Bang Theory Book of Lists is a #1 Bestseller on Amazon. His work has won two Diamond Quill awards and in 2023 he was named Writer of the Year by the League of Utah Writers. He teaches writing for Writer’s Digest, Script Magazine, and at the University of Utah. Follow him across social media @swankmotron or visit swankmotron.com.

Today’s Tell Me comes from the incomparable Marie Bilodeau. She tells me why she thought it was time for a StoryBundle of books with middle-aged protagonists in science-fiction and fantasy, called Never Too Old to Save the World, and how much she loves them.

Age Need Not Stop You

In my twenties, I desperately wanted more stories of women kicking ass, and not needing a man to do so. I wanted female friendships, and arguments, and insecurities…all in an epic fantasy context. Twenty years ago, there were a lot less books with these core themes applied to women, especially ones that weren’t romance-focused.

To scratch my own reading itch, I wrote Heirs of a Broken Land with three central female characters who would fight each other and evil, and would lean into their powers instead of shying away from them, or giving them up for family/romance/etc…

When I reached my forties, I craved reading about older heroines saving the world while juggling family, responsibilities, and any incurred trauma (life is traumatic, you know?). So I jumped back into the world of my first series and created a second series, Keepers of a Broken Land. I’m twenty years older, so are my characters…and evil takes more than one trilogy to defeat.

Again, they’d lean into their powers, and not just pass them down to their children like so many fantasy stories do. They’d try to make right the stuff they screwed up, no matter how haunted they were, and they’d still support each other and keep fighting.

Now hungry for stories of middle-aged protagonists in science-fiction and fantasy, I leapt from book to book, devouring stories of people still standing up despite scars and creaky knees. (I discovered crones, too. Inspiration for Future Marie!)

There’s this thing about loving books where you just want to scream about them to everyone. And that’s what I wanted to do with the stories I discovered, so I decided to put together a Story Bundle that focused on characters 40+.

It was a crazy, joyful experience, and I’m very proud of the ten books gathered in this bundle. From heroes looking for redemption to crones tasked with saving the world (despite not being able to find her reading glasses), from grandmothers trying to save their community to old friends trying to save each other, this bundle will cure you of any conception that older folk can’t save the world.

YA fever has been sweeping the fantasy genre for decades, and generation after generation is told that “they’ll be the ones to clean up the planet/save the world/stop the evil.” … Time to stop putting all the onus on youth and time to step up, no matter your age! Because, if we’re lucky, we’ll all grow up to be middle-aged, and then crones (and other gender equivalents), and we need to help light the night for those following. No passing the buck to younger generations—let’s work with each other, instead.

Because you can be 40+ and still kicking butt.

I hope these ten amazing books will inspire and entertain you as much as they did me! The Story Bundle is available until November 21, so make sure to grab it now!

—

Marie Bilodeau is an Ottawa-based author, TTRPG game writer, and storyteller. Her speculative fiction has won several awards and has been translated into French (Les Éditions Alire) and Chinese (SF World). Her short stories have also appeared in various anthologies and magazines like Analog Science Fiction and Fact and Amazing Stories. Marie is also a performing storyteller and has told stories across Canada in theatres, tea shops, at festivals and under disco balls. She’s won story slams with personal stories, has participated in epic tellings at the National Arts Centre, and has adapted classical material. In her spare time, she’s also the chair of Ottawa’s speculative fiction literary con, Can*Con.

Today, the talented Raven Oak tells me about how footnotes in fiction enhance the story, and why she loves them so much.

I have a love affair with footnotes.

Maybe it’s because of all the academic papers I had to write throughout my career as a teacher, but I think I fell in love with them before high school and college, back when teenage me was devouring speculative fiction books at a rate of one or two per day.

Books like Robert Asprin’s MythAdventures series were a mad mix of fantasy and humor, where footnotes were used as a way for the author, the characters, or both to leave commentary on what was happening aside the plot line. Asprin used footnotes as a comedic schtick, one that worked well for his various series.

As a young writer, I took his example to heart. This was something real writers did. Imagine my surprise when adult writer me found very few footnotes used in fiction at all. (Though this is changing thanks to the LitRPG genre.)

Many people hate footnotes because of their association with MLA citations and research papers, two topics often considered tedious, but who says they have to be? Why can’t authors use them in their fiction? Why can’t a story about dragons have footnotes, too?

While I haven’t gone so far as to use footnotes in my fictional work as of yet, they came in handy during the writing of my first memoir. Because the book covers everything from gender identity, sexual orientation, and transphobia to medical gaslighting and abuse, I found myself needing to clarify most of what I was talking about, if for no other reason than to insure I was educating folks rather than confusing them.

For example, it’s challenging to discuss demisexuality if the reader has no idea what that is or why it’s important. More than that, the footnotes served as a way for me to insert humor and my own wry sarcasm in between the sentences of some very serious topics. As I wrote, I found myself escaping into the footnotes like they were their own substory within the story I was framing.

More importantly, they reminded me of what it was like back when I was twelve. Nothing in the life of an adolescent is simple. Between hormones and peer pressure, the life of a teenager is complicated and messy. Toss in figuring out whether or not your queer, child abuse, and poverty and well… let’s just say there’s a reason child-me escaped so frequently into the worlds of speculative fiction.

Tapping into those feelings and the joy I found in so many tales helped me remember the good inside of the bad that has often been my life. It’s easy to get lost in the trauma, or to believe the depression and anxiety when its roars are sometimes deafening, but the footnotes were a reminder that humor has always pulled me out of the darkness.

Just like speculative fiction, humor has always been a means of escape.

Voices Carry may be a non-fiction memoir, but in the writing of it, I rediscovered the importance of humor…and footnotes!

—

Multi-international award-winning speculative fiction author Raven Oak (she/they) is best known for Amaskan’s Blood (2016 Ozma Fantasy Award Winner, Epic Awards Finalist, & Reader’s Choice Award Winner), Amaskan’s War (2018 UK Wishing Award YA Finalist), and Class-M Exile. She also has many published short stories in anthologies and magazines. She’s even published on the moon! Raven spent most of her K-12 education doodling and writing 500 page monstrosities that are forever locked away in a filing cabinet.

Besides being a writer and artist, she’s a geeky, disabled ENBY who enjoys getting her game on with tabletop games, indulging in cartography and art, or staring at the ocean. She lives in the Seattle area with her wife, and their three kitties who enjoy lounging across the keyboard when writing deadlines approach. Her hair color changes as often as her bio does, and you can find her at www.ravenoak.net.

Today, Amanda Cherry talks about how going back to the beginning of what you love can push you and your career forward in the best way possible.

Oops, I tripped and dropped a short story collection…

Sometimes the thing to get you out of a funk is to get back to your roots. And sometimes what comes out of that is everything you never knew you needed.

Or at least that’s what happened to me.

I didn’t set out to write Afoul & Affairs. Much like many of my other projects over the years of my career (See: the Femmes Fatale series), this collection was an accident. All of my deadlines were met, and I didn’t feel ready to dive into writing another novel. But I wasn’t happy with the notion of professional inertia setting in the way I know it will when I let myself spend too long away from my office. I knew I needed to be writing, but I didn’t know what to work on. I was annoyed with myself. And then it hit me.

Do what you used to do when writing was just for fun.

I started out my [adult] writing life in fanfiction. And my bread and butter was always missing moments. As a teen, I would type up pages of could-have-plausibly-been-cut-scenes from the X-Files on my Panasonic typewriter for my high school best friend to input on her home computer and send into the MSR mailing list on Yahoo.

In college, it was Star Trek: The Next Generation and the occasional Josh/Donna vignette from The West Wing. Then there were the years I spent in that British magic school—especially in the era when I worked in a related exhibit at the Pacific Science Center. And always, peppered within these fan works, were the stories of Han & Leia from the Star Wars films and the novels we now call Legends.

Missing moment fic is my wheelhouse—my area of, if not expertise, then certainly ample experience. It’s what I’ve always done best and a thing that has forever brought me joy.

When I started writing novels, one of the most difficult things to wrap my brain around was what to leave off the page. Suddenly I was not the one to fill in the missing moments, but rather the person charged with supplying missing moments to be filled by fanfic writers in the future.

That. Was. Weird.

With my debut, it took a lot of help from my editor (shout out to Dawn at DefCon One!) to tighten up the book’s pacing. The work I did left, in its wake, many missing moments, and I had to be okay with friends and fans making up their own scenarios to fill those in. It was definitely an adjustment.

Fast forward to 2024 and the 20^th anniversary of Cobalt City. This year is chocked full of releases from half a dozen authors working in and adjacent to the Cobalt City IP. That got my wheels spinning. All these books are connected, and the way we all work together means characters are moving in and out of different authors’ custody. And since not everything being released this year is in chronological order, we’re all having to take into account things that have happened that readers won’t know about yet. It’s absolute IP/Crossover/Collaborative heaven, but it also left room for more missing moments than I could possibly let lie.

So I started with my own.

The decision as to where to end Time & Again was tough, as there was so much more I wanted to make happen between these characters. But the book was already a chonky 120,000 words and ending it with the bad guy defeated, the team disbanded, and the lovers happy for now made all the practical sense in the world.

Sea Change came first, giving Ruby and Angel the time they needed to begin forging the bond that’s going to carry them through some tough times another author has coming down the pike. Then I wrote Sidekick Business, because I wanted to play with the idea. Finding Out actually takes place before Time & Again and I mostly wrote it to tell myself what went on between those two characters. I’d been poking at the idea for Goals for a while, because I found the whole scenario delightful and Settling the Score was mostly the result of having season tickets to the Seattle Kraken.

And this being an election year, I couldn’t help myself but to spend some time playing with Ruby and co.’s plan to foul the plans of a fascist President seeking re-election. In The Arena emerged as the longest piece in the collection and I’m particularly proud of the new heroes I was able to introduce in hopes of future fans picking them up for fic of their own.

One of the most amazing things about writing in a small press IP is how encouraging and supportive everyone is. The idea that these stories, which had come into existence over different timelines and for different reasons, should be collected and published was never in question to anyone but me, apparently.

To my surprise and delight, the 45,000+ words in this collection also put the Ruby Killingsworth series in Best Series contention for the 2025 Hugo Awards, part of Seattle Worldcon, for which I was already excited as a local to the area. My desire to add the words “Hugo Nominated” to my bio and to attend the storied Hugo Losers Party in Seattle are things I’ve never made a secret of, and I find it so very fitting that this collection is the thing that could make that happen.

Writing these stories, these missing scenes, these tight exchanges and moments of instant but important growth for my characters and their relationships, felt like home. And it was just the thing to get me in the chair and writing again after all my novel deadlines had been met and starting another novel felt like too much. These are the kinds of stories I’ve always written, the kinds of stories I’m perpetually drawn to. Giving myself permission to return to the art of writing short fiction and to playing with the possible has been a joy and a delight and I am so excited to be sharing that joy with readers.

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Amanda Cherry is a Seattle-area queer, disabled nerd who still can’t believe people pay her to write stories. She is the author of five published novels as well as TTRPGs, screenplays, and short fiction, and a cast member with the Dungeon Scrawlers on Twitch. Her nonfiction writing has been featured on ToscheStation.net, ElevenThirtyEight.com, and StarTrek.com. Amanda is a member of SAG-AFTRA, SFWA, & Broad Universe. Follow Amanda’s geekery on Twitter, BlueSky & TikTok @MandaTheGinger or visit www.thegingervillain.com

Today, Tamara Kaye Sellman tells me how her vivid imagination is augmented by her dream life and how both inspire her writing.

It’s funny that I should sit down intending to write to you about how my dream life serves such an active part in my writer’s toolkit today. I just found out a flash fiction of mine has been accepted for fall publication. I based this story on real-world events related to a prescient dream I had as a teenager.

That dream occurred on the night of the day of the Jonestown Massacre. This was November 1978, back in the days before the Internet, when people still read newspapers and watched day-old TV news. There was no way for me to know this had happened until the following morning, when I sat down for Sunday breakfast. My family spent those mornings wrapped up in the Sunday Oregonian, which had only just begun to sport four-color ink on the front page, and only on Sundays.

That particular Sunday, the pictures of the Jonestown Massacre screamed from both above and below the fold of the front page. When I saw those pictures, and read the story, I threw up.

This wasn’t necessarily unusual for me; my parents chain smoked. Between the smell of cigarettes, pancakes, Mrs. Butterworth’s, rank coffee, and burnt bacon, I had reason enough to feel queasy like any other Sunday.

So I used that as my excuse for going back to bed because what could I do with this information? Share it? In 1978, I was a slight girl in a boy-heavy family; my thoughts and feelings were routinely rejected. I was always told I was too sensitive, I needed a thicker skin, I had a vivid imagination that might get me into trouble.

Fast forward a couple decades later. My toddler daughter, in her car seat, keeps saying something about a house we’ve just driven past on our way to the grocery store. It makes no sense to me then. Not until I read the news in the paper about a horrible crime committed at the very same house. And then what she told me made perfect sense: she basically knew where the evidence was. (Suffice it to say, F*ck yes, I believed her.)

Fast forward another 25 years, and the story I wrote, “Early Childhood Education,” will appear in the Lowestoft Chronicle this fall. It’s my third? fourth? fifth? rendering of this story. I’ve written it as a straight up personal essay, as a script for a storytelling festival, as a prose poem, as a full-fledged short story, and now, as a flash fiction. What’s been my problem? Figuring out how such a story might end.

No version ever fit until this last one. I ran it by my critique group; it seemed to work well enough, so  I went fishing (that’s what I call submitting). And now my true story wrapped up in flashy packaging will see the light of day.

My dream life isn’t vivid in this way very often, by the way. Rarely prescient. I’ve had a few dreams that predicted moments that came true, none of them significant. Several involved loved ones recently passed, as if they were saying au revoir.

Now, most of my dreams come as little movies with story arcs. Sometimes I find myself in serial landscapes: dreamscapes I return to again and again, to experience different, fully formed adventures.

I chalk all this up to a few things. First, it’s probably just genetics: my dad and his brother had rich dream lives also, so I think it’s just something I

inherited. Second, because I’ve written and told stories my whole life, my brain naturally ascribes meaning as it happens in the events that unfold in my dreams. Third, I’m also a lucid dreamer, which perhaps throws fresh dimension into things, though I try not to mess with the stories that unfold.

And another thing. I’m looking at my new dark speculative collection coming out in July 2024 from Aqueduct Press: Cul de Sac Stories. Checking out the TOC, I’d not noticed until well after the book had gone to press those six of the eight stories in there either originated through dream narratives, or they actually use dreams and nightmares as plot devices.

All I’m saying is this: those nightly adventures you sometimes remember, sometimes can’t? That’s rich material, right there. Nurture it, even if it scares you. Even if nobody believes you. There’s a goldmine in there.

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Tamara Kaye Sellman is author of Cul de Sac Stories (2024; Aqueduct Press), the experimental novelette, Trust Fall (2024; MCR Media), and Intention Tremor: A Hybrid Collection (2021; MoonPath Press).  She is the other half of the BENEATH THE RAIN SHADOW podcast with Clay Vermulm. Her collaborative horror collection with author Clay Vermulm, Rain Shadows, will be released in 2025. Other recent or forthcoming appearances include Lowestoft Chronicle, Lurking (from the Dark Decades Anthology Series), Quibble, Cirque, Turtle Island Quarterly, Verse Daily, MS Focus, and the WRPN Womens International Film Festival (her debut poetry film, LOOK UP, earned bronze laurels there in 2024). Tamara’s work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and earned other awards. She is currently at work on two novels (magical realist cli-fi and post-apocalypse), two poetry chapbooks (Pacific Northwest gothic and tributes to esoterica), a New Weird flash fiction collection, an inspirational essay collection titled RootLeaf Stories, and more experimental poetry films.

Today we have one of my favorite people, voice actor Trendane Sparks. He talks about the value of human performance in book narration versus the lack of emotional context of AI “narrators.”

When you’re watching someone perform live music, sometimes they mess up. They miss notes or they forget lyrics and they have to recover with, hopefully, some measure of grace. Maybe with laughter. But it is those imperfections which make a performance really memorable, really endearing. While studio versions have been “perfected” with adjustments to pitch or tempo or whatever, it loses some of that aliveness and starts to feel very mechanical.

I guess I’d say that’s what makes voice acting the most enjoyable for me, including narration. The story contains the lines, the setting, the stage direction. All of it. And the ‘imperfections’ may not be written in the text at all, but are clearly implied by it. A character who is nervous or afraid might stammer, one who is crying may sniff or cough as they choke up. Voices may crack, breath may be ragged, huffing in frustration, or the gurgling in the throat as someone is dying. Even if they aren’t specifically noted in the letter of the story, they can be inferred from the context of the scene and they add a tremendous amount of character to the…well…characters.

Some might say that such thinking only applies to the characters. And, in many cases they would be correct. But when one of the characters is also the narrative voice, I feel like it works. Maybe not open sobbing or physically emotive stuff like that. But if they are happy, afraid, sad or any of that stuff, it should be detectable, even in their internal voice. In a scene like a chase or other, high tension moment, the pace should be faster. Not quite too fast for the listener to keep up with, but fast enough that they have to focus more so as not to miss anything.

There are some who feel that we should not deviate in any way from the words on the page; that the author’s words are sacrosanct. And I’m not saying that we should change them, per se. But as we bring the work into a new medium, some elements can be used to make the work even better. That’s why I feel it is so important to not simply read the text, but to perform the story as any actor worth their salt would.

When it comes right down to it, we are actors. As such, it is our job to bring our audience along on a compelling and fulfilling emotional journey. We have to make them feel, or at least relate to, joy, sadness, fear, anger and all the other emotions in a story. It is the ‘imperfections’, the deviations from or additions to the exact text on the page, which elevate our work from that of AI or a text-to-speech engine to the true human expression we call Art.

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Trendane Sparks. Born in Texas when Unleaded gas was ‘fancy’ and still under 25¢ per gallon, Tren eventually wound up in California where he crawled through fiberglass insulation to run CAT-5 cable, did tech support for Netcom, had several jobs on a PBS children’s show, worked as a freelance mascot performer and did videogame QA. Then he became a voice actor and life became fun again! Now you can hear his voice in games, animations, and audiobooks. Most commonly, he narrates Catalyst Game Labs in the BattleTech and Shadowrun franchises as well as for the DrabbleCast, Escape Pod, and PseudoPod podcasts.