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Gender parity at Seven by Twenty (take two)

Following VIDA’s publication of The Count 2010, I (and loads of others) have been discussing gender parity in publishing. I’ve finally finished crunching the numbers for my twitterzine, Seven by Twenty, and here they are below. You’ve already seen the publication breakdown and below that are the other numbers I came up with. At the […]

Fuck yeah oatmeal.

My Facebook status update last night was, “For the fifth night in a row, I am getting too little sleep. SUCK IT NEUROGENESIS.” and that goes double for tonight. I work at a hospital, and we’ve lost the person who was doing our FMLA/disability paperwork, so while they hire for that position, I am doing […]

I was angry when we had that fight, too. Our last fight, though I didn’t know that at the time. What did you expect me to say? You come in late and you’re bloody and filthy, and you tell me some story about “the fey,” and “faeries.” About the fey and our family and a war. You said, “I have to go, Mom. The Unseelie Court has taken the Southern Provinces, and only our family’s bloodline can save the High Ones.” It makes no sense. Those are things out of stories, out of books. I just want to know, Amanda—in what universe did you think I would not ask you what drugs you were on?

Read “No Return Address” by Sigrid Ellis.

Improving on Nature

Just for fun, I made a little movie of my poem “Improving on Nature” which appeared on Strange Horizons a few weeks ago.

I imagined thin, parched men and women, kneeling for supplication, and gods descending from the clouds of heaven in flowing garments of silk and bedecked with jewels. Like a mythological drama, except that this was the alleged past of my people.

Read “Where It Ends” by Swapna Kishore.

Charley sat on a lawn chair watching the sun set. He looked human—sort of—but there were differences, the biggest being the third eye above the bridge of his nose. When Charley got stoned, his corneas turned bright pink and the third eye rolled up into his head.

Read “The Big Splash” by George R. Galuschak.

analyzing their children for design flaws

Strange Horizons has accepted my poem “Improving on Nature.” I’ll let y’all know when it goes up. In the meantime this week’s poem is quite wonderful. I get weird comment spam sometimes. This morning I got this, from a website selling cars: “You know an odd feeling? Sitting on the toilet eating a chocolate candy […]

When George first started shoplifting, she’d palmed anything portable, from candy bars to nail clippers. Now she specialized in nail polish. By her last count, she had acquired two hundred and twenty-three individual colors. She had posted this on her Facebook status, and some kid from middle school wrote on her wall that she was a “luser.” George decided this made him look way dumber than her, but she still deleted the wall post. Then she unfriended him. George thought of herself as mature because she was not afraid to unfriend someone. Even Bob didn’t unfriend. Though, admittedly, Bob had seven hundred and ninety-one friends and was the founder of the group “WE HEART VAMPIRES!!!!!!” No one called Bob a luser. She got “sllllluuuuuutttt.”

Read “WE HEART VAMPIRES!!!!!!” by Meghan McCarron.

flailing their/MBA’s in one’s face, determined to drag/one down to their bottom line.

Read “Some Zombies One Should Avoid” by G. O. Clark.

The golem is made of dishes. Its arms are pieces of bowls. Its belly is humongous dinner plates. Its legs are ceramic slivers—there’s no telling what those used to be. Its face is made of serving platters, flat and white and simple like the ones you get at Target. Its salt-shaker nose is leaking salt, and the golem sneezes, swaying tentatively towards me.

Read “Kifli” by Rose Lemberg.