Well, one of the things about not having a working computer--hence having to use the library computers for everything, which is particularly a pain when the library's on restricted summer hours--is that a lot can happen between journal entries.

#

The highlights right now start with the fact that my story Three Perspectives on the Role of the Anarchists in the Zombie Apocalypse is now on-line at Afterburn SF!

For better or for worse, a lot about my writing style has changed in the last year or so since I wrote it and I also feel like the historical moment being zanily extrapolated in that story has shifted a lot since I wrote it, but still, out of my pre-Clarion stories, this is one of the ones that in many ways I'm still the most fond of. So, whatever's changed since the personal and political moment I wrote it in, I'm still really happy that it's found a home.

#

In a closely related bit of good news, I got my payment for the story via paypal yesterday morning ($30, which is, pathetically enough, the most I've been paid for a short story yet), so yesterday afternoon I filled out and turned in an on-line application to join the Horror Writers' Association, which this sale qualified me for affiliate membership in. This feels really good.

#

Finally, on Friday night I finished a new story, entitled, "Hotter Than A Match Head, Cooler Than A Corpse." It's my attempt at carrying out the writing assignment that Maureen gave me in Wisconsin, and I have no idea how well it did in the factors she was thinking of when she told me to write it, but it's the first story I've finished since WisCon, so I'm still pretty happy.

Without saying too much about the specific things I was trying to do with this story (too many regular critiquers of my stuff read this, and I don't want to bias crits), I'll just give the "elevator pitch" synopsis. As usual, I couldn't come up with a single-sentence description, but I can at least try a two-sentence description for this story: On one level of description, it's a parable about love, survival and the nature of choices. On another level of description, it's a hard-boiled, post-apocalyptic monster-fighting story about lesbian drug dealers. Take your pick, really.

Actually, all joking aside, while I've done female pov's a couple of times before, this is the first time I've done one as first-person. Also, embarassingly enough, this may quite possibly be the first story I've ever written where everyone wasn't straight. So enough grounds for twitchiness all around about getting stuff right, and for me to be pretty relieved to read the reaction of my first reader a few minutes ago.

Anyway, a short preview:

#

Smash. Bang. Hiss. Night sounds, in a city that forgot to close its doors and dim the lights when everyone moved on. The noises echo around us as me and Linda stride through the flaming wreck that used to be the downtown headquarters of the Miami Police Department. Now, it’s just another place for the humans left in this city to steal, and fuck, and burn things down.

There was a time when people would have wondered what a nice girl like me was doing here. Just like there was a time when I was a nice girl...