elleleuthold

[elleleuthold]

....the pianist my cousin omg.

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A post shared by Chloé Trevor (@chloetrevor_violin)

Remember, kids: Don’t tell another musician that you know the “correct” way to play Bach. In the words of @psychokaz: “it’s a slippery slope.” 🎻Bach: Sonata for Violin and Keyboard No. 4 in C minor BWV 1017

[elleleuthold]

If you haven’t read them yet, Donna Jo Napoli and Robin McKinley do great re-told fairy tales, and I always recommend The Perlious Gard (a re-telling of the Ballad of Tam Lin).

Some I think look really interesting but haven’t read yet are Neil Gaiman’s works in this area and Boy, Snow, Bird by Helen Oyeyemi.

After watching Beauty and the Beast I am really in the mood for a good fairytale binge. I’m thinking of rereading A Court of Thorns and Roses, however I wanted to save it until a little closer to book 3… Any book suggestions would be much appreciated :)

[elleleuthold]

Sometimes, the only way to make life seem better is to reread Terry Pratchett’s Night Watch.

[elleleuthold]

fontess replied to your post: Interbellum

SO AWESOME

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it :D

[elleleuthold]

I have no clue how to live in the present moment or be mindful

Download an app called ‘Headspace’, it has a free introduction to meditation. It’s guided 10 minute sessions, really fun and easy to use, it will teach you the basics. Meditation is great practice for being present throughout the whole day and learning it is crucial to living mindfully. Pick up a book called ‘The Power of Now’ by Eckhart Tolle. It lays out in beautiful clarity how to become more aware of our own minds, and of the world around us.Hope that helps, both certainly helped me 💛

[elleleuthold]

UPDATE: Fireside Fiction is open too! Flash Fiction (up to 1k) for the next week, and their submissions schedule is available here! They pay $0.125 per word and have expressed especial interest in stories featuring diversity and inclusivity in all forms to do their part in breaking down the white male dominance of traditional publishing.

Open Short Story Markets

If anyone’s looking to submit short stories in speculative fiction:

Strange Horizons opens on Monday March 20th ($0.08 per word, up to 10k, under 5k preferred). They appear to be opening every week on Mondays and following a new, weekly issue format.

Daily Sci-Fi ($0.08 per word, 100 to 1.5k, under 1k preferred) is pretty much always open. They accept all sorts of speculative fiction.

Lightspeed ($0.08 per word, 1.5-10k, less than 5k preferred) is opening on April 1 and will remain open through April 30. They are specifically looking for fantasy submissions this round.

PodCastle ($0.06 per word, up to 6k) is currently open to fantasy stories, and partner sites EscapePod (sci-fi) and PsuedoPod (horror) also appear to be open, possibly through April 30 if the PsuedoPod schedule applies to all of them.

Shimmer is currently open ($0.05 per word, minimum $50 payment). They prefer contemporary speculative fiction.

Keep in mind that any submitted stories must not have been previously published online (or anywhere else). When they purchase your story, they are looking for first worldwide rights in English, often in both text and audio.

For more markets, check out the March Market Report and qualifying markets list by the SFWA.

Tagging @writeblrconnections to get the word out!

[elleleuthold]

Open Short Story Markets

If anyone’s looking to submit short stories in speculative fiction:

Strange Horizons opens on Monday March 20th ($0.08 per word, up to 10k, under 5k preferred). They appear to be opening every week on Mondays and following a new, weekly issue format.

Daily Sci-Fi ($0.08 per word, 100 to 1.5k, under 1k preferred) is pretty much always open. They accept all sorts of speculative fiction.

Lightspeed ($0.08 per word, 1.5-10k, less than 5k preferred) is opening on April 1 and will remain open through April 30. They are specifically looking for fantasy submissions this round.

PodCastle ($0.06 per word, up to 6k) is currently open to fantasy stories, and partner sites EscapePod (sci-fi) and PsuedoPod (horror) also appear to be open, possibly through April 30 if the PsuedoPod schedule applies to all of them.

Shimmer is currently open ($0.05 per word, minimum $50 payment). They prefer contemporary speculative fiction.

Keep in mind that any submitted stories must not have been previously published online (or anywhere else). When they purchase your story, they are looking for first worldwide rights in English, often in both text and audio.

For more markets, check out the March Market Report and qualifying markets list by the SFWA.

Tagging @writeblrconnections to get the word out!

[elleleuthold]

by Jess Taylor (tumblr)

[elleleuthold]

Interbellum

This was written for these prompts here, including a dialogue prompt by @the-modern-typewriter. 

The newsnet report sets them all off-balance. Three years they’ve been out of the black, three years of making good on their severance packages: a bit of sterilized land to bring back to life, housing, food stipends, all the net access they want. Yeah, it’s Corps-standard housing, with cameras in every corner and bots nestled into the walls, and yes, they’re basically rehabilitating a land-fill with their life-force but it’s theirs, is the thing. 

Three years of trying to make something work in this new world, and now there’s a new war.

Rigel tracks the others through the spreading numbness in his face. Vega is signing wide and loud, her face set in a snarl and rage in every line of her frame. Trix sinks to the floor, her personal pad falling from lax fingers. Betel and Phi gravitate toward each other, intertwining until their hands are clenched so tight Rigel can see bones pressed against their skin. Altair stands still as death with his eyes unfocused, hand over his mouth, and it’s only when Vega turns off the feed that they realize he’s bitten his thumb so hard he broke skin.

Rigel feels like he should say something. Something like, We’ll be okay, or Pull together, or even just Squad meeting at 1300, just for the familiarity of it. But they’re not soldiers anymore, not really, and for all that they’ve hung together, their lives are all their own now.

His wrist alert chirps in the silence, a tone of cascading bells that means Laima’s calling him, probably because she saw the report too and wants to check in, wants to make sure he’s okay. He’s not sure he is.

The alert sounds again, unanswered, and that’s enough to break their silent, shared desolation. Betel moves to inspect Altair’s hand and Phi ask Vega to help with the weekly aquaponics maintenance,  a request that’s more likely to result in overfed fish than anything else but will at least keep them both distracted.

Trix bolts. Rigel nearly goes after her—the last times she ran is still fresh in his mind, the hiss of the airlock and the cold-sweat horror of watching her float between ships—but they’re on-planet now, and there’s only so much she can get up to. Even paying her bail after yet another bar fight is a fairly tiny sacrifice at the moment, in the wider abyss his world’s just morphed into.

He retreats to his quarters, trying to think of a way to tell Laima, No, I’m not okay, that won’t end in a storm of civilian good intentions on their doorstep.

Trix isn’t at lunch, but that’s fairly normal. Phi and Betel aren’t at lunch either, wrapped up in each other somewhere (he’s not jealous, he just… hopes he gets there someday, with someone, and he’s ridiculously hopeful Laima will be that someone and yet…). He only starts to really worry when Trix doesn’t show up for their evening sparring match. He waits twenty minutes, then strips out of his extra gear and goes looking. Vega’s in the kitchen, blasting club songs and making herself a pick-me-up smoothie.

Have you seen Trix? He signs. She rolls her eyes, the flash of her hands flippant.

She’s out.

He frowns at her. He’s known that much since this morning.

Any idea where?

Nope.

He checks the logs. Unless she’s been screwing with the house again, Trix has been out continuously since just after breakfast. She’d put “town” in the destination marker. Great.

Vega taps him on the shoulder.

Try the docks, she signs, and he sighs and nods his thanks. The spacedocks are not his favorite place these days, but Trix has kept up an attachment, somehow.

He heads back to his quarters to change again, exchanging soft house clothes for, on further thought, the thickest of his explorer suits. It’s Trix, he tells himself as he checks and double-checks each buckle and seal, triple-checks his breather. Stars only know what she’s gotten herself into.

The shuttle is is crowded and stinks of bleach, and the docks themselves aren’t much better. He makes himself search thoroughly, even though the yawning open space over his head makes him question every step he takes. Even though the AstraCorps recruitment drive, previously confined to flickering posters and infrequent net ads, has ticked over into full-burn wartime levels. The Anthem is sounding on repeat from every speaker he crosses. There are people wearing Corps badges handing out flyers. Vid ads flash over buildings, some from the new colony basecamp missions, a few from the old explorer missions, and a handful with actual Operation StarForge footage. He might even be in some of them.

He checks he hasn’t accidentally left any old regalia tagged to his suit and tries not to watch.

A kid with a slap-on badge shoves a glossy bit of paper in his hands and Rigel takes it without comment. It occurs to him, somewhat belatedly, that Trix would hate all this clamor even more than he does. Whatever peace she gets out of looking up at unfiltered sky is probably drowned out by this much insistent humanity. He considers alternatives: The Sol’s day market? One of the not-quite-official Corps bars? No, they’ll be just as crowed as the docks.

He’s thinking about this the wrong way. This isn’t “Trix on a bender” or “where would Trix go.” It’s been nearly 14 hours with no contact. This is “mission parameters exceeded, throw out the book.” If Trix were looking for me, he considers, what would she do?

She’d get some better intel, that’s what she’d do. By whatever means necessary.

He finds her at the edge of the settlement, sitting on a piece of ribbed plastic paneling with half her explo suit shoved down around her hips and her short dark hair standing up in hand-tugged disarray. Her breather gear is settled between her legs, close at hand but not attached.

Fear balloons tight in his gut—she’s so still, and the oxygen content out here is so low, and he never thought she’d be one to take herself out but—but then he kicks through a spray of gravel and she twists around.

“What?” she snaps. Her pupils contract to pinpoints in the glare of his lamp and she turns away again with a huff. He can see her pulse jump in her neck.

“I never thought I’d see you slumming it like…this,” he says. The one thing vets never have to worry about is a properly mixed air supply. After a four year tour in the black, AstraCorps makes sure they’ll never have to fear death by asphyxiation ever again. It’s practically the only thing they really can rely on.

“You weren’t supposed to fucking see it,” she snarls, still not looking at him. “How did you find me?”

“Now, is that the way you greet someone who’s been frantically worried for you?”

She glares out at the darkness.

“It is if you activated my tracer.”

“I don’t have access to that anymore,” he reminds her. He sits next to her and turns off the lamp. The plastic is even more uncomfortable than it looks. “I triangulated your wrist alert instead.”

“Ass,” she says, and he just nods. He’s not her CO and they’re not quite friends, but he thinks she probably knows, in that unspoken space between them, that he was always going to follow. Old habits, and all that.

The darkness folds around them and chill settles into his bones despite the mild weather. He needs a distraction, needs her to keep talking.

He hands her the breather mask and she makes a face, but she takes it.

“I went by the recruiter’s office,” she says after a few breaths. “There was a line out the door and halfway down the street. Kids, mostly. Probably only ever been on an ark ship before. Most’ve them looked like they’ve never had a decent meal in their lives.” She takes another breath of O2 mix, the breather pressing against her cheeks hard. Like she needs it for more than just air.

“They changed the standard package.”

His eyes are adjusting, stars spreading out above them. He hugs his knees.

“How so?” he asks, concentrating on the words.

“There’s a clause for family support for four years, even if you can’t complete the whole stretch, and for four more after if you do. Extra support getting a union-approved job after, too. And they dropped the age minimum again. For training only, it says, but,” she shrugs. “16. Two years of training, two years on tour.”

Rigel hissed through his teeth. Training. They’d all heard that one before. It was amazing, the sorts of missions the brass could pass of as training. Stick an experienced officer in charge and call it a milk run or a systems test and you could be en route anywhere.

“They’ll go over quota,” he says, mostly to hear it aloud. They both know it. A family stipend and job security after? Half the under under-twenties in the colonies will sign on just for better food and air.

“They need officers, too,” Trix says. “There’s a course, for former enlisted. Six months, plus escort runs, and they pop you straight to lieutenant.”

“Awful well prepared, aren’t they,” he says. Awful just about covers it, really. He watches her watch the sky; her breathing is slow and steady. Controlled. Practiced.

“You going to re-up?”

She slumps.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Yeah, I think I will.”

“Me too.”

She punches him in the arm.

“You hate it up there, I remember how much you hated it. You can hardly sit here looking up. You should stay in the settlement, grow crops, ask Laima to marry you, have some kids.”

He shakes his head.

“And then what, watch them ship off to some new war I’m too old to fight in?”

Her face scrunches up.

“That’s not...” She waves pass-along and faulty intel. “You can’t just stop living, waiting for it to come back.” She takes up the breather again. “Besides,” she adds, “the others are going to need you.”

It’s true. Phi and Betel won’t go back; they won’t risk losing each other now. And Vega and Altair can’t go back, even if they wanted to. Vega’s moods are too chaotic, and Altair’s prosthesis won’t pass a medical exam. Full-humans only, as if that makes a difference in someone’s ability to sit at a ship’s computer. 

“If I pair off with Laima, I’ll be leaving them anyway.”

“Pff. Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, LT.”

He doesn’t want to go back. They both know it. But he doesn’t want her to be alone up there, either. But maybe that’s his problem too, and not hers.

She’s watching the sky again, tiny pricks of light reflected in her eyes.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they,” he says, and he can just make out the curve of her smile in the darkness.

“Yeah,” she says. She reaches one hand up, extended in front of her, a shadow against the spray of starlight above them.

“Yeah, they really are.”

[elleleuthold]

Hope you got some good writing in! My own sprint got a bit derailed because my computer freaked out as soon as the hour hit. LibreOffice refused to open, everything crashed, it was a mess, so I ended up starting and going late on the first one. Next one starts in 40 minutes! Maybe by the end I’ll finally get this story done ^^

I’m doing a writing sprint with @elleleuthold right now, working on older projects! Thanks so much for getting me off my lazy butt to wrap up some stories :)

[elleleuthold]

First sprint starts in an hour!

Sprint Schedule (3/17 and 3/18)

Okay! Friday will have an hour-long prompt sprint, currently scheduled for 12:00pm CST. Prompt will be up around 11am (or earlier).

On Saturday there will be two no-prompt sprints for focus on current projects, one at 10:00am CST and the other at 1:00pm CST. Everyone is welcome to join in! And remember that if you post your work you can always tag me. I’d love to see what you come up with!

people who expressed interest: @eggletine, @fontess, @a-rangerxsilver-nocturnedragon.

(Also, @write-out-of-time and @oldsoulfran, I have not forgotten the stories you tagged for me! I have them bookmarked for read/comment/reblog I promise, reading has just not been a focus lately sorry!)

[elleleuthold]

So if you lived in a society where you had to secure your communication in order to be yourself around others, here are the apps that could help you do that.

[elleleuthold]

Sprint prompts!

For today’s 12:00 noon (CST) hour-long sprint, feel free to choose or combine any of the following prompts:

Image: (When Worlds Collide, by Dave Morrow)

Song: Vox Populi- Thirty Seconds to Mars

Dialogue (from @the-modern-typewriter [source]):

“I never thought I’d see you slumming it like…this.”

“You weren’t supposed to fucking see it. How did you find me?”

“Now is that the way you greet someone who has been frantically worried for you?”

Everyone’s welcome, feel free to tag me if you post your work!

[elleleuthold]

what if every ancient text was translated in the style of dr. seuss

for example:

“I will not fight the Trojans!” Achilles then said.

“I will not fight them now or when you all are dead!

I won’t fight them at Troy. I won’t fight them at Greece.

I won’t fight them at war. I won’t fight them in peace.

I will not fight them while Agamemnon is king.

Do not try to bribe me- I won’t take your things.

I will not fight the Trojans, not here and not there.

I will not fight the Trojans- not anywhere.”

[elleleuthold]

Sprint Schedule (3/17 and 3/18)

Okay! Friday will have an hour-long prompt sprint, currently scheduled for 12:00pm CST. Prompt will be up around 11am (or earlier).

On Saturday there will be two no-prompt sprints for focus on current projects, one at 10:00am CST and the other at 1:00pm CST. Everyone is welcome to join in! And remember that if you post your work you can always tag me. I’d love to see what you come up with!

people who expressed interest: @eggletine, @fontess, @a-rangerxsilver-nocturnedragon.

(Also, @write-out-of-time and @oldsoulfran, I have not forgotten the stories you tagged for me! I have them bookmarked for read/comment/reblog I promise, reading has just not been a focus lately sorry!)

[elleleuthold]

[elleleuthold]

eggletine replied to your post: Sprints?

*raises hand* I’m down for Saturday!

woohoo! prompts? or just dedicated writing time?