2024 Year-End Roundup
It’s been a long, strange year, and trying to encapsulate small bits of writing news for the benefit of a newsletter feels like playing a kazoo in a tornado. Still, I was here; I did do some writing; I am proud of it. And to that end… here it is, for your consideration.
Fiction
The most prominent story from me this year is "A Foundational Model for Talking to Girls" (social SF, 2300 words), which appeared over at Escape Pod -- despite the title, it's less about the artificial intelligence and more about the ways in which we interact, and I went rummaging through a lot of awkward-teen feelings to find the core of it. If you read one of my stories this year, I'd recommend this one first.
I'm also proud of "Through the Smoke" (fantasy, 5600 words), which appeared the anthology FAMILIARS from Zombies Need Brains. This first-person story, about a caterpillar-familiar who's unwilling to metamorphose, still makes me smile on the read-through. (I joke that it's inspired by Guy de Maupassant and PAW Patrol; I joke, but I'm also sort of serious about it.)
The third story, "Midnight at the Bookshop [...]" (slipstream/horror, 1500 words), is a Borges-inspired bit of literary weirdness I snuck into the anthology MOVING ACROSS THE LANDSCAPE IN SEARCH OF AN IDEA, from Air & Nothingness Press. I know they tend to do limited runs, and I have no idea if it's still available. (It's for stories like these that I occasionally contemplate starting a Patreon or similar -- I find a story that's 80% footnotes to be delightful, and maybe you would too!)
I also had 1.5 reprints appear this year:
"The Key Turns Once, and Once Only," my SF/western (6400 words) in the now-defunct ZNB Presents online magazine, was collected in their Year 2 Anthology.
"Techniques for Folding Time and Space to Fit Into Your Nightstand" (900 words) won't let the multiverse destroy it, and is now live at Small Wonders!
Poetry
I had nine poems appear throughout 2024. In most cases, poems are easier for you to go to read than they are for me to try to describe, but here we go all the same:
“Earthbound” — Space & Time Magazine #147 (a golden shovel after Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 19 lines). It’s an exercise in watching someone grow up and grow beyond you.
“Worlds I Didn’t Hear” — Strange Horizons (free verse, SF, 43 lines). Aliens, the end of the world, and how someone hard of hearing might react as things fall apart.
“Beyond the Dome”— Samjoko (blank verse, SF, 25 lines). From a larger work in progress. This uses meter to trap the reader and drop them into a pit.
“Lesson’s End”— Samjoko (a villanelle, fantasy, 19 lines).
“Until Tomorrow” — Samjoko (free verse, science fantasy, 24 lines). From the same larger work as above. Fantasy, and daydreams, and then a rug pull.
“All Hallows Star” — Star*Line (free verse, SF/horror, 33 lines). I was going to be part of a Halloween-themed collection a while back, and this was part of that output. (My coolest nightmares are deep space nightmares.)
“Timetables” — Dreams & Nightmares Issue #127 (a golden shovel after Ezra Pound - 14 lines). Can someone golden shovel an entire poem? Yes they can!
“In memory of the city by the river” — Silver Blade (a fibonacci poem, 13 lines). Vole engineers. I should do more with this.
“Lapidescence” — Star*Line Issue 47.1 (free verse, 28 lines). Lineage, and rocks, and the weight.
Social
I did three events this year. I appeared at Ithaca Spring Writes to participate in a panel on world-building; I read two stories at The Story Hour; and I moderated a panel on Getting Tech Right in SF as part of Flights of Foundry. I also had my first-ever author reading there, which was a delight.
I don’t get out much. (This may not surprise anyone.) Life is such that appearing at cons is probably out of the question, unless there’s particularly fantastic happenstance. Virtual, though? Virtual I can do, and I’m happy to do. Being in between in-person critique groups means I don’t get to network as much as I’d like… so these moments where I can help, or terrify, or both, are a balm to the spirit.
It feels like a quiet year for me. Not quite as many stories as earlier in these blighted 20s; and 2025 may continue that trend. (I do have four poems and one story on the docket to appear, so I won’t be absent entirely.) Part of trying my hand at longer work means my capacity to throw short work at the world has lessened; and part of hitting an asymptotic limit on how much I can write without injuring my real life means I may be gated at a certain quality level unless I really sit down and focus. I don’t want to churn out garbage for the sake of hitting metrics; I want to tell stories I think are entertaining, or inspiring, or creepy, or some combination thereof.
We’ll see how much of that I can sneak out to you next year.
In the meanwhile? Be well. Stay safe. Read on.
-B.