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The Future of Science Fiction and Fantasy Publishing

"...authors create and distribute their work, and readers, individually and collectively, including fans as well as editors and peers, review, comment, rank, and tag, everything."
-- from Social Publishing

Ms. Galahan and Her Cardboard Shack - 1st finished draft, short version

The ending is flat-out terrible. One of these days I'll give the story a proper finish, maybe something with zombies. That said, I love the rest of the story, so give it a read and lemme know what you think.

MS. GALAHAN AND HER CARDBOARD SHACK
By J. Alexander Jerusalem

Mary Galahan lived in a rickety shack by the ocean.
[picture of shack with ocean]
The shack was built from pieces of cardboard, plastic bags, and other things that Mary found in the City. The City was LA and Mary Galahan was one of LA's people.

Carnival Flame

This is the first in a series of short stories that have been pinging around my head for a while. Eventually I want to make them into an anthology, but first I have to get better at writing. :)
Criticism is welcome. Thank you.

======

Drumbeats pound through the air, resonating in bone and mind. A steady beat echoes off the wall, thump thumping. The beat starts in the bones, working its way with careful steps to the stomach and below.

Gore City - Chapters 1, 2

Any criticism is welcome provided you don't think it's complete crap. Because if you do, it probably wasn't written with you in mind. Check the tags to see if it'll mesh with your biases.

It begins:

Hello. I am Tom. I will be the narrator of this story because the rest of me is busy being Trog. Trog is not the same person as me but he uses my body sometimes. This will be confusing which is why I am telling you. So you will not be confused now.

Trog and I have a job breeding burritos and tacos and things at Taco Shack. We have learned so much about breeding foods that we were specially given this job, no application necessary. We are somewhat famous for our breeding skills. I am better at it than Trog but don't tell him I said that.

I have heard that in some places they do not breed their deadfoods, only living types. Special cabbage or sheep made from all the best cabbage and sheep bits.

Flight

Flight By Bsonk

“So, what did you call me over here for?”
“I’ve done it! Finally It’s finished!” He was a tall man, with childlike energy, who bounced all over the room with his exuberance. He wore threadbare clothes, with thick glasses and a white coat, and he had a cap over his disheveled hair. He was the picture of a garage mad scientist, and we were in his lair.

Escariotte

Final Draft Page 1
Escariotte
BsonK

Judas Escariotte lay broken on the floor of the cell. A slender beam of light coming in through a tiny window illuminated his beaten body. His long, black wings were broken in twenty places, the nerve endings frayed, pain saturating his system. Judas breathed raggedly, slowly, painfully. He saw a familiar figure standing outside.
“Kaliel?... “ he breathed. “Why?...”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“Judas, please tell me. Why did you make this deal?”

My Personal Rules for Critique

I just wanted to share a few thoughts on what I try and do when making comments about somebody's work. I have a few rules that I follow in terms of how I express my criticism- and I've noticed that (so far) people have been great at both giving and taking criticism (remarkable- my wife was shocked to see some of the comments exchanged). I don't always follow these rules myself, but they're the general formula I try to stick to.

Purify (intergalactic archeology)

Purify - a couple of chapters - can you relate to/get to like these people?

Chpt1 - Early

“We’re Early!”

“Impossible,” said Danno, the captain of the String Slider Tony Robinson. “We can not to travel to times in Earth’s past and this planet had only just shown up as having nuked itself into oblivion.”

“Sorry,” first officer and pilot, Lisa said, “but we’re still early.”

“I’ll put us behind the major moon and then I’ll work out just how early we are.”

Trojan Horse pt 1

The first part of a story I've been working on for a bit. There's more of course, but I don't want to dump it all at once. I'll try and post a new segment every day or so.

Double Helix

"I knew I'd find you here," said the girl with the short red hair. "My aunt can tell the future."

Lia was four years old the first time she fell in love. Joey was five. He lived in the apartment above hers.
Joey believed he could fly. No, Joey knew he could fly. Of course, no one believed him. So he was set to prove it.

Jack was twenty-two when he had his epiphany. Doctors, lawyers and friends called it a nervous break-
down or, “Jack’s episode,” but Jack saw it as a blessing. He could see things clearly now.

Poe Pourri

This is a story I wrote many years ago, having spent too long reading too much of Edgar Allan Poe's science fiction:

The manner of my uncle’s death came as a shock to us all. That he had experimented on himself we found not at all surprising, it was the gruesome nature, and uncertainty that experimentation was the cause of his death that disturbed us. That disturbed me.

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