First, wordpress has decided what we really need as bloggers is a dorky question at the top of the blog, which it won’t let us remove.
It’s obvious from the question it thinks we’re all 20 somethings with our heads full of mush and leftism (BIRM.) So it asks questions on the ethics of eating meat or such rot. It also would like kompromat, so it asks what thing we’re most sorry/embarrassed by. Or what we’re most envious of.
<Rolls eyes.
Let’s say I’d need to be really blocked on blog posts to write to the world’s stupidest prompts. I wish they’d stop coming u with crazy stuff like that, and just make posting and themes and stuff EASIER.
Today I’m not blocked at all. I’m still tired and moving slow from the great coughening, and I probably should put a tree up sometime, plus I have curtains to finish, and three stories just hanging.
On top of which husband is working all the hours G-d gives again, which means he won’t come to bed till midnight, and gets up at six, which wakes me. I’m all right. I just don’t function well with sleep deprivation.
Anyway, I thought I’d put up some pretty SF pictures, but of course mind is stuck in short story mode, so some of these have titles, some have beginnings, and some I will write. Others not, of course. The not first….
The one above is a definitely not, unless my brain really breaks. Title: When aliens are late with their gift shopping on Christmas eve.
Probably not, but if I wrote it it would start with “Princesses on Earth, in the dark ages, thought it was terrible to be locked in a tower. They had no idea how bad it would be, when your father could put you in a whole other planet and never allow you to meet anyone.”
Likely not. “Myvara had had just about enough of Christmas. The entire trade station was hip deep in Christmas trees and kitchy ornaments. Ever astronaut that docked wore a Santa hat. And late at night, even in the most disreputable dives, there were sing alongs to the tune of “It came upon a midnight clear” as though any of them space born — had ever seen a midnight, or knew it by anything but an hour on the clock. She was going to build herself an isolation sphere and stay there till this madness passed.”
Likely not, because sad, but “The little Robot had walked the entire asteroid he’d been abandoned in, looking for someone, anyone. Just because he was old and obsolete it didn’t mean he didn’t want company. It had been made by social apes, and it was a social little fellow. After months alone, he found a blue rose, growing out of the cracked, dry surface of the planet. It didn’t talk, and it didn’t think. But the question was, who had planted it, and how did it grow?”
By the time the aliens came, humans were gone and long dead or gone elsewhere. After centuries of experimentation, they’d recreated a pair from DNA left behind. Now on the eve of opening the gestator, the aliens paused. The Earth was a harsh, unforgiving environment compared to their own. What would these creatures be like? And if unleashed upon the universe, what would they do?
Why the heck was a clock at the end of the bridge? Bob drove it every day, and normally there was … well, the other side of the bridge, a downtown street. There was a Greek Diner there, he wanted to go to. So, what was with the clock, the weird portal, and definitely the lightening. Bob had a feeling December 24 was late.
Spaceships were no place for cats and dogs. Not yet, at least. Later, when the price per pound of transport wasn’t so prohibitive, maybe.
But humans wanted pets. Even if they had to build them themselves from spare parts, working feverishly in off-duty hours.
Fuzzy came into being that way. A stainless steel cat, without the slightest bit of fur. But he walked silently on tiny cat feet, and as though form dictated function, he sat at Imrald’s feet and purred.
I am writing a short story, and a bit…. uh…. late on it. Oh, the short story is for here.
So, in the meantime, I thought I’d promote a couple of Hun businesses, and let you put your own in comments.
Remember my friend who, despite being young — or a kid, really, as far as I’m concerned — managed to get “complications from Covid” to the point we almost lost him, and he did a fundraiser to get his business going again (because being incapacitated is expensive.)
He has a lot of pretties for all you fantasy addicted people. (Me? WHY would you think that? Snicker, snicker.)
Go browse.
And if you have a Hun owned business NOT books (Just send those to the Sunday book promo) let us know in comments! We’re all tight on money this year, but if we’re going to support businesses, let’s support our own.
If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo,please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months(unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE.*Note that I haven’t read most of these books (my reading is eclectic and “craving led”,) and apply the usual cautions to buying.– SAH
A BREAK WITH THE RULES ABOVE: DO NOT HESITATE TO BUY SARAH A. HOYT’S BOOKS. THEY ARE ALWAYS EXCELLENT, AND CURE MELANCHOLY AND DEEP SET DESPAIR.* *Void or abridged where forbidden.** **The author DOES NOT HAVE A medical license, and is not impersonating a medical doctor*** ***Given the wide variety of plain silly she’s written in her life, you’d best download a sample first, to make sure it’s your kind of silly and not someone else’s kind of silly. Thanks.
A Dyce Dare Mystery When she was six, Dyce Dare wanted to be a ballerina, but she couldn’t stop tripping over her own feet. Then she wanted to be a lion tamer, but Fluffy, the cat, would not obey her. Which is why at the age of twenty nine she’s dumpster diving, kind of. She’s looking for furniture to keep her refinishing business going, because she would someday like to feed herself and her young son something better than pancakes. Unfortunately, as has come to be her expectation, things go disastrously wrong. She finds a half melted corpse in a dumpster. This will force her to do what she never wanted to do: solve a crime. Life is just about to get crazy… er… crazier. But at least at the end of the tunnel there might be a relationship with a very nice Police Officer.
We hesitate to mention, but this book would obviously make a very good stocking stuffer.
Odd Magics This is a very strange collection of fairytales, recast for modern life. In it the prize isn’t always to the fairest, the magic is rarely to the strongest. But lonely introverts do find love, women who never gave it a thought find themselves at the center of romance. Doing what’s right will see you to the happily ever after. And sometimes you have to kiss an accountant to find your prince.
AND NOW BOOKS BY BRAVE SOULS WHO CHOOSE TO ADVERTISE ON THIS BLOG AND THEREBY ASSOCIATE WITH OUR DISREPUTABLE SELVES!
Odd magic moves in Devon County. Someone is scattering spells in the courthouse. As the year turns to winter, twisted magic stirs, awakened by the mysterious spell caster. Or was it?
Jude Tainuit and his Familiar, Shoim, guard Devon County’s magic users, and others. That is, when Jude isn’t working at the bakery, helping the herb-wife Martha O’Neil, and wincing at his Familiar’s jokes. When Martha makes her claim to a long-abandoned piece of land, dark power moves to stop her.
As mild charm spells become threats, and strange creatures stalk the nights, Jude, Shoim, and their allies struggle to find the source of the trouble. The Hunter in Shadows must act, but how?
Eight fantastic tales of swords, sorcery, love and justice.
The honeymoon is over…. before it even began. Nico and Emie face the biggest decision of their lives, and hope that it won’t kill them.
Cecelia’s dowry is a worthless field, and a friendship begun in a macabre deal.
Soleh fights her way out of a cruel marriage and swears vengeance by the lost gods of a dead clan. She rides with the darkest of companions at her side.
In a breath of air on an unmasked face, the worth of a life is laid bare.
Amaya Lombard faces her past, risking her future, in the very place where her magic was stripped from her blood and bone.
He answered his son’s call for help, but nothing could have prepared him for what his son had done… and expected him to take care of.
The boyar’s son must marry, to save his lands and people. The domovoi bids him wed, but she will only come to him if he fills her every request. Can he swallow his gorge long enough?
Lom rides for the goblin camp, death along the path. His bargain will have a cruel cost…
A Science Fiction Story Bundle from the collection There’s a Sword for That
MONSTERS – Xenoarchaeologist Vartan has promised his young daughter Liza one of the many enigmatic lamedh objects that litter the site of a vanished alien civilization.
No one can figure out what they’re good for, but Liza finds a use for one.
ADAPTABILITY – The Webster Marble Deluxe Woodsman, Model 820-E, has been offline for quite some time. Quite some time indeed.
Good thing Webster has a manual to consult, and a great many special functions.
Captain Michael LaGrange and Damina have been negotiating over their future together since the day they met. Both stubborn, both cautious, neither wants to make a decision either of them will regret. Desire and friendship build into a need they can’t ignore any longer. Unfortunately, duty has to come first and they find themselves on a good will tour prior to the Prince’s wedding. When something goes wrong at an event, they’re forced apart, and into the machinations of a shadowy conspiracy. Kidnapping, injury and a mysterious illness conspire to keep them apart. To get together they’ll have to get away but they’re surrounded by enemies and good allies are hard to find.
Charlotte Fisher lives under colliding skies.It’s the second half of the twenty-first century, and mankind has reached Earth orbit but not much farther. Orbital debris is a by-product of the industrial activity, and it’s dangerous both to everyone up there and the bottom lines of the corporations offering a prize to get rid of it. Charlotte heads up a team chasing the Manx Prize for the first successful, controlled de-orbit of a dead satellite. To win, she and her team must out-think and out-engineer a cheating competitor, dodge a collusive regulator, and withstand the temptations offered by a large and powerful seastead.The sky’s not the limit. It’s the challenge.If you like hard science fiction, impossible odds, and a touch of romance, you’ll love Laura Montgomery’s Manx Prize. Buy Manx Prize to join the race for space today!
Agnes Rawlins would never dream of showing a melancholy face to her brother’s guests. She may be a spinster, and treated little better than any common housekeeper, but she is responsible for bringing Christmas cheer into the dark and rambling Blackheath Manor, and she does not shirk her duty, even when she has little reason to celebrate.
William Marlowe, Viscount Claridge, has reluctantly accepted an invitation to spend the Christmas season at Blackheath. It’s not his first choice- how anyone could wish to spend time in the gloomy manor house is beyond him- but when he meets the kind and gentle lady of the house, he finds that Christmas at Blackheath might not be so bad after all.
He swore he wouldn’t be back while his parents lived…
Now, almost thirty years later, AJ is going home.
Ordered to attend his mother’s funeral in the rugged northern border of the Empire, AJ is baring old wounds to his new wife, and burying familial feuds.
But the past won’t die that easily, and grave secrets will threaten all the survivors and the women they love. Because the Feds are after AJ’s unwanted inheritance…
And they’re willing to risk a war to get their hands on it.
Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.
So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.
We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.
First, being a Derp Canoe, I completely forgot I had a sale on on Dipped Stripped and Dead. Anyway, It’s up…. I think till the 12th, but don’t quote it, and it’s 99c.
Yes, new one is in the works, and honestly, I think I’m getting to the point my health is more reliable, and book will be out …. March-ish?
A Dyce Dare Mystery When she was six, Dyce Dare wanted to be a ballerina, but she couldn’t stop tripping over her own feet. Then she wanted to be a lion tamer, but Fluffy, the cat, would not obey her. Which is why at the age of twenty nine she’s dumpster diving, kind of. She’s looking for furniture to keep her refinishing business going, because she would someday like to feed herself and her young son something better than pancakes. Unfortunately, as has come to be her expectation, things go disastrously wrong. She finds a half melted corpse in a dumpster. This will force her to do what she never wanted to do: solve a crime. Life is just about to get crazy… er… crazier. But at least at the end of the tunnel there might be a relationship with a very nice Police Officer.
The Other THING… Well, I got up late, and I need to assemble some furniture, and unpack some stuff, and finish curtains and setup the Holiday decor, before the neighbors escalate from dirty looks to knocking at the door, so I’m going to share with you a disturbing problem I’m having with someone I share workspace with.
Ahem.
December 3 2022
Dear HR Department of Hoyt Publishing,
I have spent the last year tolerating Inappropriate Displays of Affection at my work place, ranging to being interrupted in my work for a kiss, to being hugged and groped in lunch and recreation space.
Note, since this happens with D. M. Hoyt it’s not so much a complaint, as by way of a brag.
However, I wish to lodge a complaint against our junior co-worker, Mr. Havelock Vetinary Fuzzy Hoyt.
He’s always been mildly inappropriate, in that he tends to jump on my lap and walk across my keyboard while I’m working, as well as walking around my legs screaming if I refuse to stop my work and pay attention to him.
However, recently, he’s developed more disturbing behaviors. To wit, he’s started inappropriately and repeatedly licking me at all times. Mostly he licks my hands, but more recently he’s started licking any portion of me with exposed skin. Since I don’t wish to work in a beekeeper’s outfit, this has become disruptive.
In addition, he has started to pet my face and particularly my lips with his litter-tainted paw, which strikes me as a work-place safety issue, since that paw can’t be clean.
While I understand the limited brain capacity of Mr. Havelock V F Hoyt and all allowances must be made, I request that you approach him and tell him I cannot work under these conditions.
Sincerely,
Sarah A. Hoyt
December 5, 2022
Dear Ms. Hoyt,
We have contacted Mr. Havelock V. F. Hoyt and explained your complaints, to which he tended the following justification: Meow.
Respectfully,
the HR department.
December 7, 2022
Dear H. R. Department,
I very much doubt that Havlock V. F. Hoyt Meowed. He doesn’t know how to meow, and most of the time carefully says “Meow”. I’ll also point out he has an accent and has been known to insert an H in the middle of mehow so it’s actually mee — h — ow.
This has led to suspicions that he’s actually a very small human in a fur suit.
Also, he’s taken to waking me up in the middle of the night, by licking my foot. This is unendurable.
Sincerely,
Sarah A. Hoyt.
December 9, 2022,
Dear Ms. Hoyt,
We’ve investigated your allegations, and regret to inform you Mr. Havelock V. F. Hoyt is in fact a cat, not a tiny human in a fur suit.
His peculiarities appear to derive from the fact he has a brain the size of a walnut, and an over abundance of affectionate disposition. You obviously will have to tolerate him.
Annoyedly,
The H. R. Department.
December 9, 2022
Dear H. R. Department,
Are you sure? Because he’s now taken to half-hiding behind furniture and watching me very intently.
Desperately,
Sarah A. Hoyt.
December 10, 2022
Dear Ms. Hoyt,
Oh, for heaven’s sake.
Is CAT. Cat is Cat. Live with cat. You love cat.
Stop being a neurotic writer.
Dismissively,
The HR Department.
December 10, 2022
Dear H. R. Department,
IS WRITER. Is Neurotic. Can’t stop being writer. You’re more annoying than Havelock V F Hoyt!
At the instigation of Jolie, this is not exactly an open-floor post, but is close to.
She pointed out some things she was doing/we could do to fight back against the idiots in charge, at least insofar as not giving them our money. And asked for ideas.
I’m throwing this open, as well as “How to support our own” without giving a fortune in GiveSendGo, though…. well, it will continue to be a part of my monthly expenditures, as far as I can tell, because the worse things get (and going grocery shopping yesterday scared me, and made me grateful it’s just the two of us, and we’re now 60) the more people we know and love, and the more people on our side will need help. And the less able we’ll be to give it, which also means if we can support them in their endeavors so they don’t need help/as much help, it’s better.
Note that ahah, sure crucifying all the bastages (or putting them up on stakes) or a revolution yes would “surely be fighting back.” But we’re looking for solutions short of and maybe averting that. First because only glowies or idiots plan that kind of thing — or instigate it — in public, and frankly I don’t want to deal with either glowies or idiots. Second because — eyes Kenye West narrowly — if we tip into that, what comes out might call itself “right wing” but will not be the Republic we love or have anything to do with the vision of the founders. So before you think it’s funny, DO NOT POST THAT. It’s not funny and will get me in a snit. And you don’t want me in a snit.
Instead of that, come up with ideas on how we can live as closely as possible adhering to “Not one red penny for the blue” and “Support people who don’t hate us.” AND (very important) how to mitigate the h*ll about to descend on all of us the next few years, particularly for people on our side, who’ve done nothing to deserve this. Yes, the river flood destroys the homes of decent people and b*stards alike. But in this case the b*stards are causing the flood. Let’s build barriers that don’t let the homes of decent people wash away. And no, I’ve got no idea how, but one of you might have.
And while I appreciate — btw — “build alternatives to Amazon” it needs to be more precise than that. One of the things I’d like to do (It needs only getting the person I’ve explained it to to build the site for me, after which TeamHoyt can enter new names) is a website that promotes writers to the right of Lenin. (Without saying that, but it will be at least at a remove run by me, and anyone who wants to associate with us…) By its design, it would be easy to convert into “little stores selling ebooks to the public.” I kind of want to do that with MGC too (I NEED to talk to the website designer, because it would be easier to pay him before end of year) for serialized work.
BUT there should be other models/ideas for that.
I also — note lack of a donation button in top right corner — still need something to replace paypal. For the yearly fundraiser, yes, which I promised my guys I’d do, but also to have the button there, so when I resume serializing and/or doing free shorts on the regular (probably tomorrow, actually) people who come by, are not regular readers, and wish to hit the tip jar can do so. (For that one, I’m almost certainly going to start a permanent GiveSendGo campaign with a ridiculous goal. But I can’t use it for the fundraiser, because they don’t allow the giving of incentives. BTW on that, I AM assembling the USAian collection this weekend. It was delayed by my medicine reaction. ALSO if you want/donated for the personal mentoring, I’ll be in touch with you by end of year. But if you want it earlier, please email one of my emails, and I’ll try to schedule you earlier. Tuckerizations will come too, and those of you who snarkily requested a math death will be in a world of trouble. I’m not sure how, but just you wait.)
ANYWAY — open floor for ideas on how to fight the (ah!) establishment by completely legal means, with our minds, our treasure, and most definitely our sacred honor.
This could frankly be titled “From the dumpster fire’s heart I stab at you.”
We are in a strange place and no mistake. I mean, it’s been said for a long time that we’re in that awkward space when it’s too late to vote them out, but too early to start shooting.
It used to be amusing. Not laughing right now.
Added to that no sane person wants to start shooting, because we know if it ever starts it will make the French Terror look like a teddy bear picnic. And that the left isn’t sane and in their all-consuming lust for power they don’t realize the rest of us aren’t merely holding the worst back, but we are the worst that we’re holding back. And good men tested to the limits of their self-control can break: When tired, when sick, when despairing, when their children cry with hunger. We’re not even talking famine conditions. I don’t think that will happen here (I could be wrong.) It’s “Dad I want dinner” and either there is no money or no supplies for dinner. This is what should keep our supposed betters awake at night, but it doesn’t. Because their cult requires them to believe that the huddled masses long most of all for communism and redistribution.
They also believe that if they break every fire alarm, they’re safe from the fire. So they muzzle us, and they’ve rigged the elections so we can’t punish them. This means they can do what they want, right?
I tell you guys, all the proponents of never swatting or even saying no to your kids created these monsters. They think as long as there’s no immediate retribution — and they never experienced that as kids — there will never be consequences.
Sri Lanka? What’s that? They I bet you have shut their ears to it, and to all the other unpleasant and borderline rebellions against their rule and the rule of their favorites abroad going on all over the world right now.
Because if you don’t hear the alarm, the fire won’t hurt you, right?
So, not laughing. Really not laughing.
More spending the nights awake, wondering what the heck we can do about it, since we can’t vote the bastards out. The impossible — yes, you heard me, impossible — results of 20 and 22 have proven that conclusively.
And… well…. even if it feels like the whole country is high-Colorado timber after three years of drought, nothing will happen till there’s a spark. And then it will be too late to control the fire. Suburbs will burn just as readily as the littered wooded spaces, and the slopes covered in scrub oak.
But I can do nothing — not me personally — I can neither change the course of history nor stop the spark. Nor clean up the timber.
So I wake up screaming. And worry for everyone I love. And pray for a miracle.
But we’re human. We need to do something. Else we lose our minds, and not in a good way. Which adds both to the timber and the probability that what’s left after the fire is not the nation we know and love.
I find some comfort in USAianism. Yes, I know, I created it accidentally, from a joke in DST to suddenly having it hit me in the face in A Few Good Men.
And yes, I know I have a religion already (Thoroughly muddled with another religion through early instruction, which simply makes me as neurotic as a shaved cat.)
But USAianism is more a creed than a religion and plays well with all forms of Judeo Catholicism. (Though, no, I’m not talking to my church about that. They have some ideas that I find disturbing about temporal order, anyway.) All it requires me to believe is that the very existence of the USA is a miracle — look, anyone who knows history knows this — and its continuation despite all the times we’ve “fallen from grace” is almost as miraculous. And since it’s a miracle, I believe Himself intended it. Which frankly, given his preference for giving humans free will to choose makes perfect sense. We might not be absolutely free, but our system, however imperfectly observed gives or for a long time gave the individual more choice than any other. (Regardless of how often individuals choose “wrong.”)
So I comfort myself with rituals and observances. Along side the Christmas tree this weekend we’re putting up a tree of liberty: artificial oak tree. Will have felt around the base and patriotic ornaments.
And I am making cookie cutters in the shape of Hessians. We’ll bite their heads off on Christmas eve. (Think how much fun that would be for kids. And you could tell them the story.) And I’m fasting the last two weeks of advent, because our forefathers starved at Valley Forge. (I refuse to turn off the heat, though, even if they froze at Valley Forge too.) And I will read about the revolutionary war every day.
Yes, you are looking at me like I lost my mind. I didn’t. In fact, it’s sort of a ritual of hope. Embedding the history in ritual and the reasoning for our existence in a creedal matrix means it has a better chance of surviving down the centuries. Which means, even if we go down it won’t be forever. And that’s hope, though cold comfort. (Things my books taught me.)
But that’s “Personal angst management.” It doesn’t have much effect in the world, since right now we don’t have littles to teach the ritual and through it the ideas to.
So what can we do?
Well, I’ve told you before that the winter ahead is going to be hard. And probably the first of several hard winters. Because our government is outright making war on the people. Right now, mostly a war of attrition.
Years ago, during either Obama’s second term, or the covidiocy, or both (I don’t feel like looking) I came up with “Not one red cent for the blue.”
I mean, I used to patronize businesses and artists that I felt deserved to survive regardless of their political color.
But at some point I realized that they NEVER do that for us. They demonize us and tell lies about us. I don’t know how many people have been scared away from my fiction by “racist, sexist, homophobic” but I bet you more than a few, reason being I used to believe those slurs, well before I was published. So, in my twenties.
Most of my books are thoroughly apolitical and non-objectionable for anyone. And no, none of them are racist, sexist and homophobic, unless your reasoning is specious and a bit crazy, honestly. Because I’m not. And it’s really hard to write what you aren’t.
The ones that could be considered political — Dark Ships — mostly concern themselves with the future politics of regimes that don’t exist. And while, yes, my beliefs DO come through, and you can choose to port principles from them to our time, that is not what I was doing. Because I don’t write science fiction to reflect the present. I write science fiction because I like speculating about the future.
And yet, I’m thoroughly blacklisted at every respectable (and some non-respectable) publishing houses, and there are people who would not pick up my books for fear of contagion with forbidden opinions.
Because the left is REALLY GOOD at that. I knew that when I caught them saying that Heinlein — HEINLEIN — was racist, sexist and homophobic. The only justification I could find is that he treated women as being much more worthy than men. But no, that’s not what they meant. They never read him, because they were told what he was. And the left — and innocents — recoiled without reading.
So, I know they cost me business. They cost all of us business. And those of you who are employed have names you use here that no one knows at the work place, or you’d be fired.
The left has no problems with any of this, because they define themselves as “good people” and therefore if you disagree with them, you’re evil. And they have no problems — of course –punishing and destroying the evil.
I used to be much more nuanced than that. I used to think they had any number of useful idiots, and people who SIMPLY didn’t know better. And because of that, I held off and held back, and read their books — even if I had to skip past all the preaching — and bought their stuff.
But right now? Right now, I’m all out of charity. Unless they speak out against the present mess? (And then they become magically “right wing” according to their side) I HAVE NO CHARITY.
So, here we are. Facing hard hard times, and all out of patience.
And I’m going to give you an “Aim small, miss small” way of fighting back. It’s not much, but for many people it might be the difference between survival and not. Because things are about to be close to the bone.
It’s basically the only way I’ve ever taken revenge on anyone. You see, I’m …. lazy. Which weirdly, in my case is a saving grace.
When someone does something directly against me (openly or not) I could plot revenge. But dude. So much work. And I have books to write.
So what I do against those that hurt me? I ignore them. But I remember. Which means, later on? Down the line? When they need a hand up that I could easily give? I ignore them. My answer is something like “oh, noes. How turrible” and then I go my merry way, ignoring them.
I’m going to propose the same, but with a bit added, because we need to survive this winter, and the years ahead.
So…
Not one red cent for the blue; all support to the red.
Look, we can’t afford NOT doing some business with the blue model. I have to do business with Amazon, for the same reason I have to do business with the atmosphere and gravity. What’s my other option?
Same applies to some food and supplies, and to services like paypal, which I still can’t cancel, become some editors still pay me that way on royalties for stories sold years ago.
This is not going to be a clean break or super-perfect.
So….
What it means is that if there is a choice? I’ll buy from our side. If there is a choice of an artist to promote, a writer to pimp, a restaurant to patronize, a handyman to hire? I’ll buy from our side, I’ll push our side, I’ll patronize our side.
Now I’m not asking you to consume crap, just to buy/support our side. The left does that, and it’s led by degrees to all the stuff they sell/do being crap. Because quality stopped mattering.
But will I preferentially read an indie SF series from our side, ignoring the occasional typo, to the highly hyped, carefully set up story pushed by the majors and written by some red-diaper blue violet? Oh, you bet your sweet *ss I will. If the story is still good, supporting our own makes me feel better.
But Sarah, you’ll say I don’t often know the politics of my handyman, my mechanic, my restaurant owner.
No. And it’s not going to be perfect. But a little discrete investigation won’t kill you, either. You unfortunately these days can suss up anyone’s politics with a five minute talk or a five minute internet search.
Again, I’m not calling for perfection. Yeah, all of us have that friend we love who is wobbly at best. Or that vegetarian hippie restaurant we adore (Not since Charlotte 30 years ago, but yeah.)
What I’m saying is, when you can, offer support to our people. When possible, buy from our own. When you can make it work, shun those who hate us and want us to eat bugs.
It’s not much. But it might make a difference between some of us surviving and not.
Before we start this here session, let me point out I decided to vote for Trump in 2016 the night before election day. I did it after earnest talks by both Jerry Pournelle and L. Neil Smith and partly because those two agreeing was such a jaw-dropping shock, I couldn’t fight it too well. (Tips hat to two friends now in the eternal SF convention hall.)
But still the only reason I chose Trump in that election is because he was judged less likely to have me shot in the back of the head. (Note not completely unlikely, but less likely.)
The way he governed, despite being hampered by credentialed people convinced that they knew better, was a welcome surprise. He did great things for the economy, and he got the Abraham accounts signed. Yeah, covidiocy. And that gives me some pause. But considering the other side did it harder, crazier, the only thing I can suspect is that Trump was in cahoots with him, and if he was, then the way they’re still attacking him is even crazier than I thought.
Anyway, in 2020 I voted for him with no regrets. And I still don’t have any regrets. (Anyone who swallowed the whole “called for insurrection” has been swallowing soma by the fistful. Frankly, he’d have been justified in. He didn’t. The left, conscious of their fraud and terrified of the citizenry (note the barriers and under-guard inauguration) have made a mountain out of a molehill).)
However… Well, I won’t say I don’t like Trump. I like Trump the President. I hated Apprentice. And the man is still way too much of a believer in government (or was while in the white house) for my tastes. However, for a President, not bad.
Which doesn’t mean I’m a fan, or involved in some cult of personality. Right now, I prefer Trump to DeSantis because, seemingly unlike the rest of my colleagues I see the underhanded (via surrogates) DeSantis provocation. I know Trump brought it to the public. But that’s his style. He fights in public. As another hothead, I empathize. And DeSantis. Well, only one thing against him. He’s a career politician. And I’ve had enough of those for a lifetime. Yeah, if he’s nominated, I’ll vote for him. For all the good voting does at this point. And why I think arguing Trump versus DeSantis is BS.
However, I think it’s really important for the right not to turn on Trump. The man gave up on a private career and lost money to be President. And we’re going to turn on him? Why will anyone else put him or herself out for us? The left lionizes even their failures. So, you know, sure, we’ll attract good people with that differential.
ALL THAT SAID, I DON’T KNOW TRUMP PERSONALY. THE ONLY PERSON ON WHOM I HAVE ALMOST A CULT OF PERSONALITY CRUSH IS ROBERT A. HEINLEIN. AND EVEN HE I HAVE SEVERE DISAGREEMENTS WITH. SO, CAN YOU STOP MAKING ME DEFEND TRUMP.
Does Sinal Salute, with thumb and forefinger on either side of her nose, head inclined.
So help me, peeps! You keep doing this to me, and I’m so many levels of not happy. But here I go again.
In Trump’s Defense:
I got really tired of everyone posting how Trump wanted to discard the Constitution, after he posted this on Truth Social:
There are many ways to look at what he’s saying, but the one that made absolute sense to me was this: EVERYONE who had half a brain knew there was a serious problem with the 2020 election. EVERYONE, including the courts who said no one had standing to question it, no crime had been committed till it was certified and after it was certified, well, there was nothing we could do.
The fact is that there was an enormous issue with the voting but the entire establishment rolled over by the rules and said “We can’t do anything”. And a living dead zombie was sworn in despite the clear will of the people against it. Which …. whatever. I do realize we’ve had fraud even massive fraud before. But — that I can figure out — it was never to swear in someone who is a puppet, compromised by foreign governments and determined to destroy America by doing everything he can to dismantle us. This has been done to states before: Colorado for instance, and most recently Nevada. But it’s never been done to the entire country. We’ve never had someone throw the borders open to invasion ignoring the most important constitutional duty he should be fulfilling. Or destroy our oil industry in order to destroy the economy. Or give weapons to those who declare themselves at war with us. Or– The list goes on. Including most recently trying to nullify the 1st amendment by various means.
So — yeah, there was fraud, massive. The Constitution is being ignored. And there is no Constitutional remedy for this.
It’s not that the Founders didn’t anticipate this. It’s that the remedy for it is found in the Declaration of Independence. And frankly it’s a remedy all of us with a half a wit are praying we don’t have to employ.
Is Trump calling for that remedy? No. Because he’s sane enough he also doesn’t want it. What is he calling for? New Elections. Keep in mind this is quixotic and borderline stupid, because unless we had elections by “occupied country rules” — ie. the rules of countries WE occupied and forced elections on — meaning, one day voting, paper ballots, public ballot counting, purple fingers, the results will be MORE fraud. And they’ve managed to perfect it, as we saw in 2022.
But is that what people are saying. No. People are saying “Hey, to have elections again, would LITERALLY kill the constitution.” Yeah, b*tch. That’s a real danger. Looks over at the bleeding corpse of the Constitution, while the Junta stabs it repeatedly.
What this country has suffered is what’s known as a “color revolution.” The revolutionaries come in not with tanks and guns, but under the cover of legalism. Using our own mechanisms to hamstring us. If you ignore the fact of the MASSIVE fraud, everything was done by the book.
Because the American people totally voted by the people who wanted to bring in the Green New Deal. Of course, those were the American people who did same day registration many to addresses that don’t exist, or voted without ID, because in America you can do everything without ID from opening bank accounts to cashing checks to receiving welfare, or boarding planes. They were Americans who voted only on the races important for Democrats, in votes it took days after the elections to find. And the most Americanny Americans again were those that live as bits and bites in the heart of voting machines that are hackable, unverifiable, and connected to the internet. Oh, and created by a company used to rig other elections around the world. THOSE are the bestest Americans.
And given that, of course, everything was done by the book. Because by the book is far more important than the fact that de-facto enemies of our form of government are trying to destroy us more or less openly, because what are we going to do? By the rules?
So yeah, what Trump said was stupid, but not because he called to discard the constitution. He didn’t. But because he called for new elections, when the elections are now thoroughly rigged.
However what did all my colleagues on the right do? “Trump wants to discard the Constitution.”
And I have sympathy, kind of, with the friend who was like “why can’t he be clearer.” But the fact is, as used to be the rule on the blogs long ago: There is no way you can say things in a way that won’t be misunderstood. Particularly when everyone wants to misunderstand you. Remember when they outright elided things he said to get that he’d called Nazis “good people”? Yeah, good times, that.
Now is he the most punctilious speaker? No. New Yorker, and having been — or passed as — left most of his life, he never had to police his words. It’s the habit of a lifetime. Besides, honestly, this is the guy who thinks Biggly is a word. He’s not a word person.
Yes, he could have a word person vet his stuff. We do remember that even now he’s surrounded by people willing to sell him for gotchas, right? And FYI everyone in his position will be. Remember the left selling people on Ford being clumsy? yeah.
Now would I volunteer to vet his word stuff? Hell yes. I’d take the job in a minute to be his “word interface with the world” — other than typos — and by saying that I don’t mean I WANT that job. It would destroy my life and my family’s life, and put an end to my writing career, which is the thing I wanted since I was six. BUT right now, it might be the best thing I can do for this country. And I love this country. But let’s be honest, no one is going to pick the weird girl blogger for that, and I’d probably talk back too much for his taste (or anyone’s taste.) So, whatevs. Do I trust anyone else? Well, some of you. But…. again, no one is going to tap us for this.
And if I vetted his word stuff, would he still say “appalling” things? Well, dudes, the left managed to get it out in the world that I’m homophobic and sexist. That means there is no way to speak that the left, and their right wing dupes won’t distort.
So… I have no solution, other than, stop jumping to the positions the left wants you to take. Another reason not to turn on Trump is that the left WANTS you to. And when have they wanted anything that was good for the right? Are you people simple?
And speaking of simple: remember when Trump let the country get paralyzed by covidiocy because he respected local rule? Some person to call for the erasing of the Constitution. That’s TOTES believable. Do I need a sarcasm tag? Stop jumping on this stuff like a cat on a shaken string. ARE YOU SIMPLE? Are you using only your cerebellum?
Now, one of my friends, who is one of the most brilliant people I know, saw this in a much simpler light “He’s not saying to ignore the constitution. He’s saying what happened and the blatant fraud allowed the Junta to ignore the constitution.”
He’s not wrong.
Another friend went at somewhat more length:
“
The thing people are, apparently deliberately, missing with regard to ‘termination … even those found in the Constitution’?
It is correct to say that the current mess is a failure mode that the constitution does not fully anticipate.
Strictly speaking, it is a failure mode where the constitution conflicts with the constitution.
The handwringing over Trump proposing a set of remedies that /includes/ remedies that conflict with the constitution is nonsensical when these same people were silent about other things actually done that were in violation of the constitution.
The January Sixth hearings, and attempts to impeach Trump, were about allegations that would have obviously had a defensibly constitutional reading had they actually occurred.
Every time a congress man alleged an insurrection, they offer evidence that Trump would have been potentially justified in a use of force, if he had not refrained from using force.
Trump had the executive power, under the constitution, and was charged to see laws duly enforced.
Election laws were flagrantly and blatantly not enforced, as part of a coordinated campaign of lawlessness (Covid lockdown), that happened to be coordinated with the most concentrated domestic terror campaign in forty years.
Trump was peacefully complaining, and asking for remedy, in courts and in congress.
The legislature is assigned the legislative power, with caveats. The judiciary is assign the judicial power, with caveats. The executive power is not so limited by clauses, in my recollection of reading it.
The limit of the executive power under the constitution is that it must be necessary under the responsibilities, and only be something that the executive can remedy.
It was under this theory that Lincoln’s actions can at all be legitimate, under the theory that the state of insurrection, and of laws not being duely enforced, and not suitable to remedy by the courts, so authorized and required him to act.
The presidency is explicitly given powers to act in an actual insurrection.
The Republican establishment has mainly been silent on this point. They can go to hell.
The current congress, serving federal officials, has on the record thereby blatantly made statemetns that conflcit with the constitution.
Folks for whom someone not formally in office making statements is a deal breaker, who were silent about congress, can have a sit down and think.
Despite what the constitution says, leaving the Presidency and congress vacant while the courts hear the arguments, and decide on the evidence and merits of the arguments, might have been reasonable.
Despite what the constitution says, redoing the election, might have been reasonable.
Forcing the situation forward merely established a state of affairs where elections are no longer binding. Quite a lot of people talking about this social media post can take their opinions, and choke on them.”
You know, he’s not wrong. But none of us wants that ultimate, exposed solution. NONE OF US WANTS war if there’s any other option at all.
Thing is, we’re running out of options, and jumping like catnip addled cats whenever the left waves the string, is not going to save us. No, another election, unless under great and careful measures, wouldn’t do much either.
Trump is wish casting. As right now we all are. Because we’re trying to avoid the solution of the Declaration of Independence.
It will take a miracle. Pray for a miracle.
Meanwhile, what did Trump mean?
Well, the man himself clarified it:
And I’m now done with defending Trump. DON’T MAKE DO THAT AGAIN. Do you know how many showers I have to take now?
I’ll be in my room praying for America. Even though, heaven help me, I don’t have great faith, I’m going to pray for a miracle.
But the first miracle I want is for people ostensibly on my side to stop being easily led. Please. I’m begging you. I realize we’re all social apes, but for once, please channel your inner goat.
We need a miracle.
Because the alternative to the miracle is unspeakably hard and the butcher’s bill is world-breaking.
Hey remember that time when the USSR policed typewriters so you couldn’t produce Samizdat fast enough?
Copiers and fax machines? Forget about it. That was the break through tech they couldn’t control anymore, and as people started sharing impressions, news and ideas — at the same time that Ronald Reagan of Blessed Memory was putting the economic screws on them by refusing to shut down our defense industry — the USSR’s empire of lies (probably more lies than anything true, ever) melted away like spun sugar in hot tea.
But the cartoon characters who think themselves the “ruling class” of the US (while being merely the inconveniences we’ll tolerate until they become intolerable) think they can shove us back to their ideal age of media and narrative control by putting up a law that only lets “licensed” journalists report the news.
For the next move, they’re going to make it so that only licensed “authors” can write fiction.
At which point you’re sitting there and wondering “Are they for real now?”
Yeah, so am I.
The problem is not that they think we’re Chinese peasants. The problem is that they think we’re imaginary Chinese peasants. You know, the ones that the PRC portrays as jumping to every order and complying without a peep.
Even the Chinese don’t do that; it’s just we don’t hear of their rebellions. And compared to Americans they have almost no resources and certainly not technological resources for rapid information dissemination.
For the Russians, typewriters, copiers, and faxes were the killing blow. We have computers and printers. And before you say anything, even Venezuela has electricity, even if intermittent.
They can go ahead and make their laws. And they will inconvenience us majorly. And, to be fair piss us off.
What they can’t do is put the toothpaste back in the tube.
Oh, they’re going to try. And it’s going to be a terrible inconvenience.
But in the end — in the end — yeah, we can lose, but not to them. Because they can’t win. And we’ll never lose completely while we’re still fighting.
I’ve reached the stage of life where memory of certain past events is fluid and uncertain. By past events I mean things that happened before I got married.
This is startling, because until very recently I could name all 34 or so of my form classmates in eighth grade, and it came as a great shock to realize I no longer could even remember most of their faces. Of the dross of the past I remember maybe 10, who distinguished themselves in some way, good or bad. Virginia — a very unusual name in Portugal — who was a red head, with waist-long hair, and so shy she never talked in class, and mostly laughed at our most outrageous antics. The two Jewish kids and the Protestant kid, because the four of us were excused from Religious Education and had the equivalent of home room together. I have a vague idea we once tried to write a book together, but I don’t remember. (Uh? Well, I was excused because I got in huge arguments, until dad signed the papers to excuse me. I’m sure that shocks you about young Sarah.)
But while I remember standing, holding up half of a banner in front of machine-gun pointing soldiers, because it was a stark way of realizing my own mortality and then realizing on the heels of that there are things worth dying for, I am no longer sure of the details. For instance, while I remember taking the train in, I have no idea how we got home. But I was startled when mom told me — when I mentioned it in a phone call the other day — that staid middle aged men fought for the honor to drive us home. I…. what? You’d think I’d remember, right? And you’d think mom who is as paranoid as I am would not accept rides from strangers.
But further back, early teen years? It’s all a haze. There are people I remember unpleasantly and I think I know why, but I’m also aware some incidents have bled together, and that some things I remember other people doing, I might very well have done, and vice versa. Why? Well, because our memory is organic.
People who have done research have found every time you retell a memory you layer something on it. In many ways all our lives are the Iliad. Each teller who tells it adds something, even if all the tellers are you.
The bizarre thing, though, is going through our family pictures from our thirties, and having pictures of people we cannot identify now. At some point, we knew these people enough to have them at our house, and to have taken a picture, but we could not, now, under torture, tell you their names.
I will admit that most of those are probably people we saw once or twice. Friends of friends who came to our massive fourth of July parties (often getting close to 100 attendees) or people we liked but only saw a few times. Or simply people we don’t remember looking like that. This is entirely possible, because when looking through the pictures, I was startled at how young our friends and we looked. I never remember us looking like that in our thirties.
So, what does this tend to other than “I’m old. I don’t remember things.” (I will point out I remember most important things, and that my memory of day to day is great. It’s more things that happened twenty years ago, that — while mostly remembered — have lost their details. The only real “I’m old” things is the fact I will now call my husband’s name, and every cat name, including dead cats, before I call the son I’m trying to talk to.)
It means that… oh, brother, our collective memory is worse than that. And a lot of it was shaped by well…. the fairly uniform narrative that has been the mass news-entertainment complex for the last going on 100 years, which was largely informed by the fact that story creators like just so stories and had become convinced that Marx’s self-contained, illogical pocket universe was the truth.
And some of the stuff we believe in the back of our minds was shaped by things that happened before we were born, or things people were told before we were born. Or one-line in our history books in high school. Or–
Today someone used “the evil party and the stupid party” and it was one of those that kicked me.
If you guys are going to go with that, you’ll have to explain to me how the evil party isn’t stupid. And if you’re going to say “they always win”, no, they don’t. On guns we’ve been pushing them back step by step for several decades. Homeschooling, they committed a major own-goal with the lockdowns, and I suspect the extent to which people are either homeschooling or homeschooling after school is much larger than what we’ve heard. What they’re doing to the economy is not really intentional. Sure, they think America needs to be humbled, etc. But they also have no idea how shithole the shithole countries are, and at some level they’re convinced if they say block all our routes to fossil fuels, we’ll automagically develop that sustainable energy they dream about.
In fact, guys, the level of their stupidity is that they’re trying to follow a plan dreamed up by Occasional Cortex, who thinks we should ask “Native Americans for ideas on how to live in harmony with the environment.” That’s a three year old raised on Disney level of understanding history. AND MOST OF THEM BELIEVE THIS TOO.
So am I saying they’re both the stupid party? Largely.
Look, there are several things at work here. The people in power now were raised shortly after FDR turned the country into a centralized, top-down polity. More, this was praised in every classroom. And the rest of the world was also falling into this. It was “rule by experts” and “scientific rule” and “Don’t you little people worry none, the world-brains have got this.” To the extent there were victories scored (Against other countries that embraced this model even harder.) it reinforced their perception this was the way we should be.
As people age — and have you looked at the left side of the isle recently? Not that the right is much better. I count as a youngster compared to both sets — it’s harder and harder to change the world model in their heads. It might be easier for me, because at heart, and carefully controlled I’m a revolutionary, always waiting to storm the castle, just because castles p*ss me off. Yes, my spirit animal is Samuel Vimes. And yes, the only reason I don’t do terrible stuff is that I watch myself all the time. But this means out of an excess of paranoia, I scrutinize every model I’m given, and never swallow any of them fully. My main thought is always “Yes, but then again, no.” Or the other way around, of course. The only models I more or less believe are those I arrive at with mule-like stubbornness, and can go “No, because this this this this.” (Hence my belief that fraud is massive and also that we’re now in the funny position — population wise — of expecting imaginary women to give birth. It doesn’t work, trust me, I have several of them in my head, and when they give birth the kids remain in my head, and don’t become real. Sad really.)
Anyway, politicians in general are sociable people of the consensus. That’s how they get elected.
So the model of the world in their heads — left and right — is largely upgefucked. It would be even if they weren’t: Screwed around with by the media and their changing narrative
AND
Screwed around with by the fact that they are in DC and therefore live in a bubble, where no one tells them the truth.
This is worsened by the fact the left has been stomping on dissenting voices for… well, my whole life. Though they used to cancel us quietly, and are only now becoming in your face. And by the fact that social media has deliberately skewed things so the country appears to be mostly far left.
Look, politicians know that they rule by the consent of the governed. This was true as far as the Middle Ages (and probably before, but if I go investigate, I’ll never pop up again.) when divine right of kings or not, there were guilds, councils, etc. for every polity, faction and profession. And oooh, boy, would they get antsy if ignored.
It takes late stage stupidity for them to try to do what our “ruling class” (pfui) thinks they’re doing: completely rigging the system so the same people win forever, no matter how pissed the people are at them. (Again, if you think fraud doesn’t matter, you haven’t taken in the full panorama of opportunities for fraud, from same day registration, to vote by mail, to rigged machines. Or you perhaps think it’s a mystery these always favor democrats. Or maybe you think democrats are angels. And if you think both sides do it, you’ve fallen into the trap of “the USA AND THE USSR ARE THE SAME LEVEL OF EVIL” (Which at one time caused me to go over a table at one of our best friends, and would probably have strangled him, if my husband hadn’t caught me in time.) Sure, “truth is in the middle.” and you know what else “The Brooklyn Bridge is a great buy, and I can sell it to you today.”)
Why is that stupid? Because it always ends in tears. Always. Throughout history, even in the middle ages, when a king dissolved the people’s “advisory” groups and tried to rule on his own, out of his “superior” wisdom, it meant they were in for a hard as h*ll landing.
It might be blood and revolution. Or it might be a lot of little outbreaks, and bleeding out, and eventually chasing the king with troops, until he was dead or fled, and then you got yourself a king with a little bit more of a clue.
Now some of these took a few centuries. And some…. didn’t. And history like communications goes faster now.
So, why are they doing it?
Well, part of it because the national and world memory is shot. Like an aged person, what they remember is not necessarily what happened. In fact, it’s often the opposite. And the picture they have of the country in their minds is already so corrupted by fraud, both of reporting and of voting, that they genuinely believe the future belongs to the left.
Both sides believe this. Partly because the left has stomped on anyone who stepped out of line forever.
Worse, they both believe the blue model is only failing because it’s not authoritarian enough. Look at China. They’ve been told China is doing great — AND THEY BELIEVE IT — and they’re a lot more authoritarian.
This while the authoritarian, top-down, center-out model is failing on every front and all over the world.
People, I’m getting old and some incidents from my younger years are fuzzy. For instance, I have no idea who actually locked the new biology teacher in the closet, much less who had the idea and instigated it. It was probably not me, but would I put my hands in the fire about it? Oh, heck, no. I mean, me at 14 was sufficiently different from me now that I don’t know how the young twerp thought enough to figure out what she was likely to have done.
BUT our country is worse than that. Because it’s as though people had been telling it bullshit stories, and intentionally corrupting our national/historical/world memory and understanding.
It won’t work, because what they’re trying to overlay has no contact with reality. But it makes it very hard to understand, sometimes, that the model they’re pushing on us of what just happened, and why is not only wrong, but upside down, sideways wrong. And wearing a clown nose.
Our saving grace is that reality keeps rearing its hard head. “No, you can’t live on unicorn farts.” “Yep, if you suppress oil production, fuel costs will go through the roof.” “No, you can’t lock down the entire country and still somehow be prosperous.” etc etc etc.
And therefore, those of us who have been fed on pap keep seeing the truth behind the lies.
Can we change things enough to avoid the hard landing that shutting down dissenting voices always brings?
I don’t know. Shake the magic eight ball again.
Situation cloudy and with a chance of waking up screaming in the middle of the night.
The only thing I know is that they can’t win. Stupid and evil combined is not survivable.
It remains to find out if we can find our way through the labyrinth enough that we also don’t lose.
That I can’t tell you. But I’ll keep on trying to find threads of reason, of fact, of history and following those.
Lo, there might be some light ahead. If we’re all very lucky, it’s not an oncoming train..
*We interrupt this promo post for some amazing news. Just as I was about to give up and had already decided I would go to the doctor to see why the cough wasn’t stopping after a week, it stopped. I mean, there’s still a little insignificant dry cough, but I …. slept. This being so, and my being so tired last night that I was maybe minutes away from the sort of hallucination that starts a world-religion, I slept for a little over twelve hours, and have been taking care of the “must do” that went undone for over a week. So, sorry this is late, but I’m actually awake for the first time in over three weeks. We now return to your scheduled book promo and vignettes. -SAH*
Book promo
If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo,please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months(unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE.*Note that I haven’t read most of these books (my reading is eclectic and “craving led”,) and apply the usual cautions to buying.– SAH
AN ERRANT CHILD WITH DISASTROUS POWERS AND NO ONE TO STAND IN HER WAY.
Penrys, the wizard with a chain and an unknown past, is drafted to find out what has happened to an entire clan of the nomadic Zannib. Nothing but their empty tents remain, abandoned on the autumn steppe with their herds.
This wasn’t a detour she’d planned on making, but there’s little choice. Winter is coming, and hundreds are missing.
The locals don’t trust her, but that’s nothing new. The question is, can she trust herself, when she discovers what her life might have been? Assuming, of course, that the price of so many dead was worth paying for it.
Olivia Markham lives a complicated life. By day, she is a star CIA officer working a cover as a graduate student in Vienna. By night, she is a self-appointed, kick-ass superhero wearing a harlequin’s hood and wielding a wicked bō.
Life is about to get more complicated.
The sexual predator that Olivia tracks one July evening to Vienna’s Stadtpark calls himself Asmodeus, a demon’s name. Olivia doesn’t care what he calls himself. She’s just there to save an innocent young woman. What Olivia doesn’t know is that Asmodeus has followers he calls bogomili after an ancient sect of believers. She suddenly finds herself fighting to save her own life against these vicious, soulless creatures whose mission is to release souls from the bonds of a corrupt world.
Across the Stadtpark another hears Olivia’s battle with the bogomili. He is a drangùe, a powerful warrior with supernatural abilities who is duty bound to save innocents from Asmodeus. This drangùe will stop at nothing to defeat his age-old enemy—even if it means risking everything to bring Olivia into his world. A world in which the drangùe has his own cover identity. He has good reason to distrust this beautiful young woman who hides secrets that could get him killed or worse…. But the drangùe must keep Olivia close in order to stay one step ahead of Asmodeus. The only problem is that the closer he keeps her, the more the drangùe wants to keep Olivia in his life. And that is not part of his long-term battle plans.
For a man pushing into his thirties without a love life, Shadowloves, the lushest of singles resorts, offers the promise of finding once again The One and Only from whom he parted years ago. But once he has found her, will she ever let him go?
The starship Valerie Hall failed to reach the terraformed world of its original destination. Instead, it found a habitable substitute where the settlers split into two factions. First Landing devolved into a rude replica of medieval despotism. Seccon might promise more.
Or so hope Gilead Tan and his companions.
Gilead spent three centuries in cold sleep, held there by a First Landing custom that decreed only one sleeper could be awakened every fifty years. Once awake, Gilead freed two dozen of his fellows—all soldiers like himself—and led them into the wilderness.
Close to two hundred civilians still lie trapped in the decaying cryo-cells of First Landing. Their captive slumber haunts him.
But despite its vaunted freedom, Seccon has one rule. No one goes back to First Landing.
This booklet is an edited collection of the pamphlets published throughout the month of November. It covers the ever-worsening times we live in nowadays because our rulers demand it. As always, it covers current events with some observations of leftism and tyranny, with a bit of pop culture here-and-there.
We need a resistance movement more than ever. That’s basically what I’ve been aiming for in all the books so-far and it’s not going to stop until I do and so does everyone else
Private eye Edmond Clive had seen a lot in his time, but when he took on a poison pen case, hired by a rich bitch from a highly dysfunctional family to find out who was sending letters darkly hinting about her husband’s past, he hardly expected to get dragged kicking and shooting into a maelstrom of murder and treachery.
• This iktaPOP Media edition includes a new introduction giving historical context to the novel and Brackett’s career.
Tommy Parks followed his father over the mountain ridge with a blind faith and love. But his father hadn’t counted on the last winter storm. Now twelve-year old Tommy was alone, in the frontier wilderness, with only his wits and the remains of his father’s supplies to survive against nature, grizzly bears, and the most dangerous creature of all — man!
This iktaPOP Media edition includes a new introduction and afterword giving genre and historical context to the novel.
*D, Jason Fleming would like to disclaim any attempt to edit giants of the field. Let it be know by editing I meant only removal of artifacts of scanning the stories in, or perhaps catching some errors introduced by the original editors (which does happen, occasionally, in pulp.)
Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.
So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.
We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.
According To Hoyt 