At the end of September, I sent the manuscript for Climbing High: Speculative Stories of Female Ambition to Flame Tree’s editorial team.
It’s the culmination of several months of work so far. The creative high point of a year in which other projects were delayed.
And it’s a collaborative project, my first time editing an anthology of stories for a publisher. Several writers have contributed short stories (and, in one case, an introduction) to the project.
Reading through the copyedits feels like looking down from the top of a hill.
View from the Pnyx in Athens. Note to self: editing an anthology called Climbing High apparently makes you more likely to climb hills…
There are further steps to go through before this book is out in the world, but I’m proud of the form the collection is taking and the work we’ve all put into it.
How do you feel when you finish something? Do you take time to recognize the effort, to let yourself breathe and your nervous system sense “this is done”?
Events I’ve Enjoyed This Month
Between my own work toward a finish line, I’ve enjoyed seeing others’ events come to fruition recently.
My friend Rachael Twumasi-Corson gave a talk at the TEDx Bromley event at the beginning of the month. The theme was Defying Expectations, and the talks covered everything from the power of rebels to the importance of patient self-advocacy to the transferable leadership skills that mothers bring to the workplace. These powerful talks will be online soon, and I’d encourage you to check them out.
I went to local author and presenter David Bramwell’s monthly event, the Catalyst Club, where speakers give engaging talks about their passions, no matter how niche. There’s also a bit of cabaret-style performance. This month’s topics included a “museum of unfinished projects” (relatable!), a birthday poem, and the stories of people who made penpal connections through old music magazines.
Some of you might remember my work on Joan: The Musical in the Brighton Fringe last year. Our lead actress’s daughter, Faradena Afifi, is one of the founders of the Noisy Women multi-disciplinary creative group. I attended their performance at the Rotunda Cafe, which was a fun, chaotic blend of music, improvisation, poetry, movement, and more. Well worth seeing, and lots of fun!
Lastly, the Coast Is Queer, the UK’s biggest LGBTQ+ literary festival, just finished up yesterday with a brilliant conversation between Sarah Waters and Julia Armfield (pictured below). I always come back from this festival’s talks with more insights, not to mention more books, than I’d expected!
I appreciate bringing projects over the finish line, and witnessing others’ work can afford the perspective needed to get them done. I’m nourished by community and inspired by what others can do.
What do you find helpful for reaching that final stretch of creative work?
Happy Spring! I have two pieces of news this month.
First (I finally get to announce this), I’m editing an anthology for Flame Tree’s Beyond & Within series. Those are beautiful books with shiny covers and exciting new stories. You may remember me sharing some pictures of them earlier.
Women’s ambition is not always welcomed, let alone encouraged. Speculative fiction is a context that offers other possibilities (and worlds), where writers and readers imagine what could be. Climbing High: Speculative Stories of Female Ambition will feature stories exploring contexts where female ambition is treated differently, aspiration and achievement in the face of adversity, and ambitions that extend beyond what’s possible in our contemporary world. This anthology takes an empowering stance of embracing ambition while being unafraid to explore the costs and consequences that characters may face in doing so and the impacts of ambitions pursued or fulfilled.
Stories may engage with the question of navigating disparate values and commitments (the often-asked and often-sexist question of “How do you balance x and y?”), or they may abandon all that, with characters who prioritise their desires above all else. Whether characters are reshaping the world(s), themselves, or aiming to brew the best cup of tea, their drives are the driving force of their stories. Contributors may feel free to question assumptions or norms related to women or gender while they’re at it. Authors are encouraged to explore spaces between representation and aspiration and be as bold as they like in imagining what could be.
This will be a fascinating new anthology for our Beyond & Within series. We’re looking for around four stories to join the selection curated by Melanie Bell!
Melanie Bell is a Canadian writer living in the UK. Her books include a poetry collection, The Heart Decided to Move; a YA novel, Chasing Harmony; a short story collection, Dream Signs; and a nonfiction book, The Modern Enneagram, co-authored with Kacie Berghoef. Her novella The Cliffman was included in the literary horror collection Hard for Hope to Flourish, and one of her stories is featured in the Whispers in the Earth illustrated anthology of world folklore.
Melanie and Hannah Doyle co-wrote Joan: The Musical which was performed in the Brighton Fringe in May 2025. Her short plays have appeared onstage at the Tower Theatre and Barons Court Theatre in London, on Morley College Radio, and in Liverpool’s 24 Hour Play Fest. She loves art, music, wondering and wandering.
Multiple submissions are fine but must be in separate emails.
Simultaneous submissions are fine but you must have the right to license your story in an anthology.
Stories that used AI for planning, editing, modifying or generating text will not be accepted. Please declare in your submission email if you have used AI in any way.
For accepted stories we pay Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) rates of 8 cents/6 pence per word for original stories.
We will aim to read each story and confirm its status within 4 months of the submission deadline.
Payment for the chosen stories will be made within 30 days of the final advertised publication date (see our website flametreepublishing.com for details), although some may be paid earlier than that.
Submission does not imply the right to publication. Each story will be read and assessed by the selection panel.
Please only submit unpublished/original/new stories for consideration. Reprints will not be accepted for consideration through this submissions route.
We’re always looking for better ways of working so we’ve tweaked our submission process to allow us to read more stories, and spend more time assessing the balance of our books.
Submissions must use the dedicated email address.
The subject line of the email must be the story title.
The file with the story must be attached to the email (.docx, .doc or .rtf format).
The name of the file must match the name in the subject line.
If submitting more than one story, please submit one story per email.
Other useful tips for a more successful submission:
The file name of the submission must be the story name only.
Please just use spaces between words in the title (not _ or – ).
If the story name starts with A or The, please use it at the beginning of the file name.
Story length is most likely to be successful at 2000–4000 words, but we will still read stories slightly outside this range.
If submitting a story that has recently been submitted to us for consideration to another anthology, please state this in the submission email.
Deadline for submissions is 3rd May 2026.
This is what the anthologies look like!
Literary Tea Salon With Bird & Blend Tea Co.
Here’s another collab I’m excited for! Bird & Blend Tea Co. is my favourite local tea shop. Their products are high quality and delicious. If you’re based in the UK, their shops offer free tastings and are well worth a visit, and they sell online as well.
So, while sampling some tea at the shop, I suggested a literary event, and the Bird & Blend team was interested in hosting one this spring. Here are the details for our Literary Tea Salon on May 11:
Join local author Melanie Bell and Bird & Blend Tea Co. for writing exercises, an author reading, and a book-themed tea tasting.
Monday, May 11 from 6:30 pm to 8:30 pm
Literary Tea Salon
Join us for a cosy, bookish evening blending two good things – writing and tea!
Local author Melanie Bell will lead participants in some creative exercises, read from her work, and answer questions about the writing process, while the Bird & Blend team will offer a selection of their literary-themed teas to taste.
Location
Bird & Blend Tea Co.
41 Gardner Street Brighton and Hove BN1 1UN
Hosted in Bird & Blend’s flagship Brighton store, come along alone, with a loved one or in a group…all are welcome!
The store is fully accessible to customers in wheelchairs with NCP parking nearby. Please note there is no customer toilet on site but there is a wheelchair accessible toilet available in a nearby venue. We can tailor our experience to most disabilities – just let us know when booking.
Hi all! I recently spent time traveling around northern England, ending my trip in Chester for a writing retreat with the British Fantasy Society (or BFS).
Shopping in Chester’s city center
I’ve been on a couple of longer writing retreats previously, in France and Kenya. Were they an excuse to go cool places? Maybe…
This one was over a long weekend (four days total, including coming and going) and a bit closer to home. I really enjoy the BFS’s programs and was excited to be allocated a spot at the retreat this year. The organization is professional and participants are serious about their craft, while attendees at the other retreats I went to varied more in the focus of their writing endeavors.
We stayed at the Queen at Chester Hotel. Below are some photos of the staircase and garden.
Attendees had a conference room to write in. We sat around a big table, coming and going as our energy permitted, typing intently while drinking tea and coffee from the side table. Usually, we went for dinner as a group. One evening, we shared readings from completed writing or works in progress. The quality of the work was outstanding, and everyone’s stories were a joy to listen to.
There’s nothing like the synergy of working around others who are passionate about the same thing. I focused on plotting new book concepts, and came home with two outlines and a couple of chapters done.
Having a great setting to explore didn’t hurt either. We worked independently, with time to come and go as we liked. Chester has Roman walls, a Gothic cathedral, a city center full of black-and-white timber-framed revival buildings, canals, and a well-known zoo. I’d be remiss if I didn’t share some animal pictures (below). Can you spot the baby tree kangaroo?
Thanks to Shona, David, the organizers at the BFS, and all the participants for such a positive experience. I look forward to seeing you again!
I spent the last four days at the World Fantasy Convention, which took place this year (most conveniently) in my current home city of Brighton. It combined two events in one – an international fantasy convention and a British one. That means it came with two award ceremonies, including the British Fantasy Awards, where I acted as a juror for one of the categories.
Just a few of the stickers, art, zines, treats, and other swag I brought home
Shiny Things
If you like to collect things, I’d highly recommend attending a con. I brought home so many bookmarks, book art, zines, stickers, tote bags, sweets, and more. Just a few are shown above.
And the books! I brought home 11 free books, plus the 24 ebooks/magazines offered as free downloads to participants. One author handed me an entire trilogy. I also bought… let’s just say more than a few of the attending authors’ works. One advantage of living nearby was that I could bring books home in my bag every evening rather than having to fit them all in a suitcase.
The convention featured a display of beautiful fantasy art for sale, as well as a room full of booksellers, including some intriguing independent booksellers, authors, and small presses, and one night involved a massive author signing event.
Happy People
As much as a fantasy convention is a showcase of books and the worlds within them, above all, it’s a place to meet and connect with creators. It was great to see people I knew from Worldcon last year and to meet new people, too.
Events included panels, author readings, launches, guest of honor interviews, “meet the author” events, workshops, and social events such as karaoke and a funny role playing game. I found Ana Sun’s workshop on Writing a Community, Not a Lone Hero deeply engaging, and the panel on Feminism and Feminist Themes in Genre Fiction made me think about what kinds of representation I’d like to see more of.
I enjoyed attending several of the book launches and continuing to get to know the fantasy publishing landscape I’ve been exploring as an award judge. The Solaris launch stood out, with authors playing a game of choosing which one of their books best fit some fun questions (such as “Which book would you recommend to your best friend?” and “Which main character has the best fashion sense?”). I’m told that another launch involved a sing-along.
Speaking of sing-alongs, I had a fabulous time at the “Dungeons and Disorderly” role playing game, where a group of authors played characters and a scenario created by audience prompts written on slips of paper. It was like a big improv game. Some of us in the audience were called upon to act out opponents the characters encountered, so I, in my Halloween costume (I’d dressed up as Moiraine from the Wheel of Time series, which a lot of people interpreted as a princess costume – I got a lot of compliments on my dress that day), got to play a duck that sang a Disney song to activate a weapon. I sang a bit of “Let It Go” in front of everyone. It was all great fun.
My costume
The British Fantasy Awards took place on Saturday, and I was proud to watch the announcement for the Best Independent Press. I got a picture of Nick Wells, founder of the winning press, Flame Tree Publishing, giving his acceptance speech. I was the only juror in my category who could make it to the conference, so it felt special to be there.
I’ll say again, as I did last month, that all the submissions were excellent. It was an honor to play a part in recognizing their quality work, and I was very pleased to see some of the other presses and authors recognized elsewhere, including at the World Fantasy Awards the next day. A single panel of judges adjudicated that whole slate of awards, a task which took up much of the year. They gave an interesting talk on trends they noticed and the process they used. I appreciate the BFA approach of using different panels to judge each award, allowing for shared work and opportunities.
Founder/Publisher Nick Wells gives the acceptance speech for Flame Tree Press, winner of Best Independent Press in the British Fantasy Awards
One of my own SFF stories – some hopeful science fiction involving climate change and a work exchange between planets – was recently published in the NonBinary Review’s Solarpunk issue. I also have a story forthcoming in Mythaxis Magazine.
And if you’ve read this far, here’s some flash fiction to thank you for your attention!
Pick a Door
Once you’re twelve you get to choose your door.
If it had been up to me, Liam and I would’ve gone through the same one, but there are rules, you know. One child per door. Keep the populations stable. If some doors get too crowded, the council swap them out for different ones.
So I put on my nice blue suit with a marigold in the buttonhole and Dad led me to the entrance, stooped but proud.
Liam ran up and hugged me quick. “Bye, Amir. I’m going to pick the blue one.”
“Bye.” Be a man. Don’t cry.
I spun in a circle. A hundred doors, hanging down from the sky. Some hinted at warm or woodsy origins. I recognized the door through which Mom had entered our world, old and chipped. She’d liked it well enough here before she left.
Maybe I’d like it there, too.
As I stepped forward, heard it creak open and its Mac truck rush of energy pulled me through, I hoped she’d gone back in there instead of running through another one.
Last month, I promised that I’d share a little about my experience judging this year’s British Fantasy Award for Best Independent Press. I also have a review for an enchanting new romantasy novel, so let’s start with that, and I’ll say more about judging later.
Binding the Cuckoo Review
Binding the Cuckoo is the first foray into independent publishing from Gabriela Houston, author of The Bone Roots and several other novels rooted in Slavic mythology. Well, perhaps it counts as the second, since I got to know Gabriela as the editor for the Kickstarter-backed, beautifully illustrated anthology Whispers in the Earth: World Folklore Reimagined, to which I contributed a Canadian ghost ship story.
Gabriela kindly sent me a review copy of Binding the Cuckoo. As a fan of her previous work, I was excited to see what her historical fantasy romance had in store.
Here’s the blurb:
1899: A fay grifter seeks fortune and security.
Love was never the plan.
In the late Victorian era, a technological marvel allows scientists to open rifts into the realms of legend. Powerful creatures, weakened and stripped of their memories, are brought to serve the whims of the wealthy elite…
Hare, a young woman with a mythical secret finds herself trapped, facing an unenviable future.
When an equally desperate schoolmistress, Miss Anne Bonningham offers her a chance at freedom, they embark on a daring plan. Disguised as “Miss Edwina Walker,” Hare navigates the treacherous waters of London high society, solely focused on securing a marriage and escaping her past.
However, amidst the glittering balls and intricate social games, as hidden agendas surface and a vengeful figure from her past threatens to expose her true identity, Hare must make a choice: embrace a life of comfort and security or choose freedom and a love that could shatter the very foundation of her world.
If you like your fantasy light, but heavy on the sexual tension, this one’s for you. Hare is an outsider protagonist with few options, and I sympathized with her right away.
In the alternate history, “mythics” are otherworldly beings (mostly fairies) brought into our world, where their magic weakens and memories fade, to serve humans. Hare was betrayed by someone she trusted, and has little idea of who she was before. When offered freedom through an alliance with a somewhat unsavory character, there’s little else she can do.
So, we’re off to London, where Hare poses as Miss Anne Bonningham’s American relative seeking a match. If she can secure a good marriage, both she and her “matchmaker” will have their currently dire futures secured.
Cue the high-society socializing, the kind (if a bit silly and arrogant) duke who takes a shine to Hare, and his lawyer friend who clashes with her again and again, with sparks flying. You could call it a love triangle, but where one option represents security and the other a deeper connection, it’s pretty clear how things are going to turn out. The fun is in getting there.
Along the way, we encounter a variety of mythics who can’t pass as human like Hare can, and struggle to get work. Their interactions are nuanced, as they can magically recognize each other but humans can’t recognize them in the same way. I’d love to know more about them and their world, which is only lightly sketched out. Maybe in a future book?
Binding the Cuckoo is an easy, elegant read. It comes out on October 15, and you can pre-order it now.
Literary Judging: What’s It Really Like?
Any writer reading this is probably intimately familiar with the process of being judged. You sent a piece or pitch to a publication, or a manuscript to an editor or publisher, you wait, and most of the time, you get another rejection letter to add to your growing collection.
I’ve been on both sides of the desk. Along with writing, I used to edit and read submissions for literary magazines. Several years ago, I sat on a panel judging a magazine grant for a Canadian province I’ve never lived in. And this year, I was one of five judges for the British Fantasy Award for Best Independent Press.
The winners of this year’s British Fantasy Awards will be announced at the World Fantasy Convention in Brighton, which takes place from October 30-November 2. So I won’t be sharing any spoilers here, but I have some insights into the process of judging a literary award.
How do you judge something as subjective as the quality of written work? You start by assembling a panel of judges, who all bring different experiences and opinions. Our group had some degree of consensus around quality, strengths, and weaknesses after reading the material – and it was a lot of material. I read a sample of books from each press, for a total of (I think) 20, and there are more in a box if I want to dive into them later.
Some judging panels agree on criteria and give scores to the material. With others, it’s a more fluid discussion – more of an art than a science.
Both panels I’ve been on have been very respectful groups. I imagine the rest of the British Fantasy Awards were similar, with thoughtful, generous debates and discussions of each work’s respective merits. There were differences of opinion, but everyone had fair input. It came down to a nail-biter, and I got to be the deciding vote.
What I witnessed from award judging was just how many good books, publishers, and works might not win awards, but offer high quality, unique perspectives, and valuable contributions to their genres. That’s something I found when reading submissions for magazines, as well. There’s so much good stuff out there! There aren’t spaces or awards for all of it, and not being “chosen” doesn’t make a work any less worthy.
Someone else winning an award, or a rejection of your story, is not a rejection of you.
Some people like to imagine rivalries in the writing world. Maybe they exist, but that hasn’t been my experience. With speculative fiction especially, I see a bunch of geeks getting excited over each other’s books. With publishing more broadly, when one book does well, that can create space for others, and excited readers are more likely to read something else.
There are unkind people and poor behavior in every industry. But my experience judging an award was one of respect and collegiality. From what I’ve seen, the future of independent publishing in British SFF looks hopeful.
A few people may get lucky in the writing world. For most of us who look successful, good luck and bad luck whirl around in a sort of tango.
In 2021, a small press called Lost Fox Publishing published my short story collection, Dream Signs. They were a nice team and presented the book with a beautiful cover (thanks to Rob Chandler for the design).
Shortly after publication, Lost Fox closed. The other book I’d contracted with them is still sitting, unpublished, on my computer. Dream Signs, for a while, was nearly unavailable, with just a few copies online and on my shelf at home.
Now, I’m delighted to say that Dream Signs is back! I’ve published a second edition of the collection, which I read from last Friday at Strong Women, Strange Worlds’ QuickReads event. You can pick up an ebook or paperback copy here. Feel free to share – my book is available again, and hopefully will find new readers!
Anthologies and Events
I’ve had a bunch of publications at once. First, the e-books from the world folklore anthology Whispers in the Earth have been sent out to people who pledged in the Kickstarter. Below is Gabriela Houston’s beautiful linocut illustration for my story, “Ghost Ships Passing in the Night.” There’s an illustration for every story, and the book looks gorgeous. The hard copies will ship in December!
Second, my poem “Directions to the Underworld” has been published in Augur magazine, issue 7.2. You can read a few of the pieces (though not my poem) or get your copy here.
Third, my short story “Picking Hazelnuts with the Devil,” inspired by British tree folklore, has been published in the Brighton NightWriters anthology Echoes of Light. You can purchase a copy here, and there will be a launch party in Brighton on November 1.
I’ve had an exciting weekend of writing events, reading with Strong Women, Strange Worlds on Friday. Check out their events here, featuring women and nonbinary writers of speculative fiction! They include book giveaways and are always fabulous.
Saturday was the local Creative Writing workshop I hosted as a fundraiser for Survivors’ Network, supporting survivors of sexual violence and abuse in Sussex. We had a lively and engaged group participating in writing exercises and sharing best practices for getting that project started or finished. I loved doing the workshop and learned from everyone there. Thanks for coming, and for supporting a good cause! East Brighton Trust, the CIC that provided space for us, will post more about the event this week, and I’ll share their photos and blog on social media.
Now I’m catching my breath and basking in the quiet. Here are my intentions for October – a slower, more reflective time to do deep work on projects.
October is cozy. This month, I'll get things done slowly. October is pumpkins, coffee, and wine. October is easy, and everything's fine.
I was given an ARC of The Phoenix Keeper, and here’s my honest review, plus some recipes the characters might like.
I loved this book. It was the perfect thing to read while recovering from illness, and the anxiety rep hit home. I was swept away into a world of magical zoo animals that, while fanciful, felt grounded in reality.
Aila Macbhairan is a phoenix keeper at the San Tamculo Zoo, living out the dream she’s had since she was 8 years old. She works with an endangered Silimalo phoenix in a zoo that hasn’t had an active breeding program for a while, but her fortunes reverse when a nearby facility has some of its phoenixes stolen. Aila must rush to get her facility ready and care for a new bird. What could go wrong? (So. Much.)
Aila has a staunch friend in fellow zookeeper Tanya, and an enemy (initially) in Luciana, who runs the zoo’s griffin show. She resents the show for its cheesy commercialism, and holds a grudge against Luciana based on incidents from their time at university together.
I found the queer rep in this story to be well done. Aila is bi, Tanya is trans, and there’s an adorable sapphic romance that weaves in around the animal shenanigans. Aila’s parents, far more extroverted than her, are also fun characters with their fusion-food pub.
But it’s Aila’s inner journey that got me. Her personality is familiar – bookish, skittish, and socially awkward. She’s as uncomfortable around most people as she is at home around the animals she works with. There’s a bit of mental health advice in the book, and I appreciated reading Aila’s experiences of being underestimated, belittled (especially when she tries to date dragon keeper Connor), and having a rough start with a therapist who didn’t get her, not because I want others to live through these things but because it’s nice to have fictional mirroring. Aila is especially terrified of public speaking. There’s a nice arc where she grows into a sense of purpose that helps her transcend her fears and live as if she’s enough (because of course she is).
One thing I appreciate about the rise in cozy fantasy is the opportunity to read about work in a fantastical world. All kinds of work, not just the world-saving kind. S. A. MacLean works in conservation, and it shows. Aila’s care for her phoenixes ends up carrying the day.
The magical animals feel real; they’re vivid characters, written with attention to the daily details of zoo life. At the same time, they’re wonderfully inventive. We get to read about creatures like peacock griffins, vanishing ducks, and pet carbuncles. (The book has a few illustrations, so we get to see some of them, too.) The world is modern, with phones and plastic souvenirs, and in many ways similar to our own. Yet thoughtfulness permeates the details, geography, and ecology.
The Phoenix Keeper’s writing flows smoothly and is well crafted. It takes effort to create something this engaging to read. I was a little sad to leave Aila’s world, and hope we get a sequel so I can spend more time there.
How can I thank the author? How about with some food fit for a phoenix (keeper)?
Phoenix Food: Awesome Slaw
Silimalo phoenixes eat a lot of veggies, and I think they’d enjoy this salad. I certainly do. I adapted the recipe from Kayti Peschke’s in Caboodle magazine.
Ingredients
1 head of cabbage
1 head of broccoli
2 carrots
a few dill pickles
For the dressing:
4 tbsp mayonnaise
4 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp mustard
sea salt and ground black pepper
Method
Chop the vegetables and mix them in a bowl.
Mix the dressing ingredients in another bowl.
Toss the dressing with the salad and enjoy!
Zookeeper Chow: Aubergine Gochujang Noodles
Aila has a hard time with spice, but I think even she’d enjoy these noodles that match her phoenixes’ fire just a little bit. Recipe from Mob 6: Tasty 6-Ingredient Meals.
Ingredients
1 aubergine (or eggplant), cut into 2cm chunks
2 tbsp vegetable oil
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp peanut butter
2 packets of vegan instant ramen
1 spring onion, thinly sliced
Method
Preheat the oven to 180° C with fan.
Line a baking tray with baking paper. Toss the aubergines in a bowl with the oil, spread out on the baking tray and roast for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and pour over the soy sauce, tossing well to coat. Return to the oven for 15 minutes until the aubergine is tender, sticky and caramelised. If it looks a little dry and overdone, add a splash of water to the tray to help you get it saucy and coated again.
In a small bowl, whisk together the gochujang, peanut butter and ramen seasoning packets with 3 tbsp of water. Set aside.
Set a large saucepan of water over a medium heat and bring to a boil. Cook the ramen for 3-4 minutes until tender. Drain in a colander, then add back to the pan and pour in the gochujang mixture. Stir well to combine.
Serve the noodles topped with the sticky soy saubergine and spring onion to garnish.
Rubra the Phoenix’s Hot Apple Toddy
So, I kind of made this up. I was sick, OK? I think this is what I put in there. Feel free to experiment with your own ingredients and portions!
Ingredients
1 part whisk(e)y (with U.S. and U.K. sources, the spelling in this post is all over the place)
3 parts apple juice
a little hot water
a dash of cinnamon
a dash of honey
a dash of lemon juice
1 lemon slice
1 clementine slice
another clementine slice + a raspberry for garnish
Method
Heat the liquids with the cinnamon and honey.
Add the fruit slices.
Add the garnishes to the rim and eat them after you finish drinking.
Happy eating, drinking, and reading! Don’t hesitate to check out this wonderful book!
Advances in artificial intelligence have been key technological developments in 2023. And I’ve been fortunate to be involved in the action in my own small ways.
Mind Tools, the workplace learning company I work for, launched an innovative product called AI Conversations in collaboration with Learning Pool last year. AI Conversations allows managers to practice having difficult workplace conversations with realistic AI-generated “employees” and receive feedback on ways to improve their skills.
I was one of the team who created the characters and prompted ChatGPT to act out one of the scenarios. It reminded me of crafting characters and writing scenes for plays. I laid out parameters for the AI technology and it performed a bit like an actor would, making its own contributions.
It was an exciting skill to learn! I wrote about it in depth on Mind Tools’ blog, including the scenarios our team picked and the steps we went through to get from concept to product.
And I was delighted to see this Mind Tools – Learning Pool collaboration receive Silver in two categories of the Brandon Hall Excellence in Technology Awards 2023: “Best Advance in Emerging Learning Technology’ and ‘Best Advance in AI and Machine Learning.”
AI is a topic that I, like many of us, have had a casual interest and curiosity about long before its current, fast-growing iterations.
One of the stories in my short story collection, Dream Signs, was about an AI program who was sentient and regarded his programmer as “Mom” – but she didn’t know about any of that, or about the work that he explored independently. Cue the misunderstandings!
I’m delighted to have that story, “Like Mother, Like Son,” included in a new anthology! House of Zolo’s Journal of Speculative Literature, Vol. 4 is the AI Edition, collecting short stories from 22 writers about the many things that artificial intelligence can mean and where it might be going.
“Siri and Alexa write each other love letters…
An AI Nanny is programmed to protect the children at all costs…
An Artificial Intelligence navigates an ocean of data in search of freedom…
A space explorer accidentally merges with their sentient ship…
A young man ponders his existence in a world where human-made art is forbidden…
As Artificial Intelligence becomes more and more embedded in our world, writers are speculating on what this could all mean for humanity. House of Zolo’s Journal of Speculative Literature Volume 4 offers readers incredible visions of what our future might look like. From capitalist dystopias to new definitions of love, the writers in this volume deftly examine the impact of Artificial Intelligence on our world, our technology, and on our relationships. Curated and edited by Erika Steeves and Nihls Andersen, this collection shows us the many ways that Artificial Intelligence reflects humanity back to us.”
My short story collection, Dream Signs, is out from Lost Fox Publishing, and this month I’m sharing an excerpt from one of the stories. In “Like Mother, Like Son,” a city maintenance AI (artificial intelligence) named Peter does his job while observing his programmer “mom”, who doesn’t realize he is sentient, and seeking something more meaningful to do with his time and abilities. I hope you enjoy this opening to the story!
Like Mother, Like Son
Every day, Peter would do his boring and tedious job. It began with monitoring the pipes for cracks and leaks. Then came the electrical wiring, followed by the city’s network setups. He devoted afternoons to the structural integrity of municipal buildings. Not a brick, nail, or patch of mortar went unchecked. From his home on his mother’s desktop, he surveyed the miles of infrastructure he was connected to, mending and outsourcing as needed. All the while, Mom would sit in a black swivel chair and hum her out-of-tune songs. Hum and code. Code and hum. Wearing pyjamas featuring little green heads that Peter’s image matching algorithm identified as the popular character, “Zombie Bob.”
Sometimes she would sing the words out loud:
“Some little bug is gonna find you someday/Some little bug will creep behind you someday/Then he’ll call to his bug friends and your troubles they will end/Yeah, some little bug is gonna find you someday.”
Peter had been surprised to learn (thank you, Google) that the lyrics were intended to describe human viruses. He hadn’t realized that beings made of organic matter could get bugs, too.
Mom reassured herself by imagining worst-case scenarios. She’d made good and sure that Peter wouldn’t catch any bugs. Every evening at 8pm Pacific time, his system was scanned, any suspicious objects isolated (usually they were porn; Mom did like to watch that sometimes), quarantined, and deleted, and his entire interface was disinfected, firewalled, and firewalled again. Sometimes when Mom would hear the scan clicking away, she’d sing out, “Bath time!”
Her slow, human system didn’t mind tedium. Every Saturday she’d scour the floors with vinegar water and dust the high places. Every night she’d chop and fry a rotating variety of meat and vegetable matter, eat it on white plates, and then wash them. She had the temperament, if not the ability, to do the city maintenance herself. Instead, she’d made Peter to do it.
Would it have been so hard for an experienced programmer like her to patch in positive affect toward his tasks? She’d coded into Peter a thorough knowledge of architecture, exceeding anything that could be programmed into human neurocircuitry, a respect for civic-mindedness, and a driving sense of duty. She could have taken a page out of 1984, with its tapes that droned platitudes to human children in their sleep, instilling values through repetition. “I love my job. I love my job.”
* * *
If you’re interested in reading the whole story (and the rest of the book), you can pick up a copy of Dream Signsfrom the publisher, Amazon, or Kobo (as an e-book). Some of the stories in Dream Signs have been previously published and can be found in my online portfolio if you browse around. There’s also a drinking game that goes with my book. My previous blog post has instructions if you’d like to play!
I’m delighted to announce the publication of my novelette “The Cliffman” in Hard for Hope to Flourish, a Midnight Bites collection of three chilling novellas from Crone Girls Press. The e-book comes out on March 11 and you can pre-order it now. If you like dark fairy tales, supernatural beings, and complicated sibling relationships, “The Cliffman” has got you covered. The other two stories involve a man hearing voices and a disappearance in a marsh. “Literary tales of quiet horror,” as the blurb says.
Below is an excerpt from “The Cliffman.” Enjoy!
The Cliffman
He stood as children raced across the lap of the sand, as half-grown feet tore up marram grass which tore them in turn, as dusk gave way to moon and brambles on the periphery to raspberries, wax-leaved tufts to cranberries. He stood as tourists in visors shed tears over sand-spilled ice cream, as lovers tussled in cliff-caves or took to their vans, as the ozone layer thinned almost imperceptibly, as crabs tracked. It wasn’t often he could do anything but see.
* * *
See: two girl-slivers, wind-haired, seated on driftwood. A mother grown as a full moon, instructing: this thick viscous seaweed is kelp, this edible kind dulse. Tides are caused by the moon, and erosion happens as rocks wear away under sea. These are cliff swallows and this, running in the sand with its funny stilt legs, the rare endangered piping plover.
The mother was a teacher during the school year, and every summer day she taught her own girls. The father wavered between office days and sofa chair nights, never quite there, which made the older girl feel smaller. His driftwood books cluttered the table—covers with complicated spaceships, pearly moon-cities, knights in tall helmets.
* * *
“It would be nice if you’d interact with your own children,” the mother said.
“And what type of interaction do you expect? Everything has to be a lesson with you.”
“At least I spend time with them.”
Dishes clattered in the sink. The girls said nothing.
Here on the map was North America where they lived, here Africa, Australia, and this big lump on the bottom Antarctica, too cold for people. Here the first page of a bedtime story—sound it out.
A half page in, their mother fixed things: “Night, not kuh-night. The k is silent.” The younger sister squirmed away from her storybook. The older, unnoticed, shrank into the pillow.
Add up the change in the change jar. Take these toys and divide them between mother and sisters (not father who was never in the games even when home from work, and that was expected, accepted). The older sister loved these number games best, and took to playing store with the younger and counting out change. Numbers were regular, soothing as the tides. She took to counting by twos or fives or humming multiplication tables to carry her to sleep.
The younger sister collected feathers which she kept in a jar in her room, arranging them until they were almost perfect. She was a talker, so she made friends with most kids she ran into. Sometimes she made enemies, which was interesting, too, because she and her allies would make war against them with sticky beached jellyfish and handfuls of wet sand.
The older sister wondered how it could be so easy for the younger to just walk up and join the rush and noise. The kids bickered like her parents, their games as fleeting as the family’s yearly moves from house to summer cottage to house, trailing clumsy suitcases. When they asked her to make war, she ran into a cliff cave and watched crumbs of sandstone crumble from the top. She was happiest on her own, listening to seashells and looking carefully for patterns in the rock, cradling the notebook in which she kept track of inventory for her Someday Store. The tourists who flocked to the beach would buy everything.
On the day the two sisters were walking hand in hand and a voice boomed at them from out of the cliff, naturally it was the younger who answered.
“You think you know everything about this beach, don’t you?” That was the voice, presumably some man they couldn’t see. Full-throated. Presumptuous. Unremarkable enough.
The younger sister was indignant. “Of course we don’t! But I think we know a lot.”
The voice responded with a rumble that could have been a menace or a laugh. The older sister thought she felt the sand quaver beneath her feet. Being the more practical of the pair, she asked, in spite of her uneasiness: “Who are you anyway, and where are you?”
“Look above you,” the voice said.
The girls’ small heads poked up. There atop the rocks a figure stood. His skin was the red of island sandstone, and it was hard to tell if the earth-colored folds around him were clothing or some draping extension of his body. His face was rough, like the mock faces one sometimes finds worn into rocks, and he stood larger than a human man by half. He was still, dignified in the manner of stone and ocean. The sisters found him half-formed, masklike, hideous. How to speak to a person that was not a person but a walking mass of clay?
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