Tag Archives: ideomancer

Drag Queens in Spaaaace!

Sometimes the perfect confluence of things comes along. Like someone comes up with the Pulp-O-Mizer cover generator right as you sell a pulp-inspired story about kick-ass drag queens saving the world from an evil genius holed up in an impossible fortress on Mars. How could I resist making my own pulp-o-mizer cover under circumstances like that? And now that Doctor Blood and the Ultra Fabulous Glitter Squadron has made its official debut in the June issue of Ideomancer, I can share that cover with the world. So, without further delay, I present to you in all its pulpy glory…

DoctorBlood

But wait! There’s more! When a character like Bunny comes along, they can’t be contained by just one tale. So stay tuned for Shimmer #17 due out later this summer, wherein you will discover just How Bunny Came to Be…

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December’s Ideomancer…

… has been reviewed over at The Fix, and they had some very nice things to say about Cloth from Flesh, Flesh from Bone. Woohoo!

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Odds and Ends

ABC apparently ordered a pilot of Fables. As with any other source material close to my heart, this makes me slightly nervous. On one hand, I would love to see these stories brought to (more) life, on the other hand, you never know who is going to be Joel Schumacher, and who is going to be Chris Nolan.

In other news, The Best of Every Day Fiction, which contains my flash piece, The Chupacabra in Love, is now available, both as a trade paperback and a fancy clothbound gift edition.

And finally, Cloth from Flesh, Flesh from Bone received a nice shout-out from Rich Horton in his year-end summary of Ideomancer. Go check it out and see if you agree!

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Filed under Anthology News, Random Rambling, Short Story News

Cloth from Flesh, Flesh from Bone

The December issue of Ideomancer is now live. Inside you will find a factory where cold children strip pieces from the dead to serve the cause of the war.

Samantha remembers when the factory was a school.

Not much has changed. Long work tables have replaced long desks in the vast, cold room, and a supervisor paces with watchful eyes instead of a teacher.

High windows let in light the color of dirty water. Samantha’s fingers ache with the cold; the work cramps her bones. For just a moment she wishes she could climb up and up to stand beneath the sky, stretch her chilled fingers to ripple its surface, dive in and swim away. But before she can think more about the dirty-water sky, or when the factory was a school, another dead man comes down the line.

Read the rest here.

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