A is for Apocalypse Blog Train

Hello lover of things ending, glad you could make it here today. If you are hopping on just now, perhaps you'd be interested in the previous stop, from where you could find your way back to the very beginning of this little train.

So, let's talk apocalypse. When Rhonda asked me if I wanted to contribute to this collection, I was quite happy to agree, but I was also a little unsure of what to write. Apocalyptic obviously, but I have never really been into writing about the apocalypse. Not that the premise is not a fascinating one and one that can be explored, just not my cup of coffee.

The idea of assigning every author a letter of the alphabet was interesting though. It meant one had to narrow things down somewhat, you couldn't just randomly start writing and see whether the world had ended at the end of your story or not. In other words, a challenge, and who can resist a good challenge?

My letter is G, and I ultimately had the title (which in this collection is always "LETTER stands for ____") before I had the story, but once I decided what I was going to explore, the rest just fell in place as well.

What does apocalypse mean? Do we all get to die or can the end of the world also be more personal, something like a secret that you cannot share with anybody else? Think about it, Reader. I don't know that there is one answer, and I don't think it matters, it's the question that won't stop raising its head.

Perhaps--if you feel like being incentivized--this little excerpt here might make you curious enough to read along the alphabet with all 26 of us:

"The Labyrinth swallowed me rattlesnake quick. I took a corner, and there it was, the city gone, replaced by a riddle of walls. The strangest thing was this: I realized I wasn't too keen on getting out."

If you are looking for more apocalyptic reading this post (where you can also find all venues from which the book is available) might be of interest to you. Also, our blog train is not quite there yet, and tomorrow it is headed to BD Wilson's blog.

Hope you can make it, see you there!

A is for Apocalypse: it's happening now

 

So this is finally it. We are having the apocalypse now. The funny thing is, I was expecting zombies at least, people who died and just came back to life, maybe pursuing a somewhat irregular diet, but this? I think the black hats are worse.

So here's what's happening: there are people with black hats swarming this place, everywhere. They walk the streets, they will come into your home if you open the door to them. First there is one, but as soon as they have you in their brim-shaded sight, more will come, will flock, will surround you. And then, they disperse, and all that's left is one more dude wearing black felt.

Seriously, I have seen this happen. It happened to a guy out on the street who was trying to outrun them, unsuccessfully. It happened at the market earlier when I was getting bottled water and canned food. It happened to my neighbor just five minutes ago.

Hear? I think that's them knocking now, I can hear their fingers scraping at my door. They won't break it down, do you think? I mean, I am holding my breath, I'm quiet, they can't suspect there's anyone home, right?

Surely they alojdshlfijn'=-['jb mnb jhgcilhlkhgd

ETA: I managed to get out of my apartment after all, I managed to climb down from the balcony. Got a gash on my arm for that, but I didn't even notice because I was trying to get outta here without them seeing me... I think I'm safe for now, but I'll not say where I am, just in case.

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Goodreads

Create Space: 10% off (launch promo, valid for August) - TY6D2CWD

Amazon

Smashwords: 10% off (launch promo, valid for August) - PJ67Q

A little self promotion: watch out for "A Quest of Fire"

 

"A Quest of Fire" is a short story, it will be published in Lackington's #3 which is due out August 18, so that's less than ten days! Yay!!

I have a little bit of the story here, while it might not make you salivate immediately, I do hope it makes you a little bit curious:

   "I am neither he nor she, you know," says the trickster to me. "Just like it says in the book."

    We are in London this time, the National Gallery, where ages come together and beat tambourines in all colors of joy.

    "True, but the part about the fires, that's neither what I am, nor what a trickster is. Did I ever tell you a tree told me how to slip away from time?"

    "Well, what else would tell you? There must be generations of your kind trapped in wood, I'm just surprised you didn't run into a wardrobe or a violin."

    I screw up my face at the trickster who looks charming in his British gentleman.

    "Please don't make jokes about that, it's not funny."

    "Oh, eat a crone, you know it is! Sometimes I think that you just hate to laugh."

    "Afrits," I say, ignoring him. "Let's go talk to some afrits about fire."

Oh, if that is not enough to convince you to take a peek, have a look at the entire ToC here. Enjoy! xo

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Update 8/18: The issue is out now. I would very much like to draw special attention to the wonderful illustration that accompanies my little tale, Paula Friedlander gave life to my roan Pegasus.