Many people have asked for the edit of one of our Christmas stories, Solitary as an Oyster, which suffered some technical difficulty. Sadly, with all the editorial changeover this spring, it ended up on the back burner. But now, six months from Christmas, we give you a treat in the heat of summer (norther hemisphere, anyway): Solitary as an Oyster by Mur Lafferty.
Show Notes:
Next week… we begin our annual Hugo short stories rundown, with five weeks of award-nominated stories! I’m taking a 4-week break from hosting, but I’ll see you in July!
I knew you loved me, of course. It was written in your eyes when you looked at me, a physics problem with no clear answer. If an irresistible force meets an immovable object, what happens then?
They meet. That’s all we know. Relative to each other, they are in contact. From within the object or the force, there is no way to tell if you’re in motion.
Special Closing Music: “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” by Twisted Sister.
“Who’s there?” the voice asked, rough and unpleasant. Robert and Lydia glanced at each other.
“The Paranormalists, Mr. Scrooge. You called us a couple of hours ago,” Robert said.
“Took you long enough,” the voice said. The door clicked as Scrooge unlocked several locks, and finally it slid open a couple of centimeters. Scrooge peered out, the heavy chain still on the door. Jenny flipped the night vision off her camera to get a clear view of him in the foyer’s dim light. He was much smaller than his voice implied, a diminutive man who was probably a bear in the conference room, but a pussycat when in thin pajamas and a robe.
Well, not a pussycat. Something more like a weasel.
Rated G. Contains Santa revisionism and aerial combat.
Special Closing Music: “Chiron Beta Prime,” by Jonathan Coulton.
Comet and Cupid were fifteen, and took after their father, both spending the most time in the workshop tinkering with Father’s tools. Christmas was coming soon and they were preparing their yearly trip to the same orphanage that had cared for them. With nine children to raise on his own, Claus could no longer adopt, but he still found it very important to care for the children in any way he could. So he took a load of toys to the children every year, with his children helping him distribute.
Their siblings sat around their great sitting room, some crowding on sofas, some sitting on chair cushions or arms, and Rudolph, the baby at eleven, sat at his father’s feet. He was an imposing man with a barrel chest and wild white hair and beard. When he would get excited about a project, his blue eyes would twinkle and he’d look like a madman.
Rated R. Contains children engaging in extremely dangerous practices. Parental guidance STRONGLY recommended.
Referenced Sites:
Brave Men Run: A Novel of the Sovereign Era
First, there’s the pressure.
A special kind of pressure, high under Tara’s chin, that makes her feel heavy and light all at once. She kneels by the chair and leans across the edge, because if she faints, the chair will roll away and she won’t choke. She’s always careful.
After the pressure she gets dizzy, and her vision gets kind of… narrow, dark around the edges. It’s hard to breathe, and it feels like there’s something stuck in her throat. Prickles run up and down her back, down her arms where the pain used to be, and a warm fluid kind of feeling sloshes around inside her. She slides down, as things get dark, and then she starts to dream.
But not like night time dreams. These are special.
Referenced sites:
Heifer International
Podsafe Music Network (Terms of Use)
Closing Music: “O Come All Ye Faithful,” performed by Twisted Sister
Gloria blinked. “Why do the people in Cleveland love Christmas more than anywhere else?”
Toby grinned and spread his hands on the bar, unadorned fingers splayed. He stared at them, “I didn’t say Cleveland’s people loved Christmas. I said Cleveland.”
“And you’re saying Charlotte doesn’t like Christmas?”
Toby took a deep breath and let it out. “Oh, no. I’m saying Charlotte flat out hates Christmas.”
Gloria kept her voice level, the best thing to do when dealing with a crazy person. “And why do you think this?”
“I’m an urban shaman. A citytalker. I’m here to talk to Charlotte to find out why it’s unhappy.”
Referenced Sites:
Geek Fu Action Grip
This Day in Alternate History
Blog of the Week:
Ogre Marco’s LiveJournal
(receives Carnal Knowledge by Charles Hodgson)
Meg hadn’t heard from Devon in four months, and she realized that she missed him. So on a whim she tossed her sword and scabbard into the trunk of her car and drove over to campus to visit him.
Genres: Holiday Special
Rated R. Contains profanity, violence, and the puncturing of childhood myths. Merry Christmas!
Referenced sites:
Reading is Fundamental
Child’s Play
I Should Be Writing
Geek Fu Action Grip
Podsafe Music Network (Terms of Use)
Musical guest: Twisted Sister.
“Look, I think I know where this is going,” Kris Kringle said, but Gingermuffin cut him off.
“Do you? The Heartbreakers have been making Tom Petty sound good for years, and no one gives a damn. Tom Petty gets all of the credit.”
Kris wondered if he was sober enough to have this discussion. “You’re not talking about Tom Petty.”
Gingermuffin slammed his hand down on the table. “Damn right I’m not!” Kris’s carefully stacked poker chips fell over in a clatter of Christmas.
Rated R. Contains sexual violence, Satanic summonings, and similar wholesome family bonding.
There was a group of them at college who were into Satanism. My mom, Betty Bloxham as she was then, was one of them. It all sounds a bit kinky, going into the woods at dead of night and dancing in the nude under the full moon.
Anyway, they were all high on drugs at the time, so I doubt they knew what they were doing.
Rated R. Contains profanity and… Well, profanity.
Referenced sites:
Union Dues – Iron Bars and the Glass Jaw
Union Dues – Off White Lies
Pseudopod Submission Guidelines
It’s never really dawned on me that the brochures manage to beautifully portray events and activities I’ve never seen as long as I’ve worn the tights and mask. The brochures don’t show the InterCity cops taking pot-shots at our Jump Jets, they don’t show the protesters outside a school when Landaar makes and appearance, or the new recruits worked to the physical breaking point for a year before they are even allowed third string uniform status, they don’t show how we didn’t put out the fire or didn’t rescue the family.
But since when has a marketing campaign ever focused on truth and reality?