A new playlist …

Mainly because I felt like it. A\K\A the usual reason. Let's listen to some new music while we wait for the end from notmanos on 8tracks Radio.

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Twitter WIP update …

So my seven sentences were too much to actually post on Twitter, so here is the segment: “Or he was fine with doing damage to himself to stop it transmitting.” Cass tried to imagine what that would be, and shuddered. You’d think someone wouldn’t go that far, and yet, when a chrononaut snapped, nothing was off the table. He’d heard of one who somehow lopped her own arm off and used it to beat people. She had style, you had to give her that, even if it was self-defeating in the end. Rain was flinging itself against the windows like it was attempting suicide, and sometimes it pressed so forcefully against the bus he could actually feel it, like it was trying in vain to tip this vehicular behemoth over. Hardly a night for man or beast, so of course...

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Flash Fic: The Days of Our O’Sullivans

So, this Tweet came up on my Twitter feed – @WritingPrompts A sitcom family moves to a soap opera neighborhood, has trouble fitting in. #writingprompts #writing – and how could I not, really? ** The Days of Our O’Sullivans Open: Patriarch Dave O’Sullivan knocks on the next door neighbor’s door, the Mulvaneys. Dave: Howdy neighbor! Can I come in? (Audience responds with knowing chuckles) Dave opens door and peeks inside, only to see fabulously wealthy and glamorous Sable Mulvaney crying decorously on the sofa. Dave: Oh no! Sable, what’s wrong? Sable: Oh, Dave! You remember my first husband, St. John Worthington? (Dave approaches couch slowly) Dave: Er, umm … maybe? (Audience chuckles) Sable: He was the wealthy oil magnet and stunt pilot....

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Infected Universe story – Anhedonia

I might be doing more of these, as I had a mad urge to wrap up some things, possibly things that don’t need wrapping up. But you know how authors are. Minor spoilers for Infected: Throwaways, if you haven’t read that yet, and CW – talk of abuse, eating disorders and drug use. ** Anhedonia A gay nightclub wasn’t the most obvious choice for a wake. And yet, it did a surprising amount of side business in that area. There had been talk about doing it at another gay club, Skylight, except it would definitely object to such a thing inside its walls. Also, Chai was certain they were too old, too poor, and too ethnic for that crowd. So here they were at Panic instead, mourning the guy you figured would outlive the rest of them – Trix....

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Something I’m working on …

So I asked on Twitter if people would rather read a bit of my Farscape but gayer thing, or my drunken time travel thing. Farscape won, so here we go, the “introducing most of the gang” moment. Keep in mind, this is still rough. But I wanted to prove I was still writing, contrary to all the evidence. And as of now, I have no title. Titles always seem like the last things to appear. ** Sayeed woke up with a huge pain in his neck, and a chalky taste in his mouth. That was usually the end result of being hit with a nerve disruptor. Also, having a shunt jammed into his nexus cluster to prevent it from operating. He sat up, and the shunt began broadcasting its canned message straight into his brain: “Sayeed Jackson Singh, you have been tried and...

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