It appears to be that time of year again–when people are reading and recommending stories for various awards and whatnot. I’m terrible at self-promotion, but I thought the least I could do was put together a handy little post with all of my award-eligible stories from 2015. I’ve added excerpts just because they’re fun! So without further ado, here we go…
“Be Not Unequally Yoked” — Shimmer Magazine — January 2015 (Fantasy)
Things used to be pure inside me. Separated. When I was a boy, I was wholly a boy. When I was a horse, I was wholly a horse.
Things used to be simple inside me. I was all one thing or I was all another. And the two only got close when the change was happening.
But things aren’t so simple anymore. The lines inside me feel blurry, more and more every day.
“Gold Dress, No Eyes” — Flash Fiction Online — February 2015 (Science Fiction)
All That Glitters
A ball gown of matrimonial grandeur, fashioned after images of long-lost Earth. Swathes of gold taffeta cocoon her as such finery always had, tight enough to suffocate. Ruching rises in silken folds from narrow hips to narrow bust. Gold braid trims the decollete neckline as it rounds her shoulders.
One cream glove rises to her elbow, the other has rumpled down her forearm to pool in eternal ripples at her wrist. Polished tungsten glints, a dark screen is inlaid in her forearm, with spider-webbed cracks — too damaged to warrant removal.
“Molten Heart” — Fantastic Stories of the Imagination — April 2015 (Fantasy)
They didn’t want me to look human, so they didn’t give me eyes. They thought if they shaped me like a monster — a hulking ton of red Mars clay, mute and blind — that she wouldn’t love me.
They were wrong.
“Coming Undone” — Apex Magazine — August 2015 (Science Fiction)
I was born incomplete, unfinished.
My right leg ends in a stubby knee. The corresponding arm never developed past the shoulder.
People always think these undeveloped limbs are the error, but it’s the full-length, ‘healthy’ limbs that make me wrong.
I’ve spent my whole life trying to fix God’s mistake.
“Some Men Break” — Daily Science Fiction — September 2015 (Fantasy)
He had a driftwood heart; he had sleepy-ocean eyes.
I lifted my bloodied head from the sand and there he was, standing on spindly branching legs. Battered wreckage that had long since been washed thin and worn by the waves. I felt the pound of the surf in my temple, in my throat, in my groin.
I coughed up the salty sea and he only stood watching.
As my vision blurred out, I began to think he was only flotsam. Only jetsam. Not a man at all.
Thanks for stopping by and happy reading!