An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Dissident Signals, July 2018
Lucky was a good dog. He’d been a good dog all his life.
So why was he standing in an office supply store, watching his three adopted kittens run wild, while trying to figure out how to make protest signs for a rally to free his tabby cat wife from prison? Continue reading “Not All Dogs”
I don’t seem to be able to write about anything other than Van Gogh and Jello today… which is really weird while working on a far future space opera. #NaNoWriMo
That feeling when you have like ten different things you need to do, and you have just about enough time to do half of one of them…
True love: being handed a spoonful of warm banana bread batter, taken straight out of the loaf pan that’s already in the oven, because you looked sad that the bowl had already been cleaned out.
Going through closets and found this sign I rigged up for selling Otters In Space from a suitcase back when it was self-published with homemade, pixelated cover art.
F
red Patten, a pioneering member of the furry writing community and prolific editor, died today at the age of 77.
Words are failing me, but here’s a picture of all of the anthologies Fred edited with stories of mine. That’s enough encouragement to change the course of a writing career, and also my life.
Rest in peace, Fred.
That feeling when you’re trying to write, and the five-year-old is repeatedly bouncing a balloon off of your head… and you’re encouraging this behavior, because it’s less disruptive than so many other options. #NaNoWriMo
The balloon is green, in case anyone was curious.
Things you don’t expect to ever say: “You need to try to hit my head and not my computer.”
Me: –sees a trailer for Good Omens & mentions David Tennant–
11-yr-old: “I thought he was dead…”
Me: … –bewildered, since 11-yr-old is a massive Whovian–
11-yr-old: “No, wait, that’s Davy Jones.”
Sometimes it feels like believing what I’m writing matters and is worth the effort is half the battle.
I woke up to Ella Fitzgerald singing, “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” and found the eleven-year-old had started Christmas.
Apparently the part of my brain that thought it was a good idea to put off writing my story for the Halloween reading until 4am the night before also decided I had too much of a lead on #NaNoWriMo… as such, I’ve failed to write anything today.
In other news, I seem to have found an off-brand Farscape to watch — Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda. I’m on episode two, and it is… not good. Continue reading “Tidbits from Floundering at NaNo”
Things you don’t expect to have to say: “Can you draw more quietly, please?” But yes, the five-year-old found a way to scrape the pencils across the paper that was screechy and loud.