Author: marylowd

A Pearl for Amelie

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Kaleidotrope, September 2016

“… I couldn’t use her work anymore. She wasn’t performing serious research. She was making up tales of unicorns.”

The letter was sealed and stamped but had never been sent.  Amelie almost passed it over entirely while going through her aunt’s old boxes of science articles and research notes.  It was addressed to a professor at the University of Crosshatch, Maryland.  Amelie didn’t think her aunt had ever worked there, but Aunt Jill had traveled a lot.  She’d studied giraffes in Africa and wild horses in the Gobi Desert.  She’d worked her way across Europe studying the few remaining bison, all kept in zoos.  It seemed like there was nowhere Aunt Jill hadn’t been, so Amelie couldn’t be sure. Continue reading “A Pearl for Amelie”

Queen Doripauli and the Sproutlings

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, January 2018

“What did an amphibioid care for the political concerns of sentient flowers?”

Sloanee’s slick, sticky amphibioid fingers wrapped around one of Queen Doripauli’s slender twigs.  The queen’s sea-green fronds uncurled, caressing the richer green skin of her amphibioid lover.  Doripauli’s yellow daisy-like petals brushed ever-so-lightly against Sloanee’s face, and the froggy alien’s bulbous eyes closed blissfully.

How could Sloanee give this up?  She had loved Queen Doripauli since she’d first set eyes on the photosynthetic floral alien.  Her eyes were pink roses; her mouths were blue irises; she was a living bouquet — color and splendor and everything that was right with a universe filled with infinite diversity. Continue reading “Queen Doripauli and the Sproutlings”

Tidbits of Stargate, Parenting, and Writing

I’ve spent a great deal of the last week entirely focused on helping my 15-year-old focus on all the schoolwork they need to get done as the term wraps up… and I’m pretty burnt out.

So, now, it’s time to spend an evening with my mom watching space vampires in Stargate Atlantis. Continue reading “Tidbits of Stargate, Parenting, and Writing”

Writing Groups and Their Theoretical Principles

My local writing group has strict rules about how we critique the story, not the author.

Nonetheless, when I put “Anger is a Porcupine, Sadness is a Fish” through, the then-leader decided it was about her & I was subjected to several senior-most members—people I thought of as friends—picking apart every aspect of my feelings & intentions. It was humiliating, heartbreaking, and my trust in the group never really recovered.

Honestly, I’m still kind of broken up and angry about how I was treated over it to this day.

Topher Grace in Scream

My sleeping brain, apparently, can’t tell Topher Grace and Noah from the Scream series apart, so it tried to do a Home Economics dream last night… got as far as Topher Grace, thought, “oh, he always hangs out with Audrey,” added her character in, continued trying to write a sitcom dream, but kept adding in characters from Scream until the killer showed up, at which point my brain was like, “this one is clearly a secret murderer!” and the whole dream snowballed into a Scream-style murder mystery.

Anger is a Porcupine, Sadness is a Fish

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Electric Spec, Vol.13, Issue 1, February 2018

“If Iassandra’s words could change Dara into a porcupine of anger, a fish of sadness, then Dara would cast her own spell of words.”

The child with a malformed arm, bent like a bird’s folded wing, had passed through Troway Village a year ago.  Now Dara was a traveler like he had been.  Would her old village welcome her?  A prodigal daughter returned?  Or would she be hurried along like the child and his parents had been?

Dara and Iassandra had been the town’s truth-tellers together back then.  When the villagers had come to them, not knowing what to think of the strange child traveling through their village, Dara had sung a song of gods’ blessings, how they bent the unborn child’s arm, marking him and setting him apart as he grew.  She sang that he should be welcomed and taken in, a child touched by a god. Continue reading “Anger is a Porcupine, Sadness is a Fish”