Tidbits of Fiction, Reality, and the Space In-Between

Daniel and I were discussing maybe taking the kids on a trip to Hawaii, and the 9-year-old announced: “Why would you take me there? They don’t have internet!”

The kid course corrected pretty quickly, admitting they probably have internet, in response to our baffled expressions. Continue reading “Tidbits of Fiction, Reality, and the Space In-Between”

The Arsenal of Obsolescence

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in The Voice of Dog, June 2021


“Clearly, these gerbils weren’t as primitive as they looked, and she needed to trust them. She needed to trust someone.”

Lieutenant Vonn crashed through the undergrowth of the wild alien rainforest.  The uplifted yellow Labrador felt like the branches were grabbing at her, tearing at her Tri-Galactic Navy uniform.  She hated this planet.  Usually, she liked planets.  Ground missions were her favorite — getting off the stuffy, artificial halls of the starship Initiative, and setting paw to dirt.  She lived for that stuff — fresh air, walking about in the sunshine!  But right now, all she could think about was Commander Wilker and Consul Tor, stuck in a hole in the ground — a deep, dark ditch; a trap lined with primitive pointed sticks that kept her from climbing safely down after them. Continue reading “The Arsenal of Obsolescence”

The Words in Frosting

by Mary E. Lowd

Originally published in Daily Science Fiction, July 2019


“…it wasn’t her place to judge. It was her place to bake cakes and to kick sad androids out of her bakery if they didn’t shape up and start buying some cake…”

Gary was a humanoid android, programmed to experience the complete range of human emotions.  Right now, he was sad.  His broad shoulders slouched, and his head hung, framing his handsome face with his beautiful raven hair.  He had been designed to be beautiful.

Chirri wasn’t sure what to do with this sad android who’d shown up in her bakery, so she served him a piece of cake on the house.  The felinid-alien slid a gold-embossed ceramic plate in front of Gary, and the android stared disconsolately at the piece of fudgy caramel cake on it for several seconds — a very long time for an android — before saying, “I don’t eat.” Continue reading “The Words in Frosting”

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.