Pimping Myself, 2010 Awards Edition

Posted on December 5, 2010 by Matthew S. Rotundo

So awards season is upon us again, and wouldn’t you know it?  I have a few things that would be eligible.  For your edification, they are as follows:

 
"Ashes, Ashes," from Tales of the Unanticipated #30, April 2010 (short story)

 
"The Woman Who Hated Halloween," Damnation Books, September 2010 (short story)


"Right Before Your Very Eyes," from Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show #19, October 2010 (short story)

If you’re eligible to nominate for the Hugo, Nebula, or World Fantasy Awards, and would like copies of any of these stories, drop me a line in comments.

And whether you nominate my work or not, if you’re eligible, please nominate something.  Thanks for your consideration.

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Progress Report, in which I make a few things official

Posted on November 29, 2010 by Matthew S. Rotundo

Another 5K on "From Earth I Have Arisen."  Magic Meter say,

As you can see, we’ve officially crossed over into novella length.  The story proceeds apace, still hurtling toward parts unknown.

Also, if you’ll compare last week’s meter to today’s, you’ll notice that I’ve officially moved the goalposts.  Had to happen sooner or later.  There was never any realistic expectation of bringing this in under 20K.

As for how much further I actually have to go–I’ll let you know when I get there.

In the meantime, your snippet:

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Progress Report, in which I make a clear distinction between fiction and real life

Posted on November 22, 2010 by Matthew S. Rotundo

Notched 5K on "From Earth I Have Arisen," bringing Magic Meter to here:

Figured out the purpose of that scene I was struggling with last week:  turns out I needed to kill some people.  Truly, I should have thought of that sooner.  Amazing how often violence and mayhem solves my problems.  In fiction, I mean.  I would never think of doing any of this stuff in real life.  Never.  Trust me.

Heh.  Heh.  Heh.

I figure I’m about halfway through this thing.  I suppose I’d have a better estimate if I knew how it was going to end–but as usual, it looks like my muse is dispensing that information on a need-to-know basis only.  That’s just how she operates, folks.  Can’t fight city hall.

Your snippet:

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