Why does Science Fiction feel more satisfying in literature than in television series? In a word: Closure. [WARNING: Multiple spoilers ahead] Take Max Headroom, about a reporter taking on the corrupt TV media, or Brimstone, its strict sinners-go-to-hell universe in contrast with the shades-of-gray moral dilemmas faced by the protagonist. Both shows were cancelled [...]
How do you find the discipline to keep writing? Especially through patches when, for whatever reason, the material resists you?
by Amanda Reed
by Kate Flynn
by Jenny Maloney - The Great Red Spot has glared out at the universe for centuries. Rachel glares back. Now: The near dead spaceship uses the last of its fuel to keep pace with Jupiter's rotation. The white and purple and maroon clouds swirl into the pressure system like water flooding a tidepool. The maelstrom is so large it fills the observation window. So large it would swallow Earth twice over. So large it swallows her.
by Ella J. Lombard - I met her in the awkward pause after the coffin was lowered into the ground. It had been weeks since I had found a silence with so many flavors. I drank in its power and the world seemed to sharpen, the well of energy within me finally refilling. Funeral silence has an odd quality; it hovers somewhere between a prayer and a bad first date.
by Matt Hollingsworth - Velka’s hands twitched as she turned the page. What troubled her was a feeling without voice or words, though if it did have a voice, it would have sounded like her mother, and if it did have words, it would have said: Are you sure you read it all?
by Judy Helfrich - I never done it. I never killed my old man. But that's not what I told the judge, so they sentenced me here to the Lagrange-1 penal space station. Used to be they sent criminals to Australia; now they don't even want us on the planet.
by Kyle E Miller - The body had been dumped in a ravine overgrown with clover just as the pink blossoms opened to face the sky. He was naked beneath the black haori in which he had been wrapped.
by Josh Pearce - The Legend of Her Descent: Regan Drake's inert body lay against the rust-orange rubble of Martian ground, her silver pressure suit glinting in the sun like a razor blade that had not yet oxidized.