2020 Awards Eligibility

This is my first awards eligibility post, having just become a SFWA member this past year. I have three stories up for awards consideration, including–I think–the Astounding Award. Here’s a roundup below. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!



Short Stories

Possible Human HeartsApparition Lit, Issue 10, Transfiguration, April 2020

My story about a yearning robot, old movies, and the fervent need to claim identity in a world of limitations.

Miranda nods. She seems more confident now. Her shoulders settle into the stone-like surety I admire. She lets me lean on those shoulders when we watch movies. When she wears shirts that expose her skin, I am able to scent the lotion on the long curve from her neck to her arms. Scents I know very well. In fact, I wish I could bottle them. Miranda had not laughed when I told her so. She said that is one of her projects, eventually, to bottle scents.

The Funeral Coat – PseudoPod 724: Flash on the Borderlands LIII: What Dreams May Come, October 2020

“The Funeral Coat” was a finalist in Pseudopod’s 2019 flash fiction contest and later published and recorded for Pseudopod. Carlie Bergey did an amazing job narrating the piece. It’s a flash horror story about a death ritual gone awry. As John Wiswell tweeted about my story, “Ground rules keep ghosts away!” and I think that sums it up nicely.

Later on I discovered not every family took funeral coats so seriously, or even owned funeral coats, for that matter. Nor did people go to as many funerals as we did.


Novelette

How to Burn Down the Hinterlands – The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, Nov/Dec 2020

My novelette about anger and revenge is one of the stories I’m most proud of. Maria Haskins reviewed it in her Short Fiction Roundup, and Rich Horton included it in his short fiction reviews in the November issue of Locus. I have written a few other stories set in this world and am working on extending the events after this story into a longer work.

Begin with rage. Begin with the memory of your mother. Her smell, her sounds, her silhouette against the fire. Remember the way she was dragged from your home, taken because she had reached too high, her ambition deemed too great. Because she forged a weapon she shouldn’t have. Remember their promise: that the world would be saved. That this sacrifice was for the greater good. One woman versus the entire kingdom. Was that not an obvious choice? Remember snarling, spitting, and crying in the arms of bigger, lesser men.