Look, before you all assume that there’s no point to re-booting The Princess Bride, let me just say this: the dread pirate Roberta. Everything else the same, but lesbian love story.
Reboots are just fan fiction that are allowed to make money.
An e-zine about spaceships, aliens, science, memory, motherhood, magic, and cats.
Look, before you all assume that there’s no point to re-booting The Princess Bride, let me just say this: the dread pirate Roberta. Everything else the same, but lesbian love story.
Reboots are just fan fiction that are allowed to make money.
by Mary E. Lowd
Originally published in Fantasia Divinity Magazine, Issue 20, March 2018

The harsh blue light of Astralis II shone over the horizon, casting long shadows at an acute angle to the shorter shadows cast by the tawny, warm light of Astralis I, nearly overhead at this hour of noon-night. The longest, sharpest shadow pointed towards the volcanic cone of Mount Kiyaro; it was cast by the pearlescent, spiraling horn that rose from Elliae’s snowy-furred equine brow. She faced the mountain; she faced her destiny. Continue reading “When the Ghost of the Future Catches Up”
Sometimes looking for more words in my brain feels like trying to scoop the goop out of the bottom of a pumpkin with an iced tea spoon.
That feeling when you have some coffee, but it’s too bitter, so you pour some hazelnut syrup into it… but it pours too fast, and now the coffee is far, far too sweet, and at no point was it actually drinkable, and you remember that, really, you just don’t drink coffee.
I’ve found it really useful in my writing to just get in the habit of doing the thought experiment of gender-flipping basically every character before settling for sure on their gender. I just ask myself with every character: would the story be different if I gender-flipped this character? How? Would it still work? What would need changing? And then, finally, which way is more interesting? Continue reading “Gender-Flip Exercise”
The six-year-old, singing quietly to himself, “Hey, hey, we’re the Monkees. And we’re too busy singing to put anybody down.”
A slight pause, followed by the six-year-old interrupting his own song with the observation, “They are pretty busy singing. That’s true.”
Sometimes my brain constructs new versions of Scream while I’m asleep. Technically, this is nightmares — a masked serial killer tries to murder me. But I like the Scream franchise and didn’t mind.
Until my brain started including my kids.
There’s a reason there are no small children in Scream.
That feeling when you’re listening to rare music by an artist you like, and you keep turning it one notch up and then one notch down, trying to find a magical volume level at which it’s actually good… and yeah, that’s probably why it’s rare…
Wow, my teeth-crumble-in-my-mouth nightmares have gotten stubborn.
Generally, if my teeth crumble, I know it’s a dream, so it’s over soon. In the latest though, I kept explaining how I must be dreaming all the way through a hospital trip. Continue reading “Crumbling Teeth”
That feeling when you’re trying to pace yourself on a long project but also push yourself to write as fast as you can, and you can’t seem to agree with yourself on a leadership style for dealing with yourself.