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#sff

27 posts17 participants1 post today

I'm watching #Frieren together with Katriina and wow, that show is amazing! I love it love it love it!! It somehow takes a classic high #fantasy plot and turns it into a gentle, profound and often hilarious story of friendships and how they shape and re-make a person. Every episode is a gem, philosophical in a down to earth, tongue-in-cheek way.

And I'm so happy I realized on time that "Frieren" is eligible for the #HugoAwards , nominations end tonight!
#sff #anime

I've finished: The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett

This Holms and Watson duo really captured me. The fact that the setting isn't London, but a province near the seawall that protects a biotech empire from seasonal attack by giant leviathans makes it much more appealing.

The biotech isn't mimicking current or future technology, it mainly enhances natural abilities. The augmentations have repercussions and unwanted side effects.

The story is toled in first person by Dinios Kol, an engraver, augmented to have perfect recall. He is very competent but suffers from imposter syndrome as he tries to hide his dyslexia from his superiors.

Kol is assigned to assist the eccentric genius investigator Ana Dolabra, an over sensitive woman that has to blindfold herself in order to manage the amount of information assaulting her brain. Kol assits her by going out into the world and recalling what he's seen and heard.

As the plot thickens, we learn more about the empire and its ills.

As mysteries go, our attention is pointed towards many clues, the satisfaction is more in watching competent people do a good job in the face of adversity.

The Tainted Cup is a real page-turner and I found it hard to put down.

app.thestorygraph.com/books/a9

@bookstodon @audiobooks
#SFF #mystery #AudioBooks #bookstodon

Book cover for The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett
app.thestorygraph.comThe Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson BennettAn eccentric detective and her long-suffering assistant untangle a web of magic, deceit, and murd...

If you'd like to write for our articles section, we'd love to have more guest writers! We host a large array of articles on obscure information, game design, writing tips, world building, creative project tools, nerd humour, and all sorts of other creativity-adjacent topics.

Whilst we're too smol a volunteer organisation to pay writers in full, we can provide small thank-you bursaries in some cases and we're happy for writers to plug their projects and donation pages in things they write for us.

Find details here:
exilian.co.uk/forum/index.php?

Do boost!

ExilianWrite for Us!Write for Us!

BlueSky is doing a #TransRightsReadathon from Mar. 21-31 :QueerCatHeart_Trans: Is it happening on the Fedi, too?

Anyway, looking for #BookRecs 📚 Cozy trans +/ nonbinary and gender expansive novels, short fiction, webnovels, etc. 🫶🏾 #Romance would do in a pinch, and I love me some delectable #SFF , but #LitFic is also welcome! :boost_ok:

Also, anybody else also planning to participate?

I'm still in two minds whether I'm down with the norovirus or a regular stomach bug, and I don't have enough to go see a doctor who'd inevitably call for a number of expensive tests. Whatever it is, I have no appetite for horror right now.

P.S.: I love the Monk and Robot duology by Becky Chambers, and would like more fiction of that kind, please!

#ScribesAndMakers 2503.13 — Shameless Self-Promotion Day. Let's boost away.

Here's the newly minted cover art† for Mars Need Women. Check it out!

It's a web-novel, described in the blurb below. I have been posting it in a single free-to-read Mastodon thread. Here is the story link: eldritch.cafe/@sfwrtr/11408894

“A hopeful deeply-dystopian feminist SF story, with thinly veiled jabs at our current world's bad actors making for a bad future. Please note the past tense in the title: Mars Needed Women. The story's women are going to work to bring down the system, at least that part that's oppressing them, in a massive unscheduled disassembly.”

So far I've posted 12 chapters of 31, which I will do more or less daily through the end of this month. The first installment is an inside jacket blurb. The main story starts with a clang in the second installment. Chapter 11 may leave you in tears. #RSMarsNeededWomen

More in the #altText

#BoostingIsSharing

=-=-=-=
† I designed and created the cover, wrote the blurbs, and did the titles. The images are courtesy of ESA and NASA. The spine is a strip of a Mariner 7 image. This is becoming a hobby of mine, and I am open to requests.

[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]

#CommentingIsCool

#gender #fiction #writer #author #coverArt #art #artwork
#sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion
#RSstory

BCS #428 ebook out early today @WeightlessBooks & Kindle Store and for subscribers, featuring stories by Jonathan Olfert, and Matt Hornsby, behind cover art by Tyler Edlin.

(Buying BCS ebooks or an ebook subscription at Weightless Books gets you BCS stories a week early on your e-reader and helps us pay our authors a pro rate and our First Readers an honorarium worthy of writing all replies personalized. Thank you!)

weightlessbooks.com/fiction/be
amazon.com/Beneath-Ceaseless-S
#fantasy #sff #litmag #ebook

beneath-ceaseless-skies-issue-428-cover
Weightless Books · Beneath Ceaseless Skies Issue #428Issue #428 of Beneath Ceaseless Skies online magazine, featuring stories by Jonathan Olfert and Matt Hornsby.

Live right now in BCS #427: "Tea for Truth, Mango for Memory" by Nicole L. Soper Gorden.

"No doubt, but Indra still had to weigh his worth. She sliced open one of the mangoes, then chewed the fruit from the rind. She sucked the pit clean, the familiar flat stone a comfort on her tongue. She let her eyes flutter closed as the flavor filled her. By the clouds above, that was a good mango."

beneath-ceaseless-skies.com/st
#fantasy #sff #shortstory

Beneath Ceaseless Skies Artwork
Beneath Ceaseless SkiesBeneath Ceaseless Skies - Tea for Truth, Mango for Memory by Nicole L. Soper GordenNo doubt, but Indra still had to weigh his worth. She sliced open one of the mangoes, then chewed the fruit from the rind. She sucked the pit clean, the familiar flat stone a comfort on her tongue. She let her eyes flutter closed as the flavor filled her. By the clouds above, that was a good mango.
Continued thread

2503.15 — Freely (Ch/March 9) #Writever #Mars #SpaceOpera, Fictional #journalism

Dispatches from Mars: 16 Psyche Disaster a Software Lock Problem?

When critical mechanical parts on the Robinson Crusoe's NTPU (Nuclear Thermal Propulsion Unit) broke, a crew of 73 that included machinists, metallurgists, mining specialists, three maker specialists, and one mechanical engineer should have been able to fix it.

Not having achieved circular orbit yet, the men of the fourth Martian mission to the massive asteroid had five days to prevent an intercept on the ambitious orbital plan that would prove too trusting of equipment thirty years in service. The intrepid self-reliant men, later tarred as stupid and arrogant by the Green Tractors Corporation, felt they didn't need to contact the Earth for assistance. Following safety regulations and allowing a proper cooldown period, they proceeded with disassembly and isolation of a part for which GTC has never provided schematics, and allegedly didn't even provide the emergency repairability cache required by most national laws. That search despite high radioactivity for the presumably misplaced cache ate up six hours of the crew's time. When their maker machines refused to make the scanned parts, or parts that could be refined in time by lathe work or manual labor to necessary tolerances, the ship's engineer reported it through approved channels.

The lunar deep space network promptly experienced an outage.

Let's unpack what looks like a conspiracy and a subsequent cover-up...

...Because corporations still design without repairability in mind for "cost" reasons, and even make it impossible to fix bugs in logic, or add enhancement that could have served as a lifesaving workaround in the Robinson Crusoe's case, disaster can and will happen. Not being able to freely use and repair equipment that the now bankrupt EM Mars Colonizations Corporation purchased, is a travesty of ethics. For a corporation that resides in a deeply Decath nation, it's a moral failure.

And, for what? Profit from costly maintenance and repair services only available in Earth Space? Are the 7,983 Martians, now less 73, not human? Does is their ability to only pay upon achieving profitability in a future decade strip them of their humanity? Why isn't there at least one tech available for Mars Space?

As you know from other coverage, the Robinson Crusoe went down in Panthia crater, hitting 100 meters below the rim ridge. In the end, despite applying boosts from both their landing vehicles and jury-rigged satellite boosters, all their sims had to tell them an hour before that it was hopeless. Worse, even with the cobbled-together low-bandwidth network the Martians got up, none of the all male crew got to send their families a proper goodbye.

All 73 sailors went down with their ship. They leave behind 73 wives on Mars, together with their 125 first generation (Nisei) Martian children, 24 boys and 101 girls, none over 17 Earth years of age.

#RSMarsNeededWomen 09

[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]

Image credit: By NASA/JPL-Caltech/ASU - nasa.gov/feature/jpl/how-nasa-, Public Domain, commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.

#BoostingIsSharing

#gender #fiction #writer #author #sf #sff #sciencefiction #softwarelock
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion #RSstory #microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory

I'm delighted to say that it's back! My month-long "Meet #TheLastMan" module with SPACE (Signum Portals for Adult Continuing Education) #online via #SignumUniversity is currently a candidate for June 2025. Voting runs through May 1. Early voters will help decide the scheduling of the live discussion sessions.

This #MaryShelley novel is one of the most relevant books we can read right now.

More info: blackberry.signumuniversity.or

Teaser: youtu.be/k2EcVRnhii0?si=8YY6U3

Continued thread

2503.19 (March 8) — Mental Load #Writever #Mars #SpaceOpera

[To prevent front-loading huge plot points, I'm writing prompts out of order.—R.S.]

On the occasions when first-wave male colonists, or too many husbands, took up residence in the connected domes usually reserved for women, May Ri worked (hid) in the crèche. Her cheek still burned with the memory of a slap-down two Mars years ago; her subconscious still feared retaliation for the revenge she'd exacted on the Director. Her "vacation" didn't mean she was excused from her design review, which was also a final engineering exam.

Her book plate bounced on her chest on a lanyard. She'd steal any unwary moment that presented itself. "Steal," being the keyword.

Marisela was 1½ Mars. May Ri's eldest nisei was keenly aware when her mother was Dome-Ma. The little one not only tagged around her mother—a little fist in the belt of her mother's hip huggers, nearly pulling down what May Ri would have called underwear, and had on arrival on Mars—but the savvy girl marshaled the other nisei toddlers (7 girls and 1 boy) such that they—and their shroom-blocks, communal red ride-on tunnel digger, flex sheets colored with charcoal and said charcoals, and pastel pony dolls (a new yet ancient girl-toy craze)—seemingly mag-levved around the room, always within May Ri's reach.

Good and bad points to that. Not being able to steal a moment. Bad. Being able to grab and catch an errant frog hopper. Good. With Mars-gravity-tuned tendons, squatting Nisei did hop like frogs.

Fahad, the boy, knocked over his sipper bottle, causing the lid to pop off. May Ri sighed and let go of her book plate. She stood as the boy started sniffing as a girl pointed. "He spilled!"

Carla, one Mars year older than May Ri, gave her a sympathetic smile. The tiny woman in the corral cared for May Ri's recently weened Manette; also her own crawling daughter, and four infants. May Ri was glad to avoid communal wet nurse duties. Not as glad while mopping up the spill, then judging fidgeters for rapid response loo visits or inspecting bottoms in case she missed an indicator. She did like sneak-hugging the two squabbling youngsters on the floor, getting squeals, and having Marisela join hugging her shoulders.

"What if the axles were shorter," she said to herself, a brainwave hitting. As little ones piled on, the best she could do was repeat "Axles" to remember her idea. Tapping her ear, calling it in, would disrupt the workstations as well as the crèche, and she wasn't sure yet it was a good idea—

"I have such a cute daughter!"

"Randy?"

"She really wants to help Mama, doesn't she?" Her husband finished, swinging their squealing daughter through the air. Too soon she quieted, making him set her down. Their little nisei, with toasty skin like her father and dark hair like her mother, swiftly hid in the crowd of children. "What's your schedule?"

Randolf visited, as did all the men, on honeymoons. May Ri doubted Marisela really knew her father as more than a recurring scary stranger. In an Earther sense, he was one to May Ri, too. She mentally scheduled that talk between the three of them.

"Can you help me?" May Ri asked.

"I don't know how to take care of kids."

"You say that a lot," she said, handing off a pony toy, three hands grabbing for it, to which she said, "Play nice," at them, then at him, "You do fine when we're alone."

It was hard to get a sitter when all other women were enjoying their husbands being local and real time. Him managing the girls well meant fun time later. They had lots of fun.

"Do I?" he asked, stepping away from the toy melée. "I've got what I'm good at. You've got yours. Never received the instruction manual for Marisela."

A joke?

The one thing she'd learned running the crèche, other than the extreme sport of multitasking, was anger had its place; here wasn't it.

"I'll send you the book," she joked back darkly, standing. She held out her hand. His eyes went to her chest, larger now than when they met. It had been three months. When he took her hand, she directed him closer as she would a little boy. Instead of kissing, she applied downward pressure. "Sit!"

He sat. Unlike many men, he was good natured even when contradicted. She liked that.

Little hands and little hugs mobbed him; he got peppered with giggling requests to play. She added, "Learning by doing works."

Carla snorted. When May Ri looked, she got an A-ok gesture.

Marisela belatedly realized her status change. Two parents, not one! Plowing through her competition for affection, she squealed, "Daddy!"

May Ri got time to make the axle revision before the next kid-tastrophe. #RSMarsNeededWomen 08

[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]

#BoostingIsSharing

#gender #fiction #writer #author #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion #RSstory #microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory

Continued thread

2503.07 — Consent #Writever #Mars #SpaceOpera

"I'm going to choose," May Ri told herself, building her courage, to get it over with. Her heart beat too fast; she hyperventilated. Her hands felt damp.

Anticipation.

Anticipation of disappointment!

Having lived four months on Mars, if May Ri knew anything, she knew that people lived differently here than on Earth. Today was no exception. Since the cut-off of transits (supplies and new colonists) from Earth, situations like men doing only the dangerous space work polarized male-female interactions further.

As for women...

May Ri knew when signing up that the underlying reason she was here was to expand the gene pool, thus the auditorium she entered. Chicago held similar expectations for her: Under the Decath regime, what was a housewife? Here, she worked to expand the habitat, farmed, and trained in Mars machinery design while living segregated in the women's connected domes. Men visited during scheduled Honeymoons. The contract she'd signed detailed her responsibilities: She'd consented to marry within a (Mars) year.

That Reina called today's meet and greet the "Meat Market" drew recollections of pre-penthouse level Zocalo butcher shops only the most wealthy could visit back home—her previous home. May Ri's body kept its own count of time, way more than the 73 day transit and 120 days on Mars—Men looked really good, today. Within the year time limit, she got to choose a husband, not her parents or a Decath minister.

But...

Considering her bad luck at barely 22—no, 11 Mars—deeper worries stopped her with a hand on the doorframe at the entrance. Her hand shook.

The door monitor said, "Show some confidence, girl, or he'll say No."

May Ri had completely missed the older woman. She rushed in...

Auditorium was too grandiose a word. Seven men in greenish EM Mars jumpsuits stood on a raised stage of epoxied regolith inside a small up-lit shroom dome of pastel greens, reds, and black dusting. Since most Martians squatted or sat crosslegged, the younger women congregated together on square pillows, talking lowly and pointing. Six men talked quietly between themselves.

The seventh...

May Ri inhaled sharply, holding it, walking slowly, scanning the meat for sale. She'd seen few men during the last months; only in intradome meetings or by vid.

She needed to focus.

Look at each.

But, she looked at the seventh again. Stopping when she barked her shins on the knee-high stage.

The seventh had coffee-color skin diluted with a lot of oat milk. Long fingers poked furiously at his book plate. While the others seemed preoccupied by their audience, the sandy-haired guy with cowlicks poked, then touched his ear implant, turning away to talk lowly in a pleasant voice.

That was a magnetic sight.

She warned herself it might be her abstinence, so she judged the rest of the exterior, up and down, and his smile and happy nod when he finished. A glance at the other women confirmed they'd noticed, too.

May Ri said loudly, "I choose him," pointing.

One of the other women jumped to her feet, bowling over five others. In the chatter, May Ri heard, "Can she do that?"

A hand on May Ri's shoulder made her glance back to see red hair and freckles. Her half-pouting teenage tutor, Reina said, "I was going to choose him, too."

"I—" May Ri sputtered.

Reina shook her, giggling. "Take him."

"Wait, Roger? You're married. Via Vid-downlink!"

Does that mean... Two...? Wait, what?

Reina directed her grey eyes at the other group of men. She whispered, "Roger died a month ago in an airlock accident. Didn't want to depress you. I get to choose again." The men heard it and looked worried when she pointed. "I'm choosing Rodriguez." A short swarthy man with short-cropped black hair stood bolt upright.

A shadow made her look up. Her gaze met deep brown eyes and an apprehensive smile. "I'm Randolf," he said in a West European Conglomerate accent. He offered a hand. Professional, doubtless. Not a day under 30 Earth, maybe 35. "What's your name?"

She blinked, hand rising, but didn't turn away; forced herself. She couldn't interpret his nod. She forced herself to think Lust at first sight.

And failed. What came instead was the hope of someone who might treat her as an equal.

Stupid.

Reina cut in. "May Ri's training as an engineer. She never gives up. She's fun, too."

"Fun?" May Ri thought, scoffing, looking at Reina. Then Randolf took her hand. They locked gazes again.

Reina whispered into her ear, mischievously, "I hacked the showers and Rodriguez's cabin cam. His nickname, The Rod, is well deserved. As for Randolf, he's—"

"Randy?"

Reina laughed. Randy answered, "Yes?" looking confused. #RSMarsNeededWomen 07

[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]

#BoostingIsSharing

#gender #fiction #writer #author #sf #sff #sciencefiction
#writing #writingcommunity #writersOfMastodon #writers
#RSdiscussion #RSstory #microfiction #flashfiction #tootfic #smallstory

I'm delighted to say that it's back! My month-long "Meet #TheLastMan" module with SPACE (Signum Portals for Adult Continuing Education) #online via #SignumUniversity is currently a candidate for June 2025. Voting runs through May 1. Early voters will help decide the scheduling of the live discussion sessions.

This #MaryShelley novel is one of the most relevant books we can read right now.

More info: blackberry.signumuniversity.or

Teaser: youtu.be/k2EcVRnhii0?si=8YY6U3