Rise

Queer Sci Fi's Tenth Annual Flash Fiction Contest

RISE (noun / verb)

Eight definitions to inspire writers around the world, and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:

1) An upward slope or movement
2) A beginning or origin
3) An increase in amount or number
4) An angry reaction
5) To take up arms
6) To return from death
7) To become heartened or elated
8) To exert oneself to meet a challenge

Rise features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.

Published:
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink (https://www.otherworldsink.com)
Editors:
Ryane Chatman
Genres:
Fantasy, Horror, Paranormal, Romance, Sci Fi
Tags:
anthology, bisexual, fantasy, flash fiction, gay, lesbian, LGBT, QSF Flash Fiction Series, transgender
Excerpt:

Tales From Tharassas

Tharassas Cycle Book 0

These three tales tell the story of Tharassas before the Tharassas Cycle, including the origin of the hencha queens, the ce’faine, and the colonization of the Highlands, essential companions for the four novels that make up the cycle:

The Fallen Angel

Charlie Fah, Cha’Fah to most of the world, has never fit in with the other citizens of Gully Town, thanks to his darker skin that sets him apart. But one day, an Angel arrives on a supply run from Earth, and what happens next sets Charlie on a new path that will turn his life upside down.

The Last Run

Sera is the last runner from Earth, bringing badly needed supplies to the Tharassas Colony across a twenty-five year gulf between the planets. Jas works on a hencha farm to make ends meet, harvesting berries from the semi-sentient plants. Neither one that knows their lives—and worlds—are about to change forever.

The Emp Test

Jey awakens to find himself in the care of a handsome stranger—a cheff from one of the mountain tribes. Afraid for his life, Jey has no choice but to let the man take care of him and his broken leg. Avain is on his Aud'ling—the coming-of-age test that requires him to spend a couple months away from his own people. The two of them will have to come to an understanding if they're going to help one another.

The Last Run and The Emp Test have been published before in previous stand-alone editions, but The Fallen Angel is a new story written exclusively for this collection.

Published:
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink (https://www.otherworldsink.com)
Editors:
Ryane Chatman
Cover Artists:
J. Scott Coatsworth
Genres:
Fantasy, Lesfic, Romance, Sci Fi
Tags:
fantasy, J. Scott Coatsworth, lesbian, LGBT
Excerpt:

“Grappa, tell me a story.”

I sit back and stare at little Ellya, looking up at me from my lap—all of six years old, and beautiful, her skin the color of the wet earth down by the river. Lighter than mine, but her hair is kinky too, a throwback to one of our ancestors. Probably an Angel.

Wind whips the heavy cloth of the tent. Outside, a summer storm lashes the mountain valley where we make our home in the warmer months. Their parents are likely happy for the break from all those inquisitive minds.

Inside it’s warm and comfortable, and all the children of the village have gathered here for story time, seated on the woven purple rug that takes up a good part of the tent.

Ioyo, my grandson, sits in the front row, next to his best friend Onley, watching me eagerly.

I kiss Ellya on the forehead, feeling her eagerness through the emp nestled in its pouch on my neck. “What would you like to hear?”

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I have many stories from my life of almost seventy years—more than fifty of them spent here in the mountains, taking care of my little flock. In that time, the ce’faine have grown to almost five hundred, living a nomadic life spanning three generations. They are my family in the truest sense, my proudest accomplishment.

She reaches up to touch my cheek, her little fingers warm against my skin. “Tell me about the Long Trek.”

I close my eyes, a mixture of pain and pride filling me. Such a long time ago, but I still dream about it often, that rough passage that brought us out of Egypt and into the holy land.

I laugh at my own erudition. None of the children here have even the slightest idea what Egypt was. What Earth was.

In our great wisdom, or perhaps our obstinate stubbornness, we decided to make a clean break with the old culture of the Heartland, discarding everything we've been taught and beginning fresh.

I rub my wrinkled chin. “Let's see. It was a very long time ago. You weren’t even a wisp in your mother's eye.” I look at her—my granddaughter—so perfect in every way. I don't want the world to change her. I don't want her to face the ugliness that I did, growing up in a repressive culture. I want to shelter her from all of that.

Of course, none of us can protect our children from the beauty and peril that life brings.

I stretch out my hands, cracking my old knuckles—a bad habit, that. I take a sip of the herbal tea Merwyn, Ellya’s mother, made for me, measuring my time. It’s a poor substitute for akka, one of my only regrets about leaving the Heartland.

So many years passed. So few left to me. I must teach them while I can, this new generation.

I clear my throat, and the chatter of little voices silences. “Once upon a time, I lived in a wicked place, a cruel city by the sea called Gully Town. There were five islands, like five long fingers—we called them spines. And beyond, only a few small villages and many farms.” I close my eyes, remembering that dark time. “They called me Charlie back then. Or Cha’Fah…”

COLLAPSE

Clarity

Queer Sci Fi's Ninth Flash Fiction Contest

Clarity (noun)

Four definitions to inspire writers around the world and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:

1) Coherent and intelligible
2) Transparent or pure
3) Attaining certainty about something
4) Easy to see or hear

Clarity features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.

Published:
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink (https://www.otherworldsink.com)
Editors:
Ryane Chatman
Cover Artists:
J. Scott Coatsworth
Genres:
Fantasy, Horror, Paranormal, Sci Fi
Tags:
anthology, bisexual, fantasy, flash fiction, gay, gender fluid, lesbian, LGBT, transgender
Excerpt:

Save the World

Twenty Science Fiction Authors Fix the World

Climate change is no longer a vague future threat. Forests are burning, currents are shifting, and massive storms dump staggering amounts of water in less than 24 hours Sometimes it’s hard to look ahead and see a hopeful future.

We asked sci-fi writers to send us stories about ways to save the world from climate change.  From the myriad of stories we received, we chose the twenty most amazing (and hopefully prescient) tales.

Dive in and find out how we might mitigate climate change via solar mirrors, carbon capture, genetic manipulation, and acts of change both large and small.

The future’s not going to fix itself.

Published:
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink (https://www.otherworldsink.com)
Editors:
Ryane Chatman
Cover Artists:
J. Scott Coatsworth
Tags:
anthology

Ink

Queer Sci Fi's Eight Annual Flash Fiction Contest

INK (NOUN)

Five definitions to inspire writers around the world and an unlimited number of possible stories to tell:

1) A colored fluid used for writing
2) The action of signing a deal
3) A black liquid ejected by squid
4) Publicity in the written media
5) A slang word for tattoos

Ink features 300-word speculative flash fiction stories from across the rainbow spectrum, from the minds of the writers of Queer Sci Fi.

Published:
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink (https://www.otherworldsink.com)
Editors:
Ryane Chatman
Cover Artists:
J. Scott Coatsworth
Genres:
Fantasy, Horror, Paranormal, Romance, Sci Fi
Excerpt:

“Vervain had watched, one by one, as her childhood friends blossomed with red, the words of their soulmates inked into their skins. The stories of their lives together, from the day they met to the day they would die, unfolding each day. Her sister Iris, an aspiring bard, had woken one morning after meeting a girl in the village, the words poet meets potion-makershining bright and scarlet. Vervain’s friend Raven had dashed across the marketplace the day two separate lines had sprung forth on their skin—two loves, three souls entwined in the ink of their hearts.” —Lauren Triola, The Unmarked

“I love our sentient AI high school, EduTron 6000 (kids call her “Edie”). She plays soothing classical music in study hall and always listens when you have a bad day. But she’s a stickler for rules, and hates graffiti, which put a major damper on my epic prom-posal plan.” —Brenna Harvey, EduTron 6000 + Principal Vertner 4Ever

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“I get out of the shower and it's there. Dripping down the mirror—splip—and forming a rivulet of color across the tile floor. Thinner than paint, more vibrant than water. Sometimes it's iridescent, but today it's just...bright. A stream of colorful consciousness leading me across the bathroom, down the hall, out of...wait. I go to my bedroom and hastily put on whatever I can reach. Yesterday's bra, the jeans from the floor, finger comb my short hair, a random t-shirt—purple. The same color the ink is today. Does that mean something?” —Geneva Vand, The Colors of Fate

“Marianne paced the length of the small hall that connected the living room, and the door to the outside, to the bedroom, and the door to the inside. Temporary steps, tracing a path towards a temporary solution to a permanent problem. Beyond the crack of the door, she saw her wife sleeping soundly in the cool of the late night. Temporary wife, temporary bedroom.” —Brooke K. Bell, Temporary/Permanent

“The round stone room that they lock the poet in contains nothing but a writing desk. The desk, of course, is fully stocked. Piles of creamy paper, elegantly carved sable-fur brushes, a pyramid of neatly-stacked inksticks, and an inkstone, its well full of perfectly still water. Sunlight streams down from a single window, high overhead and barred. Too high to reach even when she stands on the desk, its thin legs wobbling beneath her.” —Jamie Lackey, Inksticks and Paper Swans

“Rna’la arrived at Intergalactic Date-A-Thon and signed in using zir own gelatinous fluid (no scratchy ballpoint for zem, thanks!) The human woman collecting signatures blushed pinkly. Rna’la’s hearts throbbed in zir throat. Probably not attending. Ze passed several individuals in the hallway. Some bowed, some ignored zem. Not everyone recognized the current ruler of Th’ul.” —M.X Kelly, To Have and to Hold and to Hold and to Hold

COLLAPSE

Wonderland

Life After the Zombie Apocalypse

Zeke is a hermit in his late forties who lives a quiet life in a small cabin in the Western Montana mountains, a few miles outside of Thompson Falls. He’s gotten used to being alone since the end of the world, and has everything he needs. Everything but someone to talk to.

Nathan is a younger man on a cross-country trek, searching the country for someone... anyone still alive. Saddled with a ghost from his old life and a case of OCD, he stumbles upon Thompson Falls and a pack of rabid dogs.

Rescued by Zeke, he has to figure out how to be human again. And with Christmas just a week away, both men have to figure out if there’s something left to be hopeful for, and if they might have a future together.

Published:
Publisher: Other Worlds Ink (https://www.otherworldsink.com)
Editors:
Ryane Chatman
Cover Artists:
J. Scott Coatsworth
Genres:
Sci Fi
Tags:
Christmas, J. Scott Coatsworth, Montana, post-apocalyptic
Excerpt:

Zeke returned to the kitchen and pulled a couple dirty plates from the sink.

Nathan had flinched when Zeke had hugged him. He had started to shake.

Did that mean Nathan liked him? Was afraid of him, disgusted by him? He didn’t know how to read the signs. He'd always been crap with all that touchy feely stuff.

He glared at the stacks of dirty dishes. He hadn't quite finished cleaning the place, but maybe he could keep Nathan out of there until he had a chance to get things organized.

His visitor seemed like a nice guy. Zeke wished his gaydar was better.

He washed the plates with some dish soap, giving them a good scrub, and dried them with some of his precious paper towels. He pulled out the last of his smoked salmon and put it on the plates, along with the fruit salad. "I have a few Snapples left," he called. "Lemon or peach?"

"Peach is fine."

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Zeke hauled the plates and a couple forks out into the living room and presented one of them to Nathan with a flourish. "Compliments of the chef."

Nathan laughed. "What I wouldn't give to go to a nice restaurant again." He took the plate and set it on his lap.

"I would love to have cheese again. Especially mozzarella."

"I would die for a Hershey's Special Dark chocolate bar."

"I loved dark chocolate." Zeke returned with the drinks and a couple more paper towels and took a seat on the floor against the wall by the fireplace where he could see Nathan properly. "Where did you start out on your journey?"

"Vermont. Seems like I've been walking forever." Nathan took a bite of the salmon. "What about you? Ooh, this is delicious."

Zeke looked around the old cabin. So many memories. "I grew up here. This was my Dad's place. He passed away a few years ago."

"It's... nice." Nathan took a drag on the bottle of Peach Snapple.

"It's a pack-rat's heaven," Zeke corrected him.

"Yeah." Nathan smiled wanly. "Sorry. My OCD is getting the better of me. I thought I had it under control, but the dog attack, and being in a place like this... Stress is a big trigger for me."

"Oh man. I'm sorry." A light went on in Zeke's head. "That's why you wanted the Xanax." He glanced outside. It was getting dark. "I can run to town right now—"

"It's all right. I can cope until tomorrow. The Xanax just helps take the edge off for a few hours; gives me time to cope. I've learned other ways to manage it."

"So... OCD. Like that TV detective, Monk?"

Nathan winced. "Yeah. Kinda. It's more complicated than that."

"How long have you had it?" Zeke's gaze lingered on Nathan's naked chest. He was feeling warmer than he ought to.

"Since I was ten." Nathan looked at the piles of stuff around the room.

Poor guy looked nervous as hell. "You think hoarding is a kind of OCD?" Zeke joked to lighten the mood.

Nathan snorted. "This isn't hoarding. It's survival."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Nathan was handsome, even dirty as he was. Zeke decided that he wanted to kiss him rather badly.

He shifted his trousers. He wasn't usually so out of control like this.

Of course, Nathan had the whole only other living human being on the face of the Earth thing going for him too.

COLLAPSE