LINKDING

excerpt: She knew to expect Kierk’s homegrown MDMA analog to hit like a blissy staticky tsunami. She knew to expect Mona’s band—formerly the Noctambulists, now Gristleswing—to pack the dancefloor into an electric sea of skin and sweat. She knew to expect the long rambling goodbye pep-talk from Vawn on the rooftop and the frantic-turned-tender goodbye sex with Ilya at hers. She did not expect to stumble home and find a corpse on her doorstep. ➜ a short story about a dystopian future, a murder investigation, community, and someone who's trying to leave the only home she's ever known ➜ the information reveals over the course of the story are handled so well ➜ and the narrative tone of...hm. of inevitability? of sadness. of people trying their best to hold the line against the constant pressure of external forces. idk it's real good. ➜ written for a Stop Copaganda short story contest! ➜ 4.7k words

excerpt: If you were to drive to my sister Violet’s house today, you would find yourself at a very different place from the one I encountered on my first trip. The road up the mountain has been paved, for one thing, to make it more accessible to the tourists who now support it. Back then if you were behind the wheel of anything other than a farm truck, you were as likely to wreck an axle or lose a tire to the ruts; not knowing, I’d driven the Jag that day. ➤ fantasy novelette about family, and two sisters trying to reconnect after many years of estrangement ➤ a quiet and contemplative sort of vibe ➤ the slow reveals were effective ➤ I'm not quite sure about the pacing/vibe of the ending, but overall still a thoroughly interesting and enjoyable story ➤ 12k words in length

excerpt: Taifa of Tuluz Spring 1194 “A wondrous thing is happening at the university!” said Avram to Isaac the Blind. “Like nothing you’ve ever seen!” “I daresay you’re right,” Isaac answered, “since the last time I saw anything, I was younger than you.” ➤ historical fantasynovelette set in a muslim kingdom on the iberian peninsula in the 12th century, with a jewish scholar as the viewpoint character ➤ I love the setting, richly full of a wide variety of types of people and languages and religions, with universities and scientific progress and people doing magic, all interacting with each other ➤ the mystery at the heart of the story is that someone is stealing people's languages of study, on purpose, leaving behind only whatever their first language was. why, and how? and is it reversible? ➤ it's about people's relationships with language and with knowledge and with the world. it's great! ➤ 14k words in length

quote: The sand underfoot was still fresh with ripples where it had been raked to hide the blood. The sea rushed in over Leris’s feet, the wave in the water meeting the waves in the sand and smoothing out, inch by inch, the remaining evidence of the first bout. “Ready?” It was the first word Gerthe had spoken all day. The sun was just shy of its peak, bearing down on the spectators and the competitors in equal measure. It would have been different, in a proper amphitheatre: the two pairs of combatants would have regarded each other from the shaded safety of the tunnels, sizing the others up and taking the time to discuss strategy. But this was the archipelago, and one of the rimward isles besides, and the closest amphitheatre was a week’s sail away on Leshin. Here there was nothing but a patch of sand, bounded on one side by temporary wooden stands and on the other by the ocean. ➤ a full novella published online for free the same way a short story would be! ➤ secondary world fantasy about two women from the outskirts of empire, who don't fit the identities their cultures expect of them but are also out of place within the empire ➤ they're gladiators in a partnership where one in a pair of gladiators takes a "swordform" and the other wields them ➤ great characters and great worldbuilding and great reflections on identity in this context! ➤ I loved Leris and Gerthe, and Ulmo too ➤ and the Empress herself and her story is fascinating, and I can see how in a different narrative her backstory would be the focus of a heroic narrative, and I love that that's not the story we get, this isn't a "monarchy is good with the right person in charge" kind of story like so much fantasy is ➤ the narrative perspective on religion is really cool too ➤ 36k words in length

quote: There are seven hundred aliens hidden in Miko’s backpack, and the Galactic Security Agent currently studying her passport (hopefully) has no clue. The agent is an alien themselves, some tentacular species with assistive devices hooked into its uniform to mist its soft skin every few seconds. A puff of evaporated solution exits from one of the devices by its neck as it draws her passport closer to its pitted eyes. ➤ a scifi short story set in space, about a smuggler who left her sister behind when she left the shitty planet she grew up on ➤ but her latest mission has her returning to that planet to deliver the goods ➤ (the goods are hundreds of teeny tiny sentient bioluminescent jellyfish fleeing civil war) ➤ I enjoyed the worldbuilding, and the difficult emotions about family, and how the things that felt world-endingly true at 17 don't need to be true forever ➤ 7k words in length

quote: Andrew was convinced the writer had been trans. By this point his friends were tired of hearing about it, but he had no one else to tell besides the internet, and he was too smart for that. That would be asking for it. ➤ short story about a trans man who's obsessed with the m/m novels of a dead historical novelist who he's convinced was trans ➤ and about the dreams he has where he meets her and talks with her ➤ it's a story that feels unsatisfying but like, in a satisfying way? ➤ idk how to explain! it makes me want to reread it 3 more times and think about the way one's relationship with oneself is mediated through the stories one reads and loves ➤ it's really good ➤ 6k words in length

Quote: Outside the viewport, light and shadow stitched a tapestry across the surface of Himalia. The shuttle ticked the countdown, thrusters firing to control descent to the docking cradle at Base Camp. I videoed everything, but the footage looked like a million other landings on a million other rocky airless surfaces. What made this different? Well, it was me, and this was home. ➤ Scifi novelette about growing up somewhere you always know you're going to have to leave eventually, because it was never intended to be permanent ➤ and leaving your best friend behind, who wants to never leave, because it's home ➤ it's really good!! I had a lot of feelings about the characters, and the way Niri is drawn in Jenny's life through her absence in this day of her return ➤ also it's set in space, on one of the satellites of Jupiter! ➤ wistful vibes ➤ 8k words in length

quote: Dad says Auntie was beautiful when she was young, with a bright-eyed gaze, pure yet alluring, and a slender, curving waist. When happy, her face was like springtime. When sorrowful, she was like a thin willow bending in the wind. Sometimes I try to imagine my aunt’s youthful beauty, and I end up thinking of those fox demon women in Zhiyi novels, eyes flickering like stars. With a slight twist of the demon’s waist, your soul is hers. But Auntie was the type who’s a thousand miles removed—aloof, full of rebuffs. Every boy who saw her back then suffered pangs of desire, yet they shunned her. Before Deng Baolin met her husband, she scratched the faces of thirteen boys. She was a prickly beauty, a thorny rose. In short, she was completely unlike the person before my eyes. ➤ scifi short story translated from chinese; originally published in 2021 ➤ it's a fascinating outside-outside pov, a nephew telling the story of his aunt, whose story is that of her famous physicist-astronaut husband ➤ the multiple layers of abstraction work well for this story -- and the narrative loops around itself in how it's told too, wandering forwards and backwards in time to circle around the heart of things ➤ which is really a story about family and about place and about how you decide what to prioritise in your life ➤ it's lovely and thoughtful and wistful. I really liked it! ➤ 7k words in length

summary: <blockquote>If a robot stands alone in a field, staring into the forlorn distance as it obeys the last order it was given by a human, that order being, “Don’t move until we come back for you,” which it can remember uttered with a cruel sneer by a man who has taken a cruel dislike for it, the kind of man who will not be coming back, if the robot understood at once that no one would ever be coming back,</blockquote> ➤ really more of a prose poem than a standard short story ➤ about the experience of being a robot given unfair orders under unbreakable laws ➤ a satisfying read and I loved the structure ➤ 2k words in length

no summary ➤ huh, in the end I'm not entirely convinced I LIKE this novella but it's odd and compelling and interesting for sure ➤ about the academic study of history in a context where a very specific subset of people have access to a very specific subset of historical figures to ask them directly about what they remember ➤ asking questions about who's an insider vs an outsider in academic study, about the values of different approaches to history ➤ ultimately I think it turned too much into a story about the fantastical elements in the narrative and didn't engage as deeply with the themes as I thought it would at the beginning ➤ but it's still a very interesting and well done story and I'm glad I read it! ➤ 22k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>Eveline yellow-dressed golden-hair. Eveline. She came to me four years ago. I think it was four years. Maybe five. No, no. Seven. Time passes so strangely now, after so long, the world drip-dropped now like honey, sticky and swimming. I was a different woman once. So bright and sharp. Now I have the dreaming sickness, a cruel twist of modern medicine, time coming unglued, the price we pay for longevity. If you can pay for all the treatment, you all end up like me in the end. Not the old kind of dementia, where you abandon pieces of yourself to time, no, we’ve cured that—this kind is new, I abandon nothing, all of it just as sharp and kept as ever within the cage of my mind. The dreaming sickness takes away its relevance, its place. I am, as Vonnegut said, unstuck in time.</blockquote> ➤ A sci-fi short story about an elderly woman hundreds of years old, making use of every life extending treatment she can, but her grasp on time and on memory is no longer good ➤ Focuses on her relationship with her family, with her home aide, with her fear of death, with her experience of the confusion of past and present ➤ Evocative melancholy wistful tone, really effective! ➤ At the end of the story I'm left with many questions, but in a good way ➤ 4k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>When you were young, Mama sent you away from the land of the dead and told you not to look back. You remember the grey skirts they passed out at the border. Long lines like sinew, and waiting in them. The dark cavern sky of Asphodel. Sometimes the wind brought the honeyed scent of Elysian apples. But that is where heroes go, so you had to stay in line.</blockquote> ➤ about grief and loss; losing a parent young, and losing access to that parent's culture and language; and about holding on to what things you can ➤ the story isn't specific about exactly what happened in the disaster when the main character was a young child but the hints are enough to be pretty dark ➤ beautiful, longing, sharp and bittersweet ➤ second person pov ➤ 1k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>Ojoa and I had to keep Dr. Brinsen happy, because he was going to save the world. Under his leadership, Matora Facility had been tasked with ending the deadly outbreak that had earned our planet the designation of failed colony in the Interstellar feeds. Immunodeficiency was common on terraformed worlds, but novel pathogens rarely survived the medical regimens that kept colonists safe. Our virus, the exception, had killed thousands and put an end to off-world transit. Compared with the work of developing a cure, Ojoa’s projects were fanciful distractions. I was a distraction.</blockquote> ➤ an original story about AI personhood, and about the bond between one AI who is different from the others, and their bond with a human who is different from other humans ➤ it's also about the difficulties of caregiving during a pandemic, and the toll it takes ➤ a beautiful, quiet, tender story about finding where you belong, no matter what others think ➤ and ultimately, in my read, about a neurodivergent robot and a queerplatonic relationship, which like. AS ALWAYS, TAKE ME TO THERE. I'm here for it. ➤ 6k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>He could see some of those flies as he came level with the glass-paned door. That Mask-damned cuff just left his wealth strewn about, jewelry box open, silk neck-cloths on the bed. Once, Tseges would have considered those neck-cloths alone a splendid haul... but now he wanted more. These people owed him more. First, though, he had to get inside.</blockquote> ➤ an original story that I believe to be set in the same world as Carrick's Rook & Rose trilogy, which I haven't read yet but which is on my tbr list ➤ having read this story and enjoyed it definitely increases my interest in that trilogy! ➤ this one's about a thief who gets talked into helping a legend steal information to get back at people who misuse their positions of power ➤ the importance of public infrastructure! the usefulness of recordkeeping! the will to carry out audacious crime! ➤ fun and interesting and I want to know more about this world ➤ 9k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>Even death is no match for a trio of elderly, stubborn, ever-sparring sisters, who refuse to rest in peace while their grudges live on…</blockquote> ➤ an original story about ghosts and toxic family dynamics and feeling trapped ➤ the three sisters who are the main characters are all difficult people in their own way, and all fully-realized characters I truly believe in ➤ I loved that it's a story where the moral isn't "family should always stick together." family can be wonderful but it can also be awful, and sometimes you're better off apart ➤ 14k words in length ➤ I think it would be stronger for being shorter but I still enjoyed it

Summary: <blockquote>Maribel heard but did not see when the new pig-boy was named. She never went down into the village of San Rafael if she could help it. But she couldn’t miss the wailing lament of the village mothers echoing from the church courtyard, a wrenching sound, though traditional and expected. It made Maribel shiver despite the heat. It had only been a month, Only a month without a pig-boy. But she should have known that the new one would have to be named soon. The sun was retreating, the nights getting longer, and that meant the high season for pilgrims was coming.</blockquote> ➤ in a village where people possessed by demons are turned into javelinas, cared for by a pig-boy for the rest of their lives, what happens when the new pig-boy has a little too much empathy for his charges? ➤ excellent use of fantasy alternate world to engage with questions of the failures of the justice system and the penal system, and the ways people become complicit with the system ➤ really well done pov character ➤ 5k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>The far stall in the ladies room in the Land of the Dead was backed up again. The day had already started terribly, with an email that hit my phone as I walked the 387 steps from my staff cabin to the front desk, an email from Lana saying Vera, I wanted you to find out directly from me that I’ve started seeing somebody. Call if you want to talk.</blockquote> ➤ about queer intergenerational friendship and mentorship, about being a young adult trying to find your place, about death and what it means to you, about living through the death of all your peers and coming out the other side, about hope and love and making connections. ➤ holy shit this gave me so many emotions. READ IT READ IT READ IT. ➤ also I adore the title. pinsker writes great titles. ➤ 6k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>According to the ways, when the head of a household passed away, his womenfolk had to refrain from lifting their feet in dance and their voices in song until the moon cast its full light down for the third time. During that interval, which, to be clear, could be three months, the mourners remained cloistered in their home and performed ritual ablutions to cleanse themselves of death, while their family and friends slowly entombed them within walls of food containers and condolence cards. When her mom asked Oona to join her in observing this ancient duty, Oona said nah. The explosion that followed was totally understandable, but through it all Oona remained immovable and flippant.</blockquote> ➤ about the difficulties of being a teen girl whose dad just died, and who is trying to figure out her identity as an othered visible minority, with a large and close-knit multigenerational family whose older generations are more connected with traditional culture and who want her to be too ➤ the traditional culture is selkies ➤ yeah it's a GREAT premise and I love how carefully and believably the selkie culture is imagined, and what the experience of being part of a landed selkie family would be ➤ very emotionally affecting too! ➤ 8k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>Mirae sits on her bed, parting her hair with one hand and feeling for the access port on the back of her head with the other. She finds the notched edges of the cap and twists counterclockwise until it comes loose. Her eye twitches as she slides the plug into her skull. The sensation isn’t strong enough for her to say it hurts, but she doesn’t know how else to describe it. Her post-op recovery had been difficult. She had fever dreams of worms crawling into her brain through the still-healing metal port. Even after she was fully recovered and ready to be plugged in for her first update, images of the plug’s pin connectors piercing too deep and puncturing her occipital lobe made her hands shake.</blockquote> ➤ a short story about a young woman who was given a neural implant to improve her abilities and skills in school to be able to get a good job ➤ about parental expectations and abusive control ➤ trying to figure out who you are and what you care about when you've never been given the opportunity to be anything but obedient ➤ I had feelings ➤ 4k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>In your head, the dead man wakes up crying. He stutters into awareness just as you manage to stanch the tears welling in your eyes, a response to the pressure of his presence on your limbic system. Your fingers brush, irritated, against the port at the back of your neck, catching at the ridges of the drive that carries his consciousness. He’s confused, lashing out to wrest temporary control of your limbs from you in quick staccato bursts before you can yank them back. “Stop that,” you snap, and then, remembering your client, soften the message with a “please.” Your right pinky twitches and you lasso it in, exerting your will over its movement. You splay your hands on your desk and watch them carefully, pay attention to your toes lest they start off on unwelcome dance routines, but in your head the dead man quiets, and you know he’s beginning to understand.</blockquote> ➤ sci-fi story about a woman with a port-drive into her brain that allowed her to be a great child actor when she was young, and gives her a career as an adult of plugging in the mental backup of a dead person to visit bereaved families who want their beloved dead back again ➤ about identity, embodiment, and not knowing how to want things ➤ also about body-sharing ➤ in second-person pov which works so well for the things this story is about and the things it's doing! the main character is someone who spends most of her time being someone else, after all ➤ it's so compellingly written! ➤ has the perfect ending, which can be so hard to pull off right ➤ 7k words in length ➤ this is the first published story by this author, and something this great is her first; I am excited to think of where she might go from here!

Summary: <blockquote>“You really do a nice bird,” said Hua from her stepstool above Chimalus. He noticed a strand of black hair sticking to her cheek. She brushed it with the back of her hand which left a brown streak matching the branch she worked on. “It’s tough to get the tailfeathers right,” Chimalus said. “My name means Bluebird. Did you know that?” “How appropriate.” Hua leaned back and studied his work. “It’s American Indian, right? Do you know what tribe?” She braced her elbow against the unpainted wall below her tree then added a detail. The mural so far stretched along the hallway to their right until it curved up out of sight. To their left, unpainted metal, punctuated by doors and a corridor curved up too. Chimalus never shook the feeling he rested at a wheel’s bottom, like the bottom of a hamster wheel. A chatting couple strolled toward them, but neither glanced at the painting as they passed.</blockquote> ➤ about a stowaway on a generation ship ➤ also about art and being part of a community of amateur artists whose work is worthwhile ➤ I loved the details about the problems with microbial growth in a closed system full of humans who are constantly shedding skin particles, and that the main character sees it as an important job to be part of the clean-up ➤ the future is unknown but worth being a part of ➤ 7k words in length

Summary: <blockquote>During one of the much smaller disasters that preceded the really big disaster, I met a lot of my neighbors online. I can’t remember if we set up the WhatsApp group because of the pandemic or the civil disorder or both. My Minneapolis block had always been reasonably friendly—people would take their kids around on Halloween, and I knew the names of my next-door neighbors—but everyone on the WhatsApp group got closer. When the Internet and cell phones went down, my next-door neighbor to the north, Tanesha, built a little booth in her yard out of plywood, with corkboard inside and a roof, and painted WHATSUP on the outside, so people could leave each other messages inside. When I went in the first day to check it out, people were already posting up notes asking to swap stuff—coffee for condoms, cat food for diapers, a bike repair for a plumbing repair. The stores were empty but maybe someone on the block had what you needed.</blockquote>

excerpt: <blockquote>Well hear this one time nuh. I tellin’ all yuh the queen must be alien or something not of this earth, because in 1966 she come and visit Trinidad when I was just a schoolgirl, and I gone with my classmates to see she, and before we gone, the headmaster tell we, we have to throw flowers at the queen.</blockquote>

Summary: <blockquote>The tenth time Jakey broke the rules, he put a sandwich in the mailbox where the window boy could get it. Mom had taken her sleep-quick pills and gone to bed after dinner, on account of her headaches. And Dad was dozing in front of the TV, chin on his chest and a half-empty glass clutched in his hand. It got still enough that the only sounds were Dad’s shows and the hum of the house filters, so Jakey slipped into the kitchen and put together a ham and cheddar on a plate, then placed it in the parcel chamber near the front door. He sat by the parlor window for a good long while after, curled up at the bench cushions, and his eyelids drooped now and again until he began to see the shadows move.</blockquote>

Summary: <blockquote>I’ve always loved birds. When I was five I asked my dad for a bird feeder so I could see birds out my window when I was sitting at my desk doing remote school, but he just handed me his phone and said, “you know how to look up videos.” I do know, but bird videos aren’t as cool as having my very own bird friends that came up to my window to say hello. And anyway, I already had a tablet when I was five because kindergarten went on remote school after the wildfire that burned down the school building and made us have to drive in the middle of the night to my uncle’s house and sleep on his floor for two whole weeks, so I just used my tablet.</blockquote>

excerpt: <blockquote>DRAMATIS PERSONAE ACHILLES: A young man yet untouched by love or war. PYTHIA: An oracle who sees alien futures. THE CHORUS: #mlm #5k #patrochilles #coffeeshopAU #meta #canon-compliant • • • • SETTING: The adyton at the Temple of Delphi. Smoke rises from a vent in the floor, partially obscuring PYTHIA, who is sitting on a high stool carefully positioned behind the smoke. ACHILLES stands, supplicant. Behind him, the CHORUS looks at their phones.</blockquote>

Summary: <blockquote>This is the first poem Xu Anshi gave to us; the first memory she shared with us for safekeeping. It is the first one that she composed in High Mheng—which had been and remains a debased language, a blend between that of the San-Tay foreigners, and that of the Mheng, Anshi’s own people. She composed it on Shattered Pine Prison, sitting in the darkness of her cell, listening to the faint whine of the bots that crawled on the walls—melded to the metal and the crisscrossing wires, clinging to her skin—monitoring every minute movement she made—the voices of her heart, the beat of her thoughts in her brain, the sweat on her body.</blockquote>

Summary: <blockquote>Past the sparrow-dark dust fields of Far Euniply, at the edge of the Joined Cultures’ galactic borders, within the section of space they call the Emptiness, the Station floats. The Station waits. The Station prepares itself for the inevitability of another explorer’s arrival. no I can’t, I won’t, never again— STOP Station has lost a millisecond. It searches its databanks but cannot find any data recording or logs for that specific moment in time.</blockquote> ➤ I'm not quite sure I follow everything but at its heart it's about an intense platonic relationship between a sentient ship and its human and I'm so here for that

Summary: <blockquote>Elizabeth Mauldin, driving fast along the skeletal remains of Arizona’s US-89, somewhere near Tuba City, saw a far-off glint and yanked her steering wheel hard to the left. Her custom-built tow truck left the broken roadbed and plowed into the scrub, red sand rooster-tailing behind her as the eight knobby rear tires bit hard, shredding small clumps of sage-green bushes into confetti. Bouncing in her harness, Mauldin felt adrenaline coursing through her body, easing the dull ache that constantly throbbed in her gut. She wasn’t sure if the glint was another ground-vehicle or an old, broken window that had happened to catch the sunlight. More than anything, though, she hoped it was Big Bertha.</blockquote> ➤ oh my god it's a horse girl story about bonding with the wild mustang except it's rogue ai cars instead of horses

Summary: <blockquote>Hanh tried not to look at the greasy fingerprints marking the seams on James’ silicone skin. “How do you feel, James?” “Dizzy.” He swung his legs against the workbench in perfect imitation of the teen he resembled. “But not so much as before.” The IT guy mashed his hands in an oily towel. He had thick forearms and a purple skullcap. “I replaced the gyroscopic components, but that’s not the source of the problem. His balance processing’s all screwed up, and the gyros are getting banged around. Whatever I put in there’s going to wear out the same.” Hahn didn’t like the IT guy. “Can he learn to compensate?”</blockquote>