Flash Fiction Friday: “Park Date” by S.C. Jensen

Late again! This is my July assignment for the 12 Short Stories competition. This month, the prompt was “Cats and Dogs” at 300 words exactly. I managed to tweak this one to 300 words on the nose, but I’m not sure if it meets the requirements for a flash fiction piece. Is there enough of a conflict? Enough of a resolution? What would you like to see me do differently? Let me know in the comments!

“Park Date” by S.C. Jensen
Word count: 300
Genre: Fiction

Amy peeled a leg off the metal park bench and crossed it over her knee. A film of sweat sprang up between her thighs to lubricate the transition. How disgustingly efficient, she thought.

“Why did I agree to this?”

The trees sighed above her with thick, humid breath. She pictured stamens spewing pollen and the eager ovaries waiting to receive it. Bursting and gaping, the lurid eroticism of trees. Her nose itched.

Amy inhaled deeply and wondered if all that sweat was making her stink. She watched the people strolling through the park or, some inhuman things, actually jogging. Blonde hair, no. Green shirt, no. Girlfriend, definitely no.

Oh.

Oh no.

Short brown hair, check. Black sleeveless shirt, check. Great, slobbering ball of fur? He hadn’t mentioned that. And yet, he was slowing his pace, glancing in her direction.

“Amy?”

She thought, I never should have come here.

“That’s me.” She stood, wanting nothing more than to give her thighs a little fresh air. “You must be Brian. Who’s this?”

The furball oozed affection. And drool. Amy took a step back.

“Oh, this is Duke,” the guy smiled. It was a nice enough smile. “Don’t you like dogs?”

“I’m more of a cat person.”

“Sorry,” Brian said. He seemed earnest. “He’s not mine. I just thought—”

“Great way to meet chicks, right?”

Brian’s dark skin flushed darker. “Something like that.”

“I’m allergic,” Amy said. “Trees, too.”

Brian said, “Well, this was a bust.”

“Sorry.” Amy turned. “This was a bad idea.”

“Wait!” Duke sat at Brian’s feet and scratched behind an ear. “Let’s try again. You choose, this time.”

Amy smiled in spite of herself. “Meet me at the library, five o’clock.”

Then she left the heat, and the trees, and the dog behind her and turned toward home.

 

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Book Review: Refuse by Jennifer Roush

Refuse by Jennifer Roush

I can honestly say that Jennifer Roush’s sci-fi novel Refuse is unlike anything I have ever read. I’m guessing this is going to be new to you, too. Now, don’t go running away screaming. This is not some experimental post-narrative fart sniffing BS. When I say new I mean…

 

I have never been inside a characters head quite like this before. And I like it.

 

Refuse is a serious book that doesn’t take itself too seriously. And you can hear Roush’s voice oozing out of every word of every sentence. This book has style. Narrative style. A very distinct narrative style that I can only compare to the likes of Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (both of whom Roush is nothing like, I just compare for the intensity of authorial voice).

 

It’s not going to be for everyone, I’ll say that right now.

 

Refuse is the story of Antoinette Foucault, a human resident on the asteroid Psyche (which is shared with two other alien species, the mysterious Grays and the powerful Amarians). Psyche is home to a Colony of the solar systems unwanted humans: emotional deviants who refuse to conform to Amarian rules. Antoinette is not a patient of the Colony, but she should be.

 

The band of misfits that propel this story are so bizarre it’s almost a thing of beauty. The inner workings of Antoinette’s mind as she works her way through the mysterious society of Psyche certainly are beautiful. Raw and course and sometimes ugly; but beautiful.

 

What I like best about Refuse beyond the sheer strangeness of the plot and characters, is Antoinette’s voice. The gritty, gross, sometimes absurd musings of a woman who is destined to destroy her home. She’s a deviant, surely. But in this world, so are we all. Sometimes Anty is so funny that we forget there is nothing funny about her situation, and that’s the beauty of this book.

 

I’m a big fan of SF that gets outside the box. Science fiction should be a world without boxes, but there’s a tradition at play that many writers struggle to break free from. Roush succeeds, and then some. She manages to play with ideas around species, individuality, gender, race, and sexuality so fluidly that you don’t realize much of what Antoinette is going through is a parallel to our own world. If you’re like me, you’ll be laughing too hard to realize that Refuse is a serious book.

 

And that’s why I love it.

FULL DISCLOSURE: Jennifer Roush is my friend and sometimes editor. My review is in no way coloured by this relationship. She’d probably beat me if I praised her for something that didn’t deserve praise. The fact is, I know a lot of very clever people, and I will be showcasing them (and others) here as often as I can. And I promise I will only review things I genuinely love, or genuinely hate, here. Because taste matters.

That said, if you have something you would like me to read and review (of yours or someone else’s) please let me know.

Flash Fiction: “Ocean Things”

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Flash Fiction Challenge
Prompt: Tide pools
Limit 500 words

“Ocean Things” by S.C. Jensen

Annemette followed the tide. The rocks and barnacles cut into her flesh like paring knives, peeling her from the bottom up. Her ankles were thick with water, as if they sucked in the sea, held it. Her body was a sponge. Full of holes. Full of water. Full of life. Annemette followed the tide.

For nearly a year, she had been stumbling barefoot across the craggy western shoreline of the island. A monthly pilgrimage. She sought a place that none but the truly desperate could find. She sought the Drowning Hole.

Home. I’m going home.

She chased the tide, relishing the cool damp of the rocky outcropping and the fire of salt in her wounds. The pain was good. It reminded her of where she had been and where she was going. It will be over soon.

The water moved so quickly now. Moonlit waves licked at her, taunting her, drawing her nearer. With each step she longed to feel the kiss of the sea against her heavy limbs, longed for the weightlessness of water.

But her toes, bruised and broken, crushed seafoam instead. Pink, frothy footprints followed her. She moved so slowly now. The lean, graceful body she had loved so much was gone. Disintegrated, in a matter of months. She was a bloated corpse, walking. Still, Annemette followed the tide.

“Oh.” A crack, like lightning, broke through her. The salty burning in her feet was obliterated by something much older. A primordial thing. She fell. It’s coming.

“Ooooooh—” She let the thing crawl through her body and out her throat in a great, ululating wail. Her fingernails cracked and bled and grasped at stone. She watched the rivulets of red running into the tiny tide pools; she watched the blood dissipate into clear, crisp ocean water. Almost there.

Dragging herself forward now, on hands and knees, Annemette followed the tide.

A yawning blackness stretched out before her. Seafoam and swash surrounded it, were consumed by it. The Drowning Hole. Mysterious eddies and currents, sucking and swirling, down, down, down. A place that mortals came to die.

Death is what draws them to this place, the ocean things. Things like Annemette. One year ago she had pulled herself, black and dripping, from this very hole. Her body had felt impossibly heavy. She clung to the rocky shoal, the tide pulling away from her. Abandoning her in this foreign place, in this foreign flesh.

Annemette dragged herself to the edge of the tide pool and peered into the depths.

“Sisters,” she said. “I’ve come home.” The primeval aching tore through her body again. This time she bore its weight in silence. Dark eyes stared up at her from the pool, pale green faces floating upwards. Long-fingered hands broke the surface first, grasping at her. Pulling, like the tide.

“You’ve come, sister.” Hair like kelp and shark-like flesh, they rose. “And you have brought us life.”

“I have brought you life.” Her swollen body heaved, and the creatures pulled her into the water. Down, down, down. Annemette followed the tide.

 

 

Calling all Reviewers!

Looking for a summer read?
Looking for a summer read?

I’m looking for some sci-fi and spec fic fans to review my new novel, The Timekeepers’ War. If you’re looking to add another book to your summer reading and think you’d enjoy a little post-apocalyptic adventure, please get in touch! I’m looking for honest, thoughtful reviews. No fluff! If you don’t like it, I’d rather read a constructive review on why than a fake positive review 😉 Thanks in advance for your interest!

Women of Sci-Fi: Gina Torres

Gina Torres on Science Fiction
Gina Torres on Science Fiction

I came across this quote by Gina Torres the other day and I thought it described perfectly why I love science fiction so much. Our day to day lives are ruled by social norms and conventions, even when we don’t subscribe to them personally; no one can escape being measured against cultural expectations, even if we define ourselves by our lack of conformity.

Not so in the world of science fiction and fantasy! Good SF pushes and redefines boundaries. I love a book that questions our ideas of normalcy. When reading science fiction I am disappointed when the characters/environment do not defy the confines of current “real life” social/economic/political landscapes. Science fiction becomes the perfect platform to discuss and challenge questions and ideas about gender, sexuality, race, class, spirituality, etc.

Not to say that I expect an author to challenge every convention out there all at once. But please challenge something!

But back to Torres… Can I just say that I love her? She was my inspiration for Mirielle in The Timkeepers’ War (Summer 2014); I harbour a secret fantasy that if any of my novels are ever made into a movie, some brilliant Director will cast Torres to play the feisty barmaid-cum-boxer. Mirielle will be playing a much more integral role in The Children of Bathora (Fall 2015, I hope), so stay tuned.

Any thoughts? What do you expect from a science fiction or fantasy novel? What would you like to see more of in SF&F?