The signs along the road to the Gates of Hell told the story of the crater. It was a good story, all about some Soviet screwups who thought they could fix a problem by lighting it on fire. Silly Soviets, always doing stuff like that. The signs had been re-written just last year, after Taco… Continue reading Taco Hell
Author: emma
Breakup, breakdown, breakfast*
You sit with your face buried between your knees, snuffling your nose and wishing the carpet wasn’t so fluffy and comfortable. Now is a time for hard floors. Your knees are wet with tears. Your sleeve is wet with snot. Little bits of skeleton are scattered across the carpet, small vertebrae that have skipped across… Continue reading Breakup, breakdown, breakfast*
PhD research: A short summary
My PhD research was done at the Centre for Agroecology and Water Resilience, at Coventry University. The full thesis can be found here. At Coventry, when you sit your viva voce, the final examination for doctoral researchers, you are allowed (encouraged, even) to do a presentation as part of the process. It gives everyone a… Continue reading PhD research: A short summary
Unwon awards
This page details the awards I have not won. It could be that I’ll be nominated for some of these some day, but chances are slim to pretty much exactly nothing. Feel free to change that, though. Nom away! Nobel Prize for Literature or Peace Pulitzer Prize for Fiction Booker Prize Pushcart Award nomination Tony… Continue reading Unwon awards
2023 awards eligible stories
I had a whole bunch of short stories published this year, some of which are eligible for awards. If you’re out there nominating stories for horror, sci-fi, or other awards (Hugo, Nebula, Stoker, Astounding, etc.), I’d love your support. Here are the ones that you could nominate: Therapy: space (2023). The Hellebore, Issue 11. Because… Continue reading 2023 awards eligible stories
The tale of the fourth or fifth wife of Mssr. Bleue
It wasn’t that I didn’t know about the crypt under the house when I married him. Everyone knew about the crypt, and the keys he always carried, especially the large silver key that he wouldn’t let anyone touch but made sure everyone saw. It wasn’t that I didn’t know. And it wasn’t that I didn’t care. It’s just that I… Continue reading The tale of the fourth or fifth wife of Mssr. Bleue
Carnage
They should’ve believed me, those zoo people. Now it’s a lot of clean-up. I warned the zookeepers, but they said the penguins needed their daily walk. They said it was good for them, lowered their stress levels. I said I get it, I go on walks too. Good for thinking, for plotting. I told them I’d seen… Continue reading Carnage
If you are reading this…
I might be dead. Maybe it was from illness. Maybe it was an accident. It could have been by my own hand. Anything is possible. If you’re reading this, please take care of my plants. Water them, but not too much. Sing to them sometimes. If you’re reading this, tell my sister I love her. Tell my son I’m proud of him. Tell… Continue reading If you are reading this…
On the day I was ready
A gust of wind buffets me, and I push my hair out of my eyes. The view up here is glorious, a vast and dramatic sky. Endless spires. Industrious people below. I spread my arms wide. I inhale, draw in cold air. I exhale, expel my failures. My mobile chimes, shakes me from the moment. It’s not a good time, but when is? I digit out of my pocket. One new email.… Continue reading On the day I was ready
Overqualified
“I can write whatever you want, in whatever style you want. I’m really good.” I know I sound desperate. “There’s a list of publications on my CV.” I hold out the papers, crisp from the folder I’ve been trying not to squeeze, outlining my four degrees and 10 years’ experience. He nods and grins, his neon orange glasses and overly-white teeth reflecting the too-bright lights. “You’re like AI.… Continue reading Overqualified