Recent Adventures in Science, Fiction, & Fantasy

It’s been an eventful month in storytelling, with a TEDxRainier salon, comic con, inaugural brand expo, advance screening, and two awards ceremonies.  That is all this shoe-worn author could attend, and it’s all been worthwhile.


The Fantasy exhibit at the EMP covers the symbolic lexicon of a genre, and examines the role that fantasy stories play in our lives and hearts.


(Above: spray artist outside the EMP.  Named credit incoming.)

The TEDxRainier salon held at the EMP is titled Functions of Fantasy.

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Authors Cat Rambo and Greg Bear; Greg Bear (member of San Diego Comic Con’s founding party) with Bones of Starlight author Eva L. Elasigue.  Pieces of the discussion after the salon included the future of fantasy and independent publishing paradigms.

I later met with Victor of the Destination: Universe recording studio, who loaned me a copy of Greg Bear’s Blood Music.

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I made it to the first Image Comics Expo at Seattle Showbox, where I attended an advance viewing of the new tv show OUTCAST, to be aired on Cinemax June 3.  By the creator of the Walking Dead.  Further review incoming on


At the Spring Formal, the Valkyries (women in the comic book industry) were honored onstage for their work to create an inclusive community.


Below:  Seahawks Richard Sherman & Bobby Wagner playing Counter Strike: Black Ops 3 at Emerald City Comic Con.  I high-fived Richard Sherman on his way out and said nothing more intelligent than, “Right on.”



With Joni Labaqui of Author Services, Inc. at the 32nd Writers & Illustrators of the Future Awards, with Bones of Starlight: Fire On All Sides, an excerpt of which won a Finalist honor in the 31st year.


Congratulating Lidia Yuknavitch, who won Ken Kesey Award for Fiction Novel at the 2016 Oregon Book Awards for her book, The Small Backs of Children.


(Rough Release 9)

[[ From The Enfolding Abyss: Prologue ]]

The first time she visited the Great Library, it was with her grandmother.  Soleil was old enough to navigate the directories at will, and Celeste watched with a benign smile.  She was allowed to create a tableful of stacks according to childish whim, though not all for children – pretty, neat sounding, nice seeming, interesting, linked.  She discovered at least five books which were listed, but not available.

There’s one she can recall, of which she has still not seen the inside.  She wondered about it.  Its title included the word, Movements.  She’d been sure it was beyond her reading level at the time, but that was how she challenged herself – picking up something that lay outside her realm of understanding.  It meant she might gain something, that she would grow up a little.  With certainty, that was something she wanted to do.

The Vedani didn’t have books.  They had cords, trunks, and netbranches bearing a never-ceasing flow of words that one arranged oneself, with focus.  She missed the feel of a tome, but perhaps that meant no book was ever closed, or missing.

(Rough Release 8)

[[ From The Enfolding Abyss, Prologue ]]

Soleil ran the wall track, for special occasions.  They happened often enough that it wasn’t strange, but each time was memorable.

First she had to go around opening all the doors to it.  The record lodged itself in her muscles, in the limb angles and variances.  The track was worn, and never repaired in full; one barely known edge of the Imperial Court.  It wasn’t a secret.  People waved at her and she waved back.  Every part of it was made for feet to walk on, but she didn’t think any other feet bothered to traverse its entirety.

A sheer edge, in some places, breathtaking and life-giving.  She powered up, letting her breath breathe her, bringing her body to move.

(Rough Release 7)

[[ From The Enfolding Abyss, Prologue ]]

She could bundle, she could trunk, but did she know how to connect?  Somehow Soleil could tell that she was communicating with youth.

Soleil was carefully given, by request as though she were stupid, instructions on how to complete a hand-to-hand connection.

The Vedani started simple as it gets.  “Make your hand a fist, back facing up, knuckles pointing forward.  When I say go, move it forward slowly and evenly.  As though it’s going to hit something.  Don’t be too surprised.”  But she was utterly surprised when it did.  She instantly looked at her hand.  “Did you feel me?  You did it.  Look.”

The trunk she’d been working on was now made of double the cords, as though they’d all been formed together.  Hers were yellow, theirs were blue, and things were looking green.  “Yeah.”  After that, Soleil practiced with them in earnest.

“Angle your chop hand at minus thirty-five and slash it back at your side like you’re cleaning your sword.”

“Make your fist explode after it connects and keep your fingers straight as you draw your hand back toward you.  But keep them pointing forward.”

“Put the fingertips of one hand together in a little point.  See the bird head?  Okay, peck.  But pointier, and harder.”

“Knock on the door three times with your rapping knuckles.”

“Point your index finger in front of you, and slowly poke.”

Soleil learned the names for the motions, making her faster through shorthand.  The first time she correctly hit a series of eleven in a row, she felt great about the results.  “Did someone order more fries?”

“Yes we did, and you delivered.”

“Piping hot.”

“Krinkle Kut.”