Read the Newest Hugo Winning Stories

When I read a collection of stories, I start at the table of contents, note the page-count of each story, and start with the shortest, working my way up.

I don't know how many people do that. But here is an opportunity to read the first two 2014 HUGO AWARD WINNERS, starting with the SHORT STORY winner, followed by the NOVELETTE winner, thanks to the posting of the stories by the authors and Tor.com.

BEST SHORT STORY 

“The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere” by John Chu (Tor.com, 02-2013)

In the near future water falls from the sky whenever someone lies (either a mist or a torrential flood depending on the intensity of the lie). This makes life difficult for Matt as he maneuvers the marriage question with his lover and how best to “come out” to his traditional Chinese parents. 

John Chu is a microprocessor architect by day, a writer by night. His fiction has appeared or is forthcoming at Boston Review, Bloody Fabulous, Asimov’s Science Fiction, Apex Magazine and Tor.com. Most of John Chu’s fiction is available on the internet. See his bibliography for details. You can learn more about John at his website.

John Chu and Tor.com have made “The Water That Falls on You from Nowhere” available to read free online HERE.

It is also presently available without DRM in Kindle format at Amazon for 99 cents.

BEST NOVELETTE 

“The Lady Astronaut of Mars” by Mary Robinette Kowal (maryrobinettekowal.com / Tor.com, 09-2013)

Thirty years ago, Elma York led the expedition that paved the way to life on Mars. For years she’s been longing to go back up there, to once more explore the stars. But there are few opportunities for an aging astronaut, even the famous Lady Astronaut of Mars. When her chance finally comes, it may be too late. Elma must decide whether to stay with her sickening husband in what will surely be the final years of his life, or to have her final adventure and plunge deeper into the well of space. 

Mary Robinette Kowal is a novelist and professional puppeteer. Her debut novel Shades of Milk and Honey (Tor 2010) was nominated for the 2010 Nebula Award for Best Novel. In 2008 she won the Campbell Award for Best New Writer, while three of her short fiction works have been nominated for the Hugo Award: “Evil Robot Monkey” in 2009 and “For Want of a Nail” in 2011, which won the Hugo for short story that year. Her stories have appeared in Strange Horizons, Asimov’s, and several Year’s Best anthologies, as well as in her collection Scenting the Dark and Other Stories from Subterranean Press.Kowal is also an award-winning puppeteer. With over twenty years of experience, she has performed for LazyTown (CBS), the Center for Puppetry Arts, Jim Henson Pictures and founded Other Hand Productions. You can learn more about Mary at her website.

Mary Robinette Kowal and Tor.com have made “The Lady Astronaut of Mars” available to read free onlone HERE.

It is also presently available without DRM in Kindle format at Amazon for 99 cents.

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Coming Soon: "Murphy's Traverse"

by J. C. Conway

My new short science fiction story, “Murphy’s Traverse,” has been accepted for publication  in the speculative fiction magazine, The Colored Lens, this month. The Colored Lens is edited by Dawn Lloyd and Daniel Scott and published by Light Spring LLC.

“Murphy’s Traverse” is the tale of a colony starship engineer named Murphy, and the events between here and his final, unexpected destination that prove the law that bears his name.

The Colored Lens describes the goal of speculative fiction as examining the real world “through the lens of the imaginary. By considering what could be, we gain a better understanding of what is.”

The Colored Lens strives to do exactly that. By publishing four to five short stories and serialized novellas a quarter in genres ranging from fantasy, to science fiction, to slipstream or magical realism, it hopes to help its readers see the world just a bit differently than before they came to its website or downloaded its magazine.

It also publishes non-fiction articles meant to broaden our perspectives and perceptions of the world around us and author interviews of writers whose books its editors and staff have particularly enjoyed and would like to bring to their readers’ attention. 

Hugo Eligible Short Stories

2012 Worldcon Chairs Photo Shoot (Photo credit: KevinStandlee)

It is Hugo Award nomination time again–this time for the best work in Science Fiction and Fantasy for the year 2013. The Hugo Awards are presented by the World Science Fiction Society, which is comprised of writers and fans and also hosts the World Science Fiction Convention every year. To be a member of the World Science Fiction Society, a person need only purchase membership in the World Science Fiction Convention for a given year. This year’s convention will be Loncon 3 in London, England. There are different levels of membership, some cheaper and which do not involve physical presence at the convention. I, for example, have been a Supporting Member for both of the past two, which grants full Hugo Award voting rights.
WSFS members are permitted to nominate more than one piece per category. I encourage you to nominate as many 2013 short stories as you believe deserve the honor. Last year there was a shortage of short stories nominated, and so there were fewer from which to select for the final ballots.
Two of my short stories in 2013 worth considering are "Worlds Less Traveled" and "Life, Death and Overlapping Bosonic Singularities." The former was published July 12, 2013 by Perihelion Science Fiction (and is now readable at my site), and the latter was published April 7, 2013 by The Lorelei Signal, and then later in 2013 in Mystic Signals.
Regardless of whether you nominate either, please consider reviewing the 2013 short stories available and participating in the process.

Related articles

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Excerpt: Exile's End (a work in progress)

Brik’ken Pullid Ruanna of Ostracus Prime, often tired of overseeing his forest domain. Perched near the peak of Mount Shadow, his attention again drifted from the mundane facts of the World to loftier concerns. He gazed at the stars—distant imitations of the Sun separated by a vast desert of air so thin his great wings could not propel him. There were mysteries beyond that impenetrable void—mysteries stolen from the World by an ancient and almost forgotten conflict.

These thoughts raced through his mind in fractions of a second. There were other esoteric concerns, equally fascinating and considerably more complex, that also commanded his attention. It was such lofty daydreaming that led the Council to assign him here, overseeing this peaceful land that needed little intervention. There were no rock trolls or desert hags here.

But this night his keen eyes found something in the sky that did not belong. It was small—barely two knuckles in diameter. It was brushing the thinnest layers of high air leagues above the tallest spire.

He had heard of objects falling from the sky—another ancient tale resembling myth more closely than it resembled historical fact. But if he believed the Keepers, no object of import had been able to reach the World since the capture of Tora, the World's third moon.

But if that was so, then what was this?

He narrowed his focus and searched for detail. The things fall did not feel right. It was not dropping like a free weight. And as it descended into thicker air, it drifted against the wind. This was not an experience he could keep to himself. It would probably annoy her, but he poked Pril with a mental nudge. She was the only one he trusted with a clear line of sight to the object.

Pril parried the nudge gruffly. What?

Brik shared his vision with her. The object was still several kilometers away, but falling. Don't you think that's odd?

Stop making things up, she said.

Look for yourself, he urged.

She resisted, but finally he felt her relent. Her eyes joined his and focused on the object. The vision was now clearer. There were angular details. There was a mix of materials—it had a taste of alchemy to it unlike anything Brik or Pril had experienced in their centuries of adult life.

We have to tell the Council.

Brik recoiled. I'm not telling the Council anything—especially not something as strange as this.

Then Zara.

Brik shuttered. Even worse.

It could be dangerous.

No. Look at its size.

Then, as they watched, it broke apart. The two broadened their focus to understand the scope of the event. Relatively equally sized and composed pieces left in different directions. One selected a direction toward Brik's domain.

Their attention then shifted in unison to the approaching piece of the strange thing.

Is it alive? asked Pril.

Of course not. But I'm going to see what it is.

No, said Pril. I'm going to tell Zara and the Council.

Brik didn't argue. Pril was right. This couldn't be kept from them. But it would take them time to choose a course of action. In that time, Brik would hopefully have been able to satisfy his curiosity. But he had to act quickly if he did not want to be excluded from the event altogether. Good idea, he said. Pril's attention vanished from his mind. He stretched, surging strength and mobility through his limbs and wings and lifted from his spot to intercept the strange intruding thing.

Copyright (c) 2013 John Conway

NaNoWriMo 2012 -- Short Excerpt

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is a writing-community project for as many as possible (around 300,000 this year) to complete a novel of 50,000 words or more in the span of 30 days. November is the chosen month. Many NaNoWriMo participants go on to publish their works. The end product of the November writing blitz is, in my experience, generally a rough first draft, which is one heck of a lot better than no rough draft at all. 

This year, my NaNoWriMo novel is a science fiction romance that takes place in the very far future with some extraordinary technological advances, but with human nature being pretty much just the same as it has always been.

Here is the short Prologue. Remember: rough draft. Revisions to the entire piece will take place in the months to come. But whether the following remains in the final draft or not, I like the setup.

"Dirk, I'm getting a spike here on the quantum core field pressure."
Cheryl positioned herself closer to the display. She placed a hand on the control pad.
She loved this job--and these brief, infrequent moments were why. Sure, monitoring the quantum drive looked boring and mindless. But it wasn't. Not when something happened. This was when years of training and study always paid off. Other than soft beeps and the low metallic thrum of the spinning space ship, the small control chamber was quiet, and Dirk's station was just 3 meters behind hers. She leaned forward and tried to get a feel for the anomaly.
"I've got nothing here," said Dirk. "In fact, it's a little cold."
That's odd. Cheryl adjusted the display, changing scale. Usually, an increase in one accompanies an increase in the other. It could be a momentary fluctuation. But this was no short-term quirk. The field pressure lurched up, dropped down slightly, and lurched up again. That should not happen unless . . .
She gasped. Her muscles tightened in a quick spasm.
"Check the wave frequencies!" she shouted, and shoved her chair back, rolling to the power grid display. There was a surge 20 seconds ago. Crap!
Cheryl's chest went cold. The protocol was clear. 'Francis,' she thought. A vision of her son—her unhappy little ten-year-old who never wanted to board the Minuend. The boy whose future she believed she was improving by taking him away from Earth to a new planet with new rules. The boy who now, along with 12,000 other residents of this colony ship, would never see the new world, and would be damned lucky to survive at all. The protocol was in place to protect them—to protect him.
Cheryl lifted a red panel and reached for a lever with yellow and black diagonal stripes. "Eject the Core, Dirk!"
"What?"
"Now!" She pulled the lever. Emergency sirens blared, red lights flashed, and the ship commenced emergency protocol Alpha—sealing and shielding the habitat.
Dirk did not eject the core. "What the hell are you talking about?" he screamed. "If we do that—"
At that moment, the instruments all stopped. They were engulfed in darkness and no time remained to act. In the hundredth of a second between the EMP destroying all circuitry, and the shock wave of the quantum-core collapse, Cheryl could only flash a prayer—that her son somehow survive, that the colonists eke a living from the ship's finite resources, that eventually, but soon enough, Earth advance enough to rescue the Minuend survivors who were now irretrievably adrift in interstellar space.

(c) 2012, J. C. Conway

"Procyon Descent": a Grim Future Tale of Hope

The idea that colonists from Earth will traverse the gulf between stars in generation ships to finally claim a new world is not new. But the backdrop is still rich with possibilities. Hardship will abound. "Procyon Descent" makes us wonder whether we today could fairly judge the actions of those that ultimately endure the traverse. Some find the story shocking, depressing or grim. I don't see it that way, but those things are there in a "Lord of the Flies" sort-of way. But I also see, at its core, sacrifice, determination and a ray of hope. Farther Stars Than These, edited by E.S. Wynn, agreed to publish the story story, and it has been well received. Of course, you can decide for yourself if the short tale is worth telling. It begins like this:

The day comes too soon. I work up the length of the crop terrace. My waist-high row is lined with scrawny beets sucking what they can from the muck of the nutrient stream. Across is a row of an old Earth grain called barley, followed by eight rows of sheet fungus and more rows of stuff we call food, lining the curved floor that turns up and out of sight behind the matching curved ceiling. It wraps around back to here, everything pressed to the floor by the spin of the ship that's been groaning under the strain for over 800 years. Or so it's told.
The lights wink.
"He's early," I complain.
Megan, two rows over, slows her gray-water flow to a trickle. "Just seems."
I gawk a moment, seeking her eye, just to confirm someone shares this feeling of being rushed. I see it's so. But it doesn't help.

You can see the rest of the story at Farther Stars Than These. For a list of all my stories online check here.

Excerpt and Link: "Exit Strategy"

"Exit Strategy" was my first story published this year. It's a flash SF story with amusing dark humor, published by 365 Tomorrows in February 2012. The quick tale begins as follows:

Grant pushed through the crowd, ignoring the direction indicator. He longed for elbow room and privacy, luxuries of a forgotten past. But rumor had it there were still places–distant, underpopulated islands. He only dreamed of reaching their shores … until today.
He shoved and nudged through the ebbing crush until he found Cali at 5th and Main–brown hair, golden eyes–now she would finally take him seriously.
“You again?”
“We need to talk.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Alone,” he whispered.
She laughed and gestured to the throngs around them.
Grant scanned the nearby faces. No one paid attention. It would have to do. “I have a way out of here!”
“Of where?”
“The crowd.”
“Oh, please …”

From the 365 Tomorrows web site:

365 tomorrows is a collaborative project designed to present readers with a new piece of short science and speculative ‘flash’ fiction each day. Launched August 1st 2005 with the lofty goal of providing a new story every day for a year, we’ve been on the wire ever since.
In addition to reading the stories, you can engage in discussion about them and other future looking topics in the forums.

For a complete list of all my available published stories, click here.

Excerpt from "Early Retirement"

"Early Retirement" was published by Static Movement in April 2012. It's a story about a big problem--really big.

I met Philip Dawson at Buster's Tavern--a dive asteroid bar in a Trojan orbit. We had nothing in common. He was huge, gregarious, and didn't know the world was about to end--nothing in common at all.
The place had a quarter-G spin--enough to serve open-glass drinks--and Philip moved with surprising grace, talking to everyone and anyone.
"The tougher the problem, the simpler the solution," he said to a local asteroid miner...

Static Movement is an ezine and imprint for print books. On staff at this time there are 12 editors and one illustrator. Static Movement has 25 published books, 27 anthologies taking submissions, and 5 years of ezine publication.

To see all my available publications, click here. 

Excerpt from "Separation Anxiety" at NewMyths.com

This is a short excerpt from my science-fiction short story, "Separation Anxiety," published last month by NewMyths.com, edited by Scott T. Barnes. It is a tale of judicial concern in a very near quantum future.

...Judge Bell drew a breath. "It is hereby ordered, adjudged and decreed that you, Claude Ram Harper and Clarissa Marie Harper, hereby are and forever shall be irrevocably and permanently separated."
The Clerk touched the panel. The mass of coiled machinery that replaced most of the traditional ceiling, roared to life. Intricate mechanisms shifted. Coolant manifolds hissed. The Event Chamber thrummed and the Quantum Amplifier glowed. The machine bathed the Harpers in bright magenta.
The Harpers glared at each other, less than a half meter apart, as an incorporeal cone surrounded them.
Judge Bell leaned forward. He would see their true colors in a moment. But maybe this time he could remain impartial. If he did not pick, wouldn't that break his streak?
The pitch increased...

In its first four years, NewMyths.com has published over 100 new and confirmed writers, poets, academics and artists (the ‘creators’) who share a love of speculative fiction. Going forward, NewMyths’ goal is to build bridges between the creators and the readers to forge the future of speculative fiction together. The full story can be found at https://sites.google.com/a/newmyths.com/nmwebsite/fiction/separation-anxiety.

To see all of my available published stories, click here.

Excerpt from "Gentle Push" at Mindflights

This is an excerpt from "Gentle Push," my science fiction story published in the September release of Mindflights:

I encountered the leading edge of retreating human vessels 20 light hours from Delta Pavonis—a steady column bound for Earth, where they believed we could protect them. My mission would determine if that faith was justified, and if so, for how long. 

As I skirted the system's rocky halo, I spotted the small starship drifting quietly in the mid-outer dust cloud—a tug with strong field generators fore and aft. It was not preparing to flee. I looked closer. Its artificial environment was intact. Its engines were functional. It had a single human occupant, alive and well as far as I could tell. 

I hailed it. “Do you require assistance?” 

It responded abruptly: “Leave me alone.”

Mindflights, is a magazine of fantasy and science fiction that is the result of the merger of two award-winning magazines: Dragons, Knights, & Angels and The Sword Review. It strives to provide quality speculative fiction and poetry that respects traditional values.

For all of my available published stories, click here.

Another Wrong World Excerpt

This is the beginning of my flash fiction story, "Another Wrong World," published at Indigo Rising Magazine, April 8, 2012.

His shock and interstellar meandering now behind him, Maxwell nudged through the patrons of the End-Of-The-Line Club, forcing his way to the center bar. It was the seediest tavern he could find--a backwater haven for non-human thieves and drug addicts, a hell-hole carved from the belly of an insignificant asteroid in a rubble-strewn orbit of Arcturus. No respectable sentient would set foot here. Finally Maxwell could lose himself in self pity and loathing. 

     "Hey!" he shouted and motioned to the tentacled bartender. "A stiff Rigelian Rye." 

     He slid onto the stool. 

     How could he have been so stupid? With all his talent and after all his training ... hewas the best pilot in the human fleet. The shining hope! And he'd been proud--cocky really. "Deliver it?" he'd quipped. "I'll shove it down their throat and poke 'em in the eye as they swallow!" 

     Yeah, right.

The End-of-the-Line Club; Parking in Rear

Founded in June 2010, Indigo Rising Magazine, edited by Tannen Dell, is a free online fiction magazine focused on the surreal, experimental or otherwise interesting--"a haven to the diverse." Its main page is: http://www.indigorisingmagazine.com/

To see all of my available published stories, click here.

Excerpt: The Bender Beamer

Following is the beginning of my short science fiction story, "The Bender Beamer," published by Larks Fiction Magazine, May 13, 2012:

The world ends twice a day; three times on Sunday.

Junior Bender wanted to believe it. It was the closest thing to advice his father had ever provided. But all it meant was nothing is carved in stone—fresh starts happen every day.

He could use a new start now.

Junior sat on his hands to avoid fidgeting behind his broad mahogany desk. His CEO nameplate evidenced his powerful position in the world's fastest rising business. But he did not call the shots. Junior didn't even earn his position, he inherited it. 

He cleared his throat. "The government has offered to buy."

Junior's CFO, and his father's former right-hand man, Henry Orwill, belted a cynical chuckle. "Too bad for them."

Junior's gut tightened. Junior longed to deal man-to-man with Orwill, but he still felt like a child to "Uncle Hank."

"They're offering a lot," said Junior, seeking a deeper discussion.

"If we sell now, it wouldn't be to our advantage."

Junior pressed. "They won't give up. We're a monopoly. We're crushing the world's transportation industry. If we don't sell, I'm afraid they'll just take it."

"Listen," said Orwill, standing, "if we sell now, we'll be out of the picture for good. We don't want that."

"But—"

"Are you going to sign those papers?" he asked as he left, pointing to today's stack.

Junior nodded, sighing.

Quiet fell. What was wrong with the government offer? What better result did Orwill have in mind?...

Larks Fiction Magazine, edited by Daniel Pool, is a free online literary magazine for up-and-coming writers. It publishes fiction, poetry and non-fiction of all shapes and sizes, with a leaning toward magical realism, science fiction, fantasy and quirky and experimental work. It also publishes music videos, short films, art and dramas. You can learn more about it at: http://larksfictionmagazine.blogspot.com/.

A Flash of Insight, Battlespace Excerpt

An excerpt from my story, A Flash of Insight, in the Battlespace Anthology:

“This is incredible, sir,” said Max, on his right wing. “Not a single scout or decoy in sight. If they’re out here, they’re just sitting ducks.”

Jason laughed, and then resumed a more serious command posture. “Focus now. I want no rough edges. When you see it—engage.”

He should have known. They’re overconfident, he thought. But all he did was make a mental note to discuss with them—later—the risks of overconfidence.

This mission would be an easy hit. They would be in and out. No problem.

He flipped the safety guard from the firing mechanism, settled his gaze on the sensor screen, and waited—his thumb hovering steadily over the familiar red button.

That moment was the end of the glory days. Between the appearance of a blip on his sensor screen and the time his practiced thumb could drop—and less than halfway through his unnecessary, but traditional command of “Fire!“—his vessel, and every other vessel in his wing, was torn asunder by precise and entirely unexpected beams of plasma that struck faster than the reaction time of the best human fighters in the fleet.

Jason, but only Jason, survived that failure. He floated for days alone in his lifesuit. During that time, he stared at the stars and despaired. He felt grief and remorse. He fought anger and futility. But most of all, as his oxygen supply dwindled in the void, he faced the inescapable knowledge that he had suddenly become utterly and irretrievably obsolete, and one thought echoed through his groggy mind. I’m going to need a new job.

About Battlespace

Battlespace is a collection of science fiction short stories and flash fiction pieces from authors around the globe. Volume 1 has a focus on the military, past, present and future. Conceived and produced by Jason Tudor, Keith Houin and Michael J. Wistock, Battlespace serves to raise money for wounded soldiers via the Warrior Cry Music Project. The book went on sale in July 2012 and has raised better than $1,000 for the Project. It is available on Amazon and at other sites and stores. For more, visit the web site, http://battlespace.myscifishow.com.

About Warrior Cry Music Project

Warrior Cry is a group of volunteers who work with wounded veterans across the country, providing musical instruments and instruction, working closely with therapists to create a positive educational and therapeutic program. Music is a great form of physical and mental therapy. Warrior Cry gives wounded soldiers something positive to work toward and helps to get their minds off of their injuries. Music also helps get our wounded soldiers out of their shell and regain an interest in socializing with others. Warrior Cry works with other groups and non-profits to help better the lives of veterans that were wounded in battle. The foundation’s website is www.warriorcry.org

About the Science Fiction Show

The Science Fiction Show (“SFS”) is an entertaining, professionally produced hour of audio entertainment about a broad spectrum of things in pop culture, science fiction, science, and so much more. SFS reaches audiences with great content and sharp wit. With better than 11,000 downloads, 50+ hours of programming, and 1,000 followers since May 2011, SFS is a fast-rising vehicle that appeals to broad demographics, reaching listeners through iTunes. Past interview subjects include comic book artists Steve Rude, Chris Trevis and Christian Waggoner; writers Mike Baron, Adam Slade and Eric Trautmann; author Paul Sammon; and Hollywood special effects artist Shannon John Shea. The show’s website is www.myscifishow.com.

Excerpt from "Nickel Stream"

This is an excerpt from a work in progress:

“It’s been nice working with you, Gina,” said Orson, powering down the work stations for the last time.
“Same, Orson. You’ve been great. Really. Good luck on your new assignment.” The last plunger had finally been shut down, and the company was abandoning the solar mining field.

Gina looked around. The corridors were empty and dimly lit. The lines visible through the portal were dormant. There were no glowing shafts from the surface of the sun, no thrumming vortices, no jets of leaking plasma—just a churning, desolate inferno.

She drew a deep breath. It had been a tumultuous two months. The company investors learned little after Vern Holloway’s visit. But two weeks later, the Space Mining Guild raided the Proxima Receiving Station, confiscating terabytes of production data. Within a week, Gina was compelled to host the Guild Marshall for an inspection of their field records. The company protested, but was unable to dampen the Guild’s resolve, or stop its progress. Another week later, the company announced its intention to close the field permanently, and Gina’s job focus changed from production to demolition.

Copyright (c) 2009 J. C. Conway