*I also posted this on my tumblr blog - it was just too good a book to just mention there

I just finished ENDER’S GAME, by Orson Scott Card, and I was honestly
blown away. What a great read! While it is true I have been reading
more mundane, down-to-Earth literature of late [MAINSTREET, KIM, THE
RAINBOW], I found this novel to be so well written and well-paced - not
to mention downright fun to read - I found myself halfway through it
after the first day and finished with it in another day and a half.

The pacing reminds me of many of John Grisham novels, where some invisible
rope seems to pull the reader through the book. Part of that is the
cool-factor. The kind of cool found only in good science fiction - born
out of an interesting premise, laced with new ideas along the way, and
topped off with something of a twist at the end. This is the kind of
book that makes one sad to be through with - my only consolation is
that I also bought the sequel to ENDER’S GAME, SPEAKER FOR THE DEAD.
[From what I’ve read, this one is good too, but entirely different]

I’m not going to go into what this book is about - there are many themes
and interesting aspects to it, but suffice it to say that this is a
MUST for any sci-fi fan and a strong recommendation for everyone else
(but be warned, this might get a person hooked on sci-fi).

My score: 5 out of 5

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Twitter is a free social networking and micro-blogging service. It gives the author a mere 140 characters to work with for each post. (find my personal posts at twitter.com/wessf)

Below you will find that Steve Murphy and Micah Foreman and I have taken on this same 140 character restriction for ourselves, submitting several micro-stories apiece.

Feel free to post a comment or twitter your own stories in the comments. Enjoy. Read more »

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Posted a new episode of Robot Graveyard, called “Storage-Cube.” Not much happens in this episode, but it’s a necessary scene, nonetheless, for the somewhat sketchy storyline to come.

Robot Graveyard is a robot/rocketship episodic fiction story written by myself with the help of a few friends and family. New episodes will probably be appearing on a strictly haphazard release cycle known only to the little creativity-fairy that lives in my keyboard (and he or she is not talkin’) - please leave a comment here or on the Robot Graveyard blog. Thanks!

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This is a short short story that I finished last night. Mostly it is an exercise in narrative voice, images and symbolism.

Weakness of Bones

Dan sat in his well built home with so many strangers grouped like clouds. Like clouds they swept through the many rooms and dropped their multiplying drips of “sorry for your loss” and “in a better place” upon his condolence drenched family. It was an emotional flood not unlike any other. Read more »

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Sometimes the doldrums come skulking around, like some old bone-tired hungry hound dog begging for handouts but too pitiful even to look you in the eye. Hardly looking at anything, really. All squinting and skulkified and pitiful. Thinking, “I’m just gonna creep up beside you and wait a spell. Don’t make any sudden movements, now. I ain’t gonna bite you - sure enough - ain’t gonna look at you, much less bite you. If’n you wanna toss me a scrap - that’d be fine. Just fine. If’n not, well. Reckon I’m just gonna hang around a while to make sure you ain’t gonna change your mind anytime soon. No sir, ain’t gonna look at you, much less bite you.”

Sometimes there is nothing to do but wait it out for a while. Sometimes that works. Sometimes that’s all it is; just a matter of time. Then there are other times when that old hound dog gets it in his mind that here is just as good as over there, and he lowers his old bones to the cold dusty ground. Lays there looking up at you (only not really looking at you, just squinting up in your general direction). You didn’t even toss him so much as a scrap of old leather to gnaw on, to get his jaw a’workin’, to get him expecting another snack. Maybe next time a proper meal.

No, nothing worse than feeding him. He might just take up residency for good then. But you did not encourage the old dog - not this time - you did not fall for that old trick of the young and foolhardy. You ignored him, disregarded his soft whimperings without failing. Indeed, you were almost cruel to that old bag-o-bones.

But sometimes the doldrums linger. Sometimes that old dog has walked the same familiar dusty road for so many years that he gets too tired to pick himself up and move himself along. Sometimes he’s been beat down one too many times and he just wants to sit there, quiet in your shadow, content just to sit there, enjoying your lack of productivity and the silent, lackadaisical company of one such as yourself. Taking up your time, your talent, your best, and your worst. Everything you’ve built yourself up toward and ever hoped to be in this big world, he drags down (just by his presence there at your feet, he drags you down). And he’s polite about it, to be sure. Ever only polite, and careful, and quietly lingering. Wouldn’t bite you if he could.

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