Our latest story
Leos knew it was the wind, tugging rivulets of dust in its wake like whipping snakes, but even so. The land here was bad, hostile. They should never have come.
“Aren’t you glad we came, Leos? Glad!” Agris plodded up the slope behind him, two heavy sacks atop his broad shoulders and a grin splayed across his battered face. “What a land… landscape.” The big man’s smile widened with the achievement of getting the word out, despite his impressive array of verbal tics. Artemis had painstakingly taught it to him a few days before.
“Huh.” Leos hauled his own sack onto his back and looked suspiciously at the sand. “I don’t think I’ve ever been glad of anything, ever.” He peered over his shoulder at the old man labouring up the hillside behind him. Leos lowered his voice. “Especially not of the day we met that old prick.”
Agris grunted and shook his head, but strode on past Leos and through the scrub. He hardly seemed to be breaking a sweat. Leos envied him. Half of his own skin seemed chafed raw from rubbing against wet cloth.
“Young Leos!” Artemis was not far behind now, gripping his heartwood staff tight but showing no sign of fatigue. Leos hated being called ‘young’. He was at least twenty-three, as far as he knew. He turned and watched the crazy old coot as he approached, stopping every few strides to examine a bush, or listen for animal calls.
As he drew level, Artemis held out something wrapped in pale cloth. “Soon you will see why we left the horses behind at the well, and why I brought these.” He pressed the object into Leos’s palm. “You’d better tell our large friend there that he should halt before the ridge. The Sea lies just beyond.”
Beneath the Sea of Glass – Rob Francis
Making the List – David Hammond
Radical Abundance – Angie Lathrop
What the Darkness Is – Simon Kewin
Q: How do you generate story ideas, and how soon do you act on them?
A: I nerdishly carry a notebook at all times, and whenever I come across something really interesting in reading or in life (a phrase, a concept, a quote, almost anything) I write it down in my current notebook. I also use the notebook for to-do lists and brainstorming and practically everything I need to refer to or keep in mind, for my professional, personal, and writing lives. I don’t separate the notebooks into sections, so as I’m perusing the pages for a phone number, I’ll come across fragments of ideas that could turn into stories, so I’m constantly feeding those bits back into my mind to incubate. It might be months or even years after I record an idea in my notebook that I write a story about it.