A Twelfth of Carrabis (November 2024 Newsletter)

November marks the return of my Brother Orion and his dog’s slow march across the northern night skies. I go out late in the evenings and greet him, ask him to tell me tales of where he traveled and what he’s seen while away. Often he invites me to journey with him and we travel to places humans will not know of until after the sun grows cold.
It is a raw, rainy, autumn day as I pen this. I should write “…as I type this.” and the gray in my hair forbids it. My professional (ie, paid) writing career started with a typewriter, my non-professional with pencil and pen in spiral-bound notebooks (still have them). For a brief period I composed on a remote terminal over a 300baud modem via phone line to my university’s mainframe.
Young people scratch their heads and frown with confusion when I use such words: “Typewriter?” “Remote what?” “300baud?” “What’s a modem?” “What’s a mainframe?” “What’s a phone line?”
I also know my long time editor, Jen “The Editress” Day, will see the colon in the above and wince. I’ve yet to master the proper use of the dash (em and otherwise), the colon, and semi-colon. I understand their use and purpose, and Jen tells me she can tell when I’m crafting because I type so quickly punctuation goes out the window (swiftly accompanied by spelling). Fortunately, after ~20years, she knows the rhythms I invoke with language and punctuation and manages to make me look good.
I recommend her to any who need a top level editor. (PS any errors and tyops you find here are on me, not her)
“A Twelfth of Carrabis” is getting good feedback from readers. Thankee! It means a lot.
Last item before we get down to it; I’m thinking of redoing my website based on some conferences and classes I took this month. Any suggestions? What would you change if it was your website?

November-December 2024 Announcements
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My “Winter Winds” in The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here

I asked fellow The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so appeared over the past few weeks. The last two in this set are of yours truly.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

And now, my Winter Winds:

It occurred to me, as I sat watching, that the scene was not as it should be. The winds played oddly on the landscape, and even the patterns of the falling snow were different. However, it wasn’t until I turned off the floodlights, which are white, and turned on the ground lights, which are pink, that the entire scene was revealed to me.

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Gordon Cloud’s “The Legend Of Possum Flat” in The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here

I asked fellow The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

And now, Gordon Cloud’s The Legend Of Possum Flat:

A warm breeze was blowing across the Montana foothills as a 1937 De Soto carefully made its way along the curvy and somewhat bumpy road, kicking up a cloud of dust as it went. Traveling down a wooded hillside that bore a couple of rocky outcroppings, the car descended to a grove of trees and a small homestead in the shade of some large cottonwood trees.

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D H Parish’s “Inversion” in The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here

I asked fellow The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

And now, D H Parish’s Inversion:

After a long, slow, winding course through the mountains, the road finally straightened as they approached the small town.
“We’re almost there,” Alex reassured his grumpy children in the back. Mountain roads, even those designated as state highways, always took far longer to traverse in reality than on paper (or computer), and he had, as usual, misjudged the time. Although still afternoon, the town, sitting in a valley between two peaks, was bathed in fog, making it seem more like dusk. It also made it harder to navigate. Despite the fog he could see the small grocery store corresponding to the one shown on his phone map.

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Duncan Shepard’s “Landscaper!” in The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here

I asked fellow The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here anthology contributors to share some things about themselves prior to publication and those generous enough to do so will be appearing here for the next week or so.

Each entry gives a taste of their contribution, a little about them, how to contact them, how their story came about, and definitely a link to The Rabbit Hole VII: Not From Here (which you should purchase because it would make each and every one of us happy.
you do want to make us happy, don’t you?
i mean, considering what we wrote, you want us to know you’re a good person, right?).

And now, Duncan Shepard’s Landscaper!:

When I awoke, I was met by the three-headed doctor who took me to a room where the discarded limbs of previous travelers lay scattered on the floor. I’d been given safe passage for some reason, although he focused on my face as if trying to read something miniscule through a magnifying glass. The rush from the push the transportation technician gave me before hypersleep had been more intense than I could’ve imagined, and my head throbbed. As I sipped the sweet nectar -like concoction the doctor gave to me to calm my nerves, I couldn’t help but notice the skulls of monkeys affixed to the wall like trophies of ungodly experiments.

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