It's time I had some time alone

The best thing about today was that I arrived this morning at South Station with enough time to buy three books—T.A. Pratt's Blood Engines, John C. Wright's Fugitives of Chaos, and Michael Chabon's Gentlemen of the Road—so that when the Acela had to backtrack and seek an alternate route due to a problem with the bridge between New London and New Haven, and therefore arrive in New Haven a good hour behind schedule, I was not stranded without words. The first of these is an impending Aztec apocalypse in not quite our San Francisco, with the kind of dialogue that mostly died out after the 1930's; the second continues to play with myth and quantum mechanics in ways that don't annoy me, although it could still all implode in the third volume; and the last is the best homage to Fafhrd and the Grey Mouser ever to feature tenth-century Jews: in general, awesome. Otherwise, today? Not so much.

My short story "The Sense of Spirals," originally published in Fantasy Magazine #1 in 2005, has been reprinted at the magazine's website. It has labyrinths and dead crows. Enjoy.