Demote the Earth

A Letter to the International Astronomical Union by Professor E. Meritus, brought to our attention by E. B. Fischadler
Art by Scarlett O’Hairdye


Sirs-

It has come to my attention that the IAU has been inconsistent and unfair in its treatment of Pluto. As is well known, Pluto has recently been demoted from the exalted status of “planet” to the lesser status of “minor planet.” The IAU asserts that this demotion is in accord with established criteria for the designation of a planet: 1) The object orbits a star, 2) The object is roughly spherical, and 3) The object’s gravitational field sweeps debris from its orbit.

Others have objected to the demotion of Pluto on various grounds. I do not intend to argue this point here. Rather, I wish to point out that the Earth also fails to meet the above mentioned criteria and so should also be demoted. Granted, Earth orbits the sun (despite the persistent belief by some that the universe is centered on them), and Earth is an oblate spheroid of low eccentricity, thus approximately spherical. An international society exists for the sole purpose of denying this, but I shall go with the consensus here. It is the third criterion that Earth fails to meet.

Art for "Demote the Earth"

According to the IAU, planets contribute to a tidy solar system by sweeping up junk in their orbits. Earth, on the other hand, is a litterbug.

 


To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016 collection.


Professor E. Meritus holds a barber chair in Syncretism at the Melinoe Institute of Technobabble. His publications include Pluto: It’s a Small World After All and the seminal work Original Publications on Recycled Paper–How Can That Be?


E. B. Fischadler has been writing short stories for several years, and has recently begun publishing. His stories have appeared in Mad Scientist Journal, Bewildering Stories, eFiction, and Beyond Science Fiction. In addition to fiction, Fischadler has published over 30 papers in refereed scientific journals, as well as a chapter of a textbook on satellite engineering. When he is not writing, he pursues a career in engineering and serves his community as an EMT. Fischadler continues to write short stories and is working on a novel about a naval surgeon. You can learn more about Fischadler and access his other publications at: http://ebfischadler.wordpress.com/


Scarlett O’Hairdye is a burlesque performer, producer and artist. To learn more, visit her site at www.scarlettohairdye.com.


“Demote the Earth” is © 2016 E. B. Fischadler
Art accompanying story is © 2016 Scarlett O’Hairdye

Cover for Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016
For more stories like this before they appear on the site, check out our Patreon!
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That Man Behind the Curtain: September 2016

Dawn with Fitting In Proofs

Dawn models the proof copies of Fitting In. Look! Our first hardcover book!

It’s been a hectic month! Getting Autumn 2016 and Fitting In finalized and out the door, Seattle “Stormpocalypse” 2016, and some huge changes on the home front. How did we do with MSJ this month?
The Money Aspect

Amounts in parentheses are losses/expenses.
Hosting: ($17.06)
Stories: ($70.00)
Art: ($551.97)
Advertising: ($30.00)
Processing Fees: ($18.80)
Printing: ($450.58)
Donations: $38.71
Ad Revenue: $0.33
Kickstarter: $5.00
Online Book Sales: $81.60

Total: ($1,012.77)
QTD: ($1,982.50)
YTD: ($2,065.70)
All Time: ($16,209.73)

As usual, I try to list costs for art and stories under the month that the stories run on the site rather than when I pay them. (This does not apply to special content, which does not have a specific month associated with it.) Sales are for sales when they take place, not when it’s actually paid out to me.

The Kickstarter revenue is someone belatedly buying an add-on through Backer Kit. We’re gearing up to start shipping backer rewards, so the printing and shipping costs are only going to go up.

Submissions

We reopened to submissions for the month of September. We received 36 submissions. We accepted 12. 33.3% acceptance for September. All time acceptance rate 44.7%.

Followers

At the end of September:

Facebook: 1,380 (+7)

Twitter: 484 (+3)

Google+: 61 (+1)

Tumblr: 175 (+11)

Mailing List: 62 (+0)

Patreon: 12 (+0)

Traffic

Traffic has perked up a little. In August we had 999 visits, involving 766 users and 1,850 page views.

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A Fictional Sell-Out

An essay by L. Gordonsby-Wilkes, as provided by Soren James
Art by Luke Spooner


Dedicated to people for whom the world has been tricked from them:

In Victorian England, it was common practice for an upper-class gentleman, when dressing for formal occasions, to enter a room with a low ceiling and to there perform a small jump, thus ensuring his hat was on properly. This practice began to die out in the 1880s due to a substantial number of neck injuries.

It was due to one of these neck injuries that a certain Lord “Dippy” Swanson was forced to give up rhinoceros hunting. Lord Swanson’s frustration and ensuing boredom resulted in him attaining the job of minister for education to the British Empire. It was in this post that he had his most notable historical influence: altering the apparatus of the education system to include the red pen.

Having always found the blunders of youth repugnant, he was often anxious to highlight these mistakes. So in his new position in charge of the education system, he chose to underscore these errors in the most confrontational and aggressive colour available, believing that if the pen were to be truly mightier than the sword, then the pen, too, should be coated in blood.

A less historically observed fact about Lord Swanson was his surreptitious control of the means-of-production of red pens, which led to a gross disparity in working conditions. Almost single-handedly, he promoted the idea that red pen manufacture was a specialised process, requiring specialist workers. It was through these manipulations of perception that he managed to ensure lucrative business investments, and comfortable jobs, for many of his wealthy friends.

A Fictional Sell Out

One day, I had the opportunity to approach Lord Swanson regarding these issues, but when I put the facts before him, he gruffly sought to dismiss me by saying, “Ridiculous! I have not been lining the pockets of wealthy friends, and clearly there is no difference in the manufacture of black or red pens. You’re off your head, sir!” He then made to leave the gentleman’s club, only to be prevented by two doormen who were sympathetic to my argument.


To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016 collection.


L. Gordonsby-Wilkes (born Luke Gordon) was raised in the Northern English town of Rustingwart. His childhood was spent in dire poverty, of which he would later claim that the only toy he owned during these difficult years was piece of wood he’d named “Imposter.”

As an adult, Gordonsby-Wilkes became a factory owner, eventually gaining a knighthood for his invention of the felt-tip pen. In 1901, he took over Felching Manor in the Surrey countryside, where he became increasingly reclusive until his suicide in 1914 (leaving a note that stated simply, “Imposter”).


Soren James is a writer and visual artist who recreates himself on a daily basis from the materials at his disposal, continuing to do so in an upbeat manner until one day he will sumptuously throw his drained materials aside and resume stillness without asking why. More of his work can be seen here: http://sorenjames.moonfruit.com/writing/4585140878


Luke Spooner a.k.a. ‘Carrion House’ currently lives and works in the South of England. Having recently graduated from the University of Portsmouth with a first class degree he is now a full time illustrator for just about any project that piques his interest. Despite regular forays into children’s books and fairy tales his true love lies in anything macabre, melancholy or dark in nature and essence. He believes that the job of putting someone else’s words into a visual form, to accompany and support their text, is a massive responsibility as well as being something he truly treasures. You can visit his web site at www.carrionhouse.com.

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Ships Passing in the Night: Romance & Marriage between Lovers from Anti-synchronous Worlds

An essay by Specialist Estaugh Johnten, as provided by Mickey Hunt
Art by Errow Collins


A frozen image of the park’s playfield looks somewhat like an ordinary playfield on Earth. Families are sitting on blankets with their picnics, a canine is poised in the air as he clamps his teeth on a flying disk, a woman is jogging down the path between a row of shade trees. Children dash though a play castle with its hanging bridges and polymer towers. All this would look ordinary, except the colors in the image are antipodal like in an old-fashion film negative. What might be shadow emanates light, and it all incandesces with a lustrous glow.

An expectant crowd has gathered at the edge of a field, and upon closer inspection, you’d see that the postures and faces droop with sadness. They’re faces possessing delicate contours no race of Earth ever had.

Even stranger would be watching the film in forward motion, because everything moves backwards: the people, the leaves on the trees, even the sounds of voices.

I myself am walking backwards, with my arm around the waist of a wife I’ve never met, and a charming child of mine with her arm wrapped around my neck. My wife is carrying my field notebook. I’m elated, and of course completely bewildered. As we walk in reverse toward the waiting crowd, I nearly stumble, because I can’t see where we’re going.

Children are playing a game nearby. One girl runs backwards and stoops to leave a small white ball on the ground. As we pass, the ball springs up of its own accord and smacks me in the nose. It hurts …

Welcome to the planet Lumen.

The above scenario describes my personal first minutes after I stepped to the ground of a planet circling the first dark star we’ve ever discovered and located within a vast region of dark matter. It’s a planet, indeed a whole region of space, where physics on its most rudimentary level, and, perhaps even time itself, moves opposite to ours.

Earth Command had engaged me on this exploratory mission for the remote possibility of encountering sentient beings on other worlds. While I have studied astrophysics as a hobby, my true expertise was in anthropology. My job was to catalog and analyze sentient alien cultural practices. Little did anyone guess that I would arrive on this new planet already “knowing” a great deal about life there. It was a knowledge that sprang into existence as events occurred. Of all our team members on the mission, I was the only one who could fully wrap his brain around how things worked. My Earth-based supervisors believe it was my Asperger’s Syndrome that enabled me to adapt to the confusing environment. What had isolated me from other people in normal time allowed me to better fit in on Lumen. Plus, I had already developed attitudes and techniques to help me compensate for my misperceptions.

Art accompanying "Ships Passing in the Night"

I finished writing and held up the notebook so she could read my words, I love you and our baby very, very much. I promise, we will be together again.


To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016 collection.


Estaugh A. Johnten grew up on a farm in Pennsylvania and earned a B.A. in Social/Cultural Anthropology at Templetown University. He received a Fulhaus/DAD Fellowship for the Eberhard-Hostleter-Universität in Tübingen, Germany, where he subsequently completed a M.A. His work with the extraordinary voyage of the USS Radiant was funded through a grant from the International Academies of Sciences, Medicine, and Engineering. When defending his Ph.D. dissertation at Hahvad University just prior to his departure from regular time, he told the examination committee to “Jump in the lake.”


Mickey Hunt explores the universe from his base in Asheville, North Carolina. His reports disguised as fiction have appeared in the Literary Hatchet, AntipodeanSF, the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, the Dark Mountain anthology, and elsewhere. Readers may learn more at chaoticterrainpress.blogspot.com.


Errow is a comic artist and illustrator focused on narrative work themed around worlds not quite like our own. She spends her time working with her partner on The Kinsey House webcomic and developing other comic projects when she’s not playing tag with her bear of a cat. More of her work can be found at errowcollins.wix.com/portfolio.


A brief, flash-length version of this story originally appeared in Penumbra, November 2014, with a title of “Not the Wrong Planet.”


“Ships Passing in the Night: Romance & Marriage between Lovers from Anti-synchronous Worlds” is © 2014 Mickey Hunt
Art accompanying story is © 2016 Errow Collins

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Now Available: iPhone Anthology Featuring Mad Scientist Authors

Cover for UntetheredEditor Dawn Vogel, along with MSJ alums Rhiannon Held and Sarina Dorie, are among the roster of authors who contributed to Untethered: A Magic iPhone Anthology. Here’s the official blurb:

Almost everyone carries a smartphone these days. They sit in pockets and on tables. They sleep on headboards and are the first things their owners check in the morning. They’ve edged out more mundane equipment like calendars and MP3 players.

They aren’t magical, of course. Or are they?

In Untethered: A Magic iPhone Anthology, 21 authors twist reality and call into question the mundanity we hold in our hands. They ask the question, “Is that smartphone completely explainable by science?” and they decide the answer is a resounding “No!”

From award-winners and bold new voices, from experienced fantasists and professional technologists, these stories are fun, clever, and often positive about the power of technology.

Enjoy new stories from:
Rhiannon Held / Manny Frishberg / Edd Vick / H.M. Jones / Kris Millering / Raven Oak / Jon Lasser / Sarina Dorie / Jonathon Burgess / Jeremiah Reinmiller / C.S. O’Cinneide / Stevehen Warren / Aaron Giddings, Sr. / Amanda Hackwith / Dale Cameron Lowry / Dawn Vogel / Kyle Yadlosky / J.S. Rogers / Angela Dell’Isola / Stephanie Djock / A. Moritz

At the intersection of fantasy and technology, iPhones could go either way.

Magic knows your number, and it’s calling you.

If you’d like to check out this book for yourself, it’s available on Amazon (Kindle, Print) and Smashwords.

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To Dr. Von Lupe, Concerning the Ice Pick

A letter by Dr. Elizabeth Chu, as provided by Alanna McFall
Art by America Jones


To Dr. Von Lupe, My Most Glorious God-on-Earth and Leader Among All the Ranks of Humans,

Greetings to you, my dark master who claims dominion over the land and the skies (and in whose name we are all working hard on claiming the seas). I hope that you are doing well when you receive this letter, and that the tax season was a smooth and painless one for you. You know what they say: the only entity that comes close to being as evil and powerful as the esteemed Dr. Von Lupe is the IRS. I say that all the time. As a captive in your underground lair, I have greatly appreciated not having to file my returns this year. Truly, I thank you for this gift.

However, I am writing to you today because of an issue I am currently facing that may have arisen out of your wise and omnipotent orders. To be direct and to the point and not to waste your precious time or attention, let me be brief: the lab where we are growing and teaching our hyper-intelligent squid has become a hostile work environment. And for the sake of the advancement of the dark sciences, the conditions must improve.

(I apologize, I see that my blood has begun to drip onto this page. I hope you will forgive the mess, as we are short on writing materials.)

Art Accompanying "To Dr. Von Lupe, Concerning the Ice Pick"

As a captive in your underground lair, I have greatly appreciated not having to file my returns this year. Truly, I thank you for this gift.


To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016 collection.


Breaking news on the disappearance of marine biologist Dr. Elizabeth Chu, who vanished nearly one year ago during a vacation near the Ural Mountains: authorities say that there is a possible link between the disappearance of Dr. Chu and the activities of a new terrorist cell working out of the mountain region. What use this shadowy group would have with one of the world’s leading experts in cephalopod biology has yet to be discovered, but police are hot on the trail of the kidnappers. Any leads pertaining to the location of Dr. Chu should be brought to the appropriate authorities immediately.


Alanna McFall is an upcoming science fiction and fantasy writer. She has worked in a variety of mediums, from short stories to novels to audio scripts, and across a range of locations, stretching the span of the country from New York to Minnesota to California. She is always looking for ways to expand her repertoire and get involved in her next project. Follow her work on Twitter at @AlannaMcFall, or on her website, alannamcfall.wordpress.com.


AJ is an illustrator and comic artist with a passion for neon colors and queer culture. Catch them being antisocial on social media @thehauntedboy.


“To Dr. Von Lupe, Concerning the Ice Pick” is © 2016 Alanna McFall
Art accompanying story is © 2016 America Jones

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Final Thoughts

An essay by Joshua Harken, as provided by Aaron Moskalik
Art by Leigh Legler


“I love you, man.” Jericho Bailey plants his face in my chest and puts me in a bear hug.

I hold my drink out to the side, careful not to spill it. It’s all too much. Jericho Freaking Bailey. And here I am in his house. Mansion?

Palatial estate.

No one had seen Jericho in a decade. The rumor is he doesn’t let anyone in. Even the delivery guys have to unload half a mile up the road, and robots take it the rest of the way.

Well, there’s never been a party I couldn’t crash. In this case, I brought the party to Jericho. Three of my closest friends are downstairs right now, exploring his well-stocked bar.

OK, so I met them just last Tuesday, but Hell, we’re on a road trip together, and by definition that makes us besties, right?

California, here we come. We cruise down the Coastal Highway where it turns inland a few miles and gets lost among the hills. Angelica … Angelique asks, “Isn’t this where that hermit billionaire lives? What wouldn’t I give to see his digs.”

Final Thoughts

He points to where the sun is preparing to dip herself into her pink bath. “We built it deep under the ocean, a thousand miles from anywhere. It powers everything now. The big boys keep its existence quiet, though. They want everyone to think it’s business as usual.”

Digs? Who talks like that? Anyway, I whip the Mustang onto the first turn off and head straight up a mountain. When we get to the top, I point toward the ocean. The sun glints off something hidden behind the palm trees. “That’s where Jericho Bailey lives,” I tell them. “On a clear day, you can see Hawaii from his penthouse.”

“Yeah, how would you know?” Desiree … Denise asks.

“Jericho and I are tight. We went to college together.”

“Maybe you can introduce us?” Damien says. Damien is full of ideas. “Let’s check out that hot ride you’re always talking about. Let’s go on a road trip. Let’s drive along the coast.” Maybe it’s his muscles rippling under his too tight shirt or the way his brown eyes twinkle over that crooked grin, but the girls always endorse his suggestions, and I can’t help but go along.

This time I’m not so sure though. I haven’t spoken to Jericho in twenty years. It was the first and last time I saw him laugh.


To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016 collection.


Joshua Harken was living a lie. Fast cars, casual friends, it all blurred together as one big skid-mark of a life. All he knew was he had to keep the pace, or he’d realize where he went wrong.

Nobody knew how unhappy he was. His quick wit and devilish charm made sure of that. He kept on the move anyway. No sense taking any chances. Joshua couldn’t outrun his dreams though, a half-forgotten face behind Coke-bottle glasses. Get him drunk enough, he might even say his name, Jericho Bailey. Yes, that Jericho Bailey. Jericho the Freaking Billionaire Recluse Bailey.


Aaron Moskalik was supposed to be writing his doctoral dissertation. Instead, he found himself producing lexical doodles, odd scraps of poems, and pieces of stories. This compulsion subsided for the better part of a decade after graduation. Life happened, a wife, a day job, a daughter.

A few years ago he rediscovered the passion to write and decided to study the craft this time around and produce finished works that will be happily read.


Leigh’s professional title is “illustrator,” but that’s just a nice word for “monster-maker,” in this case. More information about them can be found at http://leighlegler.carbonmade.com/.


“Final Thoughts” is © 2016 Aaron Moskalik
Art accompanying story is © 2016 Leigh Legler

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Now Available – Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016

msj-august-2016-ebookThe end of the world, holiday letters, and the state of mad science in 2016. These are but some of the strange tales to be found in this book.

Mad Scientist Journal: Autumn 2016 collects fourteen tales from the fictional worlds of mad science. For the discerning mad scientist reader, there are also pieces of fiction from Saffron Grey, Diana Rohlman, and Deborah Walker. Readers will also find other resources for the budding mad scientist, including an advice column, horoscopes, and other brief messages from mad scientists.

Authors featured in this volume also include Darci Vogel, Aaron Moskalik, Alanna McFall, Mickey Hunt, Soren James, E. B. Fischadler, Daniel Hudon, J R Hampton, Church Lieu, Michael Rettig, Alan Meyrowitz, Dana Mele, Shane Landry, Emma Tonkin, Laura Roberts, David Perlmutter, J. M. Kennett, Loria Chaddon, Constance Flux, Kate Elizabeth, and Torrey Podmajersky. Art provided by Ariel Alian Wilson, Katie Nyborg, Shannon Legler, Amanda Jones, Errow Collins, Luke Spooner, Scarlett O’Hairdye, Ariel Alian Wilson, Justine McGreevy.

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That Man Behind the Curtain: August 2016

Pumpkin Spice Editors

Here we are, with a pumpkin spice latte and a pumpkin spice Italian soda. Because Autumn.

Leaves are falling, we’re drinking pumpkin spice everything, and looking at our numbers!

The Money Aspect

Amounts in parentheses are losses/expenses.
Hosting: ($17.06)
Stories: ($100.00)
Art: ($248.63)
Advertising: ($40.00)
Processing Fees: ($17.83)
Donations: $37.71
Ad Revenue: $0.26
Online Book Sales: $23.71

Total: ($361.95)
QTD: ($969.73)
YTD: ($1,052.93)
All Time: ($15,196.96)

As usual, I try to list costs for art and stories under the month that the stories run on the site rather than when I pay them. (This does not apply to special content, which does not have a specific month associated with it.) Sales are for sales when they take place, not when it’s actually paid out to me. I also cover Paypal expenses when paying authors and artists as best I can. Paypal has made it more difficult, so I’m not as capable of covering international fees.

Submissions

We were closed to submissions in August. All time acceptance rate remains at 45%.

Followers

At the end of August:

Facebook: 1,373 (+4)

Twitter: 481 (+2)

Google+: 61 (+1)

Tumblr: 164 (+7)

Mailing List: 62 (+2)

Patreon: 12 (+0)

Traffic

Traffic has continued a downward trend. In August we had 902 visits, involving 680 users and 1,543 page views.

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The Giftie

An essay by Sadie Loveday, as provided by Judith Field
Art by Errow Collins


O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
(Robert Burns, “To a Louse”)

On my 40th birthday, I said to myself, “Sadie, it’s time for life to begin.” Sadie Loveday, spinster of this parish. I’m not bad looking, really–5 feet 12 inches with all my own teeth and hair. I wear glasses, but there are sexy frames these days.

Just as I’d convinced myself that perhaps short men did have a certain bijou charm, my mum had a stroke and I moved back in to look after her. She was a good friend, and we had some happy times. She never pursed her lips when I spent money on myself, however trivial the reason. Like the green hair extensions. “We’ve got to have our toys,” she said. “They’re the marigold on life’s muckheap.” She also reckoned that you should always have two things to look forward to, so there seemed to be brightness stretching into the future.

She died. I’d been out of the dating rat race for eighteen years, and all that stretched into the future were years on my own. “You don’t need a man to make you complete. Haven’t you heard of feminism?” my mates said, scurrying back to their hubbies. But I was still crouching at the sprinting blocks with nowhere to run. The finishing tape had been rolled up and put away.

It was all very well telling myself that nobody’s perfect, but how could I meet Mr He’ll-Do? I didn’t want to go out pubbing or clubbing, what’d be the point? With everywhere full of luscious girls in their teens and twenties, why would a man be interested in me? I googled “dating apps over 50.” All the descriptions included the word “seniors,” which made me shudder. I’d have to do it the really old-fashioned way–take up a hobby. Better than sitting at home squinting at my phone.

I’d always loved singing, so I joined the Mill Hill Chorale, who met in the local church hall once a week. I decided not to have any other sort of treat on choir days so that if anything else good did happen, I’d have two things to look forward to, like Mum said.

Shelley, the leader, said I was a tenor. You’d think that would put me in the middle of lots of hunky men, or at least one or two. It didn’t. They were all married, and spent the non-singing time complaining about arthritis, flatulence, and memory loss. I called it “the organ recital.” Most of them needed a nurse, not a lover. Old, dull, gay: pick any two from three. I decided I’d have to set my cap at younger men and hope they didn’t dodge it.

The Giftie

Congratulations on you buy the Giftinator™ from Foon Corporation. People all around you see you how you wish you would look. Switch on, the Giftinator™ tunes into your brain waves and determines how that would be. Acting within 10 foot radius. So just think hard, wait for results.


To read the rest of this story, check out the Mad Scientist Journal: Summer 2016 collection.


Sadie Loveday: Girl, 58. Diva. Lover. She showed no interest in nor aptitude for technology until she met her current partner. Shortly after, apparently out of the blue, the two of them took up inventing. The results include the Do-it-yourself karaoke machine/tea maker and the one-stage system to dye any fabric with leopard spots. You’ll see them advertised in the back of any local newspaper.


Judith Field lives in London, UK. She is the daughter of writers, and learned how to agonise over fiction submissions at her mother’s (and father’s) knee. She’s a pharmacist working in emergency medicine, a medical writer, editor, and indexer. She started writing in 2009. She mainly writes speculative fiction, a welcome antidote from the world she lives in. Her work has appeared in a variety of publications in the USA, UK, and Australia. When she’s not working or writing, she studies English, knits, sings, and swims, not always at the same time. She blogs at Luna Station Quarterly and www.millil.blogspot.com.


Errow is a comic artist and illustrator focused on narrative work themed around worlds not quite like our own. She spends her time working with her partner on The Kinsey House webcomic and developing other comic projects when she’s not playing tag with her bear of a cat. More of her work can be found at errowcollins.wix.com/portfolio.


“The Giftie” is © 2016 Judith Field.
Art accompanying the story is © 2016 Errow Collins.

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