My good friend and Clarion West classmate Randy Henderson won the 2014 Writers of the Future! I am super, super excited for him!
And while you’re there, you should read stories by my friends: “Steel Kelly” by Bridget Natale, and “Space Sharks” by Brandann Hill-Mann. They’re both fantastic, and this is overall a very cool lineup of stories!
Every so often, the cry goes up: “Fewer love triangles and more threesomes!” But what if you’re a writer who wants to write some polyamorous relationships, but you’re not sure where to start?
This article is here to help.
Please note that this is not a guide about how to be in a polyamorous relationship. That ground has been covered by other people in more depth and detail than I will ever be able to manage. (I have some good articles for you to read at the end of this piece, should you be looking for that.) This is a quick guide about writing polyamorous characters, how poly relationships work, and special concerns writers need to watch out for. This is not a comprehensive post, but it should give you a place to start.
Ready to go? The good stuff is under the cut.
News, news, I have news!
I am, as of this week, the Communications Specialist for Clarion West. I’m going to be the one writing site content and organizing promotion for the Write-a-thon and the One-Day workshops. I’m really excited about this, and hoping that I can bring good things to the table for the organization.
This was a piece I discovered in my archives this week. This was an assignment given to us in week 1 of Clarion West by John Kessel, which was to write a thousand-word flash piece that started with a list. What I ended up was a little long, but I still liked it when I came across it again.
So here you have it. Happy New Year!
And Every Moment Before This One
By Kris Millering
“Steering wheel, brake pedal, stuffed tiger, copy of the Odyssey?”
I craned my neck around to look at my co-pilot. “What, no copy of the Odyssey?” The towel scrunched up under my ass as I turned slightly. I always liked to have something between me and bare vinyl, especially when it was so hot in the barn.
“No stuffed tiger.” He held up a worn copy of a book, half its cover torn off and the spine broken so the pages fluffed out like a scared cat. “Katy, are you sure about this? We could go back. Do some yoga. Meditate. Mom always says meditation is good for you.” He pulled the bandana he wore over his mouth down and frowned at me. “Calms you down.”
I snorted. “Your mom also says that Rice Krispies aren’t food. I don’t believe a word your mom says.” I turned resolutely away from Pete, scrunched down in my seat. One hand on the ray gun at my side, one hand on the smooth plastic of the steering wheel. “Plug it in, let’s go.”