Shiny Issue 1 has finally left the nest and has set flight for inboxes everywhere.
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Issue 1 features:
"Small Change" by Trent Jamieson
"Close to Death" by Eugie Foster
"The Sun People" by Sue Isle
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Shiny Submissions
We've had a few queries - yes! yes! we are still accepting submissions for Shiny. We are still looking for exciting, fresh new YA stories for Issue 3 for this year!
Monday, September 24, 2007
Sneak Peek: The Sun People
Here's a sneak peak of the third of three stories in Issue 1 of Shiny. Don't forget you can subscribe using the paypal button on the sidebar to get yourself a copy of the whole issue as soon as it comes!
The Sun People
by Sue Isle
The only way into Perth these days is to catch a ride with a supply truck from one of the private operations. Not many of us know how to drive any more. From Melbourne I got a series of rides to the WA border where I hooked up with an interstater. I helped Sharon, the driver, load supplies and bags of mail and then piled into the truck's cabin. She wanted to chat and that, of course, is the main payment for riding.
"Why the fuck do you want to go back there now that you're out?" was the question she most wanted cleared up.
"I was only in Melbourne for medical treatment. I'm not an evacuee."
"Yeah but what happens if you get sick again? There's shit-all in WA now. You couldn't even score an aspirin."
"I won't get sick again. It wasn't that kind of problem." The last thing I wanted was to explain what it was and maybe have Sharon throw me out of the truck. While not exactly the stereotype of the female truckie, she was definitely more muscular than I was. Her red tank top and shorts didn't leave much to the imagination.
"You couldn't pay me to live in Perth. It's so fucking hot they have to do all their work and whatever at night and just lie around during the day."
I didn't answer that. It was pretty well true. When the sun rose on the highway, Sharon cranked up the air conditioning which was so noisy that I didn't have to talk any more. When we stopped for a mutual leak on opposite sides of the truck, I opened my shirt and peeked at the scars covering my chest. They were healing fine, which wasn't why I was checking. I just wanted to look at them again and make sure this was really real. I'd finally gone under the surgeon's knife in Melbourne and come out looking like the real me. I was still sort of skinny and would have to look up to a lot of guys but I didn't care about that. I'd been warned that unless I could continue with the medication, I might not muscle up very much or need to shave a lot. They'd given me as many pills as they could but I wouldn't exactly be able to wander down to a chemist to get more. They'd done a really good job below the waist too.
The Sun People
by Sue Isle
The only way into Perth these days is to catch a ride with a supply truck from one of the private operations. Not many of us know how to drive any more. From Melbourne I got a series of rides to the WA border where I hooked up with an interstater. I helped Sharon, the driver, load supplies and bags of mail and then piled into the truck's cabin. She wanted to chat and that, of course, is the main payment for riding.
"Why the fuck do you want to go back there now that you're out?" was the question she most wanted cleared up.
"I was only in Melbourne for medical treatment. I'm not an evacuee."
"Yeah but what happens if you get sick again? There's shit-all in WA now. You couldn't even score an aspirin."
"I won't get sick again. It wasn't that kind of problem." The last thing I wanted was to explain what it was and maybe have Sharon throw me out of the truck. While not exactly the stereotype of the female truckie, she was definitely more muscular than I was. Her red tank top and shorts didn't leave much to the imagination.
"You couldn't pay me to live in Perth. It's so fucking hot they have to do all their work and whatever at night and just lie around during the day."
I didn't answer that. It was pretty well true. When the sun rose on the highway, Sharon cranked up the air conditioning which was so noisy that I didn't have to talk any more. When we stopped for a mutual leak on opposite sides of the truck, I opened my shirt and peeked at the scars covering my chest. They were healing fine, which wasn't why I was checking. I just wanted to look at them again and make sure this was really real. I'd finally gone under the surgeon's knife in Melbourne and come out looking like the real me. I was still sort of skinny and would have to look up to a lot of guys but I didn't care about that. I'd been warned that unless I could continue with the medication, I might not muscle up very much or need to shave a lot. They'd given me as many pills as they could but I wouldn't exactly be able to wander down to a chemist to get more. They'd done a really good job below the waist too.
Sneak Peek: Small Change
Here's a sneak peak of the second of three stories in Issue 1 of Shiny. Don't forget you can subscribe using the paypal button on the sidebar to get yourself a copy of the whole issue as soon as it comes!
Small Change
by Trent Jamieson
I found the door on the third day after we moved into the new house, and the eighth day of the summer holidays. The door was behind a big empty bookcase which, if things had been normal to begin with, Mum and Dad would have filled straight away. But they weren't. I'm still not sure why I decided to find out what was behind the bookcase, though I can imagine what Mum would say.
"What possessed you to look behind the bookcase is what possesses you to read books, Julia. You are a curious, imaginative soul, and an empty bookcase, well... what might lie behind it is exactly the sort of thing that would appeal to you. The type of books you read, the books that would normally be contained within that bookcase, are all about magical doorways."
Which isn't precisely true, but Mum is given to hyperbole. I really hadn't expected to find anything there. I knew the difference between the worlds I inhabited in my head, and the one I clumped around in, in my shoes.
I moved the bookcase by degrees. Sort of rocked it to one side. It was rather heavy, but after a couple of teetering swings, I could see the door. I shifted it a little more, creating a wedge of space, and then crept in. I was sweaty. It was hot outside, but here near the door it was quite cool. The bookcase shuddered dangerously behind me, but I ignored it, because here was a door, and in my head, I knew it would open inwards, away from the back of the bookcase, and out into..
And it did.
This would not have been peculiar, if the bookcase hadn't been against the rear wall of the house. You can see where this is going, because if you're reading this, you probably like the same sort of books I do. What the door opened onto shouldn't have been there.
Small Change
by Trent Jamieson
I found the door on the third day after we moved into the new house, and the eighth day of the summer holidays. The door was behind a big empty bookcase which, if things had been normal to begin with, Mum and Dad would have filled straight away. But they weren't. I'm still not sure why I decided to find out what was behind the bookcase, though I can imagine what Mum would say.
"What possessed you to look behind the bookcase is what possesses you to read books, Julia. You are a curious, imaginative soul, and an empty bookcase, well... what might lie behind it is exactly the sort of thing that would appeal to you. The type of books you read, the books that would normally be contained within that bookcase, are all about magical doorways."
Which isn't precisely true, but Mum is given to hyperbole. I really hadn't expected to find anything there. I knew the difference between the worlds I inhabited in my head, and the one I clumped around in, in my shoes.
I moved the bookcase by degrees. Sort of rocked it to one side. It was rather heavy, but after a couple of teetering swings, I could see the door. I shifted it a little more, creating a wedge of space, and then crept in. I was sweaty. It was hot outside, but here near the door it was quite cool. The bookcase shuddered dangerously behind me, but I ignored it, because here was a door, and in my head, I knew it would open inwards, away from the back of the bookcase, and out into..
And it did.
This would not have been peculiar, if the bookcase hadn't been against the rear wall of the house. You can see where this is going, because if you're reading this, you probably like the same sort of books I do. What the door opened onto shouldn't have been there.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Sneak Peek: Close to Death
by Eugie Foster
Calling the northbound traffic on Georgia 400 a crawl was an insult to all crawling things. Tortoises could have overtaken them without breaking a sweat. Ronnie wondered briefly if tortoises sweated, but then she regretted it. Thinking about sweating tortoises made her acutely conscious of the perspiration soaking her pantyhose and the sticky feel of the vinyl seat against her skin.
“We’re going to be late.” Don gripped the steering wheel of their timeworn Honda Civic. His face matched his voice, grim and resigned.
“Will they wait for us?” Patsy asked from the back seat.
Ronnie flipped down her sun visor with its inset makeup mirror. As far as makeup went, she couldn’t think of a better way of turning herself into a Tammy Fay Baker casualty than to apply it in a moving vehicle. But the little mirror was perfect for keeping tabs on kids in the back.
Patsy’s golden pigtails drooped, wilting with perspiration, but her bright blue eyes glittered eagerly. “I don’t want to miss seeing Uncle Henry’s body.”
Calling the northbound traffic on Georgia 400 a crawl was an insult to all crawling things. Tortoises could have overtaken them without breaking a sweat. Ronnie wondered briefly if tortoises sweated, but then she regretted it. Thinking about sweating tortoises made her acutely conscious of the perspiration soaking her pantyhose and the sticky feel of the vinyl seat against her skin.
“We’re going to be late.” Don gripped the steering wheel of their timeworn Honda Civic. His face matched his voice, grim and resigned.
“Will they wait for us?” Patsy asked from the back seat.
Ronnie flipped down her sun visor with its inset makeup mirror. As far as makeup went, she couldn’t think of a better way of turning herself into a Tammy Fay Baker casualty than to apply it in a moving vehicle. But the little mirror was perfect for keeping tabs on kids in the back.
Patsy’s golden pigtails drooped, wilting with perspiration, but her bright blue eyes glittered eagerly. “I don’t want to miss seeing Uncle Henry’s body.”
Shiny Set to Launch
Table of Contents for Issue 1 of Shiny:
"Close to Death" by Eugie Foster
"Small Change" by Trent Jamieson
"The Sun People" by Sue Isle
Shiny is set to launch with the first issue due out any day. Keep an eye out on this blog for some teasers and for news on when the first issue is finally available!
"Close to Death" by Eugie Foster
"Small Change" by Trent Jamieson
"The Sun People" by Sue Isle
Shiny is set to launch with the first issue due out any day. Keep an eye out on this blog for some teasers and for news on when the first issue is finally available!
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