Each of us has at least one weird friend who defies convention and relishes the bizarre. It’s even possible many of us are that friend. Of course, there are degrees of weirdness — I, for instance, consider myself to be on the charmingly eccentric side of weird as opposed to being on its totally bonkers, crazy-eyed, bat-eating, raggedy edge.
However, even if I were, I would still enjoy indulging in other people’s weird literary thoughts — like the stories inThe Rabbit Hole— just as much as I enjoyed writing “Life Changing” for this anthology.
“I will not be its illustrator.”S.T. Ranscht, author of Space, Time, and Raspberries.
“Good.” Everyone viewing this page.
The only thing Raspberries wants is to go as fast as lightning. But when the teacher says, “Nothing can go as fast as lighting — it’s a Scientific Rule,” Raspberries must either give up the dream or keep trying to break the Rule, even though no one knows what will happen if the Rule breaks.
My beta readers (ages 5-9) — and their adults — have given me such excellent feedback on my most recent edits, that I believe Space, Time, and Raspberries is finally ready to meet the right publisher.
It was the 2016 A to Z Blogging Challenge, and I finally saw a reason to set up a site of my own. When I’d signed up for a WordPress account two years earlier, I didn’t really anticipate becoming a blogger. I only did it so I could comment on a friend’s posts. (Huh. It didn’t seem so silly back then.)
We recently received a form letter rejection ofENHANCEDfrom an agency based in Tacoma, where 41″ of rain fall every year. That’s 2″ more than the national average, and doesn’t even count Tacoma’s annual 4″ of snow.
We inferred Rejection #3 from a Del Mar agency’s non-response yesterday. Today, to commemorate the non-occasion by making something beautiful, I created a book thong whose ornaments and colors imply the sea.
Elation is the tide that ebbs and flows. Happiness, the wave that comes and goes. Beneath them both, unending currents roll, and so Resolve propels us to our goal.S.T. Ranscht
Somewhere beyond the sea, Somewhere, waiting for me, An agent stands on golden sands And loves all the pages I’m sending.