Featured story:

In Memoriam: P.E. Bartleby Crulge on the Death of Stephen Hawking

"Esteemed ladies and gentleman of the house, or whathaveyou in this circumstance, director of the Academy, students and novitiates:

As head of sciences, the duty of announcing a passing in our community, as they call it, naturally becomes mine, though I'd rather it belong to someone else. Being a herald of death is an office no one should ever look forward to, but never mind that now. I am asked to do it, and so I will and have it over.

The greatest cosmologist, and perhaps one of the greatest scientists in our world or our universe, however far that may extend, has died. I certainly never expected him to pass on so suddenly. It is literally impossible that he should have lived forever-- being in Space-Time, the probability of living forever is against us-- but he really did seem to be immortal. He ignored his condition and got on with life, and did a better job at it than most of his or of any generation-- and yet, perhaps because of his illness, he triumphed at living, at l…

Story for the Day: The Bramble

There is always a bigger fish.
There are also always older Gods.
For however powerful the Four Sons of Diras promise to be, there is always one who reigns supreme over them, one whom Baba Connridh dotingly calls 'The Bramble'.

Story of the Day: Comminatory Company

Many of us might wish for Divine Interference, but for someone like Baba Connridh, who is regularly visited by the whole pantheon, godly visits are never worth their weight in pie:

Story for the Day: Just Visitin'

Normally, Baba does not like visitors to her farm. She goes to many lengths to repel anyone from trying to leap over her fence and approach the house, but for those who know how to navigate the minefield of bear traps and pitfalls, the best dinner a day's work can afford lies within...

A Legend Passes into the Realm: #RIPUsulaKLeGuin

While there are many fantasy books and many authors of speculative fiction, very few with legendary status ever live so long, and if they do, they often leave their fantastic worlds earlier than situation and health allows. Pratchett unfortunately died early, Eddings abandoned his original universe to fly to more scientific heights, White traded Arthur for Lilliput, and Howard was swept away by mental illness before he could see his Hyborean Age leap to international and universal acclaim, but amongst the Great Men of speculative fiction, there are few women who invade the scene, women who have laid siege to the tree fort and camped near the gatehouse of literary exclusivity.

Ursula K. LeGuin was the shield maiden of her day. She never won a Nobel Prize, refuse to accept the title of 'fantasy writer' when she was a distinguished novelist, and raged against an industry that made itself a bastion against women in writing. She did not change nor abbreviate her name for the sake o…

Story for the Day: Holiday Expectations

As Ailineighdaeth, the Frewyn winter holiday and beginning of the new year, comes to an end, there is much the residents of the keep have to be grateful for--  least of all being the absence of a certain God at their holiday celebrations:
Alasdair directed the children, giving them the laurels and festoons Pastaddams made in honour of the holiday. “One end over here near the counter, that’s right, and the other in the inlet. Pin it there, and then you can continue without having it stretch over the beam.” He watched them and gave their work an approving nod. “Good. Now you can go on to the other side of the room.” He turned toward the table momentarily, and found Boudicca eyeing him with secretive delight. “What?” “I love when you delegate with your hands on your hips,” she said, smiling at him. “You are one dishrag over the shoulder away from being an anxious mother.” Alasdair spied her unimpressedly. “I am a solicitous father and uncle,” he contended. “Well,” said Sheamas, moving towar…