I've just whipped through (as I do every few years) the first 5 of Roger Zelazny's 'Amber' books. The Corwin series. Apart from the final book being a bit tedious in parts (enough with the philosophy!) They were as great as I remember. It's these books and Julian May's Exiles and Galactic Milleu series that I find bear multiple re reads.

What do others read and re-read?

#SciFi #ScienceFiction #mastofiction #bookstadon

"Player" - a little dip into #horror.

#Blog #WritingCommunity #MastoFiction #ShortStory

https://write.as/bryan-kehua/player

"Player" - a little dip into #horror.

#Blog #WritingCommunity #MastoFiction #ShortStory

https://write.as/bryan-kehua/player

@bigzaphod #mastofiction

"New Servitude" - Chapter 10 of #NeoTokyoDead has just dropped. This is a one-time edited work, so expect typos. Send some criticism too!

#SerialNovel #MastoFiction #SciFI #Cyberpunk #AmWriting #WritingCommunity

Sienna was a sore loser by most standards. She was the singularly most competitive person Aaron knew. Yet, even she reached new heights when the #Story Cube that she rage-swallowed reached new lows. Sienna was pronounced dead at 01:23am on Sunday morning.

#vss365 #Prompt #MastoFiction #ShortStory

"Release the #kraken!", I shouted.

I'd always wanted to say that. Somehow, it just didn't go down well with my fellow lawn bowlers.

#vss365 #MastoFiction #MicroFiction

#Micronouvelle

-Henri, c'est quoi le bateau qui sort de la brume, là bas ?
-Je crois bien que c'est la Marie Caroline,il a disparu il y a 400 ans dans le Triangle des Bermudes...
-Si tu veux mon avis,Henri,on dirait bien qu'il est hanté,ce rafiot... On va encore se retrouver avec des fantômes plein le bourg...
- Et qui va-t-on appeler ???
-Ta gueule, Henri ! Tu me fatigues avec tes références cinématographiques toutes pétées !!!

#Mastofiction
#Mastocourt
#HistoireCourte
#nanofiction

Sharing this bit of #MastoFiction #Writing and hoping you'll like it. CW specifically for the words, "shit," "idiot," "dumb," and "stupid." This comes from an earlier idea that many different birds could have a "fire gene" to make them phoenixes just like many different big cats can have a hyper-pigmentation gene to make black panthers. Here is the first story of my Fire Gene Collection.

"The Sparrow Phoenix"

Quickflame was a bird with a very short temper. He darted from tree to tree impatiently watching the other sparrows in his flock as they ate from the redberry bushes and bathed in the stream. Quickflame had the fire gene, which made him a Phoenix like his great grandfather, but not like anybody else he knew. His great grandfather was very old and lived in his own flock, and Quickflame rarely saw him, but it seemed like he got older every time he did. He rarely transcended, unlike Quickflame, who seemed to blow up at the most minor inconvenience.

He stomped his glowing chicken feet impatiently as his flock ate and played and rested. He even sent out a warning call even though he saw no predators.

The panicked rush of a few youngwings blew across his face, but most of the flock was wise to his tricks. They mostly counted on him to "lookout" to keep him out of the way because he always wanted to move. He sent out another warning call, but this one proved fruitless. In fact, a handful of youngwings flew back out of the trees to rejoin the festivities, emboldened by the masses' complete disregard of Quickflame's shenanigans.

He gave up on sending alarm calls for the time being and instead switched to a high-pitched chatter of discontent. Most of the youngwings flew back to join the flock, one stopping to pluck a feather from Quickflame's head, which he returned with a red hot poke to the ear that sent the discontented little punk fleeing back to the berry bush calling, "Fweep fweep fweep fweep fweep!"

As Quickflame followed the plucky brat, movement caught the corner of his eye. It wasn't a movement he was used to seeing from flitting family, so he turned his head to see what it was, but the motion stopped, and the source vanished. He sat there for a moment, watching, which gave some of the flock pause, but when the movement didn't start again, he went back to his annoyed flitting and impatient chatter. A twig cracked in the distance, which he might not have heard if he hadn't been watching for movement just now. His chatter turned to a series of low tweets of caution, which were ignored even by the youngwings. A leaf rustled, and his head snapped around so fast that he might have broken it if he were any other kind of beast. Thats when he saw it, frozen in place, waiting to take its next step.

He had only seen one other feral cat back when he was a youngwing himself and still living with his great grandfather's flock closer to the human lands. Back then his great grandfather was teaching him not only how to be a Phoenix, but how to be a flock member. The cat back then had come to the streams often to hunt not only for sparrows, but for mice, lizards, snakes, frogs, insects, shrews and anything it could catch in its horrific claws and teeth. His great grandfather would always let out a warning call whenever he saw it, and almost everything with ears would flee, and most things without ears if they saw the commotion.

Quickflame let out the same warning call now, but even as he did, he had a feeling of dread that materialized in every single flock member not giving a shit.

Step.

The cat advanced. Quickflame let out three rapid-fire danger calls, but again, none heeded his warning.

Step.

Call.

Step. Step....Step.

It was learning just now, and Quickflame was learning too late.

Step.

The cat was getting close enough to see if its fur pattern didn't blend in with the trees so well. The flock continued eating, bathing and playing.

Quickflame launched into a tirade of distress calls, flying from tree to tree and even dive bombing the flock and the cat. The cat never broke its focus, only waited and stepped when the opportunity presented itself. Step. Step.

Panicked and running out of ideas, Quickflame felt a familiar rise of heat that told him, "Release and it'll all be over." He might have been tempted to take up the offer. Hell, he *was* tempted, but before he could even consider this, the cat took three more carefully-measured steps and his target became clear: the feather-plucking youngwing punk.

Now, no sparrow enjoys being plucked, but it is part of life in a flock, especially for birds who prove themselves annoying, which he had, birds who abuse their privileges, which he had, and birds who were bad flock members, which he was. He couldn't blame anybody for treating him the way that they did.

He had to make it up to them.

As he fought back the fire and the frustration, the cat pounced. He only had one shot at this.

He had only seen his great grandfather do this once soon before he left to join his own flock. It had been raining, and the distant sounds of thunder had masked the old cat's footsteps. His great grandfather had not seen or heard it until it was upon a helpless hopper rabbit. Quickflame's great grandfather, being not only a flock member to sparrows, but a flock member of the forest, sprang into action.

Just as Quickflame did now, vowing to be the flock member, the sparrow and the Phoenix his family could be proud of.

He dove out of the tree at lightning speed, moving his wings so fast that they created a wave of heat that washed over the trees and wilted their leaves.

The feather-plucking punk turned his head to see a wall of flesh and fur flying toward him. His eyes widened, and his wings went up, but not fast enough. As tongue and teeth came to meet him, he could do little but hope for a miracle.

The cat was pouncing faster than Quickflame remembered of the past, but he couldn't coulstop to think about this. He had to save the feather-plucking punk. Throwing all of his concentration into reaching this one place at this one time, Quickflame flapped his blazing wings one final time and then tucked them against his slender body, closed his glowing talons tight and felt the teeth sink into his adrenaline-laden muscle and his hollow, fragile bone.

#Mastoradio
#Mastofiction

Boris Karloff reads The cat that walked by herself

1962

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0w9TULfzLeE

"First they came for #Assange and #Chelsea, and I didn't care because I read too many articles about #Assange's persona and was gullible.

Then they came for #Greenwald and I didn't care because I 'had no time' and because 'hacking is a crime, you see?' and because Brazil is far away..

Then I realized: 'oh wait?! what?! Shit!!!', shortly before I got arrested myself by fascists hordes."

#MastoFiction #OrIsIt? #FreeAssange #FreeChelsea #DontExtraditeAssange