Podcast appearances and mentions of Melissa Scott

Catherine Ludoff of Queen of Swords Press returns to share her latest Wolves of Wolf's Point series updates, as well as some of the latest offerings from Queen of Swords Press authors Michael Merriam, Melissa Scott, Amy Griswold, and others! https://queenofswordspress.com/  https://catherinelundoff.net/  http://www.wrotepodcast.com/catherine-lundoff-qosp/ 

Ross shares a talk he gave at SkeptiCamp LA 2024 looking at how practitioners of non-science wall themselves off from criticism. With examples from our prior investigations, Ross examines why an individual or organization might ignore its critics, fight back, vaguebook, flood the zone, cut ties, wall off itself and its members, or elect to positively engage. Plus, some very important and salient information about the communal behaviors of naked mole rats.We have social media: X! Facebook! You can add our RSS feed here.See Ross's talk on YouTube.

Melissa Scott is a celebrity Loctician and a highly exceptional hairstylist with over 20 years of experience.For more info, visit shrimptankpodcast.com/atlanta/Check us out on Facebook: www.facebook.com/theshrimptankFollow us on Twitter: twitter.com/theshrimptank?lang=enCheck out Atlanta on LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/showcase/shrimp-tank-episodes

Welcome back for another journey across time!! In today's episode, Melissa Scott discusses her past life regression experience where she found herself crossing paths with someone we know today as a historical figure. Curious who it is? Check it out... We also spend some time diving into questions regarding, presentation, and the difference between ego, authority, authenticity, and being an asshole. Check Melissa out on TikTok: @hey.its.melissa UPCOMING WORKSHOP: PAST LIVES AND ASTROLOGY TIES When: Sunday, July 16th, 2:00-5 pm, Eastern, 11:00-2pm, Pacific Where: ZOOM Bring: Your Most Magical, Amazing Self   In this 3-hour live class, we will combine Astrology and Past lives to help you gain a greater perspective on where you've been and where you're potentially going.   In the first half of the class, we'll talk about the Moon's north and south nodes, what signs they're currently in, and what they could represent for you.   In the second half, Daniel, "The Past Life Regressionist", will lead us in a group past life regression where you can individually access a past life experience.   Through memes and humor we'll explore:    What are the nodes of the moon? How the nodes relate to your chart. Potential Karmic influences in your chart. What's a past life regression, and how you can learn from it?   This course is for you if:   You are interested in how past lives and astrology intersect. Want to do a past life regression. Want to hear a different perspective on these topics.   Due to the nature of the class, there will be no recording. A few days before the class you'll receive a workbook and instructions for the regression. There will be a 5 min break in the middle of the class and a Q/A at the end.   What qualifies Christian and Daniel to discuss these topics?    Christian Bradley West has been engaged in astrology for over twenty years and has read hundreds of astrology charts. His degree is in Exercise Science, and as a personal trainer, he helped many people get in touch and transform their bodies. Now, he applies those same principles using astrology as a guide to support his clients' goals and help them live a more expressive life on multiple levels. When he's not posting funny memes to Instagram as The Country Clairvoyant, he's editing his forthcoming books, while occasionally pausing to pet some moss. Daniel “The Past Life Regressionist” is certified in the past life regression methods known as Quantum Healing Hypnosis Technique (level 2) & Beyond Quantum Healing. Since 2016, he's facilitated dozens of past life group regression workshops, and he's excited to guide you on your own journey through time. And when he's not time traveling, you can listen to him as the host of his podcast, Timeless Spirituality. ⁠⁠https://www.thecountryclairvoyant.com/product-page/past-lives-and-astrology-ties

Quinto episodio de Dietario Disperso, un viaje por la semana gastropolítica de Maxi Guerra. Jueves 25/5 - Dabbawalas: los mejores repartidores de comida del mundo Citas: Trailer de la película The Lunchbox (2013) Música: The Kinks, Satyayit Ray Viernes 26/5 - La parte de los ángeles Citas: Extracto de Looking For Eric (2009) y The angel's share (2012), ambas dirigidas por Ken Loach. Su nueva película se titula The Old Oak. Gracias al sommelier Liber Pisciottano por Música: The Proclaimers Sábado 27/5 - El color natural de la zanahoria Citas: Cromorama, Riccardo Falcinelli Música: Bob Marley, Maximiliano Martínez Domingo 28/5 - La masacre del perejil Citas: El banquete de los dictadores, Victoria Clark y Melissa Scott; extractos del trailer del documental Perejiles (2009), Dir. por Federico González Rejón Música: Andrés Calamaro, Esther Abrami Lunes 29/5 - Debimos ser felices Citas: Debimos ser felices, Rafaela Lahore. Gracias a la autora por la lectura de dos de sus capítulos. Música: Marc Ribot Martes 30/5 - La comida real de Martin Parr Cita: Martin Parr, Val Williams; Real Food, Martin Parr Música: Blur, Chris Haugen, Maximiliano Martínez Miércoles 31/5 - Chocolate, un Dios oscuro Citas: Cosas (y) Materiales, Mark Miodownik, Biografía del hambre, Amèlie Nothomb Música: Serge Gainsbourg Dietario Disperso es un podcast semanal escrito y narrado por ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Maxi Guerra⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. El diseño de portada es de ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Pablo Corrado .⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Pueden suscribirse y activar las notificaciones en el canal Gastropolítica y enterarse de novedades en la cuenta ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@gastro_politica⁠ de twitter e instagram. ⁠⁠⁠También pueden escuchar la primera temporada completa de la serie Gastropolítica y sus episodios extra. Grazie mille.

Smack and Gabi go over their best (and not so best) recent reads, most of which will be coming or going from the Smack Shelf (a shelf in Gabi's apartment that contains all the loans from Smack).  The incomers are all surprisingly good YA reads while the outgoing books include three powerhouses - a perfect fairy-tale-esque novella, an incredible Malaysian-American ghost story, and a sci-fi novel with maybe the best multiverse worldbuilding we've ever seen.  Other fun recent reads cover a paladin and necromancer begrudgingly becoming friends, a cat astronaut desperately trying to eat pizza, a Holmes-ian mystery with plenty of pining, and a Navy captain (who is definitely not a pirate) trying to deal with sea dragons (and pirates). Book discussed in this episode include: Blade of Secrets (Bladesmith #1) & Master of Iron (Bladesmith #2) by Tricia Levenseller The Corpse Queen by Heather Herrman Cold the Night, Fast the Wolves (Edge Worlds #1) by Meg Long A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1) by Scarlett St. Clair Minor Feelings: An Asian American Reckoning by Cathy Park Hong Nettle & Bone by T. Kingfisher Black Water Sister by Zen Cho The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson A Man Called Ove by Fredrik Backman To Kill a Necromancer (Blackwing #1) & Hetgarib's Curse (Blackwing #2) by C.M. Alongi The First Cat in Space Ate Pizza (The First Cat in Space #1) by Mac Barnett and Shawn Harris (Illustrator) Death by Silver (Julian Lynes and Ned Mathey #1) by Melissa Scott and Amy Griswold The Bright and Breaking Sea (Captain Kit Brightling #1) by Chloe Neill

Great interview tonight with Melissa Scott. Creator and Owner of Loc Em Up products. Listen in learn the best tips and strategies for growing, maintaining, or even transitioning from wigs, weaves, or braids too loc. Also, if you are recovering from Cancer treatments, or Alopecia and lost your hair due to it, see how her products can potentially help grow your hair back Loc Em Up products are natural products engineered with the finest raw oils and nutrients to promote a healthy and sustainable locking journey no matter how far along you are.  LocEmUp products are truly in a league of their own as their are many common testimonials of LocEmUp product users locking their hair in 6 and 7 weeks, The various Loc Em Up products offered were created to not only lock your hair quickly, NATURALY, and with care, but to also maintain your locks for the entire life of your Locking Journey. The Vision of Loc Em Up Products is to revolutionize the locking process for a diverse consumer base that has been underserved with quality locking solutions.  Every product that we create and catalogue have been tested and applied to essentially every type of hair and with Loc Em Up Products we are confident that the locking journey will never be the same.  NATURAL & LOCKED Taking care of your locs shouldn't be a hassle. Our residue-free loc hair include natural ingredients so your locs get the best care possible. Fast LockingSecret Formula Tel: 404-957-3866 | Email: info@locemup.com VisionWebsite: https://www.locemup.com/ Show published by: Terrance Hutchinson, Certified Health and Wellness Consultant Www.Yourbestlifestyles.com --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/yourbestlifestyles/message

Six months after the Supreme Court released its decision on Dobbs, the health law landscape remains as complex as ever. In this follow up to their August 2022 podcast, Delphine O'Rourke, Partner, Goodwin Procter LLP, and Melissa Scott, Managing Director, The Claro Group, discuss how the health care system continues to evolve and some of the significant legal and policy issues at play. They discuss state legal and policy developments, enforcement activity, reproductive health, reproductive apps and privacy, innovations in contraception, and impacts on underserved communities and women's health. Sponsored by The Claro Group - A Stout Business.Listen to all of the episodes in AHLA's "After Dobbs" series here.To learn more about AHLA and the educational resources available to the health law community, visit americanhealthlaw.org.

The health law landscape after Dobbs is complex at best. Melissa Scott, Managing Director, The Claro Group, LLC, speaks with Delphine O'Rourke, Partner, Goodwin Procter LLP, about the risks and unknowns for hospitals and employers as they re-examine how to deliver reproductive care and medicine to patients and employees. They discuss the expected and unexpected impacts on the health care industry, how health care providers and other stakeholders can manage risk, considerations surrounding contraceptives, and potential conflicts between EMTALA and state abortion laws. Sponsored by The Claro Group.

In this episode I'm featuring another great local nonprofit that's working hard at supporting families that are fighting childhood cancer. Melissa Scott is the Managing Director at Cool Kids Clubhouse in Huntersville, and she joins us to share the story behind Cool Kids Clubhouse. Their mission is devoted to improving the quality of life for pediatric oncology patients, survivors, and their families by focusing on the academic, social, and emotional needs brought on by a cancer diagnosis.Also joining us is Liz Mills. Liz helped me connect with Melissa and Cool Kids Clubhouse and she has been working in support of Cool Kids Clubhouse for several years. Liz also shares the story of how she was inspired to go to work supporting families coping with a childhood cancer diagnosis. Cool Kids Clubhouse9601 Holly Point DriveSuite 102Huntersville, NC 28078(704) 997-5701Shoutouts to these local businesses and organizations:EAA Chapter 309 (Charlotte)Lake Norman Chrysler Dodge Jeep RAMThe JEM ProjectMetrolina GreenhousesNovant HealthDiamonds DirectWhit's Frozen CustardButtermilk Sky Pie Shop - Birkdale VillageHirschfeld Marketing SolutionsD9 Brewing Company - Lake NormanSign up for The Best of LKN Email Newsletter HERE!Advertise with The Best of LKN! Click HERE to learn more!Special thanks to our sponsors:Sodoma Law NorthBlumengärten FloristClean Eatz Cafes - Lake NormanJuelerye Fine Gifts & ArtRefresh Medical SpaEleven Lakes Brewing Co.SoundVisionJohn Hassell - Farm Bureau InsuranceHoffman Lending TeamThe Sarver Group - Keller Williams RealtyLKN ImagesSupport the show

El debate más sorprendente entre líderes de las dos grandes potencias de la Guerra Fría se dio en una cocina. O en una cocina ficticia, para ser más exactos. Kruschev contra Nixon. Comunismo contra capitalismo. Dos visiones irreconciliables hasta que aparece un vasito de Pepsi. * Este episodio tuvo como fuentes principales los libros Kitchen, de Banana Yoshimoto; El fin del Homo Sovieticus, de Svetlana Aleksiévich, La importancia del tenedor, de Bee Wilson, Gastro Obscura: A Food Adventurer's Guide, de Cecily Wong y Dylan Thuras y El banquete de los dictadores, de Melissa Scott y Victoria Clark; además del artículo El sueño de la cocina propia, de Juan Forn. En el sitio de la BBC se puede encontrar la transcripción del debate entre Kruschev y Nixon. Por los vínculos entre Kendall, Nixon y el Golpe de Estado en Chile recomiendo el trabajo de Peter Kornbluh para el Centro de Investigación Periodística (Ciper), también disponible en línea. * Nefeli Forni Zervoudaki leyó el texto de Banana Yoshimoto y Cecilia Bonino el de Svetlana Aleksiévich. La voz que narra el ataque al Palacio de la Moneda es del periodista Jaime Vargas. La música original es de Maximiliano Martínez y el diseño de la portada es de Pablo Corrado. Se utilizaron temas libres de derecho como cortina; gracias a Chris Haugen y Dan Lebowitz, estén donde estén. * Gastropolítica es una serie escrita y narrada por Maxi Guerra para Funga, ecosistema de contenidos.

We don't find God; He chose us form among those He didn't choose before the world was formed. The purpose of the choice is that we could be holy and without blame when we finally come before Him in love. Becoming holy and blameless before Him is not a change we make in ourselves. He makes that change in us for our faith. VF-2204 Ephesians 1:4 Watch, Listen and Learn 24x7 at PastorMelissaScott.com Pastor Melissa Scott teaches from Faith Center in Glendale. Call 1-800-338-3030 24x7 to leave a message for Pastor Scott. You may make reservations to attend a live service, leave a prayer request or make a commitment. Pastor Scott appreciates messages and reads them often during live broadcasts. Follow @Pastor_Scott on Twitter and visit her official Facebook page @Pastor.M.Scott. Download Pastor Scott's "Understand the Bible" app for iPhone, iPad and iPod at the Apple App Store and for Android devices in the Google Store. Pastor Scott can also be seen 24x7 on Roku and Amazon Fire on the "Understand the Bible?" channel. ©2022 Pastor Melissa Scott, Ph.D. All Rights Reserved

Sunday, March 6, 2022. Today's message is entitled Gospel Fluency and was delivered on Sunday, March 6, 2022 by Nick Scott, an Evansville, Indiana-based missionary to Japan through the Internationl Missions Board. For more information about Nick and Melissa Scott's ministry in Japan, visit www.TheScottsInJapan.com. To hear Nick's message, visit www.StJoeCommunityChurch.org, click on the Sermons tab, and find today's broadcast.

God demonstrates his ways with man through the lesson of the manna.  The children of Israel were fed manna from heaven for 40 years and the people of Nehemiah's day remembered God's provision in their prayer.  We have the fulfillment of the Bread of life in Jesus Christ who provides food for our souls.  VF-2005 Nehemiah 9:9-15 Exodus 16 Watch, Listen and Learn 24x7 at PastorMelissaScott.com Pastor Melissa Scott teaches from Faith Center in Glendale. Call 1-800-338-3030 24x7 to leave a message for Pastor Scott. You may make reservations to attend a live service, leave a prayer request or make a commitment. Pastor Scott appreciates messages and reads them often during live broadcasts. Follow @Pastor_Scott on Twitter and visit her official Facebook page @Pastor.M.Scott. Download Pastor Scott's "Understand the Bible" app for iPhone, iPad and iPod at the Apple App Store and for Android devices in the Google Store. Pastor Scott can also be seen 24x7 on Roku and Amazon Fire on the "Understand the Bible?" channel. ©2022 Pastor Melissa Scott Ph.D. All Rights Resrved

This episode we're talking about our Favourite Reads of 2021! We discuss our favourite fiction and non-fiction reads for the podcast (and not for the podcast) as well as other things that helped us get through the year! You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Google Podcasts, Spotify, or your favourite podcast delivery system. In this episode Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray | RJ Edwards Bookshop.org list of (most) our our top titles https://bookshop.org/lists/favourite-reads-of-2021  Favourite Fiction For the podcast Matthew Dreamships by Melissa Scott (1992) Episode 131 - Cyberpunk Anna Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado (2017)  Episode 123 Psychological Horror  Tied with Episode 134 - Piranesi by Susanna Clarke Meghan Trouble and Her Friends by Melissa Scott (1995)  Episode 131 - Cyberpunk RJ The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino, translated by Alexander O. Smith (Japanese 2005, translated 2011)  Episode 127 - Crime Fiction (But it's really Piranesi by Susanna Clarke) Not for the podcast Anna Minimum Wage Magic by Rachel Aaron (2018) Meghan Winter Tide by Ruthanna Emrys  (2017) RJ To Be Taught if Fortunate by Becky Chambers (2019) Episode 124 - Media (and Noodles) We've Recently Enjoyed Matthew Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (2019) Favourite Non-Fiction For the podcast Meghan The Secret Life of Groceries: The Dark Miracle of the American Supermarket by Benjamin Lorr (2020) Episode 117 - Sociology Non-Fiction RJ The Language of the Night: Essays on Fantasy and Science Fiction by Ursula K. Le Guin (1992; originally 1979) Episode 125 - Literary Theory & Literary Criticism Matthew Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City by Matthew Desmond (2016) Episode 117 - Sociology Non-Fiction Anna All the Rage: Mothers, Fathers and the Myth of Equal Partnership by Darcy Lockman (2019) Episode 117 - Sociology Non-Fiction Not for the podcast RJ Napkin by Carta Monir (2019) Episode 132 - Recent Media We've Enjoyed Matthew 19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei by Eliot Weinberger (2016; originally 1987) Episode 132 - Recent Media We've Enjoyed Anna Having and Being Had by Eula Biss (2020) (except I feel guilty that this is the same author as last year's non-fic fav so I could also do Lower Ed: The Troubling Rise of For-Profit Colleges in the New Economy by Tressie McMillan Cottom) Meghan Three Squares: The Invention of the American Meal by Abigail Carroll (2013) Other Favourites Things of 2021 Anna Maintenance Phase & You're Wrong About (podcasts) RJ Unpacking (game) Matthew Barge Chilling Beach The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen (2020) Meghan wandrer.earth Sacré dépanneur! by Judith Lussier (2010) Runner-Ups Matthew Books Typeset in the Future: Typography and Design in Science Fiction Movies by Dave Addey Episode 129 - Non-Fiction Film & TV Books The Skin We're In: A Year of Black Resistance and Power by Desmond Cole Comics (Twitter thread with more info on each title) Nicola Traveling Around the Demons' World by Asaya Miyanaga (4 volumes, complete) Episode 124 - Media (and Noodles) We've Recently Enjoyed The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, A Rún by Nagabe, translated by Adrienne Beck (11 volumes, complete) Witch  Hat Atelier by Kamome Shirahama, translated by Stephen Kohler (8 volumes, ongoing) Episode 132 - Recent Media We've Enjoyed Spy x Family by Tatsuya Endo, translated by Casey Loe (6 volumes, ongoing) Episode 132 - Recent Media We've Enjoyed What Is Obscenity? The Story of A Good For Nothing Girl and Her Pussy by Rokudenashiko The Nib edited by Matt Bors Website Pulp and Reckless by Ed Brubaker, Sean Phillips, and Jacob Phillips  Super Fun Sexy Times by Meredith McClaren This is How I Disappear by Mirion Malle Scary manga: Kasane by Daruma Matsuura (14 volumes, complete) Sensor by Junji Ito (1 volume, complete) PTSD Radio by  Masaaki Nakayama (6 volumes, complete) Blood on the Tracks by Shūzō Oshimi (7 volumes, ongoing) Anna The Art of Cruelty by Maggie Nelson What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat by Aubrey Gordon Go Ahead in the Rain: Notes to A Tribe Called Quest by Hanif Abdurraqib Can't Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation by Anne Helen Petersen How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy by Jenny Odell Meghan Fiction The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones (horror) The Story of My Teeth by Valeria Luiselli (literary fiction) No One Is Talking About This by Patricia Lockwood (literary fiction) Rabbits by Terry Miles (techno thriller) Non-fiction Bikes and Bloomers: Victorian Women Inventors and their Extraordinary Cycle Wear by Kat Jungnickel The Cold Vanish: Seeking the Missing in North America's Wildlands by Jon Billman  Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of '70s and '80s Horror Fiction by Grady Hendrix  RJ Picture books!!! Ping by Ani Castillo Poojo's Got Wheels by Charrow Two Many Birds by Cindy Derby This Is Ruby by Sara O'Leary & Alea Marley Animals Brag About Their Bottoms by Maki Saito, translated by Brian Bergstrom Your Name Is a Song by Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow & Luisa Uribe Someone Builds the Dream by Lisa Wheeler & Loren Long Comics Beetle and the Hollowbones by Aliza Layne The Magic Fish by Trung Le Nguyen Stargazing by Jen Wang Grease Bats by Archie Bongiovanni TV/Video Taskmaster Only Connect Puzzgrid: Only Connect wall-style puzzles Dimension 20 Mice & Murder Misfits & Magic Games Voyagers: A LARP Duet (PDF link) Other Media We Mentioned Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson Neuromancer by William Gibson On Immunity: An Inoculation by Eula Biss Red Spider White Web by Misha Nogha You Are Good (podcast) Animal Crossing: New Horizons (Wikipedia) Links, Articles, and Things Hark! Episode 300: Good to Better, Bad to Worse Secret Stacks Episode 65 Episode 116 - Best Books We Read in 2020 Episode 113 - Seeking Book Recommendations Episode 114 - Hot Cocoa & Book Recommendations Dude Chilling Park (Wikipedia) 20 Philosophy books by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) Authors Every month Book Club for Masochists: A Readers' Advisory Podcasts chooses a genre at random and we read and discuss books from that genre. We also put together book lists for each episode/genre that feature works by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) authors to help our listeners diversify their readers' advisory. All of the lists can be found here. The Promise of Happiness by Sarah Ahmed Tsawalk: A Nuu-chah-nulth Worldview by Umeek / E Richard Atleo The Location of Culture by Homi K. Bhabha Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds by Adrienne Maree Brown Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Y. Davis The Wretched of the Earth by Frantz Fanon Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire Feminist Theory: From Margin to Center by bell hooks The God Equation: The Quest for a Theory of Everything by Michio Kaku Sister Outsider: Essays and Speeches by Audre Lorde Memory Serves: Oratories by Lee Maracle Cruising Utopia: The Then and There of Queer Futurity by José Esteban Muñoz Everyday Ubuntu: Living Better Together, the African Way by Mungi Ngomane Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature by Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o Mexican Philosophy in the 20th Century: Essential Readings edited by Carlos Alberto Sánchez & Robert Eli Sanchez Jr. As We Have Always Done: Indigenous Freedom through Radical Resistance by  Leanne Betasamosake Simpson Black on Both Sides: A Racial History of Trans Identity by C. Riley Snorton Mathematics for Human Flourishing by Francis Su Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind: Informal Talks on Zen Meditation and Practice by Shunryu Suzuki Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World by Tyson Yunkaporta Give us feedback! Fill out the form to ask for a recommendation or suggest a genre or title for us to read! Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Twitter or Instagram, join our Facebook Group, or send us an email! Join us again on Tuesday,  January 4th we'll be discussing the genre of Architecture! Then on Tuesday,  January 18th we'll be talking about how (and why) 2022 is the Year of Book 2!

Melissa Scott is the Managing Director of the Charlotte North Carolina branch of the Pediatric Cancer non profit COOL KIDS CAMPAIGN. Melissa will talk about the many different programs it offers to these kids and their families, and will also discuss the contributions from former great athletes and current Board Members Ken Singleton and Dan Jansen, as well as the contribution from all time Olympic star Mike Eruzione.

Trigger Warning: Sexual Violence   In this week's episode, Scott is shocked to learn that Peter is the Alpha, but he's even more shocked when Peter asks Melissa—Scott's flawless mother and seemingly the only medical professional in Beacon Hills—out on a date. Argent believes Jackson is a werewolf and stages an encounter to reveal his (potential) lycanthropic secret. And thanks to Kate, Allison begins to discover some of her family's dark secrets. Then, we sat down for an amazing talk with Melissa Ponzio, who played Scott's perfect mom.    If you'd like to support the show, you can find us on Patreon at RTBH Podcast. There, our Wolfy Patrons will gain access to awesome exclusives, like early access to episodes, full-moon AMAs, the Beacon Hills Movie Club, where we watch and provide commentary for movies starring the amazing cast of Teen Wolf and featuring the work of our talented crew, as well as guest video interviews and a monthly watch party. So head on over to Patreon.com/rtbhpodcast and join the pack!    In next week's episode, Scott is determined to go to the school dance, no matter the cost. And we have a great conversation with Angela Harvey, Teen Wolf writer, and Matt McDonough, former Director of Online Engagement at MTV.    Follow Will (@willwritesgood) on Twitter and Instagram and Kalissa on Twitter (@kaliforniadawn) and Instagram (@insipidramblings).   TIME CODES:   Beta Section: 05:13 Alpha Section: 1:09:24

On today's Bible Answer Man broadcast (08/10/21), Hank answers the following questions:Where does the Bible say we should prepare for doomsday?In light of what's going on in our culture, what do you think will happen to Christianity?If Adam and Eve only had two sons, how did they procreate?Can you tell me how the Greek word “aion” relates to Sheol and Gehenna?What is your opinion of Gene and Melissa Scott's teaching?Is it possible for a Christian to be a homosexual?Different denominations have different views on speaking in tongues; what is the correct understanding of this?

What should the church do to better support missions work? And how did one couple decide to become missionaries to Japan? Pastor Bobby talks to our good friends, Nick and Melissa Scott, about their journey toward the missions field. Don't miss the simple exhortation from Pastor Bobby at the end about how NorthWoods should approach the preaching of the word! 

For more than seventeen years, publisher Fandemonium has been releasing Stargate novels to a ravenous fan community. Their bookshelf now extends to more than 50 books. Earlier this year, Dial the Gate sat down with Co-Founder Sally Malcolm to discuss this epic undertaking. Now she is back, bringing several of her fellow novelists. For this panel discussion Sally is joined by writers Jo Graham, Amy Griswold, Laura Harper, Melissa Scott and Susannah Sinard to discuss their works set in the Stargate universe. After the panel, visit the link below for the Stargate Novels Web site and explore their offerings! --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

Season One of Beyond the Defense Podcast drops June 4!  Take a moment to listen to what co-hosts Melissa Scott and Heidi Fischer think about the podcast.

I'm so excited to share this week's Soul Sesh journey with you!!  In this episode, I'm joined with my dear friend Melissa Scott as we share stories, experiences, and perspectives about our favorite plant medicine.  Melissa and I also explore: Cannabis as an embodiment of divine feminine energy Cannabis as a tool to feel good in your body & regulating your nervous system The healing medicine of ganja yoga Creating intentional cannabis rituals Moving through cannabis shame & liberalizing the plant Cannabis conversations with children I hope this episode and our stories empower you to own your cannabis love & story even deeper!!  Connect with Aaliyah on Instagram Connect with Melissa on Instagram Melissa's website  

This podcast was recorded as a video for the CLI-ALPMA Innovation and Legaltech Week 2021 On Demand program published on 1 February 2021. In this podcast, Terri Mottershead, Executive Director, Centre for Legal Innovation (Australia, New Zealand and Asia-Pacific), facilitated a discussion with Schellie-Jayne (SJ) Price, Lead Lawyer, Gorgon and Wheatstone Operations, Chevron Australia Pty Ltd; Melissa Scott, Senior Legal Counsel (Global), Megaport; and Colin Levy, Legal Counsel, Lookout on the changing role of in-house counsel and its impact on reshaping legal practice. If you would prefer to watch rather than listen, the podcast is also available as a video in the CLI-Collaborate (CLIC) Free Resource Hub

Melissa Scott (she/her/hers) serves as the Assistant Dean of Students at Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk, Virginia. She has worked extensively in student conduct roles at various institutions including Christopher Newport University, Kean University, and East Carolina University. Learn more about Melissa on her LinkedIn profile.

Erin welcomes Melissa Fitzgerald (who played Carol Fitzpatrick on The West Wing) & Scott Tirocchi to talk about Justice For Vets which is an organization that is dedicated to transforming the way the justice system identifies, assesses and treats our veterans. On this episode Melissa & Scott talk about their personal journey to getting involved with the organization and also describe the Veterans Treatment Court which is a court system better suited to deal with the issues that returning vets experience. Check out the organization: Justiceforvets.org Allrise.org Twitter: @justice4vets @_allrise_ Veteran's Treatment Court Explained: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PrpytvX3YSE&feature=emb_logo

Book Appreciation with Catherine Lundoff The Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast - Episode 15 with Heather Rose Jones In the Book Appreciation segments, our featured authors (or your host) will talk about one or more favorite books with queer female characters in a historic setting. In this episode Catherine Lundoff recommends some favorite queer historical novels: Tomoe Gozen by Jessica Amanda Salmonson Slammerkin by Emma Donoghue Kissing the Witch (collection) by Emma Donoghue Affinity by Sarah Waters Fingersmith by Sarah Waters Also a nod to The Armor of Light by Melissa Scott and Lisa Barnett (queer authors, but queer male protagonists) A transcript of this podcast may be available here. (Transcripts added when available.) Links to the Lesbian Historic Motif Project Online Website: http://alpennia.com/lhmp Blog: http://alpennia.com/blog RSS: http://alpennia.com/blog/feed/ Twitter: @LesbianMotif Discord: Contact Heather for an invitation to the Alpennia/LHMP Discord server The Lesbian Historic Motif Project Patreon Links to Heather Online Website: http://alpennia.com Email: Heather Rose Jones Twitter: @heatherosejones Facebook: Heather Rose Jones (author page) Links to Catherine Lundoff Online Website: Queen of Swords Press, Catherine's newsletter, and the History of LGBTQ Speculative Fiction column “Out of the Past” Twitter: @clundoff Twitter - Queen of Swords Press: @qospress Twitter - Emily L. Byrne (pen name for erotica): @emilylbyrne Facebook: Catherine Lundoff Facebook: Queen of Swords Press Facebook: Emily L. Byrne

For many legal professionals, perfectionism can be a debilitating trait that has flow-on consequences not only for one's personal life, but their professional capacity to serve their clients. In this episode of The Corporate Counsel Show, Megaport senior legal counsel Melissa Scott talks to host Jerome Doraisamy about her experiences with and observations of perfectionism in law, how the age of coronavirus has presented new challenges for managing such perfectionist traits, and how she learned to overcome those traits. Moreover, the pair discuss how best senior lawyers and team leaders can assist junior practitioners during a period in which legal teams are working remotely and why constant vigilance is necessary to stave off demons of perfectionism. If you like this episode, show your support by rating us or leaving a review on Apple Podcasts (The Lawyers Weekly Show) and by following Lawyers Weekly on social media: Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn. If you have any questions about what you heard today, any topics of interest you have in mind, or if you'd like to lend your voice to the show, email editor@lawyersweekly.com.au for more insights!

Introducing our children to new places, cultures, ideas, and food is an important piece of their real-world education. Visiting these new places in person is always amazing but sometimes we can also explore right from the comfort of our own homes. Melissa Scott from @scottfamilytravels joins Lisa to share practical ideas on how to learn about places around the world while at home. Get ready to discover inspiration about how to use music, language, games, maps, food, crafts, and dance to open the world up for our kids.

This Week Nurse Melissa Scott  Explains why she quit her job & racism in Georgia & Ahmaud Arbery + More     --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/iv-the-culture-podcast/message

Ross and Carrie go through their own back catalogue and offer some updates on the investigations of yore. How’s Melissa Scott doing these days? Does Ross need new eczema treatment suggestions? What BREAKING NEWS from the urine therapy movement were Ross and Carrie offered as an EXCLUSIVE? Where the frick is that frickin’ SD card? Has Harold Klemp visited Carrie in her sleep yet? Has Kimberly Meredith sent along that nursing license yet? How is Nathan, owner of the haunted house, doing? Plus, some stuff they got wrong! For pics and videos, follow us on Facebook or Twitter!You can add our RSS feed here.

This week we discuss the Richmond Spree Murders. Ricky Gray and Ray Dandridge, an uncle and his nephew, who went on a killing spree, beginning in December of 2005 and ending in January 2006. Thanks for listening! This is a weekly podcast and new episodes drop every Thursday, so until next time... look alive guys, it's crazy out there! Where to find us: Our Facebook page is Fruitloopspod and our discussion group is Fruitloopspod Discussion on Facebook; https://www.facebook.com/groups/fruitloopspod/ We are also on Twitter and Instagram @fruitloopspod Please send any questions or comments to fruitloopspod@gmail.com or leave us a voicemail at 602-935-6294.  We just might read your email or play your voicemail on the show! Want to Support the show? You can support the show by rating and reviewing Fruitloops on iTunes, or anywhere else that you get your podcasts from.  We would love it if you gave us 5 stars! You can make a donation on the Cash App https://cash.me/$fruitloopspod Or become a monthly Patron through our Podbean Patron page https://patron.podbean.com/fruitloopspod Articles/Websites Wikipedia contributors. (2020, March 25). 2006 Richmond spree murders. Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 05/03/2020 from https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=2006_Richmond_spree_murders&oldid=947223487 Harki, Gary A.; Kimberlin, Joanne. (01/14/2017). A man set for execution, and the unforgotten murders that could have happened to anyone. The Virginia Pilot. Retrieved 05/03/2020 from https://www.pilotonline.com/news/crime/article_c400be9c-80dc-515c-847c-9e803cc9f073.html Mitchell, Liz. (09/12/2007). New details emerge in '05 murder. The Daily Progress. Retrieved 05/05/2020 from https://www.dailyprogress.com/archives/new-details-emerge-in-murder/article_d5898d94-60e2-556f-bcbe-5379070128f9.html Ayad, Moustafa. (01/12/2006). Suspects in Va. killings face arrest in Washington County case. Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Retrieved 05/06/2020 from https://old.post-gazette.com/pg/06012/636597.stm Stockwell, Jamie; Morello, Carol. (01/12/2006). Pair Admit N.Va. Stabbing. The Washington Post. Retrieved 05/06/2020 from https://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/01/11/AR2006011102191.html Huff, Steve. (n.d.). Tucker/Baskerville Family Murders. True Crime Library [Archived: Wayback Machine]. Retrieved 05/06/2020 from https://web.archive.org/web/20080207124434/http://www.crimelibrary.com/news/original/0106/1301_Tucker_Baskerville_Family_Murders1.html Associated Press. (09/19/2006). Man admits to gruesome slayings of Va. family. NBC News. Retrieved 05/07/2020 from http://www.nbcnews.com/id/14912731/ns/us_news-crime_and_courts/t/man-admits-gruesome-slayings-va-family/#.XrP9np5KgkI Sinclair, Melissa Scott. (10/20/2010). The Visitors. Style Weekly. Retrieved 05/07/2020 from https://www.styleweekly.com/richmond/the-visitors/Content?oid=1381013 Nolan, Jim; Ress, David. (01/16/2006). Seven days in January / Two suspects. Two families. One tragic week in Richmond. Richmond Times-Dispatch. Retrieved 05/07/2020 from https://www.richmond.com/news/local/seven-days-in-january-two-suspects-two-families-one-tragic/article_d3db328e-5bca-11e5-a17e-cb369c474575.html WTVR Staff. (01/12/2017). Ricky Gray apologizes for Harvey murders as groups urge clemency. WTVR. Retrieved 05/09/2020 from https://localtvwtvr.wordpress.com/2017/01/12/ricky-gray-apologizes-for-harvey-murders-as-groups-urge-clemency/ Champion, Allison Brophy. (12/17/2012). 'Tremendous breakthrough' in Warner murder. The Daily Progress. Retrieved 05/09/2020 from https://www.dailyprogress.com/archives/tremendous-breakthrough-in-warner-murder/article_20584112-487b-11e2-a713-001a4bcf6878.html Freeman, Vernon; Web Staff; Burkett, Jon. (01/19/2017). Ricky Gray executed by lethal injection for Harvey family killings. WTVR. Retrieved 05/09/2020 from https://wtvr.com/2017/01/18/ricky-gray-executed-by-lethal-injection-for-harvey-family-killings/ Green, Frank. (01/11/2017). Ricky Gray apologizes; more than 50 mental health experts urge clemency. Richmond Times-Dispatch. Retrieved 05/09/2020 from https://www.richmond.com/news/ricky-gray-apologizes-more-than-50-mental-health-experts-urge-clemency/article_8c5bf9e3-a284-5607-926b-f90df65c43e4.html Books Johnson, Larry. (04/18/2014). Cold Blooded: The New Year's Day Massacre. Against All Oddz Publications. https://www.amazon.com/Cold-Blooded-New-Years-Massacre/dp/1537442481/ Podcasts Brittney and Justine (hosts). (01/03/2018). It’s about Damn Crime. Ep. 46- 2006 Richmond Spree Murders [Audio podcast]. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from https://www.spreaker.com/user/10958507/ep-46-2006-richmond-spree-murders Sara, Erik & Mary (hosts). (01/02/2018). Murder, Myth & Mystery. Episode #37 [Audio podcast]. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from https://mmmpodcast.podbean.com/e/episode-37-1515423183/ History Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. (n.d.) Richmond, VA. Encyclopaedia Britannica. Retrieved 05/08/2020 from https://www.britannica.com/place/Richmond-Virginia Williams, Michael Paul. (02/21/2016). Unsung sites of black history in the Richmond area. Richmond Times-Dispatch. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from https://www.richmond.com/discover-richmond/unsung-sites-of-black-history-in-the-richmond-area/article_ca1d1a37-8fab-522b-8305-8420bfe368d9.html Morley, P. Kevin. (10/16/2016). Getting to know: Richmond Slave Trail. Richmond Times-Dispatch. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from https://www.richmond.com/discover-richmond/getting-to-know-richmond-slave-trail/article_3386ad02-b74d-5d25-8490-88b6d61f23b3.html Richmondgov.com. (n.d.). Richmond Slave Trail Commission Brochure. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from http://www.richmondgov.com/CommissionSlaveTrail/documents/brochureRichmondCityCouncilSlaveTrailCommission.pdf Walls, Bryan. (n.d.). Henry “Box” Brown. PBS. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from https://www.pbs.org/black-culture/shows/list/underground-railroad/stories-freedom/henry-box-brown/ US History. (n.d.). 20f. Gabriel's Rebellion: Another View of Virginia in 1800. Retrieved 05/10/2020 from https://www.ushistory.org/us/20f.asp Zuccino, David. (12/18/08). With unearthing of infamous jail, Richmond confronts its slave past. Los Angeles Times. Retrieved 05/11/2020 from https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2008-dec-18-na-richmond-slaves18-story.html Shout Outs Murder House Fliphttps://quibi.com/shows/murder-house-flip-592/ Ad Crime in Colorhttps://www.crimeincolorpod.com/ Music "Abyss" by Alasen: ●https://soundcloud.com/alasen●https://twitter.com/icemantrap ●https://instagram.com/icemanbass/●https://soundcloud.com/therealfrozenguy●Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License "Jeopardy" by Yung Kartz https://freemusicarchive.org/music/Yung_KartzLicensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License "A Saint" by Saibysed https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCoyDwrTWfhlv_yBm84WXXBgLicensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License "Furious Freak" by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 Licensehttps://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Connect with us on: Twitter @FruitLoopsPod Instagram https://www.instagram.com/fruitloopspod Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Fruitloopspod and https://www.facebook.com/groups/fruitloopspod

Art Wright talks with Melissa Scott, Alice Cates Clark, and David Haun about youth ministry in CBF Virginia churches during the age of the pandemic, isolation, and social distancing. Their conversation includes a discussion of the challenges facing youth and students right now, the grounding theological principles and goals of ministry with youth, creative brainstorming for youth ministry right now, and some best practices for navigating privacy and safety issues online. Melissa Scott is Associate Pastor at Colonial Avenue Baptist Church, Roanoke, VA. Alice Cates Clark is Associate Pastor of Youth & Community Engagement at Derbyshire Baptist Church in Richmond, VA. David Haun is Minister with Youth and College Students at Fredericksburg Baptist Church in Fredericksburg, VA. Art Wright is the Theologian in Residence for the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship of Virginia.

Glenn van Zutphen is joined by Melissa Scott, Founder, Head Designer, MODEFYwear in Los Angeles, as they talk about how MODEFYwear re-tooled their production line and is donating tens of thousands of PPE surgical gowns and masks to healthcare workers across the US.

KGI is proud to offer: Wellness Wednesdays every Wednesday, Wellness Workshop every Monday, and Meditation Sundays every Sunday! These are times for KGI students, faculty, and staff to slow down from our busy, fast-paced lives and tune into ourselves! To learn more, visit https://kgi.edu/wellness.

A great conversation with Melissa Scott about fear & how our brains process it. She gives us a glimpse into what started this journey. Fear had plagued her life to the point that she needed to make some life changes. She dug into why her brain processed fear the way it did. This led her on a journey through how our body works and ultimately to the word of God. The Bible has much to say about fear! When she began to marry the two, it was amazing what unfolded. What a passion that comes from her heart!

Jenny uses part of her Fall Break to record a bonus episode that has some end of the year stuff but is almost all the third part of her 2019 TBR Explode Project. Jenny mocks herself for thinking she'd ever want to read philosophy, and tries to use less harsh language to talk about an author she doesn't care for. Download or listen via this link: Reading Envy 168: TBR Explode 3.Subscribe to the podcast via this link: FeedburnerOr subscribe via Apple Podcasts by clicking: SubscribeOr listen through TuneIn Or listen on Google PlayListen via StitcherListen through Spotify Link to Best of 2019 contribution form Books Discussed:JulyThe Jung Cult by Richard Noll Eros and the Mysteries of Love: The Metaphysics of Sex by Julius Evola Wonder Boys by Michael ChabonYou Are Not a Stranger Here by Adam Haslett Beatrice and Virgil by Yann Martel American Genius: A Comedy by Lynne TillmanThe Master by Colm Toibin The Infinities by John Banville Mortals by Norman Rush Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie AugustThe Statement by Brian MooreThe Animal-Lover's Book of Beastly Murder by Patricia Highsmith Islandia by Austin Tappan WrightThe Accordionist's Son by Bernardo AtxagaPerfecting Sound Forever: An Aural History of Recorded Music by Greg Milner Divine Music by Suruchi MohanEverything Ravaged, Everything Burned by Wells TowerThe Executioner's Song by Norman MailerConcrete Island by J.G. BallardThe Worst Hard Time: The Untold Story of Those Who Survived the Great American Dust Bowl by Egan, TimothySeptember The Onion Field by Joseph Wambaugh Family Pictures by Sue Miller The Three Weissmanns of Westport by Cathleen SchineFlatterland by Ian Stewart The Wind in the Woods by Rose Senehi Vurt by Jeff Noon Night Sky Mine by Melissa Scott Miles from Nowhere by Nami Mun Come to Me by Amy Bloom (September) Princess Noire by Nadine CohodasOther MentionsImagine Me Gone by Adam Haslett   Related Episodes:Episode 149 - TBR Explode!Episode 158 - TBR Explode 2Stalk me online:Jenny at GoodreadsJenny on TwitterJenny is @readingenvy on Instagram and Litsy  

Melissa Scott, Senior Managing Director with GlassRatner's health care industry group, speaks to Precious Gittens, Fresenius Medical Care North America, and Susan Gillin, Chief of the Administrative and Civil Remedies Branch at HHS OIG's Office of Counsel, about their presentation at AHLA's 2019 Annual Meeting in Boston looking at recent fraud and abuse trends. Sponsored by GlassRatner.

Melissa Scott, Senior Managing Director with GlassRatner's health care industry group, speaks to Jennifer Willcox, Vice President of Legal Services, Yale New Haven Health System, and Rebecca Matthews, Wiggin and Dana LLP, about their presentation at AHLA's 2019 Annual Meeting in Boston regarding innovative collaborations between hospitals and health centers. Sponsored by GlassRatner.

Melissa Scott, Senior Managing Director with GlassRatner's health care industry group, speaks to Julie Kass, Baker Donelson Bearman Caldwell & Berkowitz PC, and David Matyas, Epstein Becker & Green PC, about their presentation at AHLA's 2019 Annual Meeting in Boston discussing the forthcoming Stark reforms and other Stark-related issues. Sponsored by GlassRatner.

Your gonna tap into your own personal reason to be courageous today. Melissa Scott has had a tumultuous life. From horrific sexual abuse as a child to a cycle of repeated abuse in relationships, Melissa hit rock bottom, seeking more for her life. Even though she was able to see healthy relationships and witness to God’s power around her, Melissa felt very much on the outside of the ability to achieve an actual and real relationship with Jesus. You’ll be encouraged to hear how she found healing moments through true forgiveness, therapy, and crying out to Jesus in her car.    Please hang on toward the end of our conversation to receive the ultimate lesson you can gain from Melissa when we talk about grace and how Melissa gained supernatural freedom in her life from her hurts and her continued hurt because of the gift of Grace that God has given her and gifted her!    And we talk about two of Melissa’s passions, her role as a mom and the love she has for transformation from negative thinking to a confident attitude.    If you value your role as a parent and what that means when it comes to supplying your children (and yourself!) with the ability to have a healthy, positive mindset, you’ll want to hear Melissa’s discovery of powerful, Biblically-based, scientifically proven mindset shift.    I’m excited to share this conversation to you and I hope if this is your first time listening, welcome! I know you’ll gain some hope and freedom from my time with Melissa today. And I encourage you to subscribe to the podcast. AND Thank you so much to my long-time friends for sticking it out with me for 74 episodes!  Don’t forget to tap on the stars in iTunes or Apple Podcasts to review the show. It’s a tremendous way to keep the show active and available. Thank you so much for your support.    You can follow Melissa Scott, and listen to her podcast, Hello Courageous and find more info about Melissa’s digital course, Your True Courage Method by going to her website.    I want to hear from you about today’s episode! How has it encouraged you? If we are friends on Instagram, shoot me a direct message and let me know how this conversation gave you hope, freedom, and something new to think about. You can find me on Instagram at Constantly Under Construction. I cannot wait to hear from you!

Laity Sunday - Melissa Scott by First Church Birmingham

Your gonna tap into your own personal reason to be courageous today. Melissa Scott has had a tumultuous life. From horrific sexual abuse as a child to a cycle of repeated abuse in relationships, Melissa hit rock bottom, seeking more for her life. Even though she was able to see healthy relationships and witness to God’s power around her, Melissa felt very much on the outside of the ability to achieve an actual and real relationship with Jesus. You’ll be encouraged to hear how she found healing moments through true forgiveness, therapy, and crying out to Jesus in her car.    Please hang on toward the end of our conversation to receive the ultimate lesson you can gain from Melissa when we talk about grace and how Melissa gained supernatural freedom in her life from her hurts and her continued hurt because of the gift of Grace that God has given her and gifted her!    And we talk about two of Melissa’s passions, her role as a mom and the love she has for transformation from negative thinking to a confident attitude.    If you value your role as a parent and what that means when it comes to supplying your children (and yourself!) with the ability to have a healthy, positive mindset, you’ll want to hear Melissa’s discovery of powerful, Biblically-based, scientifically proven mindset shift.    I’m excited to share this conversation to you and I hope if this is your first time listening, welcome! I know you’ll gain some hope and freedom from my time with Melissa today. And I encourage you to subscribe to the podcast. AND Thank you so much to my long-time friends for sticking it out with me for 74 episodes!  Don’t forget to tap on the stars in iTunes or Apple Podcasts to review the show. It’s a tremendous way to keep the show active and available. Thank you so much for your support.    You can follow Melissa Scott, and listen to her podcast, Hello Courageous and find more info about Melissa’s digital course, Your True Courage Method by going to her website.    I want to hear from you about today’s episode! How has it encouraged you? If we are friends on Instagram, shoot me a direct message and let me know how this conversation gave you hope, freedom, and something new to think about. You can find me on Instagram at Constantly Under Construction. I cannot wait to hear from you!

Podcast host, Melissa Scott, sits down with Mindy and Kegan to talk about the dynamics of mother and son doing ministry together.

Podcast host, Melissa Scott, sits down with Mindy and Kegan to talk about the dynamics of mother and son doing ministry together.

Ratcatcher by Amy Griswold       1918, over Portsmouth The souls in the trap writhed and keened their displeasure as Xavier picked up the shattergun. “Don’t fuss,” he scolded them as he turned on the weapon and adjusted his goggles, shifting the earpieces so that the souls’ racket penetrated less piercingly through the bones behind his ears. “It’s nothing to do with you.” The two airships were docked already, a woman airman unfastening safety ropes from the gangplank propped between them to allow Xavier to cross. The trap rocked with a vibration that owed nothing to the swaying airships, and Xavier lifted it and tucked it firmly under his arm. He felt the soul imprisoned in his own chest stir, a straining reaction that made him stop for a moment to catch his breath.     Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip episode 69 for April 4th, 2019. This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to share this story with you. Our story today is "Ratcatcher" by Amy Griswold.  Before we get to the story, GlitterShip has recently had some exciting news. Our second anthology, GlitterShip Year Two was listed as a Tiptree Award Honor Book for 2018. We're very happy that the Tiptree jury enjoyed the book, and owe a great debt to all the authors who have allowed us to publish their work. You can find out more about the Tiptree Award and check out the winner Gabriela Damian Miravete's story, "They Will Dream in the Garden" at tiptree.org. You can also pick up copies of the GlitterShip Year One and Year Two anthologies on gumroad at gumroad.com/keffy for $5 each. Just use the coupon code "tiptree," that's t-i-p-t-r-e-e. Amy Griswold is the author of the interactive novels The Eagle’s Heir and Stronghold (with Jo Graham), published by Choice of Games, as well as the gay fantasy/mystery novels Death by Silver and A Death at the Dionysus Club (with Melissa Scott). Her short fiction has been published in markets including F&SF and Fantastic Stories of the Imagination. Robin G has been an entertainment manager, entertainer/vocalist, theatrical producer and writer of several pantomimes including a UV version of Pinocchio that toured 20 theaters in the UK. He was first alerted to the supernatural in a strange dream sequence while in the Royal Air Force that placed him at a future event. The knowledge that a part of our brain exists in another reality has shown him many unusual incidents of the sixth sense. He writes both fiction and non-fiction which includes Jim Long — space agent, a series of stand-alone stories in 7 books, including one as a radio episodic creation, and the non-fiction book Magical theory of life—discusses our life, history, and its aftermath in non-religious spiritual terms.     Ratcatcher by Amy Griswold       1918, over Portsmouth The souls in the trap writhed and keened their displeasure as Xavier picked up the shattergun. “Don’t fuss,” he scolded them as he turned on the weapon and adjusted his goggles, shifting the earpieces so that the souls’ racket penetrated less piercingly through the bones behind his ears. “It’s nothing to do with you.” The two airships were docked already, a woman airman unfastening safety ropes from the gangplank propped between them to allow Xavier to cross. The trap rocked with a vibration that owed nothing to the swaying airships, and Xavier lifted it and tucked it firmly under his arm. He felt the soul imprisoned in his own chest stir, a straining reaction that made him stop for a moment to catch his breath. “If you’re ready, sir,” the airman said, and Xavier forced himself into motion. He nodded crisply and strode out onto the gangplank with the ease of long years spent aboard ships, his gloved hand just brushing the rail. He scrambled down from the other end and got out of the way of airmen rushing to disengage the gangplank and close the hatch before the two ships could batter at each other too dangerously in the rising wind. The Coriolanus’s captain strode toward him, and Xavier winced as he recognized a familiar face. He set the trap down, both to get it farther away from the casing that housed the soul in his chest, and to give himself a moment to banish all envy from his expression. He straightened with a smile. “Hedrick. I see you landed on your feet after that muddle over Calais.” “I’ve got a knee that tells me the weather now,” Hedrick said, scrubbing at his not-entirely-regulation stubble of ginger beard. “They told me you’d been grounded.” “I’m still attached to the extraction service,” Xavier said. “As a civilian now.” Hedrick’s eyes flickered to the odd lines of Xavier’s coat front, and then back up to his face without a change of expression. He’d always been good at keeping a straight face at cards. “We could use the help. We had a knock-down drag-out with the Huns a few weeks back—just shy of six weeks, I make it. Heavy casualties on both sides, and some of them damned reluctant to move on.” “Only six weeks? You hardly need me. Chances are they’ll still depart on their own.” “You haven’t seen the latest orders that came down, then. We’re supposed to call in the ratcatchers at the first sight of ghosts. Not acceptable on a well-run ship, don’t you know.” “You’re also meant to shave,” Xavier said. “It’s not like you to comply with every absurd directive that comes down the pike.” He couldn’t help reveling in the freedom to talk that way, one of the few rewards of his enforced change in career. “These are Colonel Morrow’s orders.” “Mmm.” That put a different face on it, or might. Morrow supervised the ratcatchers, civilian and military, and his technical brilliance had saved Xavier’s life when he lost his soul. That said, it was entirely in character for Morrow to go on a tear about efficiency without regard for how much work it made for anyone else. “Besides, there’s more to it,” Hedrick said as the Coriolanus drifted free of the Exeter. “We’ve been having damned bad luck of late. Pins slipping out of a gangplank just as one of the lads stepped on it—he just missed ending up a smear on the landscape. More engine malfunctions than you can name, and some of them dangerous. If the Coriolanus weren’t in such good repair to start with, she’d have burned twice over in the last month.” “You suspect sabotage.” “Some of the Jerries had their boots on our deck when they bit it. We tossed the bodies over the side, but still I’m not entirely easy in my mind.” “Next time, don’t,” Xavier said. “The soul’s more likely to stay in the corpse if it’s well treated. Ill handling breaks the ties faster.” He directed his gaze out the porthole window of the gondola rather than at Hedrick’s face. “You weren’t using shatterguns?” “We haven’t got them mounted. No budget for them in our grade, I hear. And just as well if you ask me. They give me the cold chills.” Hedrick glanced at the shattergun under Xavier’s arm. “A necessity in my profession,” he said. “Better you than me.” It was a backhanded enough kind of sympathy that Xavier didn’t cringe away from it. “Any particular area of the ship most affected?” “The crew quarters, I think—I’ve had men stirring up their whole deck with screaming nightmares, and not the usual nervous cases.” “At least it’s a place to start.” He followed Hedrick through the narrow corridors of the airship’s gondola to the cramped berthing area that housed the enlisted men. Only the night watch was there and sleeping, young men squeezed into claustrophobically low bunks, some with their knees tucked up to keep their feet from dangling off the end. A panel of canvas made a half-hearted divider screening the row of women’s bunks from the men’s view. Xavier set down his gear and stretched out on the nearest unoccupied bunk. “Leave me alone, now, and let me work.” “Funny kind of work,” Hedrick said, raising an eyebrow at his recumbent form. “‘They also serve who only stand and wait,’” Xavier said, and tried not to sound bitter. “Now get out.” He closed his eyes at the sound of Hedrick’s retreating footsteps and schooled his breathing into the steady rhythm that would send him swiftly into a doze. The soul in his chest shifted once, making him break his rhythmic breathing with a gasping cough, but he spread an entreating hand across its cage and it quieted. He knew he was dreaming when he saw Thomas walk into the room and sit down on the foot of the bed. For a moment the more rational part of his mind protested that it was impossible to sit down on the foot of an airship bunk, but his dreaming mind obligingly replaced the scene with a four-poster bed lit by streaming sunshine. Thomas’s hair was limned with gold, his eyes bright and laughing. “Haven’t you got work to do?” He was dressed in the uniform he died in, but as Xavier took his hand, it faded like smoke to reveal freckled skin. “I do,” Xavier said. “I’m most remiss.” He raised his chin unrepentantly, and Thomas grappled for him like a wrestler. He was aware of reality as soon as they touched, the sensation of Thomas’s soul writhing through Xavier’s body painfully erotic but nothing remotely like physical sex. He heard himself gasp, unsure whether he’d actually made a sound the sleeping airmen could hear, and realized how genuinely unwise this was. He pushed Thomas away, and the other man’s soul retreated, dissolving into curling smoke, and then retreated too far, tugging away in unstoppable reflex. It felt like someone was pulling a rib out of his chest. “Thomas—” The smoke resolved itself for a moment into the golden-haired man, his face contorted. “I’m trying to stop,” he said. His shape exploded into smoke again, and twisted almost free of Xavier’s chest, leaving Xavier unable to draw a breath for long enough that his vision darkened. Then Thomas was back, sprawled against Xavier’s side as if in the exhausted aftermath of love. “Christ, that hurt,” Thomas said. “Like trying to hold onto a hot iron.” “You know it will only get worse.” “And so what’s the point in talking about it?” The image of Thomas appeared to stand, now pressed and correct in his airman’s uniform, looking around the dim barracks-room. His soul lay quiet in Xavier’s chest, a weight that eased its lingering ache. “We still have a job to do.” “So we do.” “There have been ghosts here,” Thomas said. “Two, I think. I’d look in the engine room if I were you.” He turned, frowning. “And don’t lay aside your gun. At least one of them is in a dangerous mood.”   In the engine room, the thumping of the steam engines pulsed through Xavier’s bones, and the heat coming off every surface beat against his skin. Through his goggles he could see wisps of what looked like steam but were really the lingering traces of the dead, men and women who had died in the recent battle. Not ghosts but something more like bloodstains. He turned a circle, looking for a more solid form, and settled the goggles’ earpieces more firmly against the bones behind his ears. A hundred sounds were familiar, the cacophony of airship travel he’d long ago learned to drown out. Under them was the faintest of animal noises, a tuneless moaning. He took a step toward it, and then another. A rattling on the other side of the engine room distracted him, and he turned. A connecting rod was flailing free, its pin out and the mechanism it served shuddering with the interrupted rhythm. He crossed the deck swiftly, keeping his head lifted as if watching the loose rod, but his eyes fixed on the deck. He caught the movement and stopped short as a hatch swung open in front of him, steam rising from the gaping space he had been intended to step into. “A creditable try,” he said. “Pity I’ve seen these tricks before.” He raised his shattergun, keeping his expression calm despite his awareness of his danger. A ghost could only move small objects, but here there might be a hundred small objects that could release steam or poison fumes or heavy weights if moved. “Why don’t you go in the trap like a good lad?” he said, putting the trap down on a section of deck that he made sure was solid. “This is the end of the road, you know.” Silence greeted him. He turned a slow circle, raising the shattergun. “You’re dead,” he said. “Stone cold dead. Your corpse is sinking to the bottom of the Channel or spattered across some unfortunate farmer’s hayfield. All that remains for you is to let go your precarious grip on this plane of existence and go to whatever awaits you.” There was no answer. “Or I can shoot you with this shattergun and destroy your soul. Would you like that better?” He heard the moaning again, rising to a ragged wail like a child’s crying. He took cautious steps toward it, aware of every rattle in the machinery around him. A wisp of smoke was curled up in a niche between the steel curves of two large engines, wailing forlornly. He raised the shattergun, and the smoke solidified into a dark-haired shape in an English airman’s uniform. It was a woman, and when she raised her head, he could see from the jagged ruin of one side of her skull that she’d met her end in an abrupt collision with some blunt object. “Don’t shoot me!” He lowered the shattergun cautiously. “I would far rather not.” “I don’t want to be dead,” she said. “I’m still here, I’m still here—” “You died weeks ago,” Xavier said. Six weeks ago, assuming she was a casualty of the most recent skirmish. “Your body is miles away and decomposing. You are dead, and the sooner you grasp that, the sooner you can move on.” “I won’t go in that thing.” “You will,” Xavier said briskly, knowing gentleness would be no mercy now. “The trap will confine you painlessly while I remove you from the site of your death.” He hefted the shattergun, but left the safety on. “Or I destroy your soul. That, I promise you, will hurt.” “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, lifting a stubborn chin. It took stubbornness to be a woman in the service. “There’s been sabotage.” “It wasn’t me.” “No, I don’t think it was,” he said. He was watching her face, and he saw her eyes move past him, fixing on something behind his shoulder. She cried out, but he was already moving, and threw himself to the deck as a blast of superheated steam singed the back of his neck. Steam swam in front of his eyes, and something darker within it: a second ghost, and one that was up to no good. He pushed himself up to one elbow and reached out with his gloved hand, thrusting its mesh of wiring into the yielding substance of the new ghost and then clenching his fist. The ghost was a chill weight as he began drawing his hand back toward the trap. He had expected it to be too clever to be caught so easily. There was no resistance. He understood why a moment too late as the ghost rushed toward him, and then into him, reaching for Xavier’s heart. Clever after all, he had time to think, before the sensation of being hollowed out from the inside sent him plunging into shellshock-vivid memory, a predictable and yet unavoidable descent—   —Xavier ducked under the web of grappling lines that bound the two ships together and fired between them, flattening himself against the remains of the breached gondola wall to reload. Through his goggles, he could see souls curling up out of the bodies that littered the deck, drifting free or swirling in snakelike muddled circles as if seeking a way back in. The wind screamed. He reached down with his gloved hand to yank the nearest circling soul firmly free from its body, and held it flailing in his fist. He found his trap with the other hand, or what remained of it, shattered fragments. He shoved the soul at them anyway, but it wouldn’t go in. “Never mind the sodding dead!” someone shouted, firing from beside him, but the only certainty he had in a world full of flying debris and blood was that the souls needed to come out of the corpses, extracted like rotten teeth. He raised his head, and saw the shattergun pointed at him from across the narrow gap between the ships. He flung himself to one side, and the blast caught him on the side of the chest rather than between the eyes. I’m still here, he thought, I’m still here, and then saw the curling smoke trailing away from his chest like a ragged cloud torn apart by the wind. His breath caught in his chest, and then stopped, like something he’d forgotten how to do a long time ago. He didn’t breathe, but he still moved, crushing the soul in his fist against his chest, reaching out mechanically for the remains of the trap, pressing it to his chest, then pressing harder. Harder, until the glass cut through skin and flesh, trapping the soul coiled half in, half out of his chest. Harder, until he bled, and breathed—   —He gasped for breath, and he was in the hospital ward, with Morrow sitting in a straight-backed chair at the foot of the bed, a look of interest on his stubbled face. “You know, it never occurred to me to try what you did. Not that it would have worked for long.” Xavier looked down, and saw an alien construction of glass and metal wrapped around his chest, smoke swirling in its depths and an electric buzz humming against his skin. He breathed, trying not to gasp like a drowning swimmer. Each breath came more predictably than the last, but not more easily. “I built you a more stable housing for your passenger,” Morrow said. “Tell me, what is it like? Having someone else’s soul animating your body?” He leaned forward eagerly, chin rested on his fist. “Who is he?” “Corporal Thomas Carlisle. Now unfortunately deceased. His service record is brief and unenlightening. You haven’t answered my question.” “I’m alive,” Xavier said, but he had seen his soul shattered. Had felt himself dying. He reached up with one shaky hand and spread his fingers across the warm metal. Someone else was there as well, holding on to the inside of his chest as if wrapping desperate fingers around his ribs, determined not to let go—   His head snapped back and he tasted blood as Thomas’s shadowy form erupted from his chest, thrusting the invading ghost out with him and holding it at arm’s length. “Possessive, are you?” Xavier managed, reaching blindly for the trap and finding it thankfully intact. He maneuvered it closer to where the ghost was writhing in Thomas’s grip, trying to ignore the warning ache in his chest. “You know it.” The German ghost was solid enough now for Xavier to see his uniform and the grim set of his jaw as he fought Thomas’s grasp. Xavier’s thumb slipped clumsily off the trap’s trigger the first time he tried it, and then slipped again. The increasing pain was becoming a problem. Finally he hit it solidly, and watched in satisfaction as the ghost became a rushing fog that swirled into the trap and disappeared. His vision blurred, and he realized he hadn’t breathed in some time. He spread one hand in warning, and felt the soul rush back into his chest, its grip tightening, but still not as firm as it had been even a few hours before. Xavier spread his hand across the soul cage, a habitual gesture that still brought irrational comfort. Not much time. But enough to finish the business at hand. “Your turn, now,” he said to the English airman’s ghost, as lightly as he could manage. “Don’t dawdle, we haven’t got all day.” She slipped down from her perch and approached the trap, hanging back a healthy distance from its electric hum. “What happens after this?” “There’s an air base in Manchester where we’ll empty the traps. It’s far enough from where you died that you’ll have no trouble moving on.” And considerable trouble doing anything else, with no death energies to give her a grip on the world of the living. “I mean...what happens after that? Where do we go?” “I’m not going to find out,” he said. She met his eyes, something like sympathy kindling in her expression, bearable from someone already dead. “I am sorry,” she said, and then bolted away from the trap. He already had his gloved hand out to catch her. “So am I,” he said, and crammed her ghost into the mouth of the trap, thumbing the switch to suck the swirl of angry fog inside. Footsteps clattered on the metal decking, and an engineer stuck his head in, probably in answer to alarms from whatever essential piece of machinery the German ghost had employed in his attempt to kill Xavier. “What’s all this?” “Tell the captain I’ve taken care of his pest problem,” Xavier said. “And that he can drop me in Manchester. I’m going to sleep until then.”   The moment he closed his eyes he could feel Thomas lying beside him, as if they were ordinary lovers indulging in a late morning lie-in. “You could be wrong,” Thomas said. “I think my clock keeps good time.” Even in the dream, he could feel the ache in his chest, his hands and feet cold. “I hear Gottlieb thinks that the shattergun doesn’t really destroy the soul, just keeps it from being able to manifest as a ghost.” “Gottlieb is a German.” “Does that make him wrong?” “Morrow thinks his work is fundamentally unsound.” “For Christ’s sake.” “Morrow has occasionally been wrong,” Xavier said, but he couldn’t believe the world was fundamentally merciful enough for any part of him to survive when the link between Thomas’s soul and his body rotted away. They would put him in the ground, and that would be the end. “How long?” Thomas asked finally, his voice more even. “Your guess is as good as mine.” “You’re the ratcatcher. I was just an ordinary aviator. Blow those men down for king and country, yes, sir.” Thomas saluted jauntily, rolling away from Xavier in bed to do it. The ache in his chest worsened, and he ignored it. “A day or two, I should think. Time enough to report to Morrow and offload these poor sods.” “Maybe Morrow can do something.” “We’ve discussed the problem. He hasn’t been optimistic.” Morrow’s soul cage had lasted for months longer than Xavier’s own bloody improvisation would have, but it was still failing, the link between Thomas’s soul and its electric cage fraying faster every hour. “A day or two,” Thomas said. “Yes.” Xavier was certain it wouldn’t be two. He slept until Hedrick shook his bunk to wake him. “Manchester,” Hedrick said. “Come on, sleeping beauty.” “It’s a harder job than you’d think,” Xavier said, following Hedrick up to the observation deck to debark. “Or would you like me to put them back and you can have a go at rounding them up? You were right, by the way. One of them was a Jerry, and up to considerable mischief.” “I suppose that’s patriotic, by his lights,” Hedrick said. “But I’ll tell you this, if I die up here, I’ll go quiet as a little lamb. No more fighting for me. I’ve had my share and that’s a fact.” He clapped Xavier on the shoulder. “Next time I’m in Manchester I’ll stand you a drink.” “Have one for me,” Xavier said, and stepped onto the waiting gangplank.   The air base towered above Manchester, an iron tree twenty stories high with jutting piers and thrumming generators that made the floor gratings shudder under Xavier’s feet. Morrow met Xavier on the pier. “Good news,” he said, falling in beside Xavier as he walked. “I think I have a solution to your problem.” “You said it was insoluble.” Hope rose unbidden in his throat, a hard knot that he swallowed down ruthlessly. “I’ve worked out a technical solution. A side application, actually, of another process. Not that way,” he said, as Xavier turned toward the end of the pier, eager now to release the souls in his care and free himself to find out what Morrow had concocted. “Bring the trap down with you.” Xavier frowned, but followed Morrow to the lift cage. It clattered downward, descending through a hell of industrial machinery past levels that bustled with airmen and engineers down to the quieter cargo bays. The lift stopped on the ground floor, generally deserted except when shipments of raw materials were brought in by truck. Bare electric lights swayed overhead, casting harsh shadows. “You have no idea how much we all owe you,” Morrow said as Xavier followed him out of the lift. “What we’ve learned about how to maintain a ghost’s link to physical objects—it’s invaluable.” “You mean physical objects like my body,” Xavier said. His chest was aching again, Thomas’s soul stirring uneasily in its housing. He wished Morrow would get on with it and either offer up whatever fix might help him or stop holding out hope. “Incidentally. Not most importantly.” Morrow had been leading him through the shadowy bay toward the heavy bulks of vehicles, and stopped now with his hand caressing the hard lines of a tank. Its turret swiveled toward Xavier, and he froze in momentary alarm. “There’s no danger, its guns aren’t loaded.” “I didn’t think these things were radio-controlled.” “They’re not.” Morrow drew a bulky pistol from his coat pocket that Xavier realized after a moment’s examination was a shattergun, though a smaller model than any he’d seen before. “Can’t you see it?” Thomas’s soul was writhing in alarm, and Xavier squinted at the tank, adjusting his goggles. When he turned them up to maximum sensitivity he could see the curl of smoke at the tank’s heart, swirling in tight unhappy circles and then battering itself against the walls of an invisible cage before returning to its circling. “It’s haunted,” Xavier said. “Inhabited,” Morrow said. “By a ghost with the power to control it without risking any living men.” His eyes were alight. “The next step in modern warfare.” “Its occupant doesn’t seem very pleased.” “They never like being in a trap. Surely you’ve learned that as a ratcatcher. There’s a certain discomfort involved in being bound into something other than a living body.” By discomfort Morrow generally meant excruciating pain. “How long can you keep it there?” “Indefinitely. Which provides a solution to your own problem, by the way.” He extracted a glowing puzzle-box of glass and metal from his pocket, something like the central cage within the maze of glass and wiring on Xavier’s chest. “But this is the real promise of it. There won’t be any more need for our men to leave the service just because they’re dead. No more excuses for desertion.” “I wouldn’t call it desertion.” “Retreating from the field,” Morrow said. “Going to their rest. Well, no one’s resting until this war is over.” The glitter in his eyes suggested that it had been long since he slept himself. “As long as it’s voluntary.” “Of course it’s voluntary.” Morrow brandished the shattergun and bared his teeth. “So far they’ve all preferred it to the alternative.” “I see,” Xavier said. He was very aware of the weight of the trap under his arm, the souls within it only dimly aware, but moving restlessly in response to Thomas’s agitation. “One of these is a German,” he said. “Not good material for your purposes.” “There’s an easy cure for that,” Morrow said, thumbing the safety off the shattergun. “Of course.” He wondered how long it would take for the German high command to hear about this, and how fast the order would go out to destroy any English soul found haunting German battlefields. It couldn’t take much longer for Gottlieb or someone equally clever on the other side to replicate Morrow’s process and fill the battlefields with machines powered by the unquiet dead. His vision swam, and he gritted his teeth in mingled panic and frustration—not yet—before he realized that Thomas was pulling him down into a waking dream, appearing at his side overlaid on the shimmering forms of tanks. “The man in that tank was a gunnery sergeant,” Thomas said. “A good soldier. He’s in incredible pain, and Morrow threatens him with the shattergun whenever he makes a credible effort to tear himself free.” Xavier spread his hands in acknowledgement, but did not reply. Morrow was in no state to hear objections to his plan, and if he objected too strongly, Morrow had the life-saving soul cage to withhold from him. The hope Morrow had kindled beat in his throat, a desperate desire to live at any cost. All he had to do was accept. “We’re dead men anyway,” Thomas said. “So we are,” Xavier said, and opened the trap. The ghosts erupted out of the trap and streamed as one toward Morrow. Thomas followed them, striding forward, and Xavier staggered back, his chest burning. “Xavier,” Morrow said, disapproving but not afraid yet. “So clumsy of me,” Xavier said. He managed to take a breath, and then couldn’t remember how to take another one. Morrow pointed the shattergun at Thomas’s chest, and Xavier strained to move, but his limbs felt filled with lead. Morrow pulled the trigger, but the gun didn’t fire. The safety was engaged again, and clearly stuck fast as Morrow struggled to disengage it. Xavier could make out some individual forms within the roiling mass of souls, the faces of dead men and women, all painfully young. The soul of the woman airman hung back, reaching into the tank with both hands, tugging the ghost inside free of its metal bulk. Other ghostly hands were on the shattergun, twisting it in Morrow’s hand, pressing its muzzle toward his temple. Morrow tugged at the gun, and then fought for it, still looking more annoyed than afraid. For a moment Xavier met Thomas’s eyes. He knew he should shake his head, forbid murder, but he took refuge in the weariness that made shaking his head a Herculean task. The ghosts were moaning, now, a rising wail of single-minded purpose. Even without goggles, Morrow looked as if he could hear them now, or perhaps he only felt their chill as they swarmed him, writhing against his skin. “You’re all dead men,” Morrow said. There was acceptance in their voices. Their grip on this world was loosening, the pull of whatever lay beyond growing stronger by the second. Now, he mouthed in choking silence, and he saw Thomas nod, his eyes smiling. It seemed all right then to let his eyes close. He heard, rather than saw, the safety catch on the shattergun give, and as if from a long way away he heard it fire.   Time passed, and went on passing. He could feel hands inside his chest, holding desperately tight to his ribs, familiar and yet strange. The metal grating of the floor was cold against his cheek. He lifted his head. Hurry, someone urged. Xavier tried to stand, and failed. He crawled instead, inching his way toward Morrow’s still form. Morrow’s chest was moving shallowly, but his stare was sightless. He felt across the grating until he found the soul cage that had fallen from Morrow’s hand. It felt warm even through his glove. He tore open Morrow’s collar and pressed it to Morrow’s skin. Wires sprouted from it, burrowing into bare flesh. He felt a surge of envy, and the presence within him writhed in denial and anger, holding on tighter. Morrow opened his eyes. “Maybe not such dead men,” he said, the voice Morrow’s but the tone teasing and familiar. “Morrow?” “I expect I had better be.” “If you’re in there ...” Xavier spread his hand across the soul cage on his chest. “Airman Anna Lambert,” the woman airman said, as close as if she were sitting on his lap, not a position he’d ever been in with a woman. He could feel her amusement at that thought. “You’d better get used to it, since I don’t want to die and neither do you.” “Pleased to meet you.” “Such pretty manners, yet. I think we’ll do all right.” She retreated back into the soul cage, settling in like a cat turning round before curling into its basket. Morrow sat up cautiously, fingering the soul cage where it pulsed against his skin. “We need to find another one of these to house your passenger in the long term,” he said, and then frowned. “Unless he made only one?” “Morrow never made only one of anything.” Xavier looked around at the empty trap and the motionless tank. Souls still roiled within the others, aching to be ripped free. But first things first. “What are we going to say happened here?” “I don’t know what you mean,” Morrow said, looking at him with Thomas’s most level gaze. “I admit I’m not feeling...entirely myself. A touch of shell shock, maybe. Requiring a holiday from my work while I figure out what in blazes Morrow was doing here and how to give the impression I understand it.” “His mind is gone?” “Gone wherever shattered souls go. Gottlieb might still be right.” “I’m not going to weep for Morrow either way,” Xavier said. “I’m Morrow. You’d better keep that straight.” “A touch of shell shock myself,” Xavier said. “I don’t know what I was saying.” “Think nothing of it, old chap,” Morrow said, and turned to regard the tanks. “Gruesome things, aren’t they? I think we’ll be writing this off as a failed experiment.” “You mean that you’ll be writing it off,” Xavier said. “If you can transplant Lambert here into more permanent housing without accident—I expect Morrow left good notes—” “I devoutly hope so.” “Then I’ve got work to do in the field. This war won’t stop making ghosts.” He felt a twinge of loss at the thought of making those bloody rounds without Thomas curled under his breastbone, and told himself angrily not to be a fool. “Kiss him, for Christ’s sake,” Lambert said. “I would.” Xavier coughed, and Morrow looked at him in alarm. “My passenger has an unfortunate sense of humor,” he said by way of explanation. “That ought to suit you,” Morrow said. He looked as if he felt a certain degree of loss himself. It would have been madness to make any such gesture in the air base, but Xavier reached out and caught his hand, and Morrow held it, his rough fingers unfamiliar in Xavier’s own. “I’m still here,” Xavier said, and went on breathing.   END   "Ratcatcher" was originally published in Mothership Zeta and is copyright Amy Griswold, 2016. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, leaving reviews on iTunes, or buying your own copy of the Summer 2018 issue at www.glittership.com/buy. You can also support us by picking up a free audiobook at  www.audibletrial.com/glittership. Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a GlitterShip original, "The Girl With All the Ghosts" by Alex Yuschik.  

Science fiction, spoilerifics and Bad Faith... WHAT’S NEW ON THE INTERNET? Counterpart spoilerific British Fantasy Awards BOOK CLUB Joanna Russ’ How to Suppress Women’s Writing: Chapter 2 + 3 discussion (9:05 to 56:45) CULTURE CONSUMED: Alisa: PhD update, Icefall by Stephanie Gunn Tansy: Killjoys S1 & S2, Melissa Scott, Finders. Alex: The Silence of the Girls, Pat Barker; Exit Strategy, Martha Wells; Stargate SG1 rewatch… Please send feedback to us at galacticsuburbia@gmail.com, follow us on Twitter at @galacticsuburbs, check out Galactic Suburbia Podcast on Facebook, support us at Patreon - which now includes access to the ever so exclusive GS Slack - and don't forget to leave a review on iTunes if you love us!

Many lawyers feel as if they don’t have enough free time or space for their own life apart from work. Today’s episode of Beyond Billables deals largely with what to do with the time you spend outside of work (as limited as that time may be). Our guest for this episode is Melissa Scott - attorney, big picture thinker, ex-bodybuilder, and legal counselor at Megaport.   Melissa has a lot of insight to share not only in terms of her journey as a lawyer that went in-house, but also in how to have a life outside of work. We dug deep into her health and fitness odyssey, talked about creative outlets, having fun, and ultimately what constitutes a good and balanced life.     Listen to the full episode to all this, plus things like.   Melissa’s journey out of the billable hour paradigm The inside scoop on Megaport A day in the life of an in-house attorney Melissa’s experience as a bodybuilder The value of being a self-learner How Melissa has faced technical topics Tech startup vs law firm pros and cons The danger in extreme personalities Why you must find a creative outlet Melissa’s advice to her younger self   Links: Melissa Scott - Linkedin ACC Australia Megaport

    Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip episode #53 for March 29, 2018. This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to be sharing these stories with you. Today we have three GlitterShip originals for you: a poem, a piece of flash fiction, and a short story for you. The poem is "Cucumber" by Penny Stirling.   Penny Stirling edits and embroiders in Western Australia. Their speculative fiction and poetry can be found in Lackington's, Interfictions, Strange Horizons, Heiresses of Russ, Transcendent and other venues. For aroace discussion and bird photography, follow them at www.pennystirling.com or on Twitter @numbathyal. Cucumber   Penny Stirling     He lullabies my ghosts so I can sleep in, my life-compeer, my comrade-errant, and I risk griffin bite for his medicine. We don't kiss or act how a couple should and people enquire: when will we progress? Surely we've been just friends long enough.   We find tracking migrating dragons more wondrous than our hearts, entrusting each other's lives in combat more significant than vows, unearthing riddle-hid treasure before rivals more satisfying than sex; we are closer than quest-allies yet less physical than love-couples. But feelings outside romance have less import even if we are one another's most important. Just friends.   He doesn't care, he says. He never cares what allies or enemies say, he says. I say enough! My life-partner, my peril-mate, we are enough. But I just have had enough. My friend, please: matching rings, balance-enchanted. He doesn't care, either, congratulated for finally maturing enough.   We don't kiss or act how a couple should yet people don't enquire if we will progress. Being just spouse and spouse is enough.   END   Izzy Wasserstein teaches English at a midwestern university, writes poetry and fiction, and shares a house with several animal companions and the writer Nora E. Derrington. Her work has recently appeared in or is forthcoming from Clarkesworld, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, Pseudopod and elsewhere. She is an enthusiastic member of the 2017 class of Clarion West. She likes to slowly run long distances. Her website is izzywasserstein.com Ports of Perceptions   Izzy Wasserstein       Chase had come down with both kind of viruses, and worried Hunter had been growing distant, so Hunter suggested they indulge in some PKD. While the drug kicked in, they sprawled on the mattress in Hunter’s flat and exchanged. Hunter’s arm-ports synched with the receivers on Chase’s back and data flowed between them, which they agreed was worth the risk, despite Chase’s cold and the v0x virus still being rooted out by antivi. Chase felt Hunter’s concern turn to desire, and they explored each other and the PKD. Chase unclasped each of their right forearms, then swapped them. Hunter’s arm, which was, or had been, or would be Chase’s, moved over their bodies. They disconnected Hunter’s not-quite-legal sensory enhancer and synched it with Chase’s, and the rush was like data exchange but more immediate, more vivid. They swapped more parts as the sensory loop built between them. Soon Chase cried out for release, but Hunter let anticipation build, feeling Chase’s rising desire, which was Hunter’s. The drug worked on their flesh, their firmware, their coil of tech and limbs; it bypassed the neurons that told Chase which body was Chase’s, which Hunter’s, that told Hunter where Hunter ended and the Universe began; and so they grew into each other, their bodies and consciousnesses spreading from their node across the web. They were together. They were everywhere. When finally they collapsed and held one another, Chase said Hunter’s name, or Hunter said Chase’s, or each said their own. They lay in the tangle of each other, and Chase was Hunter and Hunter’s thoughts were Chase’s, and neither was sure where they ended and reality began. Hunter caught Chase’s cold, or had always had it, or had always been Chase. Neither cared, if indeed they had ever been separate. END Amy Griswold is the author (with Melissa Scott) of Death by Silver (winner of the Lambda Literary Award) and A Death at the Dionysus Club, fantasy/mystery novels set in an alternate Victorian England. Her interactive novel The Eagle's Heir (with Jo Graham) was published in 2017, and their second interactive novel Stronghold, a heroic fantasy game about defending a town and building a community, is forthcoming in 2018. The Questing Beast   Amy Griswold       The first time Sir Palamedes is tempted to give up pursuing the Questing Beast, he is tramping through the woods on a bleak winter day, his frosty breath hanging in a white cloud each time he exhales.  His feet are sore, and his shoes are worn thin.  His horse went lame a week ago, and is returning home in the uncertain care of Palamedes' squire.  Palamedes is following the sound of distant barking, and is beginning to think the sound will drive him mad. He is far off any beaten track, although he can see the prints of men and horses frozen into the icy turf.  They might have been following the Questing Beast themselves, overcome with wonder at a sight that Palamedes is beginning to find commonplace.  Or they might have been about some other errand entirely.  They might even now be sipping mulled wine by a warm fire at home, rather than tramping through the woods after an abominable beast. The trees are thinning, and through them Palamedes can see the rutted track of a road.  It will be easier walking, and surely he can pick up the trail of the Beast again later.  Nothing else leaves such tracks, shaped like the hoofprints of a deer but dug deep into the turf under its monstrous weight.  Nothing else makes such a clamor, like a pack of hounds gone mad with no answering music of horns. He smells smoke before he sees the little camp by the side of the road. A horse is picketed and cropping at the thin brown grass, and a man is warming his hands over the fire.  His shield is propped against a log, and it is by the arms more than by his travel-dirtied face that Palamedes knows him: Sir Tristan, who swore to kill Palamedes when they last met. They have been sworn enemies for years, for reasons that begin to seem increasingly absurd. Once when Palamedes was a light-hearted youth, Iseult the Fair smiled at him, and he supposes that explains why he and Tristan must be enemies, even though Iseult has long since wedded Mark of Cornwall in obedience to her duty.  He suspects that competing for a lady's adulterous favors is less than the true spirit of chivalry. And yet he pauses, thinking of Iseult with sunlight on her hair, her face tipped up to him as she asked him curiously about distant Babylon which he will never see again.  She did not scorn him for keeping faith with the gods of his childhood.  Perhaps she would never have married a pagan, but there can be no question of marriage, now.  If Tristan fell, and he were there to bring her the comfort she would not seek in her unloving husband's arms … But these are unworthy thoughts.  If he steps out of the woods and declares himself, it will be to meet Tristan in battle as Tristan has long desired.  Tristan looks cold and drawn, clearly the worse for his travels, but surely no more so than Palamedes himself.  Tristan has been riding, not walking, his heavy cloak not frayed to shreds and his boots not worn parchment-thin.  It would be a fair fight, surely. The sound of hounds baying rises over the woods, a wild familiar clamor.  Tristan lifts his head, gazes into the trees for a moment, and then turns back to warming his hands, like a man too weary to think wonders any of his concern. Palamedes turns and sees the Questing Beast through the trees, distant but clear, its serpent's neck outstretched, its heavy leopard's body, from which the barking of hounds perpetually sounds, crouching balanced on its cloven hooves.  The beast itself is mute, no sound coming from its throat even when it opens its mouth as if to taste the air. The voice that whispers in his head is an older one, the goddess of his childhood, Anahita-of-the-beasts.  Or perhaps there is no voice at all, only the familiar sound of his own thoughts, his only companion on his long road. Will you keep faith with him, or with your oath? it asks. He swore to follow the Beast, and not only at his leisure.  Palamedes turns his back on the fire, the fight, and the ease of following the road, and follows the Questing Beast, quickening his steps as the Beast begins to run.   The second time Sir Palamedes is tempted to stop pursuing the Questing Beast, he is riding down a well-traveled road on a warm summer evening.  He has met with many travelers, and answered their courteous inquiries with the tale of his quest, which is becoming wearisome to tell. Most of them look at him as if he is mad, which is not entirely out of the question. The tracks of the Beast are dug deep into the mud beside the road, and he does not fear losing its trail, though it must be a day or more ahead of him.  It will sleep, for the night, and so must he.  He turns his horse's head from the road into a meadow beside a running stream.  Another traveler is camped there already, and as Palamedes dismounts he prepares to tell his story once again. Tristan emerges from his tent, stops as he recognizes Palamedes, and stands staring, apparently at a loss for words.  He looks well-fed and well-rested this time, and certainly fit for a duel. But it feels a bit ridiculous at this point to call themselves mortal enemies, having rescued each other from perils that interfered with their duel to the death so many times that it’s clear neither of them relishes having the duel at all. "Well met, Sir Tristan," he says.  "May I share your camp, or must we settle our differences on the field of arms first?" "I expect it can wait until morning," Tristan says.  "Sit and have some dinner." They share a roasted grouse and sit chewing over the bones as the stars come out. "You've never told me how you came to hunt the Questing Beast," Tristan says. He supposes he hasn't, although it feels as if he's told the tale to everyone in England.  "Sir Pellinore was growing old," he says.  "But he said he couldn't lay down his charge until there was a man willing to take it up, and he wouldn't lay such a thing on his sons." "So he laid it on you?  That seems sharp dealing." "I offered to do it," Palamedes says.  "And I suppose he thought as a stranger to these shores I wouldn't be leaving a home and responsibilities behind."  He shrugs.  "I don't regret it." "You've had little chance of winning a lady this way, though," Tristan says, as close as Palamedes thinks they will come to speaking of Iseult.  He wonders how many years it has been since Tristan has seen her.  "Surely that must come hard." "One hardly misses what one has never had," Palamedes says.  The memory of Iseult is a distant dream.  The reality is this, the road, the quest, and the sometime company of other knights who are willing to go some distance down his unending road at his side.  "If I have been deprived of the favors of fair ladies, I have had the friendship of the most gallant of knights." "I hope you count me among them," Tristan says, and Palamedes does, although he is aware they still might end by shedding each other's blood on the thirsty earth. "I would be honored," he says, and reaches out a hand to clasp Tristan's.  The other man's hand is rough and warm in his, the pulse beating hard under the skin.  It is a warm night full of possibilities.  He pulls Tristan toward him for a kiss he does not intend as brotherly. Tristan turns his head, and it ends up a brotherly salute after all.  "You know I am a Christian knight," he says.  Palamedes spreads his hands to grant that Tristan's god may be more forgiving of adultery than of other sins of the flesh.  The blood is high in Tristan's cheeks all the same, his eyes intent.  "If you were a Christian as well …" Palamedes breathes a laugh.  "Then you would feel it justified?" "Well so, if it brought you to Christ." It is a high-handed offer, and a perverse one, and still for a moment tempting.  Of all men, there are few he respects as much as Tristan, and few whose company he desires as much.  "And would you then bear me company on my quest?" "I think you would find if you accepted baptism that there were other quests more worth the pursuing," Tristan says.  "Whether the Grail or the peace of a Christian marriage and a family."  There is wistfulness in his voice when he speaks of such comforts, which certainly Tristan has never had himself. For a moment Palamedes is tempted himself to agree.  He does not regret his quest, it is true, but it is growing ever difficult to remember why it matters.  Friendship and ease would surely be worth putting himself in the bleeding hands of the Christian god. There is a breath of noise that might be the murmuring of the brook, but he knows it for the distant sound of hounds barking, barely a whisper on the wind. Are you his or mine? a voice says in the quiet of his heart, the warm implacable voice of Anahita-of-the-winds with her outstretched hands. "I can only be as I am," Palamedes says, and stands.  "And I have tarried here too long.  If I ride through the night, I can at least get closer to my quarry."  He bows to Tristan.  "We can fight next time we meet." "I will look forward to it," Tristan says quite courteously, and Palamedes swings himself up to the saddle and turns his horse's head into the darkness.   The third time Palamedes is tempted to stop pursuing the Questing Beast, he dismounts to drink at a forest stream in a crisp autumn, and raises his head to see the Questing Beast on the other side of the stream, its head bent to the water. It is silent while drinking, as if the water calms the maddened hounds who howl from its belly.  Palamedes reaches silently for the bow hung from his saddle, and fits an arrow to the string.  He draws it back, aiming for the Beast's heart.  One clean shot will bring it down, and end his quest forever. The Beast's eyes are closed as if in pleasure at the taste of the cool water.  Its sinuous neck lowers, and it settles down on its haunches, resting in the mossy bank.  It must be an effort to support that bulk on ill-fitted hooves, and to sleep with the noise of baying eternally in its own ears. It is the child of a human woman, or so Pellinore told him, the child of a liar who lusted after her own brother and lay with a demon to win him.  It will never have a mate or a home.  He thinks for a moment that he knows how it must feel. But Palamedes has friends he has loved well, and the satisfaction of having mended a hundred small hurts while on the road: he has fought monsters and found lost sheep, brought stray children back to their mothers and jousted with menacing giants.  The road has been more a reward to him than a punishment.  He wonders which it is for the Beast, and knows that he will never know. Palamedes puts down the bow and stoops to fill his cupped hands with water.  The Beast startles at the movement, raising its serpentine head and staring at him with its unblinking eyes, its whole body poised for flight. He holds out his hands to it, and the Beast takes one step into the water, and then another, and then lowers its head to drink.  Its flickering tongue is warm.  It stands quietly, trusting, and Palamedes knows that this is a wonder no other man has seen before him. Would the Grail be better? a voice asks, the teasing voice of Anahita-of-the-waters. "You know it would not," he says aloud.  The Beast raises its head sharply at the sound, the clamor of barking beginning again.  It whips its bulk around and springs away, the barking retreating through the underbrush. Palamedes bends to drink, and then mounts his horse again, turning its head toward the sound of baying hounds.  It is a long afternoon's pursuit through the cool clear autumn air, the leaves turning to all the colors of a tapestry lit by dancing flames. The trees thin at the edge of the wood, and when he comes out onto the road, he is somehow unsurprised to see a familiar knight riding under a familiar banner.  Tristan's face is set in lines of frustration, and Palamedes supposes that he has been trying to persuade Iseult to run away with him again, as suitably impossible a quest as any. "Well met, Sir Tristan," he says, falling in beside him on the road.  "May I ride a little ways with you, or must we stop to have our battle?" "We might ride on a little ways beforehand," Tristan says.  He smiles, and some few of his cares seem to lift from him.  "Have you given more thought to baptism since last we met?  It seems to me you were undecided when we spoke before." "I was not, and I am not," Palamedes says.  "But you may go on trying to persuade me."  He spurs his horse on to a faster walk, knowing soon enough he will have to turn away from the road toward the sound of distant baying.  But for now he has a good road underfoot, and on such a fine day, he cannot think of any road he would rather be traveling.   END “Cucumber” is copyright Penny Stirling 2018. "Ports of Perceptions" is copyright Izzy Wasserstein 2018. "The Questing Beast" is copyright Amy Griswold 2018. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, or by leaving reviews on iTunes. Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a reprint.

On this episode of Uncommon Communion, you are in for a treat as Melissa Scott shares vulnerably about her life. We discuss the impact of mentors, Melissa's journey as a yoga practitioner and teacher, as well as discussing what it's like to live being the best we can be. As Richard Rohr puts it, "So often we spend our lives trying to be other people. Yet God says, 'I made you, and I like the you I’ve made, so just do your best and be yourself, and I’ll be there to help you.' It’s not something we have to do alone, but something we grow into." Enjoy.

This week's episode of The Adelaide Show is simply Vote 1 South Australia, our look into the upcoming state election on March 17. Our commentators are Robert Godden and Melissa Scott. Robert is an HR expert and tea purveyor but we asked him onto the program because he is also an astute observer of all things political. Melissa is nowadays working in accounting for a large firm but she has worked at the coalface in Australian federal elections and brings some global, US perspective to our electoral battles, too. This week, the SA Drink Of The Week is a tea by The Devotea In IS IT NEWS, Nigel challenges us on stories about politics from our past. In 100 Weeks Ago, we delve into the Big Shed Brewing Concern. And in the musical pilgrimage ... Todd has lined up Toucan Blues. And please consider becoming part of our podcast by joining our Inner Circle. It's an email list. Join it and you might get an email on a Sunday or Monday seeking question ideas, guest ideas and requests for other bits of feedback about YOUR podcast, The Adelaide Show. Email us directly and we'll add you to the list: podcast@theadelaideshow.com.au If you enjoy the show, please leave us a 5-star review in iTunes or other podcast sites, or buy some great merch from our Red Bubble store - The Adelaide Show Shop. We'd greatly appreciate it. And please talk about us and share our episodes on social media, it really helps build our community. The Adelaide Show on Facebook The Adelaide Show on Twitter The Adelaide Show on Instagram The Adelaide Show on LinkedIn https://plus.google.com/+TheAdelaideShowPodcast Our index of all episode in one concise page Support the show: https://theadelaideshow.com.au/listen-or-download-the-podcast/adelaide-in-crowd/ See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Book Appreciation with Catherine Lundoff  In the Book Appreciation segments, our featured authors (or your host) will talk about one or more favorite books with queer female characters in a historic setting.  In this episode Catherine Lundoff recommends some favorite queer historical novels:   Tomoe Gozen by Jessica Amanda Salmonson Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca  Slammerkin by Emma Donoghue Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca  Kissing the Witch (collection) by Emma Donoghue Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca  Affinity by Sarah Waters Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca  Fingersmith by Sarah Waters Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca  also a nod to The Armor of Light by Melissa Scott and Lisa Barnett (queer authors, but queer male protagonists) Amazon.com | Amazon.co.uk | Amazon.ca  A transcript of this show can be found here. More info The Lesbian Historic Motif Project lives here  For further information on Catherine Lundoff’s fiction, see the website for Queen of Swords Press or the show notes for the previous episode of the Lesbian Historic Motif Podcast when she was interviewed.  If you have questions or comments about the LHMP or these podcasts, send them to: contact@alpennia.com 

Episode 42 is part of the Spring 2017 issue! Support GlitterShip by picking up your copy here: http://www.glittership.com/buy/   The Passing Bell by Amy Griswold   My hired horse threw a shoe between Bristol and Bath, and by the time the wearying business of getting another nailed on was complete the shadows were growing long and the wind was sharpening its knives.  “It’s kind of you to put me up,” I said, jingling pennies in my pocket to encourage such generosity.  In a town so small it had neither pub nor inn, I considered myself fortunate to be offered the chance to sleep in the blacksmith’s loft.      Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip. This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to be sharing this story with you. Our story for today is "The Passing Bell" by Amy Griswold. Amy Griswold is the author (with Melissa Scott) of DEATH BY SILVER and A DEATH AT THE DIONYSUS CLUB from Lethe Press. Her most recent work (with Jo Graham) is the interactive novel THE EAGLE'S HEIR from Choice of Games. She lives in North Carolina, where she writes standardized tests as well as fiction, and tries not to confuse the two.     The Passing Bell by Amy Griswold   My hired horse threw a shoe between Bristol and Bath, and by the time the wearying business of getting another nailed on was complete the shadows were growing long and the wind was sharpening its knives.  “It’s kind of you to put me up,” I said, jingling pennies in my pocket to encourage such generosity.  In a town so small it had neither pub nor inn, I considered myself fortunate to be offered the chance to sleep in the blacksmith’s loft.  “Glad to, if you’ve got the coin,” the blacksmith said.  “Only the missus is particular in her way about knowing something about strangers who are going to sleep under her roof.  What’s your name, and what’s your age, and what’s your trade, good man?  For she’ll ask me all three.”  “Rob Tar is my name, and my age is twenty and six,” I said.  “And I’m an able seaman aboard the Red Boar out of Bristol.  My girl Minnie lives in Bath, and I’m on my way to keep her company a while until we sail again.  I’ve never claimed to be a good man, but I’ll be no trouble to you, and I can pay you for supper and bed."  In fact I had three months’ pay, most of it stuffed down my shirt to pose less temptation to thieves.  “Will that satisfy your lady?” “It should,” Mister Smith said, with a sheepish sort of shuffle that would have looked more at home on a boy than a big man with biceps like hams.  “You understand, she’s a particular sort of woman.”  He seemed to notice for the first time that his dogs were circling me suspiciously, as if waiting for the cue to set their teeth into an intruder.  “Get by, dogs, we’ve a guest tonight.” He led me into a kitchen where a warm fire was glowing and went aside to speak with the presumed mistress of the house, a young wife but hardly a merry one, her dun hair matching her dun dress so that she looked faded, as if washed too many times.  I was beginning to get some feeling back into my feet when she came over with bread and salt fish. “That ought to do for a sailor,” she said, and I nodded polite thanks, though in truth I’d eaten enough fish while at sea that I’d have preferred the toughest fowl or most dubious of hams.  “If you’d come a week ago, we’d have had nothing for you but pork.”  “Too bad,” I said, and tried not to think about crisp bacon. At that moment, a dull music split the air, the heavy tolling of a steeple-bell.  It rang twice, paused, rang twice again, and then began a doleful series of strokes.  It was the death knell, and I put on my most solemn face, thinking how awkward it was to be a stranger in a small town at such a time.  “Who do you suppose has died?” “I expect no one yet,” Mister Smith said.  His wife said nothing, only stood with her mouth pressed tight together, listening to the tolling bell.  In a small town such as this, I could well believe they kept up the old custom of ringing the bell as soon as the parson heard news of a death, but to ring it before the death seemed perverse. “Surely there aren’t any hangings here,” I said.  A condemned prisoner was the only sort of man I could think of whose death might be predicted with certainty beforehand.  “I suppose if someone’s lying deathly ill . . .”  “We’ll know by morning,” Mister Smith said.  “The bell never lies, you see—”  He broke off abruptly as the bell finally came to the end of its dull refrain and seemed at a loss for how to go on. “Twenty-six,” Mistress Smith said, and when I turned at her tone I saw that her face had turned gray with some strong emotion I didn’t understand.  “Nine strokes to tell a man, and twenty-six to tell his age.  Don’t tell me I miscounted.” “I’m sure you didn’t,” the smith said.  He twisted the leather of his apron in his hands, looking from one of us to the other.  “It might be best if you found your bed now.” “The hour is growing late,” I said, because I misliked his wife’s expression, and had developed aboard ship a keen sense of how the wind was blowing. The man picked up a lantern and led me back out into the chill dooryard.  The ladder up to the loft above the forge was rickety, and he held the lantern to light my way.  “You mustn’t mind my wife,” he said.  “Our troubles here are nothing to do with you.” Well, only the most incurious of born lubbers could have refrained from asking the question after that. “What did she mean about the bell?” “There’s somewhat wrong with our church bell,” Smith said.  “The parson rings it in the ordinary way after every death in the town, but you can hear it all through town the night before.” It took me a moment to parse that.  “You mean the bell rings before someone dies?” “The bell sounds before someone dies, but the parson doesn’t ring it until after.  It’s been that way as long as anyone in town can remember. You mustn’t think we’re entirely ungrateful; when it tolls for your old uncle, you can go round and see him beforehand and say your farewells, you see?  But it’s hard when it tolls for a child, or a man in his prime with little chance of passing away peacefully in his bed.” The light from the lantern shifted, as if his hand were less than steady on its handle.  Outside its circle of light, black branches bent against a dark sky that was beginning to spit frigid rain.  “This wouldn’t be a tale spun to frighten travelers, would it?” I asked.  “For I’ve heard them all in my time.” “I swear it’s the plain truth,” Smith said.  “And it’s a bad night for traveling, but I’ll understand if you’d rather be on your way.”  He paused a moment and then added, “It might be for the best.  You heard what the bell told.” “I’m willing to take the chance,” I said.  “I’ve heard more frightening stories than this.” “It’s no more than the truth,” the man said, but with resignation, as if he were used to skepticism from strangers.  He hung up the lantern, and turned abruptly to go.  “Your horse is shod and I’ve got your coins for the night’s lodging, so I expect we’re square, and there’s no more that needs to be said.”  He tramped out, leaving me to ascend the ladder in no mood to settle down easily to sleep. I shivered for a while under the thin horse blanket spread over an equally thin pallet, and then realized that the forge and the kitchen of the house shared a common chimney that went up the opposite wall.  I made my way over to it, hoping to warm my hands at least, and I heard the mutter of voices through the wall.  After a bare moment’s hesitation, I pressed my ear unashamed to the stones, having long profited from such caution.  “Give me the hatchet,” I heard Mistress Smith say, and was abruptly glad I hadn’t balked at eavesdropping. “You don’t need the hatchet,” Mister Smith said.  “I mean to leave it in the good Lord’s hands.” “You mean you don’t mean to lift a hand yourself to save your life, when it’s you or that stranger who’ll die tonight.  Well, you needn’t get your hands dirty if you scruple to it.  Just you give me the hatchet, and tell anyone who asks that you slept sound.” “And what do you mean to say, when the town watch comes knocking?” “Old Bill?  I’ll tell him that I woke at a noise in the courtyard, and came out to see men running away.  He’ll set up a hue and cry that will take the rest of the night.  You’ll see.”  There was a feverish certainty to her voice.  “All you need do is leave it all to me.” “I won’t have it, I tell you.” “I don’t care what you will and won’t have.  You’re not much of a man, it seems, but you’re my man, and I don’t mean to wager your life on the toss of a coin.  Give me the hatchet, and don’t you set foot outside until I come back.”  I had only a few moments to escape.  I had a knife, which I took up now, and the cover of darkness on my side.  For all that, my heart was pounding in my chest; I’ve never been a brawler, nor been much in the habit of fighting with women.  I made for the ladder, but before I reached it I heard the sound of footsteps below.  “Do you lie comfortably?” Mistress Smith’s voice rose up. I thought of feigning snores, but lacked confidence in my own dramatic skills. “Quite comfortably,” I called back down.  “I’ve everything a man could want.” “I thought I’d bring you a hot drink,” she said.  “A bit of a toddy to take the chill from the air.  Do come down and drink it before it gets cold.” “It’s very kind,” I said, putting my back to the loft wall and hoping that a swung hatchet wouldn’t go through it.  “But I never touch the demon drink, not since I got religion.” “A sailor who’s an abstainer?” she said.  “I never heard of such.” “It’s true all the same,” I said.  “It pleases my girl, you understand.” “I’ve a blanket for you at least,” she said.  “And you can come in with me and fetch a cup of hot milk.” “Thank you kindly, but I’ll lodge where I am.”  I held my breath, and heard the ladder creak as she put her foot on it.  It creaked twice more, and then her head and shoulders appeared framed in the doorway and light glinted off the hatchet blade.  I kicked her square in the bosom, though I’m not proud to say it, and knocked her and the ladder both down from the loft.  I swung down after her, seeing her sprawled in the straw, unhurt but struggling to rise, and went for the hatchet. She grasped it as well, her hands clawing at mine, raking them with her fingernails.  “Will you give over!” I tried to shoulder her away.  “You’re wrong in what you think.  I’m no man of twenty-six.” “You claim now you were lying?” Her face was close enough to mine as we struggled that I could smell her breath.  “There’s a strange habit, for a man to tell lies about his age to everyone he meets.” Her grip on the hatchet loosened as she spoke, and I tightened my own.  “So it would be,” I said.  “But I’m no man, and that was the lie I told.  That and the bit about the drink, which I admit is a besetting vice.  I put on breeches to go to sea, but I’m a woman all the same underneath them, and never more glad of it than today.”  I forebore to add that my girl was glad of it too, as I felt under the circumstances it would be taken as cheek. She laughed in my face.  “That’s a nasty lie to save your skin.” “I’ll prove it if you like,” I said.  “If you’ll give over your attempt to chop me up for firewood long enough.” At that moment, her husband came in, and I shoved her toward him, hoping that he’d catch the hatchet out of her hands.  He plucked it away from her with his left hand and tossed it aside, but as he let her go I saw that he had a cleaver in his right hand.  I saw the bulging of his shoulders and thought I must know what a chicken felt like at butchering time. “It came on me that it was wrong to leave the missus to do what must be done,” he said. “I’ll swear any oath you like, my mother named me Kate,” I said, and reached for the top button of my shirt. “A wicked wench who’ll dress up as a man can’t complain if she’s buried as one,” the woman said, and I saw a look pass between her and her husband that made my heart sink.  “What the parson doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” “I’m sorry to have to do it,” Mister Smith told me, but he was lifting the cleaver, and I turned tail and ran. I heard the clamor of dogs barking behind me, and rethought in a hurry my initial plan to make for the road out of town.  I looked about for a tree to climb, and saw none.  There was a stone wall at the end of the lane, though, and I went pelting toward it with what sounded like a whole Bedlam of dogs baying at my heels. They leapt snarling as I scrambled up the wall, but any sailor, lad or lass, can climb like a monkey, and I reached the top of the wall and dropped down on the other side.  I was in a little churchyard, but before I could slip away over the wall on the other side, the parson came out to see what was the matter with the dogs, who were still howling in a perfect fury.  Though he wore spectacles balanced on his narrow nose, he also had a heavy stick in his hand and looked as if he were willing to use it. “The blacksmith set his dogs on me,” I blurted out.  “I swear to you I’m no thief.” The parson didn’t loosen his grip on the stick.  “I don’t believe Mister Smith is in the habit of setting his dogs on innocent strangers.” “It’s on account of the bell, the passing bell,” I said, and couldn’t help looking up at the tower that threw its shadow over us both.  The bell tower was just a rickety little thing by the measure of city churches, but the pool of gloom it cast over the churchyard seemed heavy and dark.  “His wife put him up to it, for she thinks it’s either him or me who’ll die tonight.” The parson came forward a little, then, and looked me up and down through his spectacles.  “I never knew the blacksmith’s age,” he said, as if speaking as much to himself as to me.  “I try not to know, you see.  But in a town so small, it’s hard not to be aware . . .”  He shook his head, and there was something closed in his expression.  “I think I had better see you out the gate,” he said. “The dogs are still out there,” I pointed out. “That’s really not my concern.” “And you a parson.” “I can’t stop what’s to come,” he said.  “You must understand that, you must see.  I’ve tried, sometimes, when I knew.  There was a girl, a child of thirteen . . . I sat up with her all night, in the church, and we prayed together.  She wept, and I told her to have faith, that the Lord would protect her.  And an hour before morning her fear overcame her, and she rose to flee.  I caught hold of her, I demanded she stay, I promised she would be safe.  I struggled with her.  And she fell, and her head struck the altar steps.  And God was silent.” He reached out and caught hold of my collar to march me toward the gates.  My hand rested on my knife, and then I took it away again, not sure if I could bring myself to stab a man of the cloth, even to make my escape.  “I don’t see why you can’t just resolve not to ring the bell anymore,” I said.  “If you don’t ring it in the morning . . .” “I did not ring it that night,” he said, still marching me along, as if by thrusting me out the gates he could banish the memory.  “I sat on the altar steps in misery, and at the first light, I heard the bell tolling.  It was little Johnnie Boots, the choirboy, who had taken it into his head to ring the bell for me as a kindness, since, as he said, I must have been taken ill.”  He paused before the high wooden gate, and outside I heard an eager chorus of barks, and then the even more ominous growling of dogs who see their aim in sight.  “There are some who have called for us to take down the bell,” he said.  I silently cheered on “some,” whoever they might be.  “But it is the Lord who put this curse on us, and when he judges us free of sin, he will take it away again.  When we have been made clean.”  His knuckles were white on his stick, and his eyes were on the horizon, as if he saw some horror there I couldn’t see.  “I have prayed, but of course my sinner’s prayers have not been answered,” he said.  “Pray now, and perhaps yours will be heard as mine have not been.” I put my hands together, although I had done precious little praying of any kind since I’d taken up my present life.  It sat badly with me to beg for my life anyway, like a craven captain pleading for quarter on his knees.  Dear Lord, I’ve been a wicked woman but a good seaman, I said silently.  You’ve winked at my deceit, and let me live when better men have died.  If you care for wicked women, as I’ve heard you did in life, show me one more trick to save my skin.  The parson was reaching for the gate, and I blurted out, “A moment more!” “You’ve had time for your prayers.” “A moment to wish my girl goodbye,” I said, and drew out the locket I carried.  It was a little tin thing with a half-penny sketch inside, but the boy who drew it had caught Minnie’s laughing eyes, and it was worth a fortune in gold to me.  She’d scolded me for going back to the sea, though it was my wages that kept her all the time I was away, and told me at some length that if I drowned she wouldn’t have a single prayer said for my worthless wayward soul. “You’ve had that as well,” the parson said, and reached for the latch on the gate.  I reached again for my knife, wondering if I could stick him without hurting him too much, and what the townsmen would do to me if they caught me after that.  Being hanged for stabbing a parson seemed even worse than being hacked apart for nothing. And then I had it, all at once, like a breath of wind snapping open a slack sail.  “One thing more!” I demanded.  “I had a traveling companion on the road, another sailor who took ill and died by the wayside.  I buried him as best I could, but I’d be easier in my mind if the passing bell were rung for him.  His name was Tom, and I know his age as well, for he told me at the end he was born twenty-six years ago to the day.”    The parson stood staring at me for a long moment.  “Do you expect me for one moment to believe such a story?” “Is it any of your business to doubt it?” I asked, and reached into my coat to draw out my purse.  “If I had come to you a week ago, would you have questioned whether there was a man named Tom or a roadside grave?”  “I would not,” he admitted.  I held out my purse to him, and while I’d like to believe he took it in pure gratitude for the escape I offered him, I can’t say that its weight didn’t figure in his decision as well. “Then go on and ring the passing bell for poor old Tom,” I said.  “For I think I have worn out my welcome in this town, or at least it has worn out its welcome with me, and I am eager to be on the road again.” I followed him to the foot of the tower stairs, and watched him ascend.  I waited until the sound of his steps told me he had gone a full turn of the stairs, and then started up after him, keeping my own steps quiet.  Even after everything that had happened, I was not entirely prepared for what I saw when I mounted to the bell-tower; the parson was heaving on the bell-rope, his back to me, and the bell was heaving as well, the clapper slamming into its sides hard enough that I could see its tremor, but no sound came from the bell, no sound at all.  The only sound was the wind, keening through the wide openings on all sides of the tower like a crying dog. I waited, breath held, until the bell made its final swing and the parson released the bellrope.  I scrambled around him, evading his surprised attempt to catch me back, and clambered up onto the beams that held the bell in place.  The bell was an old one, and held only by thick ropes, not by a heavy chain; it was the work of a moment to hack the stiff ropes in two. There was a clamor like brazen hounds baying in hell as the bell came crashing down.  It tumbled out the open side of the bell tower, clattering for a moment on its edge and then plunging toward the earth. “They do say the Lord helps those as help themselves,” I said, jumping down.  The parson crossed himself and backed away from me. “There’s some devil in you, and I’m not sure whether to try to cast it out or thank you for what you’ve done,” he said.  “Call it payment for all the hospitality I’ve had in this town,” I said.  “But now I must be away.”  I took off down the stairs at a run, and plunged out into the open air. I stopped short when I saw the bell lying fallen on the churchyard stones.  It was cracked and split, crumpled like the body of Mister Smith, who lay fallen beneath it, with his dogs circling round him, cringing now and whimpering. The parson came out after me, and made the sign of the cross over the dead blacksmith in silence.  “He was a good man,” he said after a while. “I expect he was,” I said.  “You mustn’t blame yourself.” “Nor will I,” I said, for it seemed the blacksmith had been doomed from the time the bell first sounded, and at least now the bell had rung its last. “But can I have my purse back, then?  I expect I can find a man to ring the passing bell for my old mate Tom somewhere considerably nearer home.” The parson gave me a look as he handed it over that I suppose I well deserved, but what can I say?  I’ve never claimed to be a good man, but I am Minnie’s best girl, and she’d been waiting patiently for me to bring her home my pay, and to come back to her safely from the sea. END   “The Passing Bell” was originally published in Temporally Out of Order and is copyright Amy Griswold, 2015. This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library. You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, or by leaving reviews on iTunes. Thanks for listening, and I’ll be back soon with a GlitterShip original.

EPISODE FIFTY!!!!!!!!!! We cannot believe we have made FIFTY of these things! It's insane! Thanks everyone for your support and your love. Looking forward to the next fifty! Please go rate and review us on iTunes SUPER IMPORTANT! https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/tale-two-hygienists-michelle/id1062738845?mt=2 To celebrate episode number 50, we bring you a special episode with a special offer (read more below)! In this episode we talk with Melissa and Nicole about the importance of networking. Both of them work for Young Dental as Territory Leads. We talk about Fluoride Varnishes, Handpieces, Ergonomics, and Selective Polishing. There is some really important things in this episode that you do not want to miss!!! Melissa Scott, RDH – MelissaScottRDH@icloud.com Melissa Scott graduated from the Caruth School of Dental Hygiene at Texas A&M College of Dentistry. She has been practicing clinical dental hygiene in the Dallas area for over 15 years. In addition to practicing clinical dental hygiene, Melissa serves as Lead Clinical Representative for Young Dental for the Southwest United States.   She has served on numerous leadership positions for both the Texas Dental Hygienists' Association and the Dallas Dental Hygienists' Society.   Melissa has served as a mentor for the mentoring program to Caruth Dental Hygiene students for many years.  She attributes her professional growth to the numerous mentors that have guided and encouraged her. Nicole Phillips, RDH NicolePhillipsRDH1@gmail.com Nicole Phillips, RDH is a 1996 graduate of the Southern Illinois University dental hygiene program. She currently practices clinically in downtown Chicago and serves as the North Central Lead Clinical Representative for Young Dental. Her company Phillsgood Events works with dental companies and associations to throw parties, fundraisers, fashion shows, and networking events for dental professionals. Nicole has written and presented programs on the practice of dental hygiene, dental sales, and focuses on jobs outside of clinical practice. Buy One Get One Free Special Offer!! Vera Angles or Advanced Bright Prophy Paste Submit your order with #PODCAST to Customer Service! http://askthedentist.com/how-often-should-i-go-to-the-dentist-for-a-teeth-cleaning/ www.youngdental.com http://www.youngdental.com/product-cat/prophy-angles/ http://www.youngdental.com/product-cat/handpieces/ http://www.youngdental.com/product/d-lish-5-sodium-fluoride-varnish/ http://www.youngdental.com/product-cat/prophy-paste/  

EPISODE FIFTY!!!!!!!!!! We cannot believe we have made FIFTY of these things! It's insane! Thanks everyone for your support and your love. Looking forward to the next fifty! Please go rate and review us on iTunes SUPER IMPORTANT! https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/tale-two-hygienists-michelle/id1062738845?mt=2 To celebrate episode number 50, we bring you a special episode with a special offer (read more below)! In this episode we talk with Melissa and Nicole about the importance of networking. Both of them work for Young Dental as Territory Leads. We talk about Fluoride Varnishes, Handpieces, Ergonomics, and Selective Polishing. There is some really important things in this episode that you do not want to miss!!! Melissa Scott, RDH – MelissaScottRDH@icloud.com Melissa Scott graduated from the Caruth School of Dental Hygiene at Texas A&M College of Dentistry. She has been practicing clinical dental hygiene in the Dallas area for over 15 years. In addition to practicing clinical dental hygiene, Melissa serves as Lead Clinical Representative for Young Dental for the Southwest United States.   She has served on numerous leadership positions for both the Texas Dental Hygienists’ Association and the Dallas Dental Hygienists’ Society.   Melissa has served as a mentor for the mentoring program to Caruth Dental Hygiene students for many years.  She attributes her professional growth to the numerous mentors that have guided and encouraged her. Nicole Phillips, RDH NicolePhillipsRDH1@gmail.com Nicole Phillips, RDH is a 1996 graduate of the Southern Illinois University dental hygiene program. She currently practices clinically in downtown Chicago and serves as the North Central Lead Clinical Representative for Young Dental. Her company Phillsgood Events works with dental companies and associations to throw parties, fundraisers, fashion shows, and networking events for dental professionals. Nicole has written and presented programs on the practice of dental hygiene, dental sales, and focuses on jobs outside of clinical practice. Buy One Get One Free Special Offer!! Vera Angles or Advanced Bright Prophy Paste Submit your order with #PODCAST to Customer Service! http://askthedentist.com/how-often-should-i-go-to-the-dentist-for-a-teeth-cleaning/ www.youngdental.com http://www.youngdental.com/product-cat/prophy-angles/ http://www.youngdental.com/product-cat/handpieces/ http://www.youngdental.com/product/d-lish-5-sodium-fluoride-varnish/ http://www.youngdental.com/product-cat/prophy-paste/  

Ross and Carrie continue their investigation of Pastor Melissa Scott and her late husband Gene by poring through hours of "Doc's" old sermons. Then they shove Carrie in Ross's trunk and go on a wild adventure. Plus, the devil keeps them out of church!

Ross and Carrie go to a church run by the mysterious Pastor Melissa Scott: questionable Bible scholar, secretive profiteer, and former porn star. Learn how she inherited the ministry from her late husband, and what Ross and Carrie found when they arrived.

Melissa Scott is the Director of Learning Design and Innovation at The Children's School. She has 20+ years of educational experience in both public and independent schools, and has worked as a classroom teacher and instructional technologist. Melissa collaborates closely with teachers and staff to provide authentic and innovative learning opportunities for students in grades… Read More » The post Melissa Scott: The Traveling Teacher appeared first on Gareth J Young.

The first installment of the 2014 Summer Sunset Series brought to you by Jason Jani. This weekday party hosted by Rico Caruso, Tolga Brogan and Melissa Scott, will be held each and every Monday on the Patio at Savor Lounge in Seaside Heights. Deep | Tech | House with some of the areas creative talent. Admission is limited to 250 people and the doors are open at 5pm. Jason Jani is one of the featured DJs that will be on deck for the opening party on Monday May 26th, 2014 - Memorial Day.

Traci Castleberry, Matt Cresswell and Melissa Scott joined me to discuss diversity with a focus on how to include gender and sexually diverse characters. The ... The post Queer is not all that hard: on writing LGBT characters appeared first on Dark Matter Zine.

The Unheard Voices of Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror panel from Arisia. Catherine Lundoff moderated this panel, with K. Tempest Bradford (standing in for Nisi Shawl), Julia Rios, Trisha Wooldridge, Andrea Hairston, and Victor Raymond. Listening to this doesn't give you the visual cues that people in the room had, so a note up front: Nisi was in the audience, but wasn't up for sitting on the panel. There was an ongoing joke about Tempest being Nisi, and about Nisi being Nalo Hopkinson, who was not at the convention. Awards season!*Lambda finalists include lots of OA members like Nicola Griffith, Sacchi Green, Mary Ann Mohanraj, Alex Jeffers, Alaya Dawn Johnson, The editors and contributors to Ghosts in Gaslight, Monsters in Steam Gay City: Volume 5, Melissa Scott and Amy Griswold, Richard Bowes, Lee Thomas, and more. Full list here: http://www.lambdaliterary.org/features/news/03/06/26th-annual-lambda-literary-award-finalists-announced/*The Nebula nominee list is also out, and lots of OA types are there too, including Sofia Samatar, Nicola Griffith, Ellen Klages and Andy Duncan, Vylar Kaftan, Catherynne Valente, Christopher Barzak, Alaya Dawn Johnson, Sarah Pinsker, Rachel Swirsky, Karen Healey, and Nalo Hopkinson. Full nominee list here: http://www.sfwa.org/2014/02/2013-nebula-nominees-announced/The Galactic Suburbia Award and Honor List is out now, and the joint winners are N.K. Jemisin and Elise Matthesen. Full Honor List here: http://galactisuburbia.podbean.com/2014/03/23/episode-96-19-march-2014/*Carl Brandon Society is a group for fans and writers of color. They give out the Kindred and Parallax Awards for fiction by and/or about people of colors, and also administer scholarships for students of color to attend Clarion.*Broad Universe is a group for women who write and publish science fiction and fantasy. They have a website, a podcast, and many promotional and support networking opportunities for members, including organizing group readings and book sale tables at conventions. *WisCon is a feminist science fiction convention held each year at the end of May in Madison, Wisconsin. The Carl Brandon Society and Broad Universe both have strong presences there. *Con or Bust is an organization that raises money to send fans of color to conventions. The Carl Brandon Society administers the funds. *Gaylaxicon and Outlantacon are conventions specifically for the QUILTBAG SF fandom community. Gaylaxicon is a roving con (like WorldCon), and Outlantacon happens each year in May in Atlanta. This year's Gaylaxicon will be hosted by Outlantacon.Work by people on the panel:*Filter House is Nisi Shawl's Tiptree Award Winning short story collection (Tempest joked that her collection would be called Filter House 2).*Redwood and Wildfire is Andrea Hairston's Tiptree Award Winning novel (for which she had also just received a Carl Brandon Award on the day of this panel).*Silver Moon is Catherine Lundoff's novel about menopausal werewolves*Catherine writes a series about LGBT SFF for SF Signal.*Julia is an editor for Strange Horizons, which is always interested in publishing diverse voices.*Kaleidoscope is an anthology of diverse YA SF and Fantasy stories Julia is co-editing with Alisa Krasnostein, which is scheduled to launch in August of 2014.*In Other Words is an anthology of poetry and flash by writers of color Julia is co-editing with Saira Ali, which is scheduled to launch at WisCon in May, and which will benefit Con or Bust.Other things mentioned: *Lorraine Hansberry was an African American lesbian playwright, best known for Raisin in the Sun, but Andrea pointed out that she also wrote a lot of science fiction plays. *The SFWA Bulletin incited a lot of pushback in 2013. Here is a timeline: http://www.slhuang.com/blog/2013/07/02/a-timeline-of-the-2013-sfwa-controversies/. It has since changed editorial staff and has just put out the first of the new team's issues, which seems to be a lot more favorably received, as evidenced here: http://www.jasonsanford.com/jason/2014/03/the-new-sfwa-bulletin-is-blowing-my-mind.html.*"The Serial Killer's Astronaut Daughter" by Damien Angelica Walters was written partly in response to the SFWA bulletin's sexism. *A Stranger in Olondria by Sofia Samatar came up as an example of a novel by a person of color put out through an independent (not one of the big New York houses--Andrea argued for calling these sorts of publishers independent rather than small) publisher, Small Beer Press. Since the panel, A Stranger in Olondria has won the Crawford Award and been nominated for the Nebula. *Crossed Genres, Twelfth Planet Press, and Papaveria Press are independent presses that publish diverse voices.*Clarkesworld, Lightspeed, Strange Horizons, and Apex are magazines Tempest sees publishing diverse stories. Tor.com is also publishing more diverse stories now, like "The Water That Falls on You From Nowhere" by John Chu. *The Tiptree Award celebrates work that expands our notions of gender.*Dark Matter is an anthology exploring a century of SF by black writers. *Blood Children was an anthology put out by the Carl Brandon Society in 213 to benefit the Octavia Butler Scholarship, which sends students of color to Clarion. *Bending the Landscape, Kindred Spirits, and Worlds Apart were brought up as examples of QUILTBAG anthologies from more than just a few years back. All of these were mentioned as early examples, but the panel agreed we need more. *Daughters of Earth is a collection of stories by women from the early 1900s to 2000 with accompanying critical essays. This collection is edited by Justine Larbalestier. Andrea wrote a critical essay about an Octavia Butler story in this book. *The Cascadia Subduction Zone has a feature where an established writer recommends and reviews an older work that might be obscure. Andrea and Nisi have both done this. *Lethe Press publishes best gay SF stories each year in Wilde Stories, and best lesbian SF stories each year in Heiresses of Russ. Nisi and Julia are both in Heiresses of Russ 2013.*From the audience, Saira Ali recommends Goblin Fruit and Stone Telling as diverse poetry magazines, and Aliens: Recent Encounters (edited by Alex Dally MacFarlane) as a good anthology.

David and Diana take the podcast to a recent panel at TimeGate con in Atlanta, bringing in Stargate author Melissa Scott to discuss writing media tie-in novels.