Podcasts about Tabat

Beasts of Tabat.Mythical beasts. Legendary gladiators. The fate of a boy entwined with epic revolution. When countryboy Teo arrives in the coastal city of Tabat, he finds it a hostile place, particularly to a boy hiding an enormous secret. It's also a city in turmoil, thanks to an ancient accord to change governments and the rising demands of Beasts, the Unicorns, Dryads, Minotaurs and other magical creature on whose labor and bodies Tabat depends. And worst of all, it's a city dedicated to killing Shifters, the race whose blood Teo bears. When his fate becomes woven with that of Tabat's most famous gladiator, Bella Kanto, his existence becomes even more imperiled. Kanto's magical battle determines the weather each year, and the wealthy merchants are tired of the long winters she's brought. Can Teo and Bella save each other from the plots that are closing in on them from all sides?

"A Savana e a Montanha" é uma longa metragem do português Paulo Carneiro em exibição na Quinzena dos cineastas, mostra paralela do Festival de cinema de Cannes. Trata-se de um western que retrata a luta da população de Covas do Barrroso, em Trás-os-Montes, nordeste de Portugal... contra o projecto da maior mina de exploração de lítio da Europa, denunciando as consequências para o meio ambiente e os habitantes. O cineasta Paulo Carneiro começa por se referir à sua presença neste prestigioso certame de cinema do sul da França, onde é candidato com "A savana e a montanha" à distinção "Oeil d'Or"."Para nós foi muito importante, porque este filme serve também, desde o início, é uma espécie de um contrato com as pessoas de Covas do Barroso. Era um bocado a ideia de amplificar a luta, aquilo que se está a passar ali na região, porque é algo que de uma grandeza muito, megalómana que nas cidades, mesmo em Portugal, ninguém quase tem ideia do que é. E estar aqui em Cannes acho que pode ajudar bastante ao filme, pode ajudar bastante à causa. Acho que o cinema não tem a capacidade de mudar nada, mas pelo menos que faça com que as pessoas possam discutir o assunto. E depois, quer dizer, as autoridades competentes lá, talvez de alguma maneira tenham a capacidade de reflectir sobre o que se está a passar e aquilo que querem impor a estas gentes, que é o que mostra o filme e que acho que é um bom microfone para isso."É uma matéria prima que serviu também para uma curta metragem portuguesa que está em exibição precisamente aqui na Quinzena dos Cineastas. Refiro-me à obra do Frederico Lobo "Quando a terra foge". Portanto, é possível vir a explorar-se o lítio em Trás-os -Montes, precisamente como dizia em Covas do Barroso, não muito longe da família do seu lado paterno.Você já tinha feito um filme sobre o seu avô, o "Bostofrio", não muito longe de lá. É um filme militante, pergunto eu? E porquê a opção por um western ?"Na verdade é curioso: eu soube do filme do Frederico quando houve a Selecção porque eu não sabia que o Frederico estava a fazer um filme ali, em Trás-os-Montes, a região do Barroso, que são dois concelhos, Boticas e Montalegre. Curiosamente, o Frederico filma em Montalegre e eu filmei em Boticas, o meu pai, é ali efectivamente de perto de Covas do Barroso, de Bostofrio, que fica a cinco quilómetros. Ou seja, é um sítio que eu já conhecia. Quando se começou a especular um bocado em relação a isto, eu ainda não estava tão informado. Tentei-me informar bastante antes mesmo de avançar para a região. Não para fazer um filme. Mas no início o objectivo era criar algum conteúdo para a internet para, de certa maneira, poder partilhar com outras pessoas, como tinha dito, anteriormente, na cidade. Parece-me importante que nós tenhamos a capacidade de nos rirmos de nós mesmos. Acho que o cinema é sério, é um trabalho sério, mas acho que é importante também não nos levarmos, por vezes tão a sério e conseguirmos rirmo-nos de nós mesmos. E foi daí que parte também a ideia do western. As próprias pessoas de Covas do Barroso encetaram esta coisa dos indígenas contra os cowboys, os cowboys contra os indígenas e de repente fizeram esse jogo. Começámos a escrever juntos e perceber de que forma é que as coisas no filme poderiam funcionar para caminhar para o lado do western, mantendo, ainda assim, uma sobriedade de um filme que, apesar de ser um filme militante, acho que continua a querer trabalhar muito. esta ideia do que para nós é o cinema. O gesto de cinema e a forma, e não relegando apenas para o canto do cinema militante, porque, parece-me a mim, muitas vezes, a ideia que surge com com o cinema militante é uma coisa muito de gueto, muito filmada, com uma forma que não interessa tanto e nós tentamos contrariar isso."Porém, as mensagens são muito claras: "A hora é de morrer ou de matar."  "Agora é hora de lutar !" "A voz do povo". Como é que foi escolher as músicas? Como é que foi trabalhar com o Carlos Libo ?"Na verdade, sim. Eu não nego que seja um filme militante. Só não o empurro para o gueto porque acho que é um filme de cinema, no sentido da forma. Só apenas isso. O Carlos Libo foi uma descoberta no início, quando começámos a ir a Covas do Barroso, frequentemente íamos filmando os conteúdos, que é o que se diz de conteúdos, não é para as redes sociais ? Descobrimos o Carlos Libo e eu percebi que ele gostava muito de ler e gostava muito de Zé Mário Branco, do Zeca Afonso. E encontrávamo-nos lá na carrinha dele, das abelhas, os livros do [Miguel] Torga e comecei a perguntar... Depois vi que tinha uma guitarra e começámos a perceber que ele tocava e compunha umas coisas. E instigando-o a criar umas músicas, não pensando que fossem músicas para o filme. Porque são músicas que são filmadas e gravadas ainda antes da existência da próprio ideia de um filme. E depois quer dizer, tudo muito orgânico e com naturalidade. Queríamos criar e quisemos... Não sei se está criado, se não ? Mas quisemos criar este músico que fosse um músico de referência para a luta ali, na região do Barroso, contra a mineração. E que já se amplificou e que já as músicas dele são palavras tidas em conta quando há manifestações sobre sobre outras explorações noutras regiões do país."E como é que se articulou a constituição do elenco para este filme?"Na verdade, a constituição do elenco também foi com muita naturalidade. São as pessoas que estão mais engajadas na luta. Acabam por ser as pessoas que também acabam por se engajar mais no filme. A comprometer -se mais no sentido que para elas era importante a forma que o filme poderia potenciar ou mostrar aquilo que se estava a passar foi muito natural."E aquele debate entre:  "Isto pode constituir oportunidades de emprego para uma terra que tantas necessidades tem." E, eventualmente, a destruição que isso implicará efectivamente para o património natural local, não é? Eu gostaria também que recuasse um bocadinho no tempo. Eu sei que há cerca de dez anos fazia uma curta metragem na Guiné-Bissau. "Água para Tabatô" e os problemas que ocorriam com uma embarcação. Como é que foi esse projecto que o levou à África Ocidental e à Guiné-Bissau?"Eu, na verdade, fui à Guiné-Bissau a trabalhar enquanto assistente de realização num outro filme. Esse filme a que que se está a referir é um filme com 40 e algo minutos e foi uma coisa que aconteceu efectivamente que eu vivi. Ou seja, não foi... também não foi muito planeado e acaba por ser um episódio que aconteceu, mas eu tenho em mim. Sim, isso acontece mesmo. E é o chamado cinema à "vérité", não é? E, na verdade. Quer dizer, depois isso foi durante a rodagem do outro filme em que eu estava a trabalhar como assistente. E depois quer dizer, as minhas ligações com África sempre foram muito próximas porque acabo por ficar com amigos. Alguns estão em Lisboa, outros ainda vivem na Guiné. Eu já fui à Guiné várias vezes e a outros países africanos, tudo um bocado também a trabalhar noutras áreas de cinema e quer dizer, festivais de cinema. Foi acontecendo."No "Bostofrio" já falava, então, da terra da sua costela paterna, não é? Em "Via Norte" você decidiu mesmo ir até à Suíça e falar, nomeadamente do apetite por muitos imigrantes portugueses, pelos automóveis e pelos bólides, não é? Agora, tem "A savana e a montanha". Tem, também, a sua própria produtora. Trabalha muito com o Uruguai. Sei que teve dificuldades para conseguir financiamentos e, uma vez mais, eles vêm também do Uruguai. Como é que isto se articula?"Na verdade o que acontece é que no cinema nós estamos todos muito... Trabalhamos muito com o coração. Não temos uma estratégia muito definida de como é que vamos... É um bocado e as pessoas querem estar perto umas das outras e as coisas vão surgindo. Eu conheço o Alex: o Alex Piperno, co-produtor, em 2019 quando mostro o Bostofrio no Festival do Uruguai. E depois encontrámo-nos novamente na Berlinale. Eu estava no "Talents", que é um programa de talentos do Festival de Berlim e o Alex estava a mostrar o seu primeiro filme no Festival de Berlim. Encontrámo-nos aí novamente. Começámos a discutir ideias de cinema durante a pandemia. Fomos falando sempre muito, muito, muito activa a discussão. E achámos que podia ser uma possibilidade. Os filmes que nos interessa são os mesmos. Ainda nos interessa mais a forma do que a história do que a narrativa. Queremos procurar novas maneiras, se quisermos, de fazer filmes. E abriu-se uma possibilidade: o Uruguai teve interesse. Acaba por financiar este filme. O filme teve financiamento da Câmara de Boticas e do Uruguai. Foi três vezes rejeitado no apoio à pós-produção. Nós não concorremos à produção, ao ICA (Instituto [português] do cinema e do audiovisual), porque, efectivamente, era um temática urgente e não dava para esperar. E foi começar a filmar e fomos fazendo o filme assim. Esta última vez que foi negado foi a mesma montagem que foi aqui aceite na Quinzena. Ficámos quase em último lugar no apoio à pós produção do ICA. Mas quer dizer: os filmes são o que são, têm a vida que têm. E não é por não termos um apoio do Instituto de Cinema que que iríamos desistir. Foi muito difícil, mesmo estar presente aqui em Cannes. Mas quer dizer, agora vamos para a frente e seguiremos com outros projectos, independentemente do que aconteça. Já temos financiamento também para o próximo filme, que temos apoio do Uruguai e aí temos o apoio do ICA, apesar de nos terem só financiado metade do montante a dividir com outro projecto. Mas, quer dizer, acho que o cinema deve ser pago e nós pagamos às pessoas, mas também não vai ser por não ter o apoio do ICA que não vamos fazer o filme."E há boas notícias, não é? O filme vai estrear em França, já é uma garantia, não é?"Sim, sim. Nós assinámos a distribuição comercial."Cannes está a dar já bons frutos !"Sim, sim, acho que sim.E acho que era isso que nós queríamos na verdade, poder mostrar o filme em mais sítios. E estamos muito contentes com isso, obviamente."Conhece bem esta região. Já houve um governo português que acabou por cair, o do governo socialista de António Costa, indirectamente por causa da exploração do lítio. Qual é o diagnóstico que faz de como estão os habitantes desta área actualmente em 2024? É de pessimismo ? Porque já vimos os pareceres da Agência Ambiental, contraditórios... E o projecto vai para a frente. Eles estão derrotistas ? Como é que eles se posicionam neste momento?"O que acontece é que quanto à queda do governo, o nosso filme já estava rodado. Já tínhamos até terminado a montagem. Ou seja, não houve essa intenção. O que eu verifiquei e acho que também é importante referir isso !O que eu verifiquei é que a nível municipal, tanto em Montalegre como em Covas, em Boticas, o que eu verifiquei e continuo a afirmar com muita força é que, de repente não há forças. Ou seja... nestas regiões, que são coisas muito concretas, em que a própria própria instituição "Câmara Municipal" está tão próxima das pessoas do género... o partido parece que fica mais esquecido. Ou seja, não é porque, sei lá ! É quase como dizer: pode ser oposição, sendo ou não sendo a oposição. O presidente da Câmara... neste momento, o lítio, a exploração do lítio, continua a ser uma prioridade para o novo governo AD. Mas o presidente da Câmara Municipal faz parte, tem a mesma cor e não é por isso que dá um passo atrás. Portanto, eu acho que isso é importante referir, até porque em Montalegre era o oposto e também não dá um passo atrás. E isso é importante.  Nos municípios há muito esta política, muito de proximidade."Como é que as pessoas agora, neste momento, olham para o projecto da Savannah Resources, se ele vai mesmo acabar por avançar, se a serra vai continuar a ser destruída ?"O que o que acontece é que neste momento existem máquinas que estão no vale. Foram feitas prospecções. Não se iniciou a extracção. Há máquinas no vale e eles estão a fazer. As pessoas vão estar cá em Cannes... Mas há outras pessoas lá da aldeia que estão a fazer piquete. Há uma tabela com horários e as pessoas estão a fazer piquete para as máquinas não avançarem para cima dos baldios. Porque a empresa quer avançar e estão numa luta de que os terrenos que são da empresa e os terrenos que são parte do baldio. O baldio ainda é nacional, mas é gerido pelas pessoas dali que têm os seus direitos. E enquanto não houver uma espécie de uma nacionalização e... toda a gente vai lutar contra isso, obviamente. A luta agora faz-se no terreno. Então existem piquetes, há uma máquina. Às vezes estão a jogar às cartas com a própria pessoa que trabalha, que trabalharia nessa máquina... que não está a trabalhar. Porque quer dizer isto também há um filme que é isso. É um filme que trabalha nos cinzentos. Não é porque os trabalhadores que estão com a Savannah [Resources, empresa britânica encarregada da prospecção do lítio] também são povo. Também são de outras aldeias ali perto. Nós nunca vemos o Golias, não é? E essa é uma das grandes coisas do capitalismo."

#週三女孩日 每週10分鐘用聽的認識一位改變世界的女性！ podcast『 5歲都要懂的國際觀 』 https://yeslara.com/podcast_平台 --------- 在這段時間裡，我有幸遇到了許多女性企業家，我們互相鼓勵，攜手前進。這真的是一段難忘的經歷。原本，我打算在今天分享關於今年諾貝爾和平獎得主、來自伊朗的穆哈馬迪的故事。但在我開始寫之前，我看到了一張1885年的照片，照片中是三位來自印度、敘利亞和日本的女性，她們都是當時全女子醫學大學的畢業生，並且在回國後，成為了第一批女性醫生。這張照片深深地打動了我，所以我決定改變今天的主題，與大家分享這三位女性的故事。 這三位女性分別是：Dr. Keiko Okami、Dr. Anandabai Joshi 和 Dr. Tabat Islamboli。她們在1885年畢業於賓夕法尼亞州的女子醫學大學。這所學校在1850年由一群醫生和社會改革者創立，目的是為女性提供醫學教育。當時的美國女性還沒有選舉權，但已經有人認識到女性在醫學領域的重要性，所以他們決定創立這所學校。 這三位女性都有著各自的故事。Dr. Joshi 來自印度，她在很年輕的時候就結婚並生子，但不幸的是，她的孩子很快就去世了。這使她決定學習醫學，希望能夠幫助更多的人。Dr. Okami 來自日本，她在美國學習醫學後，回到日本並開設了自己的診所。而 Dr. Islamboli 來自敘利亞，但關於她的資料非常有限。 這三位女性的故事都非常感人，她們在那個時代，面對著種種困難，但都沒有放棄。她們用自己的努力，為女性爭取了更多的權利和機會。我希望她們的故事能夠激勵更多的人，不管是男性還是女性，都能夠為自己的夢想而努力。 雖然我今天沒有介紹諾貝爾和平獎得主，但我相信，每一個人都有自己的故事，都值得被尊重和欣賞。希望大家都能夠珍惜自己，並且勇敢地追求自己的夢想。 ********** podcast『 5歲都要懂的國際觀 https://yeslara.com/podcast_平台 節目宗旨： #國際觀無感置入腦袋 #5歲都聽得懂的國際新聞 #給孩子聽的國際觀 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - #herstory #she #herpower #週三女孩日 #母親節 #shepersisted #她堅持 #tbt #1885 #oldphoto #老照片 #女醫生 #KeikoOkami #AnandabaiJoshi #TabatIslamboli #Indiandoctor #Syriandoctor #Japanesedoctor #femaledoctor 留言告訴我你對這一集的想法： https://open.firstory.me/user/ckdfjls64vzob0804ysg8nyp2/comments Powered by Firstory Hosting

Every week, we are highlighting a panel from TBRCon2023, looking back on the amazing variety of panels that we had the honor of hosting. This week, join moderator/author Jonathan Nevair and authors Cat Rambo, Ruthanna Emrys, Matt Kressel and Sarena Ulibarri for a TBRCon2023 author panel on "Hopepunk & Optimistic Futures." SUPPORT THE SHOW: - ⁠⁠⁠Patreon⁠⁠⁠ (for exclusive bonus episodes, author readings, book giveaways and more) - ⁠⁠⁠Merch shop⁠⁠⁠ (for a selection of tees, tote bags, mugs, notebooks and more) - Subscribe to the ⁠⁠⁠FanFiAddict YouTube channel⁠⁠⁠, where this and every other episode of the show is available in full video - Rate and review SFF Addicts on your platform of choice, and share us with your friends EMAIL US WITH YOUR QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: ⁠⁠⁠sffaddictspod@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠ ABOUT THE PANELISTS: Jonathan Nevair is an art historian and professor, as well as the author of The Wind Tide Trilogy and Stellar Instinct. Find Jonathan on Twitter, Amazon or his personal website. Cat Rambo is a Nebula Award-winning F&SF writer/editor/teacher. Their works include You Sexy Thing, Beasts of Tabat and more. Find Cat on ⁠Twitter⁠, ⁠Amazon⁠ or ⁠their personal website⁠. Ruthanna Emrys is a science fiction and fantasy writer best known for A Half-Built Garden and The Innsmouth Legacy series (The Litany of Earth, Winter Tide, and Deep Roots). Find Ruthanna on ⁠Twitter⁠, ⁠Amazon⁠ or ⁠her personal website⁠. Matthew Kressel is the award-nominated author of the Worldmender series, as well as an abundance of short stories. Find Matt on Twitter, Amazon or his personal website. Sarena Ulibarri is s a speculative fiction author and editor. As an anthologist, she has curated and published Glass and Gardens: Solarpunk Summers, Glass and Gardens: Solarpunk Winters, and Multispecies Cities: Solarpunk Urban Futures. Find Sarena on ⁠Twitter⁠, ⁠Amazon⁠ or ⁠her personal website⁠. FOLLOW SFF ADDICTS: ⁠⁠⁠FanFiAddict Book Blog⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠Twitter⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠ MUSIC: Intro: "⁠⁠⁠Into The Grid⁠⁠⁠" by MellauSFX Outro: “⁠⁠⁠Galactic Synthwave⁠⁠⁠” by Divion --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/sff-addicts/message

Re-salut, voici une méthode pour cesser de fumer. Bonne écoute!

BE LIKE HER LIKE On WILLI HIGH LIVE Reflection - Tabat- by Ralph Barba

Entrepreneurs like you are the change-makers of the world. You do good things and have a lot of impact, and change your families and clients' lives. It starts with you, but look at your life right now. Are you doing what you want to be doing? Does it energize you and make you happy? Do you ask yourself to reveal the answer and listen to the answer that you have given? What are the roadblocks that stop you from taking the leap? Danya Douglas Hunt  is a former Olympic Athletic Therapist & Strength and Conditioning coach turned multi-passionate entrepreneur. Her main focus is helping high performing entrepreneurs master the inner game, build mental and emotional fortitude and slay the “invisible dragons” (self sabotage, fear, limiting beliefs etc) holding them back from their next level of income, impact and inner peace. She is YES SUPPLY certified Neuro-Linguistic Programing Practitioner (NLP), Life + Success Coach, TIME Techniques™ Practitioner, Clinical Hypnotherapist and an Emotional Freedom Techniques facilitator (EFT). Outside of her own business, she is trained and coaches for James Wedmore, a few other masterminds, and does Performance coaching for Purelife Organics. She has been featured on multiple platforms such as MSNBC, NBC, CBS, various publications and every podcast platform, check out more on her website. When she isn't coaching, you can find her either lifting, kickin someone's butt in settlers of catan, or adventuring outside on a beach or mountains with tea and her big dog named Tabat.  This week's Healthcare Hacks and Connection, Nathan Navas and Danya Douglas Hunt will talk about the hyped-up entrepreneurs to help them master their inner game and build their mental fortitude and emotional strength to slay their invisible dragons that are holding them back from going to the next level of scaling to make more impact in the community. They will touch on such topics as:Many of us are not taught about how our minds work. Everything starts in your mind.Mindset either makes or breaks people. It either helps them achieve their dreams or keeps them stuck in their place.The fear of the unknown is what's holding you back.Only you can know what you truly want and what's causing you trouble in life. What you do about that is up to you.People have 6,000 to 8,000 thoughts a day subconsciously. Over 80% of those thoughts are negative—it is not because you are a bad person or your brain doesn't like you. Your brain is designed to look out for threats and survive while constantly looking at what's in front of you and matching it to what happened in the past, predicting what may happen to you in the present.Your thoughts are not yours. They are passed down to you or remodeled around you.Getting present creates a space for you to observe your thoughts, and it gives you the chance to redirect your attention to something you want to do.You don't have to accept what's going on in your life. You absolutely can change things, and you have to start thinking differently. Hack: Every strategy out there works no matter what you do, but the thing is, you need to recognize what is going to work for you. It comes down to trusting and knowing yourself. Additional Resources:Reach out to Danya:Social: Instagram: @danyadouglashuntTikTok: @danyadouglashunt Reach out to Me:Socials:Instagram: @thepodcast_docFacebook: www.facebook.com/nate.navas Affiliates:physiomemes.com (Discount code = Nate20)www.poddecks.com (Discount code = PODDOC)

On the show today I had the pleasure of talking to Cat Rambo. She is a very authentic author who loves to help others in the biz. Check out the Rambo Academy for Wayward Writers Critclub. http://www.kittywumpus.net/blog/join-the-chez-rambo-community-for-fsf-writers-critclub/ Also, she has the Tabat series which the 3rd book is coming out in 2021, Website http://www.kittywumpus.net/ Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Cat-Rambo/e/B002LFMXGG Social Media https://www.facebook.com/catrambo https://twitter.com/catrambo Youtube https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCv9iUujAbeQ4G6QN1OSqgkg Cat Rambo lives, writes, and edits in the Pacific Northwest. Her work has appeared in such places as Asimov's, Weird Tales, and Strange Horizons. She was the fiction editor of award-winning Fantasy Magazine (http://www.fantasy-magazine.com) and appeared on the World Fantasy Award ballot in 2012 for that work. Her story "Five Ways to Fall in Love on Planet Porcelain" was a 2012 Nebula Award finalist. John Barth described Cat Rambo's writings as "works of urban mythopoeia" -- her stories take place in a universe where chickens aid the lovelorn, Death is just another face on the train, and Bigfoot gives interviews to the media on a daily basis. She has worked as a programmer-writer for Microsoft and a Tarot card reader, professions which, she claims, both involve a certain combination of technical knowledge and willingness to go with the flow. In 2005 she attended the Clarion West Writers' Workshop. In 2007, her collaboration with Jeff VanderMeer, The Surgeon's Tale and Other Stories, appeared, while her first solo collection, Eyes Like Sky and Coal and Moonlight, was published in August of 2009 and was an Endeavour Award finalist. In 2012, her collection Near + Far appeared from Hydra House as well as a novella, A Seed Upon the Wind, as part of the Fathomless Abyss collaborative project. Her first novel, Beasts of Tabat, appeared in early 2015 from Wordfire Press, and the sequel, Hearts of Tabat, as well as story collection Neither Here Nor There, will appear later this year. A frequent volunteer with the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, she is currently its president. Her most recent nonfiction work is Ad Astra: The SFWA 50th Anniversary Cookbook, co-edited with Fran Wilde.

durée : 00:01:13 - L'Oc Express

In our final episode, we discuss Cixin Liu's story "The Wandering Earth" with Chinese author and professor Xia Jia. We talk about her first collection, currently being translated to English via Neil Clarke (of Clarkesworld). And we discuss the Golden Age of SF (in America), the current SF boom in China, and what it's like making an SF movie in China. We also make a big announcement about our new podcast If This Goes On (Don't Panic) coming out early in 2020. My guest co-host for this episode is, fittingly, Cat Rambo, author of Hearts of Tabat and many others Books reviewed: Radiance by Catherynne Valente

In this episode, we explore flash fiction and future trends in Science Fiction with Josh Hrala and Patrick Morris, the editors of Pittsburgh based Flash Fiction Magazine The Arcanist.  Stories include "Jed Thule is a Coward" by Brad Preslar and "Throwing Static" by JW Bell. Both stories can be found at The Arcanist: https://thearcanist.io/about.   Reviews include Hearts of Tabat by Cat Rambo

Livet har forskellige sæsoner, men vi har det med at planlægge livet som om, vi: A: Har kontrol over detB: Har et liv, der barer kører derud af på et fint og lige spor I virkeligheden er det sjældent, sådan livet former sig, og det er nok en god ting, hvis vi gerne vil blive klogere og mere hele mennesker.   #35 Tager du højde for, at dit liv har sæsoner? Men... det kan også gøre ondt, når tingene ikke går, som vi forventer eller føler os klar til. Det kan hjælpe at minde os selv om, at livet forandrer sig konstant, og at det er naturligt med forskellige overgange og faser. Det er svært at give slip men nødvendigt for at gøre plads til det nye. I denne episode taler jeg om livets forskellige sæsoner, og jeg kommer ind på: Hvordan livet er delt ind i sæsonerHvorfor stress ofte opstår i kølvandet på svære sæsonerAt vi glemmer at skabe ro og rum til sæsonskiftHvorfor det kan være svært at stoppe op efter en svær periodeAt vi mangler ydre ritualer, der kan markere store skift og tabAt vi nogle gange hager os fast i sæsoner, der egentlig er forbiHvordan manglen på stabile relationer gør det sværere at komme igennem sæsonskiftHvad der har båret mig igennem svære sæsonskift i mit eget livOg andet godt:) Lyt til episoden her: Klik her, for at læse mere om mit nyeste onlinebaseret stressforløb "RO". Jeg håber, du blev inspireret - del gerne, hvis du kender én, der også kunne have gavn af at lytte

This week, fantasy author and SFWA president Cat Rambo joined us on the show, and we grilled her about writing and selling short fiction, her experience at the Clarion West Writers’ Workshop, what SFWA is doing for authors these days, and her latest novel, Hearts of Tabat. Among other things! Here are some of the specifics we covered: How Cat

Cat Rambo‘s Hearts of Tabat (WordFire Press, 2018) is rich in emotions and description, though it revolves around a murder mystery as well. We experience the imaginary port city of Tabat through the eyes of four narrators, two merchants and two siblings from a poor household.  Adelina, the secret publisher of a newspaper, and Sebastiano, a member of the Mages’ College who handles trade negotiations, both come from Merchant families with high expectations. Neither Sebastiano’s critical father, or Adelina’s overbearing mother, are pleased with the careers their offspring have chosen. Into their lives come two people from a very different background, Eloquence and his sister Obedience. Like most of the poor, they worship at the Moon Temples, and therefore receive names based on personality traits. While Eloquence, who has the good fortune to become a fresh-water pilot, does have a gift with words, Obedience doesn’t fit her name. She struggles to escape the miserable apprenticeship the Temple finds for her. As the novel begins, Adelina is still obsessed with her former lover, the famous female gladiator, Bella Canto. When she meets the charming Eloquence, it seems she might finally move on. But will Eloquence’s rigid ideas about his younger sister, Obedience, ruin their relationship? Though Hearts of Tabat has romantic elements, it offers suspense against a background of political unrest. The book plays out against a richly developed world, one in which mythical animals serve mankind and fuel machines. Revolutionary ideas about the magical beasts are developing; the murders that take place serve as a testament to that. Far from being mere “beasts”, the wonderful magical creatures that populate Cat Rambo’s world have feelings and needs that human society will ignore at its peril. Gabrielle Mathieu is the author of the historical fantasy Falcon series (The Falcon Flies Alone, and the upcoming The Falcon Strikes.) She blogs about travel and her books at http://gabriellemathieu.com/. You can also follow her on Twitter to get updates about new podcasts and more: @GabrielleAuthor. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Cat Rambo‘s Hearts of Tabat (WordFire Press, 2018) is rich in emotions and description, though it revolves around a murder mystery as well. We experience the imaginary port city of Tabat through the eyes of four narrators, two merchants and two siblings from a poor household.  Adelina, the secret publisher of a newspaper, and Sebastiano, a member of the Mages’ College who handles trade negotiations, both come from Merchant families with high expectations. Neither Sebastiano’s critical father, or Adelina’s overbearing mother, are pleased with the careers their offspring have chosen. Into their lives come two people from a very different background, Eloquence and his sister Obedience. Like most of the poor, they worship at the Moon Temples, and therefore receive names based on personality traits. While Eloquence, who has the good fortune to become a fresh-water pilot, does have a gift with words, Obedience doesn’t fit her name. She struggles to escape the miserable apprenticeship the Temple finds for her. As the novel begins, Adelina is still obsessed with her former lover, the famous female gladiator, Bella Canto. When she meets the charming Eloquence, it seems she might finally move on. But will Eloquence’s rigid ideas about his younger sister, Obedience, ruin their relationship? Though Hearts of Tabat has romantic elements, it offers suspense against a background of political unrest. The book plays out against a richly developed world, one in which mythical animals serve mankind and fuel machines. Revolutionary ideas about the magical beasts are developing; the murders that take place serve as a testament to that. Far from being mere “beasts”, the wonderful magical creatures that populate Cat Rambo’s world have feelings and needs that human society will ignore at its peril. Gabrielle Mathieu is the author of the historical fantasy Falcon series (The Falcon Flies Alone, and the upcoming The Falcon Strikes.) She blogs about travel and her books at http://gabriellemathieu.com/. You can also follow her on Twitter to get updates about new podcasts and more: @GabrielleAuthor. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Cat Rambo‘s Hearts of Tabat (WordFire Press, 2018) is rich in emotions and description, though it revolves around a murder mystery as well. We experience the imaginary port city of Tabat through the eyes of four narrators, two merchants and two siblings from a poor household.  Adelina, the secret publisher of... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Top five news stories of 2017 2017 has come to an end, here are the biggest headlines in Israel from the past year. I.D.F. retaliates against Gaza rockets Fresh rocket attacks from the Gaza strip have just been launched into Israeli territory. The rockets appear to have been directly targeting a ceremony near the Gaza border. 3 dead Amidst Anti-Regime protests in Iran Intense Anti-Regime protests have erupted in Iran, the worst in the country in nearly a decade. At least three demonstrators have been killed by Iran's revolutionary guard for protesting against the current government. Asylum seekers from Africa Israel is home to an incredibly diverse mix of people, so many different nationalities and religions all in one tiny country, but you may not realize that over forty thousand Asylum Seekers from Africa currently live here in Israel as well. Innovations in the field of Inclusivity Yael Elstein, Head Of Technology Center at Beit Issie Shapiro speaking at ILTV Studio about a non-profit focused on helping people with disabilities.   N.B.A. gets fouled over Palestine wording Many have been crying ‘Foul' over the N.B.A.'s controversial wording on its website, when the league listed the Palestinians territories as “occupied.” Nearly 1 million Israelis have no credit card Adv. Dana Hirschberg, CEO of Hirschberg Holdings speaking at ILTV Studio about the issue of people living in Israel that don't have the ability to apply for a credit card. Top 5 Israeli Startups of 2017 2017 saw a 110 percent increase in Israeli High-Tech exits, the average exit in 2017 was 106 million dollars, and here is the top five startups from Israeli's "Silicon Wadi". Hebrew word Of The Day: FADICHA | פדיחה = EMBARRASSMENT Learn a New Hebrew word every day. Today's word is "Tabat" which means "Ring" The Weather Forecast Tonight should be partly cloudy with a chance of rain and a low of about fifty-one, or eleven degrees Celsius. Tomorrow you can expect a drop in temperatures and more local showers. The high will be about sixty-two, or seventeen degrees Celsius. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Knesset passes controversial police law The Knesset has just passed the controversial ‘police recommendations' bill into law, and has already ignited intense debate within the country. Clashes erupt at Holy Site in West Bank Clashes have erupted between Jewish worshippers and Palestinians at the Tume of Yehoshua Bin Nun, a Holy Site located in the West Bank. Guatemala doubles down on Embassy move Following the United States, Guatemala has become the second country to announce that it will relocate its Embassy to Jerusalem, though Palestinian leaders and many members of the International Community condemned Guatemala's decision. Israeli who served in I.D.F. tried to join ISIS A man has just been convicted of trying to join ISIS, an Oleh Chadash immigrant who made Aliyah to Israel as a teenager, and who actually served in the I.D.F. P.M. Netanyahu unveils his ‘50 on 50 plan' Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has just announced that he is set to start rolling out his ‘50 on 50' campaign. 6. Israeli musician releases second album Omer Netzer, Singer & Songwriter speaking at ILTV Studio about his new album, Sweet Mistake. Results announced for literal popularity contest Two Jewish men cracked the most admired Jews among Americans, Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders, at number seven, and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu at number nine. Rachel Ray is cookin' with fire and politics Debate ensues after celebrity chef, Rachel Ray, calls Hummus and Tabouli Salad ‘Israeli'. Get your team together Roie Tsarfati, Founder Of Real Manager Club speaking at ILTV Studio about the next best platform in fantasy sports. 10. Tel Aviv Lego tower could break Guinness record! A team of Israeli volunteers are gunning for a Guinness world record, inspired by the heartbreaking story of a little boy. 11. Breathing new life into an ancient style Rivka Sheffer, Rika Mosaic Art speaking at ILTV Studio about her artwork that is inspired by the ancient are form. 12. Top 5 best known Israeli wedding dress designers Israeli designers take the world by storm and aren't planning on slowing down. 13. Hebrew word Of The Day: TABAT | טַבַּעַת = RING Learn a New Hebrew word every day. Today's word is "Tabat" which means "Ring" The Weather Forecast Tonight should be partly cloudy with moderate winds through the center and north of Israel, and a low of about fifty-six, or thirteen degrees Celsius. The weekend is expected to remain cloudy with little change in temperatures and an average high of roughly sixty-eight or twenty degrees Celsius.   See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The Subtler Art by Cat Rambo Anything can happen in Serendib, the city built of dimensions intersecting, and this is what happened there once. The noodle shop that lies on the border between the neighborhood of Yddle, which is really a forest, houses strapped to the wide trunks, and Eclect, an industrial quarter, is claimed by both, with equally little reason. The shop was its own Territory, with laws differing from either area, although the same can be said of many eating establishments in the City of a Thousand Parts. But the noodles were hand shaved, and the sauce was made of minced ginger and chopped green onions with a little soy sauce and a dash of enlightenment, and they were unequaled in Serendib.   Full transcript after the cut. ----more---- [Intro music plays] Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip, episode 32 for January 24, 2017. This is your host, Keffy, and I'm super excited to be sharing this story with you. For some GlitterShip news: coming on February 1st, we will be open to poetry submissions. For more information, check the submissions guidelines page on our website, GlitterShip.com. Also, starting with our Winter 2017 issue, GlitterShip also has seasonal issues available via our Patreon (patreon.com/keffy) or at glittership.com/buy, for those of you who would like to read the stories before anyone else. Our story this week is "The Subtler Art" by Cat Rambo. Cat's fiction has appeared on GlitterShip before. Episode 13 featured her story "Sugar" , way back in September 2015. Cat lives, writes, and teaches atop a hill in the Pacific Northwest. Her 200+ fiction publications include stories in Asimov’s, Clarkesworld Magazine, and The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. She is an Endeavour, Nebula, and World Fantasy Award nominee. 2017 sees the publication of her second novel, Hearts of Tabat.  For more about her, as well as links to her fiction and online classes, see http://www.kittywumpus.net We also have a guest reader this week! Sunny Moraine’s short fiction has appeared in Clarkesworld, Nightmare, Lightspeed, and multiple Year’s Best anthologies, among other places. Their debut short fiction collection Singing With All My Skin and Bone is available from Undertow Publications. They unfortunately live just outside Washington, DC, in a creepy house with two cats and a very long-suffering husband.   The Subtler Art by Cat Rambo   Anything can happen in Serendib, the city built of dimensions intersecting, and this is what happened there once. The noodle shop that lies on the border between the neighborhood of Yddle, which is really a forest, houses strapped to the wide trunks, and Eclect, an industrial quarter, is claimed by both, with equally little reason. The shop was its own Territory, with laws differing from either area, although the same can be said of many eating establishments in the City of a Thousand Parts. But the noodles were hand shaved, and the sauce was made of minced ginger and chopped green onions with a little soy sauce and a dash of enlightenment, and they were unequaled in Serendib. It was the Dark’s favorite place to eat, and since she and Tericatus were haphazard cooks at best and capable of (usually accidentally) killing someone at worst, they often ate their meals out. And because the city is so full of notorious people, very few noted that the woman once known as the best assassin on five continents on a world that only held four and her lover, a wizard who’d in his time achieved wonders and miracles and once even a rebirthed God, were slurping noodles only an elbow length’s away at the same chipped beige stone counter. Though indifferent cooks, both were fond enough of food to argue its nuances in detail, and this day they were arguing over the use of white pepper or golden when eating the silvery little fish that swarm every seventh Spring in Serendib. “Yellow pepper has a flatness to it,” Dark argued. Since retirement, she had let herself accumulate a little extra fat over her wiry muscles, and a few white strands traced themselves through her midnight hair, but she remained the one of the pair who drew most eyes. Her lover was a lean man, sparse in flesh and hair, gangly, with long capable hands spotted with unnatural colors and burns from alchemical experiments. “Cooking,” said the person on the other side of her, “is an exceedingly subtle art.” “Cathay,” the Dark said, recognizing the stranger. Her tone was cool. The newcomer was both acquaintance and former lover for both of them, but more than that, Cathay was a Trickster mage, and you never knew what she might be getting into. Tericatus grunted his own acknowledgment and greeting, rolling an eye sideways at the Dark in warning. He knew she was prone to impatience and while Tricksters can play with many things, impatience is a favorite point to press on. But the conversation that the Trickster made was slight, as though Cathay’s mind were elsewhere, and by the time the other had tapped coin to counter in order to pay, most of what she’d said had vanished, except for those few words. “A subtle art,” the Dark repeated to Tericatus, letting the words linger like pepper on her tongue. “It describes what I do as well. The most subtle art of all, assassination.” Tericatus slouched back in his chair with a smile on his lips and a challenging quirk to his eyebrow. “A subtle art, but surely not the most subtle. That would be magery, which is subtlety embodied.” The Dark looked hard at her mate. While she loved him above almost all things, she had been——and remained——very proud of her skill at her profession. The argument hung in the air between them. They both considered it. So many words could go in defense of either side. But actions speak stronger than words. And so they both stood and slid a token beneath their empty bowls and nodded at each other in total agreement. “Who first?” the Dark asked. “I have one in mind already, if you don’t care,” Tericatus murmured. “Very well.”   Serendib has no center—or at least the legend goes that if anyone ever finds it, the city will fall—but surely wherever its heart is, it must lie close to the gardens of Caran Sul. Their gates are built of white moon-metal, which grows darker whenever the moon is shadowed, and their grounds are overgrown with shanks of dry green leaves and withered purple blossoms that smell sweet and salty, like the very edges of the sea. In the center, five towers start to reach to the sky, only to tangle into the form of Castle Knot, where the Angry Daughters, descended from the prophet who once lived there, swarm, and occasionally pull passersby into their skyborne nests, never to be seen again. Tericatus and the Dark paid their admittance coin to the sleepy attendant at the entrance stile outside the gate and entered through the pathway hacked into the vegetation. Tericatus paused halfway down the tunnel to lean down and pick up a caterpillar from the dusty path, transferring it to the dry leaves on the opposite side. The Dark kept a wary eye on the sky as they emerged into sunlight. While she did not fear an encounter with a few of the Daughters, a crowd of them would be an entirely different thing. But nothing stirred in the stony coils and twists so far above. “This reminds me,” she ventured, “of the time we infiltrated the demon city of S’keral pretending to be visiting scholars and wrestled that purple stone free from that idol.” “Indeed,” Tericatus said, “this is nothing like that.” “Ah. Perhaps it is more like the time we entered the village of shapeshifters and killed their leaders before anyone had time enough to react.” “It is not like that either,” Tericatus said, a little irritably. “Remind me,” she said, “exactly what we are doing here.” Tericatus stopped and crossed his arms. “I’m demonstrating the subtlety with which magic can work.” “And how exactly will it work? she inquired. He unfolded an arm and pointed upward towards the dark shapes flapping their way down from the heights, clacking the brazen, razor-sharp bills on the masks they wore. “I presume you don’t need me to do anything.” Tericatus did not deign to answer. The shapes continued to descend. The Dark could see the brass claws tipping their gloves, each stained with ominous rust. “You're quite sure you don’t need me?” A butterfly fluttered across the sky from behind them. Dodging to catch it in her talons, one Daughter collided with another, and the pair tumbled into the path of a third, then a fourth... The Dark blinked as the long grass around them filled with fallen bodies. “Very nice,” she said with genuine appreciation. “And the tipping point?” Tericatus smirked slightly. “The caterpillar. You may have noticed that I moved it from one kind of plant to another -” “Of course.” “And when it eats jilla leaves, its scent changes, attracting adults of its species to come lay more eggs there.” “Well done,” she said. “A valiant try indeed.”   The Home for Dictators is, despite its name, a retirement home, though it is true that it holds plenty of past leaders of all sorts of stripes, and many of them are not particularly benign. “Why here?” Tericatus said as they came up Fume and Spray and Rant Street, changing elevations as they went till the air grew chill and dry. “It grates on me to perform a hit without getting paid for it,” the Dark said, a little apologetically. “It feels unprofessional.” “You’re retired. Why should you worry about feeling unprofessional?” “You’re retired too. Why should you worry about who’s more subtle?” “Technically, wizards never retire.” “Assassins do,” the Dark said. “It’s just that we don’t usually get the chance.” “Get the chance or lose the itch?” She shrugged. “A little of both?” Tericatus expected the Dark to go in through the back in the way she’d been famous for: unseen, unannounced. Or failing that, to disguise herself in one of her many cunning alterations: an elderly inmate to be admitted, a child come to visit a grandparent, a dignitary there to honor some old politician. But instead she marched up the steps and signed her name in bold letters on the guestbook. “The Dark.” The receptionist/nurse, a young newtling with damp, pallid skin and limpid eyes, spun it around to read the name, which clearly meant little to him. “And you’ve come to see...” he said, letting the sentence trail upward in question as his head tilted. The Dark eyed him. It was a look Tericatus knew well, a look that started mild and reasonable but which, as time progressed, would swell into menace, darken like clouds gathering on the edge of the horizon. The newt paled, cheeks twitching convulsively as it swallowed. “Simply announce me to the populace at large,” the Dark said. Without taking his eyes from her, the newt fumbled for the intercom, a device clearly borrowed from some slightly more but not too advanced dimension, laden with black-iron cogs and the faint green glow of phlogiston. He said hesitantly into the bell-like speaking cup, “The, uh, Dark is here to see, uh, someone.” The Dark smiled faintly and turned back to the waiting room. After a few moments, Tericatus said, “Are we expecting someone?” “Not really,” the Dark replied. “Some thing?” “Closer, but not quite,” she said. They glanced around as a bustle of doctors went through a doorway. “There we go,” the Dark said. She tugged her lover in their wake. Up a set of stairs and then they saw the doctors gathered in a room at the head where an elderly woman lay motionless in her bed. “The Witch of the Southeast,” Dark murmured. “She’s always feared me, and her heart was frail as tissue paper. Come on.” They drifted further along the corridor. Dark paused in a doorway. The man in the wheelchair wore an admiral’s uniform, but his eyes were unseeing, his lips drawn up in a rictus that exposed purple gums. “Diploberry,” Dark said. “It keeps well, and just a little has the effect one wants. It is a relatively painless means of suicide.” Tericatus looked at the admiral. “Because he heard you were coming.” The Dark spread her hands in a helpless shrug, her grin fox sly. “And you’re getting paid for all of them? How long ago did you plant some of the seeds you’ve harvested here?” “The longest would be a decade and a half,” she mused. “How many others have died?” “Three. All dictators whose former victims were more than willing to see their old oppressors gone.” Tericatus protested, “You can’t predict that with such finesse.” “Can I not?” she asked, and pointed at the door where three stretchers were exiting, carried by orderlies in the costume of the place, gold braids and silver sharkskin suits. She smiled smugly. “Subtle, no?” Tericatus nodded, frowning. “Come now,” she said. “Is it that hard to admit defeat?” “Not so hard, my love,” he said. “But isn’t that Cathay?” Dark felt another touch of unease. You never know what a Trickster Mage is getting you into. And there indeed stood Cathay at the front desk, speaking sweetly to someone, a bouquet of withered purple blossom in her hand, more of it in her hair, a smell like longing and regret and the endless sea. Dark murmured, “She always loved those flowers and yet did not like contending with the Daughters.” Tericatus said, “She had lovers here, I know that. No doubt she has five inheritances coming.” Cathay turned and smiled at them. The Dark bowed slightly, and Tericatus inclined his head. # “But,” the Dark finally said into the silence as they walked away, headed by mutual accord to the bar closest to the noodle shop, “we can still argue over which of us exercises the second most subtle art.” END   "The Subtler Art" was originally published in Blackguards: tales of Assassins, Mercenaries, and Rogues edited by J.M. Martin in 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, leaving reviews on iTunes, or just telling a friend. Thanks for listening, and we'll be back on February 13th with two original stories: "Curiosity Fruit Machine" by S. Qiouyi Lu and "The Slow Ones" by JY Yang. [Music plays out]

1. ) Begrüßung Der Race ist wieder da und es gibt seit dem Giro einiges aufzuarbeiten. ----- 2.) Dauphine Team Sky ist bereit für die Tour. Tony Martin weint öffentlich über die “blöde” Streckenführung. Finden wir doof. Etixx mit starker Doppelspitze und Buchmanns Formaufbau scheint zu passen. ----- 3.) Tour de Suisse Dem kleinen Kolumbianer Lopez gelingt der Durchbruch auf großer Bühne. Wie viele dieser starken Südamerikaner gibt es überhaupt im Radsport und wir fragen uns warum sie uns keinen abgeben. Thomas enttäuscht. ----- 4.) 100. Rund um Köln Ein Holländer zeigt unseren Jungs die lange Nase. Naja, man kann auch nicht immer gewinnen und mit Teamkollege Rober Wagner freut sich zumindest ein Deutscher für Sieger Dylan (van) Groenewegen. Abschied von Rudi Altig und schlimme News über den ewigen Tabat. ----- 5.) Nationale Meisterschaften Der Gorilla zum Dritten. Meisterschaft und Kittel passt wohl nicht. Vllt klappts dafür wieder mit gelb hoffen wir. Tony Martin dominant im Zeitfahren und Worrack sorgt für ein kleines Radsportmärchen. Parallel zu Dege ? Hoffen wir zumindest ! ----- 6.) Bouhanni raus aus der Tour Verletzt nach Prügelei ! Wir finden : Selbst schuld… ----- 7.) Hansgrohe neuer Co-Sponsor beim Team Bora Jetzt greift Bora nach den Sternen aber der Griff nach Sagan ist wohl zu viel des Guten. Wir hoffen auf eine weiterhin gute Förderung der deutschen Talente. ----- 8.) Tour - die Fahrer Wir gehen die Teams durch und spekulieren über Chancen und Ziele ----- 9.)Tour - die Strecke Was können wir vom Parcours erwarten ? Fest steht, bereits die ersten Etappen haben es in sich. Viel Wind und gleich auf der 2. Etappe gehts hinauf. Insgesamt bietet die Tour laut Profil viel Spannung. Wir freuen uns drauf. ----- 10.) Tour - die Favoriten Wir sind uns einig, dass Froome und Quitana die Topfavoriten sind. Platz 3 ist offen. Kein Grün für Sagen ? Für uns nicht vorstellbar. Das Bergtrikot offen wie immer, Purito der Tipp von Chris. Beim weißen Trikot herrscht Uneinigkeit. Chris erwartet ein offenes Rennen, Thomas sieht Barguill der Konkurrenz etwas enteilt. Die Teamwertung - eigentlich die unwichtigste - geht laut Chris an die Movis (zumindest etwas). Kämpferischster Fahrer ? Unser Tipp: Jan Barta Verabschiedung: Wir freuen uns auf spannende Wochen und halten euch auf dem Laufenden ! Wir danken euch fürs zuhören!!!

Sugarby Cat RamboThey line up before Laurana, forty baked-clay heads atop forty bodies built of metal cylinders.  Every year she casts and fires new heads to replace those lost to weather, the wild, or simple erosion.  She rarely replaces the metal bodies.  They are scuffed and battered, over a century old.Every morning, the island sun beating down on her pale scalp, she stands on the maison's porch with the golems before her.  Motionless.  Expressionless.She chants.  The music and the words fly into the clay heads and keep them thinking.  The golems are faster just after they have been charged.  They move more lightly, with more precision.  With more joy.  Without the daily chant they could go perhaps three days at most, depending on the heaviness of their labors.Full transcript appears under the cut.----more----[Intro music plays]Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip episode 13 for September 1st, 2015. This is your host Keffy, and I'm super excited to be sharing this story with you.We're back from our unfortunate hiatus, which was caused because it turns out that moving more than 3,000 miles away across the entire continent is a bit of an upheaval. But, I'm settling in over here in New York, now, and I'm a little more than a week into the first year of my five-in-theory-year program.Our story today is "Sugar" by Cat Rambo. Cat Rambo lives, writes, and teaches by the shores of an eagle-haunted lake in the Pacific Northwest. A prolific storywriter and Nebula and World Fantasy Award nominee, her publications include stories in Asimov's, Clarkesworld Magazine, and Tor.com. Her most recent book is Beasts of Tabat, Book 1 of the Tabat Quartet. She is the current President of SFWA (the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America). For more about her, as well as links to her fiction, see http://www.kittywumpus.netSugarby Cat RamboThey line up before Laurana, forty baked-clay heads atop forty bodies built of metal cylinders.  Every year she casts and fires new heads to replace those lost to weather, the wild, or simple erosion.  She rarely replaces the metal bodies.  They are scuffed and battered, over a century old.Every morning, the island sun beating down on her pale scalp, she stands on the maison's porch with the golems before her.  Motionless.  Expressionless.She chants.  The music and the words fly into the clay heads and keep them thinking.  The golems are faster just after they have been charged.  They move more lightly, with more precision.  With more joy.  Without the daily chant they could go perhaps three days at most, depending on the heaviness of their labors.This month is cane-planting season.  She delegates the squads of laborers and sets some to carrying buckets from the spring to water the new cane shoots while others dig furrows.  The roof needs reshingling, but it can wait until planting season is past.  As the golems shuffle off, she pauses to water the flowering bushes along the front of the house.  Placing her fingertips together, she conjures a tiny rain cloud, wringing moisture from the air.  Warm drops collect on the leaves, rolling down to darken pink and gray bark to red and black.Inside the house is quiet.  The three servants are in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and gossiping.  She comes up to the doorway like a ghost, half fearing what she will hear.  Nothing but small, inconsequential things.  Jeanette says when she takes her freedom payment, she will ask for a barrel of rum, and go sell it in the street, three silver pieces a cup, over at Sant Tigres, the pirate city.  She has a year to go in the sorceress' service. Daniel has been here a year and has four more to go.  He is still getting used to the golems, still eyes them warily when he thinks no one can see him.  He is thin and wiry, and his face is pockmarked and scarred by the Flame Plague.  He was lucky to escape the Old Continent with his life.  Lucky to live here now, and he knows it.Tante Isabelle has been with her since the woman was thirteen.  Now she's eighty-five, frail as one of the butterflies that move through the bougainvillea.  A black beak's snap, and the butterfly will be gone.  She sits peeling cubes of ginger, which she will boil with sugar and lime juice to make sweet syrup that can flavor tea or conjured ice."If you sell rum, everyone will think you are selling what lies between your thighs as well!" she says, eying Jeanette.Jeanette shrugs and tosses her head. "Maybe I'd make even more that way!" she says, ignoring Daniel's blush.Tante Isabelle looks up to see Laurana standing there.  The old woman's smile is sweet as sunshine, sweet as sugar.  The sorceress stands in the doorway, and the three servants smile at her, as they always do, at their beautiful mistress.  No thought ever crosses their minds of betraying or displeasing her.  It never occurs to them to wonder why.Christina is a pirate.  She wears bright calicos stolen from Indian traders and works on a ship that travels in lazy shark-like loops around the Lesser and Greater Southern Isles, looking for strays from the treasure fleet and Duchy merchants.  The merchants, based in the southernmost New Continent port of Tabat, prey on the more impoverished colonies, taking their entire crops in return for food and tools.  The treasure fleet is part of a vast corrupt network, fed by springs of gold.  This is what Christina tells Laurana, how she justifies her profession of blood and watery death.When Christina comes to Sant Tigres, she goes to the inn and sends one of the pigeons the innkeeper keeps on the roof.  It flies to Laurana's window.  She leaves her maison and sails to the port in a small skiff, standing all the way from one island to the other, sea winds whipping around her.  She focuses her will and asks the air sylphs, who she normally does not converse with, to bear her to her lover's scarlet and orange clad arms.Tiny golden hoops, each set with a charm created by Laurana, are set in Christina's right ear.  One is a tiny glass fish, protection against drowning, and the other is a silver lightning bolt to ward off storms. Christina likes to order large meals when she comes ashore.  Her crew hunts the unsettled islands and catches the wild cattle and hogs so abundant there to eke out their income.  They sell the excess fat and hides to the smugglers that fill these islands.  So she is not meat-starved now, but wants sugary treats, confections of butter and sweet, washed down with raw swallows of rum, here in harbor, where she can be safely drunk."Pretty farmer," she says now.  She touches the sorceress's hair, which was black as Christina's once, but which has gone silver with age, despite her unlined skin and her clear, brilliant blue eyes."Pretty pirate," Laurana replies.  She spends the evening buying drinks for Christina and her crew.  The pirates count on her deep pockets, rich with gold from selling sugar.  Sometimes they try to sell her things plundered on their travels, ritual components, scrolls or trinkets laden with spells.  The only present Christina ever brought her was a waxed and knotted cord strung with knobby, pearly shells.  It hangs on her bedchamber wall where the full moon's light can polish it each month.Laurana brings Christina presents: fresh strawberries and fuzzy nectarines from her greenhouse.  In Sant Tigres, she trades sugar for bushels of chocolate beans and packets of spices.  Someday, when circumstances have changed, she would like Christina to spend a day or two at the plantation.  Jeannette would outdo herself with the meals, flakey pastries and flowers of spun sugar. It is time to send for a new cook, she thinks.  It will take a few months to post the message and then for the new arrival to appear, and even more time for Jeannette to train her in the ways of the kitchen and how to tell the golems to fetch and carry.Someone leans forward to ask her a question.  It is a new member of Christina's crew, curious about the rumors of her plantation."Human slaves are doomed to failure," she says. "Look what happened on Banbur – discontented servants burned the fields and overtook the town there, turning their masters and mistresses out into the underbrush or setting them to labor."And," she added. "Whites do badly in this climate.  I can take care of myself and my household, but it is easier to not worry about my automatons growing ill or dying."Although they did die, after a fashion.  They wore away, their features blurred with erosion.  They cracked and crumbled – first the noses, then the lips and brows, their eyes becoming pitted shadows, their molded hair a mottling of cracks.Time to redecorate soon, she thought.  She did it every few decades.  She would send a letter and eventually a company representative would show up, consult with her, and then vanish back to Tabat, soon replaced by rolls of new wallpaper and carpets, crates of china and porcelain wash basins.  She looks at Christina and pictures her against blue silk sheets, olive skin gleaming in candle glow.Later they fall into bed together and she stays there for two hours before she rises, despite her lover's muffled, sleepy protests, and takes her skiff back to her own island.  Overhead the sky is a black bowl set with glittering layers of stars, grainy as sandstone and striated with light.  Moonlight dapples the waves, so dark and impenetrable that they look like polished jet.At home, she goes upstairs.  A passage cuts across the house, running north to south to take advantage of the trade wind, and open squares at the top of each room partition let the wind through.  Britomart's is the northernmost room.The air smells of dawn and sugar.   Sugar, sweet and translucent as Britomart's skin, the color of snow drifts, laid on cool white linen.  The other woman's ivory hair, which matches Laurana's, is spread out across the pillow.Tonight her face is unmasked.  Laurana does not flinch away from the pitted eyes, the face more eroded than any golem's.  Outside in the courtyard, the black and white deathbirds hop up and down in the branches, making the crimson flowers shake in the early morning light."Pleasant trip?" Britomart says.Laurana's answer is noncommittal.  Sometimes her old lover is kind, but she is prone to lashing out in sudden anger.  Laurana does not blame her for that.  Her death is proving neither painless nor particularly short, but it is coming, nonetheless.  A month?  A year?  Longer?  Laurana isn't sure.  How long have they been locked in this conversation?  It has been less than six months so far, she knows, but it seems like forever.She goes to her room.  The bed is turned down and a hot brick has been slipped between the sheets to warm them.  A bouquet of ginger sits on the table near the lamp, sending out its bold perfume.She lies in bed and fails to sleep.  Britomart's face floats before her in the darkness.  She is unsure if she is dreaming or really seeing it.  She wonders if she remembers it as worse than it really is.  But she doesn't.Two weeks later, the pigeon at her window.Christina has a bandage around her upper arm, nothing much, she says, carelessness in a battle.  She pushes Laurana away, though apologetically.  Rather than sleep together, they stay awake and talk.  It is their first conversation of any length.  Two hours after their first meeting, in the Sant Tigres market, they had fallen into bed together, four months ago."So she's sick, your friend?" Christina says."You were raised here in the islands," Laurana answers.  "You don't know what it was like in the Old Country.  In the space of three years, sorcerers destroyed two continents.  Everyone decided to make their power play at once.  They called dragons up out of the earth and set them killing.  The Flame Plague moved from town to town.  Entire villages went up like candles.  Millions died, and the earth itself was charred and burned, magic stripped from it.  Some fought with elementals, and others with summoned winds and fogs, but others with poisoned magic."She pours herself more wine.  Christina's skin is paler than usual, but the lantern light in the room gleams on it as though it were flower petals."And you were here…" Christina prompts."I was here in the islands, preparing to go.  I heard that Britomart had blundered into someone else's trap and was dying of it.  I brought her down.  The magic is clean here, and there are serendipities and artifacts.  I hoped to heal her.""But that hasn't happened."The wine is mulled with cinnamon and clove and sugar that has not completely dissolved, a gritty sweet residue at the cup's bottom."No," she says. "That hasn't happened."Christina smuggles Laurana onto her ship while it's at harbor.  She and three other sailors are supposed to be watching it.  Laurana sits with them drinking shots of rum until the yellow moon swings itself up over the prow, its face broad and grinning as a baby's.  It reminds her of Britomart and her tears well up.  She savors the moment, for magic removes almost all capacity to weep.She nudges Christina and points to the distant reef.  Out on the rocks, mermaids cluster, fishy eyes shining in the moonlight, fleshy gills pulsing like tidepool creatures shuttered close by the light.  She kisses Christina as they watch.Eventually, the two climb into Christina's bunk for frantic, slippery, drunken lovemaking, careful of the still healing arm.She leaves in the small hours, past the stares of the mermaids.  It is still planting season and the golems work and night.When she first came to the island she tried yellow-flowered sea-island cotton.  Then indigo and ginger.  With the arrival from the Wizard's College of Tabat of schematics for three-roller mills and copper furnace pots, sugar cane has become the crop of choice.  Her workers perform the labor that must be undertaken day and night when the cane is ready to harvested and transmuted into sugar and molasses.  She makes rum too, and ships barrels of it along with the molasses casks and thick cones of molded muscovado sugar to Sant Tigres, which consumes or trades all she can supply.Most sorcerers are not strong enough to animate so many golems.  She has the largest plantation in this area.  Others, though, have followed her lead, although on a smaller scale.  It took decades for them to realize how steadily she was making money, despite the depredations of the Dutch merchants or the pirates they paid to disrupt the Aztec shipping trade.She had been to the Old Continent before all the trouble, two years learning science at a school, where she had met Britomart, who was an actual princess as well as a sorceress.  She had been centuries old when she met Britomart but she had dared to hope that here was her soul mate, the person who would stay by her side over all the centuries to come. But in the end, she wanted to return to her island, full of new techniques and machineries that she thought would improve the yield.  Rotating fields and planting those lying fallow with clover, to be plowed into the soil to enrich it for planting.  Plans for a windmill to be built to the southeast, facing into the wind channeled through the mountains, with sails made of wooden frames tied with canvas.  Lenses placed together that allowed one to observe the phases of heaven and the moons that surrounded other planets, and the accompanying elegant Copernican theories to explain their movements. She swore to Britomart that she would return by the next rainy season and she kept her promise.But by then, the trap had been sprung and Britomart had begun to rot away, victim of a magic left by a man who had died two weeks previously."You're ready to be rid of me," Britomart says."Of course not.""It's true, you are!"She goes about the room, conjuring breezes and positioning them to blow across the bed's expanse."You are," Britomart whispers. "I would be."Two breezes collide at the center of the bed.  Britomart wants it cold, ever colder.  It slows the decay, perhaps.  Laurana isn't sure of that either.Outside she sees that the golems are nearly done with the south-east field.  One more to go after that.  She glances over the building, tallying up the things to be done.  Roof.  Trimming back the bushes.  Exercising the horse she had thought Britomart would ride.Half a mile away is the beach shore.  Her skiff is pulled up there, tied to a rock.  Standing beside it, she can see the smudge of Sant Tigres on the horizon.She is so tired that she aches to her bones.  Somewhere deep inside her, she is aware, there is an endless well of sorrow, but she is simply too weary to pay it any mind.  It is one of the peculiarities of mages that they can compartmentalize themselves, and put away emotions to never be touched again.She does this now, rousing herself, and prepares to go on.  She has a pact with the universe, which told her long ago when she became a sorceress: nothing will be asked that cannot be endured.  So she soldiers on like her workers, marching through the days.She is still tired a week later."Go to her," Britomart says.  "I don't care.  You don't have much time with her.""I have even less with you," Laurana says, but Britomart still turns away.It is harvesting season’s end.  Outside in the evening, some of the golems are in the boiling house, where three boilers sit over the furnace, cooking the sugar cane sap.  The syrup passes from boiler to boiler until in the last it begins to crystallize into muscovado.  Two golems pack it into clay sugar molds and set the molds in the distillery so the molasses will drain away.In the distillery, more golems walk across the mortar and cobble floor in which copper cauldrons are set for molasses collection, undulating channels feeding them the liquid. They mix cane juice into the brew before casking it.  In a few months, it will be distilled into fiery, raw rum and sold to the taverns in the pirate city.She goes and fetches her notebook and sits in the room with Britomart, her pen scratching away to record the day's labors, the number of rows harvested, and making out a list of necessities for her next trip to Sant Tigres.  She estimates two thousand pounds of sugar this year, three hundred casks of molasses, and another two hundred of rum.  Recently she received word that the sorcerer Carnuba, whose plantation is three days south, renovated his sugar mill to process lime juice.  Lime juice is an excellent scurvy preventative, and much in demand – she wonders how long it would take a newly planted grove to fruit.  Her pen dances across the page, calculating raw material costs and the best forms of transportation."Is she pretty?" Britomart asks.  Her face is still turned away.Laurana considers. "Yes," she says."As pretty as I was?" The anguish in the whisper forces Laurana put down her pen.  She takes Britomart's hands in hers.  They are untouched by the disease, the nails sleek and shiny and well-groomed.  Hands like the necks of swans, or white doves arcing over the gleam of water."Never that pretty," she says.The next morning Laurana goes through the room, touching each charm to stillness until the lace curtains no longer flutter.  Until there is no sound in the room except her own breathing and the warbling calls of the deathbirds clustering among the blossoms of the bougainvillea tree outside.She hears a fluttering from her room, a pigeon that has joined the dozen others on the windowsill, but she ignores it, as she ignored the earlier arrivals.  She sits beside the bed, listening, listening.  But the figure on the bed does not take another breath, no matter how long she listens.All through that day, the golems labor boiling sugar.  Jeanette brings her lemonade and the new girl, Madeleine, has made biscuits.  She drinks the sweet liquid and looks at the dusty wallpaper.  The thought of changing it stuns her with the energy it would require.  She will sit here, she thinks, until she dies, and dust will collect on her and the wallpaper alike.Still, when dinner-time comes she goes downstairs and under Tante Isabelle's watchful eye, she pushes some food around on her plate.Daniel cannot help but be a little thankful that Britomart is dead, she thinks.  He was the one who emptied her chamber pot and endured her abuse when she set him to fetching and carrying.  The thought makes her speak sharply to him as he serves the chowder the new girl has made.  He looks bewildered by her tone and slinks away.  She regrets the moment as soon as it is passed but has no reason for calling him back.Upstairs the ranks of the pigeons have swollen by two or three more.  She lies on her bed, fully clothed, and stares at the ceiling.The next morning she takes two golems from their labors to carry Britomart's body for her.  They dig the grave on a high slope of the mountain, overlooking the bay.  It is a fine view, she thinks.  One Britomart would have liked. When they have finished, she stands with her palms turned upwards to the sky, calling clouds to come seething on the wind.  They collect, darkening like burning sugar.  When they are at the perfect, furious boil, she brings lightning down from them to smash the stone that stands over the grave.  She does it over and over again, carving Britomart's name in deep and angry, blackened letters.At home she goes to lie in bed again.One by one, the golems grind to a stop at their labors, and the sap boils over in thick black smoke.  They stand wherever their energy gave out, but all manage in their last moments to bring their limbs in towards their torsos, standing like stalks of stillness.It may be the smoke that draws Christina.  She arrives, knocks on the door, and comes inside, brushing past the servants.  Without knowing the house, she manages to come upstairs and to Laurana's bedroom.Laurana does not move, does not look over at the door.Christina comes to the bed and lies down beside the sorceress.  She looks around at the bedroom, at the string of shells hanging on the wall, but says nothing.  She strokes Laurana's ivory hair with a soft hand until the tears begin.Outside the golems grind to life again as the rain starts.  They collect the burned vats and trundle them away.  They cask the most recent rum and set the casks on wooden racks to ferment.  They put the plantation into order, and finish the last of their labors.  Then as the light of day fades, muffled by the steady rain, they arrange themselves again, closing themselves away, readying for tomorrow.END"Sugar" was originally published in Fantasy Magazine in 2007.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.Thanks for listening, and I'll have another story for you on September 8th.[Music plays out]

SFWA Vice President Cat Rambo joins me to talk about SFWA, her work, and more.SFWA is the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America. Cat is currently Vice President, and is running for President. Her presidential platform statement is here. SFWA members can nominate and vote for the Nebula Awards, which are presented at the Nebula Awards Weekend each year. 2015 is the 50th year!Cat talked a bit about her forthcoming novel, The Beasts of Tabat, and her forthcoming collection, Neither Here Nor There. You can find out more about those and all her other work on the fiction section of her website. If you'd like a free taste with some QUILTBAG content, Cat Recommends starting with "Miss Liberty Gets a Haircut" in Strange Horizons. A good starter collection to purchase is Near + Far, which contains her Nebula-nominated story, "Five Ways to Fall in Love on the Planet Porcelain". Cat Also recommended Catherine Lundoff’s SF Signal series on LGBT SF.

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