Tag Archives: Analog Magazine

Flash Fiction, Sci-Fi

Search Me…

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Search me-image-40

They were big and beefy and incredibly strong.  They were aggressive, poking their weapons everywhere and they smelled like belligerent fear as they shouted and snarled.  They had plate armor like insects but were pasty and bony underneath with beady eyes and a ridiculous tuft of hair on their tiny heads – like hand puppets.  They were most definitely …ALIEN!

When they landed their starship in my back yard and demanded; “Take me to your leader!”  I was so stunned – so baffled that I froze and just blinked at them.  Their exasperated captain tried again; “Where are your leaders?!” sneering with contempt, as if I was a child.  I simply shrugged and said, “Search me…”

Now…I don’t know if they misunderstood me or just had a REALLY strange sense of humor…..but being held down in a medical lab with a gnarly probe approaching my buttocks is taking things waaaaaay too literally.  These humans area  nasty bunch.

***This story reminds me of my last colonoscopy…And can anybody explain what the deal is with Aliens and anal probes?  They’re almost as bad as the CIA (at least Aliens ask intelligent questions).  This was the (lucky) 13th cover John did for the Jan/Feb 2015 issue of Analog Magazine.  You won’t find this image in any of our 3 current books but you can find our books by following the links to www.sallemander.com and our Etsy shop.   -Marsha 

Flash Fiction, fragment, Sci-Fi

Just Pretend You’re One of Them

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Captain’s Log: Oct. 31, 2017, 4:16 pm. Earth time.

Oh my…this is going to be SO easy!  All that hard work preparing costumes and disguises for this mission…..completely unnecessary.  Just look at this place.  The natives here are CRAZY!  All day since we landed they’ve been running around dressed up in outrageous costumes, as monsters and zombies and hookers and well…even aliens.  I think we’re gonna fit in here, just fine.  But hooo-boy, when I get back home, I’m going to tear the advanced team a new one.  Their intelligence reports painted such a boring, conservative picture of this species…SHEEESH, were they wrong!?  Why, just now I saw a tiny little demon girl approaching our safe-house door…..hang on…’DING—DONG!’…..”Trick or treat!!!”

***John’s illustration was originally published in the October 2014 issue of Analog Magazine for a story by Joyce and Stanley Schmidt.  Stan is an old friend and was the editor of Analog for about 3 decades.  You can find their orig. story in the archives at analogsf.com.  This was originally posted on Halloween in 2015 (my 4th post ever), but most of you will have missed it.   Happy Halloween!  -Marsha 

Flash Fiction, Sci-Fi

Diplomat

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I do nothing all day but sit in my cell, chained to the wall in a puddle of rancid liquid.  The place is filthy, the toilet hasn’t worked in weeks and that awful television box is my only form of entertainment.  It screams at me and blathers their inane, selfish ‘culture’ all day, it’s all I can do to block it out, lest I lose my sanity.  The only decent people I have to speak with are the cockroaches, who seem to come and go as they please…

They take me out twice a week to show me off to their military luminaries while their (so-called) scientists run ‘tests’.  They mostly probe my anus and shock my genitals and laugh like lunatics as they torture me.  I don’t understand their obsession with my junk – and I don’t get the reference to it as “payback”.  My people have never visited this place before.

They are an ugly people.  I don’t mean their pasty, bloated flesh, two meager eyes and stubby fingers that make them look like deformed infants.  I’m referring to their brutish indifference to justice, authoritarian rule and the cognitive dissonance of the masses.  The racist, nasty things they call me…well, I can’t even begin to repeat in polite company.  This is certainly no way to treat an ambassador.

I would never have come to this primitive cesspool if it wasn’t for engine trouble – and a spread of ballistic missiles that took all the dignity out of my crash landing.  These people ignored my distress calls and now refuse to honor my diplomatic immunity…..boy oh boy, when the mother ship gets here to rescue me, they are gonna FRY this place!

***This piece was first posted on Dec. 8th, 2015 as our 10th post.  The image was a cover illustration that John did for Analog Magazine for the June, 2007 issue.  We needed an easy break this week as we gear up to release our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown.”  It’s with the printer now and we’re hoping to have advance copies to bring to the Lehigh Valley Comic Con on Oct. 7th, where John will be a featured guest artist.  Come join us (I might be there too).  -Marsha

Sci-Fi

First Contact

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While Marsha is away (once again), I get to post something I like.  This illustration has some awkward bits in this context, but it made for a good cover and was (strictly) scene-specific to the story/ assignment;  The Earth delegation approaches, having landed their shuttle (by invitation) on the surface of a massive alien starship orbiting Jupiter.

“First Contact” is the cover illustration for the May, 2006 issue of Analog Magazine.  This is the first of 5 images (a cover and 4 interior illos.) for a 4 month serialized story by Edward M. Lerner called “A New Order of Things,” part of his ‘Interstellarnet’ series  It’s a great story and well worth reading.  I got to meet Lerner at the 2010 Nebula awards – nice guy.  I’ve read a few of his books over the years and highly recommend them.  -John

Flash Fiction, fragment, Sci-Fi

Orbital Fracture

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“Well, that was pretty weird…” Quinn’s dad said, as they strolled out of the hospital emergency room toward the car.  Quinn nodded in solemn agreement.  His brain rattled a little, still full of purple marbles and tapioca.  He winced as his now full blown concussion sent steam whistling from his ears and left a trail of silly string on the asphalt.

Just a few hours earlier, Quinn, the goalkeeper for his club soccer team, came out of his box low and fast, to intercept a couple of players desperately sparring for the ball.  He dove in, punching it away as one of the players aimed a kick…but instead of connecting with the ball, his foot caught Quinn in the face like a grizzly car crash (an all-too-common goalie accident).

Quinn’s jaw spun away with a funny “vip-vip-vip!” and hit a light post, exploding in a shower  of sparks.  His teeth peppered everyone within fifty yards…but his head flew straight up in the air at such velocity that we lost sight of it shortly before his “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” diminished into the night.  What a mess!

Willy the Astronaut was a clumsy buffoon who, for the second time this month, slipped and splashed into the molding tank at the polar ice mine on the surface of Mars…as it’s contents began to freeze.  His heavily insulated vac-suit protected him from harm, but he wasn’t discovered until the 60 ton cylinder of ice had already been rocket-lifted up to the orbital processing plant, where it would be transformed into liquid oxygen rocket fuel.

Willy’s coworkers labored fruitlessly for eight frustrating hours with a laser drill to free him, without luck…..until Willy noticed Quinn’s gnarly, high velocity head glance off the ice and careen away, still hollering, “Aaaaaaaaaah!”  Quinn’s head must have hit a sweet spot in the ice, just so, because it fractured the cylinder neatly, allowing Willy to escape unharmed and without a costly, shattered mess for the mining company.  Willy never mentioned Quinn’s head to his employers, he was a known buffoon and his credibility was already compromised.

As to Quinn; his dad managed to gather up all his bits and parts and take him to the hospital, where the clever use of duct tape and super glue had him back on his feet in a few short hours.  We figure his wild story about ice mining on Mars was probably just a symptom of his concussion.

“Well, that was pretty weird…..”

***This is a totally true story which happened to John’s son, Quinn, last week, at a soccer game in Millburn, NJ on June 9th, 2017.  Quinn is recovering (slowly but steadily) and has been corresponding with Willy the Astronaut on facebook.  Quinn’s dad is building a rocket ship in the barn out back, so they can visit the ice mine on Mars next month.  -Marsha     

Clowns

It’s Not The Size Of Your Clown

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Jester Uprising-86Book Excerpt:

Its Not The Size Of Your Clown…

Peevish, North Dakota.  It seems that the smaller the clown, the angrier, more irritable they are.  This image was made during the last of three riots that day.  There was no media coverage and no arrests.  In fact, nobody in town even realized they had an infestation of teeny-tiny clowns…or what they were so upset about.

While clowns come in all shapes and sizes, the tiny ones are the trickiest.  They come smaller than you’d think possible and they get into everything.  They wrote an amusing folk tail or two about one no bigger than a thumb…but the teeniest ones are often mistaken for a viral outbreak (clever).  When I agreed to have a wild party with that kooky bunch, I didn’t realize I’d be hosting it in my belly for three solid days (not solid…ugh!!!).

***Another page that did not make the final cut of our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown.”  The illustration, by John Allemand, was originally commissioned for the June 2003 cover of Analog Magazine.  -Marsha

robot, Sci-Fi

Designated Driver

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Designated Driver-85 ***Marsha is away, arguing with the publisher again, probably in a belligerent blind rage.  It’s okay though, she does her best work when she’s  angry…or drunk (or both).  As you can imagine, I’m used to it by now.  But while we’ve been busy finishing our new book, she had no time to do a clever story for this illustration.  It’s an old one, the 3rd assignment I ever did for Analog Magazine (out of nearly 100); a 2 page spread for the May, 2003 issue…..I still like it.  -John

Sci-Fi

Alien Space Battle Thing

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Alien Space Battle stuff-83

*****This is the 83rd post…and every 83rd post, Marsha takes a break and lets ME post one.  Hooray!  Marsha is away, arguing with the editor and publisher at EEW Books, trying to keep all her crappy mistakes IN the manuscript of our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown,” now that they’ve been edited out (and fixed).  It’s vanity and hubris to think her departure from proper English is her ‘artistic prerogative.’  She’ll argue and get concessions – and compliments – and come away satisfied…while the publishers will do whatever they want after she leaves, anyway.  It’s a messy, but necessary process….and it works.  Meanwhile, I’ve posted an illustration I did for the September ’06 issue of Analog Magazine, for a story by Edward M. Lerner.  It was a fun one to do…one of my favorites (though I’m no fan of war).  -John 

Sci-Fi

Roger!

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Roger-79 copy***No clever poetry this week and no flash fiction, just an old sketch originally done (by John) for Analog Magazine back in January ’04.  It seems to be the perfect image to illustrate the incredibly mediocre NJ Horror Con and Film Festival we worked last weekend.  NEXT weekend we’ll be sharing a table at the Great Philadelphia Comic Con in Oaks PA. with our good friend Richard Laslo, the Cel King.  After that, there will be no shows until our new book, “Bludgeon the Clown”, is done and published.  We’re still shooting for the first week in May for our release…but it will just have to take whatever time it takes.  -Marsha 

Clowns, Flash Fiction

Zebulon the Wizard

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Zebulon-71Zebulon The Wizard

Piscataway, NJ. Zebulon the Wizard (formerly Joey the Clown) was about as common as clowns come…but with a knack for burgling.  He was the best: clever, adaptable, insightful – qualities still highly regarded by the clown community.  Once a petty thief, Joey changed his stars by stealing a magical Christian spell book from a secret Vatican warehouse. With the recipes in his new book, he was able to build a ‘time cauldron’ through which he could reach forward – or back – in time and steal more stuff…..better stuff.

Zebulon let me use his cauldron a few times to document some of the great  historic clowns from the deep, dark, misty past.  Its how we know so much about Saint George the Clown (from 299 A.D.) and Barge the Giant (circa 1330).  Zeb got me a Tubakazoo for Christmas last year, its a popular folk instrument from the year 2232.  It makes a (terrible) whining wheeze like the sound of a horse being strangled…while gently farting (I got him that red wizard costume).

***”Zebulon” is a page that just got cut from the latest draft of my new book ‘Bludgeon the Clown.’  I’ve trimmed it down from 186 pages to 100, so I can keep production costs low enough to sell it to real people.  I hope to have it published and ready to bring to Comic Cons in the spring.  John and I thought it would be harder to cut our own beloved writing and art out…..turns out there was a lot of crap and fluff and redundancy in the older drafts.  The new book is better now and Zebulon will work better in a different project.  The image was originally a commission for a 2 page spread for an issue of Analog Magazine.  -Marsha