Here are three pieces of free Jody Scott fiction from the blog "Censorable Ideas" on her website,
jodyscott.info. (Click link and then scroll down.) Over time I will be sharing more free fiction:
But all this will be only for subscribers to her newsletter "Jody Scott Info." (This is separate from a subscription to the blog- to which you can subscribe via email or reader on the right.)
The "newsletter" is not run by a publisher, it is a personal email from me, Mary Whealen, Jody's spouse for 30 years and the executor of her literary estate, sent out 4 or 5 times a year.
Of course I hope the newsletter helps to sell books, that is after all the only way to assure publishers continue to bring out more of Jody's books, but I don't share or otherwise seek to monetize your contact info. This is a labor of love, because I loved Jody and because I love her writing. As do many others from Neil Gaiman to William Burroughs.
Lest you assume I might be prejudiced, I invite you to peruse this site and read the reviews of and praise for Jody Scott.
On Nov 1st her next novel Devil May Care will be published and there will be a very special giveaway to launch it (so stay tuned for that!), and then in 2017 the "subscribers only" section of the website will come online.
I use MailChimp so it's easy for you to subscribe and unsubscribe.
If you are interested in free Jody Scott fiction, please subscribe using the form on the upper right.
The internet has lowered the huge monetary barrier to publishing, which permits greater freedom to publish a broader range of writing- which is a good thing. It has also produced a glut of stuff that should've remained unpublished- which makes it hard to wade through the clutter and find the worthwhile gems.
Jody Scott is one the gems, and for new readers who may not know her work, the following (written more than a dozen years ago) is still an excellent introduction to her extraordinary mind and writing.
As TimeOut magazine wrote of Jody's writing, "The reality you change may be your own."
Publishers tell me that you are too bovine, pampered, lazy and dependent on that feedbag of cloyingly pernicious flattery that has been hung on the American nose by corporate con artists--or to put it in plain English they say that YOU are too busy acting the part of a brainwashed zombie on the treadmill of a most asinine consumerism to desire anything in the way of literature that might be daring, or genuinely original, or subversive or Really Far Out instead of down on its flabby, trembling knees to the Same Old Same-Old that is being shoved down our collective throat like so much sugar-coated, Prozac-laced Ritalin sprinkled on the weird orange gunk that passes for cheese in what used to be America the Land of the Free (remember?), uh--excuse me; hold on a minute,
I may have gone too far here (...); URP! Gross. Horrible. Oy vey... Gag, choke, spew; choke some more; gasp, stumble to the curb and bend over...I may blow these awful cookies at any second but you do get the point, I hope. (wipes mouth, straightens manfully to continue diatribe in milder tone)
Is this point of view the truth, dear reader? Or is it just what the puppet masters want to be true?
Their deeply held, never admitted assumptions are that you are stupid, spoiled children who must be flattered, never spoken a difficult truth to and manipulated as "consumers" so as to form an efficient market for boring books which are merely commodities the same as widgets, computers or loaves of bread.
Ideas that truly challenge, writing that is truly original, these things do not fit neatly into an established slot and so will never be seen by YOU.
There exists an army of agents, editors, publicists, distributors, etc.,all of whom in the normal course of the insane world of publishing, will make damned sure of that.
But now with this wackazoid internet me and thee, dear reader, can actually (more or less) communicate directly. WOW!
So the purpose of this site is to entertain YOU, the reader--and to make you acquainted with the mind of Jody Scott, ME, the writer--an unconventional, iconoclastic, underappreciated, ink-stained wretch (like all writers).
So please read on if you are ready to experience something new and possibly unpleasant, painful, thrilling, enlightening, annoying or at least not within the bounds of ordinary conventional thinking-- otherwise why would I bother with the tough job of putting together such a website in the first place, huh, if not for your delectation in the interests of true communication for once in our pitifully unfree but idiotically boastful, short, painful yet wildly exhilarating little lives? Waddaya say, are you with me for a change, partner?
AN OUTRAGEOUSLY EXTRATERRESTRIAL LOOK AT THE HUMAN CONDITION
"Jody Scott knows that science fiction reaches the parts other fiction cannot reach. Like Philip K. Dick, she uses science fiction to question the meaning of reality and the nature of humanity- but saying that doesn't even hint at what a wild, original and outrageously funny writer she is."
When this sequel to Passing for Human and I, Vampire was written in the 1980s, it was rejected by all the major science fiction publishers who told Jody Scott it was “too far out” for commercial publication.
Now available in book form for the first time ever!
Rysemian operatives are here to help us evolve. Or Else. But first they must defeat archfiend Scaulzo, worshiped as the Prince of Darkness across many galaxies, but can the devil ever really be tamed?
Freewheeling cadet Benaroya has a plan- so audacious it might just succeed.
Recruit Virginia Woolf’s lover, lesbian vampire Sterling O'Blivion; send her to the mothership for training and rehab by George Patton and Nancy Reagan.
Detail Abe Lincoln and Douglas MacArthur to the 1950's to unravel the Gordian knot of human history, master the nuances of being a "respected male leader," survive Scaulzo's Agony Organ horrorshow that hypnotically invades their thoughts, and avoid going native.
Tapdance America's child-sweetheart to superstardom as a Rysemian evangelist. ("'I come to you humans from across the void,' Shirley roared in pulpits everywhere— standing on a pile of books.”)
Spring the ultimate, high-stakes trap for the devil; Benaroya the bait, Earth's fate in the balance.
“Jody Scott is like a mad cabby who knows most of the streets in town and knows where the laughs are – get into her rig and she'll take you on a fast and furious spin through America's ideological terrain.” –Michael Shea
"The greatest employment of science fiction in the service of satire. The best unknown SF writer."
-Fantasy & Science Fiction Magazine
On Sept 9, 2015 at 2:26 PM a tree fell across a power line near the town of Jackson California, causing a widespread local power outage and sparking a fire that was to become known as The Butte Wildfire. It rapidly grew to 14,500 acres.
Twelve hours later in the middle of the night my house was awakened by a reverse 911 call from the Sheriff's office, warning us to be prepared to evacuate.
In the pitch black darkness, by flashlight my elderly mother and I gathered her four cats and put them in carriers; we grabbed what necessary personal items we could think of....(What do you grab in the middle of the night? What really is essential?)
Carriers, pet food, bottled water, two suitcases, two briefcases of vital papers were piled in the front hall.
I dashed to the 2 dozen boxes of Jody Scott manuscripts, papers and correspondence I'd recently shipped down from Seattle to prepare for the archive that'd be their permanent home. What could I rescue? What was there room for after four cats, one dog and two humans with their necessary luggage? I grabbed one ream of collected-together stories- not half of the total but at least something. The novels were easier, one copy of each, but none of the preserved preliminary drafts, none of the hand-written first drafts.... and nothing of correspondence, professional or personal...
The irony if after years in storage, Jody's papers were lost just as I was preparing them to be preserved forever in an archive, was not lost on me.
And then we waited. And we waited. In a few hours my mother went back to bed. At some point I let the cats back out of the carriers; they'd been in them for hours.
When daylight came I drove to the nearby state park and hiked out to the point, site of a disused fire lookout. I'd never seen more than 1 or 2 people there, today there were a dozen and a half gathered as we stood looking south to where the fire was. If you stretched our right arm out as a 45 degree angle, it'd point to where the fire had started. If you did the same with your left arm, that's where it'd spread to overnight. But the steep canyon ravine of the Mokelumne river seemed to be stopping the fire some 2 miles distant. We could see lots of smoke, but no flames. It seemed to all of us that we were going to be OK.
I drove into Jackson to the Starbucks. Time for coffee after the tense sleepless night. Time to relax. I thought.
Then law enforcement personnel from Sacramento came in, they were on their way upcountry to help with mandatory evacuations. "Upcountry" was where I'd just come from.
We were evacuated on Sept 10, 2015 at apx. 10:30 AM. Our destination, the Jackson Rancheria Casino Resort where the Red Cross had set up shop.
We could only recapture two of the cats; the other two were on their own. I left out lots of food and water and hoped we'd see them again.
At the county fairgrounds, ACART (Amador County Animal Response Team) had established headquarters to take in and care for pets and livestock for as long as people needed. For free. That's where our pets stayed. Later Laughton Ranch in Jackson took in livestock and horses as well. Plus similar operations in Calaveras County. Local businesses donated livestock feed, pet food and supplies. Hundreds of volunteers worked thousands of man hours caring for the livestock and pets of people they would probably never meet.
At the casino, where I was lucky enough to nab a room, we watched black smoke filled the sky in the shape of a gigantic mushroom cloud. The winds shifted and the air filled with smoke; I sincerely hoped the authorities who'd gathered us all in this location knew what they were doing because it looked far too close and menacing.
Cots were set up in every available convention space, a cafeteria and gathering room was filled with rows and rows of tables. The casino fed us abundantly and well. The Sheriff's Office and CalFire provided twice daily updates. As more and more people poured in, eventually the entire hotel, the entire RV park and several overflow parking lots were also given over to house and feed fire evacuees.
I cannot praise highly enough the generosity of Jackson Rancheria Casino Resort that took such good care of us all. If you are ever in this part of California, please do patronize them.
The evacuees, forced from their homes, sleeping on cots with no privacy, no idea if they'd have a home to go back to, or when, behaved with stellar aplomb and civility. Everyone rallied in a way that showed the nobility and intrinsic goodness of people.
After 5 days we were able to return home. We were lucky. The fire never did reach my town, instead it turned south and devastated, in some cases destroyed the small communities of Calaveras County.
The fire burned for another 2 weeks, destroying nearly 900 homes and outbuildings, and burning over 70,000 acres. Two people were killed. And this wasn't even the worst fire of the fall of 2015. Soon the Valley fire would prove even more destructive.
On Facebook someone posted video taken with their phone as they evacuated; it is well worth clicking over there to watch it. As much as anything can it takes you into what the experience feels like. I sincerely wish none of you ever experience it for real.
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