If I were the sort of person who confused correlation with causation, I would seriously think about quitting writing.
2025 was a hard year. 2026 was, almost right from the start, a terrible year. An onslaught of shady, bigoted legislation made life measurably worse for me, my family, and our community. While I’m proud to say that I scraped together enough grit to get up and speak out about what was happening—in as prominent a market as Harper’s Bazaar as well as in front of my friends and neighbors—it’s hard to overstate just how devastating it’s been to my mental health to have the state and federal governments working overtime on weekends to see me eliminated.
Simultaneously, if I were to look only at my writing career? 2025 was a pretty great year, and 2026 was even better. I sold my first novella to Android Press, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to have this story out in the world. I’ve sold six stories, with one coming out in Kaleidotrope in the near future. And while I’ve finished writing only a couple of stories this year, I’m closing in on the final act of my first novel, which I’m even more hyped about.
Best of all, I’ve had a staggering nine speculative fiction stories published this year. Here’s a little bit about each of them, for your enjoyment (as a reader) or information (as an awards nominator):
“Sin Crouches at the Entrance” – science fiction short story appearing January 2026 in issue 5 of The Daily Tomorrow. A pregnant woman on a faraway planet desperately clings to the last tattered threads of human culture.
I don’t claim to be an expert on pregnancy or Jewish mysticism, but this story is heavy with both. As I explain in my author afterword, I’ve grown to believe that some of the most valuable and significant achievements in human culture belong to the most persecuted communities, and that legacy belongs to all of us to carry into the future—even to those of us who feel least qualified to represent our forebears.“The Visitor” – science fiction short story appearing January 2026 in issue 75 of The Future Fire. What happens when you meet yourself and are repulsed by what you encounter? And if that other you needs help, how far are you willing to go to help them?
This was one of the first stories I ever wrote in my professional career. It explores some speculative ground that is especially well-trod for trans folks, in works up to and including Blue Neustifter’s “Unknown Number.”“Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone” – science fiction short story appearing March 2026 in Luna Station Quarterly issue 65. A New Orleans trad jazz jam session on a distant planet grows tense. With piano-playing alien bugs!
In the first week of my teacher training program, my professor gave us this sage advice: “When you start at a new school, don’t make friends right away. The people who approach you first will be the ones with their own politics or drama they’re trying to pull you into.” This is as true in schools and musical communities and expat circles as it is (presumably) in migrant laborer camps on alien planets. By any objective metric, this story has the most jazz banjo of anything I’ve ever written. So far, anyway.“Knit One Make One” – science fiction short story appearing March 2026 in Spring Into SciFi 2026 Volume 1. A young woman struggles against her stifling community, a tiny eco-village on a distant planet.
Along with the next story in this list, this one was born of an idea I’ve really hung onto during this difficult period: even if queerness were completely eradicated from history and culture, we’d invent it all over again. There’s no power in the galaxy that can stop us from growing back. This story also takes inspiration from my feeble attempts at knitting and a visit to an intentional community I considered moving to back in 2015. Unlike the protagonist, I bear no particular animosity toward sheep.“It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” – science fiction short story appearing in the benefit anthology Dance When They Want You to Cower. Three visitations by a rock wandering through space, heralding epochs of fear and oppression and rebirth for queer folks.
This is a hard story to discuss without spoiling the reveal in the final act. It’s three short vignettes, each a century and change apart, presented in reverse chronological order. The working title was “Moments of Gold, Flashes of Light,” and while I’m still convinced that’s the better title, it had to be changed for legal reasons. Extra special thanks to Laura Landauer, whose breathtaking performance at Toronto Fringe Festival 2024 was the inspiration for this story.“Radio Free Luna, Signing Off” – science fiction short story published May 12, 2026 in Solarpunk Magazine #27. Queer activists struggle for survival on the moon as they find themselves allied with a mysterious pirate radio DJ. Also available in audio form by the Demand Utopia podcast.
I was absolutely insufferable while writing this story. If that’s not a high enough recommendation, ask me nicely and I’ll share the playlist I listened to while writing it.“Freebooter” – science fiction short story published June 19, 2026 as Escape Pod episode 1050. The intrigues and adventures of French transgender Marxist robot pirates.
I am beyond proud of how this story came out. I so often find myself torn in the opposing directions of goofy and melancholy with my spec fic, and this is a rare instance where I think I split the difference perfectly.“The Other Side” – slipstream flash story appearing June 29, 2026 in the poetry and fiction anthology Made from Midnight: Delirium by Poets in the Pines. A bizarre, dreamy thought experiment about snails and reality.
I was interviewed about this story on the Poets in the Pines podcast, where I dropped such gems as, “We are all brains in our own jars trying to communicate what’s going on inside.”“Desire Paths” – science fiction short story appearing in Parsec’s Triangulation: Bad Romance anthology. An exploration of a bizarre space phenomenon that reveals the darkness that can make a nest in an affectionate relationship. The editor of this anthology referred to it as “more lesbians in space,” accurately.
This is one of those stories I wrote for a specific call, and one of the very few of those that was accepted for that anthology. My friend Meg pointed out that most of my fiction features wholesome, supportive partnerships, which says a lot of good things about my wonderful wife Jenn. (Meg is a very perceptive person.)
If you find yourself with the desire and ability to nominate or vote for stories for this year’s awards season, I’d be mighty honored if you submitted one of mine.
And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, 2027 can be a year that’s good for writing and better for human beings all at the same time.
