11:25am, 9th August 2019
In my defence, it has been a year. As was 2018. As was 2017. Hmm. But it'll let up at some point, right?
Herewith, then, a few overdue updates collected together as briefly as I can manage (he says, laughing)
Matt Dovey is a writer of science fiction and fantasy short stories. He is very tall, very British, and most likely drinking a cup of tea right now. Although his surname rhymes with “Dopey”, any other similarities to the dwarf are purely coincidental.
He is an associate editor at PodCastle, a member of Codex Writers and the Villa Diodati writers group, and gives far too much attention to his Twitter. You can start reading stories now, for free: there's 19 to choose from so far, but if you're not sure where to start he'd recommend The Bone Poet & God for fantasy or The Ghosts of Europa Will Keep You Trapped in a Prison You Make for Yourself for science fiction. You can also listen to him narrate others' stories, or find out more about him.
Vikram watches with growing uncertainty as Isaac turns round and around, searching for a landmark in the heavy fog. Neon signs glow through it like stars, tinted green by the algae; it's like a rainbow galaxy surrounds them, dotted with light. They may as well be floating in a nebula cloud for all they can see of San Francisco, anyway.
Vik signs a question. Their face-masks muffle whispers, and they daren't raise their voices and alert any drones, of course. They're not stupid. Every SF kid knows sign language for fog running, and Vik has picked it up fast since moving here from Sacramento.
Do you know where you're going? Vik exaggerates the signs so they're obvious even through plastic goggles. Every inch of skin is covered for them both.