Once every generation there is a Chosen One, who will stand between humanity and darkness.
But why is the Chosen One so often a teenager? Why do only children get swept through portals to save the fantastic world on the other side? Whose idea was it to put the fate of the world in the hands of someone without a fully developed prefrontal cortex?
In Never Too Old to Save the World, nineteen authors explore what would happen if the Chosen One were called midlife.
Never Too Old to Save the World is an anthology to be published by Outland Entertainment, co-edited by Alana Joli Abbott and Addie J. King. I was invited to contribute and wrote the short story “Granny” specifically for this project.
The list of contributors includes, in part: John F. Allen, J.D. Blackrose, Maurice Broaddus, Sarah Hans, Jim C. Hines, Ericka “Princess” Kahler, Linda Robertson, Lucy A. Snyder, LaShawn W. Wanak, plus a story by editor Addie J. King. And this is just a list of authors I have a history with and admire. (Incidentally, please take a moment to click these author links, sign up for their newsletters, check out their books. It took a long time to add those links, and it goes a long way toward the support of great genre fiction. Please and thank you.)
Needless to say, I’d very much like to see the anthology get fully funded, so click this link to review their tiers and please add your support.
Author Reading this Friday
I’m thrilled to be part of a group author event in support of the Never Too Old to Save the World Kickstarter in which I’ll read a small excerpt from “Granny”. I’ll be one of ten authors previewing their story.
The event happens online Friday night July 29 @ 8-10 PM EST, and is FREE to attend, but does require you to RSVP ahead of time. Click here to do that!
Preview of “Granny”
The story begins
As was her habit, Granny sat on her rocker on the cluttered front porch of the one-story family home, watchful of her neighbors. Her ancient eyes peered through the antique opera glasses to center on the house down the street. “I don’t like the looks of it, Gregory.” When she spoke, she addressed the garden gnome statuette facing her from the brick ledge surrounding the porch. As was its habit, it sat, watchful of Granny.
She continued to peer through the glasses. A car pulled up, and a group of three teenagers proceeded up a cobblestone path to the house. One of the teens knocked on the door, and, as Granny spied from between her hedges, a package and a folded bill exchanged hands between the visitors and the home’s occupant.
Granny set the glasses onto the table and grabbed up her wireless telephone receiver. She paused a moment to regard the petrified gnome. “Don’t just look at me, Gregory. Tell me what you think.”