C Murry

@lennwrites

writer | desert rat, actual cat | nerd, sci-fi and mythology 💫🪐 ✩ they/she ✩ queer ✩ neurodivergent ✩ 31 🚫A/I 🚫cen/sorship #querying Wanderlust and the Sea #writing Fault Lines bg—my Deuceridge boys—by 4xl_j0y (X) pfp by bora.panda (Insta)

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C Murry@lennwrites· Jun 8

Last day of FanFusion and the con crash is crashing hard! But always an amazing weekend; already looking forward to next year! 🥹

a person with short russet hair, dressed in a black button down and a red paisley vest, tips a fedora; horns poke through the fedora, and the ace of spades is tucked into a red ribbon band around the hat; they wear a Phoenix Fan Fusion lanyard

C Murry@lennwrites· May 16

bonus: quintessential cat dismount

a black cat leaping down from a screen door

C Murry@lennwrites· May 16

it’s currently his favorite activity; love this crazy little guy so much #cats #catsky

a black cat clinging to a security screen door in order to look outside

C Murry@lennwrites· Apr 27

#AwesomeCharacters For sure! In Faultverse, Mara and Nym are lesbians! 🧡🩷🤍 In fact, a decent chunk of later plot hinges on Nym going “ohnoshespretty”, tripping and falling. 😅 They’re very good for one another, in many ways. art by lytiic.carrd.co! 1/2

two girls, one hugging the other from behind; Mara, left, is taller and dressed in black, with shoulder-length wavy brown hair, and smiles fondly; Nym, behind her, is dressed in a green shirt and gray slacks, her bobbed hair silver and cut asymmetrically; Nym rests her head against Mara’s shoulder, affectionate, eyes closed as she wraps her arms around Mara’s waist

C Murry@lennwrites· Apr 15

A snip from Embers, my sf novella WIP 🔥 #wipsnips #sff #writesky

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Israa stared at the heater, glowing faintly with its output of warmth. She thought of the apex—Wheston, she corrected, making herself use his name—and how he’d curled up beside it during the few nights he’d spent with them. It was the closest he’d ever gotten to the group on his own initiative. Agraive’s apex, capable of maintaining its optimal body temperature through seventeen-hour nights that could dip below freezing. Yet he’d slunk into their midst and curled up like a stray stxcat beside a humming ship’s engine. She’d been able to count his vertebrae.
<i>“I’m not stupid.”</i> That had caught her by surprise—he’d said so little in his short time with them, highly articulate but only within the needs of the assignment. She turned the words and tone over in her mind—dry and sardonic, just a hint of gallows humor. <i>Or am I reading too deeply into it?</i>
“I think he knows,” she said, slowly, “how poor his chances are.”
“Suicide with extra steps, do you think?” Viray asked, halfway into her sleeping bag.
Israa shook her head, gaze still on the gently glowing heater. “I don’t know. I hope not.”
“For our sake? Or for his?”
Israa let out a breath heavy with apprehension. “Both, dearest. Both, I fear.”

C Murry@lennwrites· Apr 11

You can hear a theme song from a gif.

C Murry@lennwrites· Apr 10

Dance is a HUGE motif in Deuceridge. Kade, Asher, and Miriam are all excellent dancers in a number of styles. Conrad is… well, he’s certainly got the spirit 😅 #QueerPrompts

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“You invited me to dance,” he said, when she gave him a put-upon look. He pulled her close, coaxing her into a little twist of their hips. “Let’s dance.”
Miriam laughed softly, kissed him, and obliged. In an open hold, they pranced through brisk triple steps and indulgent twirls. The lead slipped occasionally from Kade to his doll; when he and Asher had learned the coaster step and the Charleston and the anchor step together, they had often switched off. Miriam had long ago learned, and didn’t mind, this peculiarity of her favorite dance partner.
They traveled across the dance floor, never still, a bouncing glide that suited the jaunty music. For Kade, the dance was confession; for Miriam, it was communion. Though lost in the
crush of people, they stood out, radiant, among the milieu. They spun briefly apart at times, but found one another again as if joined by a tether, their hands entwining. Neither ran short of
breath, but nor did they hold energy in reserve—they danced as though it were the last hand of a card game, all-in. They danced as though life were only the Lindy Hop

C Murry@lennwrites· Mar 7

Today’s #WIPSnips is the perfect reason to share something from the opening paragraphs of the novella WIP, Embers! #WritingCommunity #sff

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Wheston hunched in the shifting sand, mired in inarticulate thought, hollowed by hunger. Chill had robbed his skin of color, the scars on the backs of his bony hands standing out in lurid mauve against gray.

He quivered, spine straightening, still crouched but arching up on the balls of his feet. He heard the shuffling steps of his pursuit, angling his ears towards it. He breathed with intention, stoking warmth in his chest and letting it seep back into his muscles, needing them to be loose enough to move. He quivered, his breath appearing in the still air, and he resented that escaped warmth.

C Murry@lennwrites· Feb 20

A snippet of conversation from fairly late in WatS, hence the redaction, but too perfect not to share for this! Kade and Conrad are foils in countless ways—the “hero” and “villain” roles they choose to play, and the authenticity of those roles, among them. #SFFChat

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expected. Hope flared up in him. “It’s not our responsibility,” Conrad said, needing to try. “Heroes are fun to read about, but that’s fiction, sure as shine.”
“You’re appallingly self-involved,” Kade said.
“You, of all people, can’t sneer at me for that,” Conrad retorted.
“Even the most wretched have things they’ll fight for.”
Conrad shifted. “The gambler shows his hand.”
“Only what you need to see,” Kade said. “Don’t think you can guess at the cards up my sleeve.”
“You’re still talking about [redacted],” Conrad said. “Is one of your hidden aces that sort of resolve? I know I’m no hero, but do you really think you’re such a villain?”
“You know what they call me.”
“I’ve heard,” Conrad said, and felt a flutter of anxiety. <i>Kade the Spade</i>. Still, he said, “I think it’s as much a con as your card tricks.”

C Murry@lennwrites· Feb 17

One snip from each book; forgive me, I couldn’t decide! for Fault Lines—Caleb thinks about Sachial’s eyes a LOT for Deuceridge—Conrad has complicated feelings about the ocean #snippetshare #WritingCommunity

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Caleb softened. It had taken him so long to decide, beyond doubt, that Sachial’s eyes were gray. Even in that moment they looked dark enough to be mistaken for true black, inky little pools of self-pity. But whenever he grew impassioned—
“Whether you’re on about the Council’s grand, self-serving schemes, or how gullible our classmates are, or how delicious sweet potato pie is…” <i>Then I can see they’re gray. And they’re the prettiest gray, Sachial.</i> “You’re so alive when you’re talking about something like that. I love to see you that way. That’s why I listen, even if I don’t agree with a word of it.”
Sachial regarded him, a hint of disbelief in his furrowed brows. “You don’t agree with me about sweet potato pie? Now that’s something you’ve never told me.”

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Conrad couldn’t see the ocean from street-level, but he knew it was there—he always knew it was there, just a few miles to the east. He felt it, felt pulled towards it, and now gazed off at the distant sky with its mottling of leftover, impotent storm clouds.
<i>If I were to just leave…</i> he thought, feeling Clarence Ward shifting impatiently at his side, a contrast to his trance-like stillness. <i>I could start walking… and just…</i>
He gave himself a brisk shake, making Ward startle and curse. Conrad fixed his gaze on the filthy concrete beneath his feet.
“You good, kiddo?”
“Don’t call me that.” Conrad forced his eyes up, disaffected. “And I’m fine.”
Ward frowned around his cigarette, but he said nothing. Conrad breathed in deeply, feeling the hammering of his pulse calm a bit. The sea was far, far to the east—miles away, many hours’ worth of travel even by car, belonging to an entirely different lifetime.

C Murry@lennwrites· Feb 17

Having a darn near religious experience with this Turkish coffee ✨☕️

two small to-go cups of coffee in front of a bag that reads “Lokum, Turkish Delight & Baklava”

C Murry@lennwrites· Feb 10

Something from my WIP Embers! I’m so very excited about what it’s becoming. Wheston IS human—just not the standard base model. #WIPSnips #SF #WritingCommunity #WriteSky

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“Then answer this, at least: what are you?”
“What are you?” Thēall replied, trying for an imperious tone.
“Human,” Wheston answered, without hesitation or wryness.
Thēall looked quizzical. “No, you aren’t.”
Wheston bore blunt, standard-issue teeth in a grin. “Pure-blooded homo sapien.”
Thēall’s expression flattened—a child absolutely certain they were the target of a joke. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. Born naturally, too—no careful selection from a gene bank for me. Plenty of selection later on, though. Deliberate selection and crafting.”

C Murry@lennwrites· Feb 1

Civilization is built upon fault lines—some well-mapped and others undefined. Sachial thinks the whole world is out to get him; he may well be right. Caleb doesn't believe a word Sachial says, but he always listens. #QuestPit #W #sf #lgbt

a moodboard for Fault Lines

upper left: the upper portion of a sword leaning against a stone wall
middle left: flickering flame against a black background
lower left: a slab of stone underwater; the water appears disturbed, bubbly
upper middle: a spacious stone cavern with water at the bottom
true middle: "The Fault in the Lines"
lower middle: a pipe against a background of stone
upper right: a cloud-shrouded mountaintop
middle right: a closeup of blue scales
lower right: a closeup of a person walking across the surface of water

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 31

“What makes you think it’s still here?” Ward asked. Conrad was silent for a long moment, gazing at nothing; he laid his head down, hiding his eyes in the crook of one elbow. “A feeling. People—humans, aliens, whatever—don’t just leave Deuceridge. No one escapes this city.” #QuestPit #Q #sff #f

moodboard for Wanderlust and the Sea
the title reads “Wanderlust and the Sea”, with the subtitle “a queer urban science fiction novel”

far left: a grayscale, distorted city-scape
upper middle: falling playing cards, the Ace of Spades poised on its corner
true middle: the feet of a dancing couple, dressed formally
lower middle: a silhouette holding a lit cigarette, gazing out at a starry night sky
far right: a sunset-lit sea-scape, with a crescent moon visible above

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 28

LEGALLY required to post Deuceridge for this one. Storms, both literal and metaphorical, abound. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

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Kade looked again to the window as the cab slowed for a traffic light. His gaze found a figure trudging along the side of the road, sandy hair stiff with dirt and feet dragging, tattered lavender shirt slung over one shoulder. Like a hazy beam of sunlight lost amid city smog and storm clouds, the young man seemed misplaced. Kade shouted for the driver to wait, stumbled from the car before it had come to a full stop.
“Asher!”
Asher looked up, life coming to his weary gray-blue eyes. “Kade.” He clasped both of Kade’s hands when they reached out to him. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine, fine,” Kade said, squeezing his hands. “What are you doing here? In Deuce? Why are you—? What’s—?”

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 26

Got one from the very first line of the Fault Lines chapter I’m rewriting! I’ve been messing with the wording, and I’m sure this isn’t QUITE the final version, but I like it. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

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Caleb led them through the Lines; to Sachial, this felt like their first true assignment. The apprehension and dread, the scorn that had shadowed their earlier decent belonged to a prior chapter, a prologue to their real lives. Now he felt only driving purpose. This must be what compelled Caleb to commit himself so wholly to a cause. Caleb’s cause was, of course, idiotic, but to seize upon such a certainty of will—Sachial understood the appeal.

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 26

(cw: referenced animal death) #critterary I’ve got two mummified pups from a short story, The Dogs of Saqqara Feru (left) was sent ahead by her master to intercede for him. Amal (right) was purchased as a votive sacrifice by a pilgrim. Both wander the desert, unable—as of yet—to rest. art cred ⬇️

Two mummified dogs stand in a luminous desert night, the stars and mood visible above, the pyramids in the distance. The dog on the left (Feru) is taller, with once-silken ears and tail, and wears a collar. The dog on the right (Amal) is small, a puppy, and has a lame hind leg.

art by godbirdart.bsky

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 13

Ah, the stiletto blade—looks wicked, often a work of art in terms of craftsmanship… breaks unfortunately easily in an actual fight, no matter what the movies might lead you to believe. #Deuceridge #WritingCommunity

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“It’s similar to tarot,” Asher said, bringing out his deck. “The suits tend to line up, roughly. But playing cards have their own unique lore, too. Like the ace of spades, for instance.” He flipped over the topmost card—the named ace. “If we’re going by tarot meanings, it would line up with the ace of swords, referring to new ideas. But in a playing card reading, it comes up to signify death.”
“Are you calling me the grim reaper?” Kade asked, smirking. A dagger sprang into his hand, a stiletto blade with an onyx spade embedded in the hilt. He flipped and spun it, a razor-edged version of his tricksy shuffles. His eyes never leaving the flashing blade, he said, “I’ll take folks’ money all day long, but I don’t want their lives or their souls.”
“Just an example,” Asher said; with a shrug, he folded the card back into the deck and shuffled. “It’s interesting, though. You might actually like it.”
“I’ll pass.” The dagger vanished harmlessly back up Kade’s sleeve.

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 10

#BluePitHype I’m not much of an artist—one day, at least as far as concept sketches go!—but commissioning art is one of my FAVORITE things! 1 & 2) Kade and Conrad from the Deuceridge duology 3) Sachial and Caleb from Fault Lines (faultverse) 4) Svai and Raeiz from the space opera WIP (spiteverse)

Amazing art by Sollandr Box!

A mock playing card, the Ace of Spades, depicting Kade (“the Spade”) Merisi. He wears a long sleeve collared black shirt and a red paisley vest; he has brown skin and russet hair, and has a shifty little showman’s smile. He’s shuffling playing cards, the deck mid “spring” between his hands.

$Amazing art by Sollandr Box! Conrad—in a long gray coat, sincerely hair tied back in a ponytail—stands proudly, looking down at the POV; he’s lit dramatically by a fractured piece of technology, fragments of metal floating among pale blue, glowing light.$

Sachial—coppery skin, black hair tied back halfway in a bun—pulls Caleb—fair skin, short wavy brown hair—down for a kiss; his eyes are closed, but Caleb’s are slightly open, gazing down with tender affection. They both sport small rainbows painted on their cheeks 🌈

The artist’s tag reads @bisexuwhale, and was commissioned on Flight Rising a few years ago; I’m on the hunt for the artist’s current socials, if anyone can help!

Incredible art by JoeyHazell!

A human—dark-skinned, with curly brown hair, wearing sunglasses and in a rainbow-striped crop top—waves the pansexual flag. He’s next to an alien—pale blue skinned, with silver hair and bristle-brush antenna tied up in a bun, one (1) snaggletooth—waving a demisexual flag. Each of them has a hand on the other’s hip. Raeiz, the human, is grinning, while Svai, the alien, has a calmer smile.

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 7

terrified, unprepared, CANNOT WAIT for it to hijack my hyper-focus and derail literally everything else

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 7

#Critterary One of my back-burnered projects features a pair of hellhounds—with a working title like “doggos from heck”, I’ve gotta bring it up on dog day! Called Ren and Neer, respectively, they’re about as opposite in personality and motives as can be. I’ve gone back and forth 1/3

a black canine with redish highlights in his fur and bright red eyes; he’s thin and his fur is scraggly, but his ears are up in a friendly manner and his tail is relaxed, as is his stance; he appears to be smiling, mild-mannered

a black canine with redish highlights in his fur and bright red eyes; he’s solidly built, bearing his teeth with his ears are back, his stance braced aggressively and his tail fluffed; he sports a number of scars

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 6

From Fault Lines’ prologue! (we haven’t met Sachial by name, yet, but that’s him going on about his thesis—as he is wont to do) #wipsnips #writesky

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… Civilization functions.” He beamed. “I wrote a masterpiece.”
“A masterpiece?” Though curious to see how he would carry on, left unchecked, Caleb couldn’t keep from asking, “Change the way Civilization functions? Why would you want to?”
The first-year’s gaze refocused, sharp with irritation. “Because Civilization is flawed! It’s dismally stagnant. Humanity survives, yes, but that’s a disgracefully low marker. Do we conquer our environment, or do we barter with it for our meager existence? We trade the lives of Soldiers for our fragile stability, when we have the potential to do so much more. Do you know what I wrote my thesis on?”
“That was what you were telling me,” Caleb said—dryly, but with a creeping amusement despite himself.

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 4

qtp with your favorite pokémon! (wrong answers only)

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 4

#Critterary I just described a short story I’m working on as “oops, cats all the way down” 😆 Which isn’t a bad thing—I love cats in any and all contexts—I just wasn’t expecting them to be such an omnipresent theme in this one!

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humanity into touch with the larger universe. The stxcats, so omnipresent now on space stations, had begun with Earth stock—cats brought along on ships, as pets and mousers and fortune charms, gradually going spindly and graceful to suit the lower gravity and sparse hunting. General feeling about humanity was mixed, but most everyone could agree that stxcats were a worthwhile addition to the galactic landscape.

C Murry@lennwrites· Jan 2

yknow what? say less, zero complaints 😂

C Murry@lennwrites· Dec 30

why is this playing IN SPROUTS at six pm on a Monday night and DO THEY REALLY EXPECT ME NOT TO DANCE??

Shazam screenshot of Rasputin (Live) by Boney M.

C Murry@lennwrites· Dec 25

I think the peppermint brownies are a success?? They certainly smell like it! Eagerly waiting for the lil’ sample batch to cool (the other two are headed out as gifts) 😋

two and a quarter batches of peppermint brownies cooling on a stovetop; one of those little straw animal decorations—a fox with antlers?? wearing glasses and a scarf and a Santa hat—is in the background

C Murry@lennwrites· Dec 24

(“200-something” in this scene was originally me forgetting about the 1920s-now conversion, but it was so absurdly funny that I’ve yet to change it)

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… unmoored himself. "How much do people usually pay for this tripe? A dollar?" As though dealing, he laid a ten on the table. "Two?" Another. "Three?" A third.
Asher reluctantly met his gaze, frowning. "I won't take your money, Kade."
"It's not mine," Kade replied. "It's Clarence Ward's, actually. Trust me, you'll make better use of it than he would have."
Asher arched an eyebrow, seeming to
shake off some of his disconcertment. Kade breathed easier. "Ward? Oh right, Milton's boy."
"He's a lot less shrewd than his dear old
dad," Kade said. "I forget how long you've
actually been gone from Deuce."

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own. What irked him was the sheer and
unbecoming inanity of some of what Ward got up to. A week ago he'd half-dragged himself into Conrad's workplace bragging about how he'd spent the whole night scrapping with some upstart gang in Lohr Park. Even more recently, reminding Conrad that fiscal irresponsibility had its place on his list of faults, he'd borrowed two hundred and thirty-some dollars—didn't have it on hand, he'd said, didn't keep those types of liquid assets lying around—after gambling with Kade Merisi. Everyone in Deuce should know better than to partake in that passtime, though most wound up indulging in it from time to time. Conrad thought it was a small miracle that Ward had made it through the prior day's storm without finding a way to half-drown himself.

C Murry@lennwrites· Dec 23

TEN YEARS AGO I started writing Fault Lines! The document is just labeled “Tannin 1”, as there wasn’t so much as a working title. This scene from Chapter 1 has stayed quite similar, and Sachial and Caleb are both recognizable as themselves, if more refined (not to mention the writing, hoboy!).

C Murry@lennwrites· Dec 22

Blessed Winter Solstice! ❄️🕯️