Synthetic Saints to be Published in 2012

My short novella, Synthetic Saints, has been accepted for publication. It will appear as an eBook in 2012.

Although Synthetic Saints is a science fiction story that incorporates many of the harder elements of its genre, the tale itself is more spiritual than material. It touches on death and the nature of the soul, and the ghosts that haunt our memories long after our loved ones have passed. Death is the inevitable end of life, yet we struggle as a race to cope with it. Synthetic Saints is an attempt to personify that struggle through the thoughts and memories of a fellow named Alex Hargreaves. Here is a brief excerpt:

Alex watched the small black frame cycle through Amanda's photographs, from her parents to her little sister, nameless friends she would never see again, and an older man in jeans and a cable-knit sweater. The man stood with his arm around Amanda's waist. She felt so alone, he thought. She fled the helpless love her family offered. He thought about Tycho and the Eden experiment and realized she had not come this far out to escape Massey's ghost. She had traveled eight hundred trillion miles to embrace it. She sought life on Tycho's frozen surface not because it would be mankind's greatest discovery, but because it formed a connection, a link of sorts between her life and Massey's death. "You weren't running from the past," he whispered. "You were running toward it."

He felt a sudden, overwhelming hatred for the dead woman. Her death had dragged him one hundred and forty light years from home, from the subtle scents still lingering in the pillows and the sheets, the towels and the drapes and the countless memories of his life with Emily. The house had remained unchanged since her death. Every color, every carefully placed picture and the countless books that lined the living room wall screamed Emily. Like Amanda's quarters, Emily's house lacked absence. He wanted desperately to hate her. She had left him behind, burdened with all the pain and sorrow that accompanied Mina's death. He wanted to blame her for everything, but in the end he could only blame himself for holding on as long as he had. Emily had been weak and selfish, but she had also been right. She was at peace while he was sitting on a dead girl's bed one hundred and forty light years from home.