Archives for posts with tag: info-horror

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I knew I’d feel the itch again at some point. Losing my shot at Angry Robot books with Hash reminded me that life is a game of constant production, and really, I’ve always envisioned Hash as one of a (loose) trilogy. With great pleasure, I announce the start of work on Pulp, the second in this series of books.

True to the title, Pulp will be tilted toward noir-style storytelling and aesthetic but still within the world and timeline that housed Hash‘s City of the Future. Where did it start? It started with my fascination with the unsung hero of the noir world: the Hotel Detective (link, only mildly related).

And just to kick things off, I present a few notes that I’d taken over the last day or two about some of the twists and turns:

  • “Hotels” are actually ██████: the detectives themselves reside in ██████, as ███ but hold a single ████
  • Tommy and Marissa, after ██████, stumble into this world in the ███████
  • The big reveal: The world has actually been ███████
  • “Andy” is a mysterious ██████.
  • Andy is thought by Tommy and Marissa to be ████, but then discover he’s ████████ by ███████ in Hash.

As you can see, there’s a lot to ████ and I’m incredibly ██████ to ████ as soon as possible. Stay tuned, and of course, I’ll be working out other angles for Hash to see the light of day.

After taking up valuable Twitterspace blathering about info-horror, I decided I’d take a shot at it in my spare time; I’m proud to present “Limbs“, a 3,000 word short story, a combination of info- and body- horror set in a far-future where human sentinels are stored on disk until needed to make critical strategic decisions.

One of these decision-makers has just winked back into consciousness, reconstructed to deal with a impending crisis, but realizes quickly that something has gone wildly wrong with the reconstruction process leaving him ill-equipped to act, or even think: half of him is missing. As the crisis escalates around him and the minutes to utter annihilation tick down, he grows aware of his critical role, realizing that the reconstruction accident may not be so accidental after all.

Read “Limbs” by Charles Cox

In 1991, a quiet group of policymakers and scientists convened in a conference room in Oslo, Norway. The title of their discussion was innocuous: “Transmittal of Information Over Extremely Long Periods of Time”.

The actual subject of the talk was a near-impossible problem: communicating – in text, pictures, or voice, the lethal dangers of a sealed nuclear waste site to a society that stumbles across it as far as 100,000 years in the future.

The only recommendation? Create a religion to keep people out of the site.

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