Rebecca M. Douglass, Author

I first wrote and shared this story in 2016. You can draw your own conclusions about those seven brothers ;)   Blanche and the Seven Brothers   Blanche looked around the dingy cottage and nodded. It was as it should be. Just like in the stories. She’d be all right there.   Blanche had made her escape from the usual home problems. Pa was all right, mostly, but Marjorie—no way was Blanche ever going to call that woman “Ma”—was a real piece of work, and Pa was too weak to stop her. Whatever went on in this cottage, it would be better than staying with her. And the cottage was really rather charming under the dirt. It just needed the touch of a good woman to straighten things up, like the stories said.   The occupants would be laborers, of course. They always were. And there would be seven of them. Always seven—a lot to take care of but Blanche was used to hard work. It wouldn’t be bad at all, if they treated her well. And they would, because that was the ...

Ha! it took me until well into Saturday, but I have for you an all-new story, the 20th installment in the adventures of Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer.         Xavier Xanthum and the Unsettling Settlers   “I don’t think this was a good idea.” Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, found the words uttered by his ship’s AI to be both true and pointless.   The spears aimed at him from all sides were, alas, all too pointed. Xavier attempted a tried and true approach. “I come in peace.”   “And you’ll go in pieces.” The response came so quickly that Xavier knew it hadn’t gone through the translator box.   “What the hell? You speak Galactic Common? Here?” Oops. Not tactful.   Larry, the AI, gave him a local history lesson. “New Home was settled about ten generations back by a group opposed to all tech. They spent the first two or three hundred standard years eliminating any tech that came with them, even most machinery.” ...

I haven't published a story about Xavier Xanthum, Space Explorer, since sometime in 2020, and I thought it was about time. Imagine my surprise when I found that I seem to have a story I wrote and never published (I'm not sure why; evidence suggests I eventually used it as a writing sample when applying for an artist residency). I may simply have given up; 2020 was a difficult year. In any case, I clearly wrote the story to highlight the birds of New Zealand, and it was kind of fun revisiting some of them. I've included a couple of photos at the end to match at least one of the birds mentioned. It's just over 1100 words.   It’s for the Birds   “Larry, are there any unexplored planets in this sector?” The Wanderlust ’s AI took a moment to respond. Even a computer needs time to review all the planets in a sector as crowded as their current location, or so Larry would have him believe. “Negative, Captain. There appears to have been at least a preliminary review of ...

I wrote a partial draft of this during the last session of the writing class I've been teaching, then realized I needed a different approach, so I rewrote it, cut it down by several hundred words (it's still too long, at 1140 words), and here it is.    Seatmates Keri James settled into the window seat at 47A with an air of excitement that drew cynical smiles from her fellow-passengers. A sixteen-hour flight in economy class wasn’t going to be fun for any of them. Keri knew that. They’d have to use a crowbar—or a crane—to get her out of her seat when they reached Aukland. She’d drooled over the business-class seats, with their little cubicles and seats that made up into beds. On her budget, she’d have to settle for airsickness meds that would put her to sleep. Keri occupied herself with setting up her little space, everything she might want during the flight within reach. She’d change to slippers once they were airborne. Earbuds, e-reader… she knew what she was doing. I...

True to my promise, I'm working on writing flash fiction again for your reading pleasure! I drafted this a couple of weeks ago at the writing class I'm teaching, and spiffed it up a bit, cutting it down to 1000 words.  I've had laryngitis all week, which is amazingly frustrating. It's a good thing I mostly don't have anyone to talk to or I'd go nuts! Anyway, the next story might need to include someone who can't speak, but thinks a lot :D Invincible   Marla surveyed the building while she pulled on a hairnet and tied a scarf tightly over top of that. Not a hair would escape to say she’d been there, let alone provide a DNA tracer. Gloves, long sleeves, the works. No traces. With one last look around for observers, though who could see anything through the stygian darkness of a blackout on a rainy night was a mystery she didn’t care to solve, Marla began to climb. Buying the blackout had been the risky part, but by the time it was done the bribes were at...