Contributors

James Tiptree, Jr.
Contributor History
  • Favored by Strange Gods: A Selection of Letters to Joanna Russ, Conjunctions:67

Biography
Alice Bradley Sheldon (1915–1987), aka James Tiptree, Jr., aka Raccoona Sheldon, grew up traveling with her parents through regions such as India and central Africa. In the 1940s and 1950s, she worked as an Air Force photointelligence officer and for the CIA, before publishing her first short story in 1968. Writing under a male pseudonym for twenty years, Sheldon had a revolutionary effect on the science fiction of the 1970s and 1980s in her exploration of political—and especially fem- inist—themes. The many books she published during her lifetime include Ten Thousand Light-Years from Home (Eyre Methuen), Star Songs of an Old Primate (Del Rey), Up the Walls of the World (Berkley Books), Tales of the Quintana Roo (Arkham House), and Crown of Stars (Tor). Avowedly a lesbian (among other, more complicated orientations), she nevertheless enjoyed a close marriage of four decades with her husband, Huntington D. Sheldon. In 1987, with both spouses in ill health, Sheldon shot her husband and herself, having predicted her eventual suicide for many years. In 1991, the annual James Tiptree Jr. Award was created in her honor to recognize a work of science fiction or fantasy that expands or explores understandings of gender. Tachyon published an omnibus collection of her stories, Her Smoke Rose Up Forever, in 1994; and Open Road Media released the Kindle edition of Brightness Falls from the Air in 2014. Her honors include two Hugo Awards, three Nebula Awards, and posthumous induction into the Science Fiction Hall of Fame. 

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Submissions

In Print

Vol. 75
Dispatches from Solitude
Fall 2020
Edited by Bradford Morrow

Online

January 27, 2021
Here we are, then, in a typical Mediterranean village, sometime between the end of the last world war and shortly before the next one begins. There’s no obvious reason to think trouble is imminent. In the eyes of an ordinary tourist, everything looks lovely: the colorful, lopsided buildings packed on hillsides above the sea, the slopes lined with abundant vineyards and olive groves, the flowery vines spilling over fences. How could anyone not be happy here?
January 19, 2021
. . . a well-perfumed friend, wise both
in the olfactory and in love, taught me
to spray with economy, to wear scent
as a private pleasure, evident only to
a lover in kissing distance.


 
January 11, 2021
One’s opportunities to be unhappy are

Unlimited.     Or limited, but only by

One’s own imagination, which is powerful

But fragile, is defenseless,     but is limited

Only by things unseen.     As Bark Psychosis did it
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