Seanan McGuire (seanan_mcguire) wrote,
Seanan McGuire
seanan_mcguire
  • Mood: sad
  • Music: Hypnogaja, "Here Comes the Rain Again."

But my mama's gone, like the prarie dawn, and the Lord of the Buffalo.

It's time for some free fiction, and for the last story of the Johnny and Fran era. The year is 1945. Frances Healy, born Frances Brown, is gone, and the time has come, however little we might want it, to say goodbye to a friend.

With "Star of New Mexico," we close the book on Johnny and Fran, and look to the future. It's the end of an era. It's the beginning of something new.

You can download the new story now from the InCryptid short fiction page.

This also serves as your discussion post.

As an author's note, if you want the perfect song to accompany this story, download "Chasing Twisters" (the song, not the EP) by Delta Rae. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

Goodbye, Fran. I'll miss you.
Tags: giving stuff away, incryptid, short fiction
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  • 62 comments

kellyjelly33

June 6 2015, 00:18:41 UTC 2 years ago

I wasn't ready.

Like other folks have already said, I'm surprised that what really upset me was the mouse. That was when I lost it. I also really loved that I got to see the mice from their point of view, rather than just having them get in the way, or having them as amusing diversions. Their pain makes them more real now.

I love that you're sharing the history of this family. It makes the family and backstory more real and gives me emotional investment in them, too, not just the current generation of books. Thank you so much for writing and sharing.

seanan_mcguire

June 6 2015, 15:54:16 UTC 2 years ago

I've been saying for ages that the mice are heartbreak in motion. They just don't get many chances to show it.

jenfullmoon

June 8 2015, 00:25:57 UTC 2 years ago

What kills me is that Fran probably wasn't (from her POV) all that close to the priest who wanted to die for love of her.

wendyzski

June 9 2015, 19:48:11 UTC 2 years ago

Exactly - it's like loving someone who barely knows you're alive, and still accepting that.

First the "but we need to witness, for how else may they live on in our memory" and then the "I cannot imagine a life without my priestess so I will cease trying" - such pure devotion breaks itself against us