About Allison Pang
Hello Kitty Connoisseur.
I write the Abby Sinclair UF series, published by Pocket Books, the IronHeart Chronicles and the ongoing Fox & Willow webcomic at Sad Sausage Dogs. Represented by Jess Regel of Foundry Literary + Media.
Coming October 8!
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I’m off to the shore tomorrow and for most of next week, so my blogging will be spotty, at best. (Although I’m playing around with the idea of using blogger’s timed posts to throw up some beach-themed man-candy, but we’ll see what kind of time I have.) In the meantime, I thought I’d put up this bit of a short story I wrote last year. It’s rough in places, for sure, but I’m rather fond of it and I’m feeling a little down tonight. As an aside, if you’re not familiar with the original telling of The Little Mermaid, I suggest you take a quick refresher, since this is essentially a slightly alternate ending. The Mermaid’s Rose The princess was singing again. Her voice hovered, fragile and shimmering, a hummingbird lifted away by the breeze creeping through the portholes. The words of the song prickled my skin, sweet and brimming… Read more
You know, this is pretty cool. The marine biologist in me is shuddering a bit since it seems a tad invasive, but probably not much more than a regular diver. The artist/little girl is totally in love with the concept. And maybe just a wee bit jealous. Mermaids in Motion Definitely check out the gallery – there’s some really neat pictures in there. And hey – ABC is going to have a special on them tonight, too, so I’ll throw out a plug for them as well. 🙂 Of course, the cynic in me is thinking BP ought to hire her – she’s probably got about as much a chance of plugging up that oil spill as they do.… Read more
I don’t know what kind of roses these are. They grow outside the window of one of the bedrooms at the beach house. For the most part, we let the bush grow wild, only cutting it back when it started getting *really* obnoxious. Otherwise, we just left it alone. Sometimes my mom would take cuttings and put them in a jar in the kitchen, and once a friend and I attempted to make some kind of rose perfume with the petals. (Being about ten and having no idea how to do it, we only ended up with vaguely rose- scented water, but I suppose that was good enough for us.) When I was twelve, I figured out the roses floated. Ever the fanciful child, I plucked them, one at a time, and walked down to the bay and dropped them into the sea. They would get picked up by the… Read more