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Excerpt
I don't know why she picked me to get the umbrella factory. I used to humour her, at least a bit, when I was a kid. Whatever the wikis said, I knew she hadn't really crossed the Alps at the age of twelve with Hannibal, some elephants and the Face. I'd worked that out long before I'd worked out there were no such things as Father Christmas, the Easter Bunny or the Woman in the Moon.
Bio
Wendy Bradley was the TV critic for Interzone back in the twentieth century. This millennium she attended Clarion West in 2003 and was, for a brief and glorious moment, the editor and publisher of Farthing magazine until the business economics of there being more writers than readers caught up with her. Her novel (about two gay cowboys, a witch and a shaman) has been sitting on Patrick Nielsen Hayden's desk since 2004, hint hint. Wendy now lives in Sheffield, and is doing the Write-a-thon to try to kickstart her writing habit. She will endeavour to complete a story each week, and will email the alpha version for criticism/ridicule/kicks to everyone who pledges at least one pound sterling per story.
