Action Force Mailbag

It’s been a while since we’ve opened the official A. Lee Martinez Action Force mailbag.  Before we dive in, I just want to remind all the members of the Action Force that if you have a question, comment, mindless fawning, whatever that you’d like to share, you can reach me on Twitter (@ALeeMartinez), Facebook (A.Lee.Martinez.37), or via e-mail (  I’m always happy and eager to hear from fans because novelology can be a lonely profession.  Yes, I sit here in my solid gold mansion with my solid gold robot butler, debating on what snacks to bring to the next Illuminati meeting, but there are times when I feel as if I’m sitting here in an vacuum.  So feel free to write sometimes.  Who knows?  If I like your letter I might even get your name on the protected scrolls for when the planets align and the mole people rise from . . . I’ve said too much.  Just write me.  You’ll be glad you did.

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Unit 12 (short fiction)

Unit 12 hunted through the ruins of the city. 12 was not a hunting unit, but it was an adapting machine. Once, there had been thousands of them, but scanning the empty radio waves, 12 knew they were all gone. There were likely others out there, but it had been decades since 12 had seen another.

The war had been only slightly less devastating to the humans. They survived, clinging to existence as only organic life might. Given enough time, they would return. In the meantime, 12 hunted.

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Surface Deep (writing)

Perhaps it’s unfair to say this, but most people live their lives entirely on the surface.  One of the places that is most self-evident to me (as a novelologist) is in fiction. Specifically, the expectations of genre.  Those expectations tend to make sense in a broader context. If I’m enjoying an action-adventure story, I expect action and / or adventure. If I partake in a horror story, I should be horrified in some way. And so on. But the catch is that even within genres, there are more subtle strokes to be explored.

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The Changing Pool (short fiction)

The goblin measured Robert. “Accidental or intentional?”

“Beg your pardon?” asked Robert.

“Did you stumble across this place? Or did you come here on purpose?”

Robert said, “On purpose. People find this place by accident?”

“Fifty fifty,” replied the goblin. “Some say it’s fate. I say it’s dumb luck. No way to know for sure.”

The goblin entered the cave, and Robert followed. He lost sight of his guide in the dark, having to follow the goblin’s voice.

“If you’re here on purpose, then you know what you’re getting into.”


Posted in Short Fiction | 1 Comment
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