Snowstorm & Overgrowth

By Claudie Arseneault

A pair of singers redefine their queerplatonic partnership through a unique concert. Alexis Le Trotteur, local MagSkater star, must represent his backwater planet in the Great Intergalactic MagSkate Championship. A young mother visits her friend's grave in a blooming cemetery for the first time in years. Resistance organizes against a food corporate giant in near-future Québec City.

 

Through eight solarpunk and fantasy short stories, Claudie Arseneault revisits local myths and invented legends, explores aromanticism and asexuality, and prods at the soft edges of grief.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claudie Arseneault
• Release date: Oct 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9781775312994

Book preview

Snowstorm & Overgrowth

Solarpunk and queer short stories

Claudie Arseneault

Claudie Arseneault

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

Snowstorm & Overgrowth

Copyright © 2020 Claudie Arseneault

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1-7753129-9-4

Cover by Cedar McCloud

Interior Design and Layout by Claudie Arseneault

claudiearseneault.com

Contents

Foreword

Content Warnings

1. Lemon & Salt

2. Le Trotteur

3. The Wyvern Brood

4. Seida the Fairy-Troll

5. The Daisy Haunt

6. Le carré rouge

7. Human Blooms

8. One Last Sweet

Thank You For Reading!

About the Author

Foreword

I have always considered myself a novel writer, but for the longest time, short stories were a way for me to explore themes and ideas I could not fit within bigger piece of works. Snowstorm & Overgrowth is a collection of the works I have written and published over the last few years, and it was striking to me to notice how most of them could be tied within three great spheres: solarpunk, aromanticism and asexuality, and Québec’s history and culture.

Each of the pieces within has its own small history, like a little landmark of my path as a writer. The Wyvern Brood, for example, was the story to inspire Wings of Renewal, the solarpunk dragon anthology I edited with Brenda J. Pierson. Lemon & Salt was the first very spelled out queerplatonic relationship I wrote. Le Trotteur taught me I actually enjoy retellings when I work them out of my own folklore. It, along with Human Blooms, are some of the rare stories in which I touch upon very personal struggles asexuality brought me.

Perhaps the most interesting to me, however, is Le carré rouge. Most of the political events depicted in it (those with dates before 2017, anyway) are real parts of our history. I wanted to write a solarpunk story that was tangled into Québec’s unique history and political landscape, to tie both pivotal events in it (October Crises in 1970) and more personal ones, such as the students strike in 2012, which catalyzed so much of my own political awakening. It’s a deeply personal piece, one I might write differently now, in 2022, but it brought me a great deal of confidence when it came to integrating Québec in the fiction I write.

Snowstorm & Overgrowth is in many ways collected pieces of myself, little reflections of my life scattered throughout years of writing. I’m rather proud to have them gathered together, and I hope you will enjoy them.

Content Warnings

Below are the appropriate content warnings for each story within the collection.

Lemon & Salt: Arophobia (worldbuilding)

Le Trotteur: Acephobia, sexual pressure, fall from heights, injury

The Wyvern Brood: Blood and injury

Seida the Fairy-Troll: Blood and injury, burns/fire

The Daisy Haunt: Breaking and entering, violation of personal boundaries, light sexual content

Le carré rouge: Guns, police brutality, underground spaces

Human Blooms: friend death, discussions around sex repulsion and desire to have children

One Last Sweet: animal death

Lemon & Salt

First published by Spectrum Lit, May 2017

Lemon forced confidence into their stride as they advanced onto the stage. Everything about their appearance matched the tour’s posters: long electric-yellow hair shaved in an undercut, matching neon boots, and stylish black vest with yellow lines zipping through. Not a hint of worry tainted their grin, and they gestured at the crowd as if nothing in the world was wrong.

Nevermind that this was the first time they had jumped onto the stage alone.

No one cheered at their arrival. The crowd hushed, its deepest fears confirmed. Lemon & Salt never went one without the other, nor should they. To the public’s mind, they were a single entity comprised of two harmonious halves. Lemon’s soprano voice served as counterpoint to Salt’s deeper bass, and together they created music that conquered the galaxy. Everyone loved them, and as Lemon came forward on their own, collective heartbreak spread through the gathered fans.

Everyone had seen the duo’s public fight on the stream the night before.

Lemon tossed their yellow mane, lifted their mic, and smiled, seemingly oblivious. Only their musicians were close enough to notice the stiffness behind it and the knowing glint in their eyes.

Ladies. Gentlemen. My lovely nonbinary fans. Their calm voice hushed the worried whispers of the crowd. Life is a strange and wonderful thing, filled with surprises. Some good… and others, not so much. Some days, it’s harder to trust in your future—to believe in yourself. They inhaled deeply, and the crowd breathed with them, as if suddenly aware they were allowed to. Tonight’s concert is unique. It’s not what many of you paid for, but I hope you’ll trust me and see it to the end.

Hushed whispers ran through the crowd, a mix of doubts and anxious anticipation. Unique didn’t mean good, they reasoned, and how could Lemon pretend to achieve greatness alone, without Salt’s voice to support them?

The first chords played behind Lemon and they lifted their voice. No shake betrayed the hesitancy and doubts whirling inside. They had stayed up through the night, tinkering songs meant for two, fitting them to their voice alone. Salt’s accusations rang through their head with the first notes, as they had throughout the night.

Salt & Lemon is an act! A show we put on for the marketing department—for sales and posters and fans. But who is Salt? Who’s Lemon? I need to be something without you. To stand and live and succeed on my own. So should you.

Working alone had drained them. Every note they scribbled shot new doubts through their mind. Would this add to the song? Complement their voice? Could an instrument ever replace Salt? Everything had felt wrong, diminished, dampened. They’d wished they could ask her advice, or even joke about their insecurities with her. But that had been her point, hadn’t it? Lemon wanted to prove her wrong—to define their space in Lemon & Salt, and show they hadn’t lost sight of themselves in favour of the pair.

This night alone, however… it had been an ordeal. Quitting Salt cold turkey had messed with Lemon’s confidence, and even now, as their voice rang crystalline clear over an entranced crowd, doubts gnawed at their mind. Would their songs be good enough? The fans held their breath, but were they captivated or disappointed? Lemon stomped down the questions, striding to the very front of the stage as the music rose to a crescendo and their voice with it. They threw every lingering anxiety into a last airy and pure note, then ended the song abruptly.

Silence fell upon the concert field. Lemon forced a slow breath in and ran a hand through their neon hair. "I call the first half of this concert Making Lemonade—No Salt Added. I hope it doesn’t leave you sour."

The words earned them a mix of groans and laughter. Lemon threw their fist up, and the first notes of the next song started. They flung themselves into the music, giving every ounce of energy, skill, and talent to it. Lemon had always been a technical singer, rigorous in their training and precise in their songwriting. By contrast, Salt winged it, her instinct and sheer magical genius often adding the perfect touch to their pair. Lemon teased her about jumping into performances without preparation; she nagged them about endless rituals and practice sessions. They complemented each other, but tonight Lemon sang alone—and their technical strength shone through every shift in the music, every fast-paced climax, every new height of their voice.

By the time the last piece finished, Lemon had taken full control of the stage. The rhythm flowed through them, doubts forgotten. They were a stellar artist, even on their own, and the crowd cheered them. Lemon thanked them, light-headed, grinning, and left the stage.

The silence returned, broken only by musicians adjusting their instruments. Minutes trickled by, and the pumped crowd slowly reverted to anxious waiting. What had Lemon planned next? Was this the end? They had asked for everyone’s trust, however, and they hadn’t disappointed so far. Yet as more time passed, the mood turned to impatience.

Then the stage exploded with action. Sparks flew from the ground as the drum launched into a quick sequence. Lights flashed, heavy notes resonated across the field, and a small woman dropped onto the stage.

Salt needed no introduction. Heavy boots thumped as she landed, one hand on the ground, the other around her mic. She launched into a vindictive song, all passion and bitterness, immediately filling the stage with her commanding presence. Bleached white hair contrasted with her dark skin while her silver nails, lips, and clothes reflected the light as she thundered through the song.

She didn’t chatter through her half of the concert, allowing her energy and music to carry her message: she sang with passion, forceful and beautiful, capturing the audience’s heart and never letting go. Her music vibrated through the soul in a way no other could, even without sheer technical skill. Her half of the concert flew by, leaving everyone breathless and smitten, Lemon first among them. She grinned at the crowd, and without a word of thanks, she strode out.

The crowd cheered as she vanished into the wings. Lemon met her gaze and smiled. She returned it, and they let the fans’ loud praise wash over them both for a precious second. They had done it—two separate shows, one after the other.

"Making Lemonade, really?"

Salt snickered. Lemon grinned. They both burst into laughter. I told you this would work.

Lemon hadn’t wanted to live and succeed on their own. But Salt’s accusations of being an act—an empty marketing shell—had struck deep.

We’re not an act. We’re a duo, Lemon had said the night before. "We’re better together because we’re unique."

The fans don’t believe it. They think we’re nothing without each other.

Lemon had winked. "I am nothing without you, Salt. Just not