Super-Short Storytime: “Emergency”

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Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, lovers of literature and fans of fiction!  I am Eduardo Soliz, the composer and narrator of the supremely silly tale that you are about to hear.

If there is one thing that steampunks and furries have in common, it’s that members of both groups love to parade about in their finest fictional fashion.  A pair of fur-bearing blue-bloods try to handle a real crisis in this steam-powered story that I call: “Emergency”


“Brace yourself, my dear!” The gentlewolf yelled to his mistress as the airship began to slowly list to one side.  In response, Muffy reached to grab onto a large pipe that was near to her, but the arctic fox woman immediately released it due to its extreme heat.

“Ah!  Monty, it’s too hot!” Muffy exclaimed, backing away from the pipe.  She shook her singed white paws in the air and blew on them before making her way over to Monty.

Lord Montague adjusted his monocle before looking over the many needles, indicators, numbers and controls at his disposal.  The more he looked at them, the less sense they made.  The room began to shake as the airship’s engines struggled to keep it aloft.

Monty’s voice took on an air of desperation:  “I have tried everything, my dear Muffy, but nothing appears to be working!  Perhaps this one?  Or maybe this one?”  He said, randomly pressing buttons, pulling levers and turning knobs in vain.  A whistle sounded as the intensity of the shaking increased.  Having reached Monty, Muffy pulled him away from the engine controls.

“Oh, Monty, my love!  It is a shame that our young lives must come to an end like this!  Let us share one last kiss as we hurtle to our doom!”  Muffy cried.  She held onto Monty tightly, tears welling in her eyes.

“Yes, my love!  We shall take our forbidden love to the world that lies beyond this one!”  Monty replied.  He and Muffy embraced deeply as warning bells and whistles sounded in protest around them.

A door then suddenly burst open and a short female dog ran into the control room.  She had light brown fur, floppy ears and wore denim overalls that were soiled with oil and grease.  She growled upon catching sight of the amorous aristocrats, who ignored her as they kissed.

“I swear, I can’t eat dinner or take a nap without you blasted bluebloods coming down here and tamperin’ with MY engines!!” the young engineer exclaimed as she walked over to the engine controls.  After looking over a row of gauges, the engineer began to quickly adjust the controls, her paws expertly flipping switches, turning dials and pressing buttons with the grace of a concert pianist.  The whistles and bells went silent and the ship’s shaking and listing gradually ceased.  Satisfied that all was well, the engineer turned to the young couple, whom had broken their embrace, but were still in each other’s arms.

“What in the Sam Hill were y’all thinkin’?” She angrily yelled at them. “This here engine is a delly-cate machine that should only be operated on by experts like me!  The next passenger that I catch sneaking around in here is a-goin’ to get hogtied and thrown into the cargo hold!  NOW GIT!!” she told them as she pointed to an exit.

“You mean to tell me you are not an engineer, Monty?” Muffy asked with a disgusted look on her face as she removed herself from Monty’s arms and started to walk towards the exit.

“Well…uh…no?”   Monty replied half-heartedly.  “Muffy!  Come back!” he cried as he chased his now-former mistress.

The exasperated engineer wiped her forehead and hands with a handkerchief and sighed with relief as the outer door closed behind Monty.  She then said, to no one in particular:

“How about that Mister Fancypants thinking he’s a steam engineer!   What kind of engineer dresses up in their Sunday best to go to work?”

THE END

While clothes might make the man, listeners, they don’t necessarily make him a smart one.  This been Super-Short Storytime, For more tiny tales, visit eduardo soliz dot com, and remember listeners, the past just isn’t what it used to be!

300 Seconds Episode #95 – “Home Less”

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You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 95, “Home Less,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!

Because life (or something like it) happened, I sold my house a few months ago.  Thus, after five years, I’m no longer a homeowner, and there are a few things I already miss about having a house.

To begin with, there is the notion that the place where I live is no longer ‘my’ place anymore.  I’m staying with some friends for the short term, and God bless ’em, because they’ve been pretty awesome.  At the same time, their house isn’t my house, you know?  When I owned my house, I could do whatever I wanted to, like using an old CD to fix a hole in the drywall or putting the TV set in front of the fireplace.  That feeling of ‘ownership’ is pretty nice and the lack thereof will continue to bother me until I own my home again.

I never had a garage growing up; my parent’s house didn’t have one, and so I didn’t see a need for one on the rare occasions when I was offered one as an option when leasing an apartment.  Once I started making use of my house’s garage, though, I loved it.  I remember being at the laundromat folding clothes one day, when it started raining.  I grumped about the rain for a few moments before coming to the delightful realization that I HAD A GARAGE AND I DIDN’T HAVE TO GET WET.  I got spoiled by having a garage; now I have to park my vehicle outside and have it, and me, get rained on.  But at least I have a place to park at, at my friend’s house; I’m really not looking forward to fighting with fellow apartment dwellers for prime parking places in the future.

Another thing I’m going to miss is solitude.  I like being by myself, especially after a day of dealing with silly people at work.  This isn’t really a big deal right now, because my roommates are cool, but once I move into an apartment, having people on the other side of the wall is probably going to drive me nuts…again

But the biggest thing that I miss the most about my old house is having natural gas.  It’s the best thing for cooking, it’s less expensive, and I’m sorry, but you just can’t heat tortillas properly on an electric stove or even one of those fancy pants convection ranges.  And no, I am never ever, EVER going to put a tortilla into the microwave because that’s just WRONG.

This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I warm a tortilla in my toaster oven.  I am Eduardo Soliz, if you’d like to listen to, or read, more of my words and short stories, visit my website at Eduardo Soliz dot com.  Thank you for listening!

Super-Short Storytime: “Freako”

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Welcome to Super-Short Storytime, lovers of literature and fans of fiction!  I am Eduardo Soliz, the composer and narrator of the wonderfully weird words that you are about to hear:

Some people like to enjoy things that the majority of folks just don’t understand.  This selection from my free e-book ‘ten tiny tales’ is an oration about one unfortunately ostracized oddball. I call it: “Freako.”


Alan walked into the office with a spring in his step and a big smile on his face.  It was Friday, it was payday, and he would only be hanging around the office long enough to submit his time report for the week.  He couldn’t wait to start his long weekend.

As he briskly walked through the office, a woman recognized him, “Hey, Al, I thought you weren’t coming in today, did something change?”

Alan stopped to chat, beaming as he answered: “Nope, I’m just here to put in my timesheet and then the fun begins!”

“Oh, that’s right.”  The woman replied with a look of scorn on her face.  “You’re going to that thing to hang out with all those freakos, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call them weirdos, Janet, I mean, lots of people are going to be there, and…” Alan started to explain before Janet raised her hand to interrupt him.

“That’s okay Al, I don’t need to hear about what you all do there, dressed up in those weird outfits and all.”  Janet quickly said.

“hhm…okay.  Sorry, Janet.”  Alan sheepishly said before continuing on his way.  Arriving at his cubicle, he sat down and turned on his computer.  While he waited for it to start, another coworker peeked his head in.

“What’s up, Al!” asked Jon as Alan turned to face him.

“Not much, Jon, I forgot to put in my time, and I want to get paid next week, so here I am.”  Alan answered.  “Hey, do you wanna join me at…”

“No way, man!”  Jon exclaimed, his face grimacing at the thought. “I wouldn’t be caught dead at that sausage-fest!  You have fun, though!” Jon said before ducking out of the cubicle.

Alan entered his time and then shut down the computer.  Dejected, he sighed, and began to walk away from his desk to start his weekend.  The smile on his face and the spring in his step were now gone.

“*sigh* Everybody makes fun of me just because I like something different.”  Alan thought to himself as he left the building and slowly walked to his car. “I wish my coworkers would stop giving me crap for being a football fan!!”

THE END.

It’s never easy being the odd man out, Listeners, so try to be nice.  If you’d like to hear or read more super-short stories scribed and said by yours truly, visit eduardosoliz.com This has been Super-Short Story time. Remember, listeners, we’re all weirdos to somebody!

The More Universes, the Merrier!

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A while back I mulled over the worlds that my short stories take place in and came up with three distinct ‘universes’ or ‘worlds’ that most of them would probably fit into:

  • Earth-F, which is inhabited by talking animals and is where most of my funny stories take place
  • Earth-H-Minus, where humans ‘blew it all up’ and the furries inherited the Earth…not quite so funny.
  • Earth-M, where magic and furries exist, though outside of the Enchanted Forest stories, I haven’t done much there

Of course, there’s also boring old “Earth Prime,” which is our reality, such as it is.  Most of my science-fiction would likely go here, since I try to make those stories at least somewhat plausible.

And then there are my Christmas stories. I thought it would be cool to tie them together, so in “The X-Mas File,” I had a character make a passing reference to what happened in “Christmas Wishes,” my first Christmas story.  In 2017, I decided ‘why the heck not, let’s tie EVERYTHING together,’ so “Evidence,” my 2017 Christmas story, takes place at the fictional mega-corporation ‘Gooplezonsoft.’  Indeed, the events from “As Designed,” the first story to feature Gooplezonsoft, are alluded to there.

Thus, in the world of Gooplezonsoft: Santa Claus is real. He also doesn’t live at the North Pole, either, though you’ll have to read The X-Mas File to find out where he’s hiding. 😉

I’m not completely sure what to call that world, though. “Earth-S,” for Santa, perhaps? Either way, it’s a fun place to be and I already have an idea in mind for next year’s Christmas story, after I post a more upbeat one to make up for “Confession,” tomorrow.

Click here to read my short stories!

Click here to read my Christmas stories!


300 Seconds Episode 93: “So This is Christmas”

Click here to listen to this episode on Podomatic.com!

You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 93, “So This is Christmas,” so let the 300 Seconds begin!

I’ve been in a funk this Christmas season; it just hasn’t been the same as in years past.  I sold my house a few months ago and in the meantime, I have been rooming in with some friends.  It’s been pleasant for the most part, but not having a place of my own means that I’ve missed out on a few Christmas things. Things like putting up and decorating my little Christmas tree after Thanksgiving, stringing up lights on my house.  Even the little USB Christmas tree that I usually keep at my work desk sits somewhere in my storage unit, unused.  Granted, I don’t even HAVE a desk these days, but that’s a podcast for another time.

What bums me out the most, though, is that for the first time in years, I won’t be making Christmas cookies for my friends.  My work schedule right now includes weekends and I can’t squeeze in a full day of baking and another full day of making deliveries into my schedule.  Complicating matters is that it’s a temp job, so I don’t have any paid time off.  I’ve also been told that the job is ending soon, but I haven’t been given a definite end date, so every new week at work might be my last.  Yeah, thanks, guys.

Otherwise, Christmas has gone on as usual:  Gifts have been bought, I have another group of favorite Christmas songs to add to my website, and I have already written a Christmas story.  Granted, the story wasn’t quite as happy as those in years past, but that seems appropriate.  Funny thing: I’ve actually written a second, more optimistic story to make up for the dreariness of the first one.  It’ll be up soon.

My mood will likely improve when I go visit my family for Christmas next week.  Cookies will be baked and gifts will be delivered, and that’s always fun.  Spending a few days with friends and family always lifts my spirits, but until then, I’ll muddle along as best I can. 

This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after I wrap my Christmas gifts.  I am Eduardo Soliz.  For more podcasts, short stories, and my blog, visit Eduardo Soliz dot com.  Thank you for listening and a very Merry Christmas to you!

Super Short Storytime: “Where Credit is Due”

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Art by Chris Holm

As the writer in this story is about to learn, just because someone else has a different job than you do doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s easier. Featured in Fuzzy Words, this furry fracas is titled “Where Credit Is Due.”


The weasel’s tail swished back and forth rapidly as he paced back and forth in his living room with a cell phone held up to one ear.  “The script is done, Mark, but I can’t seem to get the songs down, and well, you can’t have a musical without music, right?”  He joked in a feeble attempt to appease the angry producer he was speaking with.

Mark was not pleased at William’s attempt at humor, and he let the nervous weasel know: “This is not the time for jokes, Will!  I am going to be out several thousand dollars for your advance, not to mention a lot more if you don’t give me a script to put on!  It’s been nine months!  What’s going on in that head of yours?  Are you homesick?  Girl trouble?  Guy trouble?

William hesitated before answering.  “Do you really want to know, Mark?”

Mark regained some of his composure and eagerly replied, “Well.  Yeah, Will.  This delay isn’t doing either one of us any good, so…so let’s talk it through and figure this thing out for both our sakes.  What’s eating you, man?”

William let out a heavy sigh before answering: “Well, it’s that, uh, I haven’t seen my Muse lately, and, well, I’m pretty useless without her.”

This time, a flabbergasted Mark hesitated briefly before speaking.  “Whoa.  I did not just hear that.  Did you say your Muse?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

“Yeah.  My Muse…”

“WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN SMOKING, WILL?  That has to be THE nuttiest thing I’ve heard in all my years working on Barkway!  Have you lost your mind?  You know what?  Don’t answer that, ‘cause I think I already know.  I need a finished script by the end of next week, or you are finished working in this town, do you understand me?  FINISHED.  Nobody will touch you with a twenty-foot leash after I’m done.  Get some help and get it done, Will!”

Even the beep that William heard as Mark ended the call sounded angry.  William collapsed onto his living room sofa, closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.  My career is over, William thought as he dropped his cell phone onto the carpeted floor and contemplated the dreary future ahead of him.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes to find her there.  His Muse.  She was a short, sprightly thing: a mink almost completely covered in brown fur except for her muzzle, which was white.  She stood over him and looked down at William with a big goofy grin on her face.  William stared back for a few moments before the Muse finally broke the silence.

“Hi-eee!” she cheerfully said as she waved a hand in front of William’s face.  In response, he groaned and rubbed his eyes before sitting up on the sofa.  This was not the reaction that the Muse was expecting, and she began to pout: “Hey, I thought that you’d be happy to see me, Willie!”

“It’s William, and just where have you been?” an agitated William answered.  “I need to finish this play because I’ve got a producer breathing down my neck, and if I don’t get it done, he’s going to want his advance back.  You know, the one I already used to pay my rent.”

The shocked Muse took a step back.  She opened her mouth to speak, but William cut her off:

“What is it with you, anyway?  You’re never there when I need you.  You pop up at the worst possible times, or at the last minute, like now.  You can’t show up whenever I’m sitting at my laptop, you know, WHEN I’M TRYING TO WRITE.  No, that makes too much sense.  Instead, you pop up whenever you feel like it, like when I’m in the shower, or when I can’t sleep at two in the morning, or when I’m out on a date.  I then have to drop whatever it is I’m doing so I can jot something down because I have NO DOGGONE IDEA when you’re going to decide to grace me with your presence again!”

For a moment the Muse looked as if she were about to burst into tears.  Instead, she regained her composure, took a deep breath, stepped towards William, and unleashed a tirade of her own:

“Oh, so you think it’s so easy to do MY job?  You think you’re the ONLY so-called ‘creative’ person that needs a little extra help every now and then?  Well, let me tell you, Buddy, you AREN’T.  Every day, I have to help loads of people just like you finish their books or their poems or their scripts or their songs or their paintings or their sculptures.  Every. Single. Day.  It never ends: ‘I’m on a deadline!’ ‘My assignment is due next week!’ “My mom’s birthday is tomorrow!’  ‘Help me!’

So I show up, inspire somebody, and what I get for my trouble?  Nothing!  Nada, zero, zip, zilch.  When people say: ‘Oh, what a wonderful work of art,’ does the artist ever mention me?  No.  Do you ever hear somebody say, ‘Thank you, Muse,’ in an acceptance speech?  NO!  I-I don’t even get residuals!

A bewildered William interrupted her.  “But you’re a Muse…what would you even do with money?” He asked.

“SHUT UP!” she snapped back.  “It’s the principle!” she said, turning away from William.

William started to approach the Muse, but since her long fluffy tail was in the way, he walked around to face her.

“So you’re just looking for some recognition, huh?” William asked.

“Just a little would be nice.” The Muse said coyly.

William thought for a moment, and then his face lit up. He enthusiastically asked the Muse, “What if, I were to write a play with you in it?”

The Muse pointed a finger at herself before speaking. “With little old me?” she said with feigned modesty.

“Sure.  It will be…” William took a step back, assumed a dramatic pose and spoke as if he were narrating a movie trailer:  “The inspirational tale of a guy who’s down on his luck.  He can’t get a break, and just when he’s hit rock bottom and things can’t get any worse…” he stopped to point at the Muse with both hands, “His Muse appears out of the blue and saves his tail!”

“Yay!” chirped the Muse in a delighted tone, clapping her hands as she excitedly hopped up and down on both feet.  “I’d like that, Willie. I really would.  Have you thought of a name for it yet?”

William stifled a laugh before answering: “What else could I call it?  Un-a-mused!

With a smile and a wink, the Muse replied, “Yeah, I think I’ll let you take the credit for that one, Willie!”

THE END.


Inspiration is where you find it, Dear Listeners, that is, assuming it doesn’t find you first. For more super-short, super-silly stories, visit Eduardo Soliz dot com.  This has been Super-Short Storytime, and remember, listeners; always cite your sources!

300 Seconds Episode 90: “A few words before Furry Invasion 2018”

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I was recently a guest on Tommy Kovacs Splat from the Past podcast. Join us as we discuss our convention experiences in California and Texas.  That’s Splat from the Past, episode number 215, on YouTube. And now, on with the show…

You are listening to ‘300 Seconds with Eduardo Soliz,’ and this is episode number 90:  A few words before Furry Invasion: The Road to Furdition, so let the 300 Seconds begin!

Furry Invasion will be happening at the El Tropicano Riverwalk hotel in San Antonio this weekend, October 5-7 with badge pickup happening tomorrow night.  Because life has been getting in the way of my fun lately, I will only be at Furry Invasion Saturday and Sunday afternoon.  I’ll be presenting my Furry 101 panel on Saturday afternoon at 5PM in the Bolivar C room.  If you or someone you know would like to know more about the fandom, then come on down.

This is the second year for Furry Invasion; last year’s show was a solid first effort that had a few hiccups here and there, including a few that affected me personally, so just a heads up, this is going to get just a little bitey.

The biggest issues that I had last year were the slow registration line and the panel schedule being disorganized.  The problem with registration last year was that attendees were required to print their registration sheets at the convention which slowed down the process considerably.  At other conventions, attendees are allowed to print out their preregistrations beforehand, allowing them to be processed much more quickly.  I’m happy to report that I was allowed to print out my registration paperwork after paying, so that should make things more efficient.  While that problem appears to have been solved, a new one has been introduced by the convention’s choice to put registration in the hotel’s ballroom, which is in the back of the hotel and on the third floor.  This is going to make signage VERY important and staff should also be aware of how to get to registration so they can direct people there.

My second beef last year was with the panel scheduling; the schedule that was printed in the conbook ended up being different than the actual schedule, due to some changes being made after the original schedule was made.  This led to some confusion among attendees and presenters, including myself.  Fortunately, the Powers That Be decided to make the schedule digital this year, which means that last minute-changes can be made without fear of ending up with an outdated print schedule, so good on them.  What I’m hoping happens is that they print out each panel room’s schedule and post it outside so folks can see what is happening.

While Furry Invasion has made efforts to fix their registration and panel scheduling issues from last year, one thing that was sadly not addressed, was the weather.  Now, you may be asking yourself: What can the convention do about the weather?  Well, they can try to push the con ahead a week or two in the hopes that the weather cools down.  Cooler weather makes it easier for fursuiters to go outside and have fun, puts less strain on the venue’s air conditioning and is just nicer.  Should there be a third go-round, Furry Invasion really needs to look at pushing their date forward a week or two.

I openly admit that yes, I am harping on the convention a bit, but that’s mainly because the first two issues I mentioned were really touchy issues for me personally.  As I mentioned at the top, the first Furry Invasion went well; if the registration and panel problems weren’t there it likely would have been a great show instead of a good one.  Year two should be better since steps have been taken to address most of the issues from last year and the staff will have a year of experience under their belt to build on.

This has been 300 Seconds, the next episode will be posted after the convention.  I am Eduardo Soliz, if you’d like to hear more 300 seconds subscribe to this podcast or check out my website at Eduardo Soliz dot com for more podcasts and short stories.  Thank you for listening!