I sold a story yesterday, but this sale is a bit more special to me than many of my others. It has nothing to do with the story per se—I’m proud of all my stories—it has to do with the market. The market isn’t one of the “big ones,” at least not as science fiction magazines go, but it is a market I never thought I would crack, at least not in the way I have always thought of this market.

That market is Nature, a world-renowned scientific journal, sort of the Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy or Asimov’s but for scientists. As a professional biologist, I am very familiar with Nature because in my field, to have an article in Nature is a big, big (did I say big?) deal, and something I am certain will never happen to me.

Yet, Nature is also a pro market for science fiction, and they publish a “hard” science fiction story in every issue. As with any pro market, they are tough to crack, and to be honest I’ve never submitted anything to them because I never thought I had anything “hard” enough for them. I’ll also admit, their reputation in my field of science left me a bit intimidated. Last fall, however, I decided, almost on a whim, to send them a cute story I had just finished about the multiverse, wave functions, and probability densities called “Mementoes of My Lives (Un)Lived.” Many months went by without a peep, but the editor finally contacted me yesterday to accept my cute little story for publication. It feels a bit surreal to be able to say, “I’m going to be published in Nature.”

In Nature.

Did I mention that already? I’m grinning so wide, it almost hurts because . . .

I’m going to be published in Nature, and I can’t wait to tell my colleagues.