#1990s horse notebook

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Lisa Frank Horse Big Little Notebook

1990s

Found on Ebay, user ebaelisa

I loved these!! I had this one and the Springer Spaniel one and a few others.

[schlock-luster-video]

Today in comedy / superhero movie history: on September 26, 2000 Mystery Men debuted on VHS in Hungary.

Here's some Janeane Garofalo fan art!

[specialagentsergio]

all we can do is keep breathing || chapter two

summary: Spencer’s doing better, but recovery isn’t linear, and some scars run deeper than either of you knew.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: angst (eventual happy ending)

content warnings: swearing, drug abuse & addiction, substance use disorder, ptsd, descriptions of panic attacks/ptsd episodes, recollection of past bullying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, yelling/fighting, negative feelings towards other team members, body image issues

a/n: i was so taken aback by the response to chapter one--i didn’t think anyone would even read it tbh. thank you all and thanks for being patient with my lack of an upload schedule. i'm so sorry the word count is massive again. you get tummy appreciation, though, because 1) we all love spencer’s tummy, and 2) i personally gained weight when i was in residential treatment and it can be a bit of a mindfuck lol.

a/n 2: repeated disclaimer that i'm not a doctor, psychologist, psychiatrist, etc., just a direct care staff, past rtc patient and trauma recovery enthusiast. the horse therapy is pretty much entirely based on my own personal experience from nearly a decade ago, so don’t expect it to be an accurate portrayal of equine-assisted psychotherapy.

word count: 7.3k

song: you will be found from dear evan hansen

fic masterlist || masterlist

He’s been looking forward to the start of equine therapy since he got a spot in the program. But instead of being excited the morning of, Spencer ends up crying for an hour straight.

The day started off fine. It wasn’t hard to get up with the horses to look forward to, and he was able to get an extra plate at breakfast, so he could keep the pancake syrup from touching the eggs and sausage. Art therapy was a few hours later. He’d started to actually enjoy the pottery project—the recreational therapist had brought him a box of disposable gloves to use so the feeling of drying clay on his hands was no longer a problem.

Everyone’s projects were coming out of the kiln today and the next step was painting them. He’d been planning out the design and colors he wanted to use since the project started and was excited to finally start applying it.

Then he dropped his item, it broke into pieces, and he burst into tears.

He’d fled the room on instinct alone and curled up in a corner of the hallway, pressing his knees to his forehead. He was upset about the pottery, and upset that he was so affected by it breaking. He felt stupid and silly for crying over it, which only made him cry harder.

He heard distant laughter and he clapped his hands over his ears. He was being laughed at again for being a crybaby. He didn’t want to be a crybaby. He wanted to stop crying, he just couldn’t. The goalpost was cold against the bare skin of his back, and his wrists were starting to burn from the ties.

I want to go home. Just let me go home, please, I’ll do anything. Let me go, let me go--

“Spencer, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Can you repeat after me? I’m safe here.”

Safe here. Safe here.

Art therapy was over by the time he came out of it.

He has lunch at his therapist’s office instead of with the group. Lara asks what his flashback had been to.

He picks at his food. “It happened a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. Can you tell me how it felt instead?”

Spencer isn’t really hungry, but bites into his sandwich to stall for time. She doesn’t rush him. Eventually, he asks, “Do you know what alexithymia means?”

“No words for feelings,” she replies.

He nods. “That’s all.”

Lara opens one of her desk drawers and pulls out a composition notebook, which she then hands to him.

“What’s this for?”

“I want you to start trying to notice your feelings and sensations throughout the day. Make some kind of note, even if you don’t exactly have the words to describe it.”

He sighs. “Why?”

“Just noticing what you feel can help you develop emotional regulation,” she explains. She’s always been honest with him about the why of what she wants him to try and do. “It’s going to help you stop ignoring what’s going on inside you.”

I don’t want to do that.

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he blurts. “That either. I—god.” He quickly takes another bite of food before he can say more.

“It’s fine. I didn’t expect you to like it,” Lara says with a small smile. “I’m sure the thought of confronting what you’ve been suppressing and avoiding is scary. But getting better requires you to do a lot of scary things.”

Spencer wants to protest. Being strapped to a chair in a shed and dosed against your will is scary. Your mother being diagnosed with Alzheimer's is scary. Being sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit is scary. Feeling things? That’s not scary.

Isn’t it?

He tries not to think on it too much.

Despite the unpleasant thoughts running through his mind, Spencer finds himself nodding off on the van ride to the horse ranch. His eyes unfocus, his blink rate slows… and then he jerks back awake at the sensation of his head falling forward.

A frustrated noise escapes the back of his throat. He’s sick of feeling tired all the time. He’s getting enough sleep in theory, but still finds himself drowsy at least once a day. It’s to the point that he’s regularly wearing his glasses instead of his contacts to keep his eyes from feeling quite so dry. He pushes them back up now as he tries to tune back in to his surroundings.

“… don’t get how seeing some horse is supposed to make me feel better.” That’s Aiden’s voice. He’s Spencer’s new roommate. He wasn’t happy when he found out he was getting a new one, having much preferred having the room to himself, but it’s been okay so far, mostly because they keep out of each other’s way. Aiden seems uninterested in making friends, and that suits Spencer just fine. Lara’s been encouraging him to talk to fellow patients instead of just the direct care staff, but he’s resisted it. The last time he befriended someone, they ended up--

Spencer’s fine with the two of them keeping to themselves.

Melanie, one of the staff accompanying them, is leaned over the back of the middle seat as she talks to Aiden. “Well, I couldn’t tell you why exactly, but I’ve seen this program help a lot of people in my time here,” she says. “Spencer?”

“What?”

“You’ve been reading a lot about horses, right?” At his nod, she continues, “What have you found out?”

“Equine-assisted psychotherapy lacks the rigorous scientific evidence to demonstrate if it provides benefits in mental health treatment. Horses have been used to aid in psychiatric treatment since the 1990’s, though,” he says. He intends to stop there, but can’t stop himself from continuing. “It doesn’t necessarily involve riding, but may include grooming, feeding, and ground exercises. The goal is to help the client in social, emotional, cognitive, and or behavioral ways.”

He can feel Aiden’s eyes on him and takes a breath before meeting them. He knows all too well that his infodumps aren’t always well received. He doesn’t want to be friends, but would prefer for his roommate to not view him with disdain or annoyance. But Aiden looks interested, and says as much--”that’s interesting.” He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t, and there’s silence between them for the remainder of the drive. It’s not uncomfortable, though.

When the van pulls into a parking spot and everyone starts to get out, Spencer begins to feel nervous. He’s read everything he could get his hands on, but as a relatively new therapy, there’s no standard program; it varies by facility, so he doesn’t know exactly what to expect. He’s been looking forward to this, but what if it turns out to be a bad fit for him? What if the people here don’t like him? What if the horses don’t like him?

He hangs at the back of their group of ten—six patients and two staff—as they’re led to a shaded area. They’re introduced to the program director and assistants, and are given an overview of what they’ll be doing over the next six weeks. They won’t be riding the horses, just doing groundwork (he’s not sure if he feels relieved or disappointed). Then he learns that intention of this specific program isn’t just for the horses to help the clients—the clients are to help the horses as well. The animals all have the gentle temperaments suited for therapy, but also have their own struggles. A lot of them were adopted out of poor situations.

They’re led to a circular corral next and spaced equidistantly around the edge. Spencer’s heart rate picks up as the horses are brought in—the animals will be picking their therapy partner, the director says. As they’re let off their leads a jolt of anxiety runs through his body, making him twitch slightly. This feels uncomfortably familiar to school P.E. when teams were picked. No one wanted him then. What’s gong to happen if none of the horses want him, either? He looks down at his shoes.

But just a few moments later, he hears his name, and looks up to see one of the horses approaching him. “Looks like you and Chance are our first pair,” the director is saying.

First?

Chance is almost entirely black, save for a spot of white between his eyes and above his nose. His size is a little intimidating, but his demeanor is gentle. One of the assistants comes up to Spencer and instructs him to hold out his hand so the horse can sniff it.

His hand trembles slightly as he lifts it. Warm breath hits his fingers as Chance sniffs at it. Then the horse presses his nose completely against his hand. The moistness would usually bother Spencer, but for some reason it doesn’t. Instead, a smile slowly spreads across his face. The assistant tells him he can pet Chance now. He runs his hand up and down the horse’s snout, and despite the slight coarseness of the hair, finds it soothing.

The horse shuffles closer when Spencer is given his lead to hold. A startled laugh escapes him when Chance presses his nose into his neck. He pats his head a few times, then takes a tiny step back. He’s thrilled that at least one of the horses likes him, but feels a little crowded by the large animal. To his surprise, Chance seems to understand, and takes a step back of his own.

He absently pats his horse as he watches the rest of the group pair up. He still can’t believe he was picked first.

The rest of their time with the horses is very simple. They’re taught how to lead them, and after practicing in the corral, they take the horses back to their paddocks. Spencer’s disappointed to say goodbye already, but understands the need to not overwhelm the horses or even themselves. “I’ll see you next week,” he finds himself whispering to Chance.

There’s ten minutes left in the session, and it’s spent with the director telling them more about each horses’ specific background. Chance was poorly treated by his previous owner, mostly kept locked up in a small barn and not properly cared for. He has many talents and abilities, the director says. He needs to learn that he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he was, and be told that he is brave.

Spencer rests his chin in his hand and stares out the window on the drive back to the treatment center. He knows from his reading that horses are emotionally intelligent creatures, but he’s still… well, amazed by how the horses all picked who was most similar to them out of the group instinctively.

He feels more understood by an animal he’s interacted with for twenty minutes than he has by a person for months.

Before bed that night, he chews on the stem of his pen cap, thinking over the events of his day. Slowly, in a manner that could almost be described as cautious, he picks up the empty composition book Lara gave him and opens it. His hand hovers over the blank page for a few moments, then he puts pen on paper and begins to write.

---

You made dinner reservations for his visit this Saturday. You’re getting ready for it when there’s a knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Spencer calls from the living room.

You return to fixing your hair up. You’re not expecting anyone, so it’s probably just a package or a neighbor. But just a few moments later, you hear Spencer raise his voice.

“No! No, I don’t—don’t touch me, please.”

You’re only half dressed, but hurry out to the living room anyways. When you round the corner, you immediately see what the problem is: JJ has dropped by unexpectedly.

It’s not that Spencer doesn’t want to see his team. They just bring memories with them, and he had decided shortly after his birthday that he wasn’t ready to confront that yet.

He’s standing a little ways back from the door, staring at JJ while she looks back with hurt on her face. “Spence--” she starts before she sees you.

At Spencer’s side, you place a hand on his arm and he takes a step behind you. “JJ, what are you doing here?”

She struggles to keep her eyes off of him as she answers. “(Y/N), I’m sorry, I just—Will and I made cookies with the boys today and we had a lot of extra, so I just wanted to drop some off for you. I—I didn’t know Spence was here. I didn’t mean to--”

You hold up a hand to stop her. “It’s okay, JJ. You couldn’t have known. You were just trying to do something nice.”

She nods, relieved at your understanding. “Yeah. Yeah, I….” She blows out a breath, then holds out a plastic wrapped plate of cookies to you. You take it from her with a quiet thank you. Then she looks back to the man that’s essentially hiding behind you as best as he can, despite how tall he is. “Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wouldn’t want me to touch you.”

There’s a tug on your clothing as he curls his fingers into the fabric on the small of your back. You tilt your head to look at him, but his gaze is on the floor. “You…” he glances up once, then looks back down. “You should ask next time,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” she replies, just as softly. “I will.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheeks to hold back a smile. Spencer often struggles to advocate for his needs, especially with his friends and colleagues, in fear of being a burden or more of a nuisance than he thinks others already perceive him as. He did it a lot with you when you first started dating. It took a lot of time and reassurance that yes, you really did want to know his wants and needs, for him to open up. Telling JJ to ask before touching him may seem small from the outside, but it’s a big deal for him.

After a rather awkward silence, JJ speaks again. “Well, um, I should get going. Just… let us know if you need anything, okay, Spence? We—the team, we’re all here for you.”

“That’s rich,” Spencer mutters behind you and you freeze. You recognize that edge to his voice. It’s usually accompanied by sharp words and remarks that he’ll regret later.

Please please please tell me JJ didn’t hear that.

“I’m sorry?”

Fuck.

“I hate to rush you out, JJ, but we have dinner reservations, so--” you try to interject but Spencer speaks over you.

“I’m just saying, why should I believe you’re here for me when you weren’t last time?”

JJ’s eyebrows come together. “I… don’t understand, I’ve always--”

“No, you haven’t!” It’s like Spencer can’t get the words out fast enough, the way he keeps interrupting before either of you can finish a sentence. This is clearly something that’s been weighing on him. You just wish he was unloading it onto his therapist rather than poor JJ, his best friend outside of you, who’s just trying to be nice. “Ten years ago I was shooting up in police station bathrooms and Emily is the only one who said a damn thing.”

His grip on your clothes tightens, forcing you to take a step back. You move the plate of cookies to one hand and reach back with the other, circling it around his wrist. “Spencer.”

Realization dawns on JJ’s face and she crosses her arms. “Spence, I couldn’t--”

“You couldn’t.” The little laugh he lets out derisive. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

You don’t know where all this is coming from or what he’s referring to, but JJ does, her expression hardening.

“You know what would have happened if the higher ups found out,” she says. “I was protecting your job. We all were.”

“You shouldn’t have!” he cries, emotions other than anger seeping into the words. “This damn job is one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me! I got anthrax poisoning, I still have issues with my knee from being shot. I nearly died from a shot in the neck, and let’s not forget, I was framed for murder by a psychopath I arrested, who then kidnapped my mother while I was in prison! Oh, and what else? Oh right, this job is the reason I’m a fucking addict in the first place!”

JJ’s clearly trying to hold back tears now, but one slips out and your heart aches for her. You close your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, then speak quietly but firmly. “Spencer, you need to leave the room.”

You can hear him breathing shakily behind you. “(Y/N)--”

“Now.” You squeeze his wrist and he finally lets go of your clothing. He takes a few steps away, stops, turns back and opens his mouth to say something, but at the look you give him, shuts it and continues on his way out.

A sniffle draws your attention back to JJ, who’s looking up at the ceiling and swiping at the tears sliding down. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I shouldn’t have come by without giving you a heads-up. I’ve just made things worse.”

“No, JJ, don’t be sorry. It--” There’s thumping noises from further back in the apartment so you step forward and shut the front door behind you. She has her arms wrapped around herself when you turn back.

“It’s not your fault,” you continue. “You were just trying to be nice. You’re a good friend to him. He’s just… everything is really raw for him right now, if that makes sense?”

She nods, wiping at her eyes again.

“It’s, uh, not an excuse, though,” you clarify. “That’s not what I’m trying to say. You didn’t do anything wrong. That was all him, so please don’t blame yourself.”

JJ is quiet for a bit, staring at the floor. Then she says, “I should get going.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” you agree quietly. Realizing you’re still holding the plate of cookies in one hand, you lift it slightly and add, “Thanks for these. And, um… I’m so sorry about that.”

She shakes her head and glances at the door. “Don’t be. Like you said, it was all him,” she murmurs.

You know she’s right, but you’re still barely able to stop yourself from apologizing again as she descends the stairs. You can’t help but feel like you should have done more, stopped him somehow, even though you don’t know how you could have. The way his behavior changed… it was like he wanted to get it all out, and when Spencer Reid wants to say something, it’s nearly impossible to get him to stop.

The apartment isn’t quiet when you walk back in. There’s the scraping and clatter of a desk drawer, followed by frantic footsteps and the thud of books falling off the shelves. You know what he’s doing, and you know he won’t find anything, so you just lock the front door and continue on to the kitchen to put the cookies away.

You lean on the counter and cover your face with your hands. It doesn’t matter if you mess up your hair or face, or anything, really, because you’re not making it to dinner anymore.

You stay like that for a while, eyes closed, trying to think of a place to even start with Spencer after all of that. When the sounds of him tearing through the apartment stop, you lift you head back up and promptly jump—he’s staring at you from the nearest doorway.

“Jesus, Spencer--”

“Where’s my stuff?” he asks, and the seriousness in his tone of voice makes your anxiety spike. You know exactly what he means by stuff.

“It’s gone. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Yeah, but it’s…” he trails off and his expression puzzles you. It almost looks like he’s confused. “It’s all gone.”

Ah. “Yeah, well, I know you think you’re sneaky, but you’re very much the opposite when you’re not sober,” you reply. “Finding your hiding spots wasn’t hard.”

He drops his gaze to the floor, frowning. “I don’t like it when you move my things,” he says quietly.

“I don’t like it when you use,” you counter.

He visibly flinches, then his hand tightens on the door frame. “I’m not going to—to take it, I just want to hold it. Where’s my stuff?” he repeats.

“Holding it, right,” you sigh.

“It’s comforting,” he argues.

“Even if I believed that, it wouldn’t matter, Spencer. I threw it all out. There’s none here.”

The humming noise he makes is angry, and he rocks back and forth on his feet in an agitated manner. “You shouldn’t… I don’t….”

I don’t have the energy for this. It’s a thought you feel terrible about as soon as you have it, but it’s the truth. Lara had cautioned you before his first visit that he was going to be hypersensitive to disappointment and frustration until he learned how to cope with the feelings he’d been using the Dilaudid to block out. Unfortunately, the information, while useful, didn’t always make his emotional extremes easier to deal with.

You run a hand down your face. “Spencer…” you start. You’re not sure what to continue with, but you don’t have to—for whatever reason, that sets him off.

He tears his eyes away from the floor to glare at you. “Don’t—don’t touch my things ever again!” Then he turns and all but runs to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

You suck in a breath and drop your head to the counter. The marble is cool and you thump your forehead against it gently a few times, focusing on breathing in and out slowly to calm down. When you’re ready, you walk as quietly as you can to the bedroom door and press your ear against it to hear the unmistakable sound of Spencer sobbing into his pillow.

Part of you wants to go in and comfort him, but you suspect that you’d just make it worse right now since some of his frustration is directed at you. And truth be told, you’re frustrated with him, too. So you retreat to the living room, flopping down on the couch and pulling out your phone to call the restaurant to cancel your reservations. Doing so is more upsetting than you expected; a few tears of your own slide down your face after you hang up. Before you know it, you’re calling Tara.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks you.

“I…” You swallow down the lump in your throat. “Spencer’s… we’re having a bad day. If you’re not busy, can I talk to you about it?”

“Of course,” is her gentle reply, and you pull yourself to your feet, moving to the farthest point away from the bedroom in the apartment so Spencer won’t overhear.

“He got angry when you told him you got rid of everything?” she guesses when you reach that part.

“Yeah. He told me that he doesn’t like it when I move his things. I already knew that; that’s why everything else is where he left it. I think he was mostly just caught off guard that I knew all his hiding places.”

“If he’s having a trauma response to seeing JJ, he’s not going to be thinking clearly, either,” Tara points out. “I wasn’t there, so I could be wrong, but from what you’ve said, it sounds like she was some sort of trigger for him.”

“That’s more than a fair assessment. It’s just… confusing,” you say. “He wasn’t like this with her when he first got home from prison. He actually spent a lot of time at JJ’s house before his relapse. He’d go over and hold Michael when he couldn’t sleep. Why is seeing his best friend suddenly such a bad thing?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t have to make sense to us. It only has to make sense to the traumatized part of the brain,” she explains. “He may not even know why himself.”

“Hmm.” You ponder it for a moment. “I think I’d find that interesting if I wasn’t living it.”

Tara laughs out loud at that. “Yeah, I’ve found that to be rather commonplace sentiment in the field of psychology.”

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling calmer. “Thanks for listening,” you say. “I feel better now.”

“Anytime, (Y/N).”

You exchange goodbyes, making plans to catch up properly over lunch next week. You hang up, then tiptoe back to the bedroom door. It’s quiet now; Spencer seems to have stopped crying. You knock softly. “Honey? Can I come in?”

When he doesn’t respond, you try the door handle. It’s unlocked, which is a good sign—he’s upset, but not upset enough to completely shut you out. You open the door just enough to look in.

Spencer’s on the bed as expected, huddled under his weighted blanket. His back is to the door and you see his shoulders shuddering in the little breaths that follow him crying. In your experience, he usually seeks out comfort before this stage, often having the breakdown itself in your arms or stumbling into them halfway through. This is a bit of uncharted territory. You know that after outbursts of negative emotions, he tends to need reassurance and touch from someone to help him decompress and feel better. You just don’t know if that’s going to hold true for this kind of reaction. A trauma response, Tara called it. You hope it will, because you don’t know what else to do.

“I’m going to come in now,” you tell him before taking a step inside. You leave the door open behind you so he won’t feel trapped, then slowly approach him, looking out for signs that he doesn’t want you near—tensing muscles, slight rocking, shaking his head—but he stays still.

Once you sit down on the edge of the bed you can see his face. His eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red and raw from wiping away tears. A few are still slipping out, sliding sideways down his face and dropping onto the wet patch on his pillowcase as he stares blankly at the wall across the room.

Hesitantly, you reach out and touch his arm as lightly as you can. He takes in a deep breath, but does nothing to suggest that he wants you to remove it. After a few moments to ensure that he’s okay with touch, you start running your hand up and down his back. He whimpers a little in response, closing his eyes and titling back into your touch.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

You don’t get a straightforward answer. He chews on his bottom lip for a bit before speaking in a scratchy voice. “Can you…?” he mumbles, lifting his head up slightly from the pillow, then dropping it back down. You don’t know what he’s asking for until you see some of his fingers poking out from under the blanket and the stroking motion they’re making.

You maneuver across the mattress to sit against the headboard, jostling him as little as you can, and he shifts to place his head in your lap. When you start carding your fingers through his hair, his eyes flutter closed and he lets out a little sigh.

“What’s going on?” you ask once the tension has faded and his body has settled fully into the mattress. He just shrugs and you press your lips together to hold back a sigh. You’re familiar with him going nonverbal and you know that he can’t help it, but it’s discouraging. One of the main things he’s been working on is being more open about his emotions. It’s been a welcome change to not have to pry things out of him. But he seems to have gone right back to old habits tonight and it’s… well, it’s disappointing.

The silence carries on for a long time as you continue to run your hands through his hair. He’s so still and relaxed that you think he may have fallen asleep until he takes in a deep, shuddering breath and clears his throat. “I… I want to go back,” he whispers.

“Back whe--” you start, then your heart drops as you realize what he means. “Oh.”

Your hands fall to your lap as he sits up and clambers out of bed, muttering, “gonna get changed.” He shuts the bathroom door behind him—for whatever reason, he’s not always comfortable with you seeing him changing or in the shower anymore—and you sit still for a few moments, processing what he just said. After over a month of listening to him express his desire to come home—begging you, even, in the beginning—you were unprepared to hear the opposite.

You shake your head slightly to try and clear it, then follow his lead, leaving the bed and changing out of your fancy clothes, trying not to think about how much you had been looking forward to wearing them to the restaurant.

Spencer remains quiet for the drive back to his treatment center, staring out the passenger side window, legs pulled into his chest. He mumbles a quick “bye” to you when you check him back in—no hug or kiss on the cheek like you’ve grown accustomed to. Instead he turns right back to the nurse and staff member running the process and asks, “Is Matt working tonight? I need to talk to him.”

At least he wants to talk to someone, you tell yourself as you leave, trying to soothe the sting caused by the fact that the someone isn’t you.

---

The next time you see him is six days later, on Friday evening. You’ve only talked once since Saturday, over the phone on Wednesday night, and it wasn’t a long call. He was upset about the horse therapy appointment being canceled that afternoon because of the weather—it had rained hard all day—and didn’t say much else. He ended the call before the ten minute mark, saying that he was tired and wanted to go lie down.

He also didn’t request a visit for the weekend—he either didn’t think his treatment team would approve it or he just didn’t want one. So you’re visiting him at the center today. You’ve brought dinner with you—you cooked one of his favorites yourself—but before you eat, you’re having an appointment with him and his therapist.

Spencer glances up only briefly when you enter the office, quickly looking back down. One of his knees is bouncing.

You sit down on the other side of the couch, looking between him and Lara in the chair across from you. “So, um, what’s going on?” you ask.

Spencer looks to Lara and she gives him an encouraging nod. He takes in a deep breath before speaking. “I… I wanted to talk to you about what ha—happened last week,” he says quietly, keeping his gaze on his lap.

You don’t know why exactly he wants to do it here, with his therapist, but wanting to talk about it at all is a good sign.. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“Right, um. Seeing… seeing JJ, it--” he stops abruptly, and his hands tremble slightly as he runs them down his thighs. “Sorry, doing… doing this is making me really anxious.”

“Take your time,” Lara says and you nod in agreement.

“Okay.” He runs his hands through his hair a few times before continuing. “Se—seeing her brought up emotions and, and memories I wasn’t ready to, um, confront. It… it really tri—triggered me.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” you say quietly.

Spencer grimaces at the words. He lifts his hand, puts it back down, then lifts it again and rubs at one of his eyes. “I…” he starts, then fixes his gaze on the floor and goes silent.

“(Y/N).” You tear your eyes from him and look at Lara. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Spencer about Saturday? Maybe what it was like for you?”

“Oh. Um.” You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. You’ve worried about how what you say could effect him since his relapse—one of your biggest fears is saying something that would drive him to use. But it’s stressful to keep up with, and with his therapist is probably the best place to start ridding yourself of your new habit of… well, of walking on eggshells around him.

“I think it would be good for him to know,” Lara says.

“Alright.” You lace your fingers together in your lap. “I guess it was just… startling to me. JJ’s your best friend and you’ve never acted that way to her. Or anyone, really, other than your father.”

Spencer stays silent, but flinches at the mention of his dad.

“Do you have anything to say to that?” Lara prompts. He shakes his head, so she looks back to you. “How did seeing Spencer like that make you feel?”

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly; you’re a little scared to say, not wanting to make him feel worse. “It was… distressing. Especially when he got mad at me for getting rid of his Dilaudid. I know he doesn’t like having his things touched without permission but I don’t think it was reasonable to expect that I wouldn’t have done that.”

Lara nods. “That makes sense. But our feelings aren’t always logical.”

“Yeah, I understand. I guess I just wish he would have told me what was wrong instead of being silent--”

Spencer finally speaks up then, in protest. “I couldn’t help it!”

“I—I know that,” you argue back. “I just—I’m just telling you how I felt.”

He looks away, folding his arms and sinking further into the couch.

“Spencer,” Lara says gently. “You wanted to know how (Y/N) felt, remember? And we talked about how you were probably going to hear things you wouldn’t like.”

You blink, taken aback that this was his idea. And with that comes the realization of just how long it’s been since he’s asked how you’re feeling. Thinking back, you realize that the last time you had a conversation that wasn’t only focused on his feelings and well-being was the day you found him asleep and tied to his mother. This… it’s Spencer before prison.

You’re drawn out of your thoughts by him sighing and muttering, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Alright. Anything else?” Lara asks you.

There’s a lot else, you’re discovering, but you’re not sure you can unpack it all right now. “Maybe…” you say. “Maybe he could just tell me what I can do to help when he’s… triggered?”

“I don’t know,” he says dully, and when he catches the small frown on your face, insists, “I don’t.”

“Yet,” Lara adds.

He sighs again. “Yet,” he repeats.

“I know it’s frustrating,” she says. “Your solution to these kinds of feelings before was denial or using. A solution, not just a problem,” she emphasizes. “I want you both to try and think of it like that, and get comfortable with the fact that it’s going to take awhile to overcome those habits.”

A solution, not a problem. It’s… weird to think of his addiction that way, but you can try, so you give her a nod.

“Yeah, yeah,” Spencer mumbles. But behind the defensive body language, he just seems tired.

He seems to relax a little when the meeting wraps up and it’s only the two of you in one of the rooms used for visits. He remains quiet, but when you place the plate of food you dish him across the table from yours, he slides it back and sits in the chair beside you. “Sorry,” he whispers as soon as you take a bite of food.

“For what?” you ask once you’ve swallowed.

“For yelling at you on Saturday,” he says quietly. “I was upset but I shouldn’t have yelled.”

His leg is bouncing under the table; you put your hand on his knee to still it. “Apology accepted,” you say softly.

He shakes his head slightly. “You don’t have to. I was awful to you on Saturday.”

You frown at his skewed interpretation of events. “Spencer, you really weren’t. You yelled at me, yes, but other than that, you were fine.” And you’ve said much worse when you’ve been high.

“I ruined dinner. And don’t say it’s not a big deal,” he adds before you can speak. “You mentioned it every time we spoke in the week leading up to it. You were really excited about it, and I ruined it.”

Spencer’s read you like a book—that was exactly what you were going to say. “Yeah, I was really looking forward to it,” you admit. “And it sucked to have to cancel the reservations. But there will be other dinners, and it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

“But what if I did?” His voice is so quiet that you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t right next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean…” he rocks slightly in his seat, which you immediately recognize as one of his self-soothing behaviors. You move your hand from his knee to his hair, lightly running your fingers through the curls covering the nape of his neck to try and help. His head tilts forward a little at your touch and after a brief silence, he continues. “I just mean that self-sabotage wouldn’t exactly be something new for me.”

“Oh.” You take your time considering it; he won’t believe you if you give in to your knee-jerk reaction to protest the negative feelings he harbors towards himself. But he grows agitated at your silence, rocking a bit harder and rubbing at his eye. You tug his hair lightly without really thinking about it in response.

“I’m just thinking,” you assure. “You deserve an honest, thought-out answer.”

After taking a deep breath, he nods. “Okay. I understand. Maybe you could just, uh… to help c--comfort…” He swallows and his voice drops back to a whisper. “Could you do that again?”

“Do what?”

“Um, pull… pull my hair. You did that a few moments ago. Please?”

You almost want to tease him—a year ago, you would have. But he’s been so timid and unsure when asking for any intimate touch other than cuddling since he got back from prison. You don’t want to discourage him from asking any more than he seems to be discouraging himself.

“Of course, baby,” you answer softly, and do just that. He closes his eyes and drops his head onto your shoulder. “As far as the self-sabotaging goes, you’re… not good at lying to me,” you muse. “And after six years with you, I feel like I’m pretty familiar with all the ways Spencer Reid self-sabotages. This never even crossed my mind until you brought it up, so I don’t see that as being what happened.”

You can’t tell if he believes you. A neutral “okay” is all you get from him, but at least he’s not outright disagreeing.

You gently pull his hair a few more times. “You should eat before it gets cold and we have to heat it up again.”

He takes the suggestion, picking his fork up, but you’ve never seen him less enthused about eating one of his favorite foods. He’s only cleared half of his plate when you’re done with all of yours.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but sigh at the habitual response, and consider your next words carefully. “Spencer, I don’t mean to be pushy, but you told me you were working on not dismissing people’s concern for you when they express it.”

“I am,” he mutters, but doesn’t say anything else, just continues to push his food around his plate aimlessly.

“Well, is something wrong with the food?” you ask. “Did I get the texture wrong, or--”

“No, no,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s not the food. The food’s great. It’s… it’s me that’s the problem.”

Your eyebrows come together. “I don’t understand.”

“I…” He starts to blush. “I’m not eating it all because I think I need to lose some weight.”

“Don’t you dare,” you say immediately without thinking. He makes a startled noise at the same time you clap your hand over your mouth. You definitely don’t want him to lose weight, you just hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

On the day he came home and agreed to treatment, you’d seen just how underweight he’d become as you helped him unbutton his shirt. The stark outline of his ribs against his skin had been scary, and you had no desire to see that again. It was a relief when he started to gain back what he’d lost in prison and afterwards. And you were happy to see him continue to put on even more than that.

You clear your throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. You were just so skinny when you got here. You look good like this.”

“I’ve never weighed this much before,” he says, and the distress in his tone makes you think that this is a fact that has been bothering him for a while. “Some of my clothes are getting too tight.”

“We can buy you new clothes.”

“But we don’t know how much longer the insurance will cover my stay here. Residential treatment is expensive. We don’t need to be spending extra money on clothes when I could just lose the weight instead and not need them.”

“Hey.” You put your hand on his cheek. “I don’t want you to worry about money. The insurance is covering it for now. If they stop, that’s a problem to deal with when we get there. Just focus on getting better.”

He looks away from you, down to his lap. “I should still lose some weight,” he says eventually.

“Have you medical staff told you that?” you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he admits with a sigh.

“Then you’re not allowed to worry about it,” you say firmly. “Finish your dinner.”

Spencer hesitates, but picks his fork back up. The corners of his mouth turn up just slightly when he starts eating again, telling you that despite his fretting, he’s happy not to stop himself from eating as much as he wants.

He seems to be in a much better mood at the end of the evening than he was when you arrived, though a bit more subdued and quieter than normal. He also appears to be very tired. It’s only 7:30 but he keeps yawning. He denies dozing off with his head on your shoulder while you were talking after dinner, but you’re sure he did.

During your parting hug, he nestles his face into your neck just like he always does when you’re sleeping in bed together. “Try and get some good sleep tonight,” you encourage, smoothing your hands down his back. “And Spencer?”

He pulls back to look at you and you settle your hands lightly on his waist. “I meant it, you know.” You squeeze slightly. “When I said you look good like this.”

It takes him a few moments to catch onto what you’re implying; when he does, his eyebrows shoot up and his breath catches. “Oh. O—okay. I’ll, um…” he glances down shyly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You better.” You look over your shoulder as you leave, and the small smile he’s wearing prompts one of your own.

--------------- 

tell me what you thought here!

i'd like to put it out there that i don’t hate jj and i really hope it didn’t come across like that. i hadn’t even planned that scene; it just wrote itself. i promise it’ll be resolved before the end of this fic.

another shoutout to the book The Body Keeps the Score for helping immensely with the planning and writing of this. i literally have pages of notes from it. 

you can also find irl pictures of spencer’s therapy horse here.

all we can do taglist: @thatsonezesty13 , @jhillio , @elitereid

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor

[vincess-princess]

Valentine’s Special

a belated present from me for the Valentine’s day and at the same time a completed request for @cometsnix <3 sorry for making you wait so long, dude, i hope you like it :)

Fandom: Motley Crue Rating: T Pairing: Mick Mars\Nikki Sixx Word count: 1990 Warnings: lovestruck Nikki and an unhealthy obsession with blue eyes Summary: What do you do when you have no money and a local bar sells Valentine’s specials at a discount? Right, you and your friend pretend to be a couple.  Author’s note: basically a little silly ficlet :) haven’t really written fluff for a long time, so this one was fun to do. 

“Ew,” Nikki kicked a cardboard heart that was displayed at the entrance of the bar. “The most stupid holiday in existence. Who even came up with that bullshit?”

“Some gay priest or something,” Vince shrugged. “Dunno, man, girls like it. I tell you, your chances of hooking up on Valentines are way higher than usual. If you know how to act, of course.”

“For you, maybe,” Nikki waved his hand. “But I’m not gonna pretend to be romantic and all that stuff just for a hook-up. They gotta accept the real me, you see?”

“Nobody wants the real you, dude,” Vince laughed. “Especially girls. Anyway, are we entering, or?...”

“I’m in if girls are in,” Tommy smiled widely.

“That’s my boy,” Vince patted his shoulder. Nikki wanted to laugh at how he had to rise on his tiptoes to do that, but then he noticed Mick, who was following them silently, as he always did. He was looking at the cardboard heart lying in the dirt by the bar door. His face was devoid of emotion, but his eyes glinted strangely in the dim light of the bar’s neon sign.

Then he raised his head and looked straight at Nikki, and Nikki felt goosebumps running down his back. He quickly picked up the cardboard heart and put it back in its place.

“What, is our badass Nikki Sixx afraid of getting caught?” Vince, of course, had to comment, but Nikki didn’t even hear him. He turned away from Mick and pushed the door, trying to shake off the strange feeling a second of eye contact with Mick had given him.

The bar was almost full, mostly with couples whispering to each other and laughing too loudly at each other’s jokes. Vince spotted a couple of girls sitting at the bar and eyeing every man who entered, touched Tommy by the shoulder and nodded at them. Tommy’s face lit up. The girls weren’t even that pretty, but those two could fuck whatever moved and what didn’t move they would move themselves and fuck as well.

“Pick a table, guys,” Vince said to Nikki and, pulled by Tommy, headed to the bar, not looking back even once.

Mick and Nikki looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison.

“I swear, they only think about one thing,” Mick murmured. “Let’s go find a table.” He turned around and looked over the bar. The only free places were either at the counter or at little tables for two. Damn it.

“Looks like someone will have to move,” Nikki said mischievously, nodding at the closest booth. The couple inside was in the middle of a passionate kiss.

Mick raised an eyebrow, and Nikki immediately felt like an idiot. Mick was very good at that.

“They can kiss perfectly well at a table for two!” he began, but Mick stopped him with a wave of a hand.

“Go on, hero,” he only said, but Nikki could see a smile in the corners of his mouth. Something warm as though spilled into his chest. Mick didn’t smile that often.

The couple didn’t stop kissing even as he appeared at the table, only letting each other go when he grabbed the guy’s shoulder. “Hey, lovebirds, time to move. Me and my friends need a table.”

The girl looked at him misty-eyed, probably still processing the kiss. The guy, though, understood everything perfectly well and began to go red with anger. Nikki couldn’t measure his height while the guy was sitting, but his shoulders were way wider than his own.

“We were here first!” the dude began.

“Yeah, yeah, heard that,” Nikki interrupted him. In these situations, being outrageously impudent was sometimes the best choice. Sometimes. “You two can move to that table ri-i-ght there,” he pointed at a small table in the corner with dirty plates still on it. “Atmosphere, privacy, music, it’s perfect! Come on, come on,” Nikki pulled the guy out of the booth by the shoulder. For a second he thought that the couple would actually move to that table, but then the guy flexed his muscles threateningly and grabbed Nikki by the collar of his jacket. Well, damn, this bar surely could use a little shake-up today.

Nikki’s back slammed against the wall. The girl screamed “Jordan!” behind their backs. The guy let go of one side of Nikki’s collar, but only to clench his hand into a fist, which then would certainly collide with Nikki’s nose.

But then a thin palm with long, delicate fingers landed on Jordan’s arm and grasped it firmly, holding it in place.

“Hold your horses, Jordan,” Mick said calmly. He looked absolutely relaxed, and only Nikki and the guy himself could notice how deep those fingers dug into his skin. “Be considerate for once in your life and move to that goddamn table.”

Jordan slowly turned his head and looked Mick in the eye, and Nikki realized with a shudder that Mick was way shorter and slimmer than the guy. Why did he even interfere, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to fight him off since Nikki, with his six-feet height plus four-inch heels wasn’t intimidating enough for him?

Nikki could handle getting beaten, it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last, but he somehow really didn’t want Mick to get hurt because of him.

Seconds passed. Jordan looked at Mick and Mick looked at Jordan, with his icy blue eyes that always left Nikki slightly uncomfortable, and Nikki kept expecting Jordan to punch Mick and the fight to begin. He could already feel his fists clenching at the thought of the guy hitting Mick, and the goosebumps of anticipation running down his neck and back.

Then Jordan’s grip on his collar weakened.

“Okay,” he said, and Nikki only now realized he was holding his breath. Jordan released him and moved to the table in the corner, his girl following him unconfidently and repeatedly shooting glances at Mick and Nikki.

“Wow,” Nikki mumbled, turning to Mick. “How’d you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Well, calmed him down like that,” Nikki felt stupid under Mick’s unblinking gaze. “I thought he was gonna break my nose for sure.”

“Not everything has to be solved with violence, Sixx,” Mick waved his hand. “Now, are you waiting for someone else to occupy that hard-earned table?”

“Yeah, sure,” Nikki hurried to the table probably way faster than was necessary, but he wasn’t ready to undergo something similar again for a damn table. Though if Mick was going to save his ass again… oh, nevermind, he cut himself off. He was perfectly capable of defending himself. Even from guys like Jordan.

Mick followed him, though maybe with more dignity, and they finally settled in the booth, sitting next to each other on a soft couch. An almost irresistible urge to move closer to Mick washed over Nikki, the urge to feel the warmth of his arm against his own. But then Mick would probably look at him with his staggeringly blue eyes full of contempt, and say quietly but very distinctly “Knock it off, Sixx”, and everything would be ruined. So Nikki stayed in his place, almost afraid to even turn his head to look at Mick.

“Whatcha waiting for?” Mick reached out to take a menu from the other side of the table. “Are we gonna eat today or not? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Nikki laughed nervously and took a menu handed to him by Mick. Their fingers brushed, and Nikki almost had a heart attack. He opened the menu on a random page and pretended to read the description of the dish.

What the hell this goddamn holiday was doing to him?

“Hm, Valentine’s special?” Mick said, moving closer to look into the menu. Turned out the page Nikki randomly opened had a special offer for couples on the Valentine’s day – fifty percent off for the second dish if those ordering it were a couple. “Look, it’s pretty cheap.”

“Yeah,” Nikki rasped. “Only we’re not, hm, a couple, y’know. Also we’re both dudes, just saying. They won’t believe us.”

“Well, if you keep being such a sissy, you can as well pass for a girl,” Mick snickered, and this was something Nikki absolutely couldn’t handle. He – a sissy? Fucking watch me.

“Hey!” he waved to the waitress to attract her attention. She was a good-looking girl, but now Nikki didn’t have time for that. As she approached, a notebook in hand, Nikki pointed at the Valentine’s special. “Could we have this, please?”

“Um,” the waitress stammered, “this is only for couples.”

“Yeah, we know,” Nikki nodded. “We are one.”

“You’re trying to prank me, aren’t you?” the waitress laughed nervously. “Sorry, guys, but we don’t give out special offers to anyone who asks.”

“But we’re not ‘anyone’,” Nikki insisted. Mick watched him from the side with those piercing blue eyes, and Nikki could practically feel his heavy gaze on his skin. “We’re a couple. We deserve to get the special offer. Or are you being homophobic? Do you want your establishment to be claimed as such?”

“What? No, no!” the waitress waved her hand, her cheeks flushed. Nikki even felt pity for her. But he needed to prove a point. “But we can’t just give it to you without- without proof-“

“Oh, you need proof?” Mick suddenly said. Nikki turned to him and almost flinched: Mick’s face was so close to his he could see his nostrils moving with every breath he took. “You’ll get it. Come here.”

He wrapped his arm around Nikki’s waist and pulled him closer.

And then he kissed him.

It lasted only a few seconds, a mere brush of their lips together. It was endless, infinite, and at the same time too quick, and over too soon. Mick’s lips were warm and dry, and his hand on Nikki’s waist firm and confident. Nikki wanted to dissolve into his arms, merge into his body, become one with him, breathe his air and- wait, that was getting a little weird.

Mick broke the kiss, and Nikki felt like a part of him had been taken away with it. He blinked a few times, still trying to process what happened.

“See?” he heard Mick’s voice as though from a distance. “Was it enough proof for you?”

“Yes, yes!” the waitress hurried to write the order down in her notebook. “Anything else?”

“Four beers, please,” Mick said, and he was talking so calmly, so casually, like a life-changing event hadn’t just happened to him. Maybe it really didn’t. Maybe he kissed his friends regularly, Nikki just didn’t notice-

“Hey,” Mick turned to him, “are you alright? Was that okay?”

“Er,” Nikki raised his gaze and looked Mick straight in the eyes. How was he supposed to say that was the best thing that happened to him in his entire life? “No, no, it- it was okay, don’t worry. Maybe we could- we could- do it again? Maybe some other bar has Valentine’s specials…”

“Maybe,” a little smile appeared in the corners of Mick’s mouth. “I wouldn’t mind, actually.”

“Me too,” Nikki murmured. His hand, acting on his own, found Mick’s and entwined their fingers. With every second passing Nikki expected Mick to move his hand away, but Mick never did.

They released each other’s hands only when Tommy and Vince came back to their table and plopped down on the other side of it. The girls at the bar looked at them with dreamy eyes.

“They aren’t supermodels, of course,” Vince nodded at them, totally oblivious to the blush that covered both Nikki’s and Mick’s cheeks, and the fact that they were sitting way too close to each other than friends usually do, “but could use some company, if you know what I mean.”

“I’ll pass,” Mick shook his head. His hair tickled Nikki’s cheek.

Nikki shot Mick a quick glance and said, “Me too.”

[aion-rsa]

HBO Max New Releases:. July 2021

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

LeBron James might be out of the NBA playoffs, but he’s still angling to be a big part of the summer entertainment season. That’s because HBO Max’s list of new releases for July 2021 is highlighted by a very special sequel.

Space Jam: A New Legacy premieres on July 16. will find LeBron teaming up with the Looney Tunes in a Warner Bros. IP-extravaganza. Can ‘Bron and the Looney Tunes beat the Goon Squad before Warner Bros.’ server steals LeBron “Bronny” Jr.’s soul (or something)? Let’s hope so. The two other major WB releases this month, No Sudden Move and Tom and Jerry in New York, both come to HBO Max on July 1.

HBO Max is also bringing some fun TV shows to its stream this month. The long-awaited Gossip Girl revival premieres on July 8. That will be followed by Mike White’s satirical limited series The White Lotus on July 11. Ronan Farrow’s excellent book Catch and Kill gets a docuseries adaptation on July 12.

July 1 will see the arrival of library titles like Planet of the Apes, Reservoir Dogs, and Scream. Recent hit Judas and the Black Messiah comes to HBO Max on that date as well. It’s a good month for geek TV with the Doctor Who 2020 Christmas Special (July 1), Nancy Drew season 2 (July 3), and Batwoman season 2 (July 27) all coming home to their streaming residence.

HBO Max New Releases – July 2021

TBA FBOY Island, Max Original Season 1 Premiere Romeo Santos: King of Bachata, 2021 (HBO) Romeo Santos Utopia Live from MetLife Stadium, 2021 (HBO)

July 1 ¡Come! (aka Eat!), 2020 8 Mile, 2002 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven 2, 1996 (HBO) All Dogs Go to Heaven, 1989 (HBO) Behind Enemy Lines, 1997 (HBO) Beneath the Planet of the Apes, 1970 (HBO) Bio-Dome, 1996 (HBO) Black Panthers, 1968 Blackhat, 2015 (HBO) Brubaker, 1980 (HBO) Cantinflas (HBO) Conquest of the Planet of the Apes, 1972 (Extended Version) (HBO) Cousins, 1989 (HBO) Dark Water, 2005 (HBO) Darkness Falls, 2003 (HBO) Demolition Man, 1993 Dirty Work, 1998 (HBO) Disturbia, 2007 (HBO) Doctor Who Holiday 2020 Special: Revolution of the Daleks, 2020 Duplex, 2003 (HBO) Escape from the Planet of the Apes, 1971 (HBO) Eve’s Bayou, 1997 Firestarter, 1984 (HBO) First, 2012 For Colored Girls, 2010 (HBO) For Greater Glory: The True Story of Cristiada, 2012 (HBO) Full Bloom, Max Original Season 2 Finale Ghost in the Machine, 1993 (HBO) The Good Lie, 2014 (HBO) Gun Crazy, 1950 House on Haunted Hill, 1999 Identity Thief, 2013 (Extended Version) (HBO) Ira & Abby, 2007 (HBO) Joe Versus the Volcano, 1990 Judas and the Black Messiah, 2021 (HBO) Laws Of Attraction, 2004 (HBO) Lucky, 2017 (HBO) Maid in Manhattan, 2002 Married to the Mob, 1988 (HBO) Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, 1997 Mississippi Burning, 1988 (HBO) Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mousehunt, 1997 (HBO) My Brother Luca (HBO) No Sudden Move Pleasantville, 1998 The Prince of Tides, 1991 Project X, 1987 (HBO) The Punisher, 2017 (HBO) Punisher: War Zone, 2008 (HBO) Rambo, 2008 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Reds, 1981 (HBO) Reservoir Dogs, 1992 (HBO) The Return of the Living Dead, 1985 (HBO) Return of the Living Dead III, 1993 (Extended Version) (HBO) Rounders, 1998 (HBO) Saturday Night Fever, 1977 (Director’s Cut) (HBO) Scream, 1996 Scream 2, 1997 Scream 3, 2000 Semi-Tough, 1977 (HBO) The Sessions, 2012 (HBO) Set Up, 2012 (HBO) Snake Eyes, 1998 (HBO) Staying Alive, 1983 (HBO) Stuart Little, 1999 The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, 2003 Tom and Jerry in New York, Max Original Series Premiere Trick ‘R Treat, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Daddy’s Little Girls, 2007 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Diary of a Mad Black Woman, 2005 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s I Can Do Bad All by Myself, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea Goes To Jail, 2009 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Big Happy Family, 2011 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Madea’s Family Reunion, 2006 (HBO) Tyler Perry’s Why Did I Get Married Too, 2010 (HBO) The Watcher, 2016 (HBO) The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep, 2007 (HBO) Westworld (Movie), 1973 White Chicks (Unrated & Uncut Version), 2004 The White Stadium, 1928 Won’t Back Down, 2012 (HBO) Zero Days, 2016 (HBO)

July 2 Lo Que Siento por Ti (aka What I Feel for You) (HBO)

July 3 Let Him Go, 2020 (HBO) Nancy Drew, Season 2

July 7 Dr. STONE, Seasons 1 and 2 (Subtitled) (Crunchyroll Collection) Shiva Baby, 2021 (HBO)

July 8 The Dog House: UK, Max Original Season 2 Premiere Gossip Girl, Max Original Series Premiere Human Capital, 2020 (HBO) The Hunt, 2020 (HBO) Looney Tunes Cartoons, Max Original Season 2 Premiere

July 9 Frankie Quinones: Superhomies (HBO)

July 11 The White Lotus, Limited Series Premiere (HBO)

July 12 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 15 Tom & Jerry, 2021 (HBO)

July 16 Betty, Season 2 Finale (HBO) Space Jam: A New Legacy, Warner Bros. Film Premiere, 2021  Un Disfraz Para Nicolas (aka A Costume for Nicolas) (HBO)

July 17 The Empty Man, 2020 (HBO)

July 18 100 Foot Wave, Documentary Series Premiere (HBO)

July 22 Through Our Eyes, Max Original Documentary Series Premiere

July 23 Corazon De Mezquite (aka Mezquite’s Heart) (HBO)

July 24 Freaky, 2020 (HBO)

July 26 Catch and Kill: The Podcast Tapes, Documentary Series Finale (HBO)

July 27 Batwoman, Season 2 Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel (HBO)

July 30 Uno Para Todos (aka One for All) (HBO)

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Leaving HBO Max – July 2021  

July 3 The ABC’s Of Covid-19: A CNN/Sesame Street Town Hall for Kids and Parents Part 2, 2020

July 4 Annabelle, 2014 Annabelle Comes Home, 2019 (HBO) The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It, 2021 The Curse of La Llorona, 2019 The Nun, 2018

July 5 Lost And Delirious, 2001

July 8 Mad Max: Fury Road, 2015

July 10 It: Chapter 2, 2019 (HBO)

July 11 An Elephant’s Journey, 2018 In the Heights, 2021 Thanks for Sharing, 2013

July 15 Burlesque, 2010

July 17 The Notebook, 2004

July 26 The King’s Speech, 2010

July 31 17 Again, 2009 A Clockwork Orange, 1971 A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge, 1985 A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, 1988 A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, 1989 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 1984 A Nightmare on Elm Street, 2010 Adam’s Rib, 1949 America’s Sweethearts, 2001 Anaconda, 1997 The Apparition, 2012 (HBO) Are We There Yet?, 2005 Argo, 2012 (Alternate Version) (HBO) AVP: Alien vs. Predator, 2004 (Alternate Version) (HBO) Badlands, 1973 Beau Brummel, 1954 The Benchwarmers, 2006 Beverly Hills Chihuahua 2, 2011 (HBO) Beverly Hills Chihuahua 3: Viva La Fiesta!, 2012 (HBO) Billy Madison, 1995 (HBO) The Book Of Eli, 2010 (HBO) Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992 Bringing Up Baby, 1938 The City of Lost Children, 1995 The Color Purple, 1985 The Comebacks, 2007 (Alternate Version) (HBO) The Conjuring 2, 2016 The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course, 2002 (HBO) Don’t Let Go, 2019 (HBO) Downton Abbey, 2019 (HBO) El Angel (aka The Angel), 2018 (HBO) Eyes Wide Shut, 1999 Fool’s Gold, 2008 Fort Tilden, 2015 (HBO) The Four Feathers, 2002 (HBO) The Gay Divorcee, 1934 Get A Job, 2016 (HBO) The Goonies, 1985 Grand Canyon, 1991 (HBO) Hairspray, 1988 Happy Gilmore, 1996 (HBO) Hellboy Animated Collection, 2006, 2007 The Hurricane, 1999 (HBO) I Know What You Did Last Summer, 1997 Iniciales SG (aka Initials S.G.), 2019 (HBO) J. Edgar, 2011 Jackie Chan’s First Strike, 1997 Jacob’s Ladder, 1990 (HBO) Jeremiah Johnson, 1972 Keeper Of The Flame, 1943 Kill Bill: Vol. 1, 2003 (HBO) Kill Bill: Vol. 2, 2004 (HBO) Kung Fu Hustle, 2005 The Lego Ninjago Movie, 2014 Less Than Zero, 1987 (HBO) Life Stinks, 1991 (HBO) Lincoln, 2012 (HBO) Little Children, 2006 (HBO) Little Man Tate, 1991 (HBO) Lovely & Amazing, 2002 The Lucky One, 2012(HBO) The Madness of King George, 1994 (HBO) Marisol, 2019 (HBO) Me 3.769, 2019 (HBO) Michael Clayton, 2007 Mickey Blue Eyes, 1999 Monster-In-Law, 2005 Mulholland Dr., 2001 Muralla (aka Muralla, The Goalkeeper), 2018 (HBO) Murder on the Orient Express, 1974 (HBO) Music and Lyrics, 2007 My Dream Is Yours, 1949 My Girl 2, 1994 My Girl, 1991 My Sister’s Keeper, 2009 Now, Voyager, 1942 Old Dogs, 2009 (HBO) The Opposite Sex, 1956 The Pledge, 2001 (HBO) Precious, 2009 (HBO) The Producers, 1968 The Prophecy, 1995 (HBO) The Prophecy II, 1998 (HBO) The Prophecy III: The Ascent, 2000 (HBO) Prophecy IV: The Uprising, 2005 (HBO) Prophecy V: The Forsaken, 2005 (HBO) Pulp Fiction, 1994 Rachel and The Stranger, 1948 Radio Days, 1987 (HBO) The Reluctant Debutante, 1958 Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds IV: Nerds in Love, 2005 (HBO) Revenge of the Nerds, 1984 (HBO) Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, 1991 Roger & Me, 1989 Rollerball, 2002 (HBO) Romance on the High Seas, 1948 Rumble in the Bronx, 1996 Safe House, 2012 (HBO) Salvador, 1986 (HBO) Shall We Dance?, 2004 Shallow Hal, 2001 (HBO) Shocker, 1989 (HBO) Sinbad of the Seven Seas, 1989 (HBO) Sprung, 1997 (HBO) Stop-Loss, 2008 (HBO) Sunshine Cleaning, 2009 (HBO) Swing Time, 1936 Tea for Two, 1950 Thief, 1981 (HBO) This Is Spinal Tap, 1984 (HBO) Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 2011 (HBO) Top Hat, 1935 Trapped in Paradise, 1994 (HBO) Troll 2, 1990 (HBO) Troll, 1986 (HBO) Two Minutes of Fame, 2020 (HBO) Underdog, 2007 (HBO) Untamed Heart, 1993 (HBO) Up in the Air, 2009 (HBO) The Visitor, 2008 Waiting for Guffman, 1997 The Wedding Singer, 1998 Wendy, 2020 (HBO) Wildcats, 1986 (HBO) The Wings of Eagles, 1957 Without Love, 1945 Woman of the Year, 1942 Worth Winning, 1989 (HBO) Young Man with a Horn, 1949

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[theresabookforthat]

MUSICIAN MEMOIRS

We’ve got the music in us this week! With the attention Ani Di Franco is getting for her new memoir, NO WALLS AND THE RECURRING DREAM, it’s a good time to share the stage for some encores. The following memoirs, from some of the most iconic musicians, have extraordinary tales to tell (often with lyrics) and will surely move readers to listen to their music with enhanced appreciation:  

 NO WALLS AND THE RECURRING DREAM: A MEMOIR by Ani DiFranco

In her new memoir, No Walls and the Recurring Dream, Ani DiFranco recounts her early life from a place of hard-won wisdom, combining personal expression, the power of music, feminism, political activism, storytelling, philanthropy, entrepreneurship, and much more into an inspiring whole. In these frank, honest, passionate, and often funny pages is the tale of one woman’s eventful and radical journey to the age of thirty. Ani continues to be a major touring and recording artist as well as a celebrated activist and feminist, standing as living proof that you can overcome all personal and societal obstacles to be who you are and to follow your dreams.

 LET’S GO (SO WE CAN GET BACK): A MEMOIR OF RECORDING AND DISCORDING WITH WILCO, ETC. by Jeff Tweedy

The singer, guitarist, and songwriter, best known for his work with Wilco, opens up about his past, his songs, the music, and the people that have inspired him. Honest, funny, and disarming, Tweedy’s memoir will bring readers inside both his life and his musical process, illuminating his singular genius and sharing his story, voice, and perspective for the first time.

WAGING HEAVY PEACE by Neil Young

Legendary singer and songwriter Neil Young’s storied career has spanned over forty years and yielded some of the modern era’s most enduring music. Now for the first time ever, Young reflects upon his life—from his Canadian childhood, to his part in the sixties rock explosion with Buffalo Springfield and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, through his later career with Crazy Horse and numerous private challenges. An instant classic, Waging Heavy Peace is as uncompromising and unforgettable as the man himself.

 MY OWN DEVICES: TRUE STORIES FROM THE ROAD ON MUSIC, SCIENCE, AND SENSELESS LOVE by Dessa

Dessa defies category—she is an intellectual with an international rap career and an inhaler in her backpack; a creative writer fascinated by philosophy and behavioral science; and a funny, charismatic performer dogged by blue moods and heartache. She’s ferocious on stage and endearingly neurotic in the tour van. Her stunning literary debut memoir stitches together poignant insights on love, science, and language—a demonstration of just how far the mind can travel while the body is on a six-hour ride to the next gig.

USELESS MAGIC: LYRICS AND POETRY by Florence Welch

A stunning illustrated collection of lyrics, art, ephemera, and never-before-seen poetry from the musician Florence Welch of Florence + The Machine. Packed full of Florence’s on-the-page musings and reproductions of the art that has inspired her dramatic, genre-defying music, she showcases the wide-ranging influences that have impacted her artistry. From Pre-Raphaelite painters and Renaissance artists to Frida Kahlo and Tamara de Lempicka to American soul music, she draws on multiple sources of inspiration to inform her musical stylings and poetry.

TESTIMONY by Robbie Robertson

In this remarkable memoir of the Band’s storied career, Robertson weaves together tales of his half-Jewish, half-Mohawk Indian upbringing in Toronto with his rollicking early years on the road with rockabilly legend Ronnie Hawkins. He recounts being catapulted to fame with the success of their groundbreaking debut and takes us through the astonishing run of albums that culminated in one of music history’s most famous farewell concerts, The Last Waltz. More broadly, this is the story of a time and place—the moment when rock ’n’ roll crawled out of the swamps and became life. It’s the story of change, as America tumbled through the ’60s, and of how figures like Dylan and the Band redefined both music and culture, with a little help from sex and drugs. And it’s the story of the profound friendship between five young men who together would create a new kind of popular music, one that still fascinates us.

HUNGER MAKES ME A MODERN GIRL: A MEMOIR by Carrie Brownstein

Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl is the deeply personal and revealing narrative of Brownstein’s life in music, from ardent fan to pioneering female guitarist of Sleater-Kinney, to comedic performer and luminary in the independent rock world. Though Brownstein struggled against the music industry’s sexist double standards, by 2006 she was the only woman to earn a spot on Rolling Stone readers’ list of the “25 Most Underrated Guitarists of All-Time.” This book intimately captures what it feels like to be a young woman in a rock-and-roll band, from her days at the dawn of the underground feminist punk-rock movement that would define music and pop culture in the 1990s through today.

NEVER BROKEN: SONGS ARE ONLY HALF THE STORY by Jewel

New York Times bestselling poet and multi-platinum singer-songwriter Jewel explores her unconventional upbringing and extraordinary life in an inspirational memoir that covers her childhood to fame, marriage, and motherhood.

DECODED by Jay-Z

Jay-Z is one of the most famous, respected, beloved, and controversial figures in all of popular culture. His critically acclaimed and bestselling one-of-a-kind book tells his story from the corner to the world stage through revealing narratives, annotated lyrics to 36 songs, and dazzling art and design.

JOURNALS by Kurt Cobain

Kurt Cobain filled dozens of notebooks with lyrics, drawings, and writings about his plans for Nirvana and his thoughts about fame, the state of music, and the people who bought and sold him and his music. His journals reveal an artist who loved music, who knew the history of rock, and who was determined to define his place in that history. Here is a mesmerizing, incomparable portrait of the most influential musician of his time.

 For more on these and related titles visit the collection, Musician Memoirs

[educatedinyellow]

A meme of good taste

Rules: tag 9 people with excellent taste

Thanks very much, @beastlyanachronism, for tagging me! I enjoyed reading your answers very much, too. I hope “The Killers” concert you’re going to is wonderful! Okay, here we go with a bit of chatter from me about things I like...

Colour(s): Blue and green, separately or in combination; unrelatedly, purple.

Last band I saw live: I don’t think I’ve ever been to a band’s concert. I’ve certainly been to my fair share of symphonies and operas (my mother works in that business) and also musicals and stage-plays-that-have-music-in-there-somewhere. This isn’t actually what the question asked, but some of my most fondly remembered live music experiences include: seeing Les Mis for the first time in London, age 12, with my grandparents; seeing John Williams conduct a concert of his famous movie scores at the Hollywood Bowl with guest star James Earl Jones acting as the presenter; and getting to sing the role of the evil queen in my high school’s production of “Once Upon A Mattress.”

Last song I listened to: “King of Spain” by Moxy Fruvous. I first discovered it through an ancient House, MD fanvid that has long since disappeared off of the internet, but I continue to find it upbeat and cheerful in the most 1990s way possible :)

Lipstick or chapstick: Neither.

Last movie I watched: It was Black Panther – my husband didn’t get a chance to see it in the theater (I did), so for Father’s Day we rented it from our local Redbox.

Last 3 TV shows I watched: Hmmm, well I’m going to discount the 10 billion children’s shows I watch with my son and only answer with shows I watch for myself. So…Supernatural (I’m cherry picking my way through 13 seasons extremely out of order, woot!), Victoria season 2, and…either Shetland or The Crown, I can’t remember which I watched more recently.

Last YouTube video I watched: It was the Carpool Karaoke with Paul McCartney. Really lovely.

3 characters I identify with: Granada Watson, Spock, Charles Bingley

Books I’m currently reading: I’m about to reread at least some of Terry Pratchett’s The Truth in service of my snail-paced quest to write Vimes/Vetinari fic. That book’s got some vintage Vetinari snark, some interesting lacunae that I’d like to fill in, plus we get to see Vimes commentating on Vetinari like so:

“He said” – here Vimes consulted his own notebook – “ ‘I’ve killed him, I’ve killed him, I’m sorry.’ They saw what looked very much like a body on the floor. Lord Vetinari was holding a knife. They ran downstairs to fetch someone. On their return, they found His Lordship missing. The body was that of Rufus Drumknott, the Patrician’s personal secretary. He had been stabbed and is seriously ill. A search of the buildings located Lord Vetinari in the stables. He was unconscious on the floor. A horse was saddled. The saddlebags contained…seventy thousand dollars…Captain, this is damn stupid.”

“I know, sir,” said Carrot. “They are the facts, sir.”

“But they’re not the right facts! They’re stupid facts!”

“I know, sir. I can’t imagine His Lordship trying to kill anyone.”

“Are you mad?” said Vimes. “I can’t imagine him saying sorry!”

… “Why was His Lordship unconscious, sir?”

Vimes shrugged. “It looks as though he was trying to get on the horse. He’s got a game leg. Maybe he slipped – I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

Hee hee. I’m just entertained at how insulted Vimes is that someone’s trying to make him doubt, not Vetinari’s morals, but his competency. I mean, it’s a perfectly respectable frame job and all, Vimes just isn’t buying what they’re selling :)

Everyone has good taste, so I tag everyone. Please do this if you’re interested!

[blackkudos]

Octavia Butler

Octavia Estelle Butler (June 22, 1947 – February 24, 2006) was an American science fiction writer. A multiple recipient of both the Hugo and Nebula awards, Butler was one of the best-known women in the field. In 1995, she became the first science fiction writer to receive the MacArthur Fellowship, nicknamed the "Genius Grant".

Early life

Octavia Estelle Butler was born on June 22, 1947, in Pasadena, California, the only child of Octavia Margaret Guy, a housemaid, and Laurice James Butler, a shoeshine man. Butler's father died when she was seven, so Octavia was raised by her mother and maternal grandmother in what she would later recall as a strict Baptist environment.

Growing up in the racially integrated community of Pasadena allowed Butler to experience cultural and ethnic diversity in the midst of racial segregation. She accompanied her mother to her cleaning work and witnessed her entering white people's houses through back doors. Her mother was treated poorly by her employers.

From an early age, an almost paralyzing shyness made it difficult for Butler to socialize with other children. Her awkwardness, paired with a slight dyslexia that made schoolwork a torment, led her to believe that she was "ugly and stupid, clumsy, and socially hopeless," becoming an easy target for bullies. As a result, she frequently passed the time reading at the Pasadena Public Library and writing reams and reams of pages in her "big pink notebook". Hooked at first on fairy tales and horse stories, she quickly became interested in science fiction magazines such as Amazing Stories (aka Amazing), Galaxy Science Fiction (aka Galaxy), and The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, and began reading stories by John Brunner, Zenna Henderson, and Theodore Sturgeon.

At age 10, she begged her mother to buy her a Remington typewriter on which she "pecked [her] stories two fingered". At 12, watching the televised version of the film Devil Girl from Mars (1954) convinced her she could write a better story, so she drafted what would later become the basis for her Patternist novels. Happily ignorant of the obstacles that a black female writer could encounter, she became unsure of herself for the first time at the age of 13, when her well-intentioned aunt Hazel conveyed the realities of segregation in five words: "Honey ... Negroes can't be writers." Nevertheless, Butler persevered in her desire to publish a story, even asking her junior high school science teacher, Mr. Pfaff, to type the first manuscript she submitted to a science fiction magazine.

After graduating from John Muir High School in 1965, Butler worked during the day and attended Pasadena City College (PCC) at night. As a freshman at PCC, she won a college-wide short story contest, earning her first income ($15) as a writer. She also got the "germ of the idea" for what would become her best-selling novel, Kindred, when a young African American classmate involved in the Black Power Movement loudly criticized previous generations of African Americans for being subservient to whites. As she explained in later interviews, the young man's remarks instigated her to respond with a story that would give historical context to that shameful subservience so that it could be understood as silent but courageous survival. In 1968, Butler graduated from PCC with an associate of arts degree with a focus in History.

Rise to success

Even though Butler's mother wanted her to become a secretary with a steady income, Butler continued to work at a series of temporary jobs, preferring the kind of mindless work that would allow her to get up at two or three in the morning to write. Success continued to elude her, as an absence of useful criticism led her to style her stories after the white-and-male-dominated science fiction she had grown up reading. She enrolled at California State University, Los Angeles, but then switched to taking writing courses through UCLA Extension.

During the Open Door Workshop of the Screenwriters' Guild of America, West, a program designed to mentor minority writers, her writing impressed one of the teachers, noted science-fiction writer Harlan Ellison. He encouraged her to attend the six-week Clarion Science Fiction Writers Workshop in Clarion, Pennsylvania. There, Butler met the writer and later longtime friend Samuel R. Delany. She also sold her first stories: "Child Finder" to Ellison, for his anthology The Last Dangerous Visions (still unpublished), and "Crossover" to Robin Scott Wilson, the director of Clarion, who published it in the 1971 Clarion anthology.

For the next five years, Butler worked on the series of novels that later become known as the Patternist series: Patternmaster (1976), Mind of My Mind (1977), and Survivor (1978). In 1978, she was finally able to stop working at temporary jobs and live on her writing. She took a break from the Patternist series to research and write Kindred (1979), and then finished the series with Wild Seed (1980) and Clay's Ark (1984).

Butler's rise to prominence began in 1984 when "Speech Sounds" won the Hugo Award for Short Story and, a year later, Bloodchild won the Hugo Award, the Locus Award, and the Science Fiction Chronicle Reader Award for Best Novelette. In the meantime, Butler traveled to the Amazon rainforest and the Andes to do research for what would become the Xenogenesis trilogy: Dawn (1987), Adulthood Rites (1988), and Imago (1989). These stories were republished in 2000 as the collection Lilith's Brood.

During the 1990s, Butler worked on the novels that solidified her fame as a writer: Parable of the Sower (1993) and Parable of the Talents (1998). In 1995, she became the first science-fiction writer to be awarded a John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation fellowship, an award that came with a prize of $295,000.

In 1999, after her mother's death, Butler moved to Lake Forest Park, Washington. The Parable of the Talents had won the Science Fiction Writers of America's Nebula Award for Best Science Novel and she had plans for four more Parable novels: Parable of the Trickster, Parable of the Teacher, Parable of Chaos, and Parable of Clay. However, after several failed attempts to begin The Parable of the Trickster, she decided to stop work in the series. In later interviews, Butler explained that the research and writing of the Parable novels had overwhelmed and depressed her, so she had shifted to composing something "lightweight" and "fun" instead. This became her last book, the science-fiction vampire novel Fledgling (2005).

Writing career

Early stories, Patternist series, and Kindred: 1971–1984

Butler's first work published was Crossover in the 1971 Clarion Workshop anthology. She also sold the short story Childfinder to Harlan Ellison for the anthology The Last Dangerous Visions. "I thought I was on my way as a writer," Butler recalled in her short fiction collection Bloodchild and Other Stories. "In fact, I had five more years of rejection slips and horrible little jobs ahead of me before I sold another word."

Starting in 1974, Butler worked on a series of novels that would later be collected as the Patternist series, which depicts the transformation of humanity into three genetic groups: the dominant Patternists, humans who have been bred with heightened telepathic powers and are bound to the Patternmaster via a psionic chain; their enemies the Clayarks, disease-mutated animal-like superhumans; and the Mutes, ordinary humans bonded to the Patternists.

The first novel, Patternmaster (1976), eventually became the last installment in the series' internal chronology. Set in the distant future, it tells of the coming-of-age of Teray, a young Patternist who fights for position within Patternist society and eventually for the role of Patternmaster.

Next came Mind of My Mind (1977), a prequel to Patternmaster set in the twentieth century. The story follows the development of Mary, the creator of the psionic chain and the first Patternmaster to bind all Patternists, and her inevitable struggle for power with her father Doro, a parapsychological vampire who seeks to retain control over the psionic children he has bred over the centuries.

The third book of the series, Survivor, was published in 1978. The titular survivor is Alanna, the adopted child of the Missionaries, fundamentalist Christians who have traveled to another planet to escape Patternist control and Clayark infection. Captured by a local tribe called the Tehkohn, Alanna learns their language and adopts their customs, knowledge which she then uses to help the Missionaries avoid bondage and assimilation into a rival tribe that opposes the Tehkohn.

After Survivor, Butler took a break from the Patternist series to write what would become her best-selling novel, Kindred (1979) as well as the short story "Near of Kin" (1979). In Kindred, Dana, an African American woman, is transported from 1976 Los Angeles to early nineteenth century Maryland. She meets her ancestors: Rufus, a white slave holder, and Alice, a black freewoman forced into slavery later in life. In "Near of Kin" the protagonist discovers a taboo relationship in her family as she goes through her mother's things after her death.

In 1980, Butler published the fourth book of the Patternist series, Wild Seed, whose narrative became the series' origin story. Set in Africa and America during the seventeenth century, Wild Seed traces the struggle between the four-thousand-year-old parapsychological vampire Doro and his "wild" child and bride, the three-hundred-year-old shapeshifter and healer Anyanwu. Doro, who has bred psionic children for centuries, deceives Anyanwu into becoming one of his breeders, but she eventually escapes and uses her gifts to create communities that rival Doro's. When Doro finally tracks her down, Anyanwu, tired by decades of escaping or fighting Doro, decides to commit suicide, forcing him to admit his need for her.

In 1983, Butler published "Speech Sounds," a story set in a post-apocalyptic Los Angeles where a pandemic has caused most humans to lose their ability to read, speak, or write. For many, this impairment is accompanied by uncontrollable feelings of jealousy, resentment, and rage. "Speech Sounds" received the 1984 Hugo Award for Best Short Story.

In 1984, Butler released the last book of the Patternmaster series, Clay's Ark. Set in the Mojave Desert, it focuses on a colony of humans infected by an extraterrestrial microorganism brought to Earth by the one surviving astronaut of the spaceship Clay's Ark. As the microorganism compels them to spread it, they kidnap ordinary people to infect them and, in the case of women, give birth to the mutant, sphinx-like children who will be the first members of the Clayark race.

Bloodchild and the Xenogenesis trilogy: 1984–1989

Butler followed Clay's Ark with the critically acclaimed short story "Bloodchild" (1984). Set on an alien planet, it depicts the complex relationship between human refugees and the insect-like aliens who keep them in a preserve to protect them, but also to use them as hosts for breeding their young. Sometimes called Butler's "pregnant man story," "Bloodchild" won the Nebula, Hugo, and Locus Awards, and the Science Fiction Chronicle Reader Award.

Three years later, Butler published Dawn, the first installment of what would become known as the Xenogenesis trilogy. The series examines the theme of alienation by creating situations in which humans are forced to coexist with other species to survive and extends Butler's recurring exploration of genetically-altered, hybrid individuals and communities. In Dawn, protagonist Lilith Iyapo finds herself in a spaceship after surviving a nuclear apocalypse that destroys Earth. Saved by the Oankali aliens, the human survivors must combine their DNA with an ooloi, the Oankali's third sex, in order to create a new race that eliminates a self-destructive flaw in humans—their aggressive hierarchical tendencies. Butler followed Dawn with "The Evening and the Morning and the Night" (1987), a story about how certain female sufferers of "Duryea-Gode Disease," a genetic disorder which causes dissociative states, obsessive self-mutilation, and violent psychosis, are able to control others afflicted with the disease.

Adulthood Rites (1988) and Imago (1989) the second and the third books in the Xenogenesis trilogy, focus on the predatory and prideful tendencies that affect human evolution, as humans now revolt against Lilith's Oankali-engineered progeny. Set thirty years after humanity's return to Earth, Adulthood Rites centers on the kidnapping of Lilith's part-human, part alien child, Akin, by a human-only group who are against the Oankali. Akin learns about both aspects of his identity through his life with the humans as well as the Akjai. The Oankali-only group becomes their mediator, and ultimately creates a human-only colony in Mars. In Imago, the Oankali create a third species more powerful than themselves: the shape-shifting healer Jodahs, a human-Oankali ooloi who must find suitable human male and female mates to survive its metamorphosis and finds them in the most unexpected of places, in a village of renegade humans.

The Parable series: 1993–1998

In the mid-1990s, Butler published two novels later designated as the Parable (or Earthseed) series. The books depict the struggle of the Earthseed community to survive the socioeconomic and political collapse of twenty-first century America due to poor environmental stewardship, corporate greed, and the growing gap between the wealthy and the poor. The books propose alternate philosophical views and religious interventions as solutions to such dilemmas.

The first book in the series, Parable of the Sower (1993), features a fifteen-year-old protagonist named Lauren Oya Olamina, and is set in a dystopian California in the 2020s. Lauren, who suffers from a syndrome causing her to literally feel any physical pain she witnesses, decides to escape the corruption and corporatization of her community of Robledo. She forms a new belief system, Earthseed, in order to prepare for the future of the human race on another planet. Recruiting members of varying social backgrounds, Lauren relocates her new group to Northern California, naming her new community "Earthseed".

Her 1998 follow-up novel, Parable of the Talents, is set sometime after Lauren's death and is told through the excerpts of Lauren's journals as framed by the commentary of her estranged daughter, Larkin. It details the takeover of Earthseed by right-wing fundamentalist Christians, Lauren's attempts to survive their religious "re-education", and the final triumph of Earthseed as a community and a doctrine.

In between her Earthseed novels, Butler published the collection Bloodchild and Other Stories (1995), which includes the short stories "Bloodchild", "The Evening and the Morning and the Night", "Near of Kin", "Speech Sounds", and "Crossover", as well as the non-fiction pieces "Positive Obsession" and "Furor Scribendi".

Late stories and Fledgling: 2003–2005

After several years of suffering from writer's block, Butler published the short stories "Amnesty" (2003) and "The Book of Martha" (2003), and her second standalone novel, Fledgling (2005). Both short stories focus on how impossible conditions force an ordinary woman to make a distressing choice. In "Amnesty", an alien abductee recounts her painful abuse at the hand of the unwitting aliens, and upon her release, by humans, and explains why she chose to work as a translator for the aliens now that the Earth's economy is in a deep depression. In "The Book of Martha", God asks a middle-aged African American novelist to make one important change to fix humanity's destructive ways. Martha's choice—to make humans have vivid and satisfying dreams—means that she will no longer be able to do what she loves, writing fiction. These two stories were added to the 2005 edition of Bloodchild and Other Stories.

Butler's last publication during her lifetime was Fledgling, a novel exploring the culture of a vampire community living in mutualistic symbiosis with humans. Set on the West Coast, it tells of the coming-of-age of a young female hybrid vampire whose species is called Ina. The only survivor of a vicious attack on her families that left her an amnesiac, she must seek justice for her dead, build a new family, and relearn how to be Ina.

Butler bequeathed her papers including manuscripts, correspondence, school papers, notebooks, and photographs to the Huntington Library.

Themes

The critique of present-day hierarchies

In multiple interviews and essays, Butler explained her view of humanity as inherently flawed by an innate tendency towards hierarchical thinking which leads to intolerance, violence and, if not checked, the ultimate destruction of our species.

"Simple peck-order bullying", she wrote in her essay "A World without Racism," "is only the beginning of the kind of hierarchical behavior that can lead to racism, sexism, ethnocentrism, classism, and all the other 'isms' that cause so much suffering in the world." Her stories, then, often replay humanity's domination of the weak by the strong as a type of parasitism. These superior beings, whether aliens, vampires, superhuman, or a slave masters, find themselves defied by a protagonist who embodies difference, diversity, and change, so that, as John R. Pfeiffer notes "[i]n one sense [Butler's] fables are trials of solutions to the self-destructive condition in which she finds mankind."

The remaking of the human

In his essay on the sociobiological backgrounds of Butler's Xenogenesis trilogy, J. Adam Johns describes how Butler's narratives counteract the death drive behind the hierarchical impulse with an innate love of life (biophilia), particularly different, strange life. Specifically, Butler's stories feature gene manipulation, interbreeding, miscegenation, symbiosis, mutation, alien contact, non-consensual sex, contamination, and other forms of hybridity as the means to correct the sociobiological causes of hierarchical violence. As De Witt Douglas Kilgore and Ranu Samantrai note, "[i]n [Butler's] narratives the undoing of the human body is both literal and metaphorical, for it signifies the profound changes necessary to shape a world not organized by hierarchical violence." The evolutionary maturity achieved by the bioengineered hybrid protagonist at the end of the story, then, signals the possible evolution of the dominant community in terms of tolerance, acceptance of diversity, and a desire to wield power responsibly.

The survivor as hero

Butler's protagonists are disenfranchised individuals who endure, compromise, and embrace radical change in order to survive. As De Witt Douglas Kilgore and Ranu Samantrai note, her stories focus on minority characters whose historical background makes them already intimate with brutal violation and exploitation, and therefore the need to compromise to survive. Even when endowed with extra abilities, these characters are forced to experience unprecedented physical, mental, and emotional distress and exclusion to ensure a minimal degree of agency and to prevent humanity from achieving self-destruction. In many stories, their acts of courage become acts of understanding, and in some cases, love, as they reach a crucial compromise with those in power. Ultimately, Butler's focus on disenfranchised characters serves to illustrate both the historical exploitation of minorities and how the resolve of one such exploited individual may bring on critical change.

The creation of alternative communities

Butler's stories feature mixed communities founded by African protagonists and populated by diverse, if similar-minded individuals. Members may be humans of African, European, or Asian descent, extraterrestrial (such as the N'Tlic in "Bloodchild"), from a different species (such as the vampiric Ina in Fledgling), and cross-species (such as the human-Oankali Akin and Jodahs in the Xenogenesis trilogy). In some stories, the community's hybridity results in a flexible view of sexuality and gender (for instance, the polyamorous extended families in Fledgling). Thus, Butler creates bonds between groups that are generally considered to be separate and unrelated, and suggests hybridity as "the potential root of good family and blessed community life."

Relationship to Afrofuturism

Butler's work has been associated with the genre of Afrofuturism, a term coined by Mark Dery to describe "speculative fiction that treats African-American themes and addresses African-American concerns in the context of 20th-century technoculture." Some critics, however, have noted that while Butler's protagonists are of African descent, the communities they create are multi-ethnic and, sometimes, multi-species. As De Witt Douglas Kilgore and Ranu Samantrai explain in their 2010 memorial to Butler, while Butler does offer "an afro-centric sensibility at the core of narratives," her "insistence on hybridity beyond the point of discomfort" exceeds the tenets of both black cultural nationalism and of "white-dominated" liberal pluralism.

Influence

In interviews with Charles Rowell and Randall Kenan, Butler credited the struggles of her working-class mother as an important influence on her writing. Because Butler's mother received little formal education herself, she made sure that young Butler was given the opportunity to learn by bringing her reading materials that her white employers threw away, from magazines to advanced books. She also encouraged Butler to write. She bought her daughter her first typewriter when she was ten years old, and, seeing her hard at work on a story, casually remarked that maybe one day she could become a writer, causing Butler to realize that it was possible to make a living as an author. A decade later, Mrs. Butler would pay more than a month's rent to have an agent review her daughter's work. She also provided Butler with the money she had been saving for dental work to pay for Butler's scholarship so she could attend the Clarion Science Fiction Writers Workshop, where Butler sold her first two stories.

A second person to play an influential role in Butler's work was American writer Harlan Ellison. As a teacher at the Open Door Workshop of the Screen Writers Guild of America, he gave Butler her first honest and constructive criticism on her writing after years of lukewarm responses from composition teachers and baffling rejections from publishers. Impressed by her work, Ellison suggested she attend the Clarion Science Fiction Writers Workshop, and even contributed $100 towards her application fee. As the years passed, Ellison's mentorship became a close friendship.

Point of view

Butler began reading science fiction at a young age, but quickly became disenchanted by the genre's unimaginative portrayal of ethnicity and class as well as by its lack of noteworthy female protagonists. She then set to correct those gaps by, as De Witt Douglas Kilgore and Ranu Samantrai point out, "choosing to write self-consciously as an African-American woman marked by a particular history" —what Butler termed as "writing myself in". Butler's stories, therefore, are usually written from the perspective of a marginalized black woman whose difference from the dominant agents increases her potential for reconfiguring the future of her society.

Audience

Publishers and critics have labelled Butler's work as science fiction. While Butler enjoyed the genre deeply, calling it "potentially the freest genre in existence", she resisted being branded a genre writer. Many critics have pointed out that her narratives have drawn attention of people from varied ethnic and cultural backgrounds. She claimed to have three loyal audiences: black readers, science-fiction fans, and feminists.

Interviews

Charlie Rose interviewed Octavia Butler in 2000 soon after the award of a MacArthur Fellowship. The highlights are probing questions that arise out of Butler's personal life narrative and her interest in becoming not only a writer, but a writer of science fiction. Rose asked, "What then is central to what you want to say about race?" Butler's response was, "Do I want to say something central about race? Aside from, 'Hey we're here!'?" This points to an essential claim for Butler that the world of science fiction is a world of possibilities, and although race is an innate element, it is embedded in the narrative, not forced upon it.

In an interview by Randall Kenan, Octavia E. Butler discusses how her life experiences as a child shaped most of her thinking. As a writer, Butler was able to use her writing as a vehicle to critique history under the lenses of feminism. In the interview, she discusses the research that had to be done in order to write her bestselling novel, Kindred. Most of it is based on visiting libraries as well as historic landmarks with respect to what she is investigating. Butler admits that she writes science fiction because she does not want her work to be labeled or used as a marketing tool. She wants the readers to be genuinely interested in her work and the story she provides, but at the same time she fears that people will not read her work because of the "science fiction" label that they have.

Adaptations

Parable of the Sower was adapted as Parable of the Sower: The Concert Version, a work-in-progress opera written by American folk/blues musician Toshi Reagon in collaboration with her mother, singer and composer Bernice Johnson Reagon. The adaptation's libretto and musical score combine African-American spirituals, soul, rock and roll, and folk music into rounds to be performed by singers sitting in a circle. It was performed as part of The Public Theater's 2015 Under the Radar Festival in New York City.

Awards and honors

Winner:

2012: Solstice Award

2010: Inducted by the Science Fiction Hall of Fame

2005: Langston Hughes Medal of The City College

2000: Lifetime Achievement Award in Writing from the PEN American Center

1999: Nebula Award for Best Novel – Parable of the Talents

1995: John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation "Genius" Grant

1988: Science Fiction Chronicle Award for Best Novelette – "The Evening and the Morning and the Night"

1985: Locus Award for Best Novelette – "Bloodchild"

1985: Hugo Award for Best Novelette – "Bloodchild"

1985: Science Fiction Chronicle Award for Best Novelette – "Bloodchild"

1984: Nebula Award for Best Novelette – "Bloodchild"

1984: Hugo Award for Best Short Story – "Speech Sounds"

1980: Creative Arts Award, L.A. YWCA

Nominated:

1994: Nebula Award for Best Novel – Parable of the Sower

1987: Nebula Award for Best Novelette – "The Evening and the Morning and the Night"

1967: Fifth Place, Writer's Digest Short Story Contest

Critical reception

Most critics praise Butler on her unflinching exposition of human flaws, which she depicts with striking realism. The New York Times regarded her novels as "evocative" if "often troubling" explorations of "far-reaching issues of race, sex, power". The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction called her examination of humanity "clear-headed and brutally unsentimental" and Village Voice's Dorothy Allison described her as "writing the most detailed social criticism" where "the hard edge of cruelty, violence, and domination is described in stark detail." Locus regarded her as "one of those authors who pay serious attention to the way human beings actually work together and against each other, and she does so with extraordinary plausibility." Houston Post ranked her "among the best SF writers, blessed with a mind capable of conceiving complicated futuristic situations that shed considerable light on our current affairs."

Scholars, on the other hand, focus on Butler's choice to write from the point of view of marginal characters and communities and thus "expanded SF to reflect the experiences and expertise of the disenfranchised." While surveying Butler's novels, critic Burton Raffel noted how race and gender influence her writing: "I do not think any of these eight books could have been written by a man, as they most emphatically were not, nor, with the single exception of her first book, Pattern-Master (1976), are likely to have been written, as they most emphatically were, by anyone but an African American." Robert Crossley commended how Butler's "feminist aesthetic" works to expose sexual, racial, and cultural chauvinisms because it is "enriched by a historical consciousness that shapes the depiction of enslavement both in the real past and in imaginary pasts and futures."

Butler has been praised widely for her spare yet vivid style, with Washington Post Book World calling her craftsmanship "superb". Burton Raffel regards her prose as "carefully, expertly crafted" and "crystalline, at its best, sensuous, sensitive, exact not in the least directed at calling attention to itself."

Death

During her last years, Butler struggled with writer's block and depression, partly caused by the side effects of medication for her high blood pressure. She continued writing and taught at Clarion's Science Fiction Writers' Workshop regularly. In 2005, she was inducted into Chicago State University's International Black Writers Hall of Fame.

Butler died outside of her home in Lake Forest Park, Washington, on February 24, 2006, aged 58. Contemporary news accounts were inconsistent as to the cause of her death, with some reporting that she suffered a fatal stroke, while others indicated that she died of head injuries after falling and striking her head on her walkway. Another suggestion, backed by Locus magazine, is that a stroke caused the fall and hence the head injuries. After her death, the Octavia E. Butler Memorial Scholarship was established by the Carl Brandon Society to provide support to students of color to attend the Clarion West Writers Workshop and Clarion Writers' Workshop, descendants of the original Clarion Science Fiction Writers' Workshop where Butler had gotten her start 35 years before.

Scholarship fund

The Octavia E. Butler Memorial Scholarship was established in Butler's memory in 2006 by the Carl Brandon Society. Its goal is to provide an annual scholarship to enable writers of color to attend the Clarion West Writers Workshop and Clarion Writers' Workshop, descendants of the original Clarion Science Fiction Writers' Workshop in Clarion, Pennsylvania, where Butler got her start. The first scholarships were awarded in 2007.

Selected works

Series

Patternist series

Patternmaster (Doubleday 1976; Avon 1979; Warner 1995)

Mind of My Mind (Doubleday 1977; Warner 1994)

Survivor (Doubleday 1978)

Wild Seed (Doubleday 1980; Warner 1988, 2001)

Clay's Ark (St. Martin's Press 1984; Ace Books 1985; Warner 1996)

Seed to Harvest (Grand Central Publishing 2007; omnibus excluding Survivor)

Xenogenesis series

Dawn (Warner 1987, 1989, 1997)

Adulthood Rites (Warner 1988, 1977)

Imago (Warner 1989, 1997)

Xenogenesis (Guild America Books 1989; omnibus)

Lilith's Brood (Warner 2000; omnibus)

Parable series (also referred to as the Earthseed series)

Parable of the Sower (Four Walls, Eight Windows 1993; Women's Press 1995; Warner 1995, 2000).

Parable of the Talents (Seven Stories Press 1998; Quality Paperback Book Club 1999; Women's Press 2000, 2001; Warner 2000, 2001)

Standalone novels

Kindred (Doubleday 1979; Beacon Press 1988, 2004).

Fledgling (Seven Stories Press 2005; Grand Central Publishing 2007).

Short story collections

Bloodchild and Other Stories (Four Walls, Eight Windows, 1995; Seven Stories Press, 1996, 2005; second edition includes "Amnesty" and "The Book of Martha").

Unexpected Stories (2014, includes "A Necessary Being" and "Childfinder")

Essays and speeches

"Birth of a Writer." Essence 20 (May 1989): 74+. Reprinted as "Positive Obsession" in Bloodchild and Other Stories.

"Free Libraries: Are They Becoming Extinct?" Omni 15.10 (Aug. 1993): 4.

"Devil Girl from Mars: Why I Write Science Fiction." Media in Transition. MIT 19 February 1998. Transcript 4 October 1998.

""Brave New Worlds: A Few Rules for Predicting the Future." Essence 31.1 (May 2000): 164+.

"A World without Racism." NPR Weekend Edition Saturday. 1 September 2001.

"Eye Witness: "Butler's Aha! Moment." O: The Oprah Magazine 3.5 (May 2002): 79–80.

Wikipedia

[televinita]

Digging into all the nooks and crannies to clean stuff out before I get married, opened the lower half of a cabinet I haven’t opened in 2 years because I’ve had a storage container + heavy stacks of books blocking it. I COULD simply take a photo...OR I could list all the items of interest.

(One way LJ is superior to Tumblr is that instead of “keep reading” you could be clicking text inside these parentheses that says 'obviously we’re not going to do it the short way’)

3 boxes of beads: one of which is a professional clear divider-style box, one of which is a Lisa Frank box featuring the brown horse (and including most of the original Lisa Frank beads it came with), and one of which is a totally 90s pink Clik Cooler personalized with my name

Three 3-ring binders full of printed-off fanfic

A 3-ring binder stuffed full of (empty) plastic sheet protectors, because I found it that way at Goodwill for $3 and I am ABSOLUTELY NEVER gonna let that gold mine go, even if I haven’t yet figured out what preciousness I’m going to preserve in those sheets.

More 3-ring binders: childhood artwork, 2 that are...empty??, my pop-culture-magazine-clippings scrapbook

A BUNCH of old notebooks from school that are kept half because of their nice neat notes and half because they all still have empty pages remaining and you can always use notebook pages

15-inch-high stack of my beloved late 90s/early 2000s teen magazines (and a few other 90s magazines)

Four planners from high school/college. They are historical treasure troves; like even if I didn’t have journals, these are such a good record of my life.

See also: the hip-hop-happenin’ mini calendar loaded with important events from the year I graduated high school/started college.

Old VHS tapes of stuff I recorded off TV that I believe one day I will be able to watch again.

Five DVDs and 5 CDs I forgot I had. Also, cool, that’s where Zoo Tycoon went.

A palm tree top from the 1990s Barbie Hawaiian Luau set. The box with the rest of it is deep in the attic.

A 3-D wall hanging

Bananagrams

Unopened package of CD-Rs (20)

Wildlife Adventure box of fact cards, #1 source of all my wild animal knowledge age 6-8

3 boxes of floppy disks (which all...HAD data on them when I stored them. Probably 100% corrupted at this point even if I had a floppy drive installed. I want to believe that I also backed their info up on CD-RWs but I can’t be sure of that.)

The original specially designed Amazon box that Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came in.

A hilariously ironic book about how to declutter.

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

Lisa Frank Mini Notepads

1990s

Found on Ebay, user garsamw0

Is that a cheetah or a leopard?? I even have cheetah/leopard print in one of my tattoos and I still don't know lol. I don't actually like this print, I was just a drunk y2k emo girl who didn't think out her tattoos lol. The little critter on this notepad is adorable though!

[schlock-luster-video]

Today in screwball comedy / superhero movie history: on June 23, 2000 Mystery Men debuted in Italy.

Here's some Janeane Garofalo art!

[banjosbourbonbarrelsandbluegrass]

New collection guides on ExploreUK!

What does feminism, horse racing, veterans affairs, folk art, and the Lexington Philharmonic Orchestra have in common? Well, they are all topics documented in the newest batch of collection guides that have been added to ExploreUK. Check out the full list below.

 P.S. We’ll be announcing newly digitized content next week.

New Collection Guides

Human/Economic Appalachian Development Corporation (HEAD) records, 2014ms0102

The Human/Economic Development Corporation (HEAD) records (1954-1985, undated; 64.3 cubic feet; 54 boxes and 3 flat boxes) comprises administrative, financial, project plans and reports documenting the activities of HEAD and its efforts to assist community economic development in the Appalachian region.

Leslie Clark films, 2015av014

The Leslie Clark films (dated 1946-1949; 0.2 cubic feet; 3 reels, 1 digital file) consists of three rolls of 8mm color and black and white silent moving image film, documenting life on the University of Kentucky campus and in the city of Lexington, Kentucky.

National Society for Arts and Letters records, 2015ms046

The National Society of Arts and Letters records (dated 1949-2011, undated; 4.35 cubic feet; 4 record cartons, 1 document box) comprise conference and competition programs for the annual NSAL meeting, award fund financial reports, administrative manuals for regional chapters, and national membership directories and newsletters that document the Society's mission to support students of the performing, literary, and visual arts.

John A. Joyce papers, 2015ms092

The John Alexander Joyce papers (dated 1900, undated; 0.23 cubic feet; 1 box) comprise a collection of poetry, a handwritten poem, a sketch book, and two photographs that document John Alexander Joyce, Civil War poetry, and the Civil War in Kentucky.

Collins family papers, 2016ms026

The Collins family papers (1781-1968, 1.68 cubic feet, 5 boxes) primarily include Lewis Collins' financial documents and correspondence. The collection also includes documents such as leases, wills, ledger sheets, genealogy notes, newspaper clippings, and obituaries of other Collins family members.

James W. Holsinger papers, 2017ms029

The James W. Holsinger, Jr. papers (dated 1928-1994, undated; 15 cubic feet; 15 boxes) primarily comprises reports, transcripts of congressional hearings, program updates, organizational resources, and office publications that document the operations of the US Department of Veterans Affairs from 1978-1994.

Headley, Garr, Bassett, Lee papers, 2017ms044

The Headley, Garr, Bassett, Lee papers (1810-2004, undated; 2.01 cubic feet; 18 boxes, 3 items) consists of diaries, correspondence, ephemera, and photographs that document members of the Headley, Garr, Bassett, Lee, and Pettit families of Lexington and Central Kentucky.

John Bell Jones papers, 2017ua010

The John Bell Jones papers (dated 1880s-2017, bulk 1924-1946; 1.27 cubic feet; 4 boxes and 1 flat box) primarily comprise J.B. Jones' school work in; agriculture at the University of Kentucky, 1935-1939, Future Farmers of American-related items during the time he taught in high school, and biographical/genealogical information about Jones and his family.

The Kentucky Fair and Horse Show Programs Collection, 64m114 The Kentucky Fair and Horse Show Programs Collection, 64114 (dated 1899-1968; 1.13 cubic feet; 3 boxes) contain programs from fairs and horse shows throughout the state of Kentucky. The William H. P. Robertson manuscript, 65m21

The William H. P. Robertson manuscript (dated 1964; 0.8 cubic feet; 2 boxes) consists of an edited, unbound typescript draft of The History of Thoroughbred Racing in America.

The Boone County historical records, 65m187

The Boone County historical records (dated 1766-1963; 0.45 cubic feet; 1 box) primarily contains booklets and typescripts concerning the early history and early residents of Boone County, Kentucky. The Shackelford Genealogy Collection, 65m199

The Shackelford Genealogy Collection (dated 1945-1957; 0.23 cubic feet; 1 box) primarily consists of copies of the Shackelford Clan Magazine. The magazine is an extensive tracing of the family from 1658 until 1957.

The Barkley Statue Advisory Committee records, 66m15

The Barkley Statue Advisory Committee records (dated 1960-1965, undated; 0.63 cubic feet; 2 boxes) contain correspondence, programs, audiotapes, photographs, and a marble sample documenting the commission of a statue to memorialize former Vice President Alben William Barkley, a native of Kentucky.

The Joe Downing exhibition records, 69m26

The Joe Downing exhibition records (dated 1957-1964, undated; 0.45 cubic feet; 1 box) contains correspondence, photographs, pamphlets, invitations, and a broadside relating to a showing of Downing's artwork at Kentucky State College in 1964.

Burton Milward Lexington Leader editorial scrapbooks, 69m34

Burton Milward Lexington Leader editorial scrapbooks (dated 1946-1966; 2.1 cubic feet; 6 boxes) consists of scrapbooks containing newspaper editorials written by Burton Milward from 1946 until 1966.

The Kentucky women's and feminist collection, 94m4

The Kentucky women's and feminist collection (dated 1970-1988, undated; 0.9 cubic feet; 2 document boxes) primarily comprises fliers, clippings, newsletters, and reports that document women's issues and feminist organizations in Kentucky in the 1970s and 1980s.

The Lexington lesbian and gay community collection, 95m2

The Lexington lesbian and gay community collection (dated 1988-1997, undated; 1.01 cubic feet; 1 document box, 2 poster boxes) primarily comprises gay rights advocacy brochures, fliers, and posters by student and community organizations that reflect aspects of lesbian and gay life in Lexington, Kentucky during the late 1980s and the 1990s.

The Charles William Headley diaries, 1997ms294

The Charles William Headley diaries (dated 1861-1918; 2 cubic feet; 2 boxes) primarily consist of 17 diaries, which document the life of horse breeder Charles William Headley and the operation of his farm, Allandale, near Harrodsburg, Kentucky.

The Dr. Andrew Todd family papers, 1997ms470

The Dr. Andrew Todd family papers (dated 1789-1862; 0.23 cubic feet; 1 box, 1 folder) consists of the correspondence, legal documents, and receipts of the family centered on Paris, Kentucky. The papers document family land disputes in Kentucky as well as other states, medicine in the late eighteenth century, religion, shipping and shipwrecks, and slaves and slavery in Kentucky.

The Aaron Burr letter to Rev. John Gano, 2006ms047

The Aaron Burr letter to Rev. John Gano (dated 1793-1802, undated; 0.1 cubic feet; 1 folder) consists of a one page letter from Burr to Gano, a small lithographic portrait of Burr in 1802 when he was Vice President of the United States, and a typescript of the letter.

The Michael Bernard Gratz horse and cattle pedigree book, 2007ms088

The Michael Bernard Gratz horse and cattle pedigree book (dated 1838-1937; 0.1 cubic feet; 1 folder) contains entries of horses and cattle owned or bred by Michael Bernard Gratz at Canewood, his farm near Spring Station in Woodford County, Kentucky.

The Henry Clay plant mining ledger, 2009ms178

The Henry Clay plant mining ledger (dated 1946-1947; 0.88 cubic feet; 1 item) consists of one 792-page ledger documenting the operation of the Henry Clay coal mine in Pike County, Kentucky.

The Joseph L. Massie papers, 2010ms050

The Joseph L. Massie papers (dated 1907-1996, undated; 0.9 cubic feet; 2 boxes) consist of poetry, monograph research notes, newspaper clippings, and a notebook that document the writings of James L. Massie and William K. Massie.

The Lucy Dupuy Craig Woolfolk diaries, 2012ms351

The Lucy Dupuy Craig Woolfolk diaries (dated 1863-1864; 0.1 cubic feet; 3 folders) consists of two diaries documenting the daily activities and observations of Woolfolk, a resident of Woodford county, Kentucky. The collection includes a typed transcript of the diary entries. Since the diaries have torn pages and loose boards and need to be handled carefully, researchers may be advised to consult the transcripts.

The George Zack papers, 2012ms381

The George Zack papers (dated 1954-2012, undated; 38.05 cubic feet; 15 record cartons, 5 shoe boxes, 1 oversize box, 1 oversize folder, 367 reel-to-reel audiotapes) comprise correspondence, administrative files, reel-to-reel audiotapes of orchestral performances, and concert programs that reflect the violist's decades of leadership as an acclaimed conductor, primarily with Kentucky's Lexington Philharmonic Orchestra (LPO) and Ohio's Warren Chamber Orchestra (WCO).

The Dr. David William Barnett diary, 2013ms0101

The Dr. David William Barnett diary (dated 1851-1857; 0.02 cubic feet; 1 folder) records Barnett's personal and local events in the area of Germantown, Kentucky, during the 1850s.

The James Taylor papers, 2013ms0104

The James Taylor papers (dated 1811-1812; 0.1 cubic feet; 1 folder) includes receipts for military deserters during the War of 1812 in Kentucky. These rewards were signed several times by Colonel James Taylor, the paymaster of the Northwestern Navy Barracks.

The Lexington Central Woman's Christian Temperance Union ledger, 2013ms0172

The Lexington Central Woman's Christian Temperance Union ledger (dated 1928-1932; 0.3 cubic feet; 1 folder) include the reports of the local Lexington chapter of the larger, national organization.

The Ernest C. Doll Air Force diary, 2013ms0409

The Ernest C. Doll Air Force diary (dated 1947-1950; 0.1 cubic foot; 1 folder) describes the career of Sergeant Doll from the time of his discharge from the US Naval Reserves to his career in the US Air Force.

The Marketing Appalachia's Traditional Community Handcrafts (MATCH) records, 2014ms0103

The Marketing Appalachia's Traditional Community Handcrafts (MATCH) records (dated 1900-1987, bulk 1970-1987; 63.3 cubic feet; 74 boxes, 2 case folders) comprises administrative, financial, grants and loans, projects, and reports documenting the activities of MATCH and its efforts to promote development in the region through crafts and folk art.

The Anne MacKinnon coal research files, 2016ms008

The Anne MacKinnon coal research files (dated 1866-1977, undated; 3.23 cubic feet; 1 record carton, 11 shoe boxes, 1 oversize box, 1 oversize folder) comprise photographs, research notes, grey literature, and reports that document the former Kentucky journalist's research for an unpublished book on coal and its impact on Appalachia and Kentucky communities.

The Robert Straus Escape from Custody research files, 2016ms011

The Robert Straus Escape from Custody research files (dated 1943-1975, undated; 0.75 cubic feet; 4 boxes) primarily consist of correspondence between Robert Straus and Elliott Stone, the subject of Escape from Custody. (Digital copies of these files are coming soon!)

The Ambrose Seaton family papers, 2016ms033

The Ambrose Seaton family papers (dated 1787-1946, undated; 0.9 cubic feet; 2 boxes) consists of legal and financial documents, business materials, correspondence, newspaper clippings, and two daguerreotypes that document the Seaton family in Amherst, New Hampshire, and across the state of Kentucky from the late eighteenth to the mid twentieth century.

The F. J. Floyd Jr. photographs, 2017av011

The F. J. Floyd Jr. photographs (dated 1931; 0.1 cubic feet, 10 items) consists of three scrapbook pages containing eight black and white photographs of the construction of the Lucy Jefferson Lewis Memorial Bridge in Smithland, Kentucky taken in 1931 by F. J. Lloyd, Jr., the engineer in charge of construction.

The Emanuel G. Weiss papers, 2017ms071

The Emanuel G. Weiss papers (dated 1944-1970; 1.2 cubic feet; 2 boxes) comprise memoranda, correspondence, notes, draft opinions, printed opinions, bound volumes, and photographs that document Weiss's duties as a law clerk for Stanley Forman Reed, Associate Justice on the Supreme Court of the United States, during the October 1945 term.

 Revised Collection Guides (major revisions and additions)

Victor Howard collection on Civil Rights and Church-State, 2009ms014   

Kentuckians for the Commonwealth records, 2010ms005

Jewell family papers, 2011ms063          

May Ringo Thompson papers, 47m83    

Benjamin Forsythe Buckner papers, 48m39

Kentucky Patrons of Husbandry records, 66m10

Isaac Shelby papers, 68m105

Chauncey Hawley Griffith papers, 72m31

Ila Earle Fowler papers, 84m3

Robert W. Scott journals, 87m35

Bradley family papers, 87m64

Alice Todd Field diary, M-368

Thomas Henry Hines papers, 46m97

Kentucky Park-to-Park Committee reports, 54m16

Lindsay Family papers, 54m59

Cora Wilson Stewart papers, 58m25

Teagarden and Shryock account book, 63m148

Playreaders' scrapbook, 65m194

Kentucky Constitutional Revision Assembly records, 67m159

Catherine and Howard Evans papers, 72m15

John Adam Walters, Jr. papers, 2012ms606

Study of the Care of the Insane in Kentucky during the 1850s typescript, M-205

[lalainajanes]

Also from the lists! Prompt:  “This is the tenth time you’ve asked for a refill are you ok” AU

Napkin Dispenser Suprise

She tosses her notepad down, setting her hands on her hips and arching backwards in an attempt to alleviate some of the soreness that’s built up. She really shouldn’t have offered to cover Bonnie’s night shift. She works 8-4 answering phones, weekends at a high end boutique, and picks up every thing she can here at the diner. Her band’s been tossing around the possibility of a tour and Caroline’s determined to do her part to scrape together the money to fund it.

So what if it’s her twelfth working day in a row? Money was money.

Enzo’s cleaning out the bakery case, and if he knows what’s good for him he’d better not be throwing out any slightly old but still perfectly good cupcakes. He sets the chocolate ones aside under her pointed gaze and Caroline nods in satisfaction. “You okay?” he asks, probably in response to the truly gross sounds her spine is making. He was a good friend.

And he needed her to sing tomorrow.

She grabs one of the stools, rationalizing that it’s 11 PM at a place that specializes in breakfast and no one will ever know about her little unscheduled break. The place is mostly empty. There’s a young couple playing footsie a little farther down the counter, an older guy with a laptop and a notebook and a ridiculous number of pens set up in a table in the corner, and then the occupant of the booth in her along the back wall who’d just finished up his ninth cup of coffee.

Seriously. It just wasn’t healthy.

Casting a glance over her shoulder Caroline leans in, lowering her voice, “I think I need to cut the guy at table seven off.”

Caroline had been expecting incredulity and Enzo doesn’t disappoint. He crosses his arms and leans a hip on his side of the counter, enunciating slowly in condescending manner that has Caroline vowing revenge, “This is a diner, Gorgeous. Not a bar. We don’t cut people off.”

“Well we should. What if he OD’s on caffeine, huh? I’m sure that’s possible. Then it’s lawsuit city and we can’t afford that, Enzo.”

Enzo squints, clearly skeptical, “I’m not certain it’s possible.”

“It’s a stimulant, isn’t it? It must be possible to OD.”

“Is he twitchy? Talking too fast? Does he seem confused? Is he sweaty looking?”

Grudgingly, Caroline can admit he seems perfectly normal. He’s polite when she stops by, though he usually appears absorbed in his task. He’s been methodically shredding the napkins at his table, folding them into a steadily growing sculpture bolstered by sugar packets and tiny plastic creamer cups. Enzo reads it on her face easily, damn him. “What’s it you always say to me when I question your definition of a ‘slice’ of pie? Something about not judging, if I recall correctly. Perhaps you should take your own advice?”

He ducks back into the kitchen, the door swinging behind him, and Caroline allows herself to stick her make a face at his retreating back. Ugh, he was annoying. And she was from the south. Generous helpings of pie were how she was raised, damn it.

Swivelling, to check on her customer she finds him with his head bent low, intent on the mess on his table. She knows she should do her job and pour his coffee with a smile (she’d sized him up when he came in, was fairly certain he’d be a good tipper) and without commentary.

But she’s not going to. Caroline’s never been short of opinions and is rarely shy about sharing them. It’s a flaw but she figures it’s pretty ingrained at this point. She can play the sympathetic waitress, figure out what the guy’s problem was. It could be her good deed for the day.

With her mind made up Caroline strides briskly to the coffee pots she grabs one that’s half full and snags the platter of cupcakes for good measure. He glances up, a small smile curving his (very nice, she can’t help but note) lips. He blinks in surprise when she slides into the booth opposite him but he doesn’t object. She keeps the coffee on her side, “Listen, I’m not having anyone die a coffee related death on my watch. I’m so not good at managing guilt. Can I convince you to switch to decaf?”

She holds her breath, hopes he doesn’t immediately puff up in outrage (some men were douchebags like that. They seemed perfectly normal but went full psycho at the slightest hint of a challenge to their authority). She relaxes when he seems more amused than offended, “Afraid not. Can’t stand the stuff.”

Caroline nudges the cupcakes in his direction, “I figured. Have a cupcake then. On me. Well, kind of. They’re about a half hour away from having to be tossed and it would be a shame for them to go to waste.”

He shifts back grinning and setting his forearms on the table, “Are you trying to poison me? First decaf now nearly expired baked goods?”

“Only nearly expired according to the super strict health code. Normal people don’t eat all the cupcakes they bake in one day, do they?”

“I’m sure some do. If gluttony’s their deadly sin of choice.”

Caroline bites her tongue before she can make a comment about how there are certain days of the month where she’d probably kill someone for a good bar of dark chocolate. That was neither professional or something a stranger needed to know about her uterus. Instead she shrugs, “It’s not the worst one, is it? A glutton’s only hurting themselves.”

His head dips and he reaches for a cupcake. “Touché. Thank you, Jessica.”

It takes her a second to realize he’s talking to her. “Oh, it’s Caroline,” she tells him.

His brows furrow and he glances at her name tag. Caroline waves a hand, “There’s like ten nametags in the back. All the most popular girl’s names of the 1990’s. I was Amanda the last time I worked. It keeps the creeps at bay, keeps them from being able to track us down online.”

“I like Caroline better.”

Huh. She hadn’t expected to be charmed when she’d sat down. Caroline thought herself mostly immune to accents, she talked to Enzo all the time so the novelty had worn off. But this guy’s voice was kind of doing it for her.

Before she can think of a response he continues, “I’m Klaus. Niklaus, if you’d like to be formal or stalk me on social media. Last name Mikaelson. With a ‘k’.”

She finds herself laughing, “Careful, Klaus. That kinda sounds like an invitation.”

He’s taken a bite of cake, keeps his eyes on her face as he chews and swallows. It’s snowing outside so there’s no reason for Caroline to feel warm but she definitely does. Once his mouth is empty he speaks, the words doing nothing to help her temperature situation, “That’s because it was, love.”

“Wow,” Caroline blurts out. “I’ve been hit on by a lot of customers but that was actually pretty smooth.”

He seems pleased, tears off another piece of cupcake and lifts a brow in question, “Does that mean I’ve a chance at success?”

Instead of answering Caroline busies herself with the coffee, strives to keep from letting her face give anything away. She might be blushing a little but hopefully he’ll chalk that up to work related exertion. “So why the coffee binge?” she prompts. “Work deadline? Personal life implosion?”

She’s shamelessly fishing and she wouldn’t blame him at all if he called her on it. There’s a knowing glint in his eye but he lets it slide, launching into a story about a commission he’d just finished that he absolutely loathes. Finding out he’s an artist makes her examine his sculpture more closely and she thinks she sees the beginnings of a horse.

Which, considering the raw materials, meant he was probably actually talented.

If he asks for her number she’ll give him the real one, Caroline decides. Until then there’s no reason she should be the only one sweating.

[thenaivereview]

Katherine Collins One Afternoon

About a year after U.S. politics ate my interest in comic books, I found myself sitting outside Vancouver Comic Arts Festival, studying a Ben Sears print. It had been the longest, shittiest winter in a hundred years and now I was in the sun, staring at a picture like a child.

I had decamped that morning from Seattle to Vancouver, which is both foreign to me and closer to my original home in Alaska. Trump had decamped to Saudi Arabia. Between the two, my constant IV drip of political news had dried up. My phone didn’t work that well in Canada, so I couldn’t even text anyone for a secondhand hit. The Asian stock markets wouldn’t re-open for another 24 hours. No information was coming in except the colorful details of the Ben Sears print in my hands.

Being in an unfamiliar place in new sandals gave me a feeling from childhood that I’d forgotten. There’s liking yourself, and there’s being all right with the world. As adults we try to do both those things and be reasonably happy. But sometimes when you’re a little kid you have this sensation of liking yourself in the world. Liking the places where you and the world touch.

So that’s where I was, with the sun warming my back and bright artwork in my eyes, when my boyfriend tapped my shoulder and said, “We have to go to this panel—not enough people are showing up!”

I hurried inside with him, out of the sunlight and into a small, dark auditorium. In a pool of light, a woman my mother’s age and a man about my age sat at a table. The woman was Katherine Collins, and the man was Brandon Graham. He was interviewing her about her life and career, and her return to actively working as a cartoonist. A collection of her Neil the Horse stories was being republished in a thick volume after a long hiatus. She held her Neil the Horse book parallel to the table and let it drop with a thud. “That’s my favorite thing about this book,” she said. She had a deep, wry voice and as soon as she spoke, I wondered if she had worked in radio.

The conversation started with her youth and her cartooning inspirations. I didn’t get the cartooning references, but I liked that she set workmanlike goals for herself when she was 9 years old. I liked that she was competitive and bluffed her way into a radio gig even though she didn’t have experience at the time. Among many other things, Katherine adapted old comic strips to radio skits. She said, “All the other people in the skits were much better than me, but I didn’t care. Because I wrote them.”

I didn’t know what Katherine and Brandon were talking about half the time, about cartooning and the CBC, and the scene in Vancouver and Toronto. It was like listening to BBC World Service when you can’t sleep, and letting the enjoyably unfamiliar flow past you. They talk about cricket and you stare at the ceiling knowing nothing about cricket, clenching and unclenching your toes.

When I was a kid, I tried to hear BBC English as a foreign language, reduced to the aesthetics of sounds bumping up against each other, and the texture of voices. We only got one FM station up and down the radio dial—it was static soft and hard everywhere else. That was the local community radio station, relayed by receivers on mountain tops to tiny logging camps and roadless fishing villages. There was also one station on the AM dial—a rightwing commercial Christian radio station.

At night I’d troll slowly through the static on both dials, listening for changes, trying to sift voices out of the noise. Once in a while, if conditions were just right, the CBC came in from somewhere. It was as if aliens made contact, me cross-legged on my bed in the dark, absorbing wisdom from another culture. But the next night, and the nights after that—no more CBC. Just fuzz.

Katherine said, “I’ve always had a great capacity for ignoring things I’m not interested in. It’s called being a snob.” This is the sort of bitchily quotable thing my Grandma Ann was always saying. She had a presence and a deep voice like Katherine. She even had a similar handsome look, with a strong nose and pleasing facial planes.

Ann was big-chested and rangy at the same time. From my bedroom perch, I watched her loping up and down the cannery dock throughout the 1980s. She was a jack of no trades. She did all right as a housewife but wasn’t into it. She was a little disorganized. She helped with her husband’s business and she raised three kids as well as her personality would allow. She liked her grandkids, but not excessively. She scribbled in notebooks. She liked novels, the newspaper, baseball on television when she could get it. She liked playing cards. She was sardonic and opinionated and mellow and mirthful. She walked her dog, admired her cat, and knew the names of wildflowers. She was probably depressed. She was hard on herself in a way that cut other people down too. Ann’s potential was unfulfilled, like everyone else’s I knew, but she had an air of just being and that seemed like more than enough at the time. Nobody at her memorial suggested that she’d been kind, and I was glad they didn't lie just because she was dead.

Katherine isn’t like Ann at all. Besides being a generation younger, she had and has direction, and passion, and ambition. She made Neil the Horse, and she interviewed comic book and cartooning greats on national radio. She wrote songs for a musical version of Neil the Horse that she produced. She was and is the voice of Neil the Horse. And then she'd been sidelined from that by life, circumstances, the publishing world, animation studios. In the early 1990s, when she was in her early 40s, she said she could no longer get published. Katherine said, “It’s kind of sad and ironic and irritating that I was stopped doing my work back when I had momentum."

I’m going on 40 and I feel like I haven’t worked up that initial head of steam yet. I’m low energy and inefficient, I lack confidence and am an all-around foot-shooter. If I were in Alaska, it would matter less. If I were fifty years ago, I would have had a family along the way. I could have been like my grandmother but I was trying to be like Katherine, and falling through the gap between them.

Katherine is trying to get that productive part of her life back, but has less energy and more health problems now. She’d just been granted a big award in Toronto. She said, “Now I have to come alive again and do the work I’d hoped to do.” She said she might only have about fifteen minutes before she keeled over. She was joking, sort of, but she’d been sick and the people in her family tend to get Alzheimer’s and check out by 80.

A man in the audience asked her what she’d done since the 1990s. Even if she didn’t get published, was she still working—did she have a backlog of work to bring to light? She had an answer about a half-finished graphic novel but I understood that she had just been living life and sometimes that’s the thing that takes you away from your work. Meanwhile, you watch people fall off the edge of the world and disappear, and you feel yourself getting older and closer to the edge.

When Katherine said, “The next thing is to see if I can actually do it,” it bolsters me. I need to see other people lack confidence so I know to muddle on despite my own lack of confidence.

She’s going to do more Neil the Horse, but she talked about the contrast between a singing, dancing horse and the state of the world. “The human race is exhibiting the worst characteristics all over the place,” she said. She wants a different point of view than before. “I don’t want it to be somber, but I want it to be a little more aware of what’s happening in the world.”

I don’t want to be somber either, but every day I’m shellacked. All day I feel the fact that we’re living through a national emergency. I listen to political podcasts, show up to marches, attend meetings, and shell out more than I can afford for human rights and life on earth. At night I religiously blog the headlines and the press briefings in a hit and miss, scrapbooky way. I keep this blog under the radar because I work with Republicans in a conservative industry. Still, every few nights a maudlin personal essay finds its way in. I’m flying off the handle and white American men will feel the heat of my scorn.

What I haven’t done is anything else. No Wednesday trips to my local comic book shop. No reading floppies on the bus ride home. No reading comics on a bench by the lake and scribbling notes. No reviewing, no blogging, no musings about comics.

Katherine reminded me of something I did know before—anything you want to say about the world you can say in a cartoon, even one featuring a singing, dancing horse. And more than that, writing about comics was never just an escape for me. Anything I wanted to say about the world, I could say it in essays about comics. Not in a direct, social justicey way. But just about these lives we lead and the things that hit our eyes on the way down.

(P.S. I learned later that night that Katherine Collins is a transwoman who previously published under the name Arn Saba. Although this information did round out my understanding of her childhood and the first part of her career, this essay is just about my experience of watching her and listening to her that afternoon when I didn't know.)

[allbestnet]

Goodreads Best Books of the Decade: 1990's

959 people voted for   Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Harry Potter, #1) by J.K. Rowling

673 people voted for   Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Harry Potter, #3) by J.K. Rowling

639 people voted for   Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Harry Potter, #2) by J.K. Rowling

377 people voted for   A Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire, #1) by George R.R. Martin

374 people voted for   Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden

354 people voted for   The Giver (The Giver, #1) by Lois Lowry

295 people voted for   The Golden Compass (His Dark Materials, #1) by Philip Pullman

276 people voted for   The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver

244 people voted for   The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

234 people voted for   Holes (Holes, #1) by Louis Sachar

180 people voted for   Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier

175 people voted for   Bridget Jones's Diary (Bridget Jones, #1) by Helen Fielding

171 people voted for   Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

167 people voted for   Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt, #1) by Frank McCourt

149 people voted for   The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

141 people voted for   Jurassic Park (Jurassic Park, #1) by Michael Crichton

136 people voted for   Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry Pratchett

137 people voted for   A Clash of Kings (A Song of Ice and Fire, #2) by George R.R. Martin

134 people voted for   The Bad Beginning (A Series of Unfortunate Events, #1) by Lemony Snicket

127 people voted for   Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (The Wicked Years, #1) by Gregory Maguire

126 people voted for   Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

121 people voted for   Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman

123 people voted for   The Subtle Knife (His Dark Materials, #2) by Philip Pullman

119 people voted for   Outlander (Outlander #1) by Diana Gabaldon

111 people voted for   The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien

113 people voted for   Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil: A Savannah Story by John Berendt

109 people voted for   Snow Falling on Cedars by David Guterson

105 people voted for   The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

108 people voted for   Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

105 people voted for   The Green Mile by Stephen King

101 people voted for   Blindness by José Saramago

100 people voted for   Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace

100 people voted for   The Secret History by Donna Tartt

101 people voted for   Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer

97 people voted for   The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

99 people voted for   White Oleander by Janet Fitch

100 people voted for   Sophie's World by Jostein Gaarder

100 people voted for   The Red Tent by Anita Diamant

98 people voted for   The Notebook (The Notebook, #1) by Nicholas Sparks

94 people voted for   High Fidelity by Nick Hornby

94 people voted for   Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

91 people voted for   Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond

91 people voted for   The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje

90 people voted for   The Reader by Bernhard Schlink

90 people voted for   The Firm by John Grisham

84 people voted for   Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier

83 people voted for   Stardust by Neil Gaiman

84 people voted for   Oh, The Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss

79 people voted for   She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

78 people voted for   The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency (No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, #1) by Alexander McCall Smith

76 people voted for   Possession by A.S. Byatt

75 people voted for   A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

76 people voted for   A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail by Bill Bryson

72 people voted for   The Sandman, Vol. 1: Preludes and Nocturnes by Neil Gaiman

73 people voted for   Into Thin Air: A Personal Account of the Mount Everest Disaster by Jon Krakauer

71 people voted for   All the Pretty Horses (The Border Trilogy, #1) by Cormac McCarthy

71 people voted for   I Know This Much Is True by Wally Lamb

70 people voted for   The Hours by Michael Cunningham

69 people voted for   The Shipping News by Annie Proulx

63 people voted for   The Secret History by Donna Tartt

66 people voted for   Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri

63 people voted for   Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood

62 people voted for   Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Høeg

60 people voted for   Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh

58 people voted for   Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernières

57 people voted for   Sabriel (Abhorsen, #1) by Garth Nix

56 people voted for   American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

55 people voted for   A Walk to Remember by Nicholas Sparks

51 people voted for   A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley

53 people voted for   Disgrace by J.M. Coetzee

50 people voted for   The Eye of the World (Wheel of Time, #1) by Robert Jordan

50 people voted for   Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson

50 people voted for   American Pastoral (The American Trilogy, #1) by Philip Roth

48 people voted for   The Kitchen God's Wife by Amy Tan

48 people voted for   Naked by David Sedaris

47 people voted for   About a Boy by Nick Hornby

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42 people voted for   Chocolat (Chocolat, #1) by Joanne Harris

43 people voted for   Where the Heart Is by Billie Letts

44 people voted for   The Pelican Brief by John Grisham

42 people voted for   The Amber Spyglass (His Dark Materials, #3) by Philip Pullman

36 people voted for   Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson

37 people voted for   L.A. Confidential (L.A. Quartet, #3) by James Ellroy

36 people voted for   Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx

34 people voted for   Insomnia by Stephen King

37 people voted for   Notes from a Small Island by Bill Bryson

34 people voted for   A Widow for One Year by John Irving

32 people voted for   Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat: A Calvin and Hobbes Collection by Bill Watterson

34 people voted for   The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle by Avi

32 people voted for   Timeline by Michael Crichton

30 people voted for   The Tortilla Curtain by T.C. Boyle

32 people voted for   We Were the Mulvaneys by Joyce Carol Oates

31 people voted for   Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coelho

30 people voted for   Regeneration (Regeneration, #1) by Pat Barker

31 people voted for   Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason (Bridget Jones, #2) by Helen Fielding

31 people voted for   Maus II: A Survivor's Tale: And Here My Troubles Began (Maus, #2) by Art Spiegelman

30 people voted for   Daughter of the Forest (Sevenwaters, #1) by Juliet Marillier

31 people voted for   The Beach by Alex Garland

28 people voted for   Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem

28 people voted for   The Client by John Grisham

[nostalgiaispeace]

1605.

Do you use wide ruled or college ruled notebooks? doesn’t matter.

On a pair of jeans, which pocket do you most use? back pockets

Do you have a class ring? no

What about a letterman jacket? No.

Do you still have a piggy bank? i might

Is it actually shaped like a pig? no

What is the name of the hospital you were born in? no idea

What is the legal drinking age of the country you live in? 21.

What type of internet browser are you using? Firefox.

What’s your favorite search engine? google

Are you a “Master Googler”? i don’t know what makes someone a master googler lol

Do people often buy you photo albums when they don’t know what else to buy? no

Have you ever literally lent someone a shoulder to cry on? of course

How long do your showers typically last? like 10 minutes at the most

What is the most annoying accent you’ve ever heard? southern

Have you ever seen a mariachi music video? no

Have you ever watched a movie with the commentary? What about the subtitles? plenty of times for both

What are your thoughts on re-constructive surgery? What about plastic surgery? if it’s needed i’m all for it.

Or should people learn to love their flaws? i think everyone has flaws but they make each one of us unique. flaws sound not equal bad.

Do you style your hair regularly? i don’t

What does your laundry basket/hamper look like? i have a black one and a pink one

Do you have a favorite word? What is it? naw

McDonald’s sweet tea: Yes or No? sure

When was the last time you had a papercut? idk

What was the worst Halloween costume you ever had? no clue

Is violence ever really the answer? no

Do you have a favorite brand of pen? no

Do you enjoy the smell of sharpies? What about gasoline? Or even chlorine? yes; no; no.

Have you ever sung in a choir? If so, what section were you in? Bass, Tenor, Alto, Soprano? yeah i was an alto

Did you ever pronounce bologna how it’s spelled? no

Are either of your parents in the medical field? no

What about educational field? no

Can you cry on cue? Do you wish you could? yeah

Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? gold

Have you ever shaved your arms? What about your stomach? yes and yes

Have you ever made a friendship bracelet? i don’t think so

Have you ever been sledding on a real wooden sled with metal runners? no

Are you allergic to any particular animals? What about foods? And medicines? Or are you one of the lucky ones who don’t have any allergies? i’m allergic to horses; i’m allergic to almost all fruits; no meds

Did you or anyone you knew get swine flu? no

Do you think that people caused global warming? Or is it more of a natural earth cycle thing? i believe it’s a mix of both

Do you watch Curling during the Olympics? sure

Is bright red lipstick classy or trashy? it’s not my thing

Do the potential lovers you pursue typically have tattoos and piercings? my husband has tattoos

Do you like your teeth? Have you had any work done on them? no; i’ve had braces and gum disease treatment

Do you know what a lobotomy is? yeah

Have you ever put ranch dressing on pizza? no

Do you remember the purple and green colored ketchup from the 1990s? i do

Have you ever taken a dance class? no

Do you ever actually buy CDs anymore or do you just download music? both

Who is prettier? Jennifer Love Hewitt or Megan Fox? What about Ellen Degeneres or Mariah Carrey? megan fox; neither

Have you ever been to failblog.org? No.

Do you own a guitar? yeah

Do you pop your knuckles? yeah

Do all of your photos in yearbooks usually turn out looking terrible? from what i remember yeah

Did you have uniforms at your high school? No.

How often do you dust your room? lol like never

Do you ever use Febreez? yes

Have you ever been to Japan? What about Germany? Or Mexico? nope to all

Does your family ever take fun vacations? no

Where was the last place you went on vacation? no idea

Have you ever seen a castle in real life? If you said no, please note that the castles at Disney parks count. =D no

Do you remember the first book you read by yourself? No.

Did you ever read R. L. Stine’s Goosebumps books? omgsh tons of them

What about Lemony Snicket’s “A Series of Unfortunate Events” books? yup

Have you ever seen a nun in public? no

Have you ever heard of a musician named Priscilla Renea? no

Have you seen the Austin Power’s movies? i’ve seen one of them

Do you, or did you ever, have a Gameboy? i still have mine

Are you sitting in a rolley chair? Nope.

Were you a Nancy Drew reader when you were younger? I wasn’t.

Do you think Twilight is losing lots of original fans because of the movie? i have no idea

Do you think Zombieland was like an American version of Shaun of the Dead? i’ve never seen shaun of the dead so i don’t know.

Have you ever ice skated? What about roller skated? yes and yes

Do you have a video camera? What about a digital camera? Webcam? i have my phone which is basically all 3

What is your preferred instant messaging service? facebook

Do you enjoy being in photos? Or do you prefer taking the photos? neither

Know anyone named Gus? no

Do you know anyone who seems to break EVERYTHING they touch? yeah

Are giraffe’s weird animals? naw