#Espi rambles about writing

[espithewarlock]

I don't understand stats on AO3 sometimes.

These fics have the exact same number of kudos, but Saying Vows has like a third of the hits and was published two days ago? (Give It To Me was published mid-January.)

I could drive myself insane and try to figure out why one fic is more popular than the other (or what constitutes popularity, honestly) but I think I'm just going to continue writing what makes me happy and hope that sometimes other people enjoy it too.

[trainerlynda]

Intro

Hello, I guess I should tell you about myself?

I'm Lynda! I'm 35 years old and bigender, going by she/her he/him.

Born the 31st of January.

I research legendary pokemon in my off time, chasing legends and rumors about new ones. I find them very fascinating!

//Current Arc: none at the moment!

//Finished Arc: Fool's Faller

My main team is

Espeon (He/Him).

Raichu (She/Her).

Charizard (pretty sure he's a clone 'zard...) (He/Him).

Sceptile (He/Him).

Greninja (He/They. Demi boy).

Hydreigon (She/Her)!

As for my champ team? You'll need to challenge me to find out~

I also have a Giratina named Oblivion (He/They/It).

I like calling him Blivie. I don't really use him in battle or keep him in his ball, but I can call on him when I need to. He has his own account! @oblivionthegiratina.

I'm married to @silveredfeathers, so no funny business, got it? Really not into flirty banter unless you're him... or @timetravelerpyrite, recently a boyfriend.

I guess I should put this here now since its out now...

The link above will tell you what I am.

Sometimes members of my team will steal my phone so-

⚡: Sparky (She also likes using Yellow for her text.)

🐱: Espie (He likes using Purple for his text (He doesn't like pink))

🦎: Riptor (He likes using Green for his text.

//Mini events that have happened/are happening.

//Shadow Creatures (A mini takeover event)

//Extra info under the cut.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

//Ooc. This is a sideblog! Unreality. Mod is an adult and goes by the same pronouns. All art I use is my own! I follow from @theshadowqueenofthedistortion ... Here's some of my other accounts as well!

//Link to her trainer card!

//Semi-Serious blog, I will participate in active silliness and also write serious stuff. Will sometimes touch on death, abuse and a few other things, I will tag the serious stuff with their appropriate tw/cw tags.

//No magic anons, Lyn has been through enough and I personally don't like them.

//I will not ship with anyone who isn't my BF (and myself, but that's a note for later), just for my comfort. Lyn's universe is a mix of pokemon and abunch of other things, if she goes to hang out with someone he'll likely go there with a portal.

//I am very open to crossover stuff! My character in herself is rather crossovery and his universe has dimensional travel, her world is separate from others and Giratina like screwing around with that (Palkia? Whos that? /j)

//Pokemon in his universe have human levels of sentience, however she is aware of places that have Pokemon that aren't sentient, so he won't find that odd.

//Real life animals exist along side Pokemon in her universe, like divergent evolution (not the pokemon thing, the science thing)

//I don't bite! (But my character might-)

//What the tags mean.

//Shadow Mod Speaks: Mod speaking.

Random Lynda Rambles: Lynda just saying random things, non serious tag, silliness encouraged.

//It is now Lyn Chats.

Lore Crumbs: Me sprinkling little tasty crumbs as a treat (Lynda info).

//Not used much anymore

//Mod Reference: Me and/or Zorana making references for Lyn and/or Silver.

//Shadow Art: Art by me that isn't a ref/finished.

Shifting Explorer: Closed and/or serious RP. I will also use this tag when responding seriously to something.

Espie the Espeon: For ease of finding Espie's posts.

Sparky the Dancing Rai: For ease of finding Sparky's posts.

Riptor the Great Gecko: For ease of finding Riptor's posts.

Oblivion the Distorted: For ease of finding Oblivion's posts.

Icy Apathy (Daniel): Daniel posts

Whirlpool Emotions (Jade): Jade Posts

Shocking Chaos (Crackle): Crackle Posts

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

//To do: Make a important pokemon list, make a general info background thing for Lyn (like those wiki pages for celebrities), make a public ref sheet for Lyn and her Pokemon (4/7 done), write out a public history thing for Lynda and @silveredfeathers (With help from Zorana (Silver's mod), again like those dumb wikis), get the courage to talk to other people (ongoing) /lh

[espytalks]

it’s been a long time since i actually finished a sketchbook, but i counted, and the one i have for watercolors has 9 pages left. hnn i wanna finish it, but man, what should i drawwwww? and also i’d have to get a new one right after i finish it, cause that’s the only paper i have that takes watercolor.

[scotianostra]

The Scottish Folk singer Alex Campbell  was born on 27th April 1931 in Glasgow

When both of his parents and his two sisters died from tuberculosis, he spent some time in an orphanage before being taken in by his grandmother. During World War II he met American, Polish and Australian servicemen who were based in Glasgow and he developed an interest in the songs they sang. 

Campbell started work in the Civil Service but left to enrol for a course at the Sorbonne in Paris, busking in the streets to support himself. He found regular engagement singing Scottish folk songs and playing guitar in cafes. He made regular return trips to Britain in the 1950s, appearing at Alexis Corner’s Blues and Barrelhouse Club and other skiffle and folk music venues that were opening around the country. He played all around Britain in the 60s, and then took his bulging bag of songs to many new venues and clubs all over the Continent for the folk revival. He was briefly and platonically married Peggy Seeger, lending her his name so she would not be deported, of course Peggy is better known as the wife of  Ewan MacColl.

In a career that went from his home town of Glasgow to Paris, from the rainy streets of Manchester to the festivals of Denmark, with something like 100 albums in between, Alex Campbell became a legend. Billy Connolly talked about Alex in his autobiography and was a big admirer.

Ewan McVicar writing in the Living Tradition said  “Alex was The Rambling Scottish Cowboy in ten gallon boots, singing anything from the British or American traditions that took his fancy, American work songs and spirituals or translations from Scots Gaelic, big ballads or small rude ditties, songs by Guthrie and Dylan and Paxton…”

Alex’s reputation for being the “Big Daddy” of folk music stemmed from his generosity to new and young acts.  He recorded with a young Dougie MacLean and with the Tannahill Weavers. In addition, his albums contained a production and musicality which was often not present in most traditional albums of the day, and these studio albums stand out as major examples of his ability to arrange and work with groups of skilled musicians. But Campbell’s legacy to the world of traditional music lies in his art as a performing artist where he would captivate and enthrall with a strong charismatic presence.

Alex Campbell developed throat cancer and died in Denmark on 3rd January 1987. It took me ages to find Alex Campbell’s version of this song, the nearest I could find had Glasgow instead of Glasga so had to amend it myself, there are probably other words I should have changed but don’t shoot me if you spot any!  It’s my second Child Ballad of the week, this is number 228, the other from my Battle of Harlaw post.

Glasgae peggy

Hielan lads sae brisk and braw, The Hielan lads sae brisk and gaudie, Hae gane awa to Glasga town, To steal awa the bonny Peggy.

As they came on to Glasga town, And passd the banks and braes sae bonny, There they espied the weel-faurd may, And she said to them her name was Peggy.

Their chief did meet her father soon, And O! but he was wondrous angry; Says, Ye may steal my owsen and kye, But ye maunna steal my bonnie Peggy.

‘O haud your tongue, ye gude auld man, For I’ve got cows and ewes already; I come na to steal your owsen and kye, But I will steal your bonny Peggy.’

He set her on a milk-white steed, And he himsel rode a gude grey naigie, And they are on mony miles to the north, And nane wi them but the bonny Peggy.

‘I hae fifty acres o gude red lan, And a’ weel ploughd and sawn already, And why should your father be angry wi me, And ca me naething but a Hielan laddie?

 ‘I hae twenty weel mounted steeds, Black and brown and grey, already; And ilk ane o them is tended by a groom, Altho I be but a Hielan laddie

‘I hae now ten thousand sheep, A’ feeding on yon braes sae bonny, And ilka hundred a shepherd has, Altho I be but a Hieland laddie.

‘I hae a castle on yonder hill, It’s a’ set roun wi windows many; I’m Lord M’Donald o the whole Isle of Skye; And why shouldna Peggy be ca’d my Lady?’

 Now a’ that Peggy had before Was a wee cot-house and a little kail-yairdie, But now she is lady o the whole Isle o Skye, And now bonny Peggy is ca’d my Lady.

[mystarsforanempire]

loki in therapy: letter to fandral

Tagging @thedashingone for reasons.

Context: Loki goes to his first therapy session. He talks about his relationships with each of the Warriors Three, and especially talks about Fandral. He talks about how cruel Fandral could be with him, and this exchange happens:

“And – forgive me if I’ve missed something – how did you know this was done with your pain in mind?” Loki blinks, staring down at the knotted string between his hands.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it seems like this fellow, Fandral… You’re saying he flirted with you; that you found him handsome. What makes you think he did this out of some desire to hurt you, as opposed to a desire for you?” Loki is suddenly very aware of the weight of his own tongue in his dry mouth, pressed against the back of his teeth. He thinks of Fandral’s easy smiles, the way he would playfully shove Loki in the side after a battle, thinks of Fandral’s fingers cupping his cheek as he pins Loki against a corridor wall.

“I was his good friend’s younger brother,” Loki murmurs. “I was to him as forbidden fruit. As we each grew older, he ceased his teasing, for I was more confident in refusing his attentions, not falling prey to his japes, and once I was a widower, I’m sure I was less attractive to him. But even then, he would never allow for my solitude. He would constantly draw me into conversations when our band was riding out, forcing me into the spotlight. He would mockingly praise my attributes, or play as my defender when the others spurned me.”

“You mean, he would strive to include you in conversations,” Sven says, not unkindly, “and that he would stand against his friends when they were cruel to you?” Loki feels a sickness make itself known in his stomach, and he stares down at the wood-panelled floor of Sven’s cabin. “Is it so unlikely this young man was just trying to be kind to you? That he genuinely enjoyed, and desired your company?”

So then! Loki sits down to write down his feelings, and he writes a letter to Fandral. Because his entire worldview re: Fandral has kinda just been shattered. 

                                                                             ---

To Fandral the Dashing,

I put pen to paper with great trepidation. Long has it been since we spoke face to face, and longer still since we had a conversation that lasted more than five minutes, and yet I find myself compelled to pen this epistle and send it on to you. I would assure you, forthwith, that I am both hale and hearty in my place upon Asgard. With the greatest of hospitality am I hosted amongst these Avengers, strange bedfellows though they might be for a villain such as I, and I write to you not to beg of you to engender some manner in which to release me, nor to manipulate you into taking some tack against Thor, as I have beseeched you in the past.

Nay, I write without especial intention in mind, I confess. It must seem strange, that I, a man ever concerned with how he might polish his words and put them forth into the world, should find himself with so dumb a tongue, and yet here I stand, at a loss.

I write to ask of you a question. No, that seems so simplistic – I write to you for much more than that, and yet, much less. I hold no illusions, Fandral: I do not believe you owe me aught, and if you see fit to burn this missive upon reading it, I shall not blame you.

First and foremost, I believe I owe you to apology. When I took on the throne after Odin fell into the Odinsleep, with Thor still stranded upon Midgard, I was wrong to be so angry, that you, Sif, Volstagg and Hogun should want to rescue Thor from his prison upon the planet; I was wrong to treat you so callously; I was wrong to send the Destroyer down toward you. All of this, I know, and I regret. I would not insult you with some explanation of what feelings prompted the outburst, for they are irrelevant – all that matters is that I know and understand why you might hate me, for what I did, and that I would offer you whatever apology you see fit. If you would ask of me anything I might offer – be it explanation, be it some service, even some humiliation or punishment you would have me suffer, I will submit to it. You may feel free to open this offer to Volstagg, Hogun and even Sif, too, if you so wish it, but I would ask you – as a favour to myself, undeserving as I am – not reveal the latter contents of this missive.

I am embarrassed by them.

No. Embarrassment is too simple a word, and yet as I write upon this page, the nib of my Midgardian page cutting the clean lines of script upon the parchment, I feel as if mere words will never be sufficient to explain the depth of feeling within me, the great well upon which I draw.

You may think me foolish, I think, in what I am about to say. You might be offended, or angry, or worse, you may find yourself laughing at the obscenity of my blossoming delusion. I know not!

I wish I might meet you, face-to-face, but I feel assuredly I would become tongue-tied, as so often I became when we were alone together. Is it not strange, Fandral, that we can have so certain and so well-established an idea of the self we occupy, and yet be so different in the eyes of those that meet us?

Often, I wept as a child, for I was not viewed as that which I sought to be. I did not measure to Odin’s expectations, nor to Thor’s, nor even to Mother’s, at times; try as I might, I felt I could never be that which Asgard wanted to be, and even when I tried…

But no. I am writing upon the page such nonsenses that I might procrastinate the truth I have so steeled myself to ask of you.

Fandral the Dashing, son of Alvis and Helena, I ask you simply, and I ask you plain: would you have considered us friends, before my betrayal? Is that how you envisaged our connection to one another?

Such stark words on so pale a page. So damning. I ask you not out of some insecurity, merely— Look at my writings, Norns, this is more of a stream of consciousness than a letter, and yet I know I could not bear to redraft it. Undoubtedly, I would become a coward, and I would burn the papers entirely.

For so long, Fandral, I have lived under the impression that you thought me nothing more than the ugly thing at my brother’s side, the wolf snapping at your heels. For centuries, end-to-end, I have believed that each of the kindnesses you ever offered me were little more than attempts to mock me, of which I could not fathom the joke; for millennia I have scorned your compliments as little more than japes and jests, intended to lull me into false security. I have called you a fop and a wastrel, a slattern and a dog; I have slapped away the hands that so gently touched my shoulder when I found myself upset; I have insulted you, and humiliated you, and treated you with such fury, and yet…

This week, I found myself speaking with a fellow, of you. I told him of how cruelly you had treated me, in the past, how unkindly you viewed my company, and he held up a mirror to your treatment of me.

For all I described the cruel things you did to me, he read them back to me in a different tone. Where I saw only unpleasantness, and sadism, he echoed my words and said he espied only kindness on your part.

What am I to do? I feel as if my very heart has been cleaved open, and so here bleeds my heartblood upon the page, as ink.

Fandral, I beseech you. Confirm or deny that which I say.

For all these years, have I truly so mistreated the only man who thought himself my friend? Have I misjudged you so? If that be the case, why, I don’t know how I might even begin to beg of your forgiveness. I think of times we have spent together, and short laughs exchanged in tense moments. I think of the times you would walk with me in Iðunn’s orchard, telling me filthy jokes I determined not to laugh at, and always did, in the end. I think of waking from some battle with you at my sickbed, and my venomous tongue spitting insults at you until you left me to the solitude of my infirmary. So memories brim in my eyes like unshed tears, and I wonder if I have truly misjudged you for so very long.

If that is true… I can give you nothing. I can do nothing to mend my behaviours. I can assure you of nothing except that I shall never do so again, for I am no longer of Asgard. If we were truly friends in your mind, Fandral, then I offer you my deepest apologies. I never deserved you.

And if I am wrong, if my fellow was wrong, if you truly meant to be cruel to me in all those encounters, why, nothing needs to change. You can go on hating me, and I shall go on knowing you are probably right to.

Fandral… Ever did I feel trapped upon Asgard, as a bird within a cage, surrounded by those that would mock its feathers and the cut of its beak, threaten to devour it whole. When I fled, when I would wander off to places unknown to Asgard, I did so with the knowledge that I would one day have to return, and so that day would come.

But when I spent time with you? Whether you thought of me as friend or enemy, Fandral, when we spent time together, Asgard felt less small. You made it feel bigger, more adventurous, less cloying. Whether you thought of me your friend or not, as your rival, your enemy, I would have you know that. Know that for all I tried to hate you, I found affection for you all the same.

(And you are charming. You know that, of course, but… Even I found you so. And if you truly wished to seduce me, all those times, know that I didn’t refuse you out of cruelty. I merely didn’t understand the veracity of your desires. Were things different-- But I speak of times long past. Fires long doused, I’m certain.)

And here I find I must end my ramblings. I ought not send this letter, I know as I finish it, and yet… And yet I feel that I must. It is the first step on the road of a difficult journey.

With all the respect I can muster, Fandral, From a man who would be your friend, Loki, son of Böl.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Vol. 4, No. 1

Esmerine

Our first Dust of the year roots through overlooked discs from 2017 while taking tentative steps into 2018, seeking out, as always, the sounds that intrigue us in large and small ways. This edition ruminates on blissed out folk, minimalist Reich-isms, microtonalisms, Thai-flavored surf and the possibly apocryphal genre of falschwave, with contributions from Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Ian Mathers, Justin Cober-Lake and Jonathan Shaw.  

Ilyas Ahmed — Closer to Stranger (MIE Music)

PASSING LINES - ILYAS AHMED - Official Music Video from Stephen Slappe on Vimeo.

Ilyas Ahmed plays a dreamy, untethered acoustic folk music, anchored by guitar but awash in floating, fading, translucent overtones. A sometime collaborator with altered folk-blues atmospherist Theo Angell and a partner in Dreamboat with ambient saxophonist Jonathan Sielaff of Golden Retriever, Ahmed works mostly alone here (Sielaff plays on the meditative “Zero for Below”). His songs move slowly, paced by the most minimal percussion, and left to drift hazily in soft air; he sings elliptical verses, widely spaced by jangling tangles of guitar, clear tones of Fender Rhodes. “Passing Lines,” the single, puts a scratchy, friction-y guitar rhythm around smoke wisps of murmured melody. “Sleepwalker” is more assertive, dissonant blares of distorted guitar poking through its somnolent contours, a la Hisato Higuchi. Closer to Stranger isn’t built to knock you over, but rather to insinuate itself softly, gradually, into the spaces in your head.

Jennifer Kelly

 Beast — Volume One and Volume Two (Pre-Echo Press)

Beast - 'Chase Scene' from Koen Holtkamp on Vimeo.

Koen Holtkamp has made plenty of entrancing music, both solo and as one half of epochal drone/ambient duo Mountains, but that music has generally downplayed or even ignored the possibilities of rhythm. That’s what makes Holtkamp’s first efforts under the Beast moniker such an interesting turn; the music here starts with rhythms, brightly colored clusters of notes densely arpeggiating into infinity. Both LPs manage to summon up some of the same peace and grandeur that Holtkamp is capable of with Mountains through very different sonic means. The division between the material makes sense — Volume One was recorded live with minimal edits, whereas Volume Two is a little more formally composed. Still both volumes go together with Holtkamp’s recent work marrying the modular synthesis and virtual instruments found here with 3D laser projections, and both touch on everything from Reichian minimalism to the sleek pulse of more electronic focused Krautrock. That Holtkamp can achieve such deep focus and ecstatic effects as easily as from many, many notes colliding together as he did from the drone is just a sign of how locked in his work is here.

Ian Mathers 

 Pascale Criton — Infra (Potlatch)

Chaoscaccia (2014) de Pascale Criton et Deborah Walker (extrait : polyphonies mutantes) from lellodeb on Vimeo.

There are ways of carrying on a life in music that don’t involve putting out lots of records. Pascale Criton has been composing microtonal music since the 1980s. While she has published many pieces of music as well as writing about the intersection of philosophy and music, this is only the second CD devoted to her work. Ensemble Dedalus, a French new music ensemble whose repertoire includes work by Jürg Frey, Antoine Beuger and Moondog, fills the breach by recording four recent works that split notes into sixteenths. The settings vary from violin and cello solos to music for five pieces (violin, cello, guitar, flute and trombone). On each the microscopic focus that Criton and the musicians bring to bear on small gestures — an ascending tone, an abrupt scratch, a plucked rhythm — gives the music a paradoxically limitless quality that makes it pretty easy to keep hitting the repeat button. If you’ve warmed to the string sounds of Tony Conrad and Arnold Dreyblatt, Infra is waiting to make your life better.

Bill Meyer

 Dead Rider — Crew Licks (Drag City)

The latest missive from Todd Rittman’s band of what I previously described on Dusted as musical werewolves both pulls back and goes further; he and Jake Samson and Matthew Espy still throw in all sorts of weird noises, shapes, and structures, but the digital blurring, shearing, shattering and shivering all over 2014’s Chills on Glass is mostly absent here. Instead the focus is on textures that are more overtly rock (or even rawk) indebted, whether that’s the fierce thrash of “The Floating Dagger” or the potent gloom of the closing “When I Was Frankenstein’s.” There’s even a cover of the Dead’s “Ramble on Rose” that at times sounds like it’s disappearing in front of your ears. The going further is that, while the technology and writing on Chills on Glass could feel oddly poppy, here Dead Rider sets out for deep in the forest/swamp/basement/dungeon and sounds like they might never come out. For simpatico creatures of the night, that’s an advertisement.  

Ian Mathers

 Esmerine—The Mechanics of Dominion (Constellation)

Mechanics Of Dominion by Esmerine

Esmerine, an offshoot of the experimental scene that grew up around Godspeed You! Black Emperor in Montreal, has been making music since just after the turn of the millennium, winding Rebecca Foon’s wonderfully supple cello through magically lighted, abstracted landscapes of piano, percussion, acoustic bass and orchestral instruments. Foon is a veteran of Thee Silver Mt. Zion, while her main partner Bruce Cawdron, has played percussion in Godspeed, but here they weave gentler, statelier, more melancholy textures, along the lines of Clogs. In the chamber group’s sixth full-length, sounds are warm, emotionally resonant and hyper clear; you feel that you are hearing more sharply than usual. An abbreviated orchestra accompanies them into calm, luminous spaces, adding scratch-y runs of bass, surges of brass and the limpid calm of malletted percussion. Long intervals of soothing sparseness give way to exuberant excess, as when “La Lucha Es En Sola” erupts late-cut into a giddy, horn-blaring, drum thwacking procession. The title cut, too, has its moments of drama, a tumultuous battering of drum heads and cymbals kicking the piece into a higher, more triumphant gear. Yet the impression you’ll come away with is one of quiet, truthful beauty, as intricate interworkings of rhythm and tone distill into pure sensation on the gorgeous closer “Piscibus Maris.”  

Jennifer Kelly

 Mary Gauthier—Rifles and Rosary Beads (In the Black/Thirty Tigers)

Mary Gauthier co-wrote these eleven songs with wounded veterans, as part of the non-profit SongwritingWith:Soldiers effort, working alongside people had never written music before to distill their stories into lyrics. Gauthier, whose own work has been unflinching, translates these materials into powerful, unsentimental narratives that seem, in a rarity for songs about military, entirely honest and devoid of cliché. Neither Gauthier nor her co-writers shy away from difficult subjects. There are songs about drug addiction (“Morphine 1-2”), sexual harassment (“Brothers”) and the women who care for the damaged returning home (“The War After the War”). Yet this is not protest music, and it’s not anti-military. These tunes convey the deep pride and satisfaction that comes with serving, though they make clear that there’s nothing easy or simple about it. Gauthier’s project would be worthy just for the way it reclaims these narratives and takes them seriously, but it works wonderfully well as music, too. Her steady, vibrato-tipped alto reinforces the unstarry-eyed clarity of the song’s sentiments, the melodies, pared back and traditional, lend a heft and historic resonance to their stories of sacrifice. This is a fascinating project, providing an unfiltered view into what forever war means for the people who bear the burden. Those of us who don’t can learn a lot by listening.

Jennifer Kelly

 Khruangbin — Con Todo El Mundo (Dead Oceans)

The trio Khruangbin drew some attention when their debut album The Universe Smiles Upon You mixed Thai funk with some psychedelia and surf into its own sort of groove. The group's follow-up Con Todo El Mundo ostensibly draws its sound from much of the mundo, and, while it's tough to pin exactly where these sounds originate, it doesn't seem to be the group's home base of Texas. The album starts strong, with its slinky funk locked in by Laura Lee's bass, which remains the focal point of the disc and the group's greatest strength. Guitarist Mark Speer tends toward the psychedelic, and the interplay of his spaciness and Lee's grooves define the sound of the band. Khruangbin's at its best when it keeps itself moving; some of the more out there meditations wander a bit. Those later tracks don't dissipate, but it makes sense to let Lee do her thing. Regardless of the style of any given song, the production keeps plenty of space, and the lack of crowding aids the album's explorations while revealing the connection between the three musicians, making for a smooth, collective listen.  

Justin Cober-Lake

  The Railsplitters — Jump In (self-released)

The Railsplitters, with their loose feel and roots in tradition, don't seem like a statement-making sort of band. Their play with bluegrass boundaries challenges style while letting each musician make his or her case musically, with banjo player Dusty Rider usually at the fore. The group's collaborative talent stands out, too, as they've quickly developed their sound. Jump In, though, is singer Lauren Stovall's album. Not only does her voice effortlessly fit the performances, but she has a number of timely (yet not didactic) statements to deliver. She sounds fed up. When she dismisses a bad partner on “Lesson I've Learned,” it initially reads as just as a kiss-off, but her voice develops across the album. “To Do” raises questions about identity, position, and self-definition. The memorable “Somethin' Sweet” manages to fit the #metoo era without while remaining audibly light and catchy. Stovall sounds like she's arrived and knows exactly who she is. She closes with “Baxses,” a song about the dire need for forgiveness that lets the album complete the group's vision, an approach that's both broad-hearted and sonically open.  

Justin Cober-Lake

  Swiftumz — Game Six (Fruits & Flowers)

Game Six by Swiftumz

Appearances can be deceiving. The just-folks sleeve image, baby-talk name, and Bats-like lilt of “Game Six” make this feel like something you’d have bought from the Ajax Records catalog c. 1996, maybe in the same batch with a new Lois or Olivia Tremor Control record. But tune into the story behind the winsome melody and you’ll hear an acknowledgement of a friend’s death, numbly registered before you switch back to the game because… well what does a guy do? The B-side has a more frankly narcotic vibe with a reverb-laden guitar solo that pushes from the edge of sleep to a place of ineffable sadness, which raises the question — just how did that guy die?

Bill Meyer

 Various Artists — Entertaining the Invalid: 80% Falschwave Blitzkrieg! (Hot Air)

ENTERTAINING the INVALID by The Flying Eyes

This diverting compilation purports to sample from a bunch of synthy, weirdo post-punk records put out by obscure players in and around Manchester, c. 1980. But given the comp’s subtitle, it could all be the pranksome work of the comp’s curator (or “curator”), Matt Wand, of Stock, Hausen, and Walkman semi-fame. Falschwave? It’s hard to know for sure — the interwebs aren’t forthcoming with info about the alleged artists. And the insert booklet that Wand has prepared is a lot more interested in Matt Wand than it is in passing along scraps of info about bands. It may be a sort of in-jokey love letter to a scene, a time, a feeling evoked by some obscure 7 inches in a dusty bin by the stereo stand. In any case, the most interesting stuff is credited to the Flying Eyes, Low Odour, and Kalte Insel. There are also two songs of soul-crushed anti-jazz by an act called Witness to Fatigue (or W2F). “DESIRE [frozen]” is a strangely effective piece of work, whatever its provenance. Favorite band name: Arthur Appliance and the Warm Suds. Favorite song title: “i smell burnt ear hair.” That about sums it up. 

Jonathan Shaw

 Matt Weston — Searchlight Sings (7272 Music)

Searchlight Swings by Matt Weston

Now that 7” singles cost more dollars than LPs used to, there are just two reasons to make them — quixotic amour and aesthetic necessity. This single exemplifies both. Matt Weston is currently based in upstate New York, but he grew up in the Midwest at a time when kids still put 45s on little record players and cranked them up for their friends. He knows first hand what a gas it is to put the fuzzy needle on, say, “Magic Bus” or “Dream Police” before you head out to the school bus.  But this single is no mere nostalgia trip. The grown-up Weston is an improviser, electro-acoustic composer and multi-instrumentalist (albeit still a drummer at heart) as well as a rock and roller (albeit more mod than rocker). He knows that while singles never really caught on in the free jazz and experimental music worlds, there’s something uniquely communicative about a brief blast of densely packed sonic information. On this record you’ll hear extensions of free jazz blowing, hip-hop drumming and that razor-sharp static groove thing that Cabaret Voltaire did for a minute before they went disco. Two tracks, each under two and a half minutes, each packed with more event than recent presidential press conferences, but designed to enhance rather than deaden the senses — what more could you ask from seven inches of vinyl?

Bill Meyer

[krinsbez]

Book Recommendations: Da Big List, Non-Fiction Edition

(same disclaimer applies)

-The Seven Lives of Colonel Patterson: How an Irish Lion Hunter Led the Jewish Legion to Victory by Denis Brian. A slim biography of Colonel John Henry Patterson, a man who, among other things, led the hunt for not one but TWO man-eating lions, got involved in a scandal that inspired a story by Hemingway, and helped form what eventually evolved into the core of the Israeli Defense Force. -The Dead Travel Fast: Stalking Vampires from Nosferatu to Count Chocula by Eric Nuzum. A fun little book in which the author tries to explore vampires in pop culture from every possible angle (at the time; it was written pre-Twilight); he goes on a tour of Transylvania, visits a Dark Shadows con, watches all of Buffy, reads Dracula and Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, plays Vampire: The Masquerade, works as a vampire at a haunted house, makes a noble effort to watch every vampire movie ever made, and more. -Popular Crime: Reflections on the Celebration of Violence by Bill James. A somewhat weightier tome, in which the creator of sabermetrics turns his attention from studying baseball to studying murder, or at least the pop culture appreciation of murder. It's rather more entertaining than you'd expect, and includes lots of good stuff; my favorites are how he explains that it is simultaneously impossible for Lizzie Borden to have murdered her parents AND for anyone else to have done it, and the bit at the end when he suggests a novel approach to prison reform. -The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America by Erik Larson. You've probably heard of this one, which explores the efforts to build the 1893 Chicago World's Fair and juxtaposes 'em with the crimes of serial killer H. H. Holmes in the same time and place. -The Golden Age of Quackery by Stuart H. Holbrook. Everything you can ever want to know about the age of patent medicines is in this book. -Sacred Monsters: Mysterious and Mythical Creatures of Scripture, Talmud, and Midrash by Rabbi Natan Slifkin. In this book, banned by several Haredi Rabbis, the author discusses various creatures mentioned in Jewish holy texts that are known not to exist and tries to figure out what it's talking about; was the term for a mundane creature mistranslated? was it a metaphor? or were the Sages of old mistaken? -1920: The Year of the Six Presidents by David Pietrusza. A fascinating look at the US presidential race for 1920, in which, as the title notes, six men who were or would become President were majorly involved. -The Ten-Cent Plague: The Great Comic-Book Scare and How It Changed America by David Hadju. A marvelous book that is exactly what is says on the tin. -Gun Guys: A Road Trip by Dan Baum. In which a man who is somehow both a liberal and a gun-lover travels America exploring various facets of American gun culture. As close to an unbiased look on the subject you're liable to get, and fun besides. -Triumph in a White Suburb: The Dramatic Story of Teaneck, N.J., the First Town in the Nation to Vote for Integrated Schools by Reginald G. Damerell. Exactly what it says on the tin. Admission; I have family in Teaneck (though they moved in much later), so my enjoyment of the book may have been skewed. -Death in the City of Light: The Serial Killer of Nazi-Occupied Paris by David King. As it says, the tale of a serial killer who used the climate of fear created by the Nazi occupation of Paris to lure his victims and cover up his crimes, and afterwards tried to escape justice by claiming to be a resistance fighter. -The Forger's Spell: A True Story of Vermeer, Nazis, and the Greatest Art Hoax of the Twentieth Century by Edward Dolnick. The tale of Dutch art forger Hans van Meegren, who's counterfeit Vermeers were only exposed when he was put on trial for selling one to Goering. -Operation Mincemeat: The True Spy Story That Changed the Course of WWII by Ben Macintyre. The story of how British Intelligence used a corpse to convince the Nazis that the Allies were planning to invade Sardinia instead of Sicily. -Charlemagne's Tablecloth: A Piquant History of Feasting by Nichola Fletcher. As the subtitle suggests, this book looks at feasting throughout history, exploring not only what people of different times and places chose to ate when they feasted and why, but the cultural activities that accompanied the eating. -Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time by Dava Sobel. Tells the story of the 18th Cenutry quest to create a reliable method of telling time at sea, and of John Harrison, the man whose invention of the chronometer solved the problem. The book was later re-released as The Illustrated Longitude, with a lavish array of photos and such, which is what I read. -Why Did the Chicken Cross the World?: The Epic Saga of the Bird That Powers Civilization by Andrew Lawler. In which the origins of the world's most common barnyard fowl are explored and it's surprisingly powerful impact on history are explicated. -Connections by James Burke. Written as companion to a 1978 TV documentary, this is a marvelous history of science and invention, showing how seemingly disparate discoveries and events led to many of the cornerstones of the modern world. -A. J. Jacobs is a writer for Esquire magazine who will periodically spend a year doing...something, and then write a book about the experience, spiced up with interviews with relevant experts. I've read four of these books; they are vastly better than they have any right to be and I adore them. In order (seriously, read them in order, some of the best stuff is seeing what lifestyle changes stick between stunts), they are The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest To Become the Smartest Person in the World (in which he reads the entire Encyclopedia Britannica); The Year of Living Biblically: One Man's Humble Quest To Follow The Bible As Literally As Possible (the subtitle is fairly self-explanatory); The Guinea Pig Diaries: My Life As An Experiment (a collection of shorter stunts, EG the time he impersonated a C-List movie star and crashed the Oscars, a week where he tried to live according to the precepts of Radical Honesty, stuff like that); Drop Dead Healthy: One Man's Humble Quest For Bodily Perfection (where he tries out a bunch of fad diets and exercise regimes and so forth); and It's All Relative: Adventures Up and Down the World's Family Tree (genealogy, the fact that ultimately everyone is related ot everyone else, which fact leads him to attempt to create a "Global Family Reunion") -Moveable Feasts: From Ancient Rome to the 21st Century, the Incredible Journeys of the Food We Eat by Sarah Murray. A collection of essays that explores, of all subjects, the transportation of food. Ranging from ancient Roman amphorae to modern refrigerated shipping containers, and subjects as diverse as the influence of the grain elevators of Buffalo, New York on Bauhaus architecture, the logistics of the Berlin Airlift, and the science of making MREs. -The Fortune Cookie Chronicles: Adventures in the World of Chinese Food by Jennifer 8 Lee (no, that's not a typo, her middle initial is the number eight). This is another one of those "layman author looks at a particular subject from a wide array of angles" books that I'm so fond of. In this case, as the title suggests, the subject is Chinese food, ranging from investigating the true origins of the fortune cookie and discovering who the hell General Tso was to documenting how running a Chinese restaurant caused one immigrant family to disintegrate and delving into the Great Kosher Duck Scandal of 1989. -Kosher Nation: Why More and More of America's Food Answers To A Higher Authority by Susie Fishkoff. And speaking of Kosher food, that's the subject here. I admit to being somewhat biased for obvious reasons, but this is actually a really interesting subject, and there's a lot of ground here for Fishkoff to cover; the Agriprocessors scandal, the current "kosher revival" in the Reform and Conservative movements, the intersection of Jewish kashrut and Islamic halal, the sometimes surprisingly cutthroat competition between kosher certification agencies, not to mention the nitty-gritty details of being a kashrut supervisor from the Midwest to China. -Brainiac: Adventures in the Curious, Competitive, Compulsive World of Trivia Buffs by Ken Jennings. After achieving national prominence for having the longest winning streak in the history of the game show Jeopardy!, Ken Jennings was naturally paid to write a book about it. Rather than simply produce a memoir of his experience, he decided to explore the world of trivia in general. The result is thoroughly entertaining, and of course introduces one to loads of fascinating, if useless, information. He later went on to write Maphead: Charting the Wide Weird World of Geography Wonks, which is equally entertaining. -Supergods: What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, and A Sun God from Smallville Can Teach Us About Being Human by Grant Morrison. This one's actually a bit difficult to define; it's partially a history of superhero comics, partially the autobiography of an acclaimed comics writer, and partially a somewhat rambling philosophical interrogation of superhero comics. It's great fun AND makes you look at certain aspects of superherodom in new ways. -Storm Kings: The Untold History of America's First Tornado Chasers by Lee Sandlin. This book chronicles the long and twisted path of tornado research. While it starts with the first documented cyclones of colonial America, the bulk of the text is taken up covering the great scientific debates of the early and mid 19th century over the nature of tornadoes. Men long forgotten, such as Espy, Hare, and Redfield are brought back to life, along with their bitter rivalries. Later sections on the efforts of the Army Signal Corps to predicate tornadoes and of the political battles on the nature of weather forecasting are equally fascinating, though are cut somewhat short - I really wish the book lasted a bit longer. Either way, Storm Kings was a truly great look at a little-known facet of history. (NOTE: This review was originally written by Alamo, but I second every word) -The Inventor and the Tycoon: A Gilded Age Murder and the Birth of Moving Pictures by Edward Ball. You've probably heard of the story about how the motion-picture was invented, and how it involved a bet made by the Governor of California on how horses galloped. However, the tale of Eadweard Muybridge, the actual inventor, is often ignored, or glossed over. As one reads this book, the reasons for that become increasingly clear. Ball chronicles the long and twisted journey that brought Muybridge from his native Britain to the wild west, and the then-famous murder he committed. (NOTE: This review was also originally written by Alamo, but again I completely agree) -Priceless: How I Went Undercover to Rescue the World's Stolen Treasures by Robert K. Wittman. This is an inside look at the FBI's efforts to recover rare pieces of art and antiquities. (NOTE: This one was also one of Alamo's, etc.) -The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore. A fascinating biography of William Moulton Marston, the idiosyncratic creator of the world's most famous superheroine. Really fascinating stuff. -Banquet at Delmonico's: Great Minds, the Gilded Age, and the Triumph of Evolution In America by Barry Werth. The story of how the theory of evolution became accepted a smainstream by the American elite, and the corollary origins of Social Darwinism. -Engines of Change: A History of the American Dream in Fifteen Cars by Paul Ingrassia. Honestly, the subtitle is fairly self-explanatory. -The Great Detective: The Amazing Rise and Immortal Life of Sherlock Holmes by Zach Dundas. This is another one of those "layman author looks at subject from multiple angles" books, that I'm so fond of. Very well written, occasional insightful, and with lots of cool trivia.

[espithewarlock]

y'all...in the last 24 hours I have received not just one but two comments on the same fic that is more than a year old and it has made my fucking week.

Kudos and comments are never required and always appreciated. Love you all so much! Thank you for taking the time to read the stories I put out in the world!! 💚

[espithewarlock]

Just read "I'll let you give it to me" and ohhhh my God that was so good? And so hot? Your brain >>>>>

Actually speechless

Hello! Thank you for the ask and double thank you for the compliment!! I actually have a lot to say on the matter, so forgive me for using your ask to do it.

So I'm going to be perfectly honest and admit that I'll Let You Give It To Me, despite being a PWP, was a struggle to finish. I started writing it almost immediately after posting Croissants in Abu Dhabi and was finally able to pick it back up and finish it this weekend.

Part of the reason I set it down was because I got distracted writing other things (Baker!Pierre & 1016 Week prompts were happening around that time) and the other part is due to the comments I was getting on I’ve Got a Feeling That I’m Not Complete Anymore.

They were, to put it bluntly, mean.

There was about 24 hours that I spent crying on & off about them and I couldn't write a word of anything for 2 weeks. (That's not an exaggeration.)

The problem was, the comments weren't wrong. The commenters were mad about actions the characters were taking and, unfortunately, directing that anger at me, the author. (I haven't deleted any of those comments by the way, so they can be read on AO3.)

The characters that I wrote into that fic...they're far from perfect. Pierre is more than a little selfish and inconsiderate, Charles is definitely an enabler and has his own selfish moments, and Max is completely hypocritical about what he wants.

I wanted to write about a messy relationship and...well...I did.

That's why I haven't deleted the comments. They're correct on multiple fronts. I just wish those commenters had the presence of mind to consider the impact their harsh words would have on me. (Recognizing that this is a selfish request on my part but, well, it is my writing.)

They're supposed to be mad at the characters, they're supposed to want better for them, and they're supposed to see how those characters try and improve themselves, even if it isn't perfect.

I don't know about anyone else, but I think perfection in relationships is a) impossible and b) boring.

I'd also be remiss if I didn't thank the wonderful, amazing, @duquesademiel for being incredible. She dedicated an entire day to reading my fic and, essentially, live reacting to it in my DMs. (Plus, she left the most amazing comment on the final chapter that makes me 🥰)

That completely reignited my love for this universe and helped convince me to finish what I had started with this PWP.

So, yeah, this was just a smutty little one-shot for most people. For me, this is an accomplishment. I was able to set aside the negative comments and write something that brings me joy.

Hearing that it brought other people joy too is, as Max would put it, simply lovely. So thank you for taking time out of your day not just to read it, but to come here and tell me you enjoyed it. Positive comments and feedback like yours help motivate me to keep writing, and to keep improving my writing. 💚

[espithewarlock]

Fun Facts with Espi!

So I'm writing this as I have officially loaded the last chapter of my Charles/Max/Pierre Soulmark AU into AO3 and I feel like doing a fic debrief?

I'm weird about a lot of things and long author's notes are one of those things so I'm here rambling on Tumblr instead. For those who may or may not be interested.

Anyways, writing this fic was a process. I had the idea a long time ago, stopped it to write the entirety of my Piarles Mermaid AU, picked it up again, paused to write 90% of the Carlando Coffeeshop AU that's a companion fic to the Mermaid AU, picked it up again, paused to write 'A Gift for a Gift' in a fever dream, picked it up again, paused to write some of an A/B/O fic, and then finally had the motivation to finish it.

(So, if anything feels disconnected, I'm sorry. I tried my best.)

Fun Fact #1 - The Brain Cells Discord chat was the first part of this fic I wrote and is honestly one of my favorite scenes. I just love the idea of all of them being chaotic horny gremlins in a private online space. (Also, my Google Doc is just called 'The Brain Cells')

Fun Fact #2 - I planned for this fic to be rated T, which is why all of the early Piarles scenes are all 'fade to black' kind of sex. Then Chapter 16 happened and all three got horny for each other. So fuck it, it's an Explicit fic now. I don't make the rules.

Overall I'm really happy with how this fic turned out. It's the longest thing I've posted and I did enjoy writing it. Write what you want to read and all that.

Fun Fact #3 - Speaking of, I don't post WIPs because I don't read WIPs. That's a personal preference and I have a ton of admiration for the authors with the confidence to post works in progress. That's awesome and I can't wait to read your fic when it hits Complete status.

I've just been burned one too many times by fantastic stories where the author stopped updating for any number of reasons, so I never want to be that sort of author.

If I start posting a chaptered fic that's not a snippet/side-story collection, know that the full story is written and will be posted pending editing and/or nuclear apocalypse.

So, for anyone who likes my stuff (???) and wants to know what's coming up, here's what I've got in progress, in no particular order:

The previously-mentioned Carlando Coffeeshop AU (with background Piarles). It's a companion fic (not a sequel) to my Mermaid AU, takes place at roughly the same time but covers a lot of the on-land activities and Lando being a disaster over Carlos. It's almost finished, pending literally half an epilogue, so if that sounds fun then come yell at me to finish it.

The previously-mentioned A/B/O fic. I honestly thought I would never be the sort of author to dip my toes into A/B/O but I was bit by an inspiration bug. It's a Maxiel fic (AU-Non-F1 drivers) with Max POV for the whole thing. There is also plenty of established Piarles and Carlando, with Lewis, Alex, George, and other familiar faces rounding out the pack. That's a much longer way off, sitting at maybe 50% right now, but the broad plot is outlined and I have scenes occupying real estate in my head.

A Max/Pierre kinda-soulmark oneshot. It's an AU in an interesting world that I want to keep exploring in prompt/snippet format. This one is actually finished, but I want to wait to post it until I have the time to respond and write the companion snippets & prompts I might receive from you lovely people. Or from my own head.

Companion oneshots to ~this~ Soulmark AU. I already have one completed that's Danny Ric POV that takes place between chapter 16 & 17. Basically, Daniel wants to be a good friend and comfort Max after the Saudi GP, busts into his hotel room, finds a mostly-naked Pierre, assumes that Pierre is cheating on Charles, then very rapidly has the truth paraded in front of him. (I mean, come on Daniel. Really? Pierre is so horny for Charles that it's not funny.) This one is also finished and will likely be posted in a couple of days.

The other companion oneshot I have floating around my head is Charles POV and is just PWP, filthy explicit sexy times between the three of them. If you liked Chapter 16, yell at me to work on this one next.

Another PWP explicit sexy times threesome oneshot, but this time it's Carlos/Charles/Pierre. Inspired by a comment I saw on that one pic of Pierre grabbing Carlos' chin during a press conference. You know the one. It's half-finished and I'd kinda like to have it done to post in time for kinktober. (There's bondage. It's fun.) I don't really have the inclination to ~participate~ in kinktober, but I figure there's no harm in increasing the general smut that's available.

Another chaptered threesome soulmark-AU, but this time featuring Lefrere incest! It starts off Pierre/Charles with a very platonic, brotherly Arthur being jealous (envious?) of their relationship/soulmarks. He pushes those inappropriate feelings down (or tries to) until he gets a soulmark that matches theirs. They all panic and have to navigate ~whatever this is~ together. This is also finished, but I know people are weird about incest and doubly weird about RPF incest. Honestly, I felt weird writing it but it was stuck in my brain and demanded to be written. If this sounds like something you'd read, let me know and I'll consider posting it.

Anyways, that's what I've got going on right now. If you've made it this far, congrats! (Also, why???)

Like, I'm still reeling over the fact that people not only read my fics? but leave kudos?? and comment??? It's so nice what the heck????

Again, I write what I want to read and it's mind-boggling that other people want to read it too.

If you made a comment on AO3 that you actually want me to reply/respond to, ask me here on Tumblr! I mostly lurk, but you might be able to drag me out from under my rock.

Fun Fact #4 - I'm very awkward about replying to comments on AO3. I do see them and am deeply appreciative for everyone who takes the time to comment. I just don't like increasing the comment count by replying. Something about that makes my brain itch. I love authors who interact with their fans directly in comments, I'm just never going to be one of them.

So, if you like, let me know your thoughts! Anything you want me to respond to about this Soulmark-AU? Who do you think Lewis' soulmate is? Is Max actually a full-time problem? (Yes.) Is there a particular fic in the list above that you're more interested in than others? Want to know what else I'm weird about? Ask away!

Do I need to write shorter posts? (Also yes.)