#PLEASE READ SAMUEL R DELANEY

[legitimate-salvage]

Africa Risen: A New Era of Speculative Fiction. It’s a sci-fi anthology “showcasing the breadth of fantasy and science fiction from Africa and the African Diaspora” I cannot recommend this book enough everything in it is an absolute banger

The Memory Librarian: and other stories of Dirty Computer. Based on Janelle Monáe’s album, Doet Computer it’s a sci-fi anthology of stories from that world. It’s really fucking good I’m a big fan of musicians doing world building with their music and she really takes it to the next level with this book. You don’t necessarily need to know the story of Dirty Computer to read this but I would highly recommend.

The Machine Mandate series by Benjanun Sriduangkaew. I have never seen mastery of language like this and the world she’s built out is fucking incredible. All 10 (? I think. There’s 6 main books and a couple prequel) are so beautiful and I think all novellas.

I will absolutely second anything by Samuel R Delaney. I’m particularly partial to Empire Star, Driftglass and Babel-17. He’s my favourite author of all time and everything I’ve read by him is so good. The kind where you finish the story and you have to sit there for 3-5 business days to really absorb it.

PLEASE for the love of the universe read anti-colonial science fiction and fantasy written from marginalized perspectives. Y’all (you know who you are) are killing me. To see people praise books about empire written exclusively by white women and then turn around and say you don’t know who Octavia Butler is or that you haven’t read any NK Jemisin or that Babel was too heavy-handed just kills me! I’m not saying you HAVE to enjoy specific books but there is such an obvious pattern here

Some of y’all love marginalized stories but you don’t give a fuck about marginalized creators and characters, and it shows. Like damn

[homosociallyyours]

I WANT TO YELL ABOUT ALL OF YOUR WIPS!!!!!!!!!!! Can I be greedy and pretty please ask about Tax Preparer Marcel/Stripper Louis, Cinema/cinnamon 80s- times square red, times square blue, AND Upper West Side (girl direction)???

OMG YES of course Maggie!! Thank you for asking!!

Tax Preparer Marcel/Stripper Louis: This was actually supposed to be part of last year's Reverse Bang, with art/prompt by @becomeawendybird and it's. SO GOOD!! I basically just took on too much and couldn't make the deadline, but the fic kinda just needs another ~500 words and final editing.

It's based on a tweet by H&R Block saying they can help strippers figure out tax write offs (but in a cute, catchy way), and I set it in SF with Louis dancing at the worker owned, union-led Lusty Lady (which is closed, sadly). Here's a snippet, and the rest of the answers, behind a read more:

“I just wanted to say it’s been a real pleasure working with you, Lou. And if you have any questions you can call me any time and I’ll help you out if I can.” She slid a copy of her business card across the desk, her personal number written carefully across the top. “I hope I’m not overstepping, I just--” 

“Oh, you’re not at all! I was actually taking my time with these papers trying to figure out how to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime. Or a drink, whatever.” Louis swiped her hair across her forehead, letting it fall artfully back into place. Her smile was soft and delicate, and Marcel felt like anything she could say in return would come out clumsy and awkward, but she had to try anyway. 

“I’d do whatever you wanted.” Her glasses slid down her nose as she looked down at her desk, not wanting to meet Louis’ eyes. “At least once tax season is over.” 

“So-- after April 15th, then?” Marcel nodded. “I’m going to hold you to it, Marce. Might even drag you to the Lusty one night since you said you’ve never been.” 

“Oh!” Marcie’s cheeks flamed, the thought of sitting in a booth with Louis in her lap filling every available space in her mind. “I did tell you that, didn’t I?” She was pretty sure if she saw Louis actually dancing she’d spontaneously combust, but that was the image that came to her mind next. She widened her eyes, trying to bring herself back into the moment. 

“You did, and you said you’d been meaning to do it for years.” Louis tightened the strap of her messenger bag, swinging it around to her back. Marcel refrained from staring at her tits, even if the strap pressing between them made them that much more prominent. “And honestly? I’ve told everyone I work with about you, so they’re all dying to meet you.” 

Cinema/Cinnamon/Times Square Red, Times Square Blue: So this is one that's just a fleshed out idea, but I REALLY wanna write it, so I hope I can make it happen. Basically when I first heard Cinema my first thought was that it sounded like Harry was saying "this enema" or "the cinnamon" instead of "the cinema" and of course that "you bring the pop" was about poppers. All of that plus cinema had me thinking about Samuel Delaney's Time Square Red, Times Square Blue, which talks about 1970/80s Times Square NYC and the porn theaters there as a gay space (I'm definitely oversimplfying; it's been years since I read the book and would wanna re-read before writing!)

Soooo. The plot is that Harry goes to the Times Square porn theaters regularly to anonymously get off with men there, but there's one guy in particular who it's always really good with-- a guy in a cap with long-ish hair who manages to keep his face hidden but who's always chewing cinnamon gum. It gets to the point that even smelling that warm cinnamon scent makes Harry's dick interested. Meanwhile, he takes a job in a restaurant kitchen in midtown. It's grunt work, and he mostly just keeps his head down until a new guy gets hired as a dishwasher. They strike up a friendship, and while walking downtown together after work, Louis pops in a stick of cinnamon gum as they pass the theaters (definitely a Pavlovian response).

Immediately Harry realizes that Louis is his cinnamon guy, but when he points it out Louis kinda freaks out and bolts. They do work it out, and it's not long before they're really getting to know each other/dating. After they've been together a minute they re-create their anonymous hook ups in the theater with Louis bringing poppers and the two of them fuck in the back. THAT'S ALL I'VE GOT

Upper West Side: This is a VERY old wip/start of a fic that's based on the King Princess song of the same name. It's set in NYC in the 90s. Here's the start of it:

They met at Clit Club on a Thursday night, the room more crowded than it should’ve been and “Push It” pounding out through the shitty speakers. Louis was high on the success of her drag show and covered in girls, but all she really wanted to do was dance. Find someone with a tight little ass and grind against her, taste the sweat rolling down their neck before she sucked a kiss there. Her favorite kind of calling card. 

She was about to go to the middle of the floor and let herself get lost in a sea of dykes, maybe find someone for a quick fuck in the bathroom, when the door opened, bringing a rush of cooler air from outside and grabbing her attention. A woman stood there, backlit by a streetlight and with long curls that made Louis want to get tangled up and pull. Louis squeezed her thighs together, thinking about getting this woman-- tall, femme, over-dressed for a bar like this, --up against the graffitied walls of the bathroom and finger fucking her until she was an absolute mess. 

There was no use wasting time. She walked over to the woman, who was still standing in the doorway, her eyes searching the crowded club as if she’d be able to find anyone she knew in the shadowed mass of dykes, and introduced herself. 

“You look lost. Like you might need a guide for the night,” she said, going on tiptoes to reach the woman’s ear. “I’m Lou.” 

“Harry,” the woman said, giving Louis a sidelong glance. “Don’t need a guide, but maybe you could get me a vodka soda? And a dance?” Her smile was a coy stretch of her wide, cherry red lips and a dart of her tongue, and fuck, that was enough to convince Louis she’d made the right move talking to this woman. 

[whifferdills]

omfg octavia butler's xenogenesis trilogy. i read them at a Significant Age & they had SUCH an impact on me. i would love to hear what you like about them, because i can never find someone else to talk about them with!

Yes!!! they're right up there with Samuel R Delaney's Dhalgren for me, the thematic reach and worldbuilding at such a human scale and how it focuses on intimacy, whether familial or sensual or even just your own understanding of yourself. & the like...the insistence on survival, no matter the odds, even if it changes you, even if the assimilation into the culture that colonized you is sometimes too much to bear. and then the whole, SF whizbangery of it.. i don't really care for works that create the world and then plunk the characters into it like it's a DnD game...everything is considered & interwoven into what the story is trying to say. but also it's all so fucking cool

Also! the gender! the gender. and the sex...Butler keeps reminding you that everyone is heterosexual but like, it's queer, it's weird monsterfucking queer sex and it is SO hot

please feel free to share your thoughts!!

[zinzinina]

tag nine people you want to get to know better!

thank you so much for the tag, @firstofficerwiggles and @smoldjarin! 💕

favourite colour: blush pink, emerald green, pale grey, midnight blue

currently reading: stars in my pocket like grains of sand - samuel r. delaney, peach - emma glass, innumerable sw fanfics

last song: up! - m83

last movie: godzilla vs. kong maybe? or a rewatch of the last unicorn

last series: the twin peaks reboot/sequel... sadly i wouldn't bother with it if i were you :(

currently craving: this extremely specific açai bowl with spinach, kale, cinnamon, banana and matcha green tea blended with açai & coconut, nuts and seeds on top, it's incredible

tea or coffee: g&tea

currently working on: honestly too many things :( like seriously please tell me what you want to see next; i'm so overwhelmed haha

i'll tag: @coruscant-commander @ohheyitsokay @pinkiemme @ifimayhaveaword @damerondjarin @justanotherstarwarswhore @royalstardustwrites @cannedsoupsucks @grumpymuffinmama @samrubio @cafeacademic @kittfisto @aesnawan

[billhodgesgallery]

Bill Hodges Gallery is pleased to present three booths in this year’s Hamptons Virtual Art Fair, September 2 to September 7. Our largest booth is previewed here and is titled, “African American Artists. It features 22 works by important African American artists including Sam Gilliam, Mickalene Thomas, Adam Pendleton and Lorna Simpson. Of particular interest is Sam Gilliam’s Renaissance I, a large-scale collage that layers various materials into a chaotic yet alluring three-dimensional sculptural painting. Upon exploring the booth you will find a range of works from intimate portraits to large abstract works that demonstrates the breadth of the gallery’s collection. ~ Sam Gilliam (b. 1933) Renaissance I, 1986 crylic, Enamel, Aluminum and Canvas Construction on Wood (in two parts) 75 x 90 x 7 in. Norman Lewis (1909 - 1979) Exodus, 1972 Oil on Canvas 72 x 88 1/2 in. Adam Pendleton (b. 1984) The Excited Verison (Reading Samuel R. Delany in No Particular Order), 2008 Silkscreen on Canvas 70 1/4 x 48 1/2 in. Richard Mayhew (1924 - ) Portrait Of A Young Man, ca. 1950s Oil on Canvas 24 1/8 x 18 1/8 in. Beauford Delaney (1901 – 1979) Untitled , 1963 Pastel on Paper 12 3/4 x 19 7/8 in. ~ #billhodgesgallery #gallery #nycgallery #artgallery #africanamericanartist #supportminorityartists #supportthearts #artworld #billhodges #billhodgesgallery #africanamerican #africanamericanart #blackartist #blackartists #africanamericanartists #blackexcellence #americanmaster #masterartist #samgilliam #normanlewis #adampendleton #mickalenethomas #lornasimpson #virtualexhibition #hamptonsvirtualartfair #artfair https://www.instagram.com/p/CEudgdeg1nZ/?igshid=vke1gja1rs1h

[alteredphoenix]

Outbreak (tentative title) (Part 1 of Sylvanas x Bolvar couplet fic)(WIP)

Warning: Spoilers for the Shadowlands cinematic shown at BlizzCon 2019, please be advised when reading.

A very rough germ of an idea not yet put down on a LibreOffice Writer document (YET) meant to connect where Poison left off, and would pick up once more running paralell with this and the Bolvar version, Virus, in a vein similar to Samuel R. Delaney’s “Dhalgren”, with this particular phrase describing the moment Sylvanas picks up the Helm of Domination:

“You could have it all.”

[herecomesnaya]

For the ask meme 3, 4, 20 please! I love your writing!

aww, thanks, anon! I just answered 20 down below, so I’ll do the other two here!

3. name three favorite writers

for fic, right? mine would have to be Skalidra, cadkitten, and Hammocker, but it’s soooo hard to choose. every time I see them post something, my face lights up! excellent characterization, and wonderful porn, too!

4. name three authors that were influential to your work and tell why

so putting aside the fanfic authors, bc pretty much every author I like ends up inspiring me, I’ll talk about my published author influences

1. Junji Ito. HUGE inspiration for both art and storytelling. I don’t often draw on him for my fic, since lol porn, but I definitely have his stuff in mind whenever I try to do something more horror-oriented (Take Off Your Skin and Dance With Me comes to mind).

his style of horror sits with you. it takes concepts you would never consider as horrifying — like spirals, or frequent apologies — and twists them into these heart-pounding tales of utter wrongness. I’m sure we all remember how we first felt upon seeing the DRR... DRR... DRR... page in The Enigma of Amigara Fault (go read it right now if you haven’t already). Army of One fills you with a feeling of that fear of solitude, of being the last one left when everyone else around you has gone insane. Hellstar Remina? for anyone already terrified of space, you’ll piss your pants.

I love the way he combines the Lovecraftian style of “things that shouldn’t exist and we’ll never understand” with relatable characters and settings. it’s absolutely my favorite, and I can only hope to be half as great as him someday!

2. Samuel R. Delaney. now THIS guy is porny. he goes harder than I ever have and ever will. Through the Valley of the Nest of Spiders is the only book my library system has just straight-up taken off the shelves, for being a veritable tome of nothing but the filthiest (literally and metaphorically), most offensive pornographic thing out there. I’m the only person I know of who managed to get through the whole thing. and I’m not bragging! I don’t blame everyone else for stopping ~5 pages in.

but here’s the thing with that: the book is absolutely FANTASTIC in terms of storytelling. it’s disgusting and strange, but my god the guy knows how to build a story arc and a world. so many distinct voices and colorful characters, and the book spans the MC’s entire life. Delaney is a sci-fi writer, so he also threw in some believable technological advances near the ends of the characters’ lives. and he captures the “towns grow and change” feeling perfectly.

I’ve also seen few published works truly explore the good sides of polyamorous relationships and sex-as-bonding. there’s a casual feel to the sex scenes that you don’t really get in other works, where sex is always this super-serious, end-all-be-all, for-close-partners-only deal. the characters are into each other and into sex, and that’s not a bad thing. if you can stomach it, I’d highly suggest it. please let me know if any of you would like me to give a more full list of warnings!

3. Patrick Ness. bit of a gear switch here, but very important all the same! you may know him from A Monster Calls, but I also love his YA series, Chaos Walking. never have I seen a more believable depiction of what it would be like if everyone could constantly hear each other’s thoughts, AND the characters’ voices are so spot-on that you can hear their dialects perfectly in your mind.

he has this way about his writing... A Monster Calls is a perfect depiction of grief, but unlike lots of other stories about it, this one introduces fantasy elements in a way that ups the intrigue. as a person who’s dealt with grief and read a lot of literature based on it, it’s good to see something so honest, but not completely ground in reality.

and Chaos Walking has sci-fi, a coming-of-age story, complicated wartime drama, cultural differences, the aforementioned mind-reading stuff, and seamlessly-woven-in gay characters (human AND alien) that I really like. the sort of casual “btw there are gay characters” thing is always good to see, where they can exist without a big OMG UR GAY??? fuss, y’know? and it’s just so gripping, story-wise... I dunno, I really like him.

AND THAT’S MY BIG LIBRARY EMPLOYEE BOOK BABBLE thanks for coming to my ted talk

[allplaideverything]

things were read (#247): Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delaney

Newboy waved a finger at the bartender for refills. "Some years ago in London, when I was much younger than the time between then and now would indicate, my Hampstead host winked at me through his sherry glass and asked if I would like to meet an American writer staying in the city. That afternoon I had to see an editor of an Arts Council subsidized magazine to which my host, the writer in question, and myself all contributed. I enjoy writers: their personalities intrigue me. I can talk about it in this detached way because I'm afraid I do so little of it myself now, that, though I presumptuously feel myself an artist at all times, I only consider myself a writer a month or so out of the year. On good years. At any rate, I agreed. The American writer was phoned to come over that evening. While I was waiting to go out, I picked up a magazine in which he had an article-- a description of his travels through Mexico-- and began the afternoon's preparation for the evening's encounter. The world is small: I had been hearing of this young man for two years. I had read his name in conjunction with my own in several places. But I had actually read no single piece by him before. I poured more sherry and turned to the article. It was impenetrable! I read on through the limpest recountings of passage through pointless scenery and unfocused meetings with vapid people. The judgments on the land were inane. The insights into the populace, had they been expressed with more energy, would have been a bit horrifying for their prejudice. Fortunately the prose was too dense for me to get through more than ten of the sixteen pages. I have always prided myself on my ability to read anything; I feel I must, as my own output is so small. But I put that article by! The strange machinery by which a reputation precedes its source we all know is faulty. Yet how much faith we put in it! I assumed I had received that necessary betrayal and took my carrier bag full of Christmas presents into London's winter mud. The editor in his last letter had invited me, jokingly, to Christmas dinner, and I had written an equally joking acceptance and then come, two thousand miles I believe, for a London holiday. Such schemes, delightful in the anticipation and the later retelling, have their drawbacks in present practice. I'd arrived three days in advance, and thought it best to deliver gifts in time for Christmas morning and allow my host to rejudge the size of his goose and add a plum or so to his pudding. At the door, back of an English green hall, I rang the bell. It was answered by this very large, very golden young man, who, when he spoke, was obviously American. Let me see how clearly I can remember the conversation. It contributes to the point. "I asked if my friends were in. "He said no, they were out for the afternoon; he was babysitting with their two daughters. "I said I just wanted to leave off some presents, and he could please tell them to expect me for dinner, Christmas day. "Oh, he said. You must be-- well, I'm going to be coming to see you this evening! "I laughed again, surprised. Very well, I said, I look forward to it. We shook hands, and I hurried off. He seemed affable and I gained interest in the coming meeting. First rule of behavior in the literary community: Never condemn a man in the living room for any indiscretion he has put on paper. The amount of charity you wish to extend to the living-room barbarian because of his literary excellence is a matter of your own temperament. My point, however, is that we exchanged no more than seventy-five or a hundred words. Virtually I only heard his voice. At any rate, back at Hampstead, as sherry gave way for redder wine, I happened to pick up the magazine with the writer's article. Well, I decided, I shall give it one more chance. I opened it and began to read." Newboy glared over the rim, set down the glass without looking at it and pressed his lips to a slash. "It was lucid, it was vivid, it was both arch and ironic. What I had taken for banality was the most delicate satire. The piece presented an excruciating vision of the conditions under which the country struggled, as well as the absurdity of the author's own position as an American and a tourist. It walked that terribly difficult line between grace and pathos. And all I had heard was his voice! It was retiring, the slightest bit effeminate, with a period and emphasis oddly awry with the great object of fresh water, redwoods, and Rockies who spoke with it. But what, simply, had happened was that now I could hear that voice informing the prose, supplying the emphasis here or there to unlock for me what previously had been as dense and graceless as a telephone directory. I have delighted in all of this writer's work since with exquisite enjoyment!" Newboy took another sip. (p160-162)

[alteredphoenix]

Virus (WIP)(Part 2 of Sylvanas x Bolvar couplet fic)

Warning: Spoilers for the Shadowlands cinematic shown at BlizzCon 2019, please be advised when reading.

The opening line of this story, which runs parallel with Outbreak (the Sylvanas version), immediately picking up where Poison left off, in the vein of Samuel R. Delaney’s “Dhalgren”:

“[And] When next he sees her again, several years later, she comes before him wrapped in a cloak of swirling darkness, walks with the slow, sure steps of a woman who dares to take the gods by the throat and crush them in her hands.“