#Sword and planet

[omercifulheaves]

Dejah Thoris Art by William Stout

[vintagegeekculture]

Marcus Boas’s paintings of Leigh Brackett’s “Lorelei of the Red Mists.” 

Just like comic book fans tend to start, when young, with Archie Comics, then move on to Superman and Batman, and then, finally, challenging books like X-Men and Daredevil in their early teens, Sword & Planet devotees usually start by reading John Carter of Mars around 8-13, then in their teen years, get into the moodier, darker and atmospheric Leigh Brackett and L. Sprague de Camp. 

[would-they-listen-to-that]

Could I get a selfship playlist with Mermista from She-Ra and the Princesses Of Power?

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ here you go, caller! RAAAAH MERMAID SUPREMACY!!!!

Where We Belong - Kate Alexa

Mermaid - Skott

Swimming - Florence + the Machine

True Love - P!nk ft. Lily Allen

Heart Attack - Demi Lovato

I Think I'm in Love - Kat Dahlia

If U Seek Amy - Britney Spears

First Love/Late Spring - Mitski

You were Meant for Me - Jewel

Lovers Lane - Elizabeth Mitchell

thanks for dialing in!

[jack-of-crowns]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

'The Deep Moans Round With Many Voices' by @jack-of-crowns

Ulysse closes his mind to the frothy cacophony on the command deck and dives deep within himself to yon jou ete, sliding beneath cerulean waves down the wrought iron chains of the 'Aurore' anchored above him. He is back home on Antilles Prime; he and granpapa have rowed out on this fine summer's morning to the corvette, and all is bon bagay.

The memories rise slowly, a school of goliath grouper drifting upwards from flooded mangroves. "Regardde, mon petit," granpapa says, "An anchor is more than metal and chain. It is a konvésasyon between the vessel above and the seas beneath." Ulysse remembers the hot gleam of young double suns on water, the flukes of the anchor biting into the sea floor in a cloud of silt, the snap of that moment of taut stillness amid constant motion.

Claudine, his navigation officer, stares unseeingly , streams of quantum data weeping from her torn mind. She had plotted the deep space courses of the 'Luminaire', tracking anomalies out on the spinward rim. "Capitaine Vincennes," soft and low. Ulysse should have warned them, should have warned them all, that space is never truly empty. An inexperienced crew he had taken out for training.

Their voices are all about him now, neither language nor sound but pure information. Entangled memories, celebration and mourning, futures forgotten, and possible pasts, all fragmented quanta adrift in the endless seas of spacetime. Martin, the xenolinguist, mutters to himself in a language between form and thought, fingers twitching in impossible geometries. The Deep is speaking now, and it is destroying his crew.

He holds fast to firsts; most of the 'Luminaire' are having their first interstellar jump. Their minds are receptive to the spells of the chronothurge at the helm, the calming chants that the automaton mage embeds within the neurocortex prior to psion expansion. He remembers his first love, Felix. Remembers what it felt like to be held as the dark energy roared all about you, a chaotic information storm comingled with one's own consciousness, and there was his partner, familiar presence in the strange, the taste of warm cassava bread in a kiss.

"An anchor holds. An anchor connects." Ulysse is the captain of this ship now, and he must be the anchor. He must anchor the psyches of his crew, soti nan lanmou li, and hold them fast. And so he does; because he himself was held fast in the Deep that first jump out of love, so he holds all the lost voices of his crew together in his psion-expanded consciousness in the depths of that timeless space. They are all together on a fine summer's morning in the depths of interstellar night, and all is bon bagay.

[victusinveritas]

Since Corben's first painting for the cover of Den was rejected (due to the nudity), he painted this second one, which became the one that was used as cover art. To get around the censorship, he gave the woman who is featured inside green skin resembling body make up.

Why Michael Chiklis is beating a crocodile guy to the point where CTE will definitely be a problem later is irrelevant.

[mysticforge]

Sketchbook Dino-rider! Having fun, learning a lot!

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Catgirl Sword and Planet

I should blame Flash Gordon for this. Though I hope to write something more along the lines of Andre Norton’s interstellar works, or Edgar Rice Burroughs’ John Carter of Mars; a story where  rayguns, spaceships, and psionic powers make each planet uniquely fair and perilous. Or, again, possibly along the lines of “Bride of Chaotica”. Because that was fun.

But at the moment I’m blaming Flash Gordon (1936). Not to diss anyone’s childhood fun. If there weren’t some fun stuff in it I wouldn’t keep watching even 20-minute episodes. And yet....

And yet. Well. I think I’ve finally tracked down part of my grumps to, “Why can’t this have as coherent a plot and characters as Tarzan or Conan? They were comics too!”

Which is, honestly, unfair. First, those two were made into comic books, not weekly newspaper serials. I grant you Prince Valiant was amazingly coherent over long periods of time, but it’s more like expecting Garfield to have a long-running tight plot.

Second - Tarzan and Conan were books first. Of course their writers had to be more organized, or readers would have wandered off after the third Mad Science Plot Device.

(So many in Flash Gordon. So many.)

Meaning I’m frustrated because I keep expecting it to be something it’s really, really not. Probably made worse in growing up with Doctor Who; now there was a serial that had well-written characters!

But I’m also frustrated because there are elements in it that’d be fascinating in another setting. Lion-men, shark-men, bird-men! Flying and underwater cities. Horrific monsters, uncanny science, and unashamedly Evil Overlords. Elements, in fact, that would work splendidly in the Sword and Planet subgenre of SF. If that doesn’t ring a bell, consider that it includes much of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ books (the Barsoom series being best known, I recc’ the movie John Carter of Mars). I would also fit many of Andre Norton’s books in here; The Beast Master, Lord of Thunder, and Catseye in particular.

A catgirl native to a Sword and Planet setting could be interesting indeed. And the genre already allows for isekai’d heroes in it!

At the moment bunnies are leaning toward a group isekai of some kind. With at least one guy expecting it to go to formula (harems, power leveling, etc.) and a more sane guy who ends up teaming up with the catgirl and being a valiant hero. Possibly also a birdman in the group, Because.

Sword and Planet also has a heavy emphasis on exotic cultures (yay costumes!), hand-to-hand combat with Weird Powers (psychic, qi manipulation, any way you slice it wuxia stunts are possible), and on-planet adventures in cities and wild alike. No boring interstellar trips here!

I don’t yet have any solid ideas what the Sane Guy should be like or how they all got there, outside of considering him as Swordsman to the catgirl’s Sorceress. Meaning I need to figure out how he could know or learn swordfighting when I think he starts as a more average guy....

Anyway. Getting some thoughts down so that when another project isn’t eating my brain, I might tackle this one. As well as Druid. And Hunted by Unicorns. And....

Drat. Must write faster.

[figcatlists]

Sword and sorcery, planetary romance, and Dying Earth books

A list of classic pulp fantasy books in the vein of Conan, John Carter of Mars, and Cugel the Clever, as well as later novels and stories that expand on or subvert their tropes. For more information and useful links, check out the full version of this list. Come for book recommendations, stay for vintage cover art!

Many of these books were cited as inspirations for Advanced Dungeons & Dragons by Gary Gygax in the famous Appendix N and are still popular among fantasy RPG players.

[shelandsorcery]

Summon the strength of millenniums past

Forged by the fire and flame

I am the weapon of empires vast

Immortal is more than a name

12 x 16" mixed media on 300gsm paper; pencil, watercolour, pencil crayon (aka coloured pencil), and workable fixative to seal and rework and seal again.

[kckramer]

Also what are the names of your short stories? I wanna read em

Yeah! So, my one short story is "Sofia Serrento's Flying Circus and the Sky Pirates of Shanghai," which is published in the anthology Hell Hath No Fury: New Pulp Heroines. The other one is titled "The Godkings' Tomb," and it is published in Broadswords and Blasters Presents...Futures That Never Were. These and my standalone 5e adventure can be found linked here

[dynasoar5]

tanah drawings 2021

[omercifulheaves]

Thuvia, Maid of Mars Art by William Stout

[schlock-luster-video]

On December 30, 1983, Krull debuted in Ireland.

Here's some new art inspired by the sword and planet classic!

[would-they-listen-to-that]

Omg I WOULD LOVE TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS THE PLAYLIST THING IS SUCH A COOL IDEA UHHH COULD YOU DO

Double Trouble (2018 shera) x oc 💚💚💚

I hope I did this right, XDDD

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ thank you! yep, you're doing it right! here you go, caller!

Toxic - Britney Spears

Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic

Girls in Bikinis - Poppy

Baby Hotline - Jack Stauber

Hit and Run - LOLO

Cannibal - Kesha

space girl - Frances Forever

Animal - Neon Trees

Photo ID - Remi Wolf

Oops! ... I Did It Again - Britney Spears

thanks for dialing in!

[jack-of-crowns]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

'The Sum Of Our Tomorrows' by @jack-of-crowns

The granularity of hope arrives in quarks and whispers. The quintessence of Vincennes registers this, not within the exactitude of a final linearity but in each of the plancks that precede such seeming inevitabilities, those moments where probabilities tremble. Felix wordlessly mouths an anguished syllable right before the hull shields crumple, and that will still happen this time. One infinitesimal difference is the tentacular interfaces of the strange graybody on the viscreen monitor as it pulses with triumph; the rhythms are registering a thousandth hertz lower than the previous iteration. It might just be temporal psychosis at this point, but then again, psychosis might just be the mechanism of hope.

Every cycle of the quantum gravity time loop that monster has them trapped within plays and replays with the same certain metas. Their interceptor responds to the distress beacon from an autonomous extractor mining rubidium bosons from the ghost gases near the Gaia singularity. Of course, it's a graybody trap, and the freighter has already been tractored below the event horizon by the time they arrive. Reversing their psion drivers fails to dislodge it, and they fall into the strange themselves and right into the stickytime trap. Spatiotemporal compression does the rest, and Vincennes gets to experience not only defeat but the death of the only man he has ever loved over and over again. Except.

Except for the certainty that there is no certainty when you're in the strange. That linear narrative, that was what existed above the horizon. Spacetime is different here. Not the flow and pull of currents and waves but crystalline; infinite facets on an inconstant gem, all dust and polish. And each recut, Vincennes is beginning to realize, leaves a residue of possibilities. Death and defeat are only inevitabilities if he keeps fighting them and that graybody warlock inside of stickytime, pulling at the strings of every thread of probability that might lead to a way out. Even graybodys, masters of reality from the darkest stars of alternity, can not foresee and control every probability, and in the darkness comes a whisper.

"We are the sum of our tomorrows." His eyes had held such a beautiful sheen when he'd breathed that, laying in the bunk together, afterwards. Vincennes was half-awake, drowsy, lingering in the glow.

"How do you mean by that, lover?"

"Think about it." The steady ticking of the chronothurge had slowed; they were nearly ready to condense into conventional spacetime again. "When exactly are we right now- I mean, isn't that a better question than where?" He slipped his tunic on. "Knowing where the pirates are doesn't change the fact that you have to know when to go after them."

"Isn't that what the chronothurge does, or am I missing the point of having an automaton mage at the helm of our interceptor," Vincennes countered.

"Yes, but without our scroll recalibration between jumps, the graybodys are going to be able to clair out our next move before we make it. Each time we add our slight imprecisions to 'thurge's spellcraft-"

"-we introduce the necessary uncertainties. One infinitesimal variable becomes exponentially more difficult to defend. I know, I know. I'll get right to it."

But he hasn't, at least until he hears that whisper, that insistent whisper; Felix reminding him that what becomes of us tomorrow is what we came to do today. Vincennes performs the recalibration, and the loop has become a thousandth less certain. Again and again, one thousandth becoming one hundredth becoming one tenth becoming reality. The fear in those beautiful blue eyes of Felix gradually morphs into hope, wave after wave of minute changes rippling outward to effect an escape vector. A few more quarks in the psion drivers each cycle, enriching the admixtures; the graybodys tractor weakens and fades, their vessel breaks free of the strange with the freighter in tow. Vincennes looks over at the jumpseat next to him and grins.

"Tomorrow's looking better by the minute, partner."

[igotopinions]

Magazine Month (tm) continues here at SIWAN as we speak with Matthew Gomez of Broadswords & Blasters about the life, death, and rebirth of the SFF magazine he co-edits.

Broadswords & Blasters (Facebook) Matthew Gomez's author site (Twitter)

www.soimwritinganovel.com

PATREON: www.patreon.com/soimwritinganovel

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