#but this is the first time someone's died who is personally important to ylva

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

OUHGBHH? EVIL CHOICE ;__;

[delirious-comfort]

Regarding Shadow Haven.

You know when something happens and to many people it’s insignificant, but to you... it’s destructive. Painful. And people say, “Don’t give it more attention than it deserves,” but you’re silently fuming because it takes all your attention?

That’s me right now. That has been me all day every since I saw the post. One small comment, one giant accusation. 

Now I can do two things. Post the screenshot here or not post the screenshot. Because the third option? To walk away silently? I can’t do that. 

Today I scrolled through a group on Facebook and read the comments. It was about SQ fics that got turned into a books. Obviously, mine is one of those. 

One of the comments said this: 

“I used to like Shadow Haven until I found out the author was using their partner’s ideas and even having their partner write parts of the book for them, then took their name off everything and took all the credit.”

When someone called her out on the fact that it was a highly defamatory statement, she said this:

“I know I’m correct, because I watched the tail end of it happen. Don’t get me wrong, she did write some of it, but there was too much that she didn’t write for her to not put the other person’s name on it somewhere.”

At first I laughed, because how utterly ridiculous. Then I started to cry because there is one thing I cannot stand and it’s being accused of something I did not do. Then I got really angry. I think I am still very angry.

I feel the need to defend myself over a comment someone made with zero evidence to back it up. Because I wrote every last word of Shadow Haven myself. 

The girl who accused me is a friend of one of my exes. Someone I have blocked. Someone I don’t wish to interact with. Someone who I didn’t think would sink so low as to lie about this, but she obviously has. 

If you’ve ever followed Shadow Haven as it was published, you’ll know these things to be true: 

- I started writing Shadow Haven before I met my ex.

- I finished Shadow Haven after I broke up with my ex. We dated for a short amount of time (6 months give or take). It wasn’t healthy and I wasn’t gonna stay in a relationship like that. I broke up with her about four weeks after my brother died because everyone has their limit and my limit was a comment of hers about my grief.

- Shadow Haven never has had a different author than me.

- My ex edited perhaps a couple of chapters for me, like any beta would do. If she added sentences to my work, I removed them. I can recall this happening once with the scene where Regina has the nightmare about the man on the island. I removed it because I didn’t like that, it was not her place to do so. It’s never any beta’s place to do so, btw. I can’t remember any other instances. 

- I have never taken the ideas of my ‘partner’ nor has she written any parts of the book, nor was her name every on the fanfic, nor did I ever take it off. The only thing I removed was this comment: “This story is currently being edited by blabla.” Because we broke up and she stopped doing that way before we broke up because, you may recall, my brother died in 2016 (when I was with my ex) and I stopped writing for a while.

- Shadow Haven was so important to me. To show true representation. Then it became a whole different kind of important to me because I was working on the book version (because Ylva asked me before I finished the fic) while dealing with the grief of my brother dying. 

But now there’s an accusation. And I can’t prove I didn’t nor can they prove I did. And it’s bothering me. The only proof I have is that the story is my voice. Every last word, because I wrote every single fucking word. And I am so angry about it and I don’t know how to let it go. 

Many people have already showed their support to me. And it’s helped, but then I glance at the comment, and I get angry all over again. Because Shadow Haven is a fic I worked so hard on. Had so much pleasure working on. Made great friendships over. And now this fucking cloud is dooming over it. Because she won’t be the only person who would have been told this. 

So what do I do now? How do I get over being so angry over one comment? Do I link you to my ex’s ao3 so y’all can go and compare our writing styles? Do I DM this girl on one of her three differently named Facebook profiles and tell her my side? Do I just... let it go?

Do I expose every last fucking lie my ex has ever told?

No. Because I don’t want to be like that.

But I can guarantee you this and I will die on this hill. Every last word in Shadow Haven was written by me. I never stole anyone’s ideas, nor did I ever ‘take’ any credit.

The credit belongs to me. Because I wrote it. I thought of it. I put down the very last sentence of Shadow Haven the day I wrote the first sentence and took many months to fill in everything in between. 

Now this girl mentions the book and not the fic, so I’m honestly kind of confused which one she means. Because if she is actually talking about the book, I can show every last fucking edit I made as I turned it into a book. I have the digital proof of every last chapter. Time stamped. Date stamped. I have the comments and suggestions of the editor provided to me by my publisher and every single change I made because of it. 

And you know? I did all those things way after I dated my ex. Because I was dating someone else at that time. Someone who lived with me. Someone who watched me day after day and night after night work on it. Someone who supported me and someone who earned the dedication I gave her at the time in the book.

So, to my ex, if you’re reading this. Please stop. Tell your friend the truth. If you wanted to hurt me, congratulations, you succeeded. 

But I will never let you take Shadow Haven from me. 

It is and always was, mine.

[lexxikitty-blog1]

Collide-O-Scope by Andrea Bramhall Series: Norfolk Coast Investigation Story: #1 Read: May 2016 Rating: 5 Stars

I received an ARC of this book from NetGalley and Ylva Publishing in exchange for an honest review. This is my second book by this author. I rather enjoyed the first book I had read. It has been more than a year, though, since I read that book. I hadn't read another in between because of a 'trap' I sometimes fall into - if I love the first book that I read by an author (or, at least, really like), and I do not immediately read something else by them; I fall into the trap of fearing reading something 'less than perfect', which would seemingly, somehow, undermine my previous read. Yeah, I know, not logical. Location A small village, Brandale Staite, in North Norfolk England. A place of 39 year round residents (there had been 40, but Connie’s dead now). The village swells to four hundred ‘in season’. ‘The campsite holds six hundred people per night.’ Note: there is a map at the front of the book. It shows King’s Lynn (where Kate lives and where a second murder investigation takes place off-scene), Hunstanton (where the police work out of while investigating) but does not show Brandale Staite (unless that is also called Brancaster?). Main Characters There are two points of views in this book. Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon is relatively newly promoted to her position (three weeks before the beginning of this book), and relatively newly arrived in the area (moved to Kings Lynn from Norwich at same time as promotion). Though she grew up in a small village like setting near the sea. Nearish to an oil rig. This is important since her pop worked on one. Before it burned – it and him on it. Mother died when Kate was young. So she was raised by her grandmother, but she’s passed on now as well (when Kate was 17). Kate is currently 35. Drives a BMW Mini. Of Importance : There is a question that Gina asks Kate, something like ‘will someone miss you when you die?’ the answer is ‘no’. Georgina ‘Gina’ Temple is a woman who works as the second in command at Wells campsite (the manager). She is a mother of 9 year old Sammy, who she had when she was 17, making her 26 when the book opens. Had liked drinking a bottle of Shiraz with Connie. Also drinks Rioja. Of Importance : Sammy (daughter), Matt Green (father of her child), and Connie Wells (boss and friend). Secondary Characters NOTE: Since this is a mystery and ‘everyone’s a suspect’ I’ve attempted to add people as their names came up the first time. Not by order of importance. Police Inspector Savage is the person in control of the crime scene where Wells body was found. He is meet at the beginning of the book, and mentioned several times thereafter but has little to no interaction with the story after the beginning. Detective Inspector Timmons is Kate’s direct boss and would have normally lead the investigation of Wells death but for a slightly higher priority murder investigation involving three women in a ‘the middle of King’s Lynn.‘ Dr. Ruth Anderson is the medical examiner. Sergeant Stella Goodwin is ‘an experienced sergeant’ who will handle the inside the office stuff, while Kate handles the outside the office investigation. Technically she has been 'left in charge' when Timmons goes off to attempt to solve some other 'more important' case. I say technically because Goodwin and Brannon more often work together than have Goodwin dictate what Brannon will do. Detective Constable Jimmy Powers is Kate’s assistant. ‘A guy in his late twenties.’ Police Constable Collier is a newbie partnered up DC Brothers. Both working on the investigation. Detective Constable Tom Brothers works on the investigation. Makes jokes a lot. He ‘looked a little like a panda in reverse.’ Len Wild is the head of the forensics team working on the murder investigation. Villagers William Clapp is a worker at Wells’ campsite. He is a ‘thin, blonde guy’ with a ‘diamond earring . . . in his left ear.’ Leah Shaw is Connie’s ex. Described as being the people person of the relationship, though that is not in evidence in the book. Leah is currently bunking with Ally Robbins. Matthew ‘Matt’ Green is the father of Sammy Temple, and works for Sands. Lives in ‘Pebbles Cottage, Brandale Staithe.’ Ally ‘the Cat’ Robbins works on a lobster boat (or a fishing boat at least). Has a reputation of being ‘a tramp who’ll sleep with anything that doesn’t say no.’ Edward and Rupert Sands are the people that own half the village. Something like bitter rivals of Connie Wells. Murder Victim Connie Wells is/was a woman who ran the successful camp site in the village – the one that, in season, provides a great deal of support to the rest of the business in the village. The campsite is called ‘Brandale Backpackers and Camping.’ She was formerly attached to a woman named Leah, but sometime in the past, prior to the start of the book, they had split apart (six months prior?). Everyone, including the ex, but not including Gina and Sammy, describes Connie as being a bitch. And kind of disliked her. Medical examiner gave an approximate age for Wells of between 30 and 40. Of Importance : Merlin (dog), Leah (ex.), workers of her business, villagers Plot The book opens with a prologue. One that I see occasionally and kind of dislike for one specific reason. It allows the reader to see the character alive and bouncing around as a fully realized character. Then kills them. There’s a reason I stopped reading so many mysteries. Gets depressing – that. Well, so, the book opens, and a woman is out walking her dog along a particular path near a marshy flood plain. She has her camera with her and is taking pictures. Unlike most of her times taking pictures, she is less focused on nature and the like, and more on what is happening involving some lobster traps. Gun shots go off. Merlin, Connie’s dog, squeals in terror. The birds flee. Connie shrugs. The noise makers have gone off – sounds that are made in the morning by farmers to drive off birds. Connie raises her camera and focuses. Another shot goes off. Chapter one finds a Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon heading to a crime scene. There’s a frantic dog being held by a police officer, a crime scene inspector, and police. The police do not yet know who the victim is, since she does not have any identification on her, and she is missing her face. The book proceeds with following Brannon as she investigates. Timmons, her boss, would normally be the lead investigator, but another case comes up of slightly more importance. Relatively quickly, like in the first chapter (I think I recall), the identity is revealed to the police, though, of course, the reader already knew. Connie Wells has died. By gunshot. Wells, it turns out, has a business in the village, or on the outskirts, that involves a seasonal campsite. That campsite adds a ton of business to the village, and, as some note, the village itself would greatly suffer if that campsite were to close. Which, as it turns out, Wells was within a week of doing. And the whole village knew about this issue. Meanwhile, Wells has an ex-girlfriend who has made threats against her. The richest family, or at least the one that owns half the village (I rephrase as I do not know how wealthy Connie might have been), also despise Wells. It was mutual. So – everyone wanted her dead. Well . . . not exactly. One at least wanted her dead. The rest? Baring a few here and there (including Gina and Sammy Temple, and possible one or more of her other employees), just thought she was a bitch. So Brannon must first determine who the victim was, then who killed her. Overall There are many types of police books – a few of the varieties include (1) those that are mostly about the crimes and the people who investigate them (emphasis on investigation – police procedural – ‘just the facts’); (2) those that are like 1, but include a heavier emphasis on characters; (3) similar to 2 but injects romance while still focused mainly on the investigation; (4) like 3 but focus is mainly on the romance, while the investigation takes something of a back seat; (5) those which are mostly romance in nature, maybe mixed with danger, but the focus is heavily focused on the romance; plus a million and one other variations. This book is one that leans between 2 and 3 above – the book is heavily into the murder investigation (Kate), with some character development stuff (Gina), while having a bit of romance floating in the air . . . lightly in some places (beginning), a lot heavier in others (80%+) (Kate, Gina). I was thinking, while reading this book, that it reminds me of reading a Peter Lovesey book. I did not have a fully developed thought when I was thinking of Lovesey – beyond the idea that, unlike many/most lesbian fiction mysteries that involve the police, this specific book had a Lovesey vibe. This means nothing to those who have no idea what I’m talking about, of course. See, not fully developed thought. My point of thinking of him, had to do with emphasis – a lot of the lesbian fiction mysteries I’ve read have had romance be something of much greater importance than the mystery (at least those that include the police – there are many wherein it seems as if the characters in the story forget that there’s actually a mystery to solve, in favor of . . . um . . humping); while this book here gives greater importance to the mystery. Still, no inherent reason to bring Lovesey up. It was just a thought that had crossed my mind at some point. Lovesey’s books, specifically those that involve Peter Diamond, are ones that involve murder investigations set in England which is a more leaning 2 (depending on book and scene) with occasional dips into injecting romance. As in there is a lot of importance on characters. Right. No idea why I had that thought. Let’s move on. This book was a rather thrilling exciting mystery that included the right mix of romance. Granted, those who look for romance, as in capital R Romance, should probably look elsewhere, but there is a flavor of it here. There is one slight issue I have with the book. Though it is hard to indicate my 'issue' when it occurs so late in the book that I can't really mention it. I'll just say that there is something of a cliche in lesbian mystery books that pops up near the end. Though, to be fair, I've seen the scenario play out similarly in 'mainstream' fiction. I've just seen it more often in lesbian mystery books for whatever reason. Also, to be fair, this "cliche' is handled quite well in this book. Despite my 'issue', this a rather good book. Quite enjoyable. I would probably give the book a relatively solid rating of 4.70. May 4 2016

[caveartfair]

Prospect.4 Brings Big Names to New Orleans–but Doesn’t Take Enough Risks

Mixed-media work by Patricia Kaersenhout, on view at the Ogden Museum of Southern Art.

New Orleans is proudly multicultural, resilient, boisterous, and decidedly complicated (even more so in these days of ongoing post-Katrina, Airbnb-facilitated gentrification). What kind of internationally focused art event would ever fit this uniquely idiosyncratic, storied place, which is on the cusp of celebrating its 300th anniversary? That has been the struggle of Prospect, the biennial-turned-triennial now open in its fourth iteration, under the direction of Trevor Schoonmaker, a curator of contemporary art hailing from the Nasher Museum at Duke University.

“The Lotus in Spite of the Swamp,” its title borrowed from a quote from jazz musician Archie Shepp, does try to live up to the challenge. There are thrills and discoveries, to be sure, but after a few days of exploration I was left hoping for more—a more unbridled, risky, sprawling proposition to match the energy of Prospect’s host city.

Let’s start at the Ogden Museum of Southern Art, where Patricia Kaersenhout’s mixed-media banners and collages are quietly horrifying—craft in the service of righteous disgust. The Dutch artist defaces imagery of historical white colonizers with embroidery and beadwork, setting their faces crawling with insects and decay. That fraught mood inadvertently carries over into an adjoining room of hazy, moody paintings of ships at sea by Katherine Bradford (a favorite subject for the artist, along with bathers).

Installation view of Hank Willis Thomas, History of the Conquest, 2017 at Jazz Museum. © Mike Smith. Courtesy of Prospect.4 New Orleans.

The Ogden also holds a P.4-specific commission by John Akomfrah. It’s a ponderous, three-channel poetic biopic that purports to tell the story of jazz pioneer Charles “Buddy” Bolden, who was institutionalized in 1907 for schizophrenia. The cinematography is gorgeous, but the payoff is minimal; an elliptical voiceover, plus too much slo-mo emoting in graveyards, weathered houses, and asylums adds up to a film that is both heavy and didactic, a sort of tragic music video. If you have limited time, consider saving it instead for a concurrent but unrelated-to-P.4 survey on a lower floor of the museum, “Solidary & Solitary: The Joyner/Giuffrida Collection,” which celebrates a lineage of African-American art and abstraction from Jack Whitten and Sam Gilliam to Shinique Smith and Kevin Beasley.

Stand-out moments do dot this triennial, along with welcome bursts of the unexpected. At the New Orleans Jazz Museum, sculptures by big-ticket names like Hank Willis Thomas and Rashid Johnson are joined by less expected inclusions. There are beautiful and elaborate “Mardi Gras Indian” costumes by Big Chief Darryl Montana; some truly singular collages by jazz icon Louis Armstrong, one of which features a packet of his preferred herbal laxative, Swiss Kriss; lushly impressionistic paintings on rough bark-cloth by young Kenyan painter Michael Armitage; and unabashedly weird and political canvases by Peter Williams.

Installation view of Barkley Hendricks at the New Orleans Museum of Art. © Mike Smith. Courtesy of Prospect.4 New Orleans.

The New Orleans Museum of Art has filled its entrance lobby with a commanding selection of paintings by Barkley L. Hendricks. I certainly can’t be the first person to think that the artist, who died in April of this year, would have made a thrilling choice to paint Obama’s portrait—no offense to Kehinde Wiley. Don’t miss an additional, modest piece tucked away in a side gallery of Renaissance paintings. There, Hendricks’s Innocence & Friend—a 1977 triptych depicting a toothpick-chewing hipster, a banana, and two oranges on an aluminum leaf ground—has a curious neighbor in the form of a circa-1460s Coronation of the Virgin by Bartolomeo Vivarini. Upstairs at the same museum, an inventively installed selection of images from Dawit L. Petros’s “The Stranger’s Notebook”—a quasi-documentary series about migration—is a highlight, as are works on paper by 2017 MacArthur Grant winner Njideka Akunyili Crosby.

The Contemporary Art Center packs a wealth of work in its multi-level space, including much that focuses on craft and unconventional mixed-media. Lavar Munroe is showing a raw and shambolic sculpture, its centerpiece a rearing horse, assembled from tennis balls, wood, fabric, and pieces of costuming from the Bahamian Junkanoo celebration. Margarita Cabrera has a series of soft sculptures, including one of a lumpy, thread-dangling piano and a variety of cacti-like flora sewn from U.S. border patrol uniforms. Throughout the CAC, a series of figurative sculptures by Taiyo Kimura—small figures huddled into themselves, facing walls and corners—are a consistently disturbing punctuation for the exhibition as a whole.    

Over at the Ace Hotel, rising star Genevieve Gaignard has turned two rooms into a combination living room and chapel, importing vintage furniture, church pews, figurines, found photos, mirrors, and wallpaper (part of which reproduces schematic diagrams of slave ships). The aesthetic is a bit too cozily close to that of the hipster hotel itself, which takes away some of its bite, but the installation—and its series of quasi-narrative photographs and self-portraits—confirms Gaignard as a whipsmart artist, both accessible and nuanced. That said, it would have been nice to experience this piece’s layered mood in a stranger, less familiar location, rather than adjacent to Stumptown Coffee.  

Genevieve Gaignard, Grassroots, 2017. Installation view of Ace Hotel New Orleans. © Crista Rock. Courtesy of Prospect.4 New Orleans.

That brings up a larger point. P.4 has streamlined its roster of venues so that they’re now in a tighter cluster, with most displays occupying institutions and museums. (There are a few notable, offbeat exceptions, like a series of works by Pedro Lasch incorporating old clocks and mirrors, sited in the back of the M.S. Rau Antiques store.) That certainly makes for a more convenient visitor experience, but it negates the scavenger hunt feel that I remember from the Franklin Sirmans-curated P.3, in 2014.

Part of this decision might just have been logistical. One of the most anticipated moments of this triennial, I imagine, was the inclusion of a new commissioned work by Kara Walker, entitled Katastwóf Karavan, that was meant to be located on Algiers Point, a farther-flung spot that requires a ferry ride from the French Quarter. This piece was temporarily shelved about one week before P.4.’s opening. “The scale and unprecedented complexity” of the work “posed multiple challenges,” according to a press statement from interim director Ylva Rouse. There’s still a Mark Dion installation on Algiers Point—a small wooden cabin meant to resemble a Field Station of the Melancholy Marine Biologist—but it’s modest and underwhelming on its lonesome, marooned on the flat shores of the Mississippi.

Overall, the future curator of P.5, in 2020, would do well to focus less on recognizable names and more on new energy. Does this triennial really benefit from a large wall mural by Yoko Ono, whose message (“Have You Seen The Horizon Lately?”) reads like an advertisement for an ultra-minimalist clothing store? Does a series of abstract flags by Odili Donald Odita scattered throughout the city bring much to the table? I overheard an acquaintance during the press weekend express a pithy criticism of P.4; namely, it could have been weirder.

Naama Tsabar, Commission 21, 2017. Photo by J Caldwell. Courtesy of Prospect.4 New Orleans.

It might just be time to turn over the reins to someone whose C.V. is less institutionally polished (which presupposes patrons willing to make that leap). More risk, more reward. What would this triennial look like if it was organized by the team behind local art space Pelican Bomb, whose satellite show “Queer Tropics” should also be on your itinerary this year? What would it look like if it really tried to mirror the elusive character of this city? I’d be happy with a rougher-edged Prospect that partially took place in someone’s attic, or the basement of a bar, in addition to the city’s museums.

A Prospect along those lines might resonate more, generally, with the collaborative transcendence of Naama Tsabar’s commissioned performance, Composition 21, held in NOLA’s Washington Square Park during the opening day of P.4. (Sadly, it’s a one-off affair.) In a reprise of a concept that Tsabar has staged in Miami, among other places, 20 local women, arranged in a triangular formation, stood atop amplifiers, wielding guitars, basses, drumsticks, and—in one case—a cello. The performers were divided up into three groups, which took turns performing a song that they had composed based on Tsabar’s specifications.

Afterward, everyone played simultaneously, and spectators were welcome to meander through the musicians, creating a surround-sound effect in which melodies competed and overlapped. What better use of a sunny Saturday morning than to wander inside this joyous forcefield, a living social-sculpture—women soloing; tapping; harmonizing; thumbing bass lines; riffing, stoically—a thoroughly defiant, bad-ass retort to the everyday oppressions of the world outside its boundaries.

from Artsy News