* Subtle Forms of Racism to Avoid in SFF by Blackfemgeekery
This is a transcript of a talk given at EasterCon in the UK on April 20, 2019.
And here's some lovel fan art for the Fall of Ile-Rien trilogy by Worldsentwined:
I'm closing in on the end of Network Effect, about mid to 3/4 of the way through the climax, and deep in decision fatigue and stress.
That's about all I've got right now.
Did Family dinner for the Kidlets 12th birthday, it was good to see everyone.
Got outside for more yard time, despite weed whacking the lawn, it needs mowing already. I shudder to think what the back yard looks like, I havent been brave enough to look. I did finally get the solar post toppers installed today, I put longer nails in to hold them in place, and bedammned to the fat squirrels who tamper with them!, and the new crosspiece up on the fence, the last piece shortened up about two inches over the winter, between the shrinkage and the post yawl. I put more hooks onto this "beam" and hung up a couple of things after it was in place. The white picket fence is looking pretty spiffy now that I have done those repair tweeks. When I was at Home Despot, I also picked up another 18 bags of cow poo and a couple bags of mulch for the front.
I spray painted the cross piece this time, normally I paint it with the exterior paint, but, spray works just as well. I also resprayed some of my plastic planters that needed touching up. Funny thing, when I was buying the spray paint, they needed my birthdate, I told them I wasnt a tagger, and I couldnt even use a stepladder without help, so how could I tag? I also pointed at my graying hair too. But, they were the rules, I think that corporate is cracking down again.
On Sunday I saw a nice wild bunny in the side yard again, this one was bigger than the last few I have seen, I had to catch Tigger though, because he was slithering through the grass to accost the poor bunny.
Its to rain again tomorrow, and Wednesday is full up, have an Egypt Lecture and the sister creature and I are getting our haircuts.
The Kraken, Alfred the Tennyson
Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumbered and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge sea worms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.
Even young Tennyson had a way with sounds. It took a while to temper the pomposity, though. And how to better land the ending (those last two lines need a little more development to really stick it -- either start using Revelations imagery earlier, right after the delayed volta, or give up the already creaking sonnet form and spin it out a few more lines).
Subject quote from .
Then the computer was whining that it was out of memory, and I had to go and carefully compress some files, one at a time, to try to free up space -- and then it cried that it was out of memory again, and I turned on Activity Monitor, and suddenly, POOF! Memory appeared. >_>
Spouse says it was probably coincidence.
Have moved the speaker out to the car, but not plugged it in or anything. Still, it will hopefully be nice to have something that will be willing to hook up to Bluetooth so I can play stuff from my phone when A: the radio is boring, and B: kid is not playing stuff on their headphones.
Need to edit TWO things, I think. Eeeeg.
One: I am emphatically NOT fine. Two: YOU CAST HOLD PERSON ON ME!
--Bryn, Hit & Abyss, Episode 8: Words Kill
(It's true; one of the other PCs cast Hold Person on her, and not for that great a reason.)
( INwatch+Bookwatch )
Spent some time this afternoon working at the new bookstore. Slowly ripped out a bit of old framing that needed to go plus some blocks that had served their purpose. Then spent time in the back yard changing out some screws and painting.
Made two batches of Rosemary Chicken which came out amazing, as usual!!
Tomorrow off to 5 days work at the Academy of Sciences.
Review copy provided by the publisher. I also have the privilege to know the author a bit socially.
We've now had several decades--all of my lifetime, in fact--with fairy tale variations, reconceptions, recreations as a major subgenre. So the question about a collection like this can sometimes be: is there anything new to say here? Is it possible to fracture a fairy tale in a way that is not in itself a predictable part of canon at this point?
Happily the answer here is not just yes, but "yes and I will even show you a little of how it's done behind the scenes." I was pleasantly surprised to reach the end of the collection and find not only notes on each story but a poem to go with each--sometimes very directly, sometimes with glancing notes on the same theme. Many of these stories are from previous decades, and Yolen takes time in the notes to talk about how she thought of them then--particularly interesting when they span a cultural shift of awareness around who gets to retell tales from whom.
I'd come upon some of these stories before in other collections of Jane's, but I'm never sorry to see "Granny Rumple" reprinted--it changed my world when I first read it, and I think it can do the same for writers and readers who encounter it for the first time now. Jane's warmth and humor permeate these tales, and breaking familiar stories like Snow White and Cinderella in more than one way in one collection gives us even more perspective on what these tales can still do.
Review copy provided by the publisher.
This is the last in a trilogy, and it is all about consequences. Regular readers know what a sucker I am for consequences.
Years have passed since the events of Amberlough and Armistice. The world is not perfect--there are still war zones--but people have started to get through the very basics of rationing and rebuilding and into questions of who should be honored and who demonized in their recent turbulent history. For teenagers like Lillian and Jinadh's son Stephen, the war and occupation are increasingly dim and distant memories, an obsession of adults. For the adults, it's still all too close and all too real--especially when parts of the past don't stay hidden in the jungle where they previously were.
Frankly, most of these characters are exhausted. Their old coping mechanisms are imperfectly adjusted to their new circumstances, which keep shifting anyway. None of them seem to have had even five minutes to put their feet up, breathe, and look at some nice trees or a sunset or something. Their world is relentless. That makes Amnesty a completely appropriate book for right now--and also sometimes a difficult one. There's solace here, but it's circumscribed, constrained; there are ways forward, but none of them without cost. There is hope, but not for the things the characters used to hope for. And there are people trying to do better. Always, always, amidst rubble and chaos and machination, there are people trying to do better.