#Martha the Shrew

[sarahjdhuephotographyandwriting]

a flash fiction story I wrote awhile back. I was thinking about it the other day after my cat passed and wanted to share it here (side note: he was a sweetie, but he was a big, white & orange cat):

[lizbethborden]

Hi again! Yeah, from your bookshelf! You seem well informed and I wanna know the type of stuff you read and might recommend. I don't even know what to tell you for my interests because I feel like I'm just begining. Sorry I'm young and dumb still haha.

#1 you're not dumb and #2 nothing to apologize for :)

Here's some books I've got on my shelves or that I've read:

Men Who Hate Women: From Incels to Pickup Artists, Laura Bates

Pro: Reclaiming Abortion Rights, Katha Pollitt

Women, Race, & Class, Angela Davis

American Girls, Nancy Jo Sales

Lesbian Culture: An Anthology, eds. Julia Penelope and Susan J Wolf

Lesbian Studies, Margaret Cavendish

Hood Feminism, Mikki Kendall

Against White Feminism, Rafia Zakaria

Sister and Brother: Lesbians and Gay Men Write About Their Lives Together, eds Joan Nestle and John Preston

Another Mother Tongue, Judy Grahn

Aimee & Jaguar, Erica Fischer

Mouths of Rain: An Anthology of Black Lesbian Thought, ed. Briona Simone Jones

Same-Sex Unions in Premodern Europe, John Boswell

The Mary Daly Reader, eds. Jennifer Rycenga and Linda Barufaldi

Hidden from History: Reclaiming the Gay and Lesbian Past, eds. Martin Duberman, Martha Vicinus, George Chauncey Jr.

Testosterone Rex: Myths of Sex, Science, and Society, Cordelia Fine

Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Father's Tongue, Julia Penelope

The Resisting Reader, Judith Fetterley

The Double X Economy, Linda Scott

Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture, ed. Roxane Gay

Home Grown: How Domestic Violence Turns Men Into Terrorists, Joan Smith

Intercourse, Andrea Dworkin

The Trials of Nina McCall: Sex, Surveillance, and the Decades-Long Government Plan to Imprison "Promiscuous" Women, Scott Stern

The Politics of Reality: Essays in Feminist Theory, Marilyn Frye

Only Words, Catharine A. Mackinnon

Everything Below the Waist: Why Health Care Needs a Feminist Revolution, Jennifer Block

Witchcraze: A New History of the European Witch Hunts, Anne Llwellyn Barstow

Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Frontlines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture, Peggy Orenstein

Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men, Caroline Criado-Perez

Lesbian Ethics: Toward New Values, Sarah Lucia Hoagland

We Were Feminists Once: From Riot Grrrl to CoverGirl, the Buying and Selling of a Political Movement, Andi Zeisler

Of Woman Born: Motherhood as Experience and Institution, Adrienne Rich

On Lies, Secrets, and Silence: Selected Prose, Adrienne Rich

Feminism, Animals, and Science: The Naming of the Shrew, Lynda Birke

The Female Body in Western Culture: Contemporary Perspectives, ed. Susan Rubin Suleiman

Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza, Gloria Anzaldua

Flesh Wounds: The Culture of Cosmetic Surgery, Virginia L Blum

Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment, Patricia Hill Collins

Pornland: How Porn has Hijacked our Sexuality, Gail Dines

Backlash: The Undeclared War Against American Women, Susan Faludi

From Eve to Dawn: A History of Women in the World, Marilyn French

This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, eds. Cherrie Moraga and Gloria Anzaldua

Seeing Like a Feminist, Nivedita Menon

With Her Machete In Her Hand: Reading Chicana Lesbians, Catriona Reuda Esquibel

The Disappearing L: Erasure of Lesbian Spaces and Culture, Bonnie J. Morris

Foundlings: Lesbian and Gay Historical Emotion before Stonewall, Christopher Nealon

The Persistent Desire: A Butch/Femme Reader, ed. Joan Nestle

The Straight Mind and Other Essays, Monique Wittig

The Trouble Between us: An Uneasy History of White and Black Women in the Feminist Movement, Winifred Breines

Right-Wing Women, Andrea Dworkin

Woman Hating, Andrea Dworkin

Why I Am Not A Feminist, Jessica Crispin

Sapphistries: A Global History of Love Between Women, Leila J Rupp

I tried to avoid too many left turns into my specific interests although if you passionately want to know any of those, I can make you some more lists LOL

I would suggest picking a book that sounds interesting and using the footnotes and bibliography to find more to read. I've done that a lot :) a lot of my books have more sticky tabs or w/e in the bibliography than in the text so I don't lose stuff I'm interested in.

Hope this helps!

[burtonandtaylor]

The Taming of Liz Taylor

Excerpt from article published on December 3, 1966

By Russell Braddon

Elizabeth Taylor, wearing no makeup and looking small and relaxed in pink slacks, sat sipping champagne in her dressing room at the movie studios outside Rome. Her husband, Richard Burton, a large, red-bearded, piratical-looking man in a 16th-century costume, was sipping a large vodka and tonic. “Seen the posters for the film?” she asked, pointing to a series of them on the dressing-room wall. The first announced:

Now on location in Rome ELIZABETH TAYLOR in THE TAMING OF THE SHREW and introducing Richard Burton.

“She had that specially printed,” Burton declaimed with a curl of the lip. “So I got one specially printed too.” His poster announced that Richard Burton starred in The Taming of the Shrew, which was scripted by Richard Burton, edited by Richard Burton, produced by Richard Burton and everything else-ed by Richard Burton. His wife was not even mentioned in the very small print.

Mrs. Burton had thereupon ordered a third poster:

ELIZABETH TAYLOR, ACADEMY AWARD–WINNING ACTRESS AND SHAKESPEAREAN COACH TO RICHARD BURTON IN THE TAMING OF THE SHREW

“Cheek,” was her husband’s comment.

“Take no notice of him. He’s only jealous.”

The conversation turned to the new full-blooded Taylor voice, which she had developed, without benefit of voice coach, for the role of Martha in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? “She can now, at the drop of a hat,” Burton declared, “sound like anything from a ripe old harridan to a boozy old whore.” He saluted her with his large glass of vodka. Glowing with pleasure, she saluted him back with champagne.

“Have a quail’s egg,” she suggested, offering a dish full of them.

Burton was asked how he and his wife came to be starring in a Shakespearean farce under an Italian director, Franco Zeffirelli. He flung himself back in his armchair and began:

“Well, it was like this — and can you believe it for idiocy … ?”

“What do you mean, idiocy?” demanded his wife, who knew what was to follow.

“… when Franco Zeffirelli decided that he wanted to do The Taming of the Shrew as his first film, he sent a colleague of his to see us. And this chap tells Elizabeth what Franco is planning, and that he wants her — who’s never done Shakespeare in her life — to do the Shrew. So naturally I waited for him to ask me — who had starred at the Old Vic — to do Petruchio. But not a word! Not a hint of a word! Apparently Franco didn’t think I was witty enough.” Mrs. Burton laughed callously. “It was only later, when he was taken to see my Hamlet, which was rather a witty Hamlet — not my fault, but it was — that eventually I got the job. … Everyone assumes, of course, and quite properly, that I was asked first. But incredibly I wasn’t. So we might as well get that clear for a start.”

“Absolutely not true,” Zeffirelli said, coming into the room. “Richard is very gallant to Elizabeth — well, sometimes he is very gallant to Elizabeth — but it is absolutely not true. I asked them both at the same time. Always I thought of them together. And, in the end, we even decided to produce it together. It will be the most artistic Shakepeare picture ever made,” he concluded modestly.

“But not stuffy,” Burton reminded.

“Absolutely not stuffy,” Zeffirelli agreed.

“And also, of course, there’s the fact that whilst Elizabeth and I both wanted to do this film, no outside producer, for Shakespeare, would put up the kind of money we can demand.”

Mrs. Burton looked immensely contented at the thought of the kind of money she can demand, even though, as the co-producers, she and Burton had to put up $3 million to pay for their own services.

The Burtons had arrived in Italy with a large entourage, their children, some 200 pieces of baggage, and a mad assortment of pets — “allegedly the children’s, but they’re Elizabeth’s really,” Burton claimed — that were said to include three dogs, two cats, five goldfish, three tortoises, a young rabbit, and a bird. It is a nervous habit of Zeffirelli’s that, when he first meets a person, or even meets again someone he has not seen for some time (like one day), he will admire some part of the person’s apparel. He greeted Mrs. Burton, the day she arrived at the studios, by admiring her earrings — which were of diamonds and indeed wholly admirable.

“They were a present from a director,” Mrs. Burton advised. Then she added sweetly, “It was his first film too.”

“But I think it would be very difficult,” Zeffirelli demurred, “to find something that will top those earrings.”

“No,” she murmured. “There’s a little shop on the Via Condotti called Bulgari …”

“I don’t understand your English accent,” Zeffirelli interrupted hurriedly, Bulgari being in Rome what Tiffany is in New York. “Come and look at the costumes.” But he returned the next day with a bracelet, in enamel and precious stones, that once had belonged to Napoleon’s sister, Elisa Bacciochi. Delighted, Mrs. Burton thanked him and explained that actresses give directors gifts only when their film is completed.

Work began, at the studios, at 9 a.m. — which meant getting up at 6 — and this was one aspect of her work about which Mrs. Burton cared less than passionately.

“Isn’t that wife of mine here yet?” demanded Burton one day. “I swear to you, she’d be late for the last bloody judgment. A quarter of an hour late, in fact, and Liz thinks she’s early.”

Eventually Mrs. Burton arrived, looking composed, uncontrite, and professional. Immediately, Zeffirelli, who directs by playing all the parts and miming extravagantly, launched into his version of how she should act during the morning’s scene — tearing his hair, fighting, spitting and shouting.

“Franco,” she remonstrated, deadpan, “don’t do it all for me, please.”

Mrs. Burton first acted the scene for the cameras, and then — since the microphone couldn’t follow her — did it a second time for sound alone.

“Bravo,” the Italian technicians cheered as she finished. Mrs. Burton giggled, then confessed. “You feel a damned idiot doing that.”

“And to think,” her husband retorted, “that some fool in London once wrote that Elizabeth was overpaid, overweight, and undertalented.”

“Not true,” Zeffirelli assured her, his arm round her shoulder, his eye roving clinically. “You are not overpaid, and you are not ­undertalented.”

“Dear Franco,” she murmured, and kissed him.

Burton slapped her on her stomach. “Look at that,” he invited, and the entire studio looked. “Isn’t that belly disgraceful?”

At last she was stung. “In Egypt,” she observed coldly, “they adore it. The only trouble is, my films are banned in Egypt, so they never get to see it.”

She, Burton, and Zeffirelli discussed once again, finally, what must be done in the next scene, and then indulged in the usual banter about Zeffirelli’s demonstrativeness, Burton’s alleged pleasure in close-ups of Richard Burton, Mrs. Burton’s lateness and ­operations, and Mrs. Burton’s costume, the bodice of which was laced up.

“Untie the lace a little,” Zeffirelli urged.

“Franco, I can’t. There’s enough of me showing already. Any lower and my bosom’ll fall out.”

“Exactly what Columbia wants,” growled her director, and reluctantly left the bosom adequately contained.

After a long day on the set, they consoled themselves with generous libations of vodka and tonic — and the morning after, early on the set, felt quite unwell. Mrs. Burton looked glowing, but she made it very clear that she felt awful.

After one take she stood in front of her small mirror and dabbed sweat from her brow.

“Pure vodka,” she declared. Right hand supported on left wrist, she painstakingly mascaraed each eyelash; to her evident astonishment, she avoided poking an eye out. A piece of costume jewelry clattered to the ground in the middle of his last line and ruined the first take. On the second, a bird high in the studio rafters cheeped shrilly. During the third take, Burton forgot his lines. On the fourth, a carpenter dropped a hammer and destroyed Burton’s ­concentration entirely, though not his good humor.

On the next three takes in a row, Burton fluffed his last line; and on the fourth he fluffed everything, but carried on, cheerfully inventing.

“That went very smoothly, I thought,” he declared as he passed the camera. “Shall we use it? Or would you like it in Welsh now?”

“Let’s go to lunch,” his wife suggested. “It’s not going to get any better.”

After lunch it went perfectly.

On the last day at the studios, Mrs. Burton asked Zeffirelli to come to her husband’s dressing room. “Tomorrow I fly to New York,” he told them, “to produce Anthony and Cleopatra at the Met. But I will miss you.”

“We’ll miss you too,” Mrs. Burton told him. “So here’s something to remember us by.” And she gave him a superb cigarette case of heavy gold decorated with a large sapphire and inscribed:

CARO FRANCO — FROM THE SHREW AND HER TAMER.

[stellabystarlight12]

CHARACTER OF THE DAY: Kate Reid (1930 - 1993)

British born Reid thrived on the stage playing strong women. Lady Macbeth, Katherine the Shrew and Edward Albee's Martha, to name a few. Although her film work was sporadic, it was memorable. From pimping out daughter Natalie Wood in THIS PROPERTY IS CONDEMNED to saving the world from alien invasion in THE ANDROMEDA STRAIN, she was equally believable and up to any challenge.

[moderndayhags]

Elizabeth Taylor: Grease your wheels, there is no taming this shrew.

From the streets of the UK to the American film scene this woman would become the iconic Cleopatra in the as titled movie, Martha in Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf?, and the leader of the Pink Ladies Rizzo. Elizabeth Taylor also known as Dame Elizabeth Rosamond Taylor or Liz was born in London in February of 1932 to an art dealer father and her mother a former stage actress. This would give her…

[littlestsnicket]

title: ambition and history by quigonejinn

word count: 6.3k

maria stark; christine everhart; investigative journalism

christine everhart is my absolute favorite mcu side character, and i adore fic that takes her seriously as an investigative journalist with both a strong sense of morality and ambition. and the piecemeal view into tony stark’s dysfunctional family is absolutely fascinating.

excerpt:

"How did you find me?" the woman asks.

Christine explains: in one of the photos Obadiah gave her, something shot on a New England beach, the girl stands in the background, holding a tote. In the foreground, while Tony has a serious conversation with his father. Tony is young enough to still have curly hair and be picked up by his father; Howard's trousers are rolled up to the knee because he has, apparently, been walking with Tony in the surf. Maria wears a white dress that blows in the wind, and she has a small, small smile.

In the background, the girl wears a Vassar sweatshirt against the wind. That's how Christine found her. She'd worked out that the Starks vacationed in Martha's Vineyard only until the Hampton house was finished in 1980. Christine worked backward from there, pulling Vassar yearbook photos progressively from 1980, 1979, 1978. She hit the jackpot with 1976.

"Why did Mrs. Stark fire you after nine months?"

"She thought I was fucking Howard. I think that's why she fired most of the nannies."

Christine studies the woman, who apparently, moved from the background tot he foreground of Martha's Vineyard vacation photos by m arrying the husband of one of the families she'd been nannying for. Stole him away from his shrew of a wife, the woman told Christine within the first ten minutes of the meeting.

"I wasn't, but I swear she was fucking his best friend. I can't remember his name. Oliver? Owen? Something weird." The woman hands the photograph back to Christine.

"Obadiah," Christine supplies and takes the photograph.

She asks the girl whether Obadiah was the one on the beach taking the photos that day, and after thinking about it, the girl confirms. Yes. Obadiah. Every once in a while, he'd go on vacation with the Starks.

In fact, he probably went on vacation with Howard more often than Maria did. That was another way in which that family had been totally fucked, she tells Christine. Totally, totally fucked.

[adaptationsdaily]

Modern Adaptations to William Shakespeare's work: Kiss Me Kate (1953, USA) Dir. George Sidney -> The Taming of the Shrew Valley Girl (1983, USA) Dir. Martha Coolidge -> Romeo and Juliet My Own Private Idaho (1991, USA) Dir. Gus Van Sant -> Henry IV, Part 1 10 Things I Hate About You (1999, USA) Dir. Gil Junger -> The Taming of The Shrew O (2001, USA) Dir. Tim Blake Nelson -> Othello Get Over It (2001, USA) Dir. Tommy O'Haver -> A Midsummer Night's Dream

[seeinganewlight]

2021 books read

1) bonnie and clyde: the making of a legend ⇾ karen blumenthal / (jan 1)  2) the guernsey literary and potato peel pie ociety ⇾ mary ann shaffer and annie barrows (audiobook) / (jan 4) 3) these violent delights ⇾ chloe gong (reread) / (jan 2 - jan 6) 4) daisy jones & the six ⇾ taylor jenkins reid (audiobook) / (jan 6) 5) the taming of the shrew ⇾ william shakespeare (reread) / (jan 8) 6) the magnolia sword: a ballad of mulan ⇾ sherry thomas / (jan 9 - jan 11) 7) footnotes: the black artists who rewrote the rules of the great white way ⇾ caseen gaines (arc) / (jan 12 - jan 18) 8) dial a for aunties ⇾ jessie q. sutanto (arc) / (jan 18) 9) fat chance, charlie vega ⇾ crystal maldonado (arc) / (jan 19 - jan 20) 10) grown ⇾ tiffany d. jackson / (jan 24) 11) the cousins ⇾ karen m. mcmanus / (jan 24 - jan 25) 12) concrete rose ⇾ angie thomas / (jan 27 - jan 28) 13) the ex-talk ⇾ rachel lynn solomon / (jan 29) 14) sadie ⇾ courtney summers (audiobook) / (jan 28 - jan 30) 15) spoiler alert ⇾ olivia dade (audiobook) / (jan 31) 16) know my name ⇾ chanel miller (audiobook) / (feb 4) 17) a cuban girl’s guide to tea and tomorrow ⇾ laura taylor namey / (feb 2 - feb 5) 18) the chance to fly ⇾ ali stroker and stacy davidowitz (arc) / (feb 11 - feb 12) 19) vietgone ⇾ qui nguyen (audiobook) / (feb 12) 20) always and forever lara jean ⇾ jenny han (reread) / (feb 12 - feb 13) 21) today tonight tomorrow ⇾ rachel lynn solomon (audiobook) / (feb 13 - feb 15) 22) love & olives ⇾ jenna evans welch / (feb 15 - feb 18) 23) if we were villains ⇾ m.l. rio (reread, audiobook) / (feb 19 - feb 20) 24) like home ⇾ louisa onomé (arc) / (feb 18 - feb 21) 25) macbeth ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (feb 22) 26) a taste for love ⇾ jennifer yen / (feb 22) 27) hamlet ⇾ william shakespeare (reread) / (feb 24)  28) red, white and royal blue ⇾ casey mcquston (reread, audiobook) / (feb 25 - feb 26) 29) othello ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (feb 28) 30) a midsummer night’s dream ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (feb 28) 31) you had me at hola ⇾ alexis daria (audiobook) / (mar 7 - mar 8) 32) josh and hazel’s guide to not dating ⇾ christina lauren (audiobook) / (mar 12) 33) julius caesar ⇾ william shakespeare (reread) / (mar 15 - mar 16) 34) house of salt and sorrows ⇾ erin a. craig (audiobook) / (mar 18) 35) a phò love story ⇾ loan le / (mar 3 - mar 19) 36) i’ll be the one ⇾ lyla lee (audiobook / (mar 19) 37) romeo and juliet ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (mar 21) 38) the tempest ⇾ william shakespeare / (mar 21 - mar 22) 39) a good girl’s guide to murder ⇾ holly jackson (reread, audiobook) / (mar 26 - mar 27) 40) good girl, bad blood ⇾ holly jackson / (mar 27 - mar 28) 41) last night at the telegraph club ⇾ malinda lo / (mar 17 - mar 31) 42) the ivies ⇾ alexa donne (arc) / (apr 1) 43) the unexpected everything ⇾ morgan matson (reread, audiobook) / (apr 4) 44) richard iii ⇾ william shakespeare (audiobook) / (apr 8) 45) these violent delights ⇾ chloe gong (reread, audiobook) / (apr 9 - apr 11) 46) if we were villains ⇾ m.l. rio (reread) / (apr 6 - apr 12) 47) since you’ve been gone ⇾ morgan matson (reread, audiobook) / (apr 13) 48) our violent ends ⇾ chloe gong (arc) / (apr 12 - apr 15) 49) much ado about nothing ⇾ william shakespeare (reread) / (apr 15 - apr 16) 50) the seven husbands of evelyn hugo ⇾ taylor jenkins reid (reread, audiobook) / (apr 16 - apr 17) 51) speak easy, speak love ⇾ mckelle george / (apr 18 - apr 19) 52) foul is fair ⇾ hannah capin (audiobook) / (apr 20) 53) hello girls ⇾ brittany cavallaro & emily henry (audiobook) / (apr 21) 54) honey girl ⇾ morgan rogers (ebook & audiobook) / (apr 16 - apr 22) 55) save the date ⇾ morgan matson (reread, audiobook) / (apr 25) 56) house of hollow ⇾ krystal sutherand / (apr 25 - apr 26) 57) the winter’s tale ⇾ william shakespeare / (apr 26 - apr 28) 58) go the distance ⇾ jen calonita / (apr 28 - apr 29) 59) to have and to hoax ⇾ martha waters (audiobook) / (may 1) 60) the other side of perfect  ⇾ mariko turk (arc) / (may 1 - may 3) 61) the perfectionists ⇾ sara shepherd (audiobook) / (may 5 - may 6) 62) the good girls ⇾ sara shepherd (audiobook) / (may 6 - may 7) 63) take me home tonight ⇾ morgan matson / (may 8 - may 12) 64) pride and prejudice ⇾ jane austen (reread, audiobook) / (may 10 - may 15) 65) made in korea ⇾ sarah suk (arc) / (may 3 - may 18) 66) malibu rising ⇾ taylor jenkins reid (arc) / (may 18 - may 20) 67) twelfth night ⇾ william shakespeare (reread) / (may 21 - may 22) 68) to love and to loathe ⇾ martha waters (audiobook) / (may 20 - may 25) 69) ace of spades ⇾ faridah ábíké-íyímídé (arc) / (may 24 - may 25) 70) arsenic and adobo ⇾ mia p. manansala / (may 26 - may 28) 71) she’s too pretty to burn ⇾ wendy heard (audiobook) / (may 29) 72) coriolanus ⇾ william shakespeare / (may 22 - may 29) 73) one last stop ⇾ casey mcquiston (arc) / (may 29 - may 30) 74) like a love song ⇾ gabriela martins (arc) / (may 30) 75) the comedy of errors ⇾ william shakespeare / (may 31) 76) pride, prejudice, and other flavors ⇾ sonali dev (audiobook) / (may 30 - june 1) 77) the girls i’ve been ⇾ tess sharpe / (june 2 - june 5) 78) the box in the woods ⇾ maureen johnson (arc) / (june 6 - june 10) 79) recipe for persuasion ⇾ sonali dev (audiobook) / (june 1 - june 14) 80) charming as a verb ⇾ ben philippe (audiobook) / (june 15) 81) the obsession ⇾ jessie q. sutanto / (june 19 - june 20) 82) she drives me crazy ⇾ kelly quindlen (audiobook) / (june 27) 83) if we were villains ⇾ m.l. rio (reread, audiobook) / (june 28) 84) the atlas six ⇾ olivia blake / (june 19 - june 29) 85) ring round the moon ⇾ jean anoiih (reread) / (june 29 - june 30) 86) last chance books ⇾ kelsey rodkey (audiobook) / (july 1) 87) beauty and the beast ⇾ gabrielle-suzanne barbot de villeneuve / (july 2) 88) watch over me ⇾ nina lacour (audiobook) / (july 4 - july 5) 89) the grimrose girls ⇾ laura pohl (arc) / (july 3 - july 5) 90) a streetcar named desire ⇾ tennessee williams (reread, audiobook) / (july 6) 91) sense and sensibility ⇾ jane austen (audiobook) / (july 7) 92) make up break up ⇾ lily menon (audiobook) / (july 8 - july 9) 93) fools in love: fresh twists on romantic tales ⇾ multiple authors (arc, anthology) / (july 10) 94) teach me ⇾ olivia dade (audiobook) / (july 11 - july 13) 95) the bromance book club ⇾ lyssa kay adams (audiobook) / (july 13) 96) we can’t keep meeting like this ⇾ rachel lynn solomon / (july 12 - july 14) 97) some other now ⇾ sarah everett / (july 15 - july 17) 98) the ones we’re meant to find ⇾ joan he (physical & audiobook) / (july 18 - july 20) 99) break the fall ⇾ jennifer iacopelli / (july 21 - july 24) 100) working on a song: the lyrics of hadestown ⇾ anaïs mitchell / (july 27) 101) eurydice ⇾ sarah ruhl / (july 28) 102) hani and ishu’s guide to fake dating ⇾ adiba jaigirdar / (july 30 - july 31) 103) cool for the summer ⇾ dahlia adler (audiobook) / (aug 2) 104) beth & amy ⇾ virgina kanter (audiobook) / (aug 2 - aug 3) 105) heartstopper vol. 1⇾ alice oseman / (aug 4) 106) catch and cradle ⇾ katia rose / (aug 5 - aug 7) 107) get a life, chloe brown ⇾ talia hibbert (audiobook) / (aug 9) 108) mexican gothic ⇾ silvia moreno-garcia (audiiobook) / (aug 11) 109) when you get the chance ⇾ emma lord (arc) / (aug 11 - aug 12) 110) six of crows ⇾ leigh bardugo (audiobook) / (aug 13) 111) the dead and the dark ⇾ courtney gould / (aug 15 - aug 16) 112) the game can’t love you back ⇾ karole cozzo / (aug 17 - aug 18) 113) the roanoke girls ⇾ amy engel / (aug 18) 114) ninth house ⇾ leigh bardugo / (aug 3 - aug 21) 115) this poison heart ⇾ kalynn bayron / (aug 21 - aug 22) 116) i’m not dying with you tonight ⇾ kimberly jones & gilly segal / (aug 23) 117) check please! book #1 ⇾ ngozi ukazu / (aug 23) 118) last tang standing ⇾ lauren ho (audiobook) / (aug 23 - aug 24) 119) the castle school (for troubled girls) ⇾ alyssa sheinmel / (aug 24 - aug 25) 120) so many beginnings: a little women remix ⇾ bethany c. morrow / (aug 26 - aug 27) 121) legendborn ⇾ tracy deonn (audiobook) / (aug 25 - aug 27) 122) ayesha at last ⇾ uzma jalauddin / (aug 27 - aug 28) 123) the nature of witches ⇾ rachel griffin / (aug 28 - aug 29) 124) mad, bad & dangerous to know ⇾ samira ahmed (audiobook) / (aug 30 - aug 31) 125) this is how you lose the time war ⇾ amal el-mohtar and max gladstone (audiobook) / (sep 1) 126) the girls are never gone ⇾ sarah glenn marsh (arc) / (aug 30 - sep 2) 127) don’t ask me where i’m from ⇾ jennifer de leon / (sep 2 - sep 3) 128) fearless ⇾ mandy gonzalez / (sep 4) 129) xoxo ⇾ axie oh (audiobook) / (sep 4 - sep 5) 130) evidence of the affair ⇾ taylor jenkins reid (audiobook) / (sep 5) 131) the color purple ⇾ alice walker (audiobook) / (sep 5 - sep 6) 132) hang the moon ⇾ alexandria bellefleur / (sep 6) 133) what once was mine ⇾ liz boswell (audiobook) / (sep 7 - sep 8) 134) fat chance, charlie vega ⇾ crystal maldonado (audiobook, reread) / (sep 8) 135) a wish in the dark ⇾ christina soontornvat (audiobook) / (sep 9) 136) solo ⇾ kwame alexander (audiobook) / (sep 10) 137) fresh ⇾ margot wood / (sep 9 - sep 11) 138) tangled the series comic #1 ⇾ scott peterson / (sep 11) 139) tangled the series comic #2 ⇾ liz marsham / (sep 11) 140) tangled the series comic #3 ⇾ alessandro farrari / (sep 11) 141) disney princess comic #9: rapunzel ⇾ amy mebberson / (sep 11) 142) if we were villains ⇾ m.l. rio (reread, audiobook) / (sep 14) 143) check, please! junior year ⇾ ngozi ukazu / (sep 15) 144) check, please! senior year ⇾ ngozi ukazu / (sep 16) 145) up all night ⇾ multiple authors (anthology, audiobook) / (sep 16) 146) down comes the night ⇾ allison saft (audiobook) / (sep 17- sep 18) 147) tokyo ever after ⇾ emiko jean / (sep 15 - sep 18) 148) little women ⇾ louisa may alcott (reread) / (sep 11 - sep 19) 149) white smoke ⇾ tiffany d. jackson / (sep 18 - sep 19) 150) the last true poets of the sea ⇾ julia drake (audiobook) / (sep 20) 151) moorehead manor ⇾ david mcmullen-sullivan / (sep 20) 152) emma ⇾ jane austen (reread, audiobook) / (sep 21 - sep 22) 153) as if on cue ⇾ marisa kanter / (sep 22 - sep 23) 154) dial a for aunties ⇾ jessie q. sutanto (reread, audiobook) / (sep 23 - sep 24) 155) not here to be liked ⇾ michelle quach / (sep 23 - sep 24) 156) as good as dead ⇾ holly jackson (arc) / (sep 24 - sep 26) 157) they never learn ⇾ layne fargo (audiobook) / (sep 24 - sep 27) 158) luck of the titanic ⇾ stacey lee / (sep 24 - sep 27) 159) horrid ⇾ katrina leno (audibook) / (sep 28 - sep 29) 160) black broadway: african americans on the great why way ⇾ stewart f. lane / (sep 21 - sep 29) 161) the ex hex ⇾ erin sterling / (sep 30 - oct 1) 162) the jasmine project ⇾ meredith ireland (audiobook) / (oct 3 - oct 4) 163) macbeth ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (oct 4) 164) black water sister ⇾ zen chao (audiobook) / (oct 5 - oct 6) 165) a dowry of blood ⇾ s.t. gibson (audiobook) / (oct 10 - oct 11) 166) excuse me while i ugly cry ⇾ joya goffney (audiobook) / (oct 12) 167) glad you exist ⇾ kaye rockwell (arc) / (oct 15 - oct 16) 168) it happened one summer ⇾ tessa bailey / (oct 17) 169) not here to be liked ⇾ michelle quach (reread) / (oct 17 - oct 22) 170) the secret of the old clock ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 22) 171) catherine house ⇾ elisabeth thomas (audiobook) / (oct 22 - oct 23) 172) the hidden staircase ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 23) 173) the devil makes three ⇾ tori bovalino (audiobook) / (oct 25) 174) the bungalow mystery ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 26) 175) when night breaks ⇾ janella angeles / (oct 23 - oct 27) 176) the mystery at lilac inn ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 27) 177) you have a match ⇾ emma lord (reread, audiobook) / (oct 28) 178) the secret of shadow ranch ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 28) 179) rise to the sun ⇾ leah johnson (audiobook) / (oct 29) 180) the secret of red gate farm ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 29) 181) the clue in the diary ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (oct 31) 182) today tonight tomorrow ⇾ rachel lynn solomon (reread, audiobook) / (nov 1) 183) the beautiful ones ⇾ silvia moreno-garcia (audiiobook / (nov 2) 184) nancy’s mysterious letter ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (nov 6) 185) the sign of the twisted candles ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (nov 7) 186) password to larkspur lane ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (nov 8) 187) the clue in the broken locket ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (nov 10) 188) the message in the hollow oak ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (nov 13) 189) truly devious ⇾ maureen johnson (reread, audiobook) / (nov 15) 190) the vanishing stair ⇾ maureen johnson (reread, audiobook) / (nov 15) 191) the hand on the wall  ⇾ maureen johnson (reread, audiobook) / (nov 16) 192) the box in the woods ⇾ maureen johnson (reread, audiobook) / (nov 16) 193) our violent ends ⇾ chloe gong (reread, audiobook) / (nov 17) 194) a lesson in vengeance ⇾ victoria lee (audiobook) / (nov 19) 195) no filter and other lies ⇾ crystal maldonado (arc) / (nov 23 - nov 25) 196) when the girls are sleeping ⇾ emily arsenault (audiobook) / (nov 25 - nov 26) 197) a study in charlotte ⇾ brittany cavallaro (reread, audiobook) / (nov 28 - nov 29) 198) the last of august ⇾ brittany cavallaro (reread, audiobook) / (nov 29) 199) the case for jamie ⇾ brittany cavallaro (reread, audiobook) / (nov 29 - nov 30 200) the mystery of the ivory charm ⇾ carolyn keene (reread) / (nov 30) 201) a question of holmes ⇾ brittany cavallaro (reread, audiobook) / (nov 30 - dec 1) 202) long story short ⇾ serena kaylor (arc) / (nov 29 - dec 1) 203) much ado about you ⇾ samantha young (audiobook) / (dec 1 - dec 2) 204) tweet cute ⇾ emma lord (reread, audiobook) / (dec 3) 205) the bronzed beasts ⇾ roshani chokshi (audiobook) / (dec 7) 206) legendborn ⇾ tracy deonn (reread, audiobook) / (dec 9 - dec 13) 207)  if we were villains ⇾ m.l. rio (reread, audiobook) / (dec 20) 208) we can’t keep meeting like this ⇾ rachel lynn solomon (reread, audiobook) / (dec 27) 209) we wish you a merry grantmas (short) ⇾ morgan matson / (dec 27) 210) anne boleyn: 500 years of lies ⇾ hayley nolan (audiobook) / (dec 28 - dec 29) 211) julius caesar ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (dec 31) 212) macbeth ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (dec 31) 213) a midsummer night’s dream ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (dec 31) 214) hamlet ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (dec 31) 215) romeo and juliet ⇾ william shakespeare (reread, audiobook) / (dec 31)

[insanityclause]

In celebration of Earth Day 2021, Apple TV+ will debut “The Year Earth Changed,” an original documentary special narrated by Emmy and BAFTA Award-winning broadcaster David Attenborough, along with the second seasons of documentary series “Tiny World” and “Earth At Night In Color.” Set to premiere globally in more than 100 countries on April 16, 2021, each of these groundbreaking originals will captivate and inspire viewers to herald Earth Day, the world’s largest annual environmental movement.

“During this most difficult year, many people have reappraised the value and beauty of the natural world and taken great comfort from it,” said Attenborough. “But the lockdown also created a unique experiment that has thrown light on the impact we have on the natural world. The stories of how wildlife responded have shown that making even small changes to what we do can make a big difference.”

Showcasing exclusive footage from around the world after an unprecedented year, “The Year Earth Changed” is a timely documentary special that takes a fresh new approach to the global lockdown and the uplifting stories that have come out of it. From hearing birdsong in deserted cities, to witnessing whales communicating in new ways, to encountering capybaras in South American suburbs, people all over the world have had the chance to engage with nature like never before. In the one-hour special, viewers will witness how changes in human behaviour — reducing cruise ship traffic, closing beaches a few days a year, identifying more harmonious ways for humans and wildlife to coexist — can have a profound impact on nature. The documentary, narrated by David Attenborough, is a love letter to planet Earth, highlighting the ways nature bouncing back can give us hope for the future. “The Year Earth Changed” is produced by BBC Studios Natural History Unit, directed by Tom Beard, and executive produced by Mike Gunton and Alice Keens-Soper.

Returning for season two, “Tiny World,” narrated and executive produced by Paul Rudd (“Ant-Man”), grants viewers a unique perspective into the natural world, illuminating the ingenuity and resilience of the planet’s smallest creatures. With over 200 species filmed and 3,160 hours of footage, the six-episode docuseries shares surprising stories and spectacular cinematography that spotlight small creatures and the extraordinary things they do to survive. Captured on film for the first time are anemone shrimp, which clap to signal their intent as cleaners of predatory fish; the “biting” behaviour of fang blenny fish, filmed in slow-motion with unprecedented use of phantom high-speed cameras; and Etruscan shrews, known to be the hungriest mammals on earth. “Tiny World” is produced by Plimsoll Productions and is executive produced by Tom Hugh Jones, who also serves as writer with David Fowler. Grant Mansfield and Martha Holmes also serve as executive producers on behalf of Plimsoll Productions.

The groundbreaking original series “Earth At Night In Color” also returns for a second season with six all-new episodes narrated by Tom Hiddleston (“Avengers”). With the use of cutting-edge cameras and a revolutionary post-production process, “Earth At Night In Color” presents nature’s nocturnal wonders with striking new clarity. Some never-before-seen behaviours of animals after dark, captured using low-light cameras and light from a full moon, include elephants battling hyenas around starlit waterholes and kangaroos embracing under the cover of darkness to find a mate. Other animals in the new season include pumas, polar bears, manta rays, and tiny planktonic life at night in the ocean. “Earth At Night In Color” is produced by Offspring Films. The series is executive produced by Alex Williamson and series produced by Sam Hodgson.

“Tiny World” and “Earth At Night In Color” will be featured in a special Earth Day room on Apple TV+, showcasing a curated collection of content that embraces the theme of preserving the planet. Also included are the Cinema for Peace International Green Film Award-winning movie “The Elephant Queen” and “Here We Are: Notes for Living on Planet Earth,” which debuted last year on the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. The animated short film, based on the best-selling children’s book by Oliver Jeffers, is narrated by Meryl Streep. Jacob Tremblay stars as a precocious 7-year-old who, on the eve of Earth Day, learns about the wonders of the planet from his parents (Chris O’Dowd, Ruth Negga) and a mysterious exhibit at the aptly named Museum of Everything.

[lothiriel84]

Heart’s content

Here follows a (possibly incomplete) list of excellent audio/video content which saw me through this fine year of our Lord 2020 (for the purposes of this post, I’m only listing new material that was created/first made available over the course of this year):

Down (sci-fi podcast, currently on hiatus) by Definitely Human

A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe, read on YouTube by Simon Kane

Simon Goes Full Shakespeare, aka (some of) The Complete Works of Shakespeare, performed on YouTube by Simon Kane; currently includes The Two Gentlemen of Verona, The Taming of the Shrew, Titus Andronicus, Julius Caesar, and two different runs of Richard II

Cabin Fever, a post-Cabin Pressure YouTube series by John Finnemore

The Tall Tales Broadcast System (comedy podcast, also featuring a selection of songs from The Mighty Fin musicals) by Robert Hudson and the Tall Tales team 

BBC Ghosts series 2 + Christmas special (BBC One sitcom, currently available on iPlayer, along with series 1) written and performed by ThemThere, aka Mathew Baynton, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard, and Ben Willbond

The History of England (musical historical audio comedy for The Wireless Theatre Company) by Peter Davis

[skonnaris]

Books I’ve Read: 2006-2019

Alexie, Sherman - Flight

Anderson, Joan - A Second Journey

                          - An Unfinished Marriage

                          - A Walk on the Beach

                          - A Year By The Sea

Anshaw, Carol - Carry the One

Auden, W.H. - The Selected Poems of W.H. Auden

Austen, Jane - Pride and Prejudice

Bach, Richard - Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Bear, Donald R - Words Their Way

Berg, Elizabeth - Open House

Bly, Nellie - Ten Days in a Madhouse

Bradbury, Ray - Fahrenheit 451

                        - The Martian Chronicles

Brooks, David - The Road to Character

Brooks, Geraldine - Caleb’s Crossing

Brown, Dan - The Da Vinci Code

Bryson, Bill - The Lost Continent

Burnett, Frances Hodgson - The Secret Garden

Buscaglia, Leo - Bus 9 to Paradise

                         - Living, Loving & Learning

                         - Personhood

                         - Seven Stories of Christmas Love

Byrne, Rhonda - The Secret

Carlson, Richard - Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Carson, Rachel - The Sense of Wonder

                          - Silent Spring

Cervantes, Miguel de - Don Quixote

Cherry, Lynne - The Greek Kapok Tree

Chopin, Karen - The Awakening

Clurman, Harold - The Fervent Years: The Group Theatre & the 30s

Coelho, Paulo -  Adultery

                           The Alchemist

Conklin, Tara - The Last Romantics

Conroy, Pat - Beach Music

                    - The Death of Santini: The Story of a Father and His Son

                    - The Great Santini

                    - The Lords of Discipline

                    - The Prince of Tides

                    - The Water is Wide

Corelli, Marie - A Romance of Two Worlds

Delderfield, R.F. - To Serve Them All My Days

Dempsey, Janet - Washington’s Last Contonment: High Time for a Peace

Dewey, John - Experience and Education

Dickens, Charles - A Christmas Carol

                             - Great Expectations

                             - A Tale of Two Cities

Didion, Joan - The Year of Magical Thinking

Disraeli, Benjamin - Sybil

Doctorow, E.L. - Andrew’s Brain

                         - Ragtime

Doerr, Anthony - All the Light We Cannot See

Dreiser, Theodore - Sister Carrie 

Dyer, Wayne - Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life

                     - The Power of Intention

                     - Your Erroneous Zones

Edwards, Kim - The Memory Keeper’s Daughter

Ellis, Joseph J. - His Excellency: George Washington

Ellison, Ralph - The Invisible Man

Emerson, Ralph Waldo - Essays and Lectures

Felkner, Donald W. - Building Positive Self Concepts

Fergus, Jim - One Thousand White Women

Flynn, Gillian - Gone Girl

Follett, Ken - Pillars of the Earth

Frank, Anne - The Diary of a Young Girl

Freud, Sigmund - The Interpretation of Dreams

Frey, James - A Million Little Pieces

Fromm, Erich - The Art of Loving

                       - Escape from Freedom

Fulghum, Robert - All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

Fuller, Alexandra - Leaving Before the Rains Come

Garield, David - The Actors Studion: A Player’s Place

Gates, Melinda - The Moment of Lift

Gibran, Kahlil - The Prophet

Gilbert, Elizabeth - Eat, Pray, Love

                            - The Last American Man

                            - The Signature of All Things

Ginsburg, Ruth Bader - My Own Words

Girzone, Joseph F, - Joshua

                               - Joshua and the Children

Gladwell, Malcom - Blink

                              - David and Goliath

                              - Outliers

                              - The Tipping Point

                              - Talking to Strangers

Glass, Julia - Three Junes

Goodall, Jane - Reason for Hope

Goodwin, Doris Kearnes - Team of Rivals

Graham, Steve - Best Practices in Writing Instruction

Gray, John - Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus

Groom, Winston - Forrest Gump

Gruen, Sarah - Water for Elephants

Hannah, Kristin - The Great Alone

                          - The Nightingale

Harvey, Stephanie and Anne Goudvis - Strategies That Work

Hawkins, Paula - The Girl on the Train

Hedges, Chris - Empire of Illusion

Hellman, Lillian - Maybe

                         - Pentimento

Hemingway - Ernest - A Moveable Feast

Hendrix, Harville - Getting the Love You Want

Hesse, Hermann - Demian

                            - Narcissus and Goldmund

                            - Peter Camenzind

                            - Siddhartha

                            - Steppenwolf

Hilderbrand, Elin - The Beach Club

Hitchens, Christopher - God is Not Great

Hoffman, Abbie - Soon to be a Major Motion Picture 

                          - Steal This Book

Holt, John - How Children Fail

                  - How Children Learn

                 - Learning All the Time

                 - Never Too Late

Hopkins, Joseph - The American Transcendentalist

Horney, Karen - Feminine Psychology

                        - Neurosis and Human Growth

                        - The Neurotic Personality of Our Time

                        - New Ways in Psychoanalysis

                        - Our Inner Conflicts

                        - Self Analysis

Hosseini, Khaled - The Kite Runner

Hoover, John J, Leonard M. Baca, Janette K. Klingner - Why Do English Learners Struggle with Reading?

Janouch, Gustav - Conversations with Kafka

Jefferson, Thomas - Crusade Against Ignorance

Jong, Erica - Fear of Dying

Joyce, Rachel - The Love Song of Miss Queenie Hennessy

                       - The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry

Kafka, Franz - Amerika

                      - Metamophosis

                      - The Trial     

Kallos, Stephanie - Broken For You  

Kazantzakis, Nikos - Zorba the Greek

Keaton, Diane - Then Again

Kelly, Martha Hall - The Lilac Girls

Keyes, Daniel - Flowers for Algernon

King, Steven - On Writing

Kornfield, Jack - Bringing Home the Dharma

Kraft, Herbert - The Indians of Lenapehoking - The Lenape or Delaware Indians: The Original People of NJ, Southeastern New York State, Eastern Pennsylvania, Northern Delaware and Parts of Western Connecticut

Kundera, Milan - The Unbearable Lightness of Being

Lacayo, Richard - Native Son

Lamott, Anne - Bird by Bird

                         Word by Word

L’Engle, Madeleine - A Wrinkle in Time

Lahiri, Jhumpa - The Namesake

Lappe, Frances Moore - Diet for a Small Planet

Lee, Harper - To Kill a Mockingbird

Lems, Kristin et al  - Building Literacy with English Language Learners

Lewis, Sinclair - Main Street

London, Jack - The Call of the Wild

Lowry, Lois - The Giver

Mander, Jerry - Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television

Marks, John D. - The Search for the Manchurian Candidate: The CIA and Mind         Control

Martel, Yann - Life of Pi

Maslow, Abraham - The Farther Reaches of Human Nature

                              - Motivation and Personality

                              - Religions, Values, and Peak Experiences

                             - Toward a Psychology of Being                            

Maugham. W. Somerset - Of Human Bondage

                                        - Christmas Holiday

Maurier, Daphne du - Rebecca

Mayes, Frances - Under the Tuscan Sun

Mayle, Peter - A Year in Provence

McCourt, Frank - Angela’s Ashes

                          - Teacher man

McCullough, David - 1776

                                - Brave Companions

McEwan, Ian - Atonement

                      - Saturday

McLaughlin, Emma - The Nanny Diaries

McLuhan, Marshall - Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man

Meissner, Susan - The Fall of Marigolds

Millman, Dan - Way of the Peaceful Warrior

Moehringer, J.R. - The Tender Bar

Moon, Elizabeth - The Speed of Dark

Moriarty, Liane - The Husband’s Sister

                         - The Last Anniversary

                         - What Alice Forgot

Mortenson, Greg - Three Cups of Tea

Moyes, Jo Jo - One Plus One

                       - Me Before You 

Ng, Celeste - Little Fires Everywhere

Neill, A.S. - Summerhill

Noah, Trevor - Born a Crime

O’Dell, Scott - Island of the Blue Dolphins

Offerman, Nick - Gumption

O’Neill, Eugene - Long Day’s Journey Into Night

                            A Touch of the Poet

Orwell, George - Animal Farm

Owens, Delia - Where the Crawdads Sing

Paulus, Trina - Hope for the Flowers

Pausch, Randy - The Last Lecture

Patchett, Ann - The Dutch House

Peck, Scott M. - The Road Less Traveled

                         - The Road Less Traveled and Beyond

Paterson, Katherine - Bridge to Teribithia

Picoult, Jodi - My Sister’s Keeper

Pirsig, Robert - Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Puzo, Mario - The Godfather

Quindlen, Anna - Black and Blue

Radish, Kris - Annie Freeman’s Fabulous Traveling Funeral

Redfield, James - The Celestine Prophecy

Rickert, Mary - The Memory Garden

Rogers, Carl - On Becoming a Person

Ruiz, Miguel - The Fifth Agreement

                     - The Four Agreements

                     - The Mastery of Love

Rum, Etaf - A Woman is No Man

Saint-Exupery, Antoine de - The Little Prince

Salinger, J.D. - Catcher in the Rye

Schumacher, E.F. - Small is Beautiful

Sebold, Alice - The Almost Moon

                       - The Lovely Bones

Shaffer, Mary Ann and Anne Barrows - The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

Shakespeare, William - Alls Well That Ends Well

                                   - Much Ado About Nothing

                                   - Romeo and Juliet

                                   - The Sonnets

                                   - The Taming of the Shrew

                                   - Twelfth Night

                                   - Two Gentlemen of Verona

Sides, Hampton - Hellhound on his Trail: The Stalking of Martin Luther King, Jr. and the International Hunt for His Assassin

Silverstein, Shel - The Giving Tree

Skinner, B.F. - About Behaviorism

Smith, Betty - A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Snyder, Zilpha Keatley - The Velvet Room

Spinelli, Jerry - Loser

Spolin, Viola - Improvisation for the Theater

Stanislavski, Constantin - An Actor Prepares

Stedman, M.L. - The Light Between Oceans

Steinbeck, John - Travels with Charley

Steiner, Peter - The Terrorist

Stockett, Kathryn - The Help

Strayer, Cheryl - Wild

Streatfeild, Dominic - Brainwash

Strout, Elizabeth - My Name is Lucy Barton

Tartt, Donna - The Goldfinch

Taylor, Kathleen - Brainwashing: The Science of Thought Control

Thomas, Matthew - We Are Not Ourselves

Thoreau, Henry David - Walden

Tolle, Eckhart - A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose

                      - The Power of Now

Towles, Amor - A Gentleman in Moscow

                       - Rules of Civility

Tracey, Diane and Lesley Morrow - Lenses on Reading

Traub, Nina - Recipe for Reading

Tzu, Lao - Tao Te Ching

United States Congress - Project MKULTRA, the CIA's program of research in behavioral modification: Joint hearing before the Select Committee on Intelligence and the ... Congress, first session, August 3, 1977

Van Allsburg, Chris - Just a Dream

                                - Polar Express

                                - Sweet Dreams

                                - Stranger

                                - Two Bad Ants

Walker, Alice - The Color Purple

Waller, Robert James - Bridges of Madison County

Warren, Elizabeth - A Fighting Chance

Waugh, Evelyn - Brideshead Revisited

Weir, Andy - The Martian

Weinstein, Harvey M. - Father, Son and CIA

Welles, Rebecca - The Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood

Westover, Tara - Educated

White, E.B. - Charlotte’s Web

Wilde, Oscar - The Picture of Dorien Gray

Wolfe, Tom - I Am Charlotte Simmons

Wolitzer, Meg - The Female Persuasion

Woolf, Virginia - Mrs. Dalloway

Zevin, Gabrielle - The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry

Zusak, Marcus - The Book Thief

[lady-plantagenet]

A Bygone Era - Chapter 1

A fictionalised account of Isabel Neville’s life from the point of view of her and those close to her.

So far told through the points of view of: Anne Beauchamp 16th Countess of Warwick.

5th September 1451

As each gust of wind veered and swooped around the pointed turrets of Warwick castle, it would not surrender its strength before first claiming a tawny leaf from the hazel trees. The emerald blush of the castle grounds: the summer green that made the tableaux of the landscape ever more poignant just a few months ago, was now fading into a browner more lifeless hue.

Having seen twenty-five summers, the countess was hardly a young lass at the cusp of womanhood. Her half-sister Margaret was six years younger than she when she bore her first child, Elizabeth even more so. Labour was harder for those years past their first flowering. The pain in her back and hips seemed to sting her everytime she drew breath, her head felt uneasy on her shoulders as the exertion of the birth seemed to have pushed all the air out of her. However, there were none to pity her or lay at her feet praising her for the beautiful daughter she had just provided - the Earl of Warwick needed a son.

Even my wretched ladies seem less eager to attend to me. Especially Martha. She thinks herself above me now, for the whelp she bore her minor knight of a husband was a boy.

‘Jesus wept’ snapped Anne ‘may I not be washed and given a morsel of food or even the child?’

A tremble hit Martha and Agnes before they bound down the castle stairs, one with a washbasin nestled under an arm and the other clutching at a gilded platter. Not since she was a little girl had Anne raised her voice beyond a ladylike drone. Those two did not know that, hence the agitation.

‘Begging your pardon milady’ said a breathless Agnes while handing her some bread and salt and Isabel, rosy and clean from the nursemaid’s scrubbing.

Anne tilted her head letting her long auburn tresses fall over into the silver washbowl that Martha brought. While the labour of childbirth was scrubbed off her, she looked at the babe before her. Isabel slowly opened her eyes with a lack of enthusiasm so uncommon to a newborn babe. They were the phantasmagorical green of the turbulent sea.

A beauty that would rally the men of the field to pick up swords and fight god himself it was not.

Though not even an hour unto this world, Isabel’s fair face had no suggestion of roundness, but was a slender oval. The small mouth had a suggestion of full lips and the thin tuft of hair on her head appeared flaxen - though Anne knew it would darken to Richard’s chestnut brown in little time.

A beauty of ice instead maybe. A Despenser, Montacute, Beauchamp and Neville fit for a king or at least a duke who would be immensely drawn to those features, so like those of a statue. Let the golden haired, sky-eyed buxom jezebels catch the eyes of peasant boys and mercenaries. My Isabel shall rouse the very rose of Plantagenet with a face that only generations of careful breeding since the age of the conquest could produce. Because with these she shows herself a daughter of Warwick - and what man would not rally behind that?

At first Anne thought she could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops, but the sound grew sharper resembling a thundercloud heralding a Warwickshire late summer storm.

As the sound of the bailey’s gravel amplified the countess’ entire body shot up so fast that she could feel a surging pain through her spine. The kingmaker had arrived.

The years have proven that the lack of a heir did nothing to dull the earl’s affections for his wife. As he leaped from his horse in one refined movement and took Anne into his arms, she once more felt like a newly wed bride greeting her betrothed outside Bisham Abbey.

She winced as he roughly pulled her into a arduous kiss marvelling at how deliciously crude this gesture was in contrast to his previous elegant one. He may be an earl but he is also a soldier, and above that a man quenching his thirst after months on dry land. And how could he not? At just a couple of inches below his height and still lithe and thin after just moments of childbirth, Anne had the elegance of a water nymph. As Richard was stroking her cheeks he could not help but gaze in awe at the bonny eyes whose colour so much resembled the burnished emerald of her ancestral land.

‘My son how fare he?’ He asked with impatient excitement ‘A strong lad is he not?’

Anne’s chest tightened as if the gusts of wind from a few hours ago were filling her lungs like saltwater would a drowning sailor’s. It is my entire fault. I should never have told him I knew I was carrying a son. All mothers share the same musings about their firstborn, they can not all be right.

‘My Lord husband’ she began adopting a more formal tone ‘It is a girl and I have decided to call her Isabel after mother’

To her relief his smile reappeared. ‘How fitting. The second Lady Isabel Neville’

Anne looked noticeably confused.

‘Ah you do not know then? Isabel de Neville was the daughter and sole heiress of the Norman Geoffrey de Neville and wife of Robert Ritzmaldred a son of the Earls of Northumbria and Etheldred II’ he grinned ‘By the time Lionheart was crowned and fighting his wars in the foreign lands of the east, no one could then gainsay the Plantagenet dynasty so Geoffrey took the Neville name as his own to sit at the high tables of the Norman nobility’

Her husband was so taken up with his tales of Saxon princes and Gospatric of Northumbria that she had to lead him through the great hall and up the winding staircase like a mother hen guiding a sleep-heavy child to its bed. I have done this before she started to remember I was nine and he seven, and we were right here on those stairs. If truth be told my mother had invited Lady Alice to introduce her son as my betrothed in guise of a St Crispin’s day luncheon invitation. By then I have perfected my curtsey and broke the nasty habit of handling my skirts, so I was finally considered worthy of social presentation. They bid me go show him all around the castle grounds and I played hostess thinking I had merely gained another playmate - though he might not have been so easily duped. To think where we are now.

In her apartments Isabel lay satisfied in her cot having just received her milk and with Margaret and the nursemaid hovering over her dotingly.

‘Ah dear wife’ proclaimed Richard ‘it seems her and Margaret would make splendid companions - she had always wanted a sister’. With one small step he picks her up and kisses her on the forehead. The little girl giggled at that, her wide smile squeezing her cornflower blue eyes in satisfied lines.

Ah yes the bastard daughter. Richard’s little indiscretion. The newborn girl that greeted me at Middleham where we first appeared as man and wife, before all our sisters, John and dear Henry- could it really have been eight years past? It feels like just yesterday I buried my dear brother.

Anne became a stone statue as Agnes was at work binding her straight auburn strands into a china blue crespine whose cauls were covered in wide copper netting to complement her Burgundian gown. The dress’ saffron skirts were piercing beams of summer against the burnished autumn hue of the kirtle that latched tightly against her pert chest. The image of his darling wife rushing past the stony keep and into the courtyard seeming more woman than countess with her hair tumbling about her, must have made the earl’s heart wrench with delight for this sun goddess of a woman that he now possessed. I chose his favourite dress, but for that remark I shall choose the most matronly headdress - the one he hates. I shall take it off when he begs my pardon for all this inappropriate cooing over the bastard.

With the classic lack of concern customary of a pre-occupied magnate, Richard did not notice his wife’s minuscule act of defiance. Ever since the death of little Anne two years past, one of England’s greatest earldoms had burdened her husband with its great expectations. Ever since parliament declared her sole heiress over her half-sisters, Richard’s mind was constantly operating in tandem between the world before him and the world next morrow.

Thankfully he eventually sensed the tension surrounding him soon enough to act swiftly and pick up Isabel. The baby’s eyes that only moments ago seemed to lay frozen in her face, lit up with an excitement spreading throughout her whole expression, culminating in a joyful squirm as her father cradled her. Anne started to worry that the disappointment surrounding her sex had started to be rescepted by Isabel. She was now relieved to see the prevention of that.

‘Dear god Anne’ said Richard not tearing his eyes off Isabel ‘What a jewel you have given me’

The heartfelt display thawed the ice that previously had a hold over Anne’s heart as she let out a smiling sigh of relief that after months enraptured in the gripping power plays and intrigues of a royal court, Isabel did not disappoint.

‘As beautiful as her lady mother’ he continued before flashing a knight’s dazzling smile. A smile devoid of vulgarity and void of mummery. A smile so chivalrous that it belonged in Camelot.

He knows to appeal to my vanity the wicked man. Shame on him and his courtier’s tricks.

Before she could damn him further he gently tugged at the hem of her sleeves, bringing her close enough to folder her in his arms with Isabel. She made her peace. ‘Remind me, my sweet, what is the meaning of her Christian name?’ He asked

‘Pledged to God’ Anne smiled ‘As we all are’

‘As we all must be. The war against France has weakened our king. That shrew of a maid of Orleans has marked the demise of any chance we may ever have to hold true power in France’ he started complaining vociferously. And now he recommences. I find it passing incredible how nearly everything I say he takes as a prompt to indulge himself into one of his soliloquies. Today he bemoans England’s fortunes in “the useless war.” ‘... with any luck our recapturing of Bordeaux would at least render this war not a complete loss.’

‘I hear Talbot shall be leading the command. If Gascony were taken back that would bring glory to-’

‘The glory of the Lancastrian rose is of no concern to me Anne’ Richard interrupted suddenly ‘I need this wasteful war to cease so that my father may regain his men and deal with Percy once and for all.’

‘For shame my Lord husband! You mean to tell me you’re heart does not yearn for the chivalry of defeating the lily of France?’ teased Anne playfully ‘Does your heart not beat red for Lancaster and the quest of justice to fulfill their ancestral claims?’

Any other day Richard would respond to Anne’s coyness the way she liked. It was one of their oldest customs. A couple of japes would be passed back and forth always leading to him jokingly proclaiming her a disobedient woman while slowly lifting her skirts and punishing her as if she were an unruly wench eagerly accepting what punishment her lord sees fit. Today something was different and Anne admittedly felt a little more than hurt.

‘Nay wife. Red for the bear and ragged staff. The only cause I believe in. My father was right; this simpleton of a King is incapable of responding to our petitions. We are of royal blood and wardenship of the West March does make us far more capable of keeping Percy tenants in good support. If the Lancastrians of Westminster choose to preoccupy themselves with the lost cause which is the French crown I see no reason to continue blindly serving this line of usurpers.’

Anne froze. Though far from an emotional man, Richard usually delighted in being the cause of his own flights of fury. She would sit on the ledge by the solar windowpanes attentively as he would in his lectures damn half a dozen men and complain endlessly about anything between Beaufort’s incompetence and the treacherous Percys. The series after the Scottish wars was the most heartfelt.

Today’s sermon was delivered in a frigid manner devoid of any of the four humours nor spite. It was the discourse of a man already deep in planning

Choleric or not, Richard was ravenous, downing one slice of capon dipped in melted spiced butter after the other. His return was especially rejoiced by Cook Royce whose pregnant mistress’ cravings for the mundane poussin and squab had left him with no opportunity for great culinary creative expression.

The Goyart tapestries on the soot grey walls of the great hall have been changed for the richer and more sombre Flemish tapestries. Her favourite depicted a fair haired maiden lying sombrely on the juniper grass guarded by maned lions. She pointed her mirror towards the unicorn as if to reveal to him his own magic, though his horn did not reflect in the mirror like the rest of his comely face. Ah the scintillating nature of magic. God reveals himself in ways that elude most. She thought back to all the miracles she thought she had witnessed in her girlhood. Blue roses appearing in winter, the butterfly with transparent wings, even the draft and light from the glass window working in conjunction, turning her to the appropriate page and shining blue light upon the bible passage so her governess would not realise she was not attentive...

‘Ah yes, do you like them Anne? They were part of the Dowager Duchess of Bedford’s dowry, given to the crown in part payment for the dishonour that was her illicit marriage’ Richard said after finally lifting his head from the plate

‘The lady Jacquetta led quite a scandal’ started Anne ‘How is she fareing shacked up with her squire?’

‘Last I heard he was made Baron Rivers’

‘A fanciful title’

‘Still not one a mere country squire merits. I highly doubt it will ever bring in the income to sufficiently maintain the widow of Prince John in the luxury to which she grew accustomed.’

‘The luxury she grew accustomed to as the daughter of Peter of Luxembourg would prove to be the more insurmountable standard for Woodville to reach.’

‘What are you trying to say my lady?’ Richard began teasing ‘Do our English comforts no longer satisfy yours or the Duchess’ lofty needs?’

‘I only say, husband, that just as the Italian duchies are rife with classical art, bards singing dulcet tones and those technologies - whatever they would be, Duke Philip has his own cohort of artists and inventors. The ‘Burgundian School’ is so accomplished our very own John Dunstaple has joined their ranks...’ Richard’s fatigue was waning his attention until his wife stood up from the oak long table and spun around. The flashes of the yellow silk at the skirts extending out with each movement and encircling the amber coloured kirtle as if she were the sun itself come down from the heavens to grace and bring calm to her particularly agitated earl. ‘...and this.’ Anne finished referring to the Burgundian fashions. For dramatic effect she pointed her elbows high to present the same pomegranate pattern adornishing the trimmings of the long jagged sleeves - and as he later noticed - the lining of the deep v-neckline of the dress.

‘Jesus wept’ Richard exclaimed ‘What could have possibly possessed me and drawn me away from noticing the beauty of your gown, for so long?’

By then all the food was dispensed with and the hall was clear of servants. In the privacy of the ancient great hall and enraptured with the smell of fresh rushes the Earl of Warwick drew his wife onto his lap. Anne happily obliged as eagerly as a moth to a flame and threw her arms around his neck tangling her long fingers in his shoulder-length woodland brown hair as she kissed him. Improper public displays like this were a rarity and almost never passed between the Earl and Countess of Warwick, but betwixt the lengthy separation, a wife’s adoration and splendid supper neither could help themselves.

I see Isabel’s birth has not made him wroth at me. Perchance he will one day grow to love her as much as I do.

As if capable of reading her mind Richard drew her in even closer for a longer more ardent kiss. Not the polite type a knight would give his elusive ladylove.

‘No verbalisation of mine could ever express my gratitude for your birthing of such a perfect babe, I shall love Isabel as dearly as others love their sons’

‘God will give us a son soon my love, I promise you that....’ Anne started

‘Even if he does not, lest we forget the running tradition of female heiresses in both our lines’ Richard gently said while his fingers traced the hem marking the end of Anne’s kirtle and the tender skin above her breasts. It was no secret that her vast inheritance served as a point of pride for her husband; few knew it was also an aphrodisiac. ‘The finest men in the kingdom will vie for her hand in marriage’.

Anne nestled her weary head in the crook of his neck adjusting so the sharp corners of her caul do not dig into his neck before saying ‘She is too young to even contemplate such a thing.’ She was playing the doting mother. I would not admit to anyone that just hours after her birth I had been lining up a list of names in my head. Most women would think that only shrews and wicked mothers work in that way. But these women were not born to be heiresses like I was and Isabel is. Her and I are of a different breed.

‘Margaret of Anjou is taking very young girls into her service nowadays. Jacquetta Rivers’ eldest Elizabeth had been appointed lady-in-Waiting since she was just ten and three’

‘It never ceases to amaze me how many lives those Woodvilles have’ Anne chortled ‘not even the biggest scandal of Christendom could bar them from the court or king’s favour.’

‘For all of Lady Rivers’ ambitions this is the highest her or any of her brats could ever rise to. For all her fabled beauty, last I heard Elizabeth is pre-contracted to marry a modest Leicester knight like her father. Now just imagine the great marriages Isabel will have to choose from, when the time comes for her to be brought to court’ said Richard

‘Just imagine’ replied Anne wistfully ‘the greatest lady of the land - second only to the Rose of Anjou herself.’

Read the other 4 Chapters here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22268239/chapters/53175664

[kylorengarbagedump]

Little Bird: Chapter 10 (NSFWish)

Read on AO3. Part 9 here. Part 11 here.

Summary: Fine, you'll admit that your Commander has manipulated you. That was intention this entire time. Right?

Words: 2500

Warnings: Handmaid AU, Oops! All Feelings :(

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: WOW WELCOME TO MY UPDATE APPROXIMATELY 10 MONTHS LATER. AMAZING TRULY REVOLUTIONARY.

In all honesty, I have no idea what happened, but writing that one-shot just got me fired up to write a chapter for this piece! I really hope you enjoyed it, because I'm trying to up the ante a lil bit!

Thank you so much for reading, everyone! I love you <3

Where were the damn wings?

Before you replied, you squatted, groping the ground, shimmying back as your head spun to find your wings. Something firm brushed your ankle, and you snagged it from underneath your dress, face warm while you tugged the covering over your scalp. Pinching your lips between your teeth, you glanced at Emma, like this would suffice as an answer.

She frowned--as if she were disappointed. “What is going on?”

Your jaw tightened. “Do I really need to answer that?”

The crickets seemed deafening, now. Emma’s full cheeks glowed pink. She shook her head, a long sigh falling through her nose. “You have to be careful,” she mumbled. “Just follow me.”

Head bowed, you obeyed, tucking the rest of your hair into your wings as you walked. She led you back past the pond, grass rustling under your feet while you avoided the backdoor and moved to the side of the house--a place you’d never been. Your heart skipped. Emma wouldn’t sell you out. Would she?

Swallowing, you murmured, “So…”  

“I heard noise,” she said. “That’s why I came outside.”

“Oh,” you replied. “What, uh, what… did you hear?”

“Voices.”

“You didn’t… see? Hear anything else?”

Emma snorted softly. “You don’t need to be caught with his tongue in your mouth to hang for it.”

Your ears burned. On one hand, you couldn’t be more grateful that Emma had been the one to find you. Out of everyone in the home, besides Ren himself, she seemed the least interested in getting you strung up by your neck. But in Gilead, everyone had a tipping point--Emma included. Being Marthas, she and Rose had the least to lose, and the most to gain from a tentative allegiance with Johana. But the grace of humanity had kept you noose-free, so far. Ren was right to fear its weaponization.

“What do you think of the system?” you whispered. “Of Gilead.”

Emma stopped at a white-painted door at the side of the home, hesitating to find the knob when she realized it was already cracked open. She paused, and then looked back at you, brow furrowed. “I think you need to be quiet and go to bed. Goodnight.”

She disappeared into the darkness of the house, footsteps soft scrapes against the floorboards. Face on fire, you eased the door shut behind you and snuck back to your room.

Weeks passed without another incident. For all of Ren’s talk of knowing you, he didn’t seem very dedicated to the idea. You’d barely shared a word with him since the night in the garden. There were evenings, though, when he’d arrive home, and you’d feel his eyes stick to you, the lewd tangle of thoughts in his mind almost audible. During these moments, you’d both stare for long and empty seconds, willing your fantasies to meld in the space between your bodies before being stolen back to reality. A brainless, needy part of you loved this--as if you were privy to his desires, knowing him in a way that even Johana couldn’t. The mere illusion of of power, of importance was enough to get you high, and you craved more, craved to have this part of him all to yourself, to be, in the simplest terms, special.

That was how he did it, you supposed--a few weeks of absence had been enough to make your heart grow fonder, to make you forget his demand you accept your role. It soothed the rejection and fear of vulnerability within you. And even though you knew his intention, knew that this was all to distract you from talking, from asking questions, knew that it was meant to keep you loyal to him, you didn’t care. You wanted, needed a moment with him alone, needed to soothe the primal ache in your body that throbbed in the absence of his touch.

Had he broken you? After all, you didn’t just need him. You needed to know him.

It was difficult to determine when you’d sneak out to find him. It would need to be during the day, you figured, so that if you were found wandering the home you’d have some sort of plausible excuse. In planning, you found it much easier to avoid Johana than anticipated--for whatever reason, her presence had been far less oppressive in the past few weeks. Rather than stomping down the halls on her tiny feet, she floated through the house, suspended on invisible wings. You hadn’t seen her so much as snarl at you in days. The reason didn’t matter, and you didn’t much care. All the more simple for you to get at what you wanted.

One issue: Ren was typically absent during the day. You’d seen him come home early once or twice, but had never managed to catch him--and catching him would’ve been your only shot. You settled on an innocuous meandering through the front gardens after your walk, something you’d really never bothered to do, regardless, in hopes you’d be the one to meet him at the door. By chance, of course.

As you wandered outside, you winced at the sun, hanging bright in the mid-afternoon. Huge beds of red, yellow, and purple flowers were shaded by tall grasses, spiral stone paths winding out from the gates and to the entrance. Near the grasses, benches sat to provide a view of the blooming plants--given the heat, you shuffled there, the sound of stone along your shoes quickening your heart. Anxiety fluttered in your belly, through your arms, down to your toes, an excited grin creeping onto your face. A whisper of shame followed.

What the hell was wrong with you? Plotting to seduce your Commander, burgeoning anticipation for his presence? Of course, you needed to accept reality, but did you need to be so damn giddy about it? The insight into your own manipulation failed to make it any less pathetic. When you sat, the voice of shame screamed for you to stand back up, to get back in the house, to forget anything with Ren had ever happened. But the memory of his kiss--that desperate tenderness of his lips, the glimmer of emotion in his eyes under the starlight--there was something unshakable in those moments. Something that, to you, seemed like hope.

You’d cling to any flicker of that in the eternal darkness of your existence.

Or maybe it was just easier to rationalize that you were doing this by choice, rather than following the traitorous desire of your body to get railed again. If only you could sit your subconscious down and explain to it that you were being held as a captive for your uterus. Perhaps then it would understand the context that made its cravings so vile.

But whether it was hope, or whether it was stupidity, you remained on the bench.

As you followed the path of bees from stamen to stamen, the front door opened--and Johana stepped out. Heat rushed your neck, and you snapped your head to the ground, hoping to appear preoccupied. But not a single derogatory word came out of her mouth.

“Oh,” you heard her say, “I was looking for you. Didn’t think I’d find you out here.”

Swallowing, you glanced up. “You were, uh, looking for me?”

In what seemed to be a dream, or maybe nightmare, Johana fucking smiled. “I was.” The sight of it on her face--genuine, and directed toward you--seemed so alien that you pinched your thigh. Nope. Still awake.

Her quick steps carried her to the bench in a few breaths, and she sat next to you, still grinning. The radiance of her presence chilled your spine. Johana had always sulked through the world, eyes sunken, her face tight and pointed like a shrew’s--but in the light of today’s sun, she seemed… beautiful. The cheeks that seemed hollow now seemed blessed with high, sharp bones--which were quite pretty--and you noticed now that the line of her jaw was well-defined, that she had a small dusting of freckles along the bridge of her nose. A flush revived her sallow skin. Her irises glittered, blue and clear as water.

Forget what was wrong with you. What was wrong with her?

She took your hand in hers, cradling it like a child’s. “I wanted to apologize to you. For being so cruel.”

You pinched yourself again. Nope. “Oh. Well--”

“I recognize the service you’re doing for our family,” she said. “I don’t want you to think that I’m ungrateful. Really, it’s my dream to raise a child with the Commander.”

“Um…” Not one inspired word came to your lips. “You… Uh…” Were you honestly going to thank her for praising your service as a womb slave? “This is, uh, this is just unexpected for me.”

She nodded, furrowing her brow. “Well. I can understand that. But things have changed.” She squeezed your hand. “I would love for you to forgive me. I’m looking forward to participating in the Ceremony with you tomorrow night.”

Fire licked your neck. You were thankful to be wearing gloves--your palms were sweating. “It’s tomorrow night?” You couldn’t believe you’d forgotten.

“Yes,” she replied, smiling. “It’s important for us to work together so my child can be brought into the world--so I hope you do accept my apology.”

Before you could speak, the Commander’s car rolled into the driveway and coasted to a stop, causing you both to crank your heads in its direction. Johana’s grip crushed your fingers. Seething, you tried to meet her gaze, but found her entirely focused on the car, eyes wide and face beaming. Something sunk in your stomach. It wasn’t a squeeze of admonishment--it was a squeeze of exhilaration.

Ren stepped out of the car, buttoning his suit jacket, catching the stare of his Wife as he looked toward the front door. You knew he must have noticed you, as well, but if he did, there wasn’t even the slightest acknowledgement of your presence. He moved toward the both of you, shoes clacking on the path, failing to glimpse you for even the slightest of seconds. This should have been what you wanted, as a Handmaid--to exist as a statue, translucent under the Eyes, a phantom in his presence. But the gnawing in your stomach continued.

“Good afternoon, Johana.” He stopped at the side of the bench, and Johana released your hand. Finally. “I didn’t expect to find you out here.” You wondered if anyone expected anyone to be outside in the world of Gilead.

Johana smiled again. Her large, white teeth split her face in two. “Oh, yes, sir,” she said. “I was actually apologizing to our Handmaid. For how I’ve been.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed, moving to scan the garden. “Really.” He wiggled his wedding band around his finger, twisting it toward his palm. A breeze ruffled the thick waves of his hair. “Mature of you.”

“Well,” she said, “I want the absolute best outcome for our child. Don’t you?”

“Mm.” His chest fell in a soft sigh, and he turned back to her. “I’ll be upstairs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ren walked to the door and disappeared inside. It was as if you weren’t even there.

Johana spun around, excitement crackling off of her, and took your hand again. “Well? You forgive me, don’t you?”

Your gaze fell from the door, to the grass, to your gloved hand, wrapped in hers. The longer you stared, the more distant it seemed. “Yes. I do.”

“Wonderful.” She let you go, standing up and smoothing her skirt. “I’ll leave you be. And I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” She supplied you with a final grin, and went inside, the sunshine leaving with her.

You sat, mind spinning. There was a reason Johana’s behavior churned your guts--and in horror, you realized it was jealousy. A Handmaid, jealous of a Wife. It was pitiful. After all, they were married. You were the interloper. But you rewound your earlier justifications. The idea that Ren, buried underneath his hypocrisy, might have cared for you--the hope that the existence of his compassion could, one day, mean freedom. Escape.

Perhaps that was the reason he’d been all but ignoring you. That it wasn’t because he was trying to draw you in, but because he was with her. And if he’d really been ignoring you in favor of her, someone you’d always thought he found repulsive, after that night those weeks ago--what did that mean for your future?

But there had to be another reason. You knew that he felt something different with you. Something Johana would never give him.

Right?

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood. You knew your logic was faulty, but the gnawing ache in your stomach was now a ravenous pain. Before you understood what you were doing, you were marching into the house, slipping through the sunny halls, and tip-toeing your way up the iron staircase, hoping to avoid Johana’s nauseating positivity. You’d prove to yourself that hope was alive. And you’d at least bring her behavior up to him. After all, this had been your plan from the beginning--to see him, alone.

Acid burbled inside you. The one day you were lucky enough for him to come home early…

When you reached the top of the staircase, you heard a giggle ricochet through the hall, and you froze, heart stalling. From beyond his bedroom door, waves of breathy gasps, feathery and feminine. Fuck, no, fuck. Your heart wasn’t stalling--it was crashing. Your brain a storm, you whipped around, about to tumble down the steps, but jerked yourself back. Your pulse throbbed in your temple. A sicker part of you wanted to hear more. You wanted to know if it was good. Or better.

Sweat sopping your nape, you swiveled around and crept forward, drowning in the resonance of Johana’s voice. Her moans were low, and long, edged with delight. Images of what he could be doing flashed--were they naked, was he kissing her, where were his hands--and then she gasped again. Swallowing, you edged closer, and then you heard her speak, an ecstatic plea.

“Commander,” she whimpered, “oh, God, please…”

“Tell me how you want it.”

His response was unexpected, and it paralyzed you, breath caught in your lungs. You wanted to pause this moment, dissect every little timbre of his voice until you could know, for certain, the level of his desire, the content of his thoughts, the sincerity of his need.

“Mm… You tell me, sir.”

Ren growled, muffled by the door. “Johana…” His voice was a groan. It was greedy. “Fuck--”

“Oh--fuck--yes!” Johana’s breath became rhythmic, euphoric, harmonizing with quiet grunts that were far too familiar to you. “More--oh, fuck--”

You couldn’t tolerate it anymore, not a single second--you pivoted and scurried back down the hall, head pounding. The sick part of you clung to the stairs, hungry to wait until he came, craving to hear what he sounded like, starving to know their pillow talk.

But you needed to get out, you needed to hide in your room, you needed to fucking slap yourself until you came to your senses and realized that this was your fucking life, now, that you were a fucking slave to a man who didn’t give a shit if you lived or died, that every minute of your existence was stuck in the clutches of the Republic of Gilead and every delusion of escape, every fantasy of hope or reprieve or fucking humanity was dead. They were finally, finally, fucking dead.

[wal-haz]

Contrary to popular opinion, St Mary Magdalene isn’t the woman whose image most needs an overhaul in Christianity, it’s St Martha. I fucking hate that the writing about her is shallow, misogynistic and drips with disdain for her and what she stands for.

Not talking about the ‘folk saint’, the ‘magical saint’, I’m talking about the singular, audacious beautiful saint in the gospels that spoke out for our true everyday needs and desires in the gospels, and who now gets reduced to the position of shrew and scold 😡

[rebeccaheyman]

Review: To Love and To Loathe by Martha Waters

To Love and to Loathe / Martha Waters / eBook ARC / pub date: 6 April 2021 / Atria Books / historical romance

The first and most important thing to know about Martha Waters' TO LOVE AND TO LOATHE is that in Act III, the main female character, Diana, outs another woman, Helen, as a lesbian after being specifically asked not to do so. Diana outs Helen multiple times, all in the interest of advancing her own pathetic plot line. Helen, whose character prior to being outed plays a major role in the plot, is robbed of all agency after she conveniently reveals herself for the benefit of cis-het characters, and does not speak another word on-page thereafter. For this reason alone, TO LOVE AND TO LOATHE does not warrant our time or attention. But there are other reasons to dismiss this novel without a second thought. They include:

- While Diana and Jeremy are interesting enough together, they are insufferable bores apart.

- Neither main character has an appreciably complex, authentic external plot, so 90% of the book is them internally dissecting the other's actions/words/expressions. Diana has the glimmer of a goal (win the bet with Jeremy, though there are no grand ramifications to that), but Jeremy is entirely without agency and simply exists to worship Diana, who is a homophobic shrew for outing Helen.

- There are PAGES of text between lines of dialogue. What I mean by that is: "Jane, would you like a sandwich?" [2.5 pages about the merits of various sandwich fillings.] "No thanks, I'm not hungry." This is bad writing and worse editing.

- This book was clearly written to keep the considerable secondary cast in sight (they all just happen to be at a two-week house party). Waters spends more time moving other characters into place for future books than she does developing the external plot for Diana and Jeremy.

Historical romance as a genre has bravely explored marginalized identities in a variety of ways (see also: Think of England, The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics, multiple titles by Courtney Milan and Cat Sebastian -- there's no shortage here). That TO LOVE AND TO LOATHE relies so heavily on racially bland, cis-het, trope-heavy storytelling that exploits sexuality as a plot device is shameful, and the worst kind of romance.

Thank you to Atria for providing a complimentary ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[thedoctorreviews]

In “Rose”, a great Doctor, a good companion, and terrible everything else

Pilots are rough. They’re written before any actors are cast, without the aid of a writer’s room. They have to introduce all of the major characters and set up the major conflicts of the season while also telling a compelling story in the space of forty-five minutes. There are some great pilots- The Sopranos, Mad Men, and The West Wing managed this quite well- but, for the most part, the quality of a pilot isn’t reflective of the quality of a show.

Which is good for Doctor Who, because “Rose” is almost entirely garbage.

There are some good parts. They’re few and far between, and often last only a few seconds, but they’re there. Billie Piper is the first in a long line of companions with generic, Ordinary Girl Next Door personalities who are elevated solely by the quality of their actress’s performance (Freema Ageyman, Karen Gillan, and season 7 Jenna Coleman also fall into this category). The moments where she and the Doctor get to interact without spewing exposition are the highlights of the episode; the moment when the Doctor arrives at her doorstep (catflap, technically) unannounced is great, and leads to my favorite exchange in Rose:

Doctor: What are you doing here?

Rose: I live here.

Doctor: What do you do that for?

Rose: I just do.

Christopher Eccleston makes a fine debut as the Ninth Doctor. He doesn’t get to do anything particularly impressive- there’s a reason he’s the most forgotten Doctor this side of Paul McGann- but he does his job well. His best moments are the quick, blink and you’ll miss it sight gags: his getting attacked by the mannequin hand was genuinely funny, as is his explanation for his Northern accent (“Lots of planets have a north”). He does wonders when the Doctor is allowed to break a little- the way his voice starts to go in his scene with the Nestene consciousness when he tries to defend his involvement with the Time War is utterly heartbreaking.

That’s about all the good in this episode. Now for the bad stuff.

As I mentioned above, Christopher Eccleston does good work as the Doctor, but there’s a big problem with his character: the fact that he’s such an asshole. In subsequent incarnations, the Doctor seems to be more confused by humanity; here, the Doctor almost despises them. When he first says goodbye to Rose, after saving her from the mannequins in the episode’s opening, and he tells her to go back to her regular life and forget about him, he seems almost disgusted by her. While Tennant or Smith would probably have read that line as genuine, Eccleston fills it with dripping sarcasm, like he’s judging her for being a regular person, or that her inability to keep up with him is shameful. It would be fine if this side of him was portrayed in any sort of negative way, but it isn’t. It’s just one of his “quirks”, and it makes the Doctor pretty unlikeable. The Nestene are… not the worst Doctor Who villains. The idea behind evil mannequins is a good one; their frozen elbows/knees, melted together fingers, and lack of faces put them right at the bottom of the uncanny valley. Unfortunately, they don’t get to do much outside of the opening scene, and even that’s not terribly creepy (the fact that they kill with deadly karate chops undercuts any tension generated in their scenes). After that, the two faces of the Nestene are the poorly rendered plastic-lava-monster-face-thing and, easily the lowest point of the episode, plastic Mickey.

Plastic Mickey is one of those ideas you can’t believe ever made it out of the writer’s room. It’s hard to tell if his cheery, robotic attitude and random pop culture quotes are supposed to be funny or creepy, even though, in the end, it doesn’t matter. Plastic Mickey isn’t creepy or funny. He’s just stupid. Worse, he doesn’t even matter. He’s just a device used to stretch the story out to reach forty-five minutes and give Rose something resembling a dramatic arc.

Maybe, though, Plastic Mickey is a blessing in disguise. He lets us get away from Human Mickey, who’s just as bad as Plastic Mickey with the added negative of being a real live flesh-and-blood person. At least, he’s supposed to be. Mickey is an almost insulting caricature, a cowardly wuss who cares more about catching the last few minutes of a match than comforting his traumatized girlfriend. His conversation with Rose before she meets Clive (you know, that guy that everyone forgets about as soon as he’s left the frame) is confounding in its presentation of Mickey. Mickey’s arguments- that Rose shouldn’t meet with someone she’s only spoken with online because he might murder her- are logical and valid points, but they’re portrayed as comedy, with Mickey cast as some paranoid coward and Rose as the calm headed sensible one. When we leave Mickey clutching at Rose’s leg, hiding behind her, it’s both shocking and completely expected. Of course Mickey doesn’t get any redemption. Of course he doesn’t get any nuance or depth. What were we expecting?

The only character who suffers more than Mickey is Jackie. Including a companion’s parent as a major recurring character gives the companion a lot more depth than they might otherwise have, and pushes their eventual decision to join the Doctor in his travels into a grayer moral area. Unfortunately, this doesn’t happen with Jackie; she’s casted as a conceited, washed up woman who bosses Rose around and refuses to take any responsibility for her actions, which pulls Rose’s TARDIS decision back firmly into the “good” moral area. It’s hard to pick which scene of hers is the most insulting. Is it the one where, after finding out Rose was nearly killed in an explosion, she calls her friend and talks about how much younger she looks than her daughter? Is it the one where she tries to seduce the Doctor, which is played as comedy because, you know, middle aged women should know they’re not allowed to have any kind of sexual life? Is it the one where, after the Nestene’s final attack, Rose calls her to make sure she’s okay, only to hang up halfway through Jackie’s sentence, because why should Jackie know her daughter’s okay, why should Jackie know anything, or be given anything, because she’s such an awful horrible nagging shrew, right?

Jackie’s a good example of the weird misogyny that pervaded the Davies era of Doctor Who. He seemed to harbor this weird hatred for middle-aged women. Think about it- the three companions of his era (Rose, Martha, Donna) all had nagging mothers and kinder, more understanding fathers. Donna herself actually started out as a nagging older woman, only getting depth when she became a companion herself. Cassandra, the villain of next week’s episode, is another one of these characters, as is Harriet Jones in Army of Ghosts/Doomsday. I’ll probably talk more about this later, but for now, suffice it to say it’s a major problem that not many people talk about.

Doctor Who is a great show. Even season one, which had a lot of problems to work through, ended up being a pretty good season. It had a rough start, though, one that gets even worse retrospectively. “Rose” isn’t the lowest the show would sink in its first season (I think we all know which farting aliens take that award), but it’s pretty close. Mickey and Jackie’s characters are offensively terrible, the Nestene are forgettable villains, and the plot is the sort of generic material you expect to find around episodes 3 or 4, where the writers are just looking for ways to reach 13 episodes. Instead, it’s our introduction to this world. The only reason, and I mean only reason, anyone stuck around for episode two was because of Rose and the Doctor. Other than them, “Rose” is a disappointing beginning to a fantastic show.

Other notes:

• Rose’s room is… extremely pink. I don’t buy that she would be that into pink • Christopher Eccleston’s falling through space monologue is great, even though it doesn’t make any sense • How can Christopher Eccleston be in all of those photos if he JUST regenerated, as was implied when he looked in Rose’s mirror and said “could be worse”? Can’t believe there’s a plot hole in Doctor Who. • Also, the photoshop on those photos is terrible