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a-nice-and-interpretive-fanzine · 3 years

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[ID: A cream-colored banner that says "A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine: essays and art about the meanings we've found in Good Omens." There is a photo of a book page with a key on it behind the banner text. The photo source is rosy_photo on Pixabay. /end ID]

A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine: Information Masterpost

Welcome!

This is a zine for those of us who love the subtle, complex work that is Good Omens, and who’ve enjoyed the thoughtfulness of the fandom as people interpret how the many moving pieces of the story come together, creating a slightly different meaning for each of us.

To put it simply, it’s a book full of the fandom’s own analysis and commentary about the Good Omens TV show, enhanced with illustrations from our brilliant artists.

This zine is analytical in the sense that all the writers are expressing their own nonfiction thoughts and feelings about the show, rather than writing fanfic, but it is not meant to be heavily academic. Anybody who likes to pick apart the series and discuss it should be able to enjoy it.

The zine will contain essays by fans who are passionate about analyzing and interpreting different parts of Good Omens - the characters, the plot, the writing techniques for the book and script, the cinematography of the TV show, the popular content of the fandom itself. Accompanying these essays will be black and white illustrations from our artists.

How are you organizing this process?

May 1-May 15: Everyone submits their application to do writing or art through a Google form. Behind the scenes, I’ll be setting up a separate email and Discord.

May 16-20: Applicants will be screened during this time.

May 20: I’ll email everyone to let them know the outcomes of their applications. The final participants will get a link to the Discord server for the zine (totally optional, of course).

May 21: If there’s any clarification or solidifying of ideas that needs to happen, I’ll contact you and discuss with you by this point. This is also when artists will be matched up with essays.

May 22 to August 14: This will be a period of just working on our essays and art. The Discord chat and Tumblr will be there for support and for exchanging ideas!

August 15: Participants need to email their full works to the zine’s email address by this date. No special formatting is needed; I’ll do that in InDesign.

August 15 to August 31: I’ll be putting the zine together in InDesign.

September 1: Preorders will open.

September 30: Preorders will close.

October 1: The zine order will be placed!

October 15: Assuming all goes well with printing and shipping, the zines will be shipped out in waves starting on this date. If the printing or shipping from the manufacturer is delayed, then shipping will just start ASAP.

Writer Application HERE Artist Application HERE Asked and Answered Questions on Tumblr The Fanzine's Page on Twitter

Read below for more detailed information about the zine in a Q and A format!

What are the specifications for the zine contributions?

For writers, I’m starting with 3k words or fewer per essay (approximately 10 pages at the size of this book). This depends heavily on how many participants we actually get, so it may change!

For artists, I’d be looking at black and white works, 300 DPI, 5.5 x 8.5 inches or smaller. If your art is supposed to fill up the entire page (i.e. no white space), please make it a total of 5.75 x 8.75 inches with nothing too important around the edges to account for bleed during the printing process.

Can I submit an essay to this zine if I’ve already posted it on Tumblr?

Not as you’ve already posted it. We don’t want to just copy/paste the exact thing that hundreds or perhaps even thousands of people have already read.

However, it IS fine and maybe even a good idea to take the same thought from your post and refine it, preserving your same thesis. For example, a lot of Tumblr posts are just us fans jotting down 5 or 6 paragraphs of random thoughts at 2 AM, but some of them are really cool thoughts! Expanding them and turning them into a bona-fide Essay would make those posts into excellent zine chapters. And you can copy small pieces of your own language as long as the whole thing isn’t just pasted word-for-word.

How long do essays have to be? Is there a limit?

With the number of writers we have, I've calculated that each person should ideally keep their essay to about 6000 words. There is wiggle room.

There’s no real minimum for your contribution; some analytical ideas are really good but can be expressed concisely, so it’s okay if your essays only come out to a few pages typed. For reference, with our book size, a page is about 300 words.

What happens if the zine sells a lot and you end up not only breaking even, but turning a profit?

It’ll go to charity. While I’ll ask the participants what they want to do for certain if we do make enough money, my suggestion will be donating it to Alzheimer’s Research UK in honor of Sir Terry Pratchett.

I’m not really comfortable calling this a “charity zine” up front since I simply don’t know if it will raise a significant amount. For the most part, I just want the thing to physically exist, which means breaking even, and don’t want to make it more expensive for buyers than it needs to be to afford the printing costs.

What kinds of essays are you talking about? What could be included?

In short, any analytical thoughts about the Good Omens TV show - and possibly even the fandom as it interacts with the show - are possible inclusions for the zine.

To expand a bit, think about the meta posts you see floating around Tumblr. Often these involve analyzing characters, or picking up on patterns in the plot. Sometimes fans use their own background knowledge to write posts about the significance of certain costume choices or the way music plays into each individual scene. Some posts examine the ways the series approaches gender, while others might discuss ways that the characters present as neurodivergent. That’s how diverse the pool of possibilities is for subjects in this zine.

How does art come into this?

Images will be black and white, to match the bookish mood of the project overall. Images can range in size from a half page to a full page.

I’m planning to talk to the artists and authors and loosely pair artists with essays that appeal to their personal interests.

I know how to illustrate a story, but how do I illustrate an essay?

There are infinite answers to this! I’ve seen some beautiful symbolic artwork in the fandom already (e.g. a number of takes on Aziraphale munching on an apple with Crowley in snake form curving around him), and there are tons of symbolic motifs to draw from, but these are not the only options. An artist illustrating an essay about cinematography, for example, could draw a well-known scene from an alternative angle. An essay about Heaven as a capitalist corporation could be illustrated with a cartoon of Gabriel giving some sort of excruciating PowerPoint presentation. A character analysis could be accompanied by a simple portrait. And on and on. I’m not interested in limiting the possibilities by trying to make a list, but just know that there are many and you don’t have to make it complicated if you don’t want to.

If the writers can reuse their essay ideas, can artists reuse their drawings?

Similarly to the writers, if you already have an interpretive drawing that you’re in love with, artists can use the same ideas and the same fundamental composition that is present in their own existing work. However, it has to be redone in some significant way. Whether it’s taking something you drew in 2019 and redrawing it using an updated style, taking a sketch and turning it into a lined and shaded piece, or redoing a full-color drawing so it presents more strikingly in black and white, it shouldn’t be identical to the thing you’ve already posted.

So how are you choosing participants here?

It’ll be based on what people are interested in writing about (or illustrating). I’ll be looking for people who are passionate about their essays, but I’ll also be looking for variety. It all depends on what people want to offer, so I won’t know for sure what it will look like put together until everyone’s application is in.

For artists, I’ll be trying to figure out whose style looks like it would adapt well to illustrations in black and white, and also who demonstrates an interest in the same subjects as the writers.

If we don’t get a lot of applicants, I’d love to simply include everyone, but I can’t commit to that without knowing for sure how many people are involved.

Do I have to use a formal writing style to participate?

No. You should use a style that makes your thoughts and ideas as clear as possible, but as long as it’s understandable, you can also get a little artistic with it. You can “write like you speak,” though perhaps in a more organized way. You definitely don’t need to worry about stylistic rules like not using the first person. This is not academia.

Is this zine going to center only on Crowley and Aziraphale?

That remains to be seen! It depends on what ideas show up in the applications. There will be a lot of the ineffable partners for sure, but whether the whole zine will center on them or whether there’s plentiful stuff about other characters will depend on what the participants suggest.

Do we have to agree with all your personal interpretations of Good Omens to be in the zine?

No! In fact, I’m assuming that a number of essays will contradict each other, too, and that’s perfectly okay. The zine is a sampler of fan interpretations meant to inspire, not instruct. It’s not “Here’s a fan-made guide on how to understand this TV show,” it’s “Look at all these moving parts and how many meanings we can find in them. What does it mean to you?”

However, there are some basic rules and assumptions by which I’m working here.

I don’t personally have the energy to include essays that are highly critical (“negative”) in this zine. It’s analytical but also meant to be fun.

I’m pretty focused on the TV adaptation. This isn’t “no book analysis allowed” but just that the essays will end up being weighted toward subjects that apply to either the TV show or both the book and the show.

Each writer should focus on making their own points over disproving other fan interpretations. If you’re writing in an expository style, it’s normal for the essay to contain rebuttals to opposing ideas, but these should be minor supporting points, not the heart and soul of your essay. For reference, I’d say the majority of meta I see floating around on tumblr would follow this rule just fine.

Essay ideas that seem to contain bigoted or exclusionary sentiments will not be accepted (no TERFy stuff, for example).

What kinds of editing will go into the zine? Are you going to argue with us about the contents of our writing?

While I might ask you to elaborate on certain points in your writing or clarify your thoughts about your subject, I’m absolutely not here to ask you to change the thesis, opinions, or headcanons on which your writing is based. If I really have a problem with your initial idea, I’ll tell you that up front and politely decline the contribution.

While formatting the zine, I’ll make minor edits if I think I see a typo or misspelling, something small and obviously unintentional. As with any other zine, your content won’t be changed without consulting you.

Is this a SFW zine?

Yes. If people want to discuss sexuality in a theoretical way, like erotic subtext, that would be allowed. There are canon references like Newt and Anathema’s moment under the bed that might come up, too. But there will be nothing explicit, and since these are essays instead of stories, there will be no “action” going on between characters. Let’s just say sex isn’t a forbidden topic, but it will be like discussing it in English class.

As for other topics that could make the zine NSFW, like gore or extreme language, I don’t think they will be an issue. Some dark topics, like abuse by Heaven and Hell, may be discussed, but they will be warned for, and these are not stories, so you aren’t going to see violent actions playing out.

Will there be any “extras” like charms or stickers?

I’m not sure yet. I’m most inclined to keep it simple, because of the nature of the zine, but would be open to including some bonus items if there’s an artist who’s really passionate about it.

With that said, I am pretty committed to making a hardcover edition of the book available, in addition to the standard softcover version.

You’re doing this with only one mod?!

Yes. I personally find it easiest. While I’ve worked on multi-mod projects in other domains and adore all of my co-mods, it’s a little bit different when it’s a project with this many moving pieces that includes real-life components like printing and shipping. Though there are a lot of individual things to be done, I am experienced with all of them, so it’s less overwhelming to just take on the whole project. That way, I know exactly what needs to be done and when, and there are no issues with assigning tasks.

What qualifies you to run this zine?

The résumé answer: in fandom, I successfully solo-modded a large not-for-profit zine in the past, the @soulmakazine2018, and while I can’t speak for the whole fandom, it definitely seemed to be well-received. <3 In real life, I’m a case manager and this involves coordinating and communicating with a lot of different people including my 100-person caseload, budgeting services, and filling out all kinds of paperwork on the fly, all skills that can be imported into zine work.

The practical answer: well, I’m the one who decided to start this project, so if you like the sound of it, you're stuck with me. I say with encouragement and enthusiasm that if you’d like to do a different take on a commentary zine, you should absolutely do it.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #fanzine #good omens zine

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madnessofmen · 4 years

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Every time I see people maligning academics for not writing in ways that are immediately accessible to them, my blood just instantly boils. Posts like this:

I feel like people don't know that academic papers are not targeted at students?? They're actually meant for other experts, academics, and industry professionals; of course students aren't going to understand it!

See, academics actually have two jobs: teaching and learning. When they're writing papers, they're not teaching; they're just sharing what they've learned so far. They're basically going, "hey, any smart people out there know what to do with this data?" they seriously don't care about students at this point at all.

The teaching part comes when all that knowledge has been verified/spread/gotten feedback and is then incorporated into textbooks and curriculums, and explained in a way for students to understand. So if you want to learn, go read a textbook! Or a literature review! Those are really good for academics that are dipping their toes in a new field; they've got the basics but need an overview of what's been happening recently and where to start.

1) Wasting time rehashing what somebody has already said instead of citing their work

2) Wasting time explaining the definitions of basic words to industry professionals

3) Good, yes, this is what academic papers should be like.

4) This is what happens when you aren't familiar with a field. I know this because I had to do this for both my undergrad biochemistry thesis and for the dark ecology (philosophy) kritik I made for the debate team. It's hell. Get over it. You're not a genius and you don't know everything. My advice though: don't try to learn from papers. As I said above, they're not intended to be teaching materials and you'll stop being frustrated when you realize that. Stop trying to drink soup with a fork.

*students just don't have the necessary framework to understand it yet* AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT because good teachers will build that for you!! That constant state of confusion? That's academia babey!! Literally was reading philosophy last night. I was confused as fuck! The teacher explained it! Cool, huh?

The teacher (usually) isn't out to get you. The teacher seriously does not expect you to have understood the readings. The teacher actually expects you to be really really confused. The purpose is to get you to think like an academic; you've been given some new information, now think about it. How does it connect to what you already know? What further questions do you have? (You probably have a lot!) But what about...? And if...? That's literally all academics do all day.

Also, when you're in undergrad, the papers you're assigned to read in class are likely 30+ years old, if not hundreds of years old (*cough* philosophy). That material has been in circulation for ages, so of course you're going to find better explanations elsewhere. But at the time of publication, that paper was literally the only information on that subject. Those were the brand spanking new ideas of the time!

That's literally how research works lmao. If you are a world expert on the Bleeding Edge of knowledge, you should be the only one that really understands your work. If it were obvious and easy to understand, it would have been done ages ago.

And the thing is: at the time of publication, yeah you're probably the only one that understands it. And in the ten years following, people will write more papers citing yours and if notable enough, it'll make its way into textbooks, where people will explain it even further. By then you will probably have also given serval talks to clarify and explain your ideas, maybe even written a book or contributed a chapter to a textbook.

Sometimes STUDENTS that NEED TO READ ACADEMIC PAPERS MULTIPLE TIMES TO UNDERSTAND THEM are NORMAL. Even academics do it. Don't stress. You're not dumber for it. Take it slow.

#academia #dark academia #studyblr #irving.txt #THERE IT IS #THE RANT #IT GOT DELETED FUCKING TWICE JFC #anti intellectualism #hit or miss

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taergalive · 4 years

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A Father/Son Moment starring Abnur Tharn and Kalo the Imperial

"I need some advice."

Tharn's hand paused mid-word, though Tharn didn't look up from his page. "Well, that is what I do. Advise people. Though seldom do they listen." His pen began to scratch the paper once more. "What sort of advice do you need?"

The words poured out before he could stop them. "How do you tell someone you like them?"

Takes place after The Halls of Torment

All was quiet throughout the inn, and it drove Kalo crazy.

He paced back and forth in the small room he and his sister shared. She was sitting on one bed, surrounded by a few books. When Tharn offered to pay her to help him with his research, she had eagerly quit her job at the tavern and accepted the offer, driving into the studies. While the pay was good, Kalo knew she really took it because she was eager to stop cleaning floors and do something more academic. Tharn had even offered to pay for a nicer space, but Imogen had refused, saying the money already was too much in her opinion.

While Kalo understood the research was to help them take down Mannimarco, he wanted to jump into action! Surely it wouldn't take Sai Sahan too much longer to recover. They should be on their way to get the Amulet of Kings any second now.

"Kalo, dear," Imogen murmured, a pen in her mouth. "I love you, but please stop pacing. You're making me nervous."

"Everything makes you nervous," he countered, but for her sake, he stood still. He didn't want to upset his sister further. While she did a good job pretending, he knew the fact that he was currently soulless distraught her.

And it wasn't her fault he was so on edge. He had a lot on his mind.

"If you're so eager to punch something, why not take another job at the Fighter's Guild?"

Kalo stiffened. Could she read his mind?

"Y-yeah, yeah, that's…" he gave her an awkward smile, though she didn't look up at him. "I'll go do that. Right now. No problem. Uh, have fun with your books!"

As he dashed out the door, he caught a glimpse of her glancing up at him, but he pretended not to see it. He wasn't acting odd. No sir, not him. Not Kalo the Vestige...though he supposed he needed a new name since Imogen brought up the title wasn't as majestic as he had thought.

He made his way down the hall, hands in the pocket of his green cloak which dragged along his feet. As he reached the staircase, he paused. Going down would lead him to the exit. Going up would lead to the third floor where, coincidentally, he knew Tharn had rented a room. Because Abnur Tharn was too great to sleep in a cave, though Kalo couldn't understand why someone wouldn't want to. Frowning, he ascended the stairs. There was no way he could go to the Fighter's Guild. Not today. So maybe pestering Tharn would keep him occupied.

The third floor was set up differently than the second. There were fewer rooms, the doors spaced out further apart. He recalled Tharn mentioning that his room was the last on the left side, in case Imogen had discovered something that could help them in their quest. Perching himself outside the room, Kalo rapped on the door.

A rather loud sigh greeted him. "For the last time, Larona, I am no longer in need of your services."

Kalo blinked. "Who's Larona?" He shouted back.

There was a pause. "Not you, as it turns out. Come in."

Shrugging, Kalo let himself in. As he did, he realized why there were fewer rooms on the third floor. Tharn's room was enormous compared to the dinky room he and his sister shared. Tharn sat at a desk which stood before an opened window that had a view of the inn's courtyard. A breeze batted the silken red curtains which were tied back with a golden colored rope. The desk was littered with almost as many books as Imogen's bed. Kalo couldn't understand how either of them could even figure out what books to even look at. He could never understand how to find answers in something that couldn't communicate with him.

As Kalo glanced about the room, Tharn delicately dipped his pen in the inkwell. "Please tell me you're here to tell me those fools are ready to go after the Amulet."

Kalo frowned. "I wish…"

Another loud sigh resonated from Tharn. "How disappointing. Then what brings you by?"

By this point, Kalo stood next to the desk, fidgeting with the frayed hem of his cloak. "I need some advice."

The words poured out before he could stop them. "How do you tell someone you like them?"

After dotting an 'i', Tharn dipped his pen into the ink again. "That would depend entirely upon how we are defining 'like.' Are we speaking of the way individuals feel about those close to them, whom of which they enjoy their company, or are we speaking of that special sort of interest in another that makes one sometimes think of acting in a rather libidinous manner?"

When he glanced at Kalo, the boy was pulling the hood of his cloak over his face. Tharn smirked as he tapped his pen against the well. "So the latter then. Well, simply put, the best advice I can give you is to just confess. Much better than pining at a distance with no closure."

For a moment, the only sound was Tharn writing. Kalo lifted his hood to peek at the older man. "...just like that?"

"Just like that."

"But…" Kalo pursed his lips. "...what if-"

"You're rejected?" Tharn guessed, placing his pen upon the desk. He picked the parchment up and read over his work. "It is entirely possible, a very likely outcome. Yes, it'll sting, but just like any pain we suffer, we heal from it and carry on."

Kalo uncovered his head. "Have you ever been rejected?"

"Of course," Tharn admitted with a bit of a laugh. Placing the paper down, he leaned back in his chair and gave Kalo his full attention. "You don't get married seven times overnight. Kalo, you're young. You're going to get rejected many times in your life. Maybe not this time but perhaps the next time. Or maybe this time but not the next time. Either way, it is a part of life. I watched you skip merrily into Coldharbour, ready to take on any threat that approached you; I think you can handle the pangs of unrequited love"

For a moment, Kalo chewed on a loose piece of skin on his lip. Then, in the blink of an eye, he gave Tharn a toothy smile. “Okay, I’ll do it! Thanks Tharn! You’re not too bad for an old fart that sold out to Mannimarco!”

Before Tharn could say a word, Kalo was out the door and running down the hall. Indeed, he could hear a bit of commotion as the boy must have ran into someone. Running his tongue against the inside of his cheek, Tharn shook his head. “Cheeky little bastard…”

~.~

As the evening began to set, Imogen sighed, sifting through the pile of papers she had brought to the table. Tharn had somehow convinced her to take a break and show him what she had found. They were multitasking, eating what pitiful food the crude owners called a meal while comparing notes.

“I’m not really sure if any of this will be useful,” Imogen frowned. “Sorry Chancellor.”

Taking a sip of his wine, Tharn took the papers. “Whatever it is, it’s a start.”

Giving the potato a tentative poke with her fork, Imogen opened her mouth to explain her research when the door to the tavern swung open. A few people, including she and Tharn, glanced up to see Kalo holding a bloodied rag to his nose. In an instant, Imogen stood up. “Kalo! What happened?”

There were a few murmurs and laughs and other sorts of reactions from the others who quickly went back to their own business. Kalo ignored his sister and fixed Tharn with an accusatory glare before stomping up the stairs.

Imogen called out to her brother again, heading in the same direction. However, Tharn caught up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “No, no, the last thing he wants is to be coddled by his older sister. Allow me.”

Before she could argue, Tharn was gliding up the stairs. Mirroring their interaction that morning, he knocked on the door.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Immy.” the boy groaned.

“Oh good,” Tharn replied, throwing the door open. “Because I’m not Imogen.”

From his seat on the bed, Kalo picked up the first thing he got his hand on - a pillow, unfortunately- and hurled it toward Tharn. It missed him by a foot, hitting the door frame. Rolling his eyes, Tharn closed the door, leaning against it.

Kalo groaned again, tightening the grip of the rag around his nose. “This is all your fault.”

“I take it you were rejected?”

“Rejected?” Kalo quipped. “Rejected? Oh, I wasn’t just rejected.” He removed the rag, tapping his fingers under his nose to see if it was still bleeding. It was. “He practically cringed, told me to never come near him again. And then, he told some of the other novices about it and they all made fun of me and one started throwing stuff at me and they all started and I got hit in the face with a rock. So yeah, I was rejected. And now I can never show my face at the Fighter’s Guild again.”

As Tharn listened, he cocked a brow, but only for a moment. The picture of neutrality, he kept any thoughts off his face as the boy ranted. As Kalo finished up, Tharn nodded slowly, scratching his chin. “I understand your hesitation, but you can’t hide. That would be the worst thing to do in this situation.”

“Oh great,” Kalo muttered. “More advice.”

Tharn folded his arms. “When I was a few years older than you...my father and I were at odds with each other. Could hardly be on the same floor as one another, so instead of having my tutors come to the manor, I went to them. When I set foot inside my history tutor’s home...that was when I first laid eyes on his daughter, Calana. I fell head over heels for her, despite the fact she was five years my senior. I was just starting to understand what it meant to be a Tharn, but I still mustered the courage I needed to confess my infatuation. She laughed in my face and told all of her friends about it. From then on, every time I came to the house for my studies, they openly mocked me. Without giving too much away, I asked my mother if I could get a new history tutor. She knew me far too well, though, and knew exactly why I wanted the new tutor.” He paused, stopping right in front of Kalo. “Do you know what she told me?”

With the rag back on his nose, Kalo sighed. “Not to hide?”

Tharn flashed his brows at him. “That I had control of how much her scorn affected me. Kalo, I know it’s not exactly the same situation. Yours is much more...physical. But the same principle applies. I’m giving you the same advice because I know you can handle it. You’re strong enough to take it. You don’t have to go back tomorrow or even the next day, but don’t let a few idiotic pricks ruin something you enjoy.”

Blotting his nose, Kalo nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I mean, it’s not like I’m scared of them or anything. I just...still like him.”

“And you probably will for a while,” Tharn tilted his head. “Though maybe not too much longer. After all, you now know he’s not a nice person. But one day, you’ll get over him, and then you’ll find someone else that makes your palms sweat.”

Kalo brought his fingers to his nose once again. Finally, the blood had stopped gushing. He tried to not, but he couldn’t help but smile.

#Abnur Tharn #Kalo the Imperial #i'll post this to ao3 after i finish the Queen Bitch chapter

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millicent231-watt · 5 years

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Uncharted - Sam X Reader

Songs: None

Request: @missdictatorme

Modern AU or just AU: AU

NSFW/R-18: No

Reader Insert: Yes

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Any lost cities or myths are based on real myths and lost cities. Obviously the lost city mentioned is before it's been found IRL if it has.

I yawn and stretch my back, hearing the satisfying crack on the bones and joints. "Y/N, what did I say about doing that?" I hear Sam groan in annoyance, making me chuckle. "Sorry, Sammy. I forgot that it bothered you." I say and he rolls his eyes, leaning his head against the plane seat. "Don't call me that..." He says, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Aw, come on, Sam. Give her a break. It's no more embarrassing than the names you gave me when we were kids." Nate says, turning in his chair and making Sully laugh. "Where are we going again, darlin'?" Sully asks and I walk over to the pilot's chair, sitting in the passenger seat once Nate moved into the back with Sam. I pull out the map and point to Guatemala. "Here. Every bit of evidence Sam and I got points to the lost city of Tikal being somewhere in Guatemala. All we have to do is look for clues while we're there." I explain, pulling my notebook out of my bag. "Sully, if we find this place...it could lead us to the answer of why and how the Mayans disappeared." I say excitedly. "And anyone wanting that kind of information would pay quite the amount of money, wouldn't they?" he says and I throw my book into my bag. "Yes, but that's not why I'm doing this, Sully." I say before I hear Nate chuckle. I turn my head around and see him teasing his brother about something since Sam's face was bright red.

"Feeling alright, Sam?" I ask, hoping the not so smooth flying didn't make him sick. "Huh? Uh...y...yeah." He says and I shrug my shoulders before picking my things up and walking back towards the brothers. "You sure? If Sully's flying is making you sick, I could always kick him out." I tease Sully, making Sam laugh. He sounded beautiful when he laughed, but it was never often enough. "I'm fine Y/N. I promise. Just the nerves of finding this place. I mean if we do..." He trails off and I smile, grabbing my laptop from my bag. "We'll go down in history. You and me, Sam." I say and Nate throws a travel pillow at me. "Hey! What about Sully and I?" He jokes and I laugh. "You two can get some credit I guess. But a lot of this project was just Sam and I, you have to admit that." I say and he sighs before nodding. "Yeah, I guess it was just you two for the start of this, wasn't it?" I turn my laptop on. "I hope you don't mind, but I need to do this work. So talk amongst yourselves. This is your chance to talk shit about me." I say, plugging my headphones in and starting up Spotify.

Sam's POV

I watch Y/N in awe as she plotted away at her work on her laptop. I could never hope to be as adventurous and death-defying as her, but I love the academic side of this work. The research, the hacking and things like that. Not only because it was interesting to me, but I also go to spend my days with Y/N. She was stunningly beautiful and not to mention insanely talented. She wasn't only on par with my brother, but better than him (much to his dismay). It was an understatement to say that I was in love with her, but there was no way she felt the same for me. I was a weirdo and a nerd, while she was gorgeous, talented, smart, strong and way out of my league. "Sam, you're staring again." I hear Nate say as he nudged my shoulder playfully. "Why don't you just tell her?" He asks, knowing that she couldn't hear us since she was a fan of loud music and blasting her eardrums out. "Because she's my best friend Nate. I don't wanna ruin that with a stupid hope of being more." I say and he shakes his head. "You gotta tell her. You know that in her line of work, anything could happen. If she gets injured, or worse-" "She won't!" I cut him off and he sighs before patting my back. "Alright, I hope you know what you're doing then." He says as I try to bury my thoughts of her with reviewing out research.

After some time, I heard snoring next to me and turned my head. Nate was asleep. "Finally, some quiet." I hear Sully say, making me chuckle and look to Y/N. She was still going on with her work. *How is it that the longer she sits here in this cramped plane, the more breath-taking she becomes.* I see he bite her bottom lip in concentration and cross reference some information from her phone and notebook. *God...those lips...those plump lips...if only I could feel them against mine. If only I could taste them, even if only once.* I feel my face heat up and I avert my eyes. "Sam, do you mind telling Y/N that we're almost there? I'd ask Nate but..." Sully asks me and I stand up. I walk over to Y/N and tap her shoulder, my heart going crazy just at that little bit of contact. She looks up at me innocently before taking her headphones off. "We're almost here. You might wanna talk with Sully." I say and she nods with a smile. "Thanks, Sam, you're the best." She says before packing up her things and walking over the passenger seat, taking a seat. My face flushes as I see her hips sway, my eyes lingering longer than they should have. *You don't mean that Y/N...I'm nothing special...* I think before sitting back down and waking up Nate. "We're almost there Nate." I say and he wakes with a startled snort. "Oh...thanks, Sam.”

Time Skip

"We're here!" Y/N yells excitedly, like a kid on Christmas. She runs off the plane, eager to get outside, and leaves us to unpack everything we needed. "Isn't it beautiful Sam?" She asks, looking at the scenery in awe, while I looked at her in awe. "It sure is." I say, talking about her more than the scenery. "I think we should set up the main camp by the plane. I mean, it's so pretty here, plus it'll be easier to pack up." She says, turning to me with a smile. "Oh! Sorry, I'll help you guys with the bags." She says, but I wave my free had. "No, it's fine. Just go practice your combat fighting." I say, knowing that she loved to practice in new areas. Sort of like christening the location for us. A good luck charm some would say. "Ok! Have fun guys!" She says, grabbing her workout gear and running off. "You give her too much slack. She could've helped us out." Nate complains. "Oh, come on. It's just a few bags. We can manage setting up camp while she has fun." I say, getting started with Sully. "He's got a point, Nate. Let the lady have fun. God knows that peace and fun might not last the week with us three around." Sully says. We both hear Nate chuckling before he says: "I'm sure Sam and Y/N can have some fun together."

Time Skip (Your POV)

I hiss in pain as I cradled my hand, walking back to the boys. I don't know how I always managed to hurt myself in harmless situations, but when it came to getting shot at, blown up, poisoned, drugged and everything in between, I was invincible. I hear the boys laughing before I pushed through the leaves. "Sam?" I call out before they all turn to me. "Y/N? What the hell did you do? How did you get hurt?" He asks, running over to me and hesitating to touch my arm, worried about my injured hand. "I...don't know. It always happens at the stupidest times. Anyway, could...you...patch me up?" I ask shyly. I was hoping that, even if it wasn't the most romantic situation, we could have some time alone. "Sure, come over here. Sit." He says, gesturing me to sit by him. "Hey Sully, help me out with this...thing over here." Nate says, giggling like a schoolgirl once he saw Sam grab my hand gently.

"Why do you always work yourself to this point?" He asks with a low voice, breaking the prolonged silence and shocking me slightly. "I don't mean to-" "Bullshit!" He cuts me off before sighing angrily. "There's no way that you would practice to the point of bleeding this badly, and not realise and stop. Why do you do this?" He demands and I avert my eyes. "I...There's a lot of feelings I'm holding in, Sam. Do you know how much it hurts to with hold so many feelings for so long?" I ask before looking at him. "I do actually...Maybe it's best to get these feelings off your chest." He says, bandaging my knuckles. "I...don't kno-" "I can tell you mine first if it'll help." He offers and I nod. "If that's alright. I think it might help." I say before he sits next to me. "Sam?" I ask as he grabs my hands and squeezes them softly. "I love you Y/N." He says, looking me dead in the eyes. I feel my cheeks flush red and my eyes open up wide. "Sam...I feel the same..." I mumble in disbelief. I couldn't believe he liked me back. "You do?" He asks, but instead of answering with words I place my hands on his cheeks. I pull him in for a soft kiss. I pull away and chuckle as I see his stunned expression. "Does that answer your question?" I ask and he nods. "I'm so happy that you feel the same. Just try not to be so reckless and get hurt anymore. It really worries me." He says and I smile. "I promise, I'll try and be more careful.”

#uncharted x reader #sam drake #missdictatorme

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lgbtqiahistoricalromance · 5 years

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*LGBTQIA+ Historical Romance Novels w/Cowboys, Ranchers, and People of the Frontier and Old West (Includes Fantasy, Steampunk, and Horror offerings this time.)

A River of Time by Dale Chase

- It's 1895 when Luke Straily returns to Gunnison, Colorado, after a twelve-year absence and reluctantly heads to the cattle ranch owned by Jack Hinch, the only man he’s ever loved. Looking to make amends for an intolerable act, Luke hires on at the ranch, but Jack makes it perfectly clear he's unable to forgive or forget just yet. It'll take everything in Luke's power to set things right with the man he wronged and placed in jeopardy before he ran away, but he aims to earn back Jack's trust no matter the personal cost. Complicating matters, though, is ranch foreman Tim Dutcher, who’s been enjoying a sexual relationship with the handsome rancher during the intervening years and thoroughly resents Luke's intrusion. As Luke and Jack gradually rebuild their severed friendship and renew their former passion, jealousy flares, leading to a volatile confrontation. Can the men settle matters without any shots being fired?

Devil’s Paw by Dale Chase

- Lloyd Lasky is a seasoned operative for the Whitlock Detective Agency in Denver that often infiltrates outlaw gangs in order to thwart stagecoach robberies. When he’s assigned to infiltrate the Bonner Gang based in Devil’s Paw, Arizona Territory, he’s unprepared for the personal ambush his heart suffers over gang member Frank Metty. Taking up sex with Frank, Lloyd convinces himself that doing so is part of his job in solidifying his place in the gang and learning of their plans. But as time passes, Lloyd not only starts to care for the younger man, but jealousy also rears its ugly head when it becomes clear the gang leader, Merle Bonner, also has a sexual claim on Frank. When the line between self-indulgence and detective work blurs to the point where Lloyd considers not only breaking agency rules but breaking the law, will he be able to ignore his ever-growing sexual desires and successfully complete his dangerous mission?

Untamed by Anna Cowen (Gender queer MC!)

- Outspoken and opinionated, Katherine Sutherland is ill at ease amongst the fine ladies of Regency London. She is more familiar with farmers and her blunt opinions and rough manners offend polite society. Yet when she hears the scandalous rumours involving her sister and the seductive Duke of Darlington, the fiercely loyal Katherine vows to save her sister's marriage - whatever the cost.

Intrigued by Katherine's interference in his affairs, the manipulative Duke is soon fascinated. He engages in a daring deception and follows her back to her country home. Here, their intense connection shocks them both. But the Duke's games have dangerous consequences, and the potential to throw both their lives into chaos...

Stealing West by Jamie Craig (Stealing series #2)

- Leon Stroud is wanted for robbery and a murder he didn’t commit. On the run to California with his partner-in-crime, Kenneth, he spots the relentless bounty hunter, Thomas Grady, on the train. The only way to protect Kenneth is to create a distraction, and that’s what Leon does when he flees the train at the top of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He forces Thomas to chase him, but nothing can prepare him for what it means to be caught. Thomas Grady always gets his man, and Leon Stroud is no exception to that rule. But almost from the moment Thomas touches Leon, he wants the outlaw for something besides his bounty. Driven by desire he doesn’t understand, Thomas repeatedly claims Leon’s body on the long journey from Soda Springs to San Francisco—and Leon only begs for more. An even bigger threat, with a larger bounty, could be the very thing they need to drive them together...or tear them apart.

Robby Riverton: Mail Order Bride by Eli Easton (Longer review on this site, but suffice to say the cover and description don’t do this novel justice. Robby is as smart as a whip, Trace is a cinnamon roll, and this novel has a lot of tender moments surrounding the MCs as well as the Crabtree family.)

- Being a fugitive in the old west shouldn’t be this much fun. The year is 1860. Robby Riverton is a rising star on the New York stage. But he witnesses a murder by a famous crime boss and is forced to go on the run--all the way to Santa Fe. When he still hasn't ditched his pursuers, he disguises himself as a mail order bride he meets on the wagon train. Caught between gangsters that want to kill him, and the crazy, uncouth family of his "intended", Robby's only ally is a lazy sheriff who sees exactly who Robby is -- and can't resist him. Trace Crabtree took the job as sheriff of Flat Bottom because there was never a thing going on. And then Robby Riverton showed up. Disguised as a woman. And betrothed to Trace’s brother. If that wasn’t complication enough, Trace had to find the man as appealing as blueberry pie. He urges Robby to stay undercover until the danger has passed. But a few weeks of having Robby-Rowena at the ranch, and the Crabtree family will never be the same again. Damn, what a kerfuffle. If only Trace can get rid of the fugitive while hanging on to his own stupid heart.

The Bibliophile by Drew Marvin Fraye (This was a pleasant surprise of a novel, with multiple examples of healthy LGBT relationships. The author did some good research surrounding the treatment of native tribes and health practices of the time. The May/December relationships are sweet, and not one-sided.)

- Nathanial Goldsmith is the only son of the richest man in the Idaho territory, Jessum Goldsmith, the Silver Baron of the Western Lands, as he is called in all the newspapers. But life in the late nineteenth-century American West weaves no magic spell for Nathanial, who longs for the academic worlds his father has forced him to leave behind. To toughen him up, Nathanial’s father has indentured him to a ranchman, Cayuse Jem, a large, raw-boned, taciturn man Nathanial’s father believes will help teach his son to “become a man.” Cut off from his books and the life he has always known, Nathanial is not only forced to co-exist with Cayuse Jem, but to truly get to know him. In doing so, Nathanial discovers there is more to this silent horseman than meets the eye. And, in the process, Nathanial also learns a few things about life, about human nature, and about the differences in being a man and a boy…

A Place to Call Their Own by Dean Frech

- Frank Greerson and Gregory Young have been discharged from the Army and are headed to their childhood homes. They both defied their parents in 1861 when they joined the Army. After battling southern rebels and preserving the Union of the United States of America, the two men set out to battle the Kansas Prairie and build a life together. Once they find their claim, they encounter common obstacles to life on the Kansas Prairie in 1866: Native Americans, tornadoes, wild animals, and weather. When a prairie fire destroys their crops and takes their neighbor’s lives, Frank and Gregory are instructed to find their young son’s aunt. Faced with leaving a destroyed claim, the railroad coming through their land, and dwindling funds, Frank and Gregory must decide whether to leave the place they have worked hard to make their own or fulfill their friends' dying wishes.

Looking for Trouble by Misha Horne

- A trip across the country just might lead to a trip over a cowboy’s knee… Trouble seems to follow Jesse Morgan. No matter how many times he tries to clean up his act, drinking and fighting and picking pockets are about the only things that make him feel good. All he wants when he boards a train headed for Nevada is a fresh start. He might not even know where it is on a map, but nobody knows him there. He just needs a little change, a little adventure, a chance to shake off the dark cloud he seems to be stuck under. What he doesn’t expect is to meet Will Kaplan. A tall, handsome cowboy with a chiseled jaw who pulls him out of a jam five minutes after he steps off the train. He’s ever met anyone like the no nonsense stranger who offers him a temporary place to stay. Will might be stern and have a lot of strict rules, but he’s patient and fair, and he makes Jesse crave things he’s never thought about. Makes him want to cause trouble, just to see what might happen. Will makes him want to do all kinds of things that are definitely a bad idea. Will Kaplan couldn’t care less about people. Everyone he was ever close to is long gone, and he’s perfectly happy on his farm with his animals and just enough to get by— alone. He only heads into town when he has to, and sure never expected to come back home with a mouthy stranger who seems dead set on driving him crazy. Will doesn’t need a farmhand. He definitely doesn’t need one who’s stubborn and reckless and has an ugly temper, even if he’s sexy as hell. Just because Jesse is good company when he isn’t being irritating doesn’t mean Will is interested in having another person in his life for more than a week or two. Excitement and disruption are not things he’s fond of. Just like he’s not fond of this sassy, sullen city boy who seems determined to cause trouble, almost like he’s begging for a firm hand…

Gunslinger’s Lullaby by Jovana (MMF, Bisexual MC!)

- Easy McClure is a hot-headed little spitfire named after her father’s favorite saloon girl. When her father is killed in a range war, she inherits his ranch. Alone now, and facing the responsibility of taking care of a large spread, she packs away her bloomers and corsets and wears tight jeans with a six-gun strapped to her hip. One day, a bleeding cowboy rides up to her house with a bullet in his shoulder. By the time she learns he’s a notorious gunslinger, his whole gang arrives. She has never seen such hot, sexy cowboys in her life, and has a problem resisting their advances. As time passes, she is slowly drawn to them and puts her better judgment aside, surrendering to their steamy seduction. Then the day comes for them to leave. That’s when she must admit she’s in love with each one and faces a painful dilemma -- can her love tame all four men, or will they forever be a group of hard-riding gunslingers dodging bullets and running from the law?

Finding Forgiveness by Ari McKay

- Boston in 1888 is quite urbane, but unfortunately for Gil Porter, that isn’t the same thing as being understanding. When his sexuality is exposed by the scandalous suicide of his lover, Gil is exiled to the small town of Mercy, Texas, by his domineering father, George, who believes life on Vernon Porter's ranch will cure Gil of his “unnatural” desires. Grieving and ashamed, Gil is determined to keep his distance from everyone until he can return home. To his surprise, he finds acceptance at Bent Oak Ranch, especially from Matt Grayson, the handsome son of the ranch foreman. Knowing he must fight his attraction to Matt, Gil courts a local girl, but an unexpected encounter with Matt leads to his discovery of Matt’s feelings for him. Torn between Matt and his desire to be “normal," between returning to his old life and building a new one in Texas, Gil is faced with a choice—appeasing his father or becoming the man Matt knows he can be.

Heart of Stone by Ari McKay

- Stone Harrison never knew he had an aunt; he certainly never expected her to bequeath him one of the largest spreads in central Nevada. But something about Copper Lake Ranch and its foreman, Luke Reynolds, speaks to him, offering a chance for the home he’s never really had.Luke wants Stone to succeed as a rancher and put the legacy of his shiftless father behind him, but he’d also like Stone to share his bed. Unfortunately, Stone is convinced that the world is a harsh place that will never accept two men sharing their lives. Much to Luke’s dismay, he refuses to risk Luke’s life despite the intense attraction they share.The tension between them escalates when a series of calamities strikes Copper Lake. An unexpected and unwelcome visit from Stone’s dandified cousin, James, only makes things worse. Stone’s ability to run the ranch comes into question, but the threat of losing it means less to Stone than the threat to Luke’s life. Stone will do anything it takes to protect the man he loves—even if it makes him a murderer.

Carnival Cowboy by Dale Madison (Trans MC!)

- At the end of a bloody trail, Johnny Redd finds an incredible secret. While struggling with a bullet in his chest, he crawls along the ground until he finds himself surrounded by a maze of quaint carnival tarps. Inside is a world of color, costumes, false hair, nails, eyelashes -- and a man who dresses like a woman. It’s a world of trickery, deception, and lies. Johnny makes it just inside the tent when his strength fails and he faints dead away. When he awakes, he’s reminded of the bizarre reality that surrounds him. It’s that he learns he has been taken care of by a man – er. woman -- by the name of Frenchy Starr. The name rolls from the tongue of this fallen angel, this princess of darkness, this twilight queen. She’s a mystery, a dangerously beautiful mystery, and Johnny slowly becomes ensnared in the trap which she sets. After one night of incredible love, a jealous fan shoots Frenchy. Thinking her dead, Johnny’s heart is broken and he leaves in search of something to fill the hole she left in his heart. Enter Kit Dalton.

The Redemption of Nathaniel Bane by RL Merrill (Novella from The Banes of Lake’s Crossing series, but can be read as standalone.) (Native American MC!)

- In 1860, Nathaniel Bane and his brothers dug deep into the earth on a mission from God, searching for a cache of silver to help fund their new religious civilization. What they found altered them forever and set off a chain of events that changed the course of Nevada's history. Nearly twenty years later, the constant hunger and restlessness has made Nathaniel desperate for relief. A chance encounter in the desert and a meeting with an incredibly powerful holy man will set Nathaniel on a path to redemption—a journey filled with love, blood, and revenge. Will Nathaniel find peace with his soul’s mate, or is he destined to walk the earth alone?

Cowboy Dreams by Terry O’Reilly

- Store clerk Chadwick Algood dreams of leaving his small New England town and becoming Chad Armstrong, a cowboy living a life of adventure in the Wild West. However, Chad is the sole support of his widowed mother and younger sister, so knows his cowboy dreams may never be realized. Chad’s life is turned upside down when Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show comes to town and Chad meets Bo Miller, a roustabout with hopes and dreams of his own. A relationship quickly develops which deepens the young store clerk’s longing for his dream for a new life. Eventually, news from England sends Chad’s mother and sister across the Atlantic. Chad decides to stay in the US. Traveling from town to town in search of Bo and the Wild West show, Chad meets ranch owner Leon Scruggs in a bathhouse and feels an instant connection with the hot cowboy. Which cowboy dream will Chad choose? Or will fate choose for him?

Grow Wild by KM Penemue (f/f!)

- Josie has been drifting from town to town for years, surviving on whatever work she can find. When she rolls into Rio Plato, however, it's not work she's hunting, but an old enemy. Dahlia Wheeler owns the Sentimental Lady saloon and brothel, where Josie stays. But though Josie feels the pull between her and Dahlia, she refuses to get involved and risk dragging Dahlia into her plans for revenge and the aimless life she leads—assuming she doesn't wind up with a noose around her neck.

A Cowboy’s Heart by JM Synder

- Ranch hand Tommy Prout thinks he's in love ... with his boss, Hal Bolstrum. Problem is, Hal's engaged to be married to the ranch owner's daughter and, though he knows of Tommy's crush, he sees it as nothing more than harmless affection. When payday rolls around and the other cowboys want to ride into town to check out the girls at the Wildhorse saloon, Tommy tags along to throw off any suspicion anyone might have about his feelings for his boss. He sure as hell doesn't want to spend his money on any of the soiled doves the town has to offer. At the bar he meets Lila, an enterprising young working girl who takes a liking to him. When Tommy says he wants to be left alone, Lila suggests he rest in her room -- with the promise they don't have to actually do anything. But Lila isn't like the others, and when she discovers Tommy is more scared of her than attracted to her feminine charms, she lets him in on a little secret. Lila's real name is Stephen Marsh. He lives as a woman, moving from saloon to saloon, pleasing men for money. He loves men and enjoys his work, and what others don't know about what's under his skirt doesn't bother him. In all his years on the prairie, he's never met someone quite like Tommy. When he discovers Tommy is sweet on Hal, he suggests teaching the cowboy just how to please a man. He doesn't mean to lose his heart to Tommy in the process. With "Lila" in his life, Tommy begins to dream of someone softer than Hal, someone pretty when dolled up but still man enough where it counts. Someone like Lila. As his feelings deepen, can he use Lila's own teachings to win the heart he really loves?

On the Trail to Moonlight Gulch by Shelter Somerset

- It’s 1886, and Chicago is booming, but for nineteen-year-old Torsten Pilkvist, American-born son of Swedish immigrants, it’s not big enough. After tragically losing a rare love, Tory immerses himself in the pages of a Wild West mail-order bride magazine, where he stumbles on the advertisement of frontiersman and Civil War veteran Franklin Ausmus. Torsten and Franklin begin an innocent correspondence—or as innocent as it can be, considering Torsten keeps his true gender hidden. But when his parents discover the letters, Tory is forced out on his own. With nowhere else to go, he boards a train for the Black Hills and Franklin’s homestead, Moonlight Gulch.Franklin figures Tory for a drifter, but he’s lonely after ten years of living in the backcountry alone, and his “girl” in Chicago has mysteriously stopped writing, so he hires Tory on as his ranch hand. Franklin and Tory grow closer while defending the land from outlaws who want the untapped gold in Franklin’s creek, but then Franklin learns Tory’s true identity and banishes Tory from his sight. Will their lives be forever tattered, or will Torsten—overhearing a desperate last-ditch scheme to snatch Franklin’s gold—be able to save Moonlight Gulch and his final shot at love?

Eden Springs by Ada Marie Soto

- In the boomtown of Eden Springs, someone is spilling the blood of children. Desperate, the sheriff calls in ex-Union scout Aaron Byrne to stop them. For the lawman for hire, it's just another job-until he meets Jonah Mann, the town's Oxford-trained astronomer-cum-schoolteacher. Aaron never stays in one place for long, but a few stolen glances from the eccentric professor begin to test his resolve to move along once the job is done. Now a telescope, a whorehouse bathtub, and a cup of Chinese tea could change Aaron's own stars forever. A Timeless Dreams title: While reaction to same-sex relationships throughout time and across cultures has not always been positive, these stories celebrate M/M love in a manner that may address, minimize, or ignore historical stigma.

Bitter Springs by Laura Stone (POC MC!)

- In 1870s Texas, Renaldo Valle Santos, the youngest son of a large and traditional family, has been sent to train with Henry “Hank” Burnett, a freed slave and talented mesteñero—or horse-catcher—so he may continue the family horse trade. Bitter Springs is a sweeping epic that takes themes from traditional Mexican literature and Old Westerns to tell the story of a man coming into his own and realizing his destiny lies in the wild open spaces with the man who loves him, far from expectations of society.

The Dino Rancher’s Winter Bride by Eloise Sumner (f/f!)

- Eleanor Fields is from a well-to-do big-city family that’s looking to expand its industry out West. Looking to make connections, her father arranges her to be married to Jacob Hammond of Vanwell Ranches.After years of work, Jesse Vanwell has just won back her family home, the Vanwell estate, from the vile Jacob Hammond. But taking his assets comes with a surprise – a city bride.Jesse’s got no need for a wife, but Eleanor doesn’t want to be sent back to her family. A storm is brewing on the horizon, as is the threat of Jacob Hammond returning to reclaim what he lost.

To Hell You Ride by Julia Talbot

- Big Roy is a hard-rock miner with a not-so-secret love for the theater, so when he hears a new troupe of actors are coming to the Telluride Opera House to put on a Shakespeare play, he saddles his mule and makes the trek into town to see it. The play doesn’t disappoint, but the beautiful lead actor, Edward Clancy, certainly does. Clancy is rude and arrogant, and Roy figures he’d never have a chance with such a man. He’s wrong, because Clancy needs some entertainment himself, being stuck in a hellish mining town for the long, snowy winter. Come spring, though, Clancy knows he’s going to want to move on, and he thinks Roy will be easy to forget. Then tragedy hits, and Clancy has to rethink his entire life. Can these two strike gold?

Home Before Sundown by Tinnean

- George Pettigrew and his papa must leave the California rancho they'd lived on since his birth. They end up in New York City, where Papa marries and George gets a new beloved mama. George also meets Frank and Bart who become fast friends, and in Bart's case, even more.The start of the Civil War leaves George the man of the family, but although he’s found a job, it’s difficult to pay the ever-increasing rent. Then Papa dies at Appomattox and Mama falls ill.After Mama dies, her father takes George’s siblings. When George learns his younger sister is being abused, he rescues the three children. But will dressing his sisters as boys and himself as a woman be enough of a disguise to keep them safe until they can reach the valley he’s dreamed of? Will Bart leave behind his own family and go with the man he loves?

A Hard Ride Home by Emory Vargas

- It’s hard enough returning to his birthplace to replace a dead man as sheriff. The last thing Emmett needs is to find himself smitten with Jesse, the whore he arrests almost immediately upon arrival. Especially since Jesse works for his half-sister and at her thoroughly disreputable saloon. But being smitten with a whore is only the beginning of Emmett’s troubles. Silver Creek is a town full of secrets and people too terrified to talk. Why does Emmett’s father, the mayor of Silver Creek, have such a strong hold on the town—and on Jesse?

A Little Sin by Sionnach Wintergreen (Just finished this one the other day, and it’s such an intelligent read. Having lived in the area where this takes place, I can say Wintergreen was totally accurate with her details involving the treatment of “racism, homophobia, and sexism“. The mystery portion is solid, and a WOC is shown as bright and appreciated by Garland and Avery.)

- Sheriff Avery O’Rourke has tried to obey his strict Christian faith and lead a “normal” life. In 1923 in a rural East Texas town, “normal” means heterosexual. A cholera outbreak has made Avery a young widower, so he is married to his job. When a murder investigation forces him to confront his truth, will he finally be able to accept being gay?

Veterinarian Garland Sands has returned from Europe to take over his father’s practice. Struggling with shellshock (PTSD) and heartbroken by the suicide of his French lover, he resigns himself to a quiet, solitary life as a country vet. But the murder of the town doctor brings the sheriff to Garland’s doorstep looking for help with the investigation. Seeing Avery awakens dormant feelings. Can he love a man who hates what he is?

This isn’t the lavish 1920s of The Great Gatsby. This is the flip side of that coin—rural East Texas. No electricity. No indoor plumbing. No flappers. In 1923, the timber barons have left and racism, homophobia, and sexism thrive.

A Little Sin is a realistic mystery with unlikely heroes and a timeless romance between lovers caught in a world where their love is forbidden. This book contains steamy sex scenes and is intended for adults only.

Interested in some Fantasy, Steampunk Western or Horror with your Western by some of your favorite historical romance writers? Try these reads below the cut...

The Devil’s Land collection from @lessthanthreepress includes more traditional historical novels, fantasy, and steampunk offerings in frontier areas that are real (US, Australia, etc) and fictional.

Bushrangers series by Jack Byrne

- Having long ago lost his wife and children, cattleman Jim Kelly works the family farm in the harsh 1800s Australian outback, most days wondering why he bothers. That question is foremost in his mind when a venomous snake takes him by surprise. Another surprise comes when a skilled doctor is in the vicinity to save his life. But the third, and biggest, surprise for Jim is falling hard and fast for that man. Life on the lam is tough, and bushranger Mark Turner simply wants to maintain his freedom as long as he's able. Unfortunately, being a doctor, his conscience won't let him leave a snakebite victim to die. Before he thinks about the consequences of his humanitarian actions, he's both saved Jim and become smitten with him. But considering how Mark's past could negatively impact any possibility of a future, maybe falling in love wasn't such a great idea after all.

Venom Valley series (Cowboys & Vampires, Stakes & Spurs, Blood & Stone) by Hank Edwards

- In the frontier town of Belkin’s Pass, as a vampire quietly feeds on the local saloon girls and their customers, a tragedy teaches resident Josh Stanton he has the ability to raise the dead. Knowing he is now a wanted man, Josh flees into the arid plains of Venom Valley.

Dex Wells, the town deputy and Josh’s best friend, catches up with Josh. During the confrontation, both men realize their friendship is truly something deeper, and Dex has to decide if he’s a man of the law, or a man in love.As Josh and Dex ponder a viable course of action, the vampire circles ever closer, drawn by Josh’s power and gathering his forces against them.

Once Upon a Time in the Weird West by Jamie Fessenden, Andrew Q. Gordon, Jana Denardo, Kim Fielding, Shira Anthony, Tali Spencer, Venona Keyes, Lex Chase, C.S. Poe, Nicole Kimberling, Ginn Hale, Astrid Amara, Langley Hyde

- This isn’t the same old Wild West. The usual suspects are all present: cowboys, outlaws, and sheriffs. There’s plenty of dust, tumbleweeds, horses, and cattle on the range, but there are also magical gems, automatons, elementals, airships… even dinosaurs and genetically modified insects. Roaming among the buffalo and coyotes, you’ll encounter skinwalkers, mad engineers, mythical beings cloaked in darkness, and lovers who stay true to their oaths… even beyond the grave. On this frontier are those at the mercy of their own elaborate devices as well as men whose control of time and space provides a present-day vision of the West. There might even be a dragon hidden amongst the ghost towns and wagon trains.If you like your Westerns with a splash of magic, a touch of steampunk, and plenty of passionate romance between men, these genre-bending tales will exceed expectations. Hold on to your hats, cowboys and cowgirls. The West is about to get weird, and you’re in for a hell of a ride.

Brought Forth by Josie Finch (I know MPREG isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but this was an engaging novel with lessons on family and acceptance.)

- Henry Merrill escaped the abusive family from his childhood and has built a life as the kindhearted handyman for the small town of Ashford in the 1880’s. Henry has every intention of living his life alone, serving the town he considers home. But an angel named Cory-Elle has other plans for Henry. With a soul that needs to be brought to earth, Cory-Elle gives Henry the opportunity to raise the family he never imagined he would have. Dr. Lawrence Turner has a bad reputation in Ashford for attending to poor patients who cannot pay him and for being the only physician the town has ever seen make house calls to the local brothel. So when a young man claiming an angel has made him pregnant arrives in his office, Dr. Turner is not surprised. Despite his disbelief, Lawrence has few things to lose in tending to Henry—though Lawrence never counted on his heart being one of those things. With the help of the doctor’s assistant Ben Lockhart and a saloon woman named Lily Mae Pepperidge, Henry and Lawrence must challenge everything they thought they knew about faith and family. Together they encounter pain, joy, sorrow, and pleasure. But among it all, they discover love. Standalone. HEA. Mpreg (Male Pregnancy) is a primary theme.

The Serpent and the Angel by MD Grimm (The Shifters Book #8)

- In the year 1866, Sheriff Tobias Goldstein guards a small mining town in the Colorado territory with a cold and merciless hand. A rare rattlesnake shifter, he lives by a code and expecting others to do the same has kept the peace—until a nameless stranger wanders into town. Intrigued by the lone man, Tobias names him Angel Smith, and sensing he’s trustworthy, he deputizes Angel.

A guardian at heart, golden eagle shifter Angel protects the townspeople, but his dedication is to an ancient scroll capable of great destruction. For generations, Angel’s family protected the artifact with their lives. Now something has returned to hunt down the scroll. Forced to leave his tribe, Angel enjoys the quiet he’s found with Tobias, who hides a warm heart under his aloof exterior. Angel knows the quiet will not last and fears the battle on the horizon. But with Tobias at his back, Angel might stand a chance against his enemies.

Wild Wild Hex by Jordan L Hawk (Hexworld 3.5)

- After weeks spent tracking down the gentleman bandit Rafael, Hexas Ranger Enoch Bright finally has the outlaw in his sights. He doesn’t expect to find out Rafael is his familiar.

When Enoch runs afoul of the murderous Bone Gang, he and Rafael strike a deal to take down the gang together. As lawman and outlaw work together, Enoch soon realizes the next thing the gentleman bandit steals will be his heart.

The Mechanical Chrysanthemums by Felicitas Ivey (POC MC!)

- Hachisuka Narihiro is a pilot in the Shogun’s elite unit of musha-ki, robotic armor automated by steam and magic for the defense of Nippon in a slowly modernizing 19th Century, when he’s requested to help with political negotiations. Compromises are difficult, with American Admiral Perry determined to open Japan to the West but only on his terms. Like most Western leaders, the admiral is unaware of the advances the Japanese have made with steam and thinks Nippon is an isolated and backward nation. Narihiro’s uncle, the twelfth Tokugawa Shogun, believes Narihiro is the best man for the duty. Despite his extensive training, plans might not go as well as expected.With the American delegation comes closeted former Pennsylvania Dutch farmer, Maarten Zook, a shy translator who catches Narihiro’s interest. As negotiations stall, the Japanese are left with few options to convince America that Nippon is its equal. Japan is ready to open its borders, but a show of force may be needed, and that force may destroy the budding relationship between Narihiro and Maarten.

Heartaches & Hoofbeats by Maz Maddox

- Like all centaur shifters, Sheriff Calhoun is the epitome of honor. He protects his small town of Stallion Ridge and its people from any threat large or small.When word comes in that the notorious Iron Bandits are making a play for a train in his territory he’s both livid and invigorated. If anyone can bring these thieves to justice it’s him and his crew.What he did not expect was having a charming, whiskey-eyed outlaw dumped in his lap that challenged everything he thought he knew.

Honey From the Lion by Jackie North

- Soulmates across time. A love that was meant to be.In present day, Laurie, tired of corporate life, takes a much-needed vacation at Farthingdale Dude Ranch.The very first night a freak blizzard combined with a powerful meteor shower takes Laurie back to the year 1891. When he wakes up in a snowbank, his only refuge is an isolated cabin inhabited by the gruff, grouchy John Henton, who only wants to be left alone. His sense of duty prevails, however, and he takes Laurie under his care, teaching him how to survive on the wild frontier. As winter approaches, Laurie's normal fun-loving manner make it difficult for him to connect with John, but in spite of John's old-fashioned ways, the chemistry between them grows. Sparks fly as the blizzard rages outside the cabin. Can two men from different worlds and different times find happiness together?

Song of Oestend series by Marie Sexton

- Symbols have power…Aren Montrell has heard tales of the Oestend wraiths – mysterious creatures which come in the night and kill anyone who’s not indoors. Aren’s never had reason to believe the stories, but when he takes a job as a bookkeeper on the BarChi, a dusty cattle ranch on the remote Oestend prairie, he soon learns that the wraiths are real. Aren suddenly finds himself living in a supposedly haunted house and depending on wards and generators to protect him from unseen things in the night. As if that’s not enough, he has to deal with a crotchety old blind woman, face “cows” that look like nothing he’s ever seen before, and try to ignore the fact that he’s apparently the most eligible bachelor around.Aren also finds himself the one and only confidante of Deacon, the BarChi’s burly foreman. Deacon runs the BarChi with an iron fist and is obviously relieved to finally have somebody he can talk to. As their relationship grows, Aren learns there’s more to Deacon and the BarChi than he’d anticipated. Deacon seems determined to deny both his Oestend heritage and any claim he may have to the BarChi ranch, but if Aren is to survive the perils of Oestend, he’ll have to convince Deacon to stop running from the past and finally claim everything that’s his.

Brothers of the Zodiac: Earth by Maxwell Thomas

- Stories of the three Earth signs, Virgo, Capricorn, and Taurus

Virgo: Needles has just lost his brother, and goes to the florist that pays the Outfit for protection. But when he goes to collect money from him for the Outfit, he realizes that the florist is not as gentle as he seems.

Capricorn Jack Casement has two months to find his heir because the Lady Ishtar finds him wanting. Will the man he chooses be his lover or his heir?

Taurus For the third time Isaiah has been kicked in the ribs and realizes he needs a ranch-hand. What he gets is something much more.

Cast From the Earth by Leandra Vane (Frontier zombies, but mainly a wonderful metaphor for social acceptance for LGBT persons and persons with disabilities as well as important concepts on what a family truly is. MMF poly relationship and FF relationship.)

- An epidemic that turns men into monsters has seized the nation. At first the disease only spreads in cities but soon cannibals are roaming the prairie, threatening the quiet little towns of the late 19th Century heartland. At an isolated poor farm in rural America, Sara Warren has survived a tumultuous life of loss and an accident that leaves her with one leg – but she is hopeless of any other future until a woman named Cordelia arrives at the farm and changes Sara's life forever. Along with Dan, a man who can't hear and Grace, a young woman who is more concerned with her sewing needles than people, they face the oncoming apocalypse with their wits and their bare hands. When it seems like all is lost, a man from Sara's past named Jack returns to her life and they all realize the only way to survive is together. A story of romance, violence, sex, and the wild prairie that proves broken bodies still feel pleasure and broken souls can find love – even at the end of the world.

Jack Wolfe by Kay Walker

- Henry Dalton is sent across the country by train to the western town of Woolridge in order to investigate the werewolf problem they’re having during the monthly moon cycle. The townsfolk are not forthcoming with information, making it difficult for Henry to solve the case. Even more distracting is Jack, a handsome older lycanthrope. Known for his rebellious youth, Jack has settled down into life and routine in Woolridge, working as the local blacksmith. He assures Henry he’s no longer trying to stir up trouble, that those days are long gone. Henry must attempt to ignore the spark between them, the indication of their potential to become mates, which is rare because Henry is human. Henry remains professional and focuses on his job, but each meeting with Jack adds to the draw, and Henry isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to resist. A story from the Dreamspinner Press 2015 Daily Dose package "Never Too Late."

*“Homos on the Range” How gay was the West?

NOVEMBER 1, 2005 by JANA BOMMERSBACH

#historical romance #lgbt romance #queer romance #bisexual romance #m/m romance #f/f romance #lesbian romance

58 notes · View notes

midtownsciences · 7 years

Text

I See You

(I didn’t steal the gif I made it myself which is why it’s crappy lmao)

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: you would think fighting crime on a daily basis would give Peter Parker the ability to recognise when someone needs help. It turns out, that might be a skill employed by Spider-Man alone.

Warnings: depression, gets a bit sad, suicide attempt, one tiny swear

A/N: I listened to Almost Over by Aquilo while I wrote this, and while it’s a song about breaking up, I think it really fits <3 Also @thekillingquill basically gave me this idea so she’s going down as co-writer (I hope I didn’t ruin it)

Disclaimer: I know this is quite a sensitive issue and I hope I did it justice. Mental health is so important but it’s also unique to every individual, and depression can manifest itself differently in different people. I did research for this and also drew on my own experiences, but please remember that this is fiction <3

(Y/N)’s hair was tied back messily, strands falling out around her face and neck. A too-big, red hoodie hung from her shoulders. She stared down at her scuffed Converse as the other students trickled out of the classroom, avoiding Peter’s nervous gaze.

Peter hadn’t stood this close to (Y/N) in months. Ever since his Spider-Sense started acting up around her, he couldn’t bring himself to be near her. It would usually only go off when he sensed a threat, so he couldn’t understand why it went so crazy around her—(Y/N) wasn’t a threat to anyone. Any time he was around her, the base of his neck would tingle, all of his senses would be on high-alert, and it was draining for him. He was almost glad when she stopped showing up to the academic decathlon team meetings.

He did miss her. However, the (Y/N) that he missed was not the girl standing beside him. (Y/N) had been one of the smartest kids in school; she was on the fast track to the Ivy League college of her choice. And on top of that, she was hilarious. Before scholastic competitions, she would prank all of her teammates. Harmless pranks, like random silly-string attacks and serving mayonnaise-filled donuts for lunch. And she would calm them down on stage by whispering jokes and innuendos in their ears. She was their relief when they felt the pressure of the competition bearing down on them.

That was before she stopped attending the meetings. Before she stopped caring altogether.

He played with the strap of his backpack as they stood at the teacher’s desk, waiting for the door to close behind the last student to leave the room. Scratching the back of his neck did nothing to relieve the tingling sensation he felt there.

“(Y/N),” the teacher began, “I know we’ve spoken about this before, and I trusted that you would take care of it, but I haven’t seen any improvement in your grades since the last time we spoke.”

Peter masked his shock as he glanced at (Y/N) cautiously, expecting her cheeks to be tinged pink and her shame to be written all over her face. She merely looked bored. She licked her lip, staring down at the desk. If the teacher was waiting for a reply from her, she would be waiting a long time.

Peter felt the second-hand embarrassment flood through him, flushing his cheeks a bright red. He fiddled with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, waiting for one of the women to break the heavy silence.

The teacher sighed in concession. “I don’t know what you have going on after school that’s taking up so much of your time, but your grades are suffering for it. Which is why I think Peter should help you study.”

(Y/N) scoffed, and Peter could see the muscles in her jaw working as she ground her teeth together. She rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Fine. Sure.”

The teacher blinked slowly at her, inhaling deeply to keep from losing her temper. Plastering a false smile on her face, she turned to Peter. “Peter? Would you mind helping (Y/N) with the next few homework assignments? It’ll count as extra credit.”

He looked, wide-eyed, between his classmate and the teacher. He had to prioritise his duties as Spider-Man—he didn’t have time to tutor someone who was clearly smarter than him. She just wasn’t trying. Then again, the teacher must have known this, too. Was she embarrassing (Y/N) in front of him in the hopes it would inspire her to work harder?

“Um, sure. Yeah, no problem,” he stuttered eventually.

“Great,” the teacher said, beaming at him. Her expression soured as it turned towards the girl. “I expect an improvement, (Y/N). You are the last person I expected to be failing this class.”

(Y/N) managed to refrain from rolling her eyes as she left the classroom, Peter close at her heels. She stalked down the corridor, her strides long so Peter almost had to jog to keep up with her.

“Hey, so do you wanna study today?” he asked as she stopped at her locker.

“No.”

Peter frowned and scratched the back of his head. “Okay, tomorrow?”

“No.”

“Um… what about—”

“No, Peter,” (Y/N) said firmly as she shoved the books from her locker into her backpack.

“Well, when?” Peter asked slowly.

She released a slow breath, eyes shut and jaw clenched, as if talking to him was an immense effort. “Never.”

Peter’s brow furrowed, his fingers working at the sleeves of his hoodie. “But, Miss s—”

“I know what she said, Peter,” she sighed. “Look, tell her you helped me. Tell her we spent all day at the library and you taught me an entire text book and get your extra credit. But I don’t need help with chemistry.”

“But… she said you’re failing,” he said quietly.

“So?”

Peter’s mouth dropped open and his lips worked as he tried to find a response. “I thought you would… you would want to… not do that. Fail.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I don’t care, Peter. I really don’t.”

“So, you don’t want my help?”

“Nope,” she replied, tearing the posters and photographs from the door of her locker and stuffing them into her bag.

He nodded, hands gripping the straps of his backpack tightly as he stared into the empty locker, searching the abyss for any idea of what to say next. “Will, um… will I see you at the decathlon team meeting?”

“I quit, remember?” she answered, and slammed the locker shut. It was an action with such finality that Peter didn’t even try to stop her as she stormed out of the school, into the bright afternoon.

It had been a slow day. Spider-Man hadn’t so much as rescued a kitten from a tree. He supposed it was a good thing: a boring day for him meant a safe day for everyone else. Still, he couldn’t help but be disappointed that he had nothing to report back to Happy.

To cheer himself up, he perched himself on a balcony overlooking the 59th Street Bridge—one of his favourite places in the city—to finally eat the sandwich he bought at the deli. He enjoyed watching the cars trickle over the bridge as the water glistened underneath it. It was especially beautiful in the evening, when the sun was just beginning to set behind the skyscrapers across the river, the sky a watercolour painting of soft oranges bleeding into pastel yellows.

He was one bite into his sandwich when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. The instinct was so strong he had already tossed his sandwich away and jumped so that he was crouching on the barrier before he was aware of what he was doing. He scanned the horizon, and his gaze landed on a swath of red. It appeared to be a person on the bridge, but they were far too close to the edge. It looked as though they were on the wrong side of the barrier—

Peter launched himself from the balcony and shot a web to a neighbouring building. He swung with his whole body, kicking his legs out and pulling on the webs to propel himself from one building to the next until he reached the bridge, where he could see the red figure still standing on the ledge. They were leaning out over the water. Peter didn’t have time to think. He shot a web towards the bridge midway between himself and the jumper, and then he threw himself off the edge, just as a flash of red launched itself into the air.

He swung towards them at an alarming rate. The collision almost knocked the air from his lungs as he wrapped his arm around the jumper and ordered them to hang on—he needed both web shooters to get them back to safety, or they would be swinging like a pendulum all night.

The person wrapped their arms around his neck, and with both hands free, he could swing back to the shore. They landed with a slight jolt, and Peter was finally able to get a good look at the jumper. His heart sank.

(Y/N) stood in front of him, the wind whipping her hair into her tear-stained face. She stared out at the water and wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her red hoodie. “You weren’t supposed to do that,” she said quietly.

Peter stared at her, grateful his dumbstruck expression was hidden behind his mask. “I-I… what?”

“You should’ve let me fall,” she muttered.

“But you- you would’ve died!”

She looked up at him tiredly. “That’s the point.”

Peter took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He was not equipped for this. “Why would you want that?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) stared out at the water again. Her lower lip trembled, and tears glistened in her eyes, but they didn’t fall. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This. Everything. All of it.”

Peter stayed silent, partially because he didn’t think she was finished, but mostly because he really didn’t know what to say. He watched her pull the sleeves of her hoodie down over her shaking hands, and scrunch the fabric in her fists as she struggled for words.

“I’m tired,” she continued eventually. Her voice was barely a whisper as she tried to hold back the tears. “I’m so, so tired. It’s like everything is just… dark. And I’ve been waiting for the light”—she sniffed—“but it’s not coming.”

“Why is it dark?” he asked carefully.

“Does there have to be a reason?”

Peter bit his lip behind the mask. How could he have missed it? All the signs were there: (Y/N)’s change in attitude, quitting her extra-curricular activities, failing classes. All these months, he was so busy being Spider-Man, he hadn’t even noticed that she needed help. What kind of friend was he?

“We should sit down,” he said, gesturing towards a park bench which overlooked the river. The wooden bench was cold, and he could feel it even through the suit. He shivered as he turned towards her. “Talk me through it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t pretend this is nothing. You just tried to take your own life, don’t act like this isn’t important.”

She met his gaze, and for an instant, Peter forgot he was wearing the mask. (Y/N) didn’t need Spider-Man; she needed a friend. She needed Peter. So he listened to her, like he should’ve been listening to her all along.

“It’s just… it’s not easy to explain,” she told him. “I should be fine, right? I have a family that loves me, that I love. And I had friends, did well in school… I had a life that any other person would’ve been content with. I should be fine. But I’m not.”

“How do you feel?”

The last glimpse of the sun cast a soft orange glow over her face as she looked up to the sky, her lips curved into a deeply set frown. She looked so small, with her knees tucked up to her chest, her hoodie falling off one shoulder. He could almost see her mind working, finding the words to express what she had been feeling for months but had never said aloud. Her brow creased, and a tear finally slipped down her cheek as she bit her lip. “Like I’m sinking,” she said unevenly. “Like I can’t even see the surface anymore. Like I’m drowning, and no one knows. No one’s even noticed that I’m gone.”

Peter inhaled sharply. His heart clenched, curling itself up into a tight ball, either in sympathy with her words, or to protect itself from them. He made a conscious effort to keep his voice even, and impartial, even though he wanted desperately to pull her into his arms and apologise for not seeing it before. “What do you mean, ‘no one knows’?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, again wiping her face with her sleeve. “It’s like I’m slipping away, and everyone in my life is too busy with their own shit. They don’t see me.”

“I saw you,” he said quietly. “I see you.”

She looked up at him, eyes filled with tears preparing to take the leap. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not, but I see you. I care.” Peter paused, thinking. “Maybe you should make a list,” he offered. “A list of things to live for.”

“I tried.”

“Maybe you missed something,” he replied. “Let’s see, you’ve got family, so that’s one. Friends, that’s two. Hmm, the new Star Wars film is coming out soon. You can’t miss it. So that’s three.”

(Y/N) giggled, rolling her eyes.

“That laugh,” Peter said, grinning (even though she couldn’t see it) as he pointed at her. “That’s four.”

“A laugh is not a reason to live.”

“Yes, it is. The world needs that laugh. I bet you make other people laugh, too,” he said, thinking of all the times (Y/N) would have the entire decathlon team gasping for breath, keeled over laughing in their hotel room at competitions. (Once Mr Harrington stormed into their room to reprimand them for being too loud, and (Y/N) offered him a mayonnaise filled donut.) (She got detention.)

She didn’t answer, just stared down at her hands as they fiddled with her sleeves. At least she wasn’t crying anymore.

“Look,” Peter said softly, “I don’t know much about this stuff. Honestly, I’m just a kid. I guess we have that in common. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I don’t think the solution to your problems lies at the bottom of that river. I know you’re hurting, but you don’t know how you’ll feel tomorrow, or the next day. Maybe next week, you’re gonna be laughing with a bunch of your friends, planning on going to see Star Wars. Maybe in five years, you’ll be in your dream college, working towards getting your dream job. Who knows where you’ll be in ten years? The thing about it is, you can change your life right now, and take steps towards feeling happier. Or, you can end it. But once you end it, there’s no going back.”

(Y/N) didn’t speak. She looked out across the river, and although she didn’t smile, she didn’t frown either. Perhaps it was Peter’s wishful thinking, but there might have been a light in her eyes that wasn’t there before.

Peter looked for (Y/N) the next day in school, worry bubbling in his stomach with each hour that he didn’t find her. He was just considering ditching school to check on her when she appeared beside his locker.

“Ready for chemistry?” she asked uncertainly.

Peter broke into a grin, which seemed to baffle her, but she smiled nonetheless. “Yeah. Yeah. We can- we can go… together? Like walk there together. If you want.”

She licked her lip, trying (and failing) to hide the smile sneaking its way across her features. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

They walked in silence through the crowd, Peter nervously running his hand through his hair. He racked his brain for a way to phrase the one question that mattered—are you going to be okay? He was thinking so hard, in fact, that he almost missed her speaking to him.

“About yesterday,” she began, “I’m really sorry. I’ve just- I’ve just been having a rough time, and chemistry was kinda the last thing on my mind.”

“That’s okay,” he rushed to tell her. “It’s totally fine. I- actually, I was um… I was worried. About you. I was trying to find you earlier, because I- I just got the feeling yesterday that you might… I don’t know. I was gonna ask if you’re okay.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, as if she was surprised by his question. As if he was the first person in months to ask her how she was doing. The thought that he might be made his heart deflate. “I’m… okay,” she answered slowly. “I- yeah. I’m okay. Actually, I wanted to ask you for a favour.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm. Would it be okay if I borrowed your chemistry notes? I’ve been totally spacing out in class for like, six months, and I need to catch up. I’d really appreciate it—”

“You know, we could study together,” he offered.

“You don’t have to do that. I mean, you can tell the teacher that we are, and get the extra credit—”

“It’s not about the extra credit,” he blurted. He made sure to look her directly in the eyes when he continued, despite how his cheeks burned in protest. “I’ve missed hanging out with you, (Y/N). After you quit the decathlon team, and debate club, I hardly ever see you. And I um… I miss you.”

“You’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me,” she said quietly.

The words almost stopped Peter in his tracks. She couldn’t know. Could she? “Why would I feel sorry for you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because I’m failing chemistry,” she laughed.

His mouth dropped open, eyebrows shot up. “Ohhh,” he said. “No. I don’t feel sorry for you. Are you kidding? You’re my only competition in chemistry class. And beating you is no fun when you aren’t even trying.”

“Peter Parker,” she gasped. “Is that fight talk?”

“I’m just saying, even with my help, you’ll be coming in second place.”

“Oh, we will see about that, Parker,” she chuckled as they walked into the classroom. “Five bucks says I’ll have first place by the end of this year.”

“You are so on.”

It started small.

Later that day, Peter saw (Y/N) leave the guidance counsellor’s office, a pamphlet clutched tightly in her hand. The first life preserver for her to cling to—hope that things would change. The second came in the form of commitments. She joined the academic decathlon team, and eventually the debate club, once again.

Peter didn’t know it, but he provided her with the most valuable support of all—friendship. When she had reached the end of her rope on that bridge, Spider-Man gave her a reason to hold on. But Peter Parker gave her the strength to pull herself back up.

They met weekly to study, help each other with homework, and have the occasional debate about trivial things, like whether the Lord of the Rings books were superior to the films. (“Who has time to read all those books?” “There are three books, Peter. You don’t have time to read three books?”)

Eventually, weekly study sessions became biweekly, and then almost daily. (Y/N) grew to trust Peter. It was at one of their sessions, months later, that she told him about her depression.

She was sitting on the floor, leaning against Peter’s bed, when he casually asked her why she had quit the decathlon team all those months ago. He hadn’t expected her to tell the truth, much less burst into tears in front of him. He rushed to her side, pulling her into his chest and she sobbed the story into his neck as he stroked her hair, his other arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders. Her fist closed tightly over the collar of his shirt when she came to tell him about the bridge.

“He saved me, you know?” she whimpered, retreating from his embrace to wipe at her tears with her sleeve. “He saved me, and I didn’t want it to be for nothing.”

“It definitely wasn’t for nothing,” Peter whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Peter spent so much time with (Y/N) that he stopped noticing his Spider-Sense acting up around her. After a few months, he caught himself admiring her as she worked on her calculus homework, and he realised he hadn’t felt that tingling sensation in the back of his neck in weeks. However, it was soon replaced by butterflies in his stomach and a skip of his heart any time she returned his gaze. He knew the weeks he had spent becoming comfortable around her were wasted the day he found himself staring at her lips and wondering what they would feel like against his.

“Peter?”

“Huh?” he asked, flinching as she jolted him from his daydream.

“Are you alright?” she asked carefully. “You were um… you were staring into space.”

He had been staring at her and they both knew it.

Peter became (or rather, regressed to) a stuttering mess after that day, but he was sure (Y/N) had no idea why. (She knew exactly why.)

(Y/N) always noticed when he was staring at her. She enjoyed it, even. And she gazed at him, too, though she was wise enough to do it when he wasn’t looking.

She was grateful to have a friend like Peter. She could share everything with him, and she never feared how he would react. Mostly, however, she felt like he could see her, and just knowing that was enough to make her feel like she mattered.

(Y/N)’s depression was not cured the day she met Spider-Man. It took months of therapy and determination on her part to feel even remotely close to the person she used to be. She would still have days when she felt the tide coming in to sweep her away again, but she knew she wasn’t alone. She had her choice of friends and family that she trusted, and she could tell them anything and everything.

She also developed a habit of listing all the things she had to live for. They ranged from simple things, like watching a film or eating a leftover slice of pizza from the fridge, to things she considered to be monumental, like graduating college and having an apartment of her own. Two items featured on every one of her lists: the possibility of meeting Spider-Man once again, to thank him for saving her life; and the feeling of satisfaction she would have when she stole the top spot in chemistry class from Peter Parker.

tags: @jvghead-jones-iii

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spider-man x reader #spider-man imagine #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter x reader #peter parker #spider-man #i'm absolutely terrified to post this #so i'm queueing it #so i don't have to be around when it posts #hahaha i'm so scared #enjoy tracking this queue

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jamescurcio · 4 years

Text

42 is the answer, but what was the question?

Hard to believe my 42nd birthday is coming up on July 9th.

If you want to get us both a present... order a copy of the "covid19" limited edition of my illustrated novel, Tales From When I Had A Face.

It'll only be available until July 10th, and is only available through this link (isn't even listed on their site).

I wanted to share a little about what was on my mind writing it, although of course this is only one piece of a 100 piece puzzle.

The day there are no more humans on this earth, every painting or statue or book will be entirely identical with every other object in the world. It's all just configurations of stuff, without our minds to breathe a different sort of life into a book or an album. Though there have been gaps, omissions, deletions, and the constant rewrites of the present, there's been an ongoing narrative accumulated that we all can contribute some small part to. History. And of course those curated artifacts are a small part, too. Most of it is forgotten from explicit knowledge but is retained in more invisible ways.

That's the sense of cosmic loss I wanted to drill into, and a Gnostic concept of history that should be made clear, at least implicitly, as the book unfolds. I spent about 5 years falling asleep to audiobooks and podcasts about being in the trenches at verdun, or the killing fields, to Blood Meridian and Sailor Who Fell Asleep By The Sea. Of course, a lot more, but they are the books that keep coming up. Donald Hutton's Shamanism was particularly instructive, as was Bowie's Blackstar. This book accumulated in criptime. It's like fingernails or snail shells, grown a bit at a time, one layer atop the next. (MASKS was the other product of this period of time).

I don't try to emulate, but I don't understand authors who don't want the "taint" of influence getting on their work. We are nothing at all except a reaction to a collection of influences. We curate and edit and restate and embellish, sure. This is how communal storytelling works, and I wanted to bring a little bit of that back to this story. The fairy-tale elements are told, grandmother to granddaughter.

I was never looking for one mythic story to reinterpret, and it's not about the historic beliefs of Sakha or Yakut shamans. I was searching more for a Campbell style "essence."

I don't think that's actually the way to go for nonfiction analysis of myth, there are issues with that approach, but for a dark fantasy like Tales, I felt I had enough license the get a general survey and then mythologize on that. Writing is part creative visualization, part language, part sense of meter, and stamina.

I chased that trail as far as I could, at a very dark period in my own life. Especially when I was diagnosed with a variety of chronic health conditions, this project became what I could keep returning to, to try to create the sense that I was constructing some sort of meaning. For a time, I couldn't feel it anywhere else. But I didn't at all want this book to be about "my journey", and it isn't. It's about the broader existential issues and dilemmas that experience brought out of my subconscious. A writer can't really tell you what that all means though.

So it's about this sense of perpetual loss of self and community, and the repression and dissociation of trauma, and how that catalyzes the nightmares we've recorded in history books. And it's really hard to not think about this in the context of a looming global ecological catastrophe -- apocalypse.

I realize the absurdity of "but think about the death of meaning and the empty museums!" is a weird thing to get worked up about if we're talking our death, or the collapse of a civilization. And even more so if constructing a myth about it could serve as medicine for me, or that I could muster the production skill from past decades of work to make such a project interesting to read. Even enjoyable, for the right reader.

I think of Deleuze writing his final On Immanence, or Bowie's swan song. Since none of us are around for long, not really, then who are we writing for? Who is "posterity"? Maybe this one is written for death. It will make of it what it may. If the book cover could be composed of bone entirely, it would be.

Deleuze was dying when it was written, and that's what seemed to motivate that piece, its secret engine. About life, compelled to honesty by imminent death -- on immanence, the totality of being.

So we see life always bleeds into fiction. We always give ourselves away, but it's best to not try.

I wrote most of the first draft of Tales on a phone when I was homeless, couch surfing, dependent on the meds that kept symptoms at bay. I wasn't at all trying to write about myself or my life. It's only looking back on it now, especially the Alterran stuff, that I see, it's all about people who have lost their home and their people. On the one hand, it may appear to be about erasure and finding meaning when we recognize that there's no escape without a memory that invents a story of our life. But it's just as much "about" the anesthetizing effect of fantasy.

In terms of how the characters germinated, I'll give an example. . .

I wondered, what if there was an entity who collected and maintained the knowledge of the dead? And around that built what became the Feyn, spirits who have learned to walk in the world of the living, and yet speak to the dead. They are the race who teach the first witch-doctors or Oyun. Eluane the "Raven-wanderer" especially, who becomes the last of his Chatillian kind, takes on this responsibility of retaining forgotten memory, before it is wiped clean by the souls passage before reincarnation.

Another option is presented: spirits that serve as the story itself, the Fallen, after whom the Fallen Cycle is named.

The Second World, and the underlying cosmology that creates the symbolic structure of the book, was developed over twenty years of iterative RPGs. For this story I was very selective about what got used, I try to be minimal in terms of the range of world building philosophy in fantasy, in execution. But in the development I may be a bit excessive in the other direction, though not truly Tolkien levels.

The entire book is composed of what I hope are somewhat unique takes on symbols that will feel unexpected, and yet still evoke that deja vu that is innate to the fairy tale. Those symbols are developed as if they compose a part of an unfamiliar tarot deck. Piles of notebooks hold discarded iterations of symbols systems and cosmologies. I wanted to bring many years of research on those subjects to bear in a way that wasn't academic or entirely abstract. More surreal and poetic, less Immanuel Kant. (Maybe I can never fully escape the ironics of Kierkegaard, however).

The visual art lends more to that effect, except that tarot imagery often feels so static. I wanted much of this to retain a sense of motion, life, and narrative.

It will likely be observed that this book is mostly about women, especially what Jung might have called the feminine shadow. They are all lunar.

That's my brain dump about the process...

#wip #books #birthdays #announcements #comics #illustration #fairy tales

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pisati · 5 years

Text

I don’t really know how I want to see this.

I don’t want to call it a turning point, necessarily. a benchmark, a new chapter. it almost feels like too solid of a line to draw.

but at the same time, it feels like there is a line being drawn. a kind of vague one.

this’ll be my first job in over a year. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to be able to take over a year off, but it really did fly by. somehow. people get different jobs all the time, that’s not what feels different about this. it’s the fact that I went to school for something, got a job in that something, and then... I don’t know. I don’t want to say I dropped it completely. but as much as I don’t want to admit it to myself, I just can’t see a future for myself in linguistics. maybe one day, not in an academic sense, maybe one day as a hobby. I will never not love it.

but I was just thinking last night, after stumbling upon the twitter profile of a girl that used to be in my school’s PhD program (she was my TA in my first intro ling class, now she’s an assistant professor at UChicago. time certainly flies), that that sphere of academia is entirely out of my reach. I don’t feel smart enough for it, and after my time in undergrad I feel like I’m not disciplined enough for it either. I thought that was what I wanted. I thought that was what I was working towards. when I was 19 I could’ve seen that being me. I don’t see it anymore. I guess I can’t say it’ll never ever happen; I do feel like a lot of my problem is that I’m held back by what my insomnia does to me. maybe one day if I can fix that I’ll change my mind. but I’m also not sure I’ll ever be the kind of person who would fit in academia. I’ve been there. I’ve been in it. I follow other academic linguists on twitter, I see what things they think about and how they talk about them. I just don’t think I’m cut out for it. maybe one day if I find something within the scope of my education (or even slightly without; I do want to expand it). maybe I’ll go back to it. maybe.

but that puts me in this position where I need to work, and I need to figure out what I actually want to do. so here I am with this new job. as a receptionist. from $55k a year to $28k. and it’ll probably be less than that, because it’s going to be closer to 37.5-38 hours a week than 40. the feds were about to give me $70k. some part of me sees it as kind of a personal failing. I had such a strong trajectory. when I started college and started actually getting excited about school, I could see myself getting a PhD. I worked my ass off the next year, got my first straight-A year ever. I loved what I was learning, but I never figured out what I wanted to do. that was when I felt like I started stagnating. I felt the burnout starting to hit me during my third year. when I got that last job, after 5 years of undergrad, I wasn’t ready for it. I wasn’t ready for full-time either. I pushed myself through it, because I felt forced to. I needed a job, I wanted a job in my field. but I was so miserable. I had a whole year off and I still feel burnt out. this isn’t burnout. this is whatever my problem is. so maybe I can see switching gears again if I ever get my energy back. I just feel like I could’ve been doing so much better. I had a great running start, I hit the springboard, I took a pathetic hop off of it, and I curled up on the ground.

that doesn’t mean I can’t try again. I still have some hope for myself. it really depends on my health.

for the more immediate present, though, it doesn’t feel all that good. I don’t know how I want to see this. as another transitory period, just buying myself time until I figure out what I want and until my health starts improving? as an opportunity, somehow? as much as I’d like to pivot into animal care, I don’t know that that’s right for me either. there’s not much pay out there unless you’re a doctor, and that’s not something I can do. or even want to do. it kills me that pay is the only thing keeping me away from it.

I’ve been thinking about psychology for grad school. I need to be more specific about my goals before I go after it, but even looking at pay for masters-level clinicians and social workers... it’s not great. certainly not enough to support myself where I live. you really do need to either be making $80k+ per year or have someone to split rent with around here. charlotte’s got her fiance. any other friends that are still here have their significant others; even friends not around here have theirs. or else other roommates. I’m even starting to lose my confidence about the low-income housing option here. I could move, but salary and cost-of-living often trend in the same directions. salaries here are higher than a lot of places, but rent is also astronomical. places where rent is cheap also don’t tend to pay much. I feel like I’m kind of fucked no matter where I end up, because it’s just me. it’d be a pleasant surprise to not end up alone, but I’m planning for it as an inevitability. and god damn is it hard. there’s really not much I want to do (or could ever be able to do, feels like) that will pay enough.

I feel kind of defeated. overall. not hopeless quite yet. I just don’t know what’s coming, and that makes me nervous. I shot myself in the foot and lost the biggest opportunity I could have possibly had. not that I would’ve liked it, but I could’ve stomached it for the pay. I just want to do something I like. something I feel like I can flourish and grow in. something I can do until I retire (if I can even fucking retire). I want to feel good about what I do, not sitting in my car crying on the way to work or wanting to veer into oncoming traffic on the way home. pay vs. cost of living is something that’s entirely beyond my hands. I’m going to have to suck it up and do something. hope it’ll work out. at least I’ve got the small comfort of a nest egg, courtesy of my dad. I’ll never know how I got that lucky.

my close friends know my situation. the few people I’ve talked to about it have been very understanding. I guess part of me is a little afraid of being judged. I’m one of two people I know of from my program who have left the field; the other one is the girl who worked in my lab and spent a lot of her time texting instead of making scheduling calls, was late to lab meetings, and never seemed to care much about the studies or what they were looking at. pretty sure everyone else I know of either went into industry (one girl got a job in portland, lucky fuckin duck) or managed to stay in research. one of my co-labbers got a position with CASL. I can kind of feel the disappointment from my lab manager and professor from 3 years ago; feeling ashamed that I ended up probably about where they thought I would. I can’t blame myself for not knowing what I wanted. I need to remind myself of that. I loved what I did, I worked hard, but there was no way to know that it just wasn’t for me.

I feel like I need to explain myself to people, and I don’t know why. why am I afraid of being seen the way I think people see me? nobody likes being in a bad light. I like to think I’ve been doing a little better about it, anyway. too many bleeding-heart statuses on facebook back in the day. I could just say well, fuck everyone else, then. but I think at the root of it... I want to feel understood. I don’t want to feel judged by people I know. I don’t like feeling like they know this version of me that isn’t the actual one; the one they made up in their heads based on assumptions in tandem with what little other information they have. fuck em if they don’t want to know the actual me, then, I guess. that doesn’t leave me with much.

I’m a little sad that I had all this time off and I feel like I wasted it. a whole year! to do whatever I wanted! I could go anywhere any time and I fucking didn’t! there’s so much I could have done, and I spent 85% of the last year exhausted and sad curled up in bed. and in a fuckload of pain, so it’s cool that we’re just resolving that as my break is ending. would’ve been cool to not have a year+ of jaw pain and headaches, in the same way it would’ve been cool to not have had to deal with a nasty ringworm infection for the entirety of my last semester in college. it is what it is, I guess.

but, like my [sort-of] regrets about spending my time in college not going out, I don’t think I’d have done much different if I could go back. I felt like I needed all this rest. being able to nap whenever I needed it has been a real blessing; it’d have been nice if it had ever made me feel less tired, of course. it’s given me a lot of time for self-reflection, not that I can remember much of the last two years anyhow. a lot of time to calm down, to take stock of where I am and what I might want. this is the longest stretch of time I’ve had with no school, no work, no anything since I was 2 years old. it’s been weird to be just outside the drawn-in lines of society. being able to go anywhere, any time; when doctors’ offices ask me what times work for me for appointments, I’ve been able to say “what times do you have?”, because most of the time any of them worked just fine.

so in a way I do want to kind of draw a line here. this is going to be a slow pivot, I imagine, but it’s my first real step in a direction of any sort since... probably since I applied to UMD. this is the first choice I actually wanted to make. not just the best opportunity. not just the most strategic move career-wise. it’s maybe the first step on a ladder climbing out of a pool; ‘just’ a step, but it’s a step. it’s something I can use to anchor myself until I figure out how to climb the rest of it.

if this is the start of a new chapter, I’m happy to close the last one. I want to focus my efforts right now on continuing to work on my health (backtracked on the word ‘fix’, because that’s probably not realistic). it’s so helpful to have a psychiatrist who actually works with me and wants answers almost as badly as I do. even my neuropsych took down her information, because he said he loves working with actually good psychiatrists, ha. I’m so grateful for her; she gave me back a little faith that psychiatry could be helpful for me. next step is a therapist that I can afford. baby steps. I want to look more seriously into graduate school. I need to; I’m not going to be a receptionist forever. my neuropsych recommended I find a vocational counselor, and I think that’s a good idea. someone that can actually help me figure out what my skills and passions are most suited for, rather than just telling me “you can do whatever you want to do (:”

I feel like I can breathe, finally. I just hope that this is the start of an upward turn. I’ve got a lot of anxieties, still, but I know I need to learn how to shut them up and just take things one step at a time. keep the hope that things will work out. somehow. somehow.

#blah blah

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behindthescenesgraphicnovel · 6 years

Text

One Year To Go...

Tales From When I Had A Face is an existential fairy tale, told for those of us that may have grown up, but still remember the uncertainty of a world steeped in the occult logic of dreams.

This book is still in production, we hope to be finished by the end of next year. Here are some thoughts about the project, how it was made, why it was made, what I’ve observed along the way.

Right now we’re many years in, at that point where I’m dug in the trenches and I know this world better than the day to day real world, but I don’t know how I’m going to get out the other side yet. I know it’s the most challenging book I’ve taken on, but it varies day by day how I think it’s actually going. Writing is always a bit of a bipolar ride.

This book accumulated in criptime. It’s like fingernails or snail shells, grown a bit at a time, one layer atop the next.

Here’s one layer:

The day there are no more humans on this earth, and no one left to remember and thereby recreate us, every painting or statue or book will be entirely identical with every other object in the world. It’s all just configurations of stuff, without our minds to breathe a different sort of life into a book or an album. Though there have been gaps, omissions, deletions, and the constant rewrites of the present, there’s been an ongoing narrative accumulated that we all can contribute some small part to. History. And of course those curated artifacts are a small part, too. Most of it is forgotten from explicit knowledge but is retained in more invisible ways.

That’s the sense of cosmic loss I wanted to drill into, and a Gnostic concept of history that should be made clear, at least implicitly, as the book unfolds. I spent about 5 years falling asleep to audiobooks and podcasts about being in the trenches at Verdun, or the killing fields, reading a lot of fiction and nonfiction — to Blood Meridianand The Sailor Who Fell From Grace From The Sea. Of course, a lot more, but they are the books that keep coming up. Ronald Hutton’s Shamans was particularly instructive, as was Bowie’s Blackstar.

I don’t try to emulate, ever, but I don’t understand authors who don’t want the “taint” of influence getting on their work. We are nothing at all except a reaction to a collection of influences. We curate and edit and restate and embellish, sure. This is how communal storytelling works, and I wanted to bring a little bit of that back to this story. The fairytale elements are told, grandmother to granddaughter.

I was never looking for one mythic story to reinterpret, and it’s not about the historic beliefs of Sakha or Yakut shamans. I was searching more for a Campbell style “essence” of human experience.

I don’t think that’s actually the way to go for nonfiction analysis of myth, there are issues with that approach, but for a dark fantasy like Tales, I felt I had enough license the get a general survey and then mythologize on that. Writing is part creative visualization, part language, part sense of meter, and stamina.

I chased that trail as far as I could, at a very dark period in my own life. When I was diagnosed with a variety of chronic health conditions, this project became what I could keep returning to, to try to create the sense that I was constructing some sort of meaning. For a time, I couldn’t feel it anywhere else. But I didn’t at all want this book to be about “my journey”, and it isn’t. It’s about the broader existential issues and dilemmas that experience brought out of my subconscious. A writer can’t really tell you what that all means though. Though damnit we’ll try anyway.

Tales From When I Had A Face is about this sense of perpetual loss of self and community, and the repression and dissociation of trauma, and how that catalyzes the nightmares we’ve recorded in history books.

About people who have lost their home and their people. It’s about erasure and finding meaning when we recognize that there’s no escape without a memory that invents a story of our life, and so who tends that story, and what must we think of a society that does not value it?

On the one hand I explored this idea analytically, in an anthology been working on simultaneously, Masks: Bowie and Artists of Artifice. On the other was Tales From When I Had A Face, where the process was purely creative, even shamanic. I’m sure it’ll sound pretentious, but it’s still true: this book is very much a ritual. The process of creating it has been, and hopefully the process of reading it will be as well.

I realize the absurdity of “but think about the death of meaning and the empty museums!” is a weird thing to get worked up about if we’re talking our death, or the collapse of a civilization. And even more so if constructing a myth about it could serve as medicine for me, or that I could muster the production skill from past decades of work to make such a project interesting to read. Even enjoyable, for the right reader.

I think here of Deleuze writing his final Immanence A Life, or Bowie’s swan song. Since none of us are around for long, not really, then who are we writing for? Who is “posterity”? Maybe this one is written for death. It will make of it what it may. If the book cover could be composed of bone entirely, it would be.

Deleuze was dying when it was written, and that’s what seemed to motivate that piece, its secret engine. About life, compelled to honesty by imminent death — on immanence, the totality of being.

So we see life always bleeds into fiction.

I wrote most of the first draft of Tales on a phone when I was homeless, couch surfing, dependent on the pain meds that kept chronic pain at bay. Among a long list of things, I had just lost my best friend, who I had written the previous Fallen Cycle books with. At least, he was someone I could always get to help me talk out the problems. And I did the same for him.

But I wasn’t at all trying to write about myself or my life. It’s only looking back on it now, especially the Alterran stuff, that I see, it’s all about people who have lost their home and their people. It’s about searching for meaning when we recognize that there’s no escape without a memory that invents a story of our life. And ultimately realizing that meaning is not sought but instead constructed.

We always give ourselves away, but it’s best to not try.

In terms of how the characters germinated, I’ll give an example:

At some early point in the planning process, I wondered, what if there was an entity who collected and maintained the knowledge of the dead? And around that built what became the Feyn, spirits who have learned to walk in the world of the living, and yet speak to the dead. They are the race who teach the first witch-doctors or Oyun. Eluane the “Raven-wanderer” especially, who becomes the last of his Chatillian kind, takes on this responsibility of retaining forgotten memory, before it is wiped clean by the souls passage before reincarnation.

Another option is presented: spirits that serve as the story itself, the Fallen, after whom the Fallen Cycle is named.

The entire book is composed of what I hope are somewhat unique takes on symbols that will feel unexpected, and yet still evoke that deja vu that is innate to the fairy tale. Those symbols are developed as if they compose a part of an unfamiliar tarot deck. Piles of notebooks hold discarded iterations of symbols systems and cosmologies. I wanted to bring many years of research on those subjects to bear in a way that wasn’t academic or entirely abstract. More surreal and poetic less Immanuel Kant. (Maybe I can never fully escape the ironics of Kierkegaard, however).

The visual art — 72 full color pages, 24 black and white — lends more to that effect, except that tarot imagery often feels so static. I wanted much of this to retain a sense of motion, life, and narrative.

It will likely be observed that this book is mostly about women, especially what Jung might have called the feminine shadow. They are all lunar. One of the five primary characters, the younger Ayta, is a lesbian. Two others are bisexual.

Again, I didn’t plan this in advance, and it isn’t a story about them being gay or female, but though male bodied, I was raised by lesbians. I can’t claim that experience as my own but it’s far from unfamiliar. In fact, queer culture has always felt more like home to me. So, in creating psychological mytheopia, I’m not surprised this was the end result. Still, people will argue about what stories we have a right to tell. I feel confident telling the story I had to tell here, but I don’t see that as being intended to speak for anyone else, or their own experience.

Anyhow, that’s my first brain dump on production. Hopefully it’s been interesting to some of you. And I’m back to editing the MS.

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djgblogger-blog · 7 years

Text

Is Congress' plan to save Puerto Rico working?

http://bit.ly/2vKQgzj

Puerto Ricans are increasingly fed up with austerity. AP Photo/Danica Coto

A year ago, Congress cobbled together a plan to try to save Puerto Rico from its US$123 billion debt and pension crisis without costing American taxpayers a penny.

The law, signed by former President Barack Obama on June 30, 2016, effectively steered Puerto Rico into bankruptcy-like proceedings in federal court to prevent a massive default, while saddling the commmonwealth with an oversight board to ensure it put its fiscal house in order.

Though the vote was bipartisan, critics called it a “Band-Aid” that would do little to solve Puerto Rico’s core problems: unsustainable debt that has kept the country mired in recession for almost a dozen years. As Democratic Sen. Bob Menendez, the plan’s fiercest foe, put it:

“Mark my words: if we don’t seize this opportunity to address this crisis in a meaningful way, we’ll be right back here in a year from now picking up the pieces.”

So a year later, have his words proven prescient? Or has the law – known by the acronym PROMESA – lived up to its promise to “create the necessary foundation for economic growth and to restore opportunity to the people of Puerto Rico”?

The Financial Oversight and Management Board that Congress established to manage Puerto Rico’s finances released its first progress report on July 31. At Hunter College’s Center for Puerto Rican Studies, we’ve also been keeping score, as well as tracking the human side of the crisis.

Out of options

Before Congress passed the Puerto Rico Oversight, Management and Economic Stability Act (PROMESA), the Caribbean island – located about 1,000 miles southeast of Miami – had run out of options.

The end of a federal tax exemption for U.S. companies to build factories in Puerto Rico precipitated the crisis, while the global financial meltdown in 2008 made it a whole lot worse. Shut out of the credit markets after its debt was downgraded to “junk,” a government default loomed.

While U.S. municipalities can declare bankruptcy via Chapter 9, Congress in 1984 excluded Puerto Rico from seeking its relief for reasons that still elude most analysts, including me.

But with PROMESA, Puerto Rico got the breathing room for debt restructuring it so desperately needed. To judge the law’s effectiveness, however, we must determine how far it’s come in resolving the commonwealth’s three key problems: too much debt, a budget that bleeds red and – most importantly – jump-starting a battered economy.

A mountain of debt

One of the primary goals of PROMESA was to steer negotiations with creditors and eventually lead to a restructuring of $74 billion in crushing debt and $49 billion in unfunded pension obligations.

In May, Puerto Rico formally filed for bankruptcy under the special court process PROMESA created, the first time a U.S. state or territory has done so. This will allow the island to significantly reduce how much it must pay its creditors – such as mutual funds, hedge funds and individual Puerto Ricans and Americans – and retirees to whom it owes pensions. Ultimately, a New York federal judge will determine who gets what.

Puerto Rico will also have to fend off several lawsuits filed by creditors and bond insurers, some of which allege the debt-cutting plans violate the U.S. Constitution.

The seven-member Financial Oversight and Management Board should be commended for being sensible toward the need to restructure the island’s unsustainable debt levels. That process, so far, is working as intended but is far from conclusive.

Balancing the budget

That brings us to fiscal policy and the budget.

In October 2016, the Financial Oversight and Management Board revealed that Puerto Rico faced a $67.5 billion budget gap through 2026. In March, it approved a plan submitted by Gov. Ricardo Rosselló to narrow the gap by about $40 billion over a decade by, among other things, cutting health care, reducing certain pension benefits by 10 percent and putting government employees on furlough.

Simply put, punishing austerity seems unavoidable, particularly as the population continues to decline, which makes the fiscal problem worse by reducing tax revenue. About 500,000 people have left the island since the crisis began, according to my center’s research.

That’s because austerity is already sinking deep into the lives of Puerto Ricans. Funding to schools, hospitals and other essential services has been severely cut, more than 150 schools have closed and teachers, doctors and scientists are part of the island’s exodus heading for the mainland.

The plan also calls for a sharp drop in debt payments to creditors – to about 25 cents on the dollar – until the bankruptcy court rules on final amounts. Yet, despite progress on debt restructuring, the Financial Oversight and Management Board has become the face of austerity. Public opinion, at times hopeful, has given way to a growing chorus of voices against austerity, protests and other forms of resistance to the undemocratic nature of the Financial Oversight and Management Board.

The bigger challenge: Growing the economy

Unfortunately, the fiscal plan’s austerity will make it harder to achieve the most important goal: sustainable economic growth.

Puerto Rico has endured a debilitating economic recession since 2006, the year the tax incentive for U.S. companies ended, driving unemployment as high as 17 percent (it’s currently 10 percent) and poverty to about 46 percent. It is estimated that up to 84 percent of children live in poverty areas.

The austerity in the plan, based on the government’s own projections, is expected to reduce economic growth of 2 to 3 percentage points annually over the next five years.

With numbers like these, one would think that Congress would be hard at work devising urgent economic development measures to rapidly boost growth. Unfortunately, this has not happened. Congress has yet to act on a report prepared by a bipartisan task force it set up as part of PROMESA, which laid out several key recommendations, such as shoring up Medicaid, extending the earned income tax credit to the island and supporting business development. The Financial Oversight and Management Board, in its report, also encouraged Congress to do more to stimulate Puerto Rico’s economy.

As for the Financial Oversight and Management Board and Puerto Rico’s government, not a single major economic development project has been presented to the board, even though PROMESA explicitly gives it power to fast-track “critical infrastructure” projects that create jobs and jump-start the economy.

Puerto Rico Gov. Ricardo Rossello celebrates the results of a referendum on statehood in June. AP Photo/Carlos Giusti

Growing into a state?

The issue is now getting tangled up in Puerto Rico’s separate (and controversial) bid for statehood.

In a recent referendum plagued by poor turnout, Puerto Ricans voted to become the 51st state, which some argue is necessary to resolve its fiscal woes because it’ll lead to a lot of benefits. The General Accounting Office estimated that parity in federal programs will add up to $10 billion in transfers to the island. But bondholders and others are objecting to Congress’ consideration of statehood until the debt crisis is over.

They’re right about one thing: The likelihood that Congress would consider granting statehood to a bankrupt state or as a solution to the economic challenge via some kind of bailout is slim to say the least. For advocates of statehood, as it is for advocates of other political status options, the surest way to advance their cause is a revival of Puerto Rico’s economy.

Restructuring the debt and balancing the budget are important steps in that direction, but austerity alone will not solve the problem, just as it hasn’t in Greece. Puerto Rico cannot simply cut its way to solvency. It needs growth.

And to that end, Puerto Rico’s government could begin planning economic initiatives with the private sector, while Congress could act on the task force report, modest steps that could help the island get back on its feet. The data clearly show that it will only become a lot more expensive and politically sensitive.

In fact, solving the economic and fiscal crisis, while mitigating the impact of austerity on the most vulnerable populations, might be the most certain pathway to (finally) solving the political status question.

Edwin Meléndez does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond the academic appointment above.

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