#i tried to write the blurb in the style of some AT comics i have...

[monarch-moon]

Re: that last reblog

I might get a few raised eyebrows over this but here goes...

TL;DR: Thanks to that post, I'm accepting that I'm not cut out for producing consistent forms of media, internalized ableism might be why, I'm not cancelling Elegy, but Imma just do whatever I want.

Full thing with explanations below, but beware, Imma get personal for a bit, and my experiences with ableism will be mentioned, which...I never really talk about outside of my innermost circles:

In the last several years, I always thought my inability to make comics or games or literally any other form of consistent medias was due to the fact that I "lacked discipline". That was reinforced by the fact that the artists I follow, a couple of my friends, and my fiancee, are all webcomic artists that handle/handled things at a moderately consistent pace. This was also reinforced by shit I was told when I was younger IRL, when my undiscovered neurodivergency was excused by shit like "you're lazy" or "you lack discipline" and other similar statements.

In the last several years, I've tried time and time again to make some consistent medium in which my stories can be told, namely comics and games. I wanted to believe that I was doing it for the love of my stories, but in truth, I was doing it to "improve my discipline", which inevitably, ended in failure time and time and time again, and with each failure, hatred for myself increased, and in the last couple of years....it began to extend to my confidence and my stories. It all ended in one thought to everything: There's something wrong with me.

Recently, I felt like I experienced an artist's existential crisis, thanks to the one-two punch of burnout from doing Elegy Chapter 1 and being slapped with arthritis-related issues: why do I create, am I a good artist, why do I love these stories, is there really a right way to tell a story, do I ACTUALLY love the stories I make?

Well obviously, yes, I do love the stories and worlds I create, but for whatever reason, I genuinely cannot get myself to do anything beyond disjointed art pieces of stuff that would be classified as "spoilers". My followers want something more than that, I thought. They want stories.

But then that post came across my dash, and I felt like I was hit with an epiphany.

For one, I was projecting onto the followers I do have. I know those that truly stick around through my inconsistencies after all these years will love the stuff I create no matter the form or medium, and no matter how out of context it is. I should believe that rather than the imaginary expectations that have been placed on me for years.

Two, it was never about a lack of discipline....I was actively working against my neurodivergent brain, AKA how I function entirely. Of course it wouldn't work! It's like asking a mircowave to be a washing machine! Realizing that lifted a huge weight off my shoulders as both an artist and a person.

Three, I create because I love to. That's it, that's all the reason is! I love the art of creating worlds and weaving stories and writing fun and complex characters, and I love seeing how they all interact and change and influence off each other! The world influences the characters, the character influences the story, the story influences the world.

Soooo, why not draw whatever I want, do whatever I want, and be whatever I want? Out of context sketches and arts and insane ramblings is just as valid as a medium right?

While I do have people who work on webcomics, I also know and follow people who do this exact thing: draw things relating to their story, attach a blurb to said pictures about their worlds and characters in various forms of medium, and nothing more.

So I'm going to try that. Forget the manga....well okay, I might still do smaller comics for funsies, but forget "proper" mediums, Imma do whatever I want, and I know people will love it, no matter the numbers! Gives me a LOT more room to experiment with different styles and mediums and the like!

If you've managed to read this far, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I do have a terrible relationship with social media and how the internet is nowadays, but I do cherish the followers that have stuck around this far. I wanna do things for y'all, but above all, do things for me.

[its-real]

They dont need a light show to show how much they rock!

Splur, considered to be the greatest (and only) band in Ooo, consists of the members Flame Prince (first name Graham), Damon the Human, Alex Abadeer and Banana Dave (not pictured).

[muffindaddystyles]

DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

..

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

..

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

..

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

..

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

..

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

..

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

..

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

..

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

..

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

..

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

..

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

..

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

[redgoldsparks]

May Reading and Reviews by Maia Kobabe

I post my reviews throughout the month on Storygraph and Goodreads, and do roundups here and on patreon. Full reviews below the cut.

The Third Person by Emma Grove

Don't be intimidated by this book's page count- I read the entire thing in one evening. The simple yet expressive art, the well-paced dialogue and emotional journey of the lead character drew me in. Grove writes of her experience seeking therapy to advance her gender transition, only to uncover a Dissociative Identity Disorder and a deep well of unprocessed childhood trauma. The majority of the story takes place in a therapist's office, in which a questionable medical professional out of his depth tries to sort through the truth of Grove's three distinct alters. Misunderstandings and deliberate concealments on the part of both the therapist and the patient lead them to distrust each other, accuse each other of lying, and at various points storm out of therapy sessions on each other. Yet, these sessions continued for over six months and did begin to chip away at some of the blocked memories Grove was hiding from herself. I left this narrative with a much better understanding of how Dissociative Identity Disorder manifests and the struggle it is to live with. I have so much empathy for the author, and I'm extremely glad she was able to heal to the point where writing this book was possible. I had the pleasure of reading an advanced copy and writing a blurb for this book!

Messy Roots: A Graphic Memoir of a Wuhanese-American by Laura Gao

The author writes of an idyllic childhood spent in Wuhan, China, surrounded by cousins, grandparents, and countryside. This time was interrupted by a move to Texas when the author was four years old, and then years of trying to fit in at primarily white elementary schools and high schools. Laura only began to find an Asian community, and a queer community, in college and afterwards when living in San Francisco in her first shared apartment with a group of POC friends. Drawn in a lively, energic style with limited colors and humorous asides, this memoir untangles some of the challenges of identity that come from home meaning many vastly different places and cultures. A fast, enjoyable read!

Real Hero Shit by Kendra Wells

A fun, fast-paced short comic that reads like a single session D&D campaign. Eugene is the handsome, flirty, single son of a queen and heir to a kingdom. He whimsically joins an adventuring crew with a gentle nonbinary cleric, a mysterious knife-wielding thief, and a prickly mage. They pick up odd jobs on the way to their goal: a small town plagued by disappearances. Tensions run high in this misfit band, and it's only a matter of time until they start stabbing each other, or making out, or both! Delightful art and character designs from an artist/author I've been following since we met in a mutual fandom :D

They Call Me Mix/Me Llamo Maestre by Lourdes Rivas and illustrated by Breena Nunez

A short, sweet, bilingual book about nonbinary gender identity. The book emphasizes the importance of listening to your heart, speaking your truth, and respecting the identities and pronouns of others. Una breve y tierna historia bilingüe sobre la identidad de género no binaria. El libro enfatiza la importancia de escuchar tu corazón, decir tu verdad y respetar las identidades y los pronombres de los demás.

Never Have I Ever Stories by Isabel Yap

I absolutely loved this debut short story collection. It contains thirteen stories, some spooky, some sweet, many queer, many infused with Filipino myths or set around Manila. Every story was special in its own way but "How to Swallow the Moon," a fairytale drenched with lesbian yearning, and "A Spell For Foolish Hearts," a gay meet-cute story about a part-time witch who works at a tech startup in San Francisco really stood out to me. But there was also "Milagroso" about a future of fully human engineered food and a saint's day miracle; and "Hurricane Heels" about the bachelorette party of a Sailor-Moon-esque crime fighting magical girl. So much to enjoy! I plan to keep an eye on this author.

Squire by Sara Alfageeh and Nadia Shammas

Aiza has always dreamed of becoming a Knight for the Bayt-Sajji Empire. Also, as a member of the recently colonized Ornu people, its one of her only paths to full citizenship. Her parents don't want her to go, but eventually they allow to let her enlist, if she hides her race. Aiza befriends a dreamer who grew up on stories of heroes; a strong, practical, no-nonsense older girl; and a retired Knight with one arm who trains Aiza in secret. She is the runt of the trainee litter but she's determined to prove herself. What she didn't realize is that joining the army means joining the machinery of empire, conquest, and violence. As she rises in the ranks, she must confront what she is fighting for, and against. This is a very beautiful and richly drawn story, which reminded me of a childhood favorite, Alanna but from a refreshingly non-European perspective.

The Hazards of Love vol 1 by San Stanley

Amparo is a gender-nonconforming teen deadbeat, frequently suspended from school, who stresses out their single working mom and abuela. When a talking cat approaches them offering them a wish, Amparo foolishly thinks this is a kindness. Instead, the cat steals Amparo's name and identity, banishing them, nameless, into The Bright World. Here, humans are seen as food or toys by the monsters and magical animals who inhabit this place somewhere between life, death, and fairyland. Our hero has to use their wits and reckless confidence to scheme, scam, and bluff their way through this dangerous new world. I love watching the boldness of the way this protagonist takes on a very scary situation, and the rich, decorative page designs. I know that this comic was initially posted online as a webcomic, and it has a certain mid-2000s webcomic feel. Online the story was in black and white; in print, the story is in color for the first time. Some of the pages did unfortunately print a little too dark, but it's still exciting to see the bright colors of The Bright World.

A-Okay by Jarad Green

Jay is having a hard time in eighth grade. His best friend has joined a band and no longer seems to have time for him; getting the art class he wants give him a challenging and lonely schedule; and he's developed a very intense and painful case of acne, far beyond what any of his peers seems to be struggling with. He also doesn't understand the crushes and romantic feels his classmates seem to all be developing for each other. Jay sets out of a long series of dermatology appointments, a medication with uncomfortable side effects including mood swings, hot flashes, cracked and peeling lips, and rashes. He does his best to make his way through the rough last year of junior high with as much creativity and joy as he can find. This is a simple yet important story of feeling self-conscious and alone in the very years it's most painful to feel like an outsider. But Jay stays true to himself and I think many young readers will feel seen by this book.

Bitter by Akwaeke Emezi read by Bahni Turpin

Like Pet, I listened to this as an audiobook and that added a ton to my experience of it! Bahni Turpin is truly one of the most delightful audiobook narrators out there. Bitter is a student at a well funded and mysterious art boarding school, the first place she has ever felt really safe after a life in the foster care system. She has good friends, but she has not shared with them her deepest secret: that if she puts a drop of blood on one of her drawings, it will come to life. Bitter's school is in Lucille, a city scarred with inequality and violence. A corrupt mayor and a city council in the pockets of a billionaire put profit above the citizen's needs. There is an active resistance movement, but Bitter wants nothing to do with it. She has panic attacks when thinking about the protests and police shootings, but also feels guilty that as an art student she isn't doing anything for social change. This book wrestles with hard questions, about the role of violence and art in revolution, about what is needed to shake up a broken system and begin again. I also loved that the majority of the characters are queer.

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree

I was utterly charmed by this fantasy coffee shop romance. Viv, an orc who has spent her whole career traveling and fighting with adventure crews, decides she wants to settle down to a quieter life. In her journeys she had the chance to try a rare gnomish drink, a latte, and she still thinks of that delicious drink and the peaceful atmosphere of the café often. She decides she wants to open her own café- even though she has no food service experience, no one in her chosen city of Thune has ever heard of coffee, and the local gang demands monthly "tributes" from all businesses on Viv's side of the river. But Viv is determined, and she will build this business brick by brick if she has to. Similar in tone to Terry Pratchett, but a bit gentler and sweeter, I'd recommend this for anyone who wants to read an easy story about a woman thriving and achieving her dreams.

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

6/8: Working From Home (Bat Hybrid!Namjoon)

Rating: G

Characters: Bat Hybrid!Namjoon x Reader (any gender)

Notes: Day 8 of my birthday surprise series. This is part of the Misunderstood Hybrid headcanons I wrote for BTS a while back. Please note that working from home can refer to anyone who does this and it does not specifically reference the current events. I got the idea to write short blurbs after seeing some comical pictures and moments in video conference calls of pets “helping” their owners work. All content is fictional. Please do not repost anywhere!

                                                   ————–

You breathed a sigh of relief once you closed the door to your home office behind you without making too much noise. You walked to your desk and set your coffee cup on a coaster, while your other hand shook the mouse to wake up the computer. 

It was a rare moment when your boss allowed you to work from home for a few days and you had tried to get up, eat breakfast, and get settled into your office without waking your bat hybrid. Thankfully he was sound sleep when you left the bed about an hour ago, snoring lightly with the covers pulled up to his chin.

You clicked open a few e-mails and read through them, before checking the calendar in the upper right corner of your e-mail to see if there were any meetings scheduled for today. Your eyes fell on the single time slot that was blocked on your calendar for a 30 minute video conference call with one of your vendors, which was happening in 15 minutes. Immediately you looked around for headphones or a headset that you could use during the meeting.

You quietly pulled open a drawer and muttered a thank you when you found a headset inside. You placed them on the desk and unwound the tangled cord to plug into your computer.

                                                  ————–

Namjoon rolled over on his side and grunted when he saw you were gone already. He ran a hand across his face and yawned, stretching his arms out. His wings, which had been folded down, expanded outward when he stretched, tapping the bedside lamp. His head snapped toward the lamp and he managed to catch it before it could tip over.

The bat hybrid carefully moved out from under the covers and tried to make it without knocking more things over with his wings. His eyes darted every now and then to the lamps and bedside tables to make sure his wings didn’t get too close. Once the bed looked presentable, he smiled and headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up and dressed for the day.

                                                  ————–

“I’ve already told you, we did not like the hand feel of that blank!” your boss sighed as your rep from the apparel vendor showed off a sample t-shirt.

You maintained a neutral expression, but part of you was grateful for your boss speaking up about this. Lately your apparel vendors had been trying to push trendy t-shirt and fashion shirt blanks on your projects and you were finding that customers weren’t loving the feel of these newer shirts. You tried explaining this to your rep, but often he insisted that the blanks were a hot seller.

A colleague of yours pulled up the selling report and read off the numbers of your best-selling shirts and compared them to a few test shirts in the trendy t-shirt styles that you decided to test in the shops. “Basically,” your colleague concluded, “they might work for other people, but our clientele isn’t loving them and they aren’t willing to pay the prices for them, even if they love the artwork or design on the front.”

“It’s settled then,” you spoke up. “We stick with the silhouettes that work. Do you have that mock-up of the youth tee you promised to have done?”

You muted your microphone when you heard a bowl clatter in the kitchen and you turned around in your seat for a moment.

“Y/N, everything all right?” your boss asked.

You snapped your head back to the screen and nodded, before un-muting your microphone. You jabbed a thumb at the door and explained that it was probably your roommate waking up. No one at work knew you had a bat hybrid living with you; instead, they thought you were sharing your space with a male roommate.

“Oh making a mess in the kitchen?” your colleague joked with a grin. “Y/N said they have a clumsy roommate. Nice guy, but almost a hazard to himself.”

“Then we will wrap this meeting up,” your boss said. A faint smile spread her face and she jokingly added, “Don’t want the roommate starting a fire while you’re home.”

“Oh very funny,” you remarked with a shake of your head. You prompted your rep to show the team the sample of the youth tee you asked for and the rep held up a tie-dye shirt with a cute graphic on the front.

Everyone seemed to respond positively to it and your rep made some comments on correcting some of the artwork colors and center placement on the shirt. You agreed with the changes and made notes on your notepad.

“I’ll send a recap by the end of today about what was discussed,” you promised. “Thanks everyone!” You clicked the End Call button and removed your headset, before grabbing your coffee mug to carry out to the kitchen.

“Nam are you – oh boy...”

Namjoon looked up from trying to look at his phone screen and he blinked, stepping back a few steps in shock when he saw you. There was a little bit of flour on one cheek and he had his sleeves rolled up, the left one starting to slip down his arm.

“Y/N, um good morning!” he said. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have work today?”

You pointed to the home office and explained you were working from home. “I might have forgotten to tell you – sorry about that.” You crossed your arms over your chest and nodded at his phone, which was propped up against your bread box. “Trying to make something?”

He sighed as he nudged his glasses up with his arm. “I’m trying to make fluffy pancakes like the ones you get in Japan – one of my students gave me the recipe as a thank you for helping them in Zoology, but I should have assembled the ingredients first. I kind of got excited to make them and starting grabbing things as I went along, but that’s not working.”

“You want help?”

He raised a brow and asked if you had work left to do. “I mean, I don’t wanna get you in trouble.”

“I think I can take a quick break to help you get everything together in one place, then letting you handle the cooking,” you told him. “Just don’t burn the apartment down.”

“HEY!”

[readingwebcomics]

Analyzing Questionable Content: Pages 151-200

High school bully or not, I’d like to reiterate the fact that Dora’s presence is so terrifying that it can repel a trained government agent. That’s a level of badass we should all strive to be.

…I mean like, don’t actually beat people up and steal their cigarettes, lung cancer is bad. But still!

Before getting into things, I’d like to open with a little bit of bookkeeping: First, as was pointed out to me by at least two different people, I COMPLETELY misread #123 – it was Marten who was helping Steve out on a date, not the other way around. This was completely my bad, so I personally retract everything I said about Jeph’s timescale.

Secondly, on my point on Dora’s identity crisis, user Scarlet Manuka had this to say:

For the time frame of Dora's goth phase, I think that Jeph is actually trying to present this as a genuine identity crisis for Dora - but it's also likely one that's been a long time building up. She's probably been becoming increasingly disenchanted with it for the last couple of years, and given that Raven complains that she's missed fifteen or so meetings, it looks like she's already subconsciously let it go quite some time in the past. I think we're seeing more the conscious realisation of a process that's already happened. In many ways that's what an identity crisis is: the realisation that the slow incremental changes we all experience every day have added up into something big while you weren't looking, and that something you thought was part of you really isn't any more.

That’s a perfectly fair point and one I didn’t consider. Thanks for bringing this up, under this light the time frame of Dora’s realization and her gradual shift into a different identity over the course of the next few comics makes perfect sense.

Finally, it was pointed out to me by Marco on the QC Forums that it’s only fair to link to the comic itself in these posts. While I had figured it was really simple to find the comic for whoever’s reading it considering it’s one of the biggest, longest running webcomics out there, they do have a point that I at least owe it to supply links to the site in these posts. So from now on, the dumb intro blurb to each of my posts will hyperlink to the first comic in the batch I’ll be talking about. That way, you can read along with the analysis if you so wish. Cool? Cool.

Now with that all out of the way, let’s move on to the analysis. Agent Turing has nope’d out and Dora saw herself out, letting Marten know that if he buys her dinner she’ll call it even.

This is a weird case of me totally getting WHY Jeph’s going this particular direction – he needs Marten and Faye at an ice cream shop to reveal a bit more about Faye’s backstory, which we’ll be touching on a bit later – but the particular setup for doing this feels… off. This right here reads like a textbook case of a writer going “Fuck, how do I get these characters to do XYZ…” and this being the best solution they could come up with. What’s worse about this is that only a few panels later, Jeph offers a much better alternative:

Literally all he had to do was have Faye be the one to bring this up: Instead of the panel with Marten blatantly asking “So THAT happened, what do you want to do now?” have Faye be the one to bring up that Marten owes her a little something for helping out with the situation, he brings up the ice cream parlor and then the rest of the comic goes on as normal. This may sound pedantic, but it’s a case where just a slight change in wording makes all the difference between sounding contrived and sounding natural.

I have… issues with this comic.

On one hand, Faye is opening up more about her past. A small, innocuous thing spurred her on to open up a little more to Marten, the reminder cracking her mask and showing just how much trauma she’s really containing within. You can tell this is more than just “bringing back memories” – his death had a profound impact on her, there’s something she’s not wanting to bring up or discuss but is being partially dragged to the surface. This is good character writing, and an amazing step in Faye’s character arc. It spurs curiosity, sparks intrigue, makes you WANT to keep reading to see the next time Faye’s mask cracks because you want to see what she’s hiding underneath it.

On the other hand… there’s no nice way to say this – at this point, Jeph is not talented enough at drawing to portray this from an imagery standpoint. The faces are too stiff, the expressions to stock. Faye doesn’t look like tears are escaping from her despite her best efforts to keep a straight face, she looks like she’s mildly disinterested and a blue line to represent tears was drawn on top of her face. Writing can take you far, but the thing about comics is that the written word is only half of the story. Anything you sell with words, you need to also be able to sell with expressions, with physicality and staging.

I’m not an expert in art – not by a LONG shot, I couldn’t draw a comic to save my life – so I can’t exactly offer any advice on how he could’ve made this work better. I’m at least glad to say that with time Jeph came to improve his artistic style, making moments like this feel a lot more natural down the road. He eventually gets comfortable enough with his drawings that he’s able to tell a story using JUST body language, which is admirable. Clearly, we’re not there yet… and unfortunately, it hurts the mood that this comic is trying to sell.

After a week of guest comics, we continue the story with Faye sharing stories about her childhood with Marten, showing just how comfortable she’s become around him that she feels at ease sharing details about her past she likely wouldn’t share otherwise.

Oh, and we’ve got some revelations about Marten’s past here. The Thanksgiving comic where he talks about how his family drives him crazy is starting to make more sense now, isn’t it?

Here, we see three things displayed. First, the fraction used in Marten’s dialogue instead of just saying “half”. I… don’t get why that is. It makes me irrationally angry though. I’m aware that’s fully on me.

Second, this serves to showcase both Marten’s blasé attitude about his strange upbringing and offer potentially an expiation as to why he seems so passive about everything. I’ve offered up the idea in a previous post that when he goes out and makes a choice, it’s enough to completely shift his entire world, so that may have served to encourage him not to not want to rock the boat and keep his head low. This, however, might serve as an alternative explanation, or at least another piece of the puzzle – growing up in a… let’s call it “untraditional” household where his parents were clearly quite open about what they were doing with his son, the fact that Marten grew up to be rather milquetoast serves to make a certain degree of sense.

Third, Marten’s being sassy. I like when Marten’s sassy. As I said, his character kind of… devolves in later comics, so seeing him have a spine enough to throw this out is always fun to read. Plus, it also serves to showcase how comfortable the two of them are with each other that Marten can sling this stuff out without fear of retaliation.

Setup...

The next day, Faye’s leaving for work when a surprise visitor comes to their door.

Marten’s comment always makes me laugh. This comic in general is just hilarious, from Amanda – Faye’s sister’s name is Amanda by the way – triple bomb thrown right into Faye’s lap to Faye’s 404 error to Marten not even missing a beat in his reaction to what’s going on in front of him.

Honestly, I’m with Marten here. And once again, I’m afraid I have to point out the fact that Jeph isn’t quite talented at drawing facial expressions yet ruins the punchline to Faye’s joke in the last panel. At least the writing serves to keep the humor going strong, and don’t mistake me here – these next few comics are gut busters. I fucking love the chaos Amanda causes by just stepping into their lives.

Oh yeah, I guess I should talk about Amanda now, shouldn’t I? Well, uh. Hm. She’s a Lesbian. And she’s a bit of a troublemaker. And like a little bit of a ditz?

…yeah that’s literally all I can think to describe her as. Cut me a little bit of slack here though, at the time of writing we’re on page 4010 and I’d be genuinely surprised if Amanda was in more than 50 pages total. The only real significant things I can think to say about her as a character is how what she says and does serves to inform Faye’s character.

Like right here – we can see the whole “doesn’t plan much further than the very next step you’re about to take” mentality runs in Faye’s family. Also, Jeph’s trying different angles out! Good on him, even little changes like this can serve to make the action feel at least slightly more dynamic!

“Clitoriste” is an amazing word and I hope to find a way to work it into at least one conversation before I die.

Amanda hangs around the coffee shop, swapping sex stories with Dora as Faye desperately tries to claw her own eardrums until Marten comes along. And as I’m saying this, I realize with hindsight that Dora’s being super cool right now, not only letting her loiter around her business but also realizing she was kicked out of her house at least in part because of her sexuality and so is letting her know “Hey, fucking girls is AWESOME, right?” to keep her mind off current events. The more I talk about Dora, the cooler she gets, seriously.

“Aerodynamically curvaceous” is another amazing phrase, this one great enough that Jeph eventually made it into a T-shirt. Seeing as I have as many curves on me as a string bean does, there’s no way I could get away with wearing it myself, but the fact that the shirt exists makes me a little happier to be alive.

Anyway, this comic goes on to show that despite the circumstances, Amanda is taking this rather well all things considered, and Faye has faith that given some time to sit with the information their mom will come around… Also that Faye was a damn good student, which might go on to explain how she was able to absorb so much information about guitars when her ex rambled on about them so much – she just retains information THAT well.

This comic… raises a LOT of questions. The last comic involves characters from another webcomic entirely, making this a fun little Easter Egg/crossover sort of deal. That being said, this raises a LOT of questions about the continuity of QC. Does it take place within the universe of Diesel Sweeties? Or does Diesel Sweeties exist within the universe of QC? The fact that we have a humanoid robot here – does that serve to shed a light on AI development in the QC universe? Did Jeph consider what AI development there would be at this point in writing? I assume not, as thus far the only intelligent devices are Anthro PCs. Is Clango an Anthro PC? Is he a prototype of a more advanced synthetic?

These are questions that were never intended for me to ask, aren’t they? Yeah. That’s what I figured. Considering the fact that Amanda has a girlfriend is canon, and the following phone conversation on the next page is canon as well, the best way to rationalize this is to just pretend that last panel doesn’t exist. Remove it entirely, and this strip fits in perfectly with QC’s established continuity and universe thus far.

Unless you REALLY want to find a way to fit Diesel Sweeties into QC’s universe, which I suppose wouldn’t be that difficult considering it’s a non-plot focused gag-a-day comic, but that’s entirely up to you.

Oh, and speaking of the conversation the two have over the phone:

Credit where it’s due, Dora’s expression on the first two panels is clearly different from the standard set of facial expressions Jeph usually puts on everyone. It’s always nice to see some experimentation! And here’s another situation where Amanda’s main purpose is to drive forward Faye’s character – here we get another hint of something that happened in her past, confirmation that she hasn’t dated anyone in a long time and some kind of source of a reason why she hadn’t. The scar on her chest, the death of her father, the lack of a love life stemming from some event… pieces to the Faye puzzle are falling into place, but we still don’t have everything. We’re given just enough to inspire further curiosity though, which – and I know I’ve said this a hundred times before, but I will say it a hundred times again – is good character writing.

…all that said, I sincerely hope that phone was shock proof. I don’t think her Mom’s exactly going to be in the mood to get her a new one.

Considering Amanda stole her credit card and all, I don’t blame their mom for being furious at her. That said, it’s nice to see that it didn’t take long at all for her to calm down and want to talk things over.

And here, we have specific confirmation that there was a set of “circumstances” that led Faye to want to leave home and move up here. Another piece of the Faye mystery falls into place.

Amanda’s immediately heading off to the airport to return home, leaving Marten and Faye to reel in the wake of an… I’d say it’s fair to call it an intense day.

HAH! If you haven’t read all the way through QC, you don’t understand why that’s so funny in hindsight. Trust me, give it another few hundred comics and it’ll make sense. God, I wonder if that specific reference was intentional on Jeph’s part, or if he just likes Vespas? Then again… he IS an anime buff, it’s entirely possible both events stem from FLCL.

Oh hey, there’s that pink Anthro PC again. We saw them back at the LANPark. Haven’t added them to the character list though since we don’t even know their name, but it seems like Pintsize has friends and a life off-panel. Good for him! I do wonder what ends up happening to these guys later though… Most likely they all just drift apart and move on with their lives.

...Why am I so sad all of a sudden?

And here we see an example of the two of them openly flirting with each other, dipped deep in sarcasm of course but that’s just how these two roll. Their inter-personal relationship has progressed really well and at a nice, natural pace so far. At this rate, something should be coming to a head very soon – either one or the both of them need to acknowledge the fact that they’re getting closer, or something’s going to happen that will throw a monkey wrench into the dance they’re performing.

Ugh. I’m coming to hate whenever Marten says “What do you want to do now?” Maybe it’s just me, I’m willing to accept I’m reading too much into this, but whenever he says that all I hear in my head is Jeph going “I can’t think of a more natural way to transition into this next scene so I’ll have Marten ask this question to push the scene forward.” It just feels like bad storytelling to me, it really does.

Now, I need you to hold onto your seats right now, because what you’re about to read next might just be the greatest comic you’ve ever read in your life. The mere act of seeing this may very well knock you out of your seat. Are you ready for this? I don’t think you are – I don’t think ANY of us are. Brace yourselves.

My man, Jimbo! And yes, he is officially called Jimbo now, so we’ll be changing the name in the character stats screen at the end of this post. And this man, this absolute LEGEND, is living the dream – quitting his blue-collar job to pursue his passion in writing! He’s worked hard to get where he is in life, and now that he’s here, the fruits of his labor are paying off! As a commercial electrician who’s writing on the side, I strive to be like Jimbo one day. God bless you, you absolute PINNACLE of human achievement!

I can’t NOT show off more Jimbo comics, he’s just that great. Also, Faye’s drunken antics are fucking hilarious.

Credit where it’s due to Faye for not only helping Jimbo out with his writing but also doing it as a completely on-the-spot Haiku, while totally piss drunk. Not even going to lie, that takes talent.

Faye’s willingness to engage in behavior like this raises… questions. Questions that I’m not entirely comfortable asking right now considering the author’s own past with alcohol. I’ll touch more on it when we reach the batch of comics 501-550, I’m going to need more time to prepare myself to talk about it in a way that’s as respectful as possible.

And finally… the moment of truth. When long-time readers of QC remember the Pre-500 era, there are two things that come to our mind: The actual conversation that happens at issue 500 that marks the transitional phase of QC into the kind of webcomic it is today… and the headbutt-crotch-vomit comic.

Behold.

I’m not even going to try offering commentary here. Absolutely nothing I could say can be better than what you just witnessed in this comic.

This page right here… it has an interesting dynamic between its first and last panels. Panel one, again, Jeph takes the time to make a new facial expression for Faye as she’s waking up, one that looks nice and works with the dialogue to communicate how she’s feeling. And then in the last panel… well, I don’t think it’s exactly controversial to say that her face in the last panel doesn’t communicate the confusion and rage she’s supposed to be feeling as expressed in the dialogue, is it? Jeph is getting there, his artistry is clearly evolving, but he’s not quite talented enough to pull it all off quite yet. Still, little improvements should be applauded!

And here we get another character confirming suspicions raised back in #172, that being Faye clearly has some relationship hangups stemming from something happening in her past. This raises some concerns considering their more flirtatious behavior around each other and their developing inter-personal relationship. At this point, SOMETHING has to happen to inspire a reaction or change out of one of the two, or they may very well find themselves trapped in stagnation… keep that in mind for a little while longer. On the art side of things, something to note that I just realized… Steve has a shine in his eyes to make them look more natural and full of life, but Marten’s doesn’t. Is there any particular reason for this? And why am I noticing it just now? Actually looking back a few comics, the “shine in the eyes” detail only started with #186… again, in all characters except Marten. Is there a significant reason for this? Or is it just a detail that’s easier to do with the shades of color in people’s eyes except for Marten’s for whatever reason? I don’t have an answer, but it’s something to keep in mind at least while we watch the art evolve.

Also, one more thing?

Either Marten’s a liar, or Faye’s ass is just THAT good that it converted him. My money’s on the latter, considering people routinely talk about how baller Faye’s ass is.

Yes, I did just use the word “baller” unironically. No, I don’t have any shame, thanks for asking.

…payoff. 

And again with the fucking contraction thing… It’s not subtle if other characters are pointing it out! I know, I’m the only person willing to die on this hill, and I KNOW it’s long-passed and nobody’s concerned about it anymore, but it genuinely bothers me! This is a stupid character traits that… bah, I’m not going to repeat myself again. On a lighter note, this particular comic showcases how much better Jeph’s gotten at drawing faces. It’s not much, but it’s better than the stock expressions that most characters usually wear, and you can see some subtle actions and thoughts expressed in the way Dora or Faye’s eyebrows move, in which direction their eyes are facing… it’s nice stuff.

I won’t show everything in these next three comics, but I wanted to showcase this series of events at least because this is some good character writing that says a lot about both Steve and the new girl Jeph introduces.

Setup…

Payoff…

…and subversion of expectations.

Sorry Marten, but I’m with Steve here 100%. That was clever, well-played, and EXTREMELY hot all at once. It’s too bad we don’t end up seeing much of Ellen after this because she has SUCH a strong established introduction.

And what fortunate timing – we have another collection of guest comics, which ends RIGHT at #200:

And here we go – the spark of conflict in the relationship dynamic between Marten and Faye that I predicted we needed. How’s Faye going to deal with this? How’s Marten going to deal with this? What if on this date it turns out he’s actually, seriously interested in Dora? Would this push Faye to action? She’s made it clear, at least to the people around her, that she’s not interested in pursuing something with Marten… so what if someone made her put her money where her mouth is? Well, we’ll find out one way or another come the next batch of comics.

While we’re still talking about this batch however, let’s do our usual deal of comparing the art shift between the first and the last comics in the batch:

This is a clear-cut example of a lot of small, subtle tweaks happening over the course of a long enough period of time making a clear, distinct difference. The biggest change, of course, being the faces of everyone as I’ve been bringing up all throughout this post – everyone looks so much more EXPRESSIVE. You can get a proper read on someone’s mood based on just how they look alone now, and I find that super impressive… admittedly, it also makes me wish that Jeph could/would re-do the ice cream comic in this newer art style to properly capture the expression on Faye’s face that he wanted to capture, but you know. Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

So what did I think of this batch of comics so far? Personally, I think it’s the best batch yet – the best improvement in art, the most introduced on Faye’s character, the best sarcasm from Marten… a LOT was improved in this batch, and that deserves praise. I like where the plot is going, I want to know more about Faye, and I am hooked on the will they/won’t they story, especially with the newer developments in the complexities of their relationship web coming into play.

All that said, let’s take a look at the data analysis for this particular batch:

Marten: 34/50 – 68%

Faye: 33/50 – 66%

Dora: 12/50 – 24%

Amanda: 12/50 – 24%

Steve: 6/50 – 12%

Pintsize: 5/50 – 10%

Jimbo: 3/50 – 6%

Ellen: 3/50 – 6%

Turing: 1/50 – 2%

Grand Total:

Marten: 166/200 – 83%

Faye: 163/200 – 81.5%

Dora: 51/200 – 25.5%

Pintsize: 50/200 – 25%

Steve: 22/200 – 11%

Amanda: 12/200 – 6%

Sara: 7/200 – 3.5%

Jimbo: 5/200 – 2.5%

Turing: 4/200 – 2%

Raven: 3/200 – 1.5%

Ellen: 3/200 – 1.5%

Scott: 2/200 – 1%

Miéville: 1/200 – 0.5%

Ell: 1/200 – 0.5%

Do note that in this last batch, 12 of the 50 were non-canon guest comics, so I didn’t count any characters showing up in any of them. Either way, it looks like Amanda was in enough comics to create a barrier in the stats between main and major supporting characters and minor characters as far as amount of time they’ve shown up in the comic goes. I don’t know if anyone else finds that as interesting as I do, I just think it’s neat.

In any case, tune in next week for the exciting conclusion to the double-date story! And a trip to the hospital!

…the two things aren’t related, I swear. See you then.

[kierongillen]

On First Issues

I wrote this for my last newsletter, and figure it likely should be added to the tumblr, just it can be added to the Writer Advice tag. Anyway! Sign up to the newsletter for more of this kind of stuff, of course.

Mags Vissago on twitter asked what people's favourite issue ones were, which spiralled into a larger discussion of what makes a good issue 1. That I'm back in the world of Number Ones with the new projects kicking off meant I felt like throwing in my assorted spare change. Also, it was a good way to avoid work. The conversation spiralled a bit, and I thought it worth trying to pull some of this together in a chunk.

There will be a lot of obvious caveats in what follow. I would question anything and everything. What follows below is what I consider pretty solid advice, but pretty solid advice collapses into useless dogma is unexamined. This is just where my head is at presently. Now that I've put it down, I'll likely set it on fire.

Firstly – most of what follows is about writing about a comic which tends to be a standard 20 page unit, released sequentially in a regular release schedule. It doesn't apply to graphic novels. It doesn't apply to comics released irregularly. It doesn't apply to any other form that isn't comics. This is stuff which is warped because of the economic construct. It is also leaning towards what I'd call a pop comic. These are almost entirely genre comics of one form or another.

Issue 1s obsess many writers for various reasons, both good, bad and necessary. Part of it is simply because anyone working in a serial comics in the Anglophone American pamphlet model have more experience in writing issue 1s than any other issue number (“Last issue” isn't an issue number, pedants). So you spend more time proportionally working on them and thinking about them. Perhaps most tellingly, in the present Direct Market, your sales of the first issue are what establish the sales of the latter issues. If you can launch stronger, you have longer until the standard erosion of sales makes the book commercially unviable in singles (and so also gives longer to gain a trade readership which means that doesn't matter). “How effective the first issue is” isn't the only thing which effects sales, but it doesn't for hurt.

Even for books which find an audience in trades, it's worth noting that the number of books which are huge in trades are often books that also did well in singles. The single is many things, including an advertisement, and the more part of a conversation the single is, the more there is an awareness of the trade. The weirdest thing about WicDiv being a hit was how much easier it was to sell more copies of WicDiv. Its success kind of sold itself.

Anyway – in the conversation online, I argued that the best first issues tend to do two things, which I unhelpfully described as “First It” and “Second It.”

The First It is includes everything which I would describe as good writing (good writing, for comics, includes everything, not just the words – it's also art, design, etc). You introduce everything the reader needs to know about your book to have a fair understanding of it. The “Needs” is key. It's not the whole book, but certainly enough to give a reader a fair understanding. You show the sort of thing you do, and how you choose to do it. Obviously not everyone who ends up liking the book will like it (or vice versa), but generally speaking, you lay out who you are, as honestly as you can.

(Worth noting this also includes possibly alienating some readers. If they're going to burn out of a book, I'd argue its rude to string them along. I've never done this as aggressively as I did with my first comic, Phonogram, whose opening caption was so noxious to basically show the door to anyone who wasn't in for this level of nonsense. Why waste anyone's time, eh?)

A competent first issue working inside First It principles will introduce initial key characters, delineate them, their desires and the world they operate inside. In the style you do so, the readers will get an understanding of the book. Frankly, anything which you reveal when hyping the book is almost certainly inside the First It.

In short: most of First It is actually The Pitch – or rather, showing you can competently execute The Pitch.

(A common form of incompetence in Pop Comics writing is failing to do that, and you end the issue with less information delineated than you got from the solicits. I read a first issue in the last year, and found they'd printed the pithy series blurb on the back cover, none of which was explained to any degree in the comic I had just read.)

The Second It is where it gets tricky. This is more rarely pulled off, and also much more subjective, but it's also something that the vast majority of hit books have managed to do, which makes me suspect there's something powerful to at least consider.

The Second It is giving the reader something that wasn't in the pitch. This normally speaks to the actual truth of what the book actually is, or at least gives a sense of the book's direction. It can be a big huge genre twist, but it doesn't have to be that large. But it does have to be something.

(Or at least, it has to be something unless your core pitch is so unique, so magical, so entirely without precedent that you don't have to worry about any of this tawdry nonsense.)

There's a TV first episode which is often mentioned by other writers when talking about this. It's The SHIELD. Spoilers, obv. The show is about corrupt cops. We know this going in. Hell, you know that throughout the first episode, as it's delineated carefully (This is all First It stuff). However, in the final scene, the lead shoots another cop who's on his team. That's the Second It. It lets us know exactly how corrupt these cops are, and also immediately lets us know the direction of the series. For the genre it's working in, that's a strong opening.

A book that is competent with First It regularly fails to hit Second It in various ways, but there's two which I see a lot.

Firstly, the last page reveal is actually just the book's high concept. As in, what the reader already knew by how the book was described to them, or included in solicits. If it was Harry Potter, it'd be “You're a Wizard, Harry.” This means that a reader has paid $3-5 dollars to learn what they already knew. No matter how well executed, this tends to be a turn off. It's also a turn off which is 100% great writing if you were writing (say) a Novel. But there you aren't selling sequential units.

Secondly, the last page reveal is a big event which the reader simply doesn't care about. This is a failure born of the rest of the book, and shows well how First It and Second It aren't separate units. If you know the Second It is reliant on some emotional underpining, you need to make sure that is established. A classic example would be (say) a long absent relative turns up. If the issue has not spent sufficient time making the absence of the relative to your cast of absolute interest, that isn't going to land.

In Doctor Aphra 1, her Dad turns up into the end, and that's not set up at all in the issue. However, my hook was “her dad has turned up... and he's just fucked over Aphra.” The latter is the reveal of character about the former, and is the directional thrust. It's not about the existence of her father, but rather her father's character and what that means for Aphra.

Yes, you should be raising an eye on “Last page Reveal.” The commonality of “Last Page Reveal” in these books is another question, and a hint towards how this kind of writing has been codified. There's been a lot of people reverse engineering BKV, shall we say. “Reveal in final scene” may be a better way of thinking of it, and even that is too small for my liking.

To talk about WicDiv for a second, it's a complicated mess of a book, but our First It is establishing a bunch of the key mythology, vibe, style and two lead characters. The Two Lead Characters feed into the Second It – which is “A Judge is Murdered in the Middle the Court. Did Lucifer Do it?” That only even vaguely works because we spent the majority of the issue delineating Lucifer as much as we did Laura. The Second It for WicDiv was signalling this is a genre work with an actual plot, and not just ambling along Phonogram style. First It was “Here's our world” and Second It is “And here's where we're going next.”

You may be reading the above and thinking of it as a checklist. “Must make sure I have Two Its.” That would be a mistake. The two Its are an analytical tool. It's an editing principle when approaching your own material of what narrative unit makes a useful, accurate and compelling introduction to the story. In my case, it's looking at my story, recognising the point where First It (introduction to the book) and Second It (reason to continue reading book and hint at immediate direction) have been fulfilled to my satisfaction, and then writing and editing to ensure I include them both.

In the case of WicDiv, I looked at the story and thought “I have to get to the murder of the Judge.” I could have perhaps ended with Lucifer having just murdered the assassins who tried to kill her... but all that would have shown is “these pop star gods who claim to be gods have godly powers” and I said that in the hype. Perhaps I could have worked out a way to make that work if I played with the sympathy towards Lucifer differently, but that still felt like reiterating the pitch. The Death Of The Judge leading to a murder mystery was clear and direct. That's what I had to get to.

It's also worth noting that many of the most successful first issues (and some of the biggest hits of recent years) are longer than 20 pages. Y: The Last Man (which is a clockwork masterpiece of First-Issue-ness) was 28 pages. Saga is double issue size. Monstress was triple sized. For me, WicDiv was 30 comics pages. Spangly New Thing is 34. Longer issues both let you spend more time making sure First It is done well, and more time to push towards whatever beat you consider to be Second It.

(That's another reason why the Second It can come at the end of an issue. By definition, it's the point you were trying to reach. When you've reached it, you can stop.)

And as another side point, it's also worth remembering that How You Hype The Book can vary hugely. If I'd sold WicDiv as “Pop Stars who claim to be gods...” perhaps Lucifer having actual powers would have been enough for a Second It. I suspect not, because clearly me even posing the question is implicitly promising the reader the answer is “Yes.” That'd be like me selling an autobiography with “Does Kieron Gillen have magical powers?” and then showing across 300 pages that no, he's just a dude. But still: you get the point.

That's enough on this. It's interesting stuff to think about, because this is only a tiny fraction of it. If Issue 1 is everything that has to be in issue 1, what is Issue 2. Issue 1s are the hardest worked issues in a series, because you're preparing for so long, but Issue 2 are a special kind of heartbreaker.

I said it at the top, but all of this is also for a certain mode of comics. And not even all that certain mode for comics. The First Error I listed above? If a writer is figuring it's primarily a trade based book, and they feel it's not worth distorting issue 1 to serve the single, that could be a fine choice. I sometimes wonder if I'd have been better ending THREE's first issue with the Spartans turning up rather than the slaughter.

That's still a cliffhanger. You can go more extreme that that. When I launched WicDiv, and Warren and Jason Howard were launching Trees, I felt entirely ashamed having done this Pop Thrill Banger and Trees just cuts at the end of an issue and assumes you'll be back in month. It believed in a maturity in the audience and a willing to follow it wherever it went. That's something I find entirely admirable.

Point being: the above is only useful tools in so far as it aligns with your goals as a creator.

[zorosmoobs]

Zolu Fic Recs

Decided to do this bc someone asked me once and I actually went thru all the garbage on ao3 and read everything I thought would be worth reading. SO! Here you go. Cultivated by zorosmoobs.

heads up: all zolu fics I like and rec will always be free of incest, pedophilia/large age gaps, and zos/an! This means no A/SL ships, no c/oralaw or la/wlu, no z/orobin or na/mirobin or really robin/anyone that isn’t franky, or other assorted freakery (like kat/alu or cr/oclu....wtf is up with you people). I ALSO try to avoid fics w the r slur in them, so if I rec one that has it lmk! I prob didn’t reread close enough :{ 

Enjoy! Bolds are favorites, the little blurbs are my anecdotes. There aren’t many long or slow burn fics bc no one writes any -__- I’ll write one someday dw.

riptide by nevermordor (1/1, 7k words, G)

Zoro and Luffy go on a cute date it’s cute. Sanji is tolerable in this fic! And there’s fighting. It’s adorable. Actually I was obsessed w it

Blueberry and Honey by rchcc122 (1/1, 2.5k, G)

Zoro and Nami are mlm/wlw solidarity and it’s beautiful. Theres a smidge of zos/anry but it gets killed. ALSO NAMIVIVI which is blessed!

Climb This Mountain Inside by stiley (1/1, 722, G)

Short and cute cuddle fic bc I’m a sucker.

unspeakable love by gadgetronic (1/1, 8200, T)

I wrote this fic ;) It’s a really long character study I did on Zoro for zolu week day 2, sacrifice.

Sunny Day by somefangirl (1/1, 1k, G)

Your average Luffy wants to have fun and Zoro is sleeping but complies anyway fic. Gay naps ensue.

[EDIT: somefangirl has a TON of other great zolu fics as well! Just go to their author page]

Bleed Like an Idiot by Augment (1/1, 14k, M)

I’ve read this like 3 times but it’s so good....I don’t normally like Zoro eats a devil fruit fics but I think this fic explores some cool themes and is really good! AND LONG which zolu fics never are.

Your words keep me awake and sing me to sleep by Mellifluous Nebulous (1/1, 2k, G)

Bit of a silly premise abt Zoro having a nightmare but I thought it was cute. So it goes on the list.

Tell Me If It Came True by chibimono (1/1, 1k, G)

CUTE Shooting star fic. There’s some weaboo japanese in it but we’ve all been through worse. tw for underage drinking I spose

Little Pink Flowers by StrawhatsAndDelibirds (1/1, 1k, G)

Based on a comic linked in the notes of the fic. The comic AND the fic are both cute!!

This Is Everything by LupusAmator (1/1, 8k, T)

This fic has a bit of an odd/poetic style so if ur not into that idt you’ll like it. I also think I didn’t finish it BUT I remember liking the parts of it I did read! So! Zoro character study sorta. I personally liked the style (sort of stream of consciousness?) and it’s gay sooo

Stand By Me by thricepiercedpirate (1/1, 600, T)

Classic nightmare and comfort fic! Luffy has the nightmare this time. 

and i will learn for you by blueacorn (1/1, 2k, T)

GOD this fic fucks me up every time. Zoro-centric, sort of like a character study. Pretty short.

Gold-Tinted Days by needchocolatenow (1/1, 4k, T)

PURE ESSENCE OF ZOLU BLESSED FIC

Those Who Sink, Swim by whimsical_ramblings (1/1, 2.5k, G)

Zoro is an idiot the fic. Tries to save Luffy from drowning but his arm is broken

Morning Dove by Falkreath (1/1, 900, T)

Waking up and being gay.....very cute very wholesome

Sea and Stars by Stark_Black (1/1, 2.5k, M)

Fic that addresses Thriller Bark a bit and has some steamy stuff at the end. Not THAT explicit and it’s p brief but hey. Figured I needed at least one on this list.

Stolen Flowers by Zoete9 (1/1, 2k, T)

Funny prompt fic about Zoro thieving flowers from Luffy’s garden. The humor level is high I like it

Comfortable company by TJWrites (1/1, 3k, T)

Domestic fluff from heaven ft. exasperated Nami

mountain falls for the sea by gadgetronic (2/2, 1k, G)

This is my fic lol I wrote it ;) First chapter is a short cute thing about hand kisses, second chapter is a funny little humor story

[mysongfortheasking]

Disturbing Children’s Books

In her speech “Dare to Be Creative,” author Madeleine L’Engle starts off by referencing a question originally presented by TS Eliot: “Do I dare disturb the universe?” L’Engle admits that is a daunting and difficult question—do we dare disturb the universe? And how do we do that? She says: “I believe that good questions are more important than answers, and the best children’s books ask questions, and make the reader ask questions. And every new question is going to disturb someone’s universe.”

Children’s books, she says. Not grown up books. Not classic literature. Not self-help books or deep commentaries. Not ancient texts or old legends or myths or any other type of reading material. Children’s books. Something we (myself included) might be prone to dismiss.

I am currently working on my Master’s in English, and this summer, decided to take an online summer course. I chose “Picture Book” class because I thought, “How could a class focused solely on picture books be that hard?” (The answer, I discovered, is that it can be that hard when you cram an entire semester’s worth of work into a five-week express course. I made it, but I didn’t sleep much during the month of June.) Despite my lack of sleep and insane amount of coffee consumption during that time, the class changed my life. I could write an incredibly long and never-ending post about all I learned from that class or the valuable materials we received (which I might do at some point or another), but that’s not why I originally started this post. Today, I want to share some disturbing children’s books. But disturbing in a good way.

Since there are countless “disturbing” children’s books, I decided to just share four good ones I’ve recently read. I also decided to narrow it down to a “theme” for this post: these books are all focused on female empowerment. But just because I say, “female empowerment,” do NOT think these books are just for girls. These books are for everyone. These books will interrupt the mainstream narrative and say, “Hang on, let’s think about this.” These books that will make you ask questions. These books might tell you something you needed to hear—they might even make you say, “Wow I never thought about that.” These books will open your eyes, challenge your thinking, and speak to your soul. I’ve attached Amazon links to them all in case you think “Wow I need these in my life!” (Because I promise you, you will.) These books will certainly disturb your universe, if you allow them. Let the disruption begin.

1) MY Rules for Being a Pretty Princess written and illustrated by Heath McKenzie

The protagonist in this book is an unnamed little girl who “more than anything else in the whole wide world,” wants to be a pretty princess. Her wish comes true when a real princess arrives and tells her the rules of being a princess: wear a pretty dress, always have perfect hair and makeup, attend dainty tea parties, dance gracefully, and finally, wait (literally, just stand there and wait) for a handsome prince.

Our sweet little protagonist is quickly bored and uninterested in the rules of being a princess, so she makes her own. She decides that to be a princess, you simply have to be yourself. You wear FABULOUS (instead of uncomfortable) dresses. You have AMAZING (instead of “always perfect”) hair and makeup. You attend DELICIOUS instead of dainty parties. You simply dance, instead of always having to dance gracefully. And (my personal favorite part of the whole book) she scraps the rule about waiting on a prince entirely, and in a beautiful closing illustration, dresses up like a knight and becomes her own hero.

This book is a simple one only in the sense that it doesn’t have a lot of words. It’s more of a “comic-strip” style with pictures and speech bubbles. There isn’t a complicated plot or storyline, but despite being minimal in nature, this book is still radically “disturbing.” Even though I saw the name on the front cover, I didn’t think twice when I assumed a woman wrote the book for other young girls. When I finished the book and flipped to the blurb about the author on the back, I was surprised to see the photograph of male author Heath McKenzie, and even more pleased to read the explanation of why he created this book: “Before Ava [Heath’s daughter] was born and before he knew she’d be a little girl, Heath began wondering about what might happen if he had a daughter,” the blurb says. “He wanted to make sure she knew she could be anything she wanted to be when she grew up! Because she can!”

You could say that Heath wanted to “disturb the universe” on behalf of his little girl, and this book certainly does that. He wanted to tell his little girl something that ALL little girls (and honestly, all people) need to hear: “No matter what anyone says, YOU can be whatever you want.” And while there isn’t a complicated plot line in this story, the closing illustration subtly sends the message: “You don’t need saving and you don’t have to wait around for someone to come and get you—you can be your own hero.”

2) Dinosaur Expert written by Magaret McNamara and illustrated G. Brian Karas

This book is about Kimmy, a young girl who loves science, especially dinosaurs. She is excited to share all of her knowledge on a field trip to the dinosaur museum, but one of her classmates named Jake says, “Girls aren’t scientist.”

Kimmy sees all “boy names” in the list of accomplished paleontologists and gets discouraged. Maybe, she thinks, Jake is right—she shouldn’t talk anymore about dinosaurs because, after all, she is a girl. But when her teacher, Mr. Tiffin, shows her all the work done by female paleontologists, Kimmy realizes that Jake is all wrong: girls can be contributing scientists too.

While this book has a lot more words (there’s some big science words that even I struggled with), it teaches the same thing that Heath McKenzie wanted to show in his book: you can be anything. I love that they picked a “male dominated field” like paleontology to demonstrate this, but I think there’s also an extra layer in the use of dinosaurs. Dinosaurs are usually a “boy thing”—boys get to play with dino toys, boys get to watch Jurassic Park, and boys get to be paleontologists. But Mr. Tiffin helps Kimmy (and the readers of this book) realize that it isn’t a “boy-girl” thing: girls can love dinosaurs too. There’s also an extra “bonus” in the back of the book where Kimmy presents readers with seven different female paleontologists from all over the world and all different stages of life. (My personal favorite is Daisy Morris, a four-year-old who discovered the fossil of a new species of dinosaurs, which is now named “Vectidraco daisymorrisae” in her honor.)

There’s so much educational information about dinosaurs in this book, even I learned a lot from it that I never knew. Personally, I think this book is one that is most powerful, because it’s not only educational, but also shows children that science and dinosaurs and being accomplished isn’t just for one gender: anyone can love and do and be whatever they want to.

3) I Dissent: Ruth Bader Ginsberg Makes Her Mark written by Bebbie Levy and illustrated by Elizabeth Baddeley

This book is obviously a nonfiction biographical book about Ruth Bader Ginsberg’s life from childhood to present day. It’s illustrations are amazing, and it shows beautifully how Justice Ginsberg encountered lots of difficulties—social things like racism and sexism, but also things like the death of her mother and raising a family while going to law school and pursuing a career.

While it focuses a lot on the aspect of female empowerment, it really is a book about standing up for right and injustice in general too.

Even though it’s probably the wordiest of all the books I mention here, that is not at all a bad thing. It has a lot of historical information and even teaches children vocabulary (specifically the terms “dissent,” “concur,” “object,” “protest”—lots of legal and activist terms), and adults can easily find a way to communicate the ideas to young children. I read this to one of my students (a six-year-old girl), and I had to find ways to “shorten and simplify” it a bit for her attention span and understanding. But when I asked her what she learned from the book, she looked up at me, smiled and said through the gap in her mouth where her front teeth should be, “Girls can do ANYTHING.” So I’d say she got the point.

4) The Princess and the Pony written and illustrated by Kate Beaton

I go to the library literally every day for work, and a librarian approached me a few weeks ago and said, “Have you read The Princess and the Pony?” I am SO glad she suggested it, because it’s become one of my favorites.

The Princess and the Pony tells the story of Princess Pinecone, the smallest princess who wants desperately to be a big strong warrior. But Pinecone feels she is too “cute and cuddly.” “Warriors get fantastic birthday presents,” Beaton writes, “Things that make them feel like champions. Princess Pinecone got a lot of cozy sweaters. Warriors do not need cozy sweaters.” Pinecone tells EVERYONE she wants a strong warrior horse, but instead they give her a round little pony whose eyes sometimes look in two different directions, who eats things it shouldn’t, and farts way too much (not kidding, that’s in the book).

Pinecone tries hard to teach her pony to be a warrior horse, but the little horse just can’t quite get it; nevertheless, she enters a battle and hopes for the best. But instead of fighting and being “awful brutes,” the other warriors fall in love with Princess Pinecone’s cute little pony. They all stop fighting and gush over how cute the pony is. (My favorite is when Huge Harold, who also has eyes that sometimes look in two different directions, exclaims, “Aw, he looks a bit like me!”) When Pinecone says, “This is not how a battle usually goes!” another warrior responds, “You’re right, but we warriors don’t often get to show our cuddly sides.”

Pinecone realizes she can help them get in touch with their cute and cuddly sides, and all of the warriors work together and learn that being a strong warrior doesn’t mean you have to always be “very big and very tough.”

I love this book for a lot of reasons. First of all, this book is HILARIOUS. The illustrations are colorful and well-drawn and comical (especially the pony), and the details in the story itself are so funny. But I also love the subtle representation it offers. For example, Princess Pinecone’s parents are clearly drawn as an interracial couple: her mother has dark hair, skin, and eyes while her dad has light skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Pinecone herself is a mix of the two with dark eyes like her mother’s, blonde hair like her father’s, and skin that is a shade in between the two. The warriors themselves are all different shapes, sizes, and colors (in fact, in one illustration, there is a dark-skinned, female warrior in hijab subtly included in the fight). Even Harold’s little remark about how the pony “looks kinda like me” is representation—Harold sees a unique (not bad or funny, but unique) aspect of himself in a way perhaps he’s never seen himself before.

Another thing I love about this book is that unlike the princess in McKenzie’s book or Kimmy in Dinosaur Expert or even the great Ruth Bader Ginsberg herself encountered, there isn’t a clear outside force here: no one tells Pinecone she can’t be a warrior. Her parents support her completely, the warriors never question or make fun of her. The battle Pinecone struggles with is in herself. She thinks she is too small. She thinks she is too “cute and cuddly.” She thinks warriors don’t have the things she has, like cozy sweaters and fat ponies. She thinks these things make her weak. The struggle in Pinecone being a warrior is not one with the world outside of her: it’s an internal struggle with her own self-doubts.

Thankfully, Pinecone learns that warriors don’t have to be what she thinks. And, the other warriors learn this too. They all think that warriors have to be “a bunch of brutes,” as Beaton describes them. They (Pinecone included) think warriors have be tough and rough and always fight in some type of battle. But through Princess Pinecone’s silly little pony, warriors learn they can be cute and cuddly. Warriors can love cozy sweater and chubby ponies. Warriors can be small or big, male or female, and can appear rough or cute. And while I genuinely don’t believe there’s such thing as “girl and boy books” (all books are honestly for everyone), I do think another thing this book is especially good for disturbing the universe of toxic masculinity. It shows that to be strong, you don’t have to be a big tough brute who always fights angrily. It shows that it’s okay to be a warrior and be in touch with your “cuddly side.” It’s okay to wear a cozy sweater. It’s okay to gush over something that’s cute. It’s okay to feel. Through a story about a tiny princess and a farting pony, Beaton illustrates that being a warrior isn’t about your gender or your size or how many battles you partake in: it’s really just about being strong and accepting yourself just the way you are. And that’s a message that everyone needs to hear.

All of these books disturb the universe. These books make readers ask good questions. They cause readers to reevaluate their own ideas and the narrative around them. And they do it as children books. McKenzie’s sweet little princess helps us realize, “Hey, I don’t have to follow a set of rules and be perfect.” We learn along with Kimmy that girls can be scientists too (or whatever else they want). I Dissent shows that there is power in standing up to injustice and teaches toothless first graders “Girls can do ANYTHING.” And The Princess and the Pony shows that there is strength in both the tough and the tender. As I said earlier, these aren’t books just for children. These are messages and themes we all need to hear. All of us, regardless of our age, race, or gender should read these books and allow them to disturb our universe.

[lgbt-ya]

Dreadnought and Sovereign - the Nemesis series

Published by Diversion books on 26th July 2017

Genres: superheroes, trans, young adult, fantasy, LGBT

Goodreads | Amazon UK | Amazon US | Book Depository | Barnes & Noble

Blurb: Danny Tozer has a problem: she just inherited the powers of Dreadnought, the world’s greatest superhero.Until Dreadnought fell out of the sky and died right in front of her, Danny was trying to keep people from finding out she’s transgender. But before he expired, Dreadnought passed his mantle to her, and those secondhand superpowers transformed Danny’s body into what she’s always thought it should be. Now there’s no hiding that she’s a girl. 

It should be the happiest time of her life, but Danny’s first weeks finally living in a body that fits her are more difficult and complicated than she could have imagined. Between her father’s dangerous obsession with “curing” her girlhood, her best friend suddenly acting like he’s entitled to date her, and her fellow superheroes arguing over her place in their ranks, Danny feels like she’s in over her head.

She doesn’t have much time to adjust. Dreadnought’s murderer—a cyborg named Utopia—still haunts the streets of New Port City, threatening destruction. If Danny can’t sort through the confusion of coming out, master her powers, and stop Utopia in time, humanity faces extinction.

Interview with the author, April Daniels:

Hi, welcome to LGBT YA! Could you start by introducing us to the world of the Nemesis series?

Hello! I’d be glad to. The Nemesis series (Dreadnought, out in January, and Sovereign, out later this month) mainly takes place in New Port City, a metropolis that is described in a lot of my initial project notes as Not-Seattle. It’s a major American city in Northwest Washington on Puget Sound, but unlike its real-world counterpart it was the dominant population center on the west coast for much of the 20th century, which means it is both larger and more heavily urbanized than any real-world city in the Pacific Northwest. Seattle might exist as a small suburb, but it hasn’t appeared in the books. 

Approximately seventy years prior to the start of the series, a new wave of increasingly powerful super-humans appeared in the world stage. Superheroes and vigilantes are a part of everyday life, albeit one that most people don’t have much experience with.

This is the environment our narrator, teenage trans girl Danielle Tozer finds herself growing up in, and she is something of a superhero fangirl. When Dreadnought, the greatest hero in the world, gets shot out of the sky in front of her and she inherits his powers, Danielle’s body is changed to be what she always wanted it to be, and suddenly there’s no hiding that she’s a girl. On top of that she quickly learns that the world of professional superheroes is far less welcoming than she had hoped. I tried to ride the line between bleak cynicism in the flawed institutional design of the superhero laws and the optimistic sincerity of some of the heroes trying to work within a broken system. 

I wanted to create the feeling of a DC or Marvel style comic book universe with decades of history that shapes the present, but without the impenetrable continuity snarls and obscure back-story that characterize a lot of the output of the Big Two. 

Who is your favourite character in your books? What advice would you give them?

Calamity is an absolute blast to write, but she should learn to duck. How much of Dreadnought is inspired by your own experiences (excluding the magic!)?

A lot of the stuff relating to being trans, especially the description of dysphoria, are taken from my own life. The emotional damage that results from abuse is from my experiences as well, although the format of the abuse I endured was considerably different than the one Danielle confronts in Dreadnought. 

Dreadnought was your first published novel. What was the publication process like for you? 

I went to school to become a writer, enrolling in one of the few undergrad creative writing programs in the country at UC Santa Cruz. I thought I’d be published shortly after graduating, but it took nine years and I was homeless for some of that. Don’t do this to get rich.

When I finally had a manuscript I knew I could sell, I started querying agents. Querytracker.net is where you want to start that process. It’s long and stressful and difficult but eventually an agent said yes and we got to move on to the next stressful wait, but this time I had an agent doing the hard part. That’s when things started to feel a little real.

I was lucky in that we got an offer in our first round of submissions. We landed with Diversion Books, a smaller publisher, and working together my editors and I put the manuscript into publishable shape. 

Then there was a lot more waiting, and nerves and anxiety and then one day I was published and it sort of took me by surprise. At first it was sort of just another data point: okay, milestone passed, on to the next one. About 24 hours later I had a breakdown sob-laugh-cry fit for about an hour.

And that’s the publishing process. 

What are some of your favourite diverse SFF books?

Right now, I’m really into Martha Wells’ work, which often deals with protagonists who clearly have some kind of significant trauma in their pasts. This isn’t a sort of character background that’s marketed as diversity, but in the sense of being literature that helps someone recognize themselves and feel a little more complete, a little better able to face the day, then her work certain falls under the umbrella of diverse SFF books. Books that I really, really needed this year.  

Do you think diversity is a trend in publishing? What would you, as a trans reader, like to see more of in the future of publishing?

I think diversity has been a trend for a while, and we’ve been seeing the limits of that approach for some time now. The common pattern, historically, is that authors who did not have any personal experience with a particular kind of marginalization would read two or three books, decide they were an expert, and then write a book about The Trans Experience or whatever. This would only be annoying if it stopped there, but it can do real harm by perpetuating stereotypes and blocking marginalized authors out of the market. That’s where not thinking too deeply about diversity gets you; nothing actually changes, except the wallpaper.

Things are looking up, though. I don’t expect that this will never happen again, but I do think people are starting to move toward the understanding that if you want to read a book about a trans person, you should read a book by a trans person. The own-voices movement is one I’m a huge fan of. I think that’s probably the right strategy for where we are at the moment.

Obviously this doesn’t mean authors can’t write characters who are unlike themselves; it means authors shouldn’t claim to speak for others. 

Nobody can speak for us as well as we can speak for ourselves, and that’s true no matter who you are, unless you’re in politics. Publishers should to worry less about diversity in books, and more about diversifying the people whose work gets accepted for publication and promoted. The solution will need to start at home, so this will mean diversifying their own staffs as well. 

What advice would you give to authors who are planning to include a trans character in their next works?

It’s not too difficult, I don’t think. Don’t describe their bodies in a way that’s any more detailed or lurid than you would a cisgender body. Give them personality features aside from being trans. Don’t get cute with pronouns, don’t do a “surprising reveal”, and don’t kill them. Pretend we’re people and you can’t go too far wrong.

What are you writing next?

Can’t say, but past experience suggests people will like it. 

Finally, what’s your favourite conspiracy theory?

The best conspiracy theory is the one that NASA killed JFK to keep him from telling Khrushchev about the alien castles on the Moon. The book you want to read is called Dark Mission by Richard Hoagland and it is the most batshit story you will ever hear. 

From the Masonic ritual allegedly conducted shortly after the Eagle landed in the Sea of Tranquillity to the crank-a-licious numerology chapter, this book has it all, and also grainy photographs reputed to be of kilometres-tall crystal structures on the Moon. A perfect blend of kitschy Americana and paranoid hallucinations, this book has my highest recommendation for conspiracy fans of all sorts. 

Thank you for asking.

April Daniels was born in a military hospital just before it was shut down for chronic malpractice—in hindsight, that should have been an omen. After various tribulations in childhood and the frankly disconcerting discovery that she was a girl, she graduated from UC Santa Cruz with a degree in literature, and then promptly lost her job during the 2008 stock crash and recession. After she recovered from homelessness, she completed her first manuscript by scribbling a few sentences at a time between calls while working in the customer support department for a well-known video game console. This book was mainly porn, with a few swordfights included for variety. When April realized she couldn’t pitch her book without blushing, she decided to write something else. During yet another period of unemployment, she wrote Dreadnought.

She has a number of hobbies, most of which are boring and predictable. As nostalgia for the 1990s comes into its full bloom, she has become ever more convinced that she was born two or three years too late and missed all the good stuff the first time around. Having recently become a pagan, April is currently enduring the karmic backlash for all the times she was smug about her atheism.

Early in her writing practice, April set her narrative defaults to “lots of lesbians” and never looked back.

Follow April on tumblr at @msaprildaniels

[jam2289]

Leading a Writing Group - Session 1

It's an odd story, how I came to be part of a writing group yesterday.

I went to the Muskegon Comic Con event in the spring. It was fun. I walked into the game room and was greeted by a perky woman named Holly. She convinced me to join a one-off Dungeons and Dragons role-playing game. It's an activity that has always seemed fun, but I've never found the time to participate in that world.

I invited a few people and a couple of kids joined in. Yuke led our session while also managing the gaming sales table. It was a grand adventure that took us deep into a cave looking for buried treasure. Three of the five people came out alive. One girl was able to snatch some of the gold from us, but Xavier and I were able to get most of it. Xavier turned out to be Holly's son.

While talking to Holly after the game she mentioned that she runs a homeschool group that uses the Muskegon Fab Lab, where people can work with 3-D printers, laser etching, virtual reality systems, and more. I wanted to look into it because my niece Eevee and my friend's kid Oliver are both almost two and a half years old. They are getting to that stage where they can start doing more organized and constructive things.

I invited Doug, Oliver's father, to join me and check it out on a Thursday. Doug ended up having a tooth infection and had to go to the dentist. It seems like it would be kind of odd to go to a homeschool group by myself without kids, and having no kids myself, but I did it anyway. It was fun. I ended up helping Bella for a couple of hours with problem solving parts of a virtual reality game. Bella turned out to be Holly's daughter. (The virtual reality game also messed up my neck a bit because you're always looking around and moving your neck and I have neck deformities. It effected me for a few days.)

It's a bit too advanced for Eevee and Oliver, they still need a few years yet before the Fab Lab will be useful. But, since it had been fun the week before, and I was curious about the program, I decided to go the next Thursday. Then, it just became my normal routine. There are a lot of intelligent and interesting people that the group attracts so I've had a lot of engaging conversations.

Since I do writing and speaking it was brought up at some point that I might lead a writing or public speaking class. Slowly, the idea started coming together. Holly didn't want to start the group right away because her mother was coming to town and she wanted the family to spend time together. I was able to meet Holly's mother and we had some great discussions about literature and more during that time.

I also had a concern. I didn't want to start the class full of kids. Starting a class with 10, or even 5, kids on the first day is difficult. You have to explain how things are going to work, what the goals are, what your basic philosophy and approach are, how to treat each other, etc. You are essentially establishing a mini-culture. Once the culture is established it's easier to integrate people into it as compared to growing a culture from scratch.

I had just watched Paul do this with the art class that he runs. Paul is an interesting guy with a wealth of experience in art, but organizing a bunch of kids at the same time on day one is like, well... herding kids. My plan was to start out with a few kids. Once that is going well then I'll add more kids to the class one or two at a time. Or, the other option, is that I can have some separate classes too. Here's part of the first email that I sent to Holly about the group.

- - - - - - -

I was thinking about writing a little blurb about the writing group. But, I don't know if you want that yet, and I'm not sure who it's for. So, in a basic sense:

In writing, one of the keys is finding a balance between following the norms that allow for shared communication, and finding your own voice. The process of melding these two things into a coherent whole has to be organic, and it has to be an exploration. For this to work you have to base the work on a foundation of interest. Once you have interest then the next ingredient is putting emphasis on effort rather than performance, as performance will be the natural end result of effort applied to an area of interest over time.

That is the basic idea, but don't use that because it's horrible. I'll write something else when we need it. If we need something detailed then I'll pull from the work of these psychologists: Lev Vygotsky, Jerome Bruner, Jean Piaget, Harry Stack Sullivan, Carol Dweck, and Carl Rogers.

The group will be doing fiction writing. There are several reasons for that: it will transfer over to non-fiction, there is more freedom of expression, there's no need for research, etc.

Also, what I think would work best is to do lightly directed group writing activities, readings, and light feedback from the group focused on being almost exclusively positive. Then, if and when critical or more detailed work is needed that can be handled in separate one-on-one sessions.

- - - - - - -

In the end the writing group started yesterday with Holly's three children. I wanted to use an open and general story prompt idea to see what would happen. To hear what the kids were able to come up with and how they would naturally prefer to generate a story. A blue dragon egg, that was the prompt. I explained that writing like this has to spring from a place within you that no one fully understands. You have to feel your way forward. And, the point of the writing group is to make a place where we can play and fail. To try things, test things, and be surprised by our own ideas. If you make something awesome, that's great. If you make something horrible, that's fine. It's just about getting better at generating and communicating narrative structures with style.

Narrative structures are the foundation of human society and psychology.

I had no idea what to expect. I think the kids had a little hesitation at first in their writing while they tried to think about what they should write. It's a different way of thinking, making stories. After the 20 minutes were up I asked if anyone wanted to read their story first, there were no volunteers. Which I figured would probably happen. It's a scary thing sharing something that you've made. You don't know if other people are going to understand it, you don't know if other people are going to like it. I did explain that judging art is a bit like judging ice cream. I've written some philosophy articles on that idea. Here's one: http://www.jeffreyalexandermartin.com/2019/04/flavor-and-value.html

I'll put my story here first, then I'll talk about what the kids came up with.

- - - - - - -

Once upon a time there was an eagle. This eagle was a great eagle, an old eagle, a kind eagle.

One day the eagle was flying back to its nest after having failed to catch anything after a full day of hunting.

The eagle was tired, and lonely, and hungry.

As the eagle was flying towards the nest it saw something, it saw something odd. It looked like there was something blue in the nest.

"Probably a blue jay," thought the eagle. The eagle hated blue jays. When it got there it would hunt that blue jay down and slay him for having the gall to take someone else's nest.

But, as the eagle flew closer it could see that it wasn't a blue jay. It looked like an egg. But, it couldn't be an egg. How would an egg get into the eagle's nest?

When the eagle landed on the edge of the nest it still hadn't decided what to do with this darn egg.

It could just push it out of the nest. That's where it should be, somewhere else, anywhere else.

But, the eagle was curious what type of bird this egg was. It was larger than an eagle egg.

The eagle decided that the egg would stay. When the eagle pushed the egg to the side of the nest to lay next to it the egg was warm, maybe even hot.

Eleven days later and the eagle had still been struggling with hunting, but the nest seemed less lonely with the egg there.

When the eagle returned later that day there was a crack in the egg. Over the next two minutes the crack grew. Then the top started to break off.

The eagle was curious. What type of bird would come out?

To the eagle's horror the nose that poked out didn't have a beak. Is it a deformed bird?

No! It has teeth. The head slowly emerged and it was more like a snake or an alligator than a bird.

The eagle and the baby dragon stared at each other.

- - - - - - -

And that's 20 minutes of writing. There are so many things that could be edited and changed in that story that it kind of amazes me that it comes across as decent. There are some great things too, like when in the fifth to third last sentences I switch from past tense to present tense and it works. Stuff like that shows you how much the rules often don't matter. The goal is to communicate a good story, and any means that leads to that end is good. It's important to have shared rules so that we can communicate. It's also important to realize that the rules are there to help us communicate, and when they hinder communication they are wrong.

I was hoping that my weird story would loosen up the kids' sense of apprehension at sharing their stories. An important piece of the group is to read your story and realize that it's not horrible, to hear how people react, to have people affirm and approve of what you've done so that you can continue to press forward and develop your talents.

Xavier was the first to share. He wrote a small intro in the format of a captain's log about an expedition in Antarctica. It was pretty good and we were able to talk about epistolary stories, or stories told through writings and recordings from the fictional setting.

Lex and Bella did rock, paper, scissors to decide who would go next. There was some controversy over Bella's hand technique, but in the end I ruled that Lex had lost and she was next.

Lex had an interesting idea about a half-dragon, half-chicken that was going on a quest. It sounded a lot like a fairy tale, which I like, but it also seemed kind of like it was leading to a version of modern science fiction. It was good.

Bella was the last to go. She's still working out the technical skills of spelling, punctuation, and grammar. That's not what the group is about, it's about creating and communicating narratives. With some help she read her story and it was about a dragon prince that had been banished from his home and was now being caught up in a war. And, he didn't know he was a prince. It was a solid idea that seemed to be along great classical lines of fantasy.

After each story we said a few things that we liked and/or associated with it. Then I asked if anyone had any questions about anything. Now, everyone assumes that it has to be about what we've talked about in that session, and we mentioned a lot of things. We even hit on how frame stories are structured with stories inside of stories. But, I said "anything," and I meant it.

Kids often don't seem to believe me when I say they can ask me anything. That's common when I'm teaching Chinese kids online too. But, some of them catch on fast and realize that I do mean anything.

Bella, the eight-year-old, (of course it's the eight-year-old) asked about grand mythological narrative structures. I explained how different societies had handled the ideas of transcendence and immanence in primordial entities. At that point everyone realized that they could ask anything and we had a few more good questions. Especially when you're talking about narratives, everything is a possible subject.

I ended up hanging out afterward for quite awhile and Bella recruited me to be a model so that she could do a portrait. It came out well.

Bella and Lex wanted me to say how my story would have continued. I went into a few lines about the baby dragon breathing fire into the face of the eagle, the eagle sucking the fire into its lungs and plummeting from the nest toward the ground. They didn't like the idea of a tragic ending, and I believe it was Lex that came up with a great alternative. What if the eagle was really a phoenix? Then it falls to the ground on fire. It burns into a pile of ash, and from the small pile of ash a baby phoenix is reborn. It's a great twist.

It was an excellent first session, and I have high hopes for the future.

________________________________________________

You can find more of what I'm doing at http://www.JeffreyAlexanderMartin.com

[frostironreversebang-blog]

Claims are now CLOSED

If you are unsure how this works, please read this post on how to claim. The blurbs are under the cut to make things easier on your dash. If you can’t read them on our tumblr, click here for the plain HTML page

All the arts have been claimed! Rejoice!!

Entry #1

Tony is an omega, who has always wanted to bond only with the very best, he refuses to settle for anything else. When he sees Loki's alpha side his inner omega swoons and the more he sees, the more head over heels in love he falls and wants him, because this alpha, Loki, is everything he always wanted. But Loki's not interested. So, obviously, Tony tries to convince him. Wooing, courting, plans, flirting, touching, clinging, seducing, letting his omeganess show, he tries absolutely everything he can think of. Still, he get's a no. Then one day, Tony wakes up to find Loki spooning him, he tells Tony that he said no because the human's lifespan is too short, that if he bonds with someone he wants it to last for all eternity, asking if he's serious about them bonding, because then he will offers Tony an golden apple and make him his forever... 

The drawing is of them spooning. I might draw another picture with Tony’s tries of courting.

Entry #2

Fantasy RPG AU where Avengers is a team of mercenaries in a need of a mage for the next quest. But none of their usual candidates are available at the moment, so Thor mentions that his brother Loki is a very powerful battle mage. The problem is Loki’s spiteful personality; besides he is a little too good in dark arts. Tony doesn’t care at first, he tends to find mages boring, but Loki proves to be different…

Pic description:  Loki is going to fight someone with his staff and spells while Tony in his full armor stands nearby and enjoys the view.

Entry #3

Modern AU where Tony is still the famous billionaire but one of his rivals have sent an assassin (Loki) after him, except well that didn't quite work. Ok so no set fic summary yet but how about a description of one of the arts? So Loki's at the door because he's leaving Tony and he won't tell why. And Tony, who's not understanding what's going on except that Loki is leaving (why is Loki leaving?!?) is on the floor begging Loki to stay, to make sense, to just turn around and talk to him for one hot second.

Entry #4

There's no concrete plot here, just some vague ideas, so the plotting and worldbuilding is up to the writer. 

Iron Man gets sent as an envoy to Jotunheim, or he's curious about the barbarian world that Thor describes and wants to see for himself, sceptical of the Aesir description of it... And he comes across Loki, who's either the prince or Loki who was adopted Loki, and is doing penance for the almost genocide.... And somehow - either the armour fails because ~handwave science~ that Tony couldn't account for, or Loki magical it off him .... Anyway, he's seen as a threat by Loki here.

Entry #5

Au where Loki never messes up Thor's coronation. Loki instead flees from Asgard after he finds out the truth of his heritage and finds a place in Midgard. Loki builds up his own franchise that soon rivals Stark Industries. Tony is intrigued by the owner of an uprising business and plans a merger. Loki and Tony combine their businesses and practically run the world. Thor gets corrupt with power, kills Laufey, and goes after the next king which happens to be Loki. My draft art is what I want the end result to be, a family between the two. (I know background is raggedy, pushing for time)Kinda in between iron man 1 and 2.

Entry #6

The art shows Loki doing some involved magic while kneeling, while Tony stands guard. There's no story to go with this, so knock yourself out, author!

Entry #7

Loki travels the Hidden Pathways/The Branches first to escape his brother’s shadow and later to deal with being on the run in plain sight (impersonating Odin). He meets Tony, or a version of him in time, who’s ended up there in his sleep on accident. At first, younger Loki thinks it’s just a weird coincidence but it keeps happening over the years. Eventually he accepts it as A Thing, then starts to enjoy it, and gets curious enough to investigate. It’s all weird dream time travel shenanigans to Tony. 

The story should feature magical/science fiction-y time travel and slow burn.

There will be at least two digital drawings/paintings, one of them of younger (pre-first Thor movie) Loki and pre-ironman Tony meeting on the branches and one of older (been ironman for a while now) Tony sleeping.

Entry #8

It's the first day of the Paris World Exposition in 1889. Tony, a promising young inventor, has just arrived in the city to participate in a flying contest - and by pure chance he happens to witness a young man performing as a magician at the local circus. Befuddled by the skills he displays and convinced that no such thing as 'magic' can possibly exist, he tries to befriend him and convince him to give up his 'secrets' - but the young man, Loki, seems immune to his charms. Suddenly, their meeting is interrupted when five strange people dressed as warriors appear and try to kidnap Loki, apparently determined to gain possession of his pendant. What mystery lies behind the small blue gem that Loki has been carrying with him since childhood?

(Basically the 'Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water' AU that I can't believe doesn't already exist in this fandom.)

I'd like to draw two pics for the story; one will show Tony and Loki in the process of escaping their 'enemies' on Tony's plane. The other… is still pending, as I'd like to see where my author wishes to take the story first. :D

Entry #9

Everyone is born with their soulmates name on their wrist. Finding them was nevertheless not that easy. On Earth there were matching agencies to help find them, which worked for some, but not all. Tony never even bothered registering in the first place, the name on his wrist was an indecipherable mess, matching no language known on earth. Meaning he was simply broken, doomed to be alone and had no soulmate, or his mate was an alien… which yeah, either sucked in their own way. Loki on the other hand was obsessed with looking for his soulmate, his Anthony, the one person who would accept, respect and love him for sure, just like he always longed for.  Picture is put together in three parts, kinda comic style, showing Loki and Tony's faces in the first two and in the third holding hands with the names showing on their wrists. 

Entry #10

Thor Movie AU. What if not only Thor was banished to Midgard? What if Odin decided to punish them all and cast out Loki too? And while Jane still found Thor, Loki landed somewhere else and was found by Tony. Things would have turned out way different for sure. 

Draw is of Loki being cast out and falling.

Entry #11

Loki shows up uninvited to Tony's housewarming party with a hateful bouquet of flowers. It's a party that only a few of Tony's friends have been invited to.

There will be one painting, a mix of traditional and digital art, where Loki is holding the flowers.

Entry #12

At the end of Thor: The Dark World, Thor thinks Loki is dead and he’s heading back to Earth, what if he spends some time with the Avengers in the following weeks then? Being depressed. After questioning him, Thor tells them what happened. In his eyes Loki redeemed himself so he won't take any bad comment from them. In the following months spending time with the Avengers he let's comments and stories slip about Loki and while at first they were uncomfortable with it and said nothing, after a few weeks they encouraged Thor to tell them things for various reasons. Thing is, the more Tony hears the more he's crushing on the guy, a dead guy, how insane is that? Then one day after spending some time in Asgard, Thor comes back carrying an unconscious and badly hurt Loki in his arms. Apparently he was not dead and Thor found him like this. Needless to say, Tony is the only one to eagerly help right away. 

Drawing is of Thor carrying Loki bridal style. Not even close to done yet, but it's going to be bloody.

Entry #13

Offering someone mortal an golden apple, wasn’t just offering them immortality, it was synonymous with asking them to spend eternity together, which was basically a marriage proposal and a question to become a family in one go. Which yeah, someone should have told Tony that. Loki totally failed to mention it, thinking it was common knowledge. Tony just thought that it was a weird gift of art decoration. It was a fucking golden apple, it didn't look like something to eat, he wasn't all that informed or interested into myths, how was he supposed to know that having the apple sit prettily on his desk and not eating it just showed a painful and long indecision akin to rejection to everyone who knew what the offering of an golden apple actually meant? 

Drawing is of Loki presenting the apple to Tony. I plan to draw another picture with the golden apple sitting on Tony's desk or somewhere in his workplace too.

Entry #14

Smartass Family AU. Loki and Tony have an established relationship and Peter Parker is their son, including Spider-Man powers and all. The picture shows them just hanging around in the kitchen together (some of them quite literally). The story is up to the author. No story at all and just domestic daily life is absolutely fine as well :D

Entry #15

"Tony and Loki have a secret relationship, and are quite happy like that. They also both sometimes like to have some kinky BDSM sex. When Steve hears screaming and bursts into the room, only to see Tony being tied up and in pain, he assumes the worst. Steve tries to defend Tony, and things escalate. How can Loki come back from that?

To me, this idea is less about the porn than about the misunderstandings, secret relationship, the hurt/comfort aspect, and generally the feels. (So if you only want to write implied porn/fade in, that's fine with me :) )

Pic: Loki in the foreground, naked but with a dagger, while Tony is tied up on the bed and Steve is behind him, looking shocked. (I'm not quite up to posting too explicit stuff, so the picture cuts off at the right places ;) )"

Entry #16

Grey Scale with red as the only pop of color. Loki draped in a plain chair, wearing nothing but heels and dark briefs, holding the leash attracted to Tony’s collar. Tony in similar briefs and a custom collar that exactly matches Loki’s shoes. And pulling the whole thing off with a Ta-Dah gesture and cheeky grin… While all of New York is spread out below them. There is a prompt available if desired. 

There is currently only one picture, but possibly another of a SFW-ish nature might be possible if there is something in the story that would make a good one. Would prefer consensual, minimal gore and happy endings.   

Entry #17

Your general coffeshop!AU, where Tony is, well, Tony, an extremely annoying customer coming up with the most ridiculous orders mostly just to spite Loki, who did nothing (but not really) to deserve all this and has to put up with Tony's shit. Oh, they also might or might not be friends with benefits, not that it changes anything.

Entry #18

Wanda’s powers get stronger and she can’t really control them anymore. They need someone who can teach her, a sorcerer would be best. But there is no one on earth that can help and there either are not many mages on Asgard or they are too weak to help. So after it gets worse and Wanda completely loses control, Thor decides to take Loki out of prison and bring him to earth to let him teach her. Which he does. To the surprise and horror of everyone. But it works. Thing is, after spending a bit of time with Loki and watching them do their magic thing, Tony falls hard and fast for Loki and starts to get jealous when Loki’s attention is solely on Wanda. So, he asks Loki to teach him magic too, anything to get Loki to look at him and hopefully getting him to reciprocate his feelings in the long run too. 

 The drawing is of Loki and Tony sitting on the floor practicing magic. Or more like Tony staring at Loki doing magic and failing himself. 

Entry #19

There isn't much to say, to be honest. I've got this idea of a drawing from a long, long time-- and now, hooray! I finally managed to put it into works! I came up with this visual (even if slightly different, at first) by listening to a song. I guess it was from one of those Frostiron mixes that, at the time, were everywhere (I kinda loved them, I think I've saved a couple of them as well, somewhere) 

Anyway. Seeing and then trying to cope with UnC*vil Whatever made finally up my mind about this drawing. Something where Tony at least looks happy and/or relaxed. In the very first idea, Loki wasn't even there. Then he just came in, and I couldn't say no to him :D 

Entry #20

The Avengers have a magic wielding villain on their hands, it gives them problems, because the best way to defeat magic is magic itself. Which they don't have. So when the villain does something that really threatens a city and lots of people, they need someone who is a skilled sorcerer to stop it. There either aren’t that many mages in Asgard or they just need the very best or a real powerful one, which yeah, that’s Loki currently rotting in his Asgardian prison. So Thor gets him out, brings him to Midgard, in chains and muzzled, wanting Loki to help out… which surprisingly the latter actually does. But what is even more surprising, is when afterwards Tony wants to keep him, not only because he would be an asset for the team, or because he’s terribly curious about magic, even if that does factor in a lot, but well, he has his personal reasons that count the most. Besides, no one touches his stuff, which yup, he pretty damn fast saw Loki as his and was pissed off enough already that Thor took Loki away in the first place, because again: Loki was his. 

Picture is of Loki muzzled... so far, planning to add chains and Thor next to him, maybe Tony and the others on the opposite side too.

Entry #21

Role reversal AU. Loki is a successful engineer, his company is well administered by his old friend Pepper, the Avengers are well liked by the general public and no one is trying to kill him. He could even believe he got a bit of good karma in his account. Except now Thor’s brother-in-law is on his balcony, being obnoxious and asking for a drink. And no matter how attractive or familiar the guy is, if he open his mouth again, he’s gonna be defenestrated.

The pic(s):

+ In Loki’s workshop, Tony shows his magic for a awestruck Loki, with Tony looking fondly to Loki and a lot of scans runs in the background.

+ A little comic strip of Tony arriving suddenly and freaking Loki out.

Entry #22

Pre Thor 1, during Iron Man 1. Kinda Reverse Role thing, where Loki is still loyal to Asgard while Tony as Iron Man is on a rampage to destroy warfare and terrorism after no one takes him seriously when he comes back from Afghanistan. Loki is part of the team to stop him.

The art shows Tony ready to blow something up with his repulsor while Loki clings to his back and grabs his wrist.

Entry #23

Due to their longevity, they take being in love really seriously. When a relationship gets serious in their eyes, when they can imagine being with that person for eternity, they stop even looking at other people, they take everything into being with just that one person, to be together forever. So it’s natural for Loki to feel like shit every time he sees Tony flirt playfully with someone else, not getting that it’s just fun for Tony and nothing more, thinking Tony does not take their relationship seriously, doesn’t want to spend their life together. And that hurts, really hurts, badly. It’s destroying him from the inside, but he says nothing. Just gets more and more depressed over time. And Tony sees that, but doesn't get why. Surprisingly, it’s Thor of all people, who after nearly strangling Tony for hurting his brother, clears that misunderstanding up.

Drawing is of Tony and Loki sitting together, Loki looking very depressed, Tony worried.

Entry #24

A lot of races are pregnant for a very long time compared to Midgardian pregnancies. But with a long pregnancy, the first few months are crucial, it leaves them very vulnerable and a lot miscarry. So when Loki notices that Tony knocked him up, he’s not saying anything about it, wants to see if he gets through these critical months first. Tony on the other hand is a constant bundle of worry, Loki is sick all the time, having regular fainting spells that freak him out, Loki even got so weak that the last time Thor hit him playfully on his shoulder it actually got him to stumble and show bruises for a few days, when it normally wouldn’t even move him one inch. Tony was sure Loki was so ill that he would die on him soon. Imagine his surprise when he wakes up one day to Loki grinning happily at him and telling him he's pregnant. Good thing that a pregnancy of over three years gives Tony at least enough time to wrap his head around it. Mpreg drawing of Tony touching Loki's baby bump.

Entry #25

Young Mer!Loki and Young Bird!Tony meet each other and become friends. 

There is not much world building, just they meet each other when they was young, become friends, when they getting older, they fall in love with each other. (And Happily ever after!)

[jenniferfaye34]

#Giveaway + Excerpt ~ Mac and Millie Mystery series by JB Michaels... #books #CozyMystery #readers

This is my stop during the book blitz for the Mac and Millie Mysteries series by JB Michaels. This book blitz is organized by Lola's Blog Tours. The book blitz runs from 18 till 24 May. There is a tour wide giveaway during this blitz. See the tour schedule here. The Christmas Walk Caper (Mac and Millie Mysteries #1) By JB Michaels Genre: Cozy Mystery Age category: Adult

Blurb: Add 'Catch a killer’ to your Christmas to-do list! Meet Mac, a retired hero cop with writer’s block and a penchant for trouble. What holiday hijinks will he get himself into? Probably a murder investigation. Meet Millie, a local banker and former college athlete who may have a trick or two up her sleeve. What Christmas conundrum will she be brought in to solve? Again, a murder mystery. In this delightful cozy mystery set in downtown Geneva, Illinois, our sarcastic and savvy sleuths will seek justice for the untimely death of the owner of the beloved and charming retail mansion: The Tiny Wanderer. It’s time to stroll on Third street. Immerse yourself in beautiful Christmas décor. Drink some hot chocolate and help solve the Christmas Walk Caper.

You can find The Christmas Walk Caper on Goodreads You can buy The Christmas Walk Caper here on Amazon EXCERPT: Mac O'Malley adjusted his chair in the atrium café of the Tiny Wanderer, a labyrinthine retail center inside a colonial-style mansion nestled on the famously charming Third Street of Geneva, Illinois. He moved his hands closer to the keyboard of his brand new appropriately named Mac computer. He stopped just short of typing when he decided to take a drink of his black coffee that smelled better than it tasted. Alas, that was just the way the former cop and national hero liked it. Bitter, black, and hotter than hell. Many Chicago winters on the beat needed coffee just like this. As much as Millie would like to point out and Mac deny, he always slurped his coffee. He slurped it now. He realized it when the old gray-haired man lowered a newspaper to reveal a menacing scowl. “Sorry. Just really love the coffee here.” Mac smiled. The man stared for an uncomfortable pause then put his paper back up to his face. Mac made a face back at him but only after the older man couldn’t see. Time to work. The brand new computer beckoned him to write. Though admittedly, Mac would have rather just watched movies on the amazing screen. He had a hard deadline though. A major New York publisher wanted his story. The true-life story of a cop who prevented an attack on the Chicago marathon through his wits and resolve and apparent willingness to follow a hunch even though it disobeyed direct orders from a superior officer. Mac hadn’t come away from the attack without the weight of severe consequences. He would never be a cop again. Well, a cop in the way he wanted to be. He didn’t want the desk job and instead had opted for the big publishing contract and a chance to start anew. The advance was big enough for him to take some time off and figure out his next move. For now, the chronic pain in his leg would forever be a reminder of his once vigorous job and the fuel that drove him to write the book. He looked to the cane that leaned on the wall next to his small circular table. He sighed, trying not to let it bother him and sink him into a bleak depression. He was told that writing the story would help him and help other cops to inspire them to be the best they could be. “You got this, Mac. Let’s do this.” He cracked his knuckles, slurped his coffee again. The man lowered the paper. Mac winked at him. Paper back up. Mac wondered how far he could push it with this guy. He thought better of the possible antagonism and moved his fingers to the keyboard. “I tried calling her house again and again. She should be here by now,” Edith, the hostess in the café, said to another Tiny Wanderer employee, who held garland and a string of lights. The Valentine Dine or Die (Mac and Millie Mysteries #2) By JB Michaels Genre: Cozy Mystery Age category: Adult

Blurb: Cupid’s arrow can be deadly! Mac is back at the Tiny Wanderer. Barely making any progress on his manuscript, his distraction, and procrastination prompt him to buy two tickets to an interactive dinner theater event: The Valentine Dine or Die. Will art imitate life or death? Definitely death. Millie ponders a big career opportunity at Salem Bank. After work, she joins Mac for their romantic albeit unorthodox date. Will the dinner show ease her mind and lower her stress? Not at all. From the Tiny Wanderer to the Potter House, Third Street to the Fox River, the Geneva winter makes the dead body of a prominent real estate contractor even colder. So, stick close to your Valentine, keep warm, embrace, and get cozy because your favorite conundrum cracking couple is back in The Valentine Dine or Die.

You can find The Valentine Dine or Die on Goodreads You can buy The Valentine Dine or Die here on Amazon The Swedish Days Swindle (Mac and Millie Mysteries #3) By JB Michaels Genre: Cozy Mystery Age category: Adult

Blurb: It is Summertime in Geneva and the living’s easy. Millie and Mac return to Third street to enjoy the simmering season’s marquis event, Swedish Days. Will our dynamic duo get to enjoy this Geneva event? Or, will the day’s fun lessen with murderous detriment? At this point, you know the answer. When a body bobs in the Fox River, Mac and Millie set aside their date to help solve the case of the deathly swimmer. As they examine the body, multiple downtown Geneva businesses report theft of their daily earnings. A coincidence? Perhaps. The unique shopping, delectable ice cream snacks, carnival rides, and concert vibes do little to lessen the impact when someone dies. As the evening fireworks are set to kindle, the Geneva Chamber of Commerce falls victim to the Swedish Days Swindle.

You can find The Swedish Days Swindle here on Goodreads You can buy The Swedish Days Swindle here on Amazon About the Author: I am JB Michaels, award-winning and USA Today Bestselling Author of two series: Bud Hutchins Thrillers and the Tannenbaum Tailors. I have spent my life in the study of story from riveting novels to the slam-bang action-packed world of comics to the examination of film history, I have spent a lifetime learning and examining the elements that make a story incredible. This steadfast dedication has led me to writing stories of my own. I am married and with a son, I have a great love of family. I hope that you enjoy my bestselling books that mash genres from thrillers to science fiction to fantasy! You can find and contact JB Michaels here: - Website - Facebook - Twitter - Goodreads - Amazon - Bookbub - Instagram

Giveaway 

There is a tour wide giveaway for the book blitz of Mac and Millie Mystery. One winner will win a $25 Amazon Gift Card (US Only).

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

[ciathyzareposts]

Companions of Xanth (Preceded by the Worrisome Case of Piers Anthony)

I first read Piers Anthony’s thick 1969 novel Macroscope when I was in my early teens, and haven’t returned to it since. Nevertheless, I still remember the back-of-the-jacket text on my dog-eared old first paperback edition: “Existence is full of a number of things, many of them wondrous indeed — and these are the things of this soaring novel.” This high-flown blurb has remained so memorable to me because it’s so unlike anything anybody would ever write about Anthony’s work today.

Piers Anthony was born in 1934, and first made a name for himself in literary circles as one of the slightly lesser lights among science fiction’s New Wave of the 1960s. He was no Roger Zelazny, Ursula Le Guin, or Harlan Ellison, but he was regarded as a modestly promising young writer in his own right; he even contributed a story to the second of Ellison’s landmark Dangerous Visions anthologies in 1972.

But that honor, along with Macroscope, which became his second and last novel to be nominated for a Hugo award in 1970, actually mark the high point of Anthony’s respectable literary career. It had always been difficult for him to pay the bills as a second-string writer of serious speculative fiction, and it only grew more difficult as the luster faded from the New Wave in the 1970s and his books attracted even less attention. He was saved from a perhaps not-undeserved obscurity by Lester del Rey, one of genre fiction’s most legendary editors and curators. As the first to nurture and publish such writers as Stephen R. Donaldson, Terry Brooks, and David Eddings, del Rey became largely responsible for the post-Tolkien, post-New Wave boom in epic fantasy fiction. But, apparently seeing a different set of strengths and weaknesses in Anthony than he did in those other charges, del Rey guided him down a rather less epic path. Thus in 1977 Anthony came to write A Spell for Chameleon, the first novel in an endless series of them set in the pun-infested light-fantasy world of Xanth.

A Spell for Chamelon certainly wasn’t the worst fantasy novel to be published that year. While it had nothing of any substance on its mind whatsoever, its very lightness made it a welcome alternative to the likes of the three other writers I’ve just mentioned, whose books came complete with all the labored self-seriousness of an Emerson, Lake, and Palmer album. The fact is, there really wasn’t much else like A Spell for Chameleon on bookstore shelves in 1977; it felt like a genuine breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, that book was as good as Xanth ever got. When it became the best-selling novel he had ever written by far, Anthony recognized it for what it was: a formula for maximum sales with minimum labor investment. And from that point on, he never looked back.

Still, even the first few Xanth novels after A Spell for Chameleon weren’t horribly written by the standards of their kind. Eventually, though, Anthony decided that such niceties as editing were incompatible with his desire to publish one of them every year, along with two or more other books from his other series. In time, he admitted to writing his novels using a “template” in his word processor — ah, the wonders of technology! — that he needed merely fill in, Mad Libs-style. He was actually able to outsource much of the writing to his readers, by inviting them to submit their own jokes and plots and character outlines. But where the rubber meets the road, in the form of sentences on the page, none of these assistants could make up for his refusal to take the time to be any good at his craft. There are sentences in latter-day Anthony in particular which are simply appalling from a writer with decades of experience. Consider, for example, this extract: “So why would I break with him? Because I came to the conclusion that he was a loose cannon. The problem with such a cannon is that it is more dangerous to its friends than to its enemies. I had suffered such looseness before…” If ever a court is established for crimes against the English language, Piers Anthony ought to be one of the first writers it indicts.

Between 1977 and today, Anthony has churned out no less than 42 Xanth novels, with another four reportedly complete and merely awaiting release as of this writing. And in between all those Xanth novels, he’s written dozens of other books. His guiding principle appears to be that not one word he writes should ever be put to waste; he’s wants somebody to pay for every last stroke of the keyboard. Thus he’s written two rambling, unfocused “autobiographies” which seem to be composed of journal extracts and “how to be a successful writer” advice columns he wasn’t able to place anywhere else. And thus when he wrote a series of letters to a twelve-year-old Xanth fan who had been paralyzed in a car crash, he irretrievably tainted the kindness he had evinced in doing so by compiling all of them into a book and publishing that too.

Anthony’s great stroke of genius for promoting all of these books came right out of the modern social-media playbook: he built his brand out of himself, building a cult of personality that superseded pesky details like the quality of his prose or the originality of his plots. For most people, Xanth fandom has a definite expiration date; it generally begins in one’s preteen years, and is over around the time one learns to drive a car. Within that window of time, however, many youngsters are all in for Xanth, and this is due not least to the connection they feel to its mastermind. Early on, Anthony took to appending an “author’s note” to each of his novels, in which he mused about the circumstances of its creation. That anyone, much less impatient youngsters, should have found these interesting was rather bizarre on the face of it. Anthony didn’t travel much or have adventures in the real world or build or do unusual things. He mostly just sat in front of his computer in his suburban home — not exactly a memorably unusual lifestyle in this modern world of ours. In the context of his author’s notes at least, the purchase of some extra memory for his computer or the switch to a new word processor counted as major life events for him.

And yet his fans absolutely ate it up. Most of them were still at an age when books and other creative works seemed to fall out of the sky fully-formed from a realm completely isolated from their own experience. Their glimpses of a real person behind the curtain of the Xanth novels marked for many of them their first exposure to the idea of artistic creation as a human labor — perhaps one they could even engage in themselves. And so, far from being a disadvantage, this sweeping away of the creative mystique was a big part of Xanth’s appeal, inculcating enormous loyalty in Anthony’s young readers. A memorable 2012 episode of the radio show This American Life illustrates the real bond that existed (and presumably still exists) between Anthony and his fans by telling the story of a picked-on teenage boy who ran away to the house of his favorite author — and was, it must be said, treated by said author with great kindness and compassion when he arrived there.

Yet even as he was nurturing such a warm relationship with his fans, Anthony was cementing his reputation among his peers as one of the biggest jerks in genre publishing. His career has been a long string of feuds and shattered friendships, which he describes at length in his autobiographies. His most longstanding battle has been with the Science Fiction Writers of America, an organization he claims to have “blacklisted” him during his lean years; no one actually involved with the SFWA is quite sure what he’s talking about. The real core of Anthony’s anger would seem to be his frustration at not being taken seriously by such establishment organs as this one. He’s long since been dismissed — admittedly, on pretty good evidence — as a lightweight; there will be no more Hugo talk in his future. Anthony complains endlessly about how all of his more “adult” fiction has been overshadowed by the Xanth novels which have made him a rich man, but has never taken the obvious step of simply not writing any more of the latter. The tension between artistic and commercial demands has tortured the psyche of many a writer, but in Anthony’s case it feels more comical than tragic, given that his adult books all tend to read like Xanth novels with more explicit violence — and, most especially, with much more explicit sex. And so we arrive at the really disturbing side of Piers Anthony.

I want to be especially careful in what I say next because I’ve always tried to separate the creator from his work when writing criticism of any stripe. Certainly there’s no shame in writing disposable children’s entertainment. And certainly there have been plenty of other writers who have also been jerks, including some whose talents far exceeded those of Anthony. And certainly writers need to be able to address difficult, uncomfortable subject matter without being accused of promoting or glorifying the things they describe; Vladimir Nabokov should not be deemed a pedophile because he wrote Lolita. But, even having taken all of that to heart, it remains hard for me to avoid the feeling when reading Piers Anthony on the subject of sex that something is simply wrong with this guy.

Anthony’s wrongness about sex, I should emphasize, isn’t the usual science-fiction author’s clunky mawkishness. It’s more extreme even than Robert A. Heinlein during his Dirty Old Man phase, when he wrote about sex like an alien with no understanding of human psychology might, describing it like any other mechanical process might be described by any of the dozens of stock Competent Men who populated his novels: “Now, you see, Friday, it’s just a matter of inserting Tab A here into Slot B, then moving it in and out like so.” No, Anthony’s obsession with girls just past the age of puberty — or in some eye-opening cases with girls who have not yet reached puberty — is more pernicious than this sort of rank cluelessness. It’s the reason that, if I saw a youngster I was fond of reading an Anthony novel, I wouldn’t just shrug my shoulders, but would actively try to steer her toward something I consider more healthy. For there really is, I think, a sickness — moral if not psychological in the clinical sense — running through this man’s body of work.

This side of Anthony isn’t new, although it has grown more pronounced over time as he’s become less beholden to editors. A Spell for Chameleon‘s gender politics weren’t particularly progressive even by the standards of the late 1970s. Its hero is a young man named Bink who wants something which his author considers to be impossible under normal circumstances: a girl with whom he can enjoy a warm friendship-of-intellectual-equals and whom he also finds sexually attractive — for it’s taken as a given by Anthony that a smart girl can never be a sexy one. The solution to Bink’s problem arrives in a girl with the unsubtle name of Chameleon, who cycles over the course of a month between a hideous but brilliant hag and a beautiful but moronic nymphomaniac. (Yes, Anthony’s idea of allegory really is that banal.) And so Bink’s problem is solved. The solution comes complete with a bit of teenage philosophizing, which Bink delivers to Chameleon’s nympho-bimbo incarnation just before they go at it again.

“I like beautiful girls,” he said. “And I like smart girls. But I don’t trust the combination. I’d settle for an ordinary girl, except she’d get dull after a while. Sometimes I want to talk with someone intelligent, and sometimes I want to –” He broke off. Her mind was like that of a child; it wasn’t really right to impose such concepts on her.

“That’s the point,” he said. “I like variety. I would have trouble living with a stupid girl all the time — but you aren’t stupid all the time. Ugliness is no good for all the time — but you aren’t ugly all the time either. You are — variety. And that is what I crave for the long-term relationship — and what no other girl can provide.”

Cringe-inducingly adolescent though this take on guys and chicks might be — especially when one considers that it was written without any apparent irony by a 43-year-old man — it’s pretty harmless compared to where the Xanth novels went later on. Uncomfortably young girls get put in sexually charged situations, often with much older men, over and over. There’s little to no explicit sex — note where Bink “breaks off” in the extract above — but the subtext keeps getting more and more creepy. By 1992, Anthony felt free to entitle one of his Xanth novels The Color of Her Panties. At this point, it was hard to avoid the feeling that he was deliberately trolling the critics who had by now been calling him out for his books’ pervy subtexts for quite some time.

Still, Anthony’s allegedly prurient interest in his young female subjects would be much more speculative — and I would probably not be writing this article — were it not for those other, “adult” books of his. Many of these ooze the same disturbing fixations as the Xanth books, but are able to carry them through to, shall we say, consumation. Exhibit Number One in this category must be Firefly, a 1990 attempt at horror dealing primarily with what Anthony himself describes as “inflamed and perverted sexual desire.” It includes a lengthy sex scene between an adult man and a five-year-old girl, described in minute detail. In fact, the scene is another, rather horrifying example of Anthony’s habit of outsourcing the writing of his books: it came from an imprisoned pedophile with whom he corresponded. Anthony, in other words, literally published child porn. It’s quite simply the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read in a lifetime of prolific reading. Not even Mein Kampf bothers me like this. Needless to say, I won’t be quoting it here.

But, you counter, this was a horror novel, a genre meant to shock and transgress norms. Don’t confuse the author with the work, etc. And I might reluctantly agree with you, even if I didn’t have any personal desire to ever read anything by this writer again. But then comes the author’s note, in which Anthony justifies the rape of this five-old-girl because… she wanted it. She was asking for it, tempting the man who had sex with her into the deed. (Did I mention that she is five years old?) Her name is Nymph. (Did I mention that Anthony isn’t subtle?)

There seems to be a broad spectrum of human desire, and what we call normal is only the central component. It may be that the problem is not with what is deviant, but with our definitions. I suggest in the novel that little Nymph was abused not by the man with whom she had sex, but by members of her family who warped her taste, and by the society that preferred to condemn her lover rather than address the source of the problem in her family.

Those who feel that [the imprisoned pedophile’s] stories represent abnormal taste should read My Secret Garden by Nancy Friday, which details some of the sexual fantasies of women. Neither is Nymph an invention; similar cases are all too frequent. These aspects were from my research rather than my imagination. I don’t know what is right and what is wrong; I merely hope to raise some social questions along with the entertainment provided in the novel. I suspect our priorities are confused. We have problems enough with world hunger and injustice, without making more by punishing people for deviant but perhaps harmless behavior.

Here we have it from the horse’s mouth. The rape of a five-year-old girl is “perhaps harmless.”

We often see this pattern of argument — the “hey, I’m just asking questions!” pattern — among those who wish to say something much of the society around them will consider reprehensible but who lack the courage to stand right up and do so. (You see it constantly, for example, in the toxic arena that is present-day American politics.) Added to all of the other circumstantial evidence swirling around Piers Anthony — his many almost-as provocative statements made in interviews; his correspondences with multiple imprisoned pedophiles, not just this one; the unending fascination with pubescent and prepubescent girls running through most of his novels — it raises a strong feeling that something is indeed wrong inside this fellow’s head. I should emphasize that I have no reason to believe that Anthony has ever acted on the urges in question, if they do in fact exist. Has he found a way to satisfy them through his writing instead? That would be a good thing, if so; the crime exists not in the unfortunate psychological kink of being a pedophile, but in acting upon it. Or, that is, it would be a good thing — if only his books weren’t being read.

Once you’ve seen these things, you can never unsee them. Anthony’s cherished relationships with his young fans — and again, I have no reason to believe he has ever abused their trust in any physical sense — takes on a new, creepy flavor. Suddenly all those long letters to the paralyzed girl, as collected in the book Letters to Jenny, begin to read disturbingly like… well, like he’s flirting with her. And suddenly we breathe a sigh of relief that the teenage runaway whose story was chronicled on This American Life was a boy rather than a girl. How much of this is real and how much is projection? It’s impossible to say. (Hey, I’m just asking questions…) I will say only this: please, read someone else’s books, and try to get your children to do so as well. I smell something rotten at the core of this writer’s output, and I know I’m not alone.

All of the foregoing ruminations were prompted by my ostensible “real” subject for today, the 1993 Legend Entertainment game Companions of Xanth. Ironically, I find myself with somewhat less to say about that subject than I do about Piers Anthony’s odd and disturbing career arc as a writer. The game is… reasonably good, actually, if hardly one of the most memorable works in the history of adventure gaming. The creepiness factor is kept surprisingly low under the circumstances, the humor is hit-and-miss but always good-natured, and the design, with one glaring exception which we’ll get to momentarily, is up to Legend’s usual high standard. Further, in one sense at least, the game represents a real landmark in Legend’s history: it marks the point where they finally dumped their parser and embraced the point-and-click paradigm, thus ushering in the second of the three broad phases of the company’s history and ushering out the age of the commercial text adventure writ large.

Companions of Xanth came to exist at all entirely thanks to Legend’s everyday composer and music programmer Michael Lindner, who also happened to be one of those rare readers who defy the usual age-circumscribed window of Xanth fandom; he had retained his affection for the series right into his adult years. He had first supplemented his usual duties at Legend with those of a writer and designer on 1992’s Gateway, a project consciously engineered by the company’s co-founder Bob Bates to serve as a sort of boot camp for training up new designers. Having duly completed that apprenticeship, Lindner begged for permission to make a Xanth game as his first project as a head designer. His managers obligingly made inquiries, and soon brought home a contract to make a game version of Piers Anthony’s latest Xanth novel-in-progress, which was to be titled Demons Don’t Dream. As was more usual than not for licensed projects like this, Lindner had very little direct contact with Anthony in the course of making the game. He largely had to content himself with pre-release proofs of the novel in question, whose plot the game he made follows fairly closely but not slavishly.

We can probably feel pleased for Anthony’s lack of involvement, in that it means that most of the pervier elements of Xanth are missing. While Anthony in his novel dwells at length over the “luscious young women” in the story, Lindner lays it on considerably less thickly.

The pervy aspects of Xanth aren’t overly prevalent in the game, but aren’t entirely absent either. You can look up “panties” in the in-game encyclopedia…

Still, the plot is rife with other Xanthian staples — not least the meta-fictional elements that had become such a hallmark of the series by this point, sixteen books in. Many of the jokes, situations, and characters in both the book and the game come courtesy of Anthony’s army of fans, who are scrupulously credited by name in the book’s author’s note. The most notable example of fan service is the character of Jenny Elf, based on the author’s young friend Jenny, the car-crash victim he wrote to at such length. (By this point, Anthony tells us in his author’s note, she had recovered from her paralysis sufficient to sit and even stand briefly without support. She would make further strides in the years to come, although she would never regain her full range of motion.) Jenny Elf, who is blessedly not overly sexualized even in the book, appears alongside Sammy Cat, the real girl’s favorite pet.

You yourself play as a teenage boy named Dug who lives in Mundania, the non-magical alternative to Xanth; Mundania, that is to say, is our world. As a hater of computer games, Dug has made a bet with his friend Ed that he won’t like one called Companions of Xanth. If his faith in the pointlessness of the gaming hobby holds true, he wins Ed’s motorcycle; if this game proves an exception to the rule, Ed gets a date with Dug’s estranged girlfriend. (“But what if she doesn’t want to go out with you?” asks Dug. “That’s a technicality we’ll deal with at the appropriate time,” answers Ed. Okay, the game isn’t totally without creepy elements…)

So, the earliest stages of the real Companions of Xanth require you to open this virtual Companions of Xanth and boot it up on your in-game computer. (Confused yet?) After some preliminaries, you get sucked through the monitor screen into Xanth. (That is to say, your character in the game you’re playing gets sucked through the monitor of the computer running the game he’s playing.)

Companions of Xanth resoundingly fails to put its best foot forward. Just as you’re about to enter Xanth and get started properly, it lives up to its name by asking you to choose a companion for your adventures from four possibilities. A nice little addition, this, you think to yourself, as you choose the companion that looks most interesting and entertaining. This must be a way to make the game replayable, a la Maniac Mansion. But nope! Think again! There’s just one “correct” companion to be chosen. Naturally, this being a Piers Anthony creation, that companion is the nubile serpent chick named Naga. If you make the supremely non-Xanthian move of choosing any of the others, the game lets you play for a few minutes longer, then dead-ends you; it’s time to restart or restore, my friend.

Such a colossal design fail is downright bizarre to see in a Legend game of this vintage. It struck me immediately that it must be an artifact of an earlier, more ambitious plan to offer four genuinely divergent experiences — a plan which got chopped down to size once the realities of time, labor, and money came home to roost. Unfortunately, neither Bob Bates nor Mike Verdu can recall what might have gone down here, and I haven’t been able to locate Richard Lindner. So, all we can do is speculate.

After a beginning like that, whatever the reason for its existence, one goes into the rest of Companions of Xanth decidedly nervous, wondering if it’s going to be one of those sorts of games. Thankfully, it isn’t; the aforementioned is its only real design pratfall. After it gets going properly, it evinces the meticulous commitment to fair play which the Legend brand was coming to stand for by 1993.

Much of the humor, and with it many of the puzzles, revolve around puns and wordplay, long a Xanth staple. Mind you, Companions of Xanth isn’t as clever as something like Infocom’s Nord and Bert Couldn’t Make Head or Tail of It in this respect. It is, after all, implicitly written for a less sophisticated audience, yet it can still be good fun in its own right. You’ll spend time here battling a censor ship, finding a way to get beyond the pail, and visiting the Fairy Nuff. Sometimes the puns go a little too far out on a limb — the “com-pewter,” an interactive compendium made out of pewter, is one example — but the puzzles themselves are always comprehensible, which is the most important thing. Only those who struggle a bit with idiomatic English in general, such as non-native speakers, are likely to have any major problems solving the game.

Companions of Xanth as a whole is as lightweight as the novels which inspired it. If it never quite dazzles, it never annoys overmuch either, at least once you get past that first hump, and it might even prompt a chuckle or two. It’s a sort of baseline standard game for Legend, never really managing to distinguish itself in either a positive or a negative way. Yet its interface did mark it as something truly new for the four-year-old company at the time of its release, and as such is perhaps worthy of more attention than the game it supports.

As I noted in my last article, in reality the parser disappeared more gradually than suddenly from Legend games; the full run of titles the company released between 1990 and 1993 shows a slow marginalization of the parser, until finally, beginning with Companions of Xanth, it just wasn’t there at all anymore. In fact, this same evolutionary process could be said not to have really ended even here. Although the move to point-and-click has forced the loss of that sense of infinite possibility that so delights people like me and Bob Bates, what remains here is about as text-adventure-like an interface as can be imagined under the new paradigm. Indeed, it smacks of the old ICOM Simulations interface from the mid-1980s, the industry’s earliest serious attempt to recast the classic adventure game in this mold, more so than it does the contemporary interfaces of Sierra and LucasArts. In a sense, one might even say, the parser still exists in this game. It’s just that you now build your imperative sentences with the mouse instead of the keyboard. Such an approach had always been an option in the earlier Legend games; now, it merely becomes a requirement.

Given that the screenshots of the interface included with this article are all but self-explanatory, I won’t dwell too long on its mechanics. Clicking a hotspot in the onscreen picture will highlight a default verb in the list on the left of the screen. Simply clicking on the hotspot again at this point will take that action, but you can also choose another verb from the list, if you wish. Many objects also have unique verbs which show up below the standard list when they’re highlighted; a rock, for example, might have an additional “throw” verb. And indirect objects are connected to certain actions; throwing the rock will require a third click, specifying what to throw it at. As you’re doing all of this, you see your command being built right there on the screen, just as if you were typing it in via a parser. It’s even possible to specify a verb first, then choose the object it acts upon, although this approach is of limited utility in that it doesn’t give you access to the special verbs connected to some objects.

All of which is to say that the new interface truly does represent another evolutionary rather than revolutionary technological step for Legend. What we have here is not a whole new game engine, bur rather the old one with a different front end. Once it gets past the stage of interpreting the player’s command, there’s less difference than you might expect between this Legend game and those that came before it.

This fact is most clearly illustrated in the screenshots by that little “Undo” button in the corner, something you would never — could never — see in a Sierra or LucasArts game. For those games run in real time, while Companions of Xanth, like a text adventure or an ICOM game, is still turn-based. This distinction has an enormous impact on the character of the game, reaching far beyond the welcome ability to instantly undo your last action when you get yourself killed or otherwise try something unfortunate. Legend games even after the parser went away have a more relaxed, contemplative, literary sensibility than the works of Legend’s peers. There’s still quite a lot of text here, and that text is still treated with unusual care and respect. It isn’t hard to divine, after playing around with one of their point-and-click games for just a few minutes, why Legend became the go-to studio for literary adaptations during the 1990s. While it had proved possible to take the type-in parser out of Legend’s engine, it was more difficult to take the literary spirit of the text adventure out of the company’s collective design aesthetic.

One holdover from text adventures that may not thrill some players is the maze…

This held true even when Legend was otherwise embracing the multimedia era with gusto. Although Eric the Unready and Gateway 2: Homeworld had both been released in CD-ROM versions prior to Companions of Xanth, those were mere repackagings of the floppy-disk-based versions into a more convenient format. But when the subject of this article appeared on CD-ROM about six months after its original floppy-based release, it sported voice acting for the first time in a Legend title. And yet even here the voice acting only covered words said by the characters you met; there was no global narrator. Such an approach felt very much in keeping with that overarching literary sensibility that so marked Legend’s work. In this game, and in the next several Legend games to come, you were still expected to do a lot of reading for yourself.

For the record, the voice acting that is to be found in the CD-ROM Companions of Xanth is excellent — an impressive feat considering that this was Legend’s first foray into such a thing. Even here, their first time out, they were wise enough to employ professional actors recruited from the local union for same and recorded at a professional sound studio. It’s obvious that the actors had fun with their roles; my favorite part of the whole game might just be the blooper reel of outtakes which plays over the closing credits.

In the end, though, I find myself torn on the subject of Companions of Xanth in a way I can’t recall being for any other game I’ve written about here. If it existed in a vacuum, shorn of its association with Piers Anthony, I would call it a fun, frothy little fantasy romp, a solid debut for a new interface which retains more of the spirit of the old than we might have dared to hope for. And I would be happy enough to leave it at that. But, even as I believe it’s wrong to judge art on external factors in the vast majority of cases, there are exceptions, and I’m not sure this isn’t one of them.

I don’t blame Legend in any sense for making this game. Many of the more worrisome aspects of Anthony’s oeuvre become obvious only in the aggregate; most or all of those who worked on this game at Legend doubtless believed that they were merely capitalizing on a popular, harmless series of lightweight fantasy books. And yet I do find myself wishing that they had chosen some other series, just as I wish any current readers of Xanth, young or old, would do likewise. In my role of critic, I can tell you that Companions of Xanth is a (mostly) well-constructed game that’s relatively inoffensive in itself. But should you play it? That is, as always — but perhaps here even more so than usual — something you’ll have to decide for yourself.

(Sources: the Piers Anthony books Bio of an Ogre, How Precious was that While, Letters to Jenny, Macroscope, A Spell for Chameleon, The Color of Her Panties, Firefly, and Demons Don’t Dream; Computer Gaming World of July 1993 and March 1994; Questbusters 108. My thanks go to Bob Bates and Mike Verdu for talking with me about this period of Legend’s history — but I must emphatically state that all of the opinions expressed herein, especially of Piers Anthony and his work, are mine alone.

Companions of Xanth has not been re-released as a digital edition, doubtless owing to the complications involved with licensed titles. I’d prefer not to host it here due to my distaste for Piers Anthony, but you can find it elsewhere without too much trouble.)

  BONUS:

The Compiled Life Wisdom of Piers Anthony, as Found in His Autobiographies

Writers like Roger Zelazny and Samuel Delany got awards because of their sophistication as writers, which sophistication I do not question, but I was regarded from the outset as an entertainment writer. What I was doing was too complex and subtle, not only for others to understand, but for them even to realize that it existed.

The best guide for a book to avoid is an award winner.

I worried that I would not be able to write fantasy well without Lester del Rey’s editing. But instead it was like a burden lifting from my shoulders. Suddenly I was free of oppressive editing.

Then Lester tried to cut the entire Author’s Note from the fourth Incarnations novel, Wielding a Red Sword. He said it was too long, and anyway, they were in the business of publishing fiction, not nonfiction. This was the Note in which I described my computerization — I had until then written my novels in pencil and then typed them with a manual machine, so it was a significant step for me.

When I read Isaac Asimov’s massive two-volume autobiography I found it interesting, but concluded that the minutia of daily existence are seldom worth recording for posterity.

I dumped SFWA, and have remained hostile to it since. There is evidence that some of its members are still spreading falsehoods about me. If ever push comes to shove, I will put it out of business. Because today I have the resources to sue. All I need is the pretext.

I, like most boys, would have been capable of orgasm at any time in childhood, had I known how to masturbate.

A formula I invented for explaining the ways of publishers: TPB = SOD. What does it mean? Typical Publisher Behavior is Shitting On Dreams.

So are publishers really as rapacious and idiotic as they seem? Yes and no. Just as the intelligence and conscience of a lynch mob may be less than that of any individual person within it, so may the net savvy of a publisher be below that of any of its components.

I feel like a beautiful woman. That is, a lovely woman is pursued by many men — but when she mentions commitment, most of them vanish. Some vanish when they find they can’t get her into bed on the first date. Others vanish after they do get her into bed. So she becomes cynical; it is evident that most of those ardent suitors are insincere; all they want is her body for a night, rather than an enduring relationship, unless she happens to be rich. All the publishers really wanted from me was my best-selling series, Xanth — and those who lost it and those who got it tended to vanish as far as my other novels went.

I pondered, and my agent pondered, and it was my wife, who evidently understands the situation of beautiful women, who came up with an effective notion: link the one to the other. Make a package deal. So when the time for a new multi-novel Xanth contract came up, we put it to TOR: double or nothing. If this man wanted to get this woman in bed again, there would have to be marriage — though TOR’s chief editor is female, and I’m male.

[My wife and I] have what I call a conventional marriage: I earn the money, she spends it. In fact she keeps accounts and does the taxes, which are complicated. I decide on the big things, like the significance of world events, and she decides the small things, like everything else. I’m glad I married her, and believe that I would not be where I am today without her. But if I should find myself alone, I would then consider more carefully what else offers, with strong cautions from my life experience. Meanwhile I have a small category of correspondents I treat politely: those who profess or imply love for me.

Women of any age are interesting, and as a general rule, the younger a woman is, the more interesting she is, because natural selection dictates that the man who controls the greatest part of a woman’s fertile years will have the most children. A girl of twelve may have breasts and be a young woman in appearance; she is sexually desirable, regardless of law or custom. A girl of eleven may lack the breasts but be of similar general appearance, and her clothing masks her lack of maturity. So it is evident that some men aren’t concerned about the distinction, and go for the vagina regardless.

I have an insatiable curiosity about the nature of the universe and mankind’s place in it, and my profession of writing allows me to explore it all, seeking answers. I have fathomed a number of things to my satisfaction before they were clarified by the scientists.

Sometimes I’m stupid. This is annoying when I’m taking an IQ test.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/companions-of-xanth-preceded-by-the-worrisome-case-of-piers-anthony/

[aion-rsa]

Bio Comic Shows the Inventor of the Zombie Did a Lot More Than That

The cartoonist of seven books, including “Mid-Life,” “Happy Stories About Well-Adjusted People,” and “This Will All End in Tears,” Joe Ollmann has not only received a Doug Wright Award, CBC Radio called him “a master of the short story” and compared him to Alice Munro. His new book, “The Abominable Mr. Seabrook,” looks to continue the accolades for the accomplished creator.

The book details the life of William Seabrook, a writer best remembered for introducing the term “zombie” into the English language, though as Ollmann makes clear, Seabrook wrote about and did far, far more than most might think. Seabrook wrote about Haiti, Arabia and Africa, early plane travel, alcoholism and bondage; he was friends with Gertrude Stein, Aleister Crowley, Sinclair Lewis and Man Ray. He was the forerunner of the model of adventurer and writer that has been carried on by the likes of Hunter S. Thompson.

CBR: William Seabrook was a real character — I don’t know how else to describe him! How did you first encounter him?

Joe Ollmann: I discovered him in a zombie anthology called “Zombie.” There was a short piece by Seabrook in there, which was very good. It’s a true story of zombies in Haiti from his book “The Magic Island.” It was a good story, and I really liked his writing, but what interested me more was the short biographical blurb before the story. The people that he’d known, the places that he traveled, and other salacious facts, like his bondage fetish, and cannibalism, and alcoholism. I’d never heard of the guy, and I felt like I should have because he had a pretty interesting, storied life. That sent me searching for more info. I was a little surprised that there wasn’t more info on him. None of his eleven books were in print at the time; Dover has started to bring some of them back into print, but he was a bestselling author in his day. It seemed like people should have known about him because he had a pretty interesting life.

One person you quote in the book makes the observation that what Seabrook would have liked was to be misunderstood. He wasn’t, however, and instead was a huge success.

That was Alexander King, the illustrator, who was an editor at “Life Magazine.” He said that Seabrook wanted to be a misunderstood author who was deep and artistic and inscrutable, but he was this populist writer who wrote about lurid subjects, mostly. But he wrote about them very intelligently and very well. Seabrook was always torn; he wanted to be a Gertrude Stein or a James Joyce or someone like that, but he came from a trashy Randolph Hearst newspaper background, writing stories like ‘Caught in the Death Grip of a Giant Clam.’ He wanted to do art, and he did very good populist stuff.

At the same time — and I couldn’t help but think of this in terms of his alcoholism and self-loathing — he sought out the company of people like Gertrude Stein and James Joyce, people who were in that Left Bank or Greenwich Village crowds.

He was very well connected. They sought him out, too, it seems, because they remembered him well enough to write about him in their autobiographies. Gertrude Stein, Sinclair Lewis, Man Ray, Aleister Crowley wrote about him. He obviously made an impression on these people. I would imagine he was quite a character, a guy who was fun to go to parties with, but not so fun to live with.

So when did you go from being curious about this writer to making a book about him?

At the beginning, I was just interested and I started to read. There was a little bit on the Internet. There were Seabrook fans on LiveJournal that had a lot of information, and that steered me towards certain books, which was quite helpful. I started buying his books and reading them. As I was reading them, I started keeping notes. I first started taking notes around 2006, so it’s been more than ten years now that I’ve been unofficially researching. I traveled to North Carolina with my wife — she was at an academic conference and I went with her because a collector there had a trunk of Seabrook stuff. I went to the University of Oregon for almost a week, and went through the archives of Marjorie Worthington, who was Seabrook’s second wife. She was an author, and her archives were there. I was going through boxes of her stuff — journals, letters, photos.

At that point, I’m wearing white gloves at a university archive and taking notes and I was like, “I guess you’re making a book of this guy, because what else are you going do?” [Laughs] I had already invested a lot of time and travel and money, so it became apparent that I had to do something with it. It was more than just a hobby. I talked about it a lot for years with people and everybody was very intrigued by the elevator pitch of this guy’s life and they never heard of him so they said, you should make a book about him. I could have just written a proper biography – a “book book” as we call real books in the comics world – but I’m a cartoonist, so I did it as a comic book biography.

I can imagine you spent part of that decade digging up visual reference and focusing on depicting those details.

I don’t usually use a lot of visual reference, but I really tried to get the details as correct as possible with this book. I felt it deserved the extra time. It’s set in many different time periods on different continents with many different cultures and with historical characters. I did a lot of research — I have folders of reference material for each section. I’ve never really done that much research visually before, so hopefully it improved the book.

I’ve read other books of yours, and it’s clearly your style, but it also felt very different than anything you’ve done before.

I think so. In a way, it’s not proper nonfiction. I see any biography with dialogue in it is out of the realm of nonfiction and into “speculative nonfiction,” where it’s well researched but I extrapolated and made up dialogue to fill in the story. It is different, but I feel like readers of my normal depressing comics that I do which are slice of life kitchen sink dramas of normal people who are troubled and they’re sad but they have humor in them, I think the Seabrook book probably has a similar feel because you know we put our stamp on everything as an artist or a writer so even though it’s his story it definitely has my fingerprints all over it I would think.

Drawing things like bondage — I’ve never done anything like that. I talked to cartoonist Pascal Girard years ago when I was living in Montreal, and his advice was draw the bondage stuff really frankly. Don’t not show it, but don’t make it sexy. I drew it very openly, not trying to make it salacious or sexed up. Hopefully that worked.

What made Seabrook fascinating wasn’t that he practiced bondage, but he wrote about it and he collaborated with Man Ray on series of photographs depicting bondage.

He and Man Ray were friends for a long time. Man Ray took a lot of photos of Seabrook, like when he was arriving back from Africa on a plane. Then he did the photos of Seabrook and Lee Miller where she’s wearing a collar and he’s holding the collar. There’s a whole other series of photos that they did, The Fantasies of Mr. Seabrook, which are pretty hardcore bondage. I think that was Seabrook trying to legitimize his kinky side by turning it into art. It could be perceived as legitimate because Man Ray was this established, respected artist at the time and collaborating with him would bring a legitimacy to it.

Seabrook is also fascinating because for his time, he was very progressive when writing about Haiti and Arabia and the people he meets.

For his time he was very progressive in writing about race and his interaction with other cultures. That what I find fascinating. He is very respectful of the cultures. He’s not a detached observer like an anthropologist would be. He’s living as equals with them and I think he’s accepted by the Bedouins when he’s living in the Middle East and again in Haiti by the Haitian people there. In Africa as well, although in Africa he’s acting more like a “great white hunter” in that book. I think he was more famous, and his alcoholism had progressed to the point where he wasn’t making good decisions about anything. But I agree, for his time, he was very progressive on matters of race, and very respectful of the Arab and Muslim culture.

One reason I don’t think that Seabrook isn’t one of the great travel writers like Thesiger or Stark is because, as you point out, Seabrook had a tendency to embellish and make things up.

He did a bit of that. Maybe I make too much of a deal about it. The famous thing he lied about — that in Africa he ate human flesh — which he doesn’t but he does eat human flesh when he returns to Paris to make it “true.” There was also people that criticized his details of the facts of the voodoo religion in “The Magic Island.” Seabrook cited Zora Neale Hurston, who in her book “Tell My Horse” writes about very similar things. Hurston is a respected anthropologist and she’s a black woman who has less to gain from maligning the people of Haiti, and she supported his facts, basically, in her book. As a guy that was a reporter, I think he took the facts seriously. I think he exaggerated. I think he’s a typical raconteur who will exaggerate and be hyperbolic to make a better story. I hesitate to say that he was constantly lying about things in his books, although he may have — it’s hard to know.

You make an interesting observation at the end, which is that it might be best to think of him as a precursor to gonzo journalism.

I think so. The act of throwing yourself into the middle of the story and making the story about you. I couldn’t find out in Hunter S. Thompson or any of that school read Seabrook, but I suspect that Thompson probably would have. They shared a lot — the wild man, hard-drinking lifestyle, but also being a very serious writer. For all of his drinking, Seabrook was a real work horse. Even at the height of his alcoholism, he would get up in the morning at five, make coffee, work ’til noon and waste the rest of the day. I think he was a hard working reporter at heart.

Having spent all these years working on this book, what do you hope people take away from it?

My intent, really, was to serve as an introduction to the guy’s life. I don’t mean it to be a cautionary tale at all. If people read it, they’ll come away and say, obviously, it’s not a good thing to drink excessively your whole life because it will catch up with you. I just think it’s an interesting story. I wanted to introduce people to his work and maybe they’ll seek it out and read it. I think a lot of his stuff is still worth reading.

You mentioned that when you started, all of his books were out of print but now “Asylum” and “The Magic Island” are back in print.

Dover did those two, and I did the covers and introductions in comic form for them. “The Magic Island” is great, because they have an intro by George Romero. Seabrook is credited with bringing the word “zombie” into the English language, and “Magic Island” was the basis for the Bela Lugosi film “White Zombie,” so Romero writes about how he owes a debt of gratitude to Seabrook for starting the whole genre of the zombie. Then there’s an afterword by the ethnobotanist Wade Davis who wrote “The Serprent and The Rainbow.” Davis confirmed a lot of the aspects of the zombie being a genuinely chemical phenomenon instead of supernatural that Seabrook posited. It’s a travelogue, and it’s very detailed. He’s writing about the cultural history and the geopolitical history of the island and about the situation at the time in the 1920s where they were under occupation by the US. It’s just good, meandering travel writing. Those first three books of Seabrook’s are excellent.

Having spent a decade on this book, does it make you want to make another book along similar lines, or go back to making a slice of life story like you’ve done in the past?

I’m of two minds. I have a bunch of longish short story pieces that I’m ready to start on. I also have a nonfiction project about Canadian history that I’m working on. That would take a little more time. When I finished this, I was like, I don’t want to do nonfiction anymore. The research is too hard. I just want to do fiction, where you can make your characters do what you want and you’re not limited by what actually happened. I’m not sure what I’m going to do. Hopefully I’ll live long enough to do both of them. As you get older, you start to think, how many books do I have left? Comics take so long that you want to be sure what you’re doing before you commit two or three — or five or ten — years to a book.

The post Bio Comic Shows the Inventor of the Zombie Did a Lot More Than That appeared first on CBR.

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