When the Harmon family moved into their new home in Los Angeles that would then turn out to be called the Murder House back in 2011, American Horror Story achieved something truly unprecedented on the small screen – it created electrifying, daring and ambitious horror that spared no character. Yes, in pure Ryan Murphy fashion the show was messy, uneven and far exceeded its reach on occasion, but what it succeeded in doing was prove horror worked as an extended narrative beyond the feature film format, which had grown stale and predictable. It proved that if you gave your characters enough time and rope, they’d hang themselves and do so in profound and unsettling ways.
Category:
Musings & Rants
“The name is the thing, and the true name is the true thing. To speak the name is to control the thing.” — Ursula K. Le Guin, The Rule of Names
To knowing someone’s true name is to have power over them. It’s an old concept that most link to Le Guin’s writing and the world she created for the Earthsea books, but it’s far older than that. In Bulgaria, as in most Eastern Orthodox countries, names are celebrated for their power over their holder. Name Days are common enough and heavily populate the Bulgarian calendar to celebrate bearers named after saints, flowers, trees and virtues.
On this day, a year ago TOR.com published my short story “The Language of Knives” and as I look back at the odd year I had, I’d like to touch upon perspective and how strangely writing careers progress. I don’t normally think about my anniversaries since short stories don’t create the same ripples novels do and their shelf life is considerably brief. (Oh, you poor, ephemeral creatures!)
The SFWA has experienced a vile, public meltdown.
Not a newsflash, but I feel as though I’m admitting this happened now as I write about it. I’ve been following the SFWA developments for a few weeks and since the infamous petition, the situation has only escalated.
It’s hard for me to speak about this, because I’m not a SFWA member. I’m not anywhere near the US and honestly, it just hurts me to see this happen in the first place. It plays with all my buttons and I’ve been restricting myself from offering my thoughts, because they would be far from civil on the matter. Read More Why It’s a Good Thing the SFWA Meltdown Is as Ugly
That’s what I get after spending a second looking at their variant cover for PPG #6 issued by IDW’s Little line.
There is no other explanation for the cover rather than Carton Network catering to the Internet perverts to cash in on the sicker aspects of grown men idolizing characters meant for children – the way Bronies have fetishized the new incarnation My Little Pony.
Google clopping and wingboner at your own personal risk. Read More Cartoon Network Wants You to FUCK the Power Puff Girls
I have read many posts about reading your own reviews and many more about awards season self-promotion. I have said a lot of sage things about reading your own reviews as in “do not read reviews” and “I’m way too shy to promote my own work”, but do I do as I say?
Far from it.
Ever since “The Fungi That Talk Softly” came out I’ve been super hyped about it. It’s one of the stories I consider a milestone in my writing as it departed from how I normally approach a story. It’s certainly a publishing milestone as it made its way into one of my prized markets.
Chances are I won’t shut up about it soon and this post aims to illuminate why.* Read More The Reviews, Eligibility and Milestone Post
This has been a long time coming. It’s been probably so long this piece of information isn’t news at all, but I’d nevertheless wish to speak about the geektastic project Marvel has in its works.
You have heard it. Carol Danvers has graduated from the Ms. Marvel moniker, gotten a costume change and a short cut, kicking supervillain ass under the name Captain Marvel. What this means is that the Ms. Marvel persona remains open for anyone willing to don a mask and trade punches in alleyways. And Marvel has the perfect person for the job.
After yesterday’s post on my successful sugar-free challenge (or quest), I’ve been thinking about what it means to be healthy and the divide between brains and brawn, a divide which society has chosen to embrace and reinforce through popular culture. Bear in mind, I’m mostly observing as a novice to concept of lifestyle change since routines and the known offer me solace, so this post will mostly present thoughts I’ve been distilling in my head for some time.
Bulgarians as I see my countrymen are not too keen on living healthy lives. It’s mostly economic as money doesn’t allow for an entirely nutritious diet, especially if you’re providing for children. Nevertheless, I have realized language has a lot to do with this. In Bulgarian, ‘healthy’ (здрав, zdrav) as linguists have decided translates only in its most basic meaning, namely ‘to be in good health’, the normal condition of the body prior to any illness. It’s a popular word, used in expressions, sayings and the go-to place for birthday wishes. Read More The Myth That There Is a Myth about Brains and Brawn
As I base my writing for this blog on emotional authenticity for the first time in a long time (as I have done in this previous post), I hope to discuss what happened to me in 2013 as a mechanism to get out of my own damaged, self-victimizing headspace and transition into a healthier place so I can finally create rather than agonize. The mind does not lend itself to easy understanding and I often question my actions, including why I chose to start my Women in Genre month in April.
In all honesty, I realized how tight my schedule would be between March and May. A new three-month project at work awaited along with a packed program at university resulting in finals and a student competition I had hand in organizing. Instinctually, I knew I needed a distraction, rooted in the SFF community. Something positive. What I thought I needed was to build something and took to a very personal place to tell stories about the women in the community who have shaped me as a reader and writer.
I haven’t been writing. Not at all. Not one word for myself. I have given all my words elsewhere. I have painfully typed up the same words, the same call to actions, the same sentence structures for my office job. Used the same inbred sales vocabulary. Stunted my texts at the same length. I performed plastic surgery on the same thought. Over and over and over.
Hey, I wanted this.
This is what I repeated to myself for more than a year when exhaustion first settled in my mind and spread until sleep didn’t cut it. I said a lot of things to myself, including:
- Hey, I made it. This is my dream. Getting paid for writing.
- Dude, I moved out on. I wrote myself out of a life I feared, still fear, I’ll lead until I die.
- I’m learning a new trade.