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#black women writers
cecereads209 · 13 days
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⎯⎯͙⊱••✩••̩̩͙⊰•⎯
With the help of her equally intoxicated friends, Kyra arrived at the front door of her Los Angeles condo a giggling mess. She found her keys and used them to unlock the front door. Her place had been just how she left it except for the gleam of light that came from her bedroom down the hall. Anyone else would be frightened but Kyra was well aware of who was currently occupying her space.
For the past two weeks, Kyra hadn’t had a night without his body heat and arms engulfing her body, lulling her to sleep. For the most part he kept his hands to himself but tonight Kyra wanted them on her. With each drink she consumed throughout the night, a fire built within her that only he could extinguish.
Kyra slipped off her heels and jacket, leaving them on the mat near the front door. She left her purse on the stand nearby before heading down the hall. She expected to see him sprawled out on her bed, playing on his Switch or watching whatever anime he was obsessed with at the moment. To her surprise, Kyra’s bed was untouched.
From her peripheral vision, Kyra noticed the emergence of smoke from her dark balcony that overlooked the city. Sure enough, in one of her lounge chairs was Tre, shirtless, only black sweatpants covering his lower body. Kyra slid open the balcony door to step out into the cool night air. She walked around to take a seat in his lap. Drunken eyes met high ones.
“Had fun?” He asked after exhaling the smoke from his recent pull.
Kyra might’ve been out of it but it wasn’t hard for her to sense the energy that he exuded with those two words. He was bothered. Kyra felt herself sobering up.
“What’s the mad face for?” She ran a manicured finger across his bearded jaw.
Tre ashed his blunt in the ashtray that sat on the table near them. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his phone. After several moments, Kyra watched as he turned the phone over so she could see the entire screen. Staring back at her was a video of her at the party she had just come back from. Summer Walker’s “White Tee” could be heard clearly in the background, with a few outbursts from her friends to hype her up, as a drunk Kyra sang the lyrics while dancing seductively on another man.
Kyra’s first thought was “Damn, I look good.” From the silkyness of her red colored hair, the soft glam makeup that enhanced her features, to the emerald green color of her dress paired with her glistening jewelry, no one could deny that she was a stunner tonight. Looking from the phone to Tre’s intimidating stare, alarms rang off in her head. She was surely about to be dealt with. Not in the way she originally expected but in a way that would be way more fulfilling.
⎯⎯͙⊱••✩••̩̩͙⊰•⎯
a/n: part two?👀
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butterflikisses · 2 years
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👏🏾💐👏🏾💐👏🏾💐
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profeminist · 1 year
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"What they call you is one thing. What you answer to is something else."
— Lucille Clifton, American poet, writer, and educator
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brightandshiney · 6 months
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Toward A Black Feminist Criticism by Barbara Smith excerpt from, Mouths of Rain: An Anthology of Black Lesbian Thought // Briona Simone Jones
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miscellaneousjay · 1 year
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For all the black girl nerd Attoye fanfic lovers, @sphinx81 and @xblackreader are doing the damn thing in these internet streets! They both have so much Attoye work between both of their blogs, it’s ridiculous in the best way! Follow them and they’ll have you bingeing and wanting more! I know I’m missing more by other amazing peeps, but these are consistently on my particular radar. Reblog and add yourself/others so we can all find more of these amazing works!
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lucidlymelanated · 1 year
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Audre Lorde
(Poet)
(February 18, 1934 - November 17, 1992)
Self described as "black, lesbian, mother, warrior, poet", her work focused on confronting homophobia, racism, sexism and classism.
Born in New York to parents who immigrated from the West Indies, she published her first work in Seventeen Magazine while still in highschool.
“I used to speak in poetry. I would read poems, and I would memorize them. People would say, well what do you think, Audre. What happened to you yesterday? And I would recite a poem and somewhere in that poem would be a line or a feeling I would be sharing. In other words, I literally communicated through poetry. And when I couldn’t find the poems to express the things I was feeling, that’s what started me writing poetry, and that was when I was twelve or thirteen.”
- Audre Lorde
She went on to earn a BA from hunter college and a MLS from Columbia University. She worked as a librarian in the New York school system through the 60's and then began teaching as in-poet residence at Tougaloo College in 1972. This is also when she met her longtime partner Frances Clayton.
Her experiences with finding her place in white academia as a queer, Black woman served as inspiration for her works.
Who Said It Was Simple
BY AUDRE LORDE
There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.
Sitting in Nedicks
the women rally before they march
discussing the problematic girls
they hire to make them free.
An almost white counterman passes
a waiting brother to serve them first
and the ladies neither notice nor reject
the slighter pleasures of their slavery.
But I who am bound by my mirror
as well as my bed
see causes in colour
as well as sex
and sit here wondering
which me will survive
all these liberations.
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madameaug · 7 months
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Don't Shut Me Out || JJK x OC
Pairing: Semi Non-idol Jungkook x Non-celebrity Jennette
WC: 3.3k >
Context: Losing anyone can be hard, but even harder when that person is your best friend. Grief takes many forms, and everyone has their own timeline to heal. Jungkook is no different. With the loss of his best friend, he finds himself shutting everyone close to him out.
Warning: mentions of death, angst, alcohol, blood, bullying
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Iron Haven was the number one place for organized fights. It was the same place that Jungkook trained and fought at. Jungkook, as a fighter, was gaining more attention as he defeated stronger opponents. On the days leading up to a match, Iron Haven was the only place Jennette could truly look at her boyfriend. He ate, slept, and breathed the gym. Tonight was a special night for two reasons.
One is that Jungkook's parents were in town to watch him fight. This would be the first time they would watch their son work magic in the ring. It must have come as a shock seeing their, quiet- big-eyed, child become this powerhouse. Roundhouse kicking opponents and delivering painful cracks to their jaws.
The second reason is that the boxing legend Charles "Lucky Punch" Young would be in attendance. Charles was a brawler who was strategic in the ring. He was a reining champ in the South East for four years straight. Now that he was retired, he scouted for boxers to train and mentor. An opportunity that had Jungkook's name written all over it.
Jennette had picked up Jungkook's parents and had just arrived at Iron Haven. The parking lot was full, and foreign cars were lined out beside each other. Jennette parked towards the back of the building. She led his parents to the family entrance of the gym, and they sat near the front of the ring.
Murmurs of the audience circulated around Jennette. All of them were discussing the fighters and who they believed was going to win. Many doubted Jungkook's capabilities. Jennette wanted to turn around and stick up for Jungkook, but she didn't. She knew how hard he had been training the past month. Jungkook's actions would speak for themselves.
The lights dimmed and the stage lights swung as the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers. The crowd yelled, cheering for their favorite fighter. Jungkook's opponent came out first. Nigel Cruz. He was tall and muscular. Beads of sweat already collecting along his hairline as he bounced lightly. His nose was bulky, with a thin bandaid over the bridge, hinting at the amount of times it may have been broken. His gloves were black with light gold along the wrist straps. They also matched the shorts he was wearing.
Nigel scanned Jungkook was a hawk, as Jungkook removed his dark-colored hoody. Physically speaking, Jungkook was on par with Nigel. Jungkook's parents cheered in Korean for their son.
"Fighting!"
Jungkook smirked, recognizing their voices. He controlled his breathing, not allowing himself to get to worked up. He had to stay out of his own head when he was fighting. Watch his opponent closely, and do not give out his moves too soon. He had to keep his face pretty for Jennette.
Tapping gloves the match officially began. Nigel threw fake jabs, trying to get Jungkook to flinch. But Jungkook was ready, not letting the taunts get to him. He was cool as a cucumber. In a quick second, Jungkook hit Nigel with a left hook, temporarily disorienting Nigel. He touched his lip, feeling the blood swell in his lip. Jungkook's expression remained neutral as the crowd roared at the first punch.
The men kept throwing solid body punches at each other, each making Jennette feel queasy. This was the part of Jungkook's job that she hated. Watching someone you care about take these blows that any regular person would curl over. Her stomach jumped with each punch Jungkook received.
The first two rounds passed by, and Jungkook's mother excused herself walking away from the ring. Jungkook was fed water by his coach and dapped the minor blood stains on his face. His eyes traveled to where he saw Jennette and his father sitting. Both of them give him a thumbs up. He didn't have time to question where his mother went before the break ended and it was time to face Nigel again.
Jungkook's mother returned to the stand with a somber facial expression. She spoke to her husband, and soon, his face was heavy with many emotions. It didn't take a mind-reader to know that something bad had happened. Jennette wanted to inquire what was wrong but decided it was better for her to mind her business. At the next minute break, Jungkook's mother darted up and went to the ring, on the side closest to Jungkook.
Jennette couldn't decipher the message all that well, as her Korean was still elementary. Whatever the message was, Jungkook grew a look of concern. Jungkook spoke fast as if he was in a panic. A facial expression Jennette had never seen Jungkook have in a long time. Jungkook's parents excused themselves as they left the stand.
Clearly occupied, Nigel started gaining the upper hand in the fight. He had a little over 30 pounds and three inches on Jungkook when he started to pummel him. Jungkook held his hands over his face to brace the beat-down Nigel was giving him. The referee separated the two, and the purple bruise marks littered Jungkook's outer forearm.
Literally on the edge of her seat, Jennette clung to the metal bench she sat on. She winced at the blow Nigel gave to Jungkook's ribs. It was getting hard to watch. Saved by the bell, Jungkook picked himself up and sat on the chair. His coach yelled at his face, slight specks of spit coming out of his mouth. Jungkook wiped the blood trickling down his nose. The pep talk seemed to have worked, as Jungkook became merciless with his attacks.
In a sudden gust of momentum, Jungkook tackled Nigel to the ground. Stradling the bigger man, Jungkook wound his fists back before striking him repeatedly. Aggression was seeping out of Jungkook. He was like an animal, as blood splattered across the mat. Going on for far enough, the referee stepped in to get Jungkook off of Nigel. Before he could be fully pulled off of Nigel, Jungkook combo-punched him in the chest. A painful gasp of air left Nigel. The knockout timer commenced, giving Nigel ten quick seconds to get up before Jungkook would be declared the winner. In a look of disappointment, Nigel's coach held his head low as the referee lifted Jungkook's hand. Declaring him the winner of tonight's fight. Like a bat out of hell, Jungkook ducked under the ring.
"Jungkook, wait up!" Jennette huffed, catching up to Jungkook outside. But Jungkook was on autopilot. He slipped on his hoody and sweatpants before walking up to his parents. The three of them spoke Korean, leaving Jennette out of the conversation. The conversation was tense. Jungkook tossed his father his car keys as Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Jungkook what's happening?" Jennette spoke softly. One of his eyes was bloodshot red, with a purple bruise above his eyebrow forming. She was sure underneath his hoody, more bruises would make their appearance.
"I can't talk right now."
"We always talk to each other."
Jungkook held back a frustrated growl. "Baby, I'm serious. I can't really talk right now. An emergency came up, and I need to deal with it."
"I can help you deal with it. You don't have to deal with it alone. I'm here for you." Jennette held his face gently, not wanting to touch a sore spot. She tracked Jungkook's eyes, taking in his body language. His eyes were looking away from hers, looking over at the car his parents were sitting in.
"I really have to go, Jennette." With a quick peck to her forehead, Jungkook jogged over to the car. The tires squealed from how fast Jungkook sped off from the parking lot. Leaving Jennette standing there with plenty more questions than answers.
--
Jungkook woke up in his childhood bedroom looking at the old posters loosely hanging on the wall. It was like he was in a time capsule and was in the past. His model car collection in glass on top of his bookshelf, filled with comics and manga. His comforter was black with grey sheets as an ode to the brief 'punk rock' phase that he had when he was just sixteen years old. Turning his head to the right, he watched his curtains slightly flap due to the wind. The sun was preparing to rise, creating an aesthetically pleasing orange and pink skyline.
Ever since he left Georgia, Jungkook felt like he was moving slower than the world around him. Gravity's force seemed more powerful, ensuring Jungkook felt grounded to the Earth. His body felt heavy like he was lugging around bricks on his back. And it had nothing to do with the fight from two nights ago. Jungkook lifted his phone to see the missed calls from Jennette. He sighed before putting his phone back on the bed, face down.
He knew how he left Georgie was less than ideal, but he simply didn't have time to explain what was happening. Pieces of the puzzle were moving so quickly that keeping her in the dark was just easier. Right now he needed to go the hospital. Hopefully, the doctors will have a positive report on Jihyun's condition.
Meanwhile, back in Georgia, Jennette woke up alone, yet again in her bed. Missing Jungkook by her side. They were avid cuddlers in bed. Jennette faced Jungkook's chest and intertwined her legs in between his. Her arms embraced him and held his shoulders while Jungkook wrapped around her waist. Jennette loved this position so she could wake up first thing in the morning and see Jungkook resting so peacefully. He was the same face she wanted to see before she went to bed first thing when she woke up.
She didn't understand why she was getting this cold-shoulder treatment from Jungkook. This was the longest that the couple had gone without communicating with each other. Jennette would even accept a one-word response from him. Something. Anything. All she knew was that Jungkook made it safely to his parent's house, and that information came from the 'Find my iPhone' app. She dipped her tea bag in the hot water, watching for his notification. Disappointment settles in when the notification never comes.
---
"Jungkook, you can come in now." A nurse stood in front of him. Her hands were clasped in front of her stomach. Jungkook followed quietly behind her. He stood before the room where his friend laid in a coma due to his heart's critical condition. Yet his exterior looked so normal. His hair was styled and parted. The skin was still clear and smooth. Jihyun looked like he was sleeping. If Jungkook better matched the description of someone in critical condition.
"It's not like you to sleep in, Jihyun. Should probably lay off the Soju." Jungkook closed the door behind him, giving him privacy with his beloved friend. He had heard on the internet that talking to loved ones regularly it stimulates the brain.
"I brought something." Lifting up his old high school yearbook.
Just as he opened the first page, a Polaroid slipped out of it. The picture showed Jungkook as a scrawny freshman, sporting his awkward-length bowl cut. It covered his eyes most days, and he frequently had to move the strands out of his face.
Jungkook analyzed his baby face. His eyes were so big, with a shine of youth and innocence in them. He was in his school uniform, standing alongside his buddy Jihyun. Jihyun was one of the few people who spoke to Jungkook. They first met at a convenience store, where Jungkook had learned that Jihyun attended the same school but was also his senior. With difficulties making friends, Jungkook clung to Jihyun.
Jihyun didn't mind. Jungkook was like the little brother he never had. They had similar interests and lived two streets down from each other. Sometimes, he takes Jungkook to dance practice with future bandmates. Things turned for the worse when Jihyun graduated and enlisted in the military. Jungkook was yet again alone, but now with a target on his back. He would become the latest victim of bullying by the ex-girlfriend of Jihyun and her group of friends. Why Jungkook was selected for the constant harassment was simple enough. Jungkook was the closest remnant of Jihyun, so hurting him indirectly hurted Jihyun. One could reason.
But sometimes bullies can smell weakness. Appearing 'weak' is how prey reveals themselves to predators. With Jihyun gone, the predators were crawling down Jungkook's back.
With no defense mechanism handy, Jungkook was left at the mercy of his bullies. The mental hazing that he went through was a test of endurance. Pieces of his dignity were stripped away from him. Every day he dealt with threats of physical harm. Promises of welts on his body and facial disfigurement. But nothing would truly compare to the emotional damage Jungkook desperately tried to fight off. Thoughts of worthlessness crept its ugly head in Jungkook's thoughts. It got to the point where the bullies no longer needed to torment him. He was tormenting himself and knew what buttons to press to do serious damage.
Somedays, Jungkook wish they would just inflict the beating. The pain would disappear, and the scars would heal. But the constant battle in his mind would be irreversible. Jungkook lost himself in that time. The loss of his innocence stung his eyes as he placed down the picture and flipped through his yearbook. He didn't realize how often he appeared throughout the pages. The light in his eyes was gone in each picture. His heart ached, reliving some of those painful moments.
Black text caught his attention as he was about to put down the yearbook. Inside the blank pages contained the handwriting of his good friend Jihyun.
Hi Jungkookie
I wonder how long it will take for you to find this. You looked pretty bummed out at your graduation party. Why the long face? I would tell you this to your face, but I'm pretty good at reading when people want to be left alone. Your mother told me you had a rough time in high school after I left. I am always here for you when you need me.
Jungkook could easily hear the gruff Busan accent Jihyun had as he read the brief passage. He wished he had found this note all those years ago. He looked longingly at his friend, wishing that he was awake. Wishing that he will get well soon.
----
Meanwhile, Jennette was just at a standstill. The distance between her and Jungkook was widening in a way that was more than physical. She was checking his location like clockwork. Noticing that he only went to one of two places. His parent's house, and a hospital ten miles from his parent's house. That was it. Jungkook hadn't reached out to her since. She had no option but to contact one of Jungkook's good friends, Jimin.
"Jennette? It is so good to hear from you. How is everything?" The morning voice was present in his voice. Jennette looked at the time, instantly remembering the thirteen-hour time difference. It was 5:00 a.m. in Seoul.
"Things are fine."
"Something troubling you?"
Jennette pressed her lips together, questioning whether she should confide Jungkook's recent behavior in Jimin. It wasn't typical for either of them to go running to their friends whenever an issue occurred in their relationship. They both shared the philosophy that the ins and outs of their relationship should be kept between themselves. But with Jungkook withdrawing himself from Jennette, she needs outside help. Help from the people who knew Jungkook just as well as she did.
So Jennette confided in Jimin. Letting him in on his anti-social attitude the past couple of days. Jimin was extremely informative in recapping the relationship between Jihyun and Jungkook. Explaining how influential Jihyun was in rebuilding Jungkook's self-esteem after high school.
Jennette sat on the other end of the phone, just gobsmacked. In the early stages of their relationship, when they were just friends, Jungkook described his childhood as peaceful and easy-going. He told her fond stories of high school, taking taekwondo lessons after school, and hanging out with Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Taehyung. She wished Jungkook was here right now; she would take him into her arms and squeeze him tight.
She saw the first-hand effects of bullying on children and young teens. Whether the aggressor is the victim's peer or parent. The mental and emotional lashes that it leaves are indescribable.
"I assume Jungkookie is attending the funeral."
"I guess so, too. He didn't tell me where he was going in Korea. Just because it was an emergency and he was needed there."
"I plan on attending the funeral in a few hours. I will talk to Jungkook. Don't worry." Jennette could tell that Jimin was smiling. She thanked him before hanging up the phone. She knew what she needed to do now.
--
Jihyun's condition didn't get better after Jungkook visited him. He stayed in his room for four hours, retelling stories that only they knew. Stories that would be the only thing Jungkook would be able to hold onto, now that Jihyun had officially passed. Yesterday around 5:00pm Jihyun's heart rate started slowing down. Til it finally gave out, he was pronounced dead twelve short minutes later. Now Jungkook sat on a park bench in the graveyard where Jihyun was buried.
He replayed the events leading up to Jihyun's death. His mother told him about his heart attack while he was in the ring. Jihyun being placed in a medically induced coma to slow down the effects of the heart attack. Hence, the doctors asked for all loved ones to be present. As his temporary stable condition would not last long.
But he was grateful that he was present to watch him take his last breath. But the loss of a good friend would take more than just a few days to heal from.
Jungkook cried harder, each sob coming from the bottom of his heart. He'd never experienced a loss this great before. He had no idea about Jihyun's heart condition. He was healthy last year at his birthday party. Drinking happily and telling stories from his earlier years in the military. Now he was buried in his families graveyard, on the opposite side of reality.
In the moment of pain, he turned to a nasty habit. A habit he put down when he moved in with Jennette two years ago. Jennette. He wished that she was here at the moment. Regret settling into his stomach. A week and, he had not talked to his baby. Not that he was very open to the communication of his end.
His finger hovered over her contact, blowing out cigarette smoke. He contemplated what she would say if she saw him right now. Seeing him in such a vulnerable spot, not the goofy, charismatic boyfriend she grew to love. In mere seconds, Jennette picked up the phone. The phone angled below her face.
"Hey baby, it's me." Jungkook smiled at his phone. Missing the scent of her natural hair products that he grew so accustomed to.
"You have no idea how hard things have been lately."
"Tell me, bug, I'm all ears." Like the good listener that she is Jennette opened her ears but, more importantly, her heart to Jungkook. Just listening to him speak, she could hear how much his heart ached. She also noticed the stream of smoke coming out of his mouth occasionally.
"I really wish you were here. I didn't realize I was this co-dependent." Jungkook chuckled.
With perfect timing, Jennette slipped her arms around Jungkook's shoulders. Her face affectionally touched his cheek.
"Well, what if I was?"
Holding onto her arms tightly, Jungkook embraced the hug. Jennette was the first to let go. Quickly taking the cigarette out of his hands, and stomping it out.
"C'mon. Let's go for a walk." She held her hand out for Jungkook to accept.
"You can always talk to me. I'm always here for you."
A/N: Took me longer than expected to write this (my bad)
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bubbliebabbie · 3 months
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I’m currently writing a book.My first to be exact . I didn’t want to say anything at first but if you guys like new books and would love to follow my TikTok teasing my book, it would be great ! It will have six chapters unless I decide other wise. The name will be revealed when the book is finished and has a set date. Until then, I will just be teasing the characters and quotes from the book. Any questions can be asked below or on the official page. I will post mostly everyday on there. 🖋️💕💕… Thank you for your support if you do choose to follow.
The main characters name is Aira Moon & her love interest is Dawn Wolfe… 🥀🥀
General Summary : In the midst of grieving her grandmother who just passed. Aira Moon takes life by the hand and goes on a date with her neighbor who isn’t her type, or who at-least she thinks isn’t her type. She uses this date to navigate her mental and emotional state of dealing with her grandmothers passing, love, and who she is entirely.
Six chapters 🥀
P.S.- More chapters maybe added 🥀
@casualhedonists @etfrin
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tabney2023 · 11 months
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Queen Charlotte, a Bridgerton Story on Netflix. Young Queen Charlotte Portrayed by India Amarteifio. Older Queen Charlotte Portrayed by Golda Rosheuvel.
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tamgolden · 10 months
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Why I'm Giving Up Traditional Publishing
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I’ve been creating stories in my head before I could form words, and I’ve written them down since I could properly hold a pencil. I had always dreamed of signing a publishing contract and seeing my book in my favorite place on earth: the bookstore.
As I grew up, the dream seemed less and less attainable. I needed to get a real job with a 401(k). I didn’t think writing would pay my bills. I stopped writing, focused on my office job, and completed my bachelor’s degree. But still, the dream lingered. I first started to scratch that writing gift again by writing fanfiction. It was a great way to jump in with characters already formed. I didn’t have to overthink characterization and intricate plots. I could just write. I was home again. Through writing this fanfiction, I made some online writer friends who were excellent writers, and we started to think we could do this writing thing for real.
Read the rest of the article on Medium here.
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toast-com · 1 month
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Everyone should go read a book by Octavia E. Butler! She was a black sci-fi writer and as someone who's read two of the three books in her series, Lilith's Brood, it's an amazing series.
Her books have such a interesting vibe to them, they are very good.
As a black women myself it always inspires me when I read works by black writers (I have my older sister to thank for that she would give us classics to read and she gave me Beloved).
Everyone should also read Beloved by Toni Morrison and I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou.
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strvngevsvngels · 1 month
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From Annie John by Jamaica Kincaid
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deadassdiaspore · 1 year
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profeminist · 2 years
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Janine's boyfriend - who she supports financially - in "Abbot Elementary" show: "You know I'm a feminist. That's why I let you pay for all my stuff, and ---"
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brightandshiney · 6 months
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Toward A Black Feminist Criticism by Barbara Smith excerpt from, Mouths of Rain: An Anthology of Black Lesbian Thought // Briona Simone Jones
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originalbydondria · 27 days
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...like the omen
I am not here
I am clearly not
I could cry
Fill a mug
And it would empty
To you
But the age would strip cup
Alchemize it to glass
I am not here
I am clearly not
The crawl over my skin
The deep rooted knots
An illusion of the worst kind
Pain so crippling
But you dont believe it
I am not here
I am clearly not
Unless I leave for good
Now you have these thoughts
Lies I suspect
Because I cant reply back
To remind you of your silence
And your lack
The empty responses
"You'll be alright"
But all of the sudden
You knew something wasnt right
Oh now you care
Or you wish you were there
Or I'd come to you
Like I wasnt right there
I am not here
Clearly I am not
In the dark I drown
In the brown I rot
I lacked the desire to mask
You feign fear to ask
I reached out my hand
The side you can see
Funny how seen the unseen
Can be
Until seeing is noticing
Humanity
I am not here
I am clearly not
D. Ondria
03022024
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