#⌜ your funeral; my trial. ⌟ prose.

[moonshinesapphic]

So you were disappointed in Throne of Glass...

 (DISCLAIMER: This post does not intend to offend anyone who loves ToG. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions and likes and dislikes and is allowed to express that. This post is meant to share books that have similar qualities to ToG for people who were disappointed in the series, like myself, but anyone who does like ToG can absolutely find great recs here! However, if you don’t want to hear anything ToG critical I recommend skipping over this post. Thank you!)

So last week I finally got rid of all my ToG books. I was mostly relieved that I now have more room on my bookshelf but I also felt a little sad. It was a series I really enjoyed when I first read it two years ago, and on some level it will always have a special place for me. It was one of the many books that got me back into reading after a five year slump, it’s the reason I became friends with the wonderful Nicole (@/rainbowbooktheif on Instagram) who was the first person irl to make me feel less alone as a bookish nerd, and it, unintentionally, helped me hone my critical reading skills. However, I slowly began to care less and less for the story and characters as the series progressed and ended up not reading the last two books because I just stopped caring. I wondered why a series that I loved so much in the beginning went down hill so fast for me, but in the process of falling out of love with ToG I realized I wasn’t the only one who felt this way about the series! The lack of diversity (and misrepresentation/mistreatment of diverse characters when they were there), sexism, lazy editing and lackluster world building, among other things, came up many times for me and other former ToG fans when discussing why we became disappointed in the series. But the pitch for the book (badass morally gray assassin taking down a tyrant king for her freedom, so cool!) and some of the elements (romance, female friendships, magic, trials) sounded so amazing even though in the end it was executed poorly. So, I decided to compile a list of books that I have read and loved that have some elements and themes of ToG. This list is by no means exhaustive and is limited by the books that I have read (which is not many when you look at how many books exist in the world) so I would love to see your recommendations! Please feel free to add onto this post any recs that you have! Now onto the list!

1) Graceling by Kristin Cashore

I read this book the summer before I started ToG and completely loved it. It was one of the early books that got me back into reading and it was honestly the perfect book for that. It was exciting and I couldn’t put it down. It follows an assassin for a tyrannical king who begins to realize her own gifts for killing are more then she ever thought they could be. Cashore does a fantastic job developing the lead character Katsa and the ways that she dolls out information to the readers slowly is impeccable. While this book is technically the first in a trilogy of books taking place in the Graceling world, it can be read as a standalone fantasy (which I feel like are very rare). Another part of this book that I really loved was the romance. I usually don’t read very many straight romances (due to the sexist/problematic aspects many of the ones that I’ve read have) but the relationship between Katsa and Po is honestly a breath of fresh air when you’re used to a lot of toxicity and sexism with cishet romances in books. The two take care of each other and their relationship is very balanced. There are no gender roles pushed on either of them and they truly grow to become a team throughout the story and it’s wonderful to see! I would consider Katsa and Po, while canonically cis (there isn’t any explicit queer rep in this book), both quite androgynous characters who often express themselves in a fluid manner which I really appreciate. Over all this is an amazing classic YA fantasy that everyone should check out!

Synopsis: “Katsa has been able to kill a man with her bare hands since she was eight—she’s a Graceling, one of the rare people in her land born with an extreme skill. As niece of the king, she should be able to live a life of privilege, but Graced as she is with killing, she is forced to work as the king’s thug.

She never expects to fall in love with beautiful Prince Po.

She never expects to learn the truth behind her Grace—or the terrible secret that lies hidden far away . . . a secret that could destroy all seven kingdoms with words alone.

With elegant, evocative prose and a cast of unforgettable characters, debut author Kristin Cashore creates a mesmerizing world, a death-defying adventure, and a heart-racing romance that will consume you, hold you captive, and leave you wanting more.”

2) Three Dark Crowns by Kendare Blake

This book is the first in a five book series about three royal sisters raised to battle it out for the throne. I must admit the first book in the series is a little lackluster due to the fact that it’s setting up a lot but the second book just blows everything out of the water in a fantastic way. This series is dark and bloody and intriguing. I got completely hooked on this series and it brought out a lot of emotion to the point where I was gasping and shouting and throwing my book around as I was reading it (I got very invested)! I think that’s one of the things SJM can do well is get you hooked on her characters and Kendare can do the same (if not better). I love the dynamic between the sisters, this book does a great job at exploring the darker side of familial and female/female relationships (mostly platonic.. there isn’t very much queer rep unfortunately) that I really appreciate. The magic system and wolrdbuliding are also something that I enjoyed and I though was quite well done. Kendare does a good job at weaving in worldbuilding and magic system seamlessly into the story and I love that so much. Three Dark Crowns is just a fun and exciting series that I think anyone who loves fantasy YA should check out!

Synopsis: “ In every generation on the island of Fennbirn, a set of triplets is born—three queens, all equal heirs to the crown and each possessor of a coveted magic. Mirabella is a fierce elemental, able to spark hungry flames or vicious storms at the snap of her fingers. Katharine is a poisoner, one who can ingest the deadliest poisons without so much as a stomachache. Arsinoe, a naturalist, is said to have the ability to bloom the reddest rose and control the fiercest of lions.

But becoming the Queen Crowned isn’t solely a matter of royal birth. Each sister has to fight for it. And it’s not just a game of win or lose…it’s life or death. The night the sisters turn sixteen, the battle begins.

The last queen standing gets the crown. “

3) The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon

So a little disclaimer, this book is one of my favorite fantasy books of all time. I read it over the span of a few months last summer (its a long one guys...800+ pages) and it was one of the greatest, most well thought out fantasy books I’d ever had the pleasure of reading. I loved the characters, the world, the plot, the magic system etc. I loved everything! There’s some great political intrigue, dragon riders, epic battles, prophecies, weddings, funerals, romance and just general badassery and kickassery happening. Shannon clearly put so much time and effort into this book and it shows. That kind of dedication that shows is something that I really appreciate in a book, especially a fantasy book. Another aspect that I loved so so much is the diversity in this book. It came so naturally and didn’t at all feel like tokenism. The characters, with their differing genders, ethnicities, sexualities, ages, and nationalities etc, and their relationships with each other are truly what made the story. This book also has one of the BEST f/f romances I’ve ever read (as a queer woman I really loved that representation so much and felt very connected to both of those characters). Priory is a long one but if you have the time I highly recommend it.

Synopsis: “ A world divided. A queendom without an heir. An ancient enemy awakens.

The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction – but assassins are getting closer to her door.

Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic.

Across the dark sea, Tané has trained to be a dragonrider since she was a child, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel.

Meanwhile, the divided East and West refuse to parley, and forces of chaos are rising from their sleep. “

4) Truthwitch by Susan Dennard

As a queer woman, I’m always a little on edge when someone mentions f/f friendship in a book. This is entirely because of the erasure many many f/f romances experience when they are just brushed off as friendships (we’ve all heard the term “gal pals”). It’s frustrating and even though I love a good f/f friendship when the f/f romances get erased and replaced by friendships it gets exhausting. However, Truthwitch is a true f/f friendship that I can fully get behind! Dennard is an author that I had been following for writing tips for a while before I finally picked up her book. I knew that she’s someone who is invested in making her series diverse, even if she herself doesn’t fit into those categories, and accepts criticism because she want’s to do her characters justice. That’s something I really appreciate seeing from white cishet authors and is one of the reasons I picked up Truthwitch. It’s so much fun and the heart of the story truly is the relationship between the two leads Safi and Iseult. Their friendship reminds me a lot of my relationship with my friends. Books about f/f relationships (romantic or otherwise) are few and far between so I really love that this book exists. Strong platonic relationships are so often pushed aside for cishet romantic ones so it’s SO refreshing to see a series where the book would not exist without Safi and Iseult’s bond. They are truly soulmates and their relationship with each other is the most important one in their lives and that is just beautiful. Not to mention this book has got an awesome magic system and is building up to an amazing fantasy series! There’s pirates, priestesses, princes and, of course, witches! It’s loads of fun all around!

Synopsis: “ Young witches Safiya and Iseult have a habit of finding trouble. After clashing with a powerful Guildmaster and his ruthless Bloodwitch bodyguard, the friends are forced to flee their home.

Safi must avoid capture at all costs as she's a rare Truthwitch, able to discern truth from lies. Many would kill for her magic, so Safi must keep it hidden - lest she be used in the struggle between empires. And Iseult's true powers are hidden even from herself.

In a chance encounter at Court, Safi meets Prince Merik and makes him a reluctant ally. However, his help may not slow down the Bloodwitch now hot on the girls' heels. All Safi and Iseult want is their freedom, but danger lies ahead. With war coming, treaties breaking and a magical contagion sweeping the land, the friends will have to fight emperors and mercenaries alike. For some will stop at nothing to get their hands on a Truthwitch. “

5) Monstress by Marjorie Liu (Writer) and Sana Takeda (Illustrator) 

Another disclaimer! This book is my favorite graphic novel, period. There is really nothing like Monstress out there and I think that it’s criminally underrated. Liu and Takeda are the perfect combo of writer/artist to make this GN come together. I’m constantly in awe of the world, characters, and story Liu built and the frankly stunning art Takeda creates to go along with it. It’s steampunk and dark and dirty and beautiful. The lead character, Maika, is one of the few truly morally gray characters that I’ve read. Her decisions will make you question if you’re a good person because you still love her despite the fact that she just killed that guy... and that guy... and those other guys. This graphic novel series is very reflective of the dark animes (like Tokyo Ghoul and Castlevania) that we are seeing more recently and I personally believe Monstress would make a fantastic animated series if it were ever to get an adaption. This book has also some great representation of queer women (Maika herself is a queer, disabled, WoC). It’s totally the norm for the world and all of the lead female characters are queer, which I just love. This story has amazing woldbulding, magic, characters etc. It’ll give you everything from giant dead gods, to talking cats with multiple tails, to demonically possessed teenage girls who need to eat people. It’s honestly amazing. (I would give a major trigger warning for blood/gore so as long as you know you can handle that I think you should check it out!)

Synopsis: “ Set in an alternate matriarchal 1900's Asia, in a richly imagined world of art deco-inflected steam punk, MONSTRESS tells the story of a teenage girl who is struggling to survive the trauma of war, and who shares a mysterious psychic link with a monster of tremendous power, a connection that will transform them both and make them the target of both human and otherworldly powers. “

6) The Bridge Kingdom by Danielle L. Jensen

I never thought I would love a cishet romance as much as I love this one but here I am. The Bridge Kingdom is not really the kind of book I would normally pick up but it was on sale on kindle so I thought “why not!” And I was not disappointed. This story follows the assassin princess, Lara, who was raised to be married off to her fathers rival kingdom and kill the king. However, things get sticky when she begins to actually fall for the king and starts to realize that her father isn’t exactly who he says he is. Not only was this romance steamy as hell (this is an ADULT book folks so there are some explicit sex scenes, beware) but the world is super cool. The political intrigue was something I really enjoyed and I loved to see the world unfold from Lara’s eyes. I also totally loved Lara’s character. She’s complicated and cutthroat but ultimately want’s to do what’s right and is a character made to change and develop. I usually don’t go for that character trope that Lara fits into (beautiful and badass and despite being the MCs they somehow end up being very bland...) but Jensen managed to create a very mature and ever changing version of the YA trope that I ended up loving completely. If you love steamy fantasy romances with cool worlds and intriguing characters this is absolutely the book for you!

Synopsis: “ Lara has only one thought for her husband on their wedding day: I will bring your kingdom to its knees. A princess trained from childhood to be a lethal spy, Lara knows that the Bridge Kingdom represents both legendary evil - and legendary promise. The only route through a storm-ravaged world, the Bridge Kingdom controls all trade and travel between lands, allowing its ruler to enrich himself and deprive his enemies, including Lara's homeland. So when she is sent as a bride under the guise of fulfilling a treaty of peace, Lara is prepared to do whatever it takes to fracture the defenses of the impenetrable Bridge Kingdom.

But as she infiltrates her new home - a lush paradise surrounded by tempest seas - and comes to know her new husband, Aren, Lara begins to question where the true evil resides. Around her, she sees a kingdom fighting for survival, and in Aren, a man fiercely protective of his people. As her mission drives her to deeper understanding of the fight to possess the bridge, Lara finds the simmering attraction between her and Aren impossible to ignore. Her goal nearly within reach, Lara will have to decide her own fate: Will she be the destroyer of a king or the savior of her people? “

#the bridge kingdon #danielle l jensen #graceling #kristin cashore #monstress #sana takeda #marjorie liu #truthwitch #susan dennard #the priory of the orange tree #samantha shannon #three dark crowns #kendare blake #tog #book recomendation #book lover #booklr #book list #fantasy book #fantasy book recomendation #anti tog #queer books #queer book recs #anti sjm #bookworm #graphic novel #ya books #my post

[leonbloder]

Midwinter Blues

The great African American poet Langston Hughes had more than a few reflections on mortality in his prose and poetry.  Many months ago, I read his short little poem "Midwinter Blues," and it spoke to me, so I wrote it down.

The way my head works is that I will keep all of these snippets of quotes, poems, song lyrics, and the like in a file that I peruse almost daily until I know what I need to write about them.  

Today was the day to reflect with Hughes on life and death and this amazing poem:

Midwinter Blues

I’m gonna buy me a rosebud

An’ plant it at my back door,

Buy me a rosebud,

Plant it at my back door,

So when I’m dead they won’t need

No flowers from the store.

I have to say this is pretty much the perfect Lenten poem--especially for these early days in the season of Lent when Winter still might threaten a last-minute comeback.

And it addresses one of the most important aspects of our Lenten journey---our confrontation with our own frailty and mortality.

The speaker in this poem knows some things about life and death, and the way the world works.  First, he knows that death is inevitable, so there's no point in acting like you're going to live forever.

Today is all you've got, the speaker infers.  You can crawl into a hole, put your head in the sand, or otherwise become overwhelmed by the impermanence of things, or you can do something else.   You can live in the moment.

That leads to the next move, which is where the rubber meets the road when it comes to hope for the future in the face of our own uncertainty.

The speaker decides that the best thing he can do to reconcile with the inevitability of death is to plant a rosebud.  This reminded me of the oft-repeated quote by the 16th-century Reformer Martin Luther, who once said:

"Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree."

Like Luther, the speaker in the poem refuses to let his mortality stand in the way of his hope.  He declares that he's going to "buy me a rosebud," and "plant it at my back door," which serves as a sign and symbol of resurrection.  

The speaker plants the rosebud in hopes that those who come after him will revel in their beauty, but also so they will have the memory of his life to comfort them.  

In his own way, he is looking after his friends and family, hoping that their lives will be full and free from worry.  He hopes that even as they clip roses for his funeral, they will see them as evidence of his presence in their lives---even though he is gone.

Lent is a season full of returning.  

We return to the practices that sustained us in time of trial---prayer, spiritual practices, gathering, worship, and repentance.  And in our repentance, we return to the paths that guide us to our best and truest lives.  

And Lent is also a season of returning to the sure and certain knowledge that there is little in this life that is permanent, but what is good, beautiful, and true will last forever--no matter what form it takes.

May it be so for you today and every day from this day. And may the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you now and always. Amen.

[bookliteratibookreviews]

I can’t believe we are at the end of another year, but what a wonderful year it has been for books. In the past twelve months I have read one hundred and ten books, which is quite an achievement for me, but it has been a pleasure to read and share them with you. There have been so many fabulous books that choosing my top ten has been a difficult process, but finally I have narrowed it down, so here are my top ten reads of 2018, in no particular order.

  The Moon Sister by Lucinda Riley.  It is no secret that I am a huge fan of Lucinda Riley’s books and in particular her Seven Sisters series.  This is the fifth book, and tells the story of Tiggy and where she originally came from.  Like the previous books we travel to some wonderful places, Spain, Portugal, South America, and meet some unforgettable characters, like her great grandmother Lucia. This is a tale of love and passion, flamenco and self discovery and Lucinda Riley seamlessly weaves it all together into another perfect read.

      Tombland by C.J Sansom.  This book was the big surprise of the year for me.  Like many others I thought Lamentation was the last Shardlake novel, so I was super excited to learn of a new book.  Set three years after the previous book, Shardlake goes on business to Norwich on behalf of the Lady Elizabeth and finds himself caught up in the peasant rebellion.  With the return of many familiar characters, some memorable new ones and the impeccable attention to historical detail, this book is immersive, erudite and entertaining.

    The Clockmaker’s Daughter by Kate Morton.  I always enjoy Kate Morton’s books and for me this is her best yet. This a beautiful read in all senses; the writing, the plot, the characters and the atmosphere.  The Location of Birchwood Manor is very much a character itself, and is the focus point where all the different threads comes together.  The book centres around artist Edward Julius Radcliffe and his relationship with his muse, that all came to an end one night in 1862.  The different story lines radiate out from this one event that ended with a death and a theft.  Love, loss, art and a mystery combine to make this such a compelling read and reminds me why Kate Morton is on my list of top ten contemporary fiction authors.

  The Great Alone by Kristen Hannah.  I read this at the beginning of the year and it is a book that has stayed with me.  Ernt Albright moves his family up to Alaska to try and make a fresh start.  He is a troubled POW from the Vietnam war, who can’t hold down a job and can be violent to his wife.  In the vastness of Alaska Ernt, his wife  Cora and daughter Lent have to learn to fend for themselves.  Kristen Hannah captures the vastness and harsh reality of living in Alaska and how Ernt’s emotions mirror  the change of the seasons.  This is a powerful read full of emotion and drama.

    Thirteen by Steve Cavanagh.  Before I even got to the book, Thirteen was on my radar from the hype alone, and it didn’t disappoint.  What drew me was the premise that at the murder trial, the real murderer is on the jury. This is such a clever concept and had me gripped throughout.  This is the fourth book in the Eddie Flynn story but can be read as a standalone, which is whatI did. Thirteen is a thriller that will have you on the edge of your seat with tension until you reach the shocking final chapter.

      Cuckoo by Sophie Draper. Cuckoo had my attention from the first page and finished with me thinking WOW, and that is why it is part of this list.  We all remember the fairytales from our childhood with the wicked step-mother, naughty children getting their comeuppance, and strange occurrences, and this sums up Cuckoo.  At her step-mother’s funeral Caro reconnects with her estranged sister and moves back into their family cottage, where her step-mother died.  But whilst there she starts having flash backs to her childhood and strange occurrences happen in the house. Caro needs to understand her past, but at what cost.  This is a dark, chilling and breathtaking read.

      A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara.  A Little Life is a book that will stay with me forever, and one of the few books I have kept to read again. This was on the Booker Prize Shortlist in 2015, and in my opinion should have won.  The book follows four friends who meet at college as they go through the ups and downs life throws at them.  The writing of this book is sublime, and although it deals with some very difficult subjects, Hanya Yanagihara is able to keep the prose lyrical and a pleasure to read. This is an emotional book to read in parts, due to some of the subject matter; depression, self-harm and abuse, but it is well worth reading.  In my opinion this is a monumental novel, fiction at it’s absolute best: perfect.

  The Burning Chambers by Kate Mosse.  Kate Mosse has been one of my favourite authors  for thirteen years now so I am always excited when she releases a new book.  In The Burning Chambers Kate Mosse takes us back to Carcassone and the history of the Heugenots that were in the Labyrinth Trilogy.  This time we are in the sixteenth century during the religious wars that were the result of the Reformation in Europe.  Full of historical detail this book seamlessly blends fact and fiction to make an outstanding read.  Even more exciting is that this is the first in four books that will span three hundred years from sixteenth century France to nineteenth century South Africa and the displacement of the heugenots.  This is a must for fans of historical fiction.

  The Tattooist of Auschwitz by Heather Morris.  This was one of the most highly anticipated novels of 2018 and I think it has lived up to expectations.  Based on the lives of Lale and Gita who met at Auschwitz, this is a remarkable and thought provoking book on so many different levels.  Lale is the tattooist who marks each prisoner as they enter the camp and this post gives him some privileges that are denied other prisoners.  He obviously sees some terrible things, and has to go to incredible lengths to survive, but what stands out in this book is Lale and Gita’s self survival, their belief that they will get out of the camp and their love for each other.

    The All Souls Trilogy by Deborah Harkness.  Technically this could be seen as cheating, as it is three books, but I couldn’t just choose one.  A Discovery of Witches, Shadow of Night, and The Book of Life opened up a new literary world to me as I never read fantasy or magical books.  These books follow Diana and Matthew, a witch and a vampire, who are thrown together in the Bodleian Library when Diane calls up the enchanted manuscript Ashmole 782, that has been lost for hundreds of years.  This is the beginning of their journey across continents, a visit to Elizabethan England in the quest to unlock the secrets of the manuscript.  Deborah Harkness is an amazingly talented author, her characters come to life, her attention to detail draws you in and her historical knowledge  shines through.  I fell in love with these books and have kept them to read again.

  I am now looking forward to 2019, and already have a list of some exciting books due out in the New Year, including a new Eddie Flynn book from Steve Cavanagh, a stand alone thriller from M.J.Arlidge,  and some books by new authors; The Doll Factory by Elizabeth MacNeal and The Familiars by Stacy Halls.  Below are the ten books I am most looking forward to read.

  I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and thank you for all your support over the last year; it means such a lot to me as I am virtually housebound due to heath problems.  I look forward to sharing more book love in 2019.

                                          Top Ten Reads Of 2018 and a look forward to 2019 I can't believe we are at the end of another year, but what a wonderful year it has been for books.

[glittership]

Episode #60 — "Unstrap Your Feet" by Emma Osborne

Download episode. 

And here’s the RSS feed: http://glittership.podbean.com/feed/

Episode 60 is a GLITTERSHIP ORIGINAL and is part of the Spring 2018 issue!

Support GlitterShip by picking up your copy here: http://www.glittership.com/buy/

      Unstrap Your Feet

by Emma Osborne

    The mud on your legs covers you from knees to toes so I can’t quite tell where the soft leather of your boots meets your flesh until blood blooms from your ankles.

I offer you wine. You take a long sip and hand me back the glass as you unstrap your feet. Your hooves shine as you toss your humanity into a pile by the door.

You sniff the air. You take in the saffron, the lemon, the scorch of sage.

“Darling,” you say. “I thought I told you I was sick of fish?”

You did, but that was a year ago and I thought we’d come around to it again. My eyes linger on your slim patterns. They’re thin like a doe’s legs; one good crack with a cricket bat would bring you down.

  [Full story after the cut.]

  Hello! Welcome to GlitterShip Episode 60! This is your host, Keffy, and I’m super excited to share this story with you. Today we have a GlitterShip original, “Unstrap Your Feet” by Emma Osborne and a poem, “The Librarian” by Rae White.

Both pieces are part of the new GlitterShip issue that is now available. The Spring 2018 issue of GlitterShip is available for purchase at glittership.com/buy and on Kindle, Nook, and Kobo. If you’re a Patreon supporter, you should have access to the new issue waiting for you when you log in. The new issue is only $2.99 and all of our back issues are now $1.49.

GlitterShip is also a part of the Audible Trial Program. This means that just by listening to GlitterShip, you are eligible for a free 30 day membership on Audible, and a free audiobook to keep.

If you’re looking for an excellent book with queer characters, Rivers Solomon’s An Unkindness of Ghosts is an amazing listen. The story features a colony ship having power problems and some internal unrest. Our protagonist, Aster, is a brilliant scientist and doctor trapped in an extremely socially and racially segregated society. The book also deals with non-neurotypicality, intersex, and fluid/questioning gender identity. An Unkindness of Ghosts is part mystery, part colony ship drama, and part coming of age story (though it is not YA). Rivers has amazing prose, and the narration in this audio book sets it off wonderfully.

To download An Unkindness of Ghosts for free today, go to www.audibletrial.com/glittership — or choose another book if you’re in the mood for something else.

There are content warnings on this episode for a very, very sexy poem and descriptions of domestic emotional abuse in “Unstrap Your Feet.”

    Rae White is a non-binary poet, writer, and zinester living in Brisbane. Their poetry collection Milk Teeth won the 2017 Arts Queensland Thomas Shapcott Poetry Prize and is published by the University of Queensland Press. Rae’s poem ‘what even r u?’ placed second in the Overland Judith Wright Poetry Prize. Rae’s poetry has been published in Meanjin Quarterly, Cordite Poetry Review, Overland, Rabbit, and others.

    The Librarian

by Rae White

    locked in ∞ nostalgia after dark ∞ thumb through favourites: nin-like erotica ∞ with storms simulating hunger, flirting & fireworks, cruise ship kisses ∞ here, every heel

click is echo-church, like the ruckus I make at funerals ∞ every movement casts my shadow: spells spilling over bookshelves ∞ I’m not trapped, I have a key ∞ but I stay curled in the wicker chair ∞ waiting

for echo-click of ribs and what remains ∞ the flossed fragments of my midnight ghost with her yawn-wide kiss & skinless skull ∞ her cartilage grip & gasp & pelvic bone clasped tight to my thigh ∞ her shiver-glitches, each more grating & copper-tasting than the last ∞ her brittle pushes as she groans ∞ against my knuckled hand ∞ I taste soot & swordfish

later ∞ I press her between folds of wildflower books & sing timidly of the moon as she sleeps

      Emma Osborne is a queer fiction writer and poet from Melbourne, Australia. Emma’s writing has appeared in Shock Totem, Apex Magazine, Queers Destroy Science Fiction, Pseudopod, the Review of Australian Fiction and the Year’s Best Australian Fantasy and Horror, and has fiction forthcoming at Nightmare Magazine.

A proud member of Team Arsenic, Emma is a graduate of the 2016 Clarion West Writers Workshop. Emma is a former first reader at Clarkesworld Magazine, and current first reader at Arsenika.

Emma currently lives in Melbourne, drinking all of the coffee and eating all of the food, but has a giant crush on Seattle and turns up under the shadow of the mountain at every opportunity. You can find Emma on Twitter at @redscribe.

    Unstrap Your Feet

by Emma Osborne

    The mud on your legs covers you from knees to toes so I can’t quite tell where the soft leather of your boots meets your flesh until blood blooms from your ankles.

I offer you wine. You take a long sip and hand me back the glass as you unstrap your feet. Your hooves shine as you toss your humanity into a pile by the door.

You sniff the air. You take in the saffron, the lemon, the scorch of sage.

“Darling,” you say. “I thought I told you I was sick of fish?”

You did, but that was a year ago and I thought we’d come around to it again. My eyes linger on your slim patterns. They’re thin like a doe’s legs; one good crack with a cricket bat would bring you down.

“I want to eat something warm-blooded,” you say, as you divest yourself of your coat, your scarf. “Ribs. A steak. Liver.”

You smell of honey and rosemary; honey for sweetness and rosemary for fidelity, remembrance and luck. I wonder how long it’ll take to re-make dinner.

Too long.

My fingers tangle in my pocket, deep down where you shouldn’t be able to see. Maybe I can talk you around. Your eyes sketch over my shoulder, my elbow. You can see the tension in my muscles, can map my posture and my heart rate and you know that my nails are digging into my palms nearly before I feel the skin split.

“We’ll order something,” I say, but it’s risky to have something delivered to the door when you’ve taken off your feet. Once, somebody saw, and then they didn’t ever see anything again. There’s still a stain in the laundry that I can’t scrub away. 

You pause for a moment, just for the pulse of a few seconds, but it’s enough for my stomach to plunge and my mind to spin out infinite possibilities. The end of each thread is a broken finger or a pair of shattered wine glasses or just a cool, detached look that I’ll turn over and over in my head at night, knowing that despite our vows, sealed with blood and smoke and iron, you’ve decided that you’re going to have to kill me after all.

“Fine,” you say, “anything but pizza.”

These are the kinds of conversations that normal people have, every night, every month, with wrinkled brows and hunched shoulders and with a creased blazer hung up for another weary tomorrow.

You take your time in the shower while I call for dinner. With any luck you’ll stay there, or in the bedroom, until the delivery comes.

I’ve decided on BBQ from the place three streets away. They don’t ask questions if we order mostly meat, although I add a couple of sides—mac and cheese and some fries—for show. When the food arrives, I take care to open the door only a few inches, to take the bags and construct a “Thanks!” and to give a reassuring smile. I can hear you clattering around in the kitchen. I can nearly hear you scowling at the unwanted fish, scraped into a bowl for me to eat tomorrow.

I plate up dinner and you join me at the table with your canines glinting. I would have thought you’d have dull herbivore teeth, what with the hooves, but you have your father’s jawline, his bite. Sometimes I run my tongue over my own teeth, fearful that they’re sharpening and wondering what it would mean if they did. The food smells glorious, though I’m the only one who eats the sides. The mac and cheese is chewy and rich and creamy and I savor every bite after a diet so heavy in meat.

“Tell me about your day,” I say, nibbling on a forkful of pulled pork. I don’t care, not really, but it’s one of the only ways I can get news of the outside world on an ordinary, everyday level. The news is good for broad strokes, but I don’t get to hear about the lavender blooming in Mrs. Dancy’s yard or the color of the sky in midwinter dusk.

You’re in a good mood from the food so you appease me with small stories whilst you tear rich, fatty meat from a rib-bone. You’ve got a smear of sauce on your chin. The scent of hickory smoke has soaked into your skin. When I remember the days I had dared to drag my fingers through your hair, I tamp down a shudder and wonder if your budding horns rasp more like bones or fingernails.

Our wedding feast was nothing like this, but I suppose I’d always known you had secrets. Still, the feast was glorious and fine, a celebration for the ages. Oh, that night. We’d hoisted my mother’s crystal and downed the finest champagne after the ceremony under the oak tree.

My father was in charge of speeches and keeping cups full. Your mother roasted us a pair of swans. We ate them with silver forks and our fingers. There were charred potatoes and glass jars full of honey and red apples baked into pies. Bowls of cherries as bright as blood dotted the groaning tables and the air was heavy with the scent of roasted figs.

I hadn’t known then that your feet came off. I’d only known that your smile made my heart bloom like a blushing rose and that your kisses tasted of jasmine.

Your father was in charge of the music, and soon enough everyone was spinning, dancing, stamping to his wild fiddle, all red-faced and heaving, their legs shaking as they gasped for breath.

I was happy that night. Sometimes I think I can still smell it, as if happiness is a hint of perfume saved in a handkerchief that I’ve tucked into the pocket of an old coat.

You’re finished with your food so I load the dishwasher. I used to like washing the dishes by hand and carefully wiping them clean with my favorite faded red dishtowel, but we both agreed that the dishwasher is better for the environment.

It’s curious, the things you care about.

I try not to make any unnecessary noise as we wind down the hours before bed. Sometimes I can get away with reading on the couch for a few hours. If I’m almost entirely still, your eyes skip over me when you’re restlessly roaming the house, your hooves clacking on the floorboards.

I tried to get out once.

I still have the scars on my ribs from your teeth.

I try not to care what you are doing, but tonight in the basement it involves knives and the squeal of metal on metal. I can’t help but look up when you walk past the lounge room, your muscled arms popping with excited veins, your face flushed, your hair a mess.

Our eyes meet. I’m usually more careful than that, and look away, but this time I smile in my panic.

You smile back, delighted.

All I can see is your teeth.

I used to be so much bigger, so much more. I had dreams and loves and fancies; my heart was spun sugar and grace. That me is dead now, my delicate heart crushed. You have eroded me like a hard rain erodes a mountain: bit by bit; thousands of tiny strikes.

You’re cooking something in the kitchen that smells like apples and roasted flesh. It’s rare enough for you to do so, and anxiety tightens my chest as I wonder what it means. I try to tune it out, to hold my breath, but the house is full of the smell.

When you finally call me to bed, I slide a marker into my book. The pages are sharp on my fingertips.

“Goodnight, darling,” you breathe into my ear after you’ve kissed me.

“Goodnight,” I say, my eyes squeezed shut in the dark.

You know the catch of my breath when it hitches; you know the sound of my tears as they track down my cheeks. I’ve learned to lie flat and still under the smoke-gray blankets, to move only when necessary, to not roll. When I was young, I’d sleep carelessly, roaming about the bed like a slumbering explorer, one leg out at an angle and with an open palm up to the sky. These days it’s all straight lines and aching bones from a lack of shift.

Most nights, I don’t sleep. Not until you’ve gotten up and strapped your feet back on and gone into the world. When the sun peeps through the curtains and I’m sure you’ve gotten clear of the house I collapse onto the couch, tuck a blanket around me. The bed reminds me of nothing but cold misery.

Soon you’ll be home again, and we’ll feast again, smile carefully at each other over bone-white plates and French cutlery with scarlet handles.

I spend the rest of the day cleaning with vinegar and lemons. I square your sharpened tools away, grant symmetry to the house. I listen to news radio as I tidy, desperate for the sound of another human voice.

Sometimes I write on scraps of paper, on anything that will take my mark. I write about me and you, and I am sure that it reads like a fairy tale, or a biblical nightmare, or perhaps something stitched together from their forgotten parts. I can’t risk you finding my words. When I have covered every scrap of surface with truths I place the paper on my tongue, pulp it with my dull human teeth, and devour us.

I check my body over in the shower when I make it under the hot water in the sun-bright afternoon. My scars are days old, weeks old, a hundred years old. There’s nothing poking through my scalp yet, and my feet are just feet. You are the one who changed.

This evening when you come home you’re carrying something in a leather satchel that smells of blood and beeswax. You hold my eye with a wild smile as you snap it open.

Inside is a new pair of feet.

I know them because they’re my feet, right down to the cracked heels and the crooked little toes.

“These are for you,” you say, measuring my calves with your eyes and squinting at my shoes. “Now that you’re ready.”

Your eyes are sharp, loving, sparking like struck flint.

What did I do to make you think that this is what I wanted? My face twists into a grimace that you mistake for a smile.

I take the feet.

You grin like the sun coming up and slip past me into the kitchen. I merely stand, horrified but absently holding the feet that I could use to walk outside.

When you return, you’re holding a small plate heavy with warmed-up dark meat and pale apple flesh.

“Baked apples, lungs, and liver, with plenty of butter,” you say. The fruit of temptation. Organs of the breath and soul. Milk and meat.

So that’s what you were cooking.

I know my legends well enough to know that eating from this plate will change me forever. I gently place my new feet near the door next to yours and take up the silver fork.

“Let me,” you say. The last time I saw your face this bright was under the light of a thousand fireflies on our wedding day.

Refusing you has always been an impossibility.

You ease a slice of liver into my mouth. As I chew I feel my calves split like an inseam. I thought it would hurt when my old feet slid off, but you kneel before me and tug my ankles and look, they’re free and loose and bloody. It smells like a slaughterhouse in here. Blood and sharpness.

You must hold me upright as I kick out of my old feet. My new hooves haven’t hardened yet; they’re still feathery and glistening from their birth. There’s bile in my throat and I can only hope you put my wild pulse down to excitement.

You ease me onto the couch with your strong arms and kiss my forehead. I’m panicking, but I hold myself as still as I can. What have I become? What will I become?

I am nauseous but suddenly terribly hungry, for meat and flowers and fresh air. I scuff my hooves on the floor. You trace the rubbery feathers with a loving fingertip. In an hour, maybe two, my hooves will be firm and ready to encase in their disguise of flesh, and the two of us will leave the house, together.

“Darling,” you say, “What do you feel like eating?” You clasp my fingers, too tight.

“Whatever you want,” I whisper, trying desperately to keep my voice steady. You look so happy.

I’ve gotten everything wrong, everything. Yes, I will walk outside, and yes I will lift a neighbor’s rose to my eager inhale, but you will be there beside me every single second.

I laugh, unable to contain my tears.

Now it’s the whole world.

The whole world is my cage.

We go.

  END

  “The Librarian” is copyright Rae White 2018.

“Unstrap Your Feet” is copyright Emma Osborne 2018.

This recording is a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license which means you can share it with anyone you’d like, but please don’t change or sell it. Our theme is “Aurora Borealis” by Bird Creek, available through the Google Audio Library.

You can support GlitterShip by checking out our Patreon at patreon.com/keffy, subscribing to our feed, or by leaving reviews on iTunes. You can also pick up a free audio book by going to www.audibletrial.com/glittership or buying your own copy of the Spring 2018 issue at www.glittership.com/buy

Thanks for listening, and we’ll be back soon with a reprint of “To Touch the Sun Before it Fades” by Aimee Ogden.

Episode #60 — “Unstrap Your Feet” by Emma Osborne was originally published on GlitterShip

#GlitterShip #lgbtq fiction #queer fiction #short stories #science fiction and fantasy #podcast

[ricardosousalemos]

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds: Lovely Creatures: The Best of Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 1984-2014

The saga of Nick Cave didn’t begin with the Bad Seeds or the Birthday Party–not even with the man himself. Its genesis lies instead in the first chapter of Vladimir Nabokov’s 1955 novel Lolita, which Cave’s father, a high school English teacher, read aloud to him shortly after his 12th birthday inside their house in a small town in Victoria, Australia. Cave later recalled his father transforming with every recited syllable, a mortal under the spell of the written word. “I felt like I was being initiated into this secret world,” he said, “The world of sex and adulthood and art.” Cave’s naturally didn’t grasp the intricacies of Nabokov’s masterpiece at his tender age, but the young man’s encounter with Lolita’s sordid romanticism and melodic prose constituted his coming-of-age and his artistic awakening.

Cave’s new box set Lovely Creatures: The Best Of Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds is a testament to the literary soul of his music. The deluxe edition assumes the form of a case-bound, 36-page book of essays and photos (256 pages in the super deluxe edition, packaged separately), bundled alongside 3 CDs and a DVD comprising concert footage and band interviews. While technically a compilation, it’s easier to think of the release as a novel in three parts, detailing Cave’s evolution from obscure goth-rocker, to Americana deconstructor, to rock’s very own Nabokov, all while honoring the Seeds who joined him for the long, slow march to the pantheon.

Disc one details the band’s early years in the mid-'80s and early ‘90s and the growing pains therein. The seething title track to 1984’s From Her To Eternity is the perfect opening chapter; the vestiges of Birthday Party’s post-punk in its arrangement (the dread-laden piano plunks, the spooky poetry, the incessant dissonance) show that Cave and company had yet to come into their own. In time, they moved to Berlin, drifting away from rudimentary din to gothic grandeur over the span of their next five albums, whose contents comprise the bulk of the disc. Ironically, the first of these Berlin-brewed albums, The Firstborn Is Dead (1985), marked the beginnings of Cave’s love affair with Southern blues. The romance was inevitable: Howlin’ Wolf, John Lee Hooker, et al. were the original murder balladeers, tragedians strumming similar tales of blood, sweat, and sin. Accordingly, 1986’s covers album Kicking Against The Pricks (represented here by the Seeds’ take on Hooker’s “I’m Gonna Kill That Woman”) found the Seeds honoring their thematic forebears.

A few months after the tribute, Cave’s creative loci shifted yet again. Frequently regarded as the band’s opus, Your Funeral, My Trial found the Seeds welding the blues to the pre-existing, cabaret-tinged balladry of his debut, recasting the aloof artist as a funhouse-mirror version of the everyman. Consider “Scum,” the album’s seething indictment of “a miserable shit-wringing turd.” The climactic highlight is typically regarded as Cave’s clap-back at his former roommate, journalist Mat Snow (according to the Snow's account, a disgruntled Cave revealed him as the song's subject during a tense conversation following Snow’s pre-emptive criticism of The Firstborn Is Dead). Upon closer examination, however, the purported autobiography reveals itself as a condemnation of the traitor immemorial, fueled through historical allusion (“Judas, Brutus, Vitus”) and grotesque imagery (“He said that I looked pale and thin/I told him he looked fat/His lips were red and lickin’ wet/His house was roastin’ hot/In fact it was a fuckin’ slum”). With the fluid, genre-blurring, Your Funeral, My Trial, and its follow-up Tender Prey (1988), Cave challenged our notions of the blues as a static art form; its modern incarnation called for innovation, not just appropriation.

Lovely Creatures proceeds on to the band’s halcyon days in the mid ‘90s—a period that saw Cave’s apotheosis as a world-renowned auteur. Let Love In (1994) and The Boatman’s Call (1997) are the most well-represented here with four tracks apiece, and for good reason. Along with 1996’s Murder Ballads, these three albums provide the most compelling evidence for Cave’s storied reputation. Here, we observe Cave coming into his own as a storyteller, an echo of the awakening he experienced as a child. His formalistic shift from poetry to prose positions “Do You Love Me?” “Stagger Lee,” and “Red Right Hand” as metaphysical novels rather than songs, where the forces of sex and death grapple for supremacy. The spirit of the old Romantics is alive and well, too: namely, their ceaseless search for sublime love, the only solace in a world of pain. “There’s a man who spoke wonders/Though I’ve never met him,” he groans on “(Are You) The One I've Been Waiting For?” invoking Christ’s chaste wisdom as he anticipates his lovers’ arrival. Two tracks apiece from No More Shall We Part (2001) and Nocturama (2003) round out the proceedings, but their overblown drama pales in comparison to the preceding panorama, the apex of Cave’s compilation, and arguably, his entire career.

By the time their 20th anniversary rolled around in 2004, Cave and company’s primordial madness had long since cooled, earning them a heretofore unimaginable reputation among critics as a beacon of gothic melodrama. In fact, during this interim—2004 to 2013, chronicled on the final disc—the old Seeds ceased to exist. The departure of original keyboardist/guitarist Blixa Bargeld one year prior to 2004’s double album Abattoir Blues/The Lyre of Orpheus left behind an unmistakable void, particularly on the LP’s intimate latter half (“Breathless,” “Babe, You Turn Me On,” “O Children”). The void deepens with five selections from 2007’s Americana doomsday spell Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!, Harvey’s final outing with the band. It’s somewhat of an underwhelming swan song for him, considering the frequency with which Warren Ellis’ violins take center stage (most spectacularly on the LP’s haunting, hymnal eight-minute closer, “More News From Nowhere”).

Four highlights from 2013’s Push The Sky Away ("We No Who U R," "Jubilee Street," "Higgs Boson Blues," and the title track) provide a fitting conclusion to Lovely Creatures’ majestic arc: the polar opposite of “From Her To Eternity,” a profound juxtaposition. And yet, however satisfying the collection’s finale, listeners who’ve kept up with Cave in the four years following Push The Sky Away will undoubtedly walk away from the experience a bit unsettled: not because the music itself is engineered to do so, but because Cave omits Skeleton Tree–his most powerful monument to death and grief–from the Seeds saga. Perhaps, this absence is owed to timing (Lovely Creatures was in progress when Cave’s son Arthur died). Consider Skeleton Tree, then, an epilogue to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds’ triumphant journey.

All chronologies are stories by definition, but when it comes to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, such a descriptor proves laughably insufficient. Their trajectory encompasses not just a band’s career, but a perversion of the monomyth that resides in all of our brains. Instead of King Arthur or Odysseus, we have Cave, a chain-smoking, gunslinging poet who sees God in the eyes of a woman and bowls of soup; who stalks through Berlin boudoirs with heroin in his veins, daring the devil to take him by the Red Right Hand only to dodge his scythe like a stuntman; who sifts through puddles of blood and piles of money in search of meaning, only to be greeted by the void. “The spiritual quest has many faces–religion, art, drugs, work, money, sex,” he mused, addressing 1998 Vienna Poetry Festival, “but rarely does the search serve God so directly, and rarely are the rewards so great in doing.” Lovely Creatures presents the definitive display of these anguished labors and sweet fruits they bore over twenty years—an unmovable feast, immortalized.

#reviews-albums