#nonfic

[coweyed]

Gothic Mirrors and Feminine Identities - Claire Kahane

#*uploads #gothic #monstrous feminine #nonfic

[karamazovapologist]

Perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last, without frenzy, without apathy, without pretence.

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations (tr. Martin Hammond, 7.69)

#marcus aurelius #meditations #aurelius meditations #archived #short #reminder #note to self #<- still figuring out how i want to tag things don't mind me #nonfic

[days-of-reading]

Somewhere in the files of General Mills is a letter from the very-short-story writer Lydia Davis. In it, Davis, who is widely considered one of the most original minds in American fiction today, expresses dismay at the packaging of the frozen peas sold by the company’s subsidiary Cascadian Farm. The letter, like many things that Davis writes, had started out sincere and then turned weird. Details grew overly specific; a narrative, however spare, emerged. “The peas are a dull yellow green, more the color of pea soup than fresh peas and nothing like the actual color of your peas, which are a nice bright dark green,” she wrote. “We have compared your depiction of peas to that of the other frozen peas packages and yours is by far the least appealing. . . . We enjoy your peas and do not want your business to suffer. Please reconsider your art.” Rather than address her complaint, the company sent her a coupon for Green Giant.

Dana Goodyear, “Long Story Short: Lydia Davis’s Radical Fiction,” New Yorker (March 17, 2014)

#dana goodyear #lydia davis #quotidian writing #profiles #tny #nonfic #food

[readingthroughtheapocalypse]

Started reading 15/10/23.

Currently reading Noam Chomsky and Ilan Pappé’s ‘On Palestine’. It’s a reflection on the enduring Palestinian struggle and the role of the international community in addressing human rights abuses by the white supremacist state of Israel, and in light of the recent world events, the need to stand in solidarity w Palestinians has never been more critical.

Chomsky, alongside Ilan Pappé, discusses the road ahead fr Palestinians, shedding light on the historical context of their plight. They emphasise the importance of international pressure on Israel to end its human rights abuses. Overall, this dialogue resonates w the broader global conversation on justice and human rights, especially in the context of Indigenous struggles here in so-called Australia.

The parallels drawn between the Indigenous struggle in Australia and the Palestinian struggle highlight the common threads of settler colonialism, genocide, and the supremacy of certain cultures. Both Australia and Israel have complex histories rooted in colonisation, which has had profound consequences fr Indigenous populations. These logics have shaped the creation and maintenance of these nations and their treatment of Indigenous peoples.

Chomsky and Pappé’s work invites us to reflect on the shared experiences of Indigenous communities worldwide and underscores the importance of solidarity and international pressure in addressing these injustices. It also serves as a reminder that the struggles of Indigenous peoples transcend geographical boundaries, connecting those fighting fr their rights and dignity on different fronts.

I have a good feeling about this book. If you have any other recommendations of books on the Palestinian struggle, please send them my way!

#book recommendations #book recs #bookblr #bookseller #book rec #book review #booksellers of tumblr #nonfiction #nonfiction books #bookish #bookworm #current read #currently reading #🇵🇸 #book reviews #booktok #bookstagram #queer bookseller #nonfic

[jammingkambing]

Country of Nothings and the Privilege of Grief

This is the one where my tito dies. 

I remember many details about his death: like the color of his urn and how my tita placed his glasses beside a picture of him smiling. I remember some points less clearly. I know he died in the summer months of 2021, but I don’t know if he died in April or in May. And I forgot the exact words that my mom used when she told me that he had died— if she mentioned his COVID, or if I just made that connection myself.  What I remember best, though, is the grief.

Grief was quiet— which is not to say it was mild or gentle. It wasn’t. Grief was quiet, like how I’d lie down to sleep in a silent room only to remember that I couldn’t remember the last time that I talked to my tito. I’d be looking at my phone while I was waiting for class to start and my browser would be open to the very last philosopher that my tito recommended. I’d be sitting at my desk during an empty moment, and I’d realize that I had forgotten the sound of my tito’s laugh.

This feeling, more than anything, is what Alfonso Manalastas wants to memorialize in Country of Nothings. 

The poem itself is the record of a very specific period in Philippine history. The dramatic situation is set against the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic and its mounting deaths— thus the running count of fifteen hundred and one, hundred and two— joined with the shutdown of the ABS-CBN corporation. Here, then, is a Filipino who is trying to find meaning in the mismanagement of a country. Here is a persona who is trying to make sense of senseless deaths, rationalizing an irrationality and realizing what a privilege it is to still be here, to breathe and enjoy this grief. In telling this, the poem juxtaposes the story of an individual sadness with the tragedy of an entire country: Headlines looking more and more like obituaries / Staggering from their appointed places on the paper. 

This piece revolves around historicity. Every death and every pitch-black TV is caused by a national event or an international pandemic, respectively, and so the poem repeats, You recount the dead until you fumble over the math… You recount the dead until you fumble over the myth because these are not new events. This is not the first time that our country has experienced the crippling of free speech or the spread of a deadly virus, and it will not be the last, if only because history bears repetition.

However, for all that the poem is grounded in its context, its language explores the timelessness of mourning. On the streets, / more nothing. And from nothingness, you muster / nothing. The sensation of emptiness is not exclusive to the year 2020. Ever since injustice and ever since war and ever since illness, people have suffered loss and recounted the dead, but Manalastas' greatest achievement here is writing grief in the vernacular of this time and in the voice of this people while still retaining the universal numbness of death. And when they try to devour us with a hunger / so infinite, we will wholly surrender to them nothing.

So the poem ends with a surrender— which is itself a kind of silence. I find this fitting, if only because silence is another response to grief. Sitting in the dark until the numbers blur and your TV becomes static. Lying on a bed and trying to reconstruct a voice using fragments of memories. 

I'll tell you now that, in my better moments, I believe in an afterlife. I'm a Christian, which means that most of the time I like the idea of heaven and I look forward to the day when I ascend and I can finally ask my tito, Why did you leave me? And he'd give me the answer that I'm waiting for.

In my worse moments, though, I imagine asking that same question and receiving no reply. Nothing but the hum of a broken TV, and my grief left unanswered— as if to say that there are far worse things than the quiet.

A/N: The full text of Alfonso Manalastas' Country of Nothings was published in 2021 in Cha: An Asian Literary Journal over here in this link. Also, this is just my English homework. Hi, Sir Andy!

#nonfiction #nonfic #essay #mine #country of nothings #alfonso manalastas

[emberbent]

Oh wow wow wow, it's been a long time since I logged in! I'm genuinely surprised this blog has 95 followers, thank you all for sticking around :')

I did the thing most of us do where we duck out of our project for a while because life things are happening or our mental health needs our attention. At some point, I realized I was doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do, which was overexert myself trying to make this story Absolutely Perfect and think that I wasn't a good writer if I didn't get tons of attention. It's really hard not to do those things, and I forgive myself. I had very reluctantly given up on this project in order to internalize that it's okay to know when to quit. And then I promptly forgot I ever started a massive ATLA fanfiction project at all.

I went to Comicpalooza this weekend and attended a panel (hosted by my incredibly passionate and talented best friend @chromecutie ayyy) about responsibly writing your characters' trauma. It got me thinking about Shinza again and how stuck I felt after the last chapter I wrote, because what I had planned next just didn't feel right in a way I couldn't articulate. What I picked up in that panel--that experiencing major trauma can change your character's motivation and goal entirely--was what I needed to hear to get the gears turning again.

So, I'm not going to say I'm back or not. My motivation and drive are constantly in flux, as are a lot of other writers'. But I'm thinking about where I left off--thinking about scrapping what I had planned after that last chapter, which I think was always weak from the beginning of my planning, and considering what might change about this story with this new guidance.

If I do, be warned--I'll be doing my best not to give a fuck, even if that means what I write is Deliberately Bad. Even if that means no one knows whether they can expect a chapter at the regular interval or whether I've quit altogether. Because the point of this, from the very beginning, was for this to be fun. If it's not fun, I'm not doing it, you know?

#nonfic

[murdickdocked]

Updates on Life, Writing Queues

Hi!!! *waves* I’m not dead!

Sorry we’ve been gone for so long. I know not everyone has to know, but we have DID and have a hard time committing to hobbies because of our differences with each other. 

The one who usually writes (me), is not as active, mostly due to the stress and mental health struggles last and the current month had been given us.

Also, last month, we were politically active and were participating in campaigns and rallies. We were very devastated when the son of a dictator won (We live in the Philippines). 

We hope we get to give you more content, so here’s a list of what we’re cooking up rn.

1. Everything and More | Edward Nashton x Reader |

 - “ Hi :) I’d love to request the riddler being utterly infatuated and obsessed with Gotham’s sweetheart - Bruce Wayne’s little sister.  She’s compassionate and sweet. And does a lot of philanthropy - like finishing her dads wish if improving the orphanage n’ stuff.”

2. The Red (Means I Love You) | Edward Nashton x Reader |

- “ Could you possibly do a simp riddler imagine similar to Never A Bother, where his s/o reader kills someone for him and he’s all 😍 “

3. Comfort Is Your Touch | Edward Nashton x Reader |

- “ Hiii can I request Eddie feeling insecure💔 and tries to hide it from the reader but the reader finds out and just showers him with love and affection please 🥺 “

4. Taken Cared Of | Dark! Moon Knight System x Reader |

- (not a request) To Steven, you were the loveliest lady he ever had the pleasure of meeting, you were their pretty moonlight. To Marc, you were his light he wanted to keep all to themselves. To Jake, you were a precious, little thing that he swears will always be theirs. It’s just unfortunate that you don’t know who they were, yet. [TW: Forced age regression, kidnapping, yandere vibes, possessive behaviour, gaslighting, manipulation, all the sinful, sinful things]

--

Those are the ones I’ve somewhat started already, exams are done and I finally have the time to post something. Likely by next week you will have Everything and More. Stay tuned, guys! Let me know what you all think!

#update #not fic #mine #nonfic #soon #moon knight #edward nashton #the riddler #the batman 2022 #the batman movie #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #x reader #announcement

[sullenidol]

【新衣装公開】 

❥水瀬ぴあの (みなせぴあの) 

❥担当カラー 青 

❥ファンネーム はっぴーせっと

『おはようからおやすみまでお世話してね』

❥永月十華 (ながつきとうか) 

❥担当カラー 黄色 

❥ファンネーム 永月家 

 『とうか推しとこうか！』

❥白桜里帆 (はくらりほ) 

❥担当カラー 白 

❥ファンネーム はむちゃんず 

 『りほちゃんといっしょ！』

❥ 藤城なみ (ふじしろなみ) 

❥担当カラー 紫 

❥ファンネーム なみえる教 

 『君のなみだを拭うのはなみだ！』

❥恋星はるか (このせはるか) 

❥担当カラー ピンク 

❥ファンネーム 甘やかし隊 

 『はるしか見ちゃやだ！』

#nonfic #idol group #heroines #alt idol #artist photo

[litwitlady]

This book was so good and so goddamn infuriating. Highly recommend if you want a good biography of mother and daughter and a host of godawful men!

#2024 books #biography #nonfic

[jpopstreaming]

🆕🎶 「 ChukiLove 」 new album by Nonfic is now available worldwide! 🌐 Listen now and discover new sounds from Japan on our weekly updated playlist 🎧 https://spoti.fi/3lgjH73

#Nonfic #Japanese music #Jmusic #Jpop

[coweyed]

Between Women: Friendship, Desire, and Marriage in Victorian England - Sharon Marcus

#*uploads #history #nonfic #girlhood #lesbian tag

[monique-snyman]

Gardening Can Be Murder by Martha McDowell

Nestled within the pages of Gardening Can Be Murder: How Poisonous Poppies, Sinister Shovels, and Grim Gardens Have Inspired Mystery Writers by Martha McDowell lies a captivating exploration that intertwines the allure of gardens with the appeal of mystery. As someone who might be more inclined to commit ‘planticide’ than nurture a thriving garden, I found myself ensnared by the relatable title…

View On WordPress

#Book Review #books to read #classic literature #gardening #Gardening can be Murder #illustrations #literary discovery #Martha McDowell #murder mysteries #Netgalley #Non-Fiction #Nonfic #plants #poison #reading #Yolanda V. Fundora

[winterdragon101]

Little nonfic comic!

I struggle with my weight and being chronically underweight, and so this was super sweet to me ;w;

#art #furry #drawing #lgbt #lesbian #sapphic #comic #queer #wlw #furry comic #cute #wholesome #nonfic #queer joy

[readingthroughtheapocalypse]

“Books changed me and I think that they are, more than anything else, one of the best tools we can use to learn, reflect on, and truly understand the world we are living in. They are a bridge between languages, continents, and people. A book will accompany you and will stay with you, it will mark you like nothing else. You will go back to it, quote it, argue about it. You will borrow one and lend one. The written word, in my opinion, is therefore more effective and long lasting than the spoken one as a tool for change.”

- Frank Barat, in the Introduction to ‘On Palestine’ by Noam Chomsky and Ilan Pappé

#book recommendations #book recs #bookblr #bookseller #book rec #book review #booksellers of tumblr #nonfiction #nonfiction books #bookish #book quote #bookish quote #current read #currently reading #queer bookseller #nonfic #booktok #bookstagram #book recommendation

[pllcy]

We won’t be graduating unless vice-chancellors stop holding our education hostage // Varsity, 2023

#nonfic #feature #student

[stinkulon]

feeling annoying

first draft 12.2.22 01.38

she was the most annoying person in the entire world. and she hated him for making her feel that way. she often felt like she had access to a deeper meaning, that she thought about and considered and learned things that he could never understand, that she had a deep well of emotion that he could not draw from, or maybe that’s how all sad girls feel. maybe when you walk through the world without negative feedback you don’t turn inside yourself for comfort. she didn’t know if it was him or her. she would find herself crying, unsatisfied with her life, lonely, and turn to him as the one to blame, asking a depth from him that he could never reach, inconveniencing him with her feelings that would fade in the morning. he said she was no fun. it’s always just miserable. but what was she to do? she had to talk about it with someone, and if that someone wasn’t him, what was the fucking point of it all?

but i love him. there are moments when we are as close as two people can be and there are moments where he feels like a guy who lives in my house. when he’s just showered and he’s wearing his levi’s and we drink coffee and i lay my head on his chest i feel like i have won life. when his breath smells and he asks me too many times to have sex and when we do, expresses how it was worth the wait, i feel a million miles from home, tiny and floating away. i feel a deep yearning to live alone simply to see what i would do if i weren’t living by someone else’s schedule. i could watch movies, set my own bedtime. i could leave a room without a reason and go without speaking for hours.

it’s half one in the morning and she gets a tap on the door asking why shes not in bed. he will not leave without a reason. he seems to have forgotten the horrible things he said and when she reminds him he sighs and finally leaves. they have plans tomorrow, he says, it’s almost valentine’s day. i feel sick.

do i deserve to be placated? do i deserve to be indulged? or will i destroy every person who’s foolish enough to fall in love with me? a ball of mental illness and a mask so thick it won’t come off. i glued it on when they saw past it, and now i have lost what’s underneath. i try to find it in the early hours but i am caught. how can he love me when he doesn’t even know me? i am constantly plagued by the thought that i am an accessory to his life, bending around an already existing schedule, not a partnership but a secretary. when i rebel i am chastised. when i bring it up i am confused for twenty minutes then end up apologising.

i don’t know. sorry.

#first draft #prose #prose poem #nonfic #early morning #2022 #relationship