“‘You have to allow yourself to open up until you are the exact size of the place you live, no more, or else you get restless. No less, or else you drown.’”

She had enough here—had that not been the purpose of this house,
these hives, this place so near to her moss-blanketed father? To have
enough, to grow precisely large enough for this place and no larger?

[...]

She has grown too big for herself, that is all. Terrible things
occur when you outgrow the space allotted to you. You cannot really
circumnavigate Fairyland like September did, not really. It’s too big
for you.

[...]

“Living alone,” November whispered, “is a skill, like running long
distance or programming old computers. You have to know parameters,
protocols. You have to learn them so well that they become like a
language: to have music always so that the silence doesn’t overwhelm
you, to perform your work exquisitely well so that your time is
filled. You have to allow yourself to open up until you are the exact
size of the place you live, no more, or else you get restless. No
less, or else you drown. There are rules; there are ways of being and
not being. This sort of thing,” she gestured imprecisely at the room,
the bed, him, “is forbidden. It expands or contracts me, I’m not sure
which, beyond the … set limitts. I’m not good at that, either.
Expanding, contracting.”

Palimpsest, by Catherynne M. Valente

What I’m Reading: “The Finite Canvas” by Brit Mandelo

On Tor.com:

“You recognize these?” the woman asked.

Designs snaked over her torso, down into the temp-reg pants, up to her neck. The left side of her rib cage was a silvery mass of letters and symbols, all jumbled; there was a stylized sun around her navel with waving lines of light. A crane, its legs hidden by the waistband of her pants, spread its wings over her right side and torso. There were smaller signs hidden around the larger; three simple slashes crossed the space between her collarbones. Her skin was as readable as a novel, her flesh a malleable masterpiece made with knives. Some of the scars were still pink, and a spiral design on her left breast was an angry, fresh red.

Murder scars, Molly thought. Syndicate badge. The sheer number of them made her throat constrict. She took a step backward, as if one step would make any difference to a skilled killer.

“I need a new set,” the woman said, sticking out her bare, untouched arm. “Here.”

Just go read it.

“What’s a gay guy doing editing a bisexual anthology, anyway?”

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I ran into this on Kickstarter and it really struck a chord with me. From the Anything That Loves: Comics Beyond Gay and Straight Kickstarter page:

TYING IT ALL TOGETHER

While I was on the phone with Matt, talking about the gay and straight people that had such a problem believing he was a bisexual man, I had something of an epiphany.

Some of the people in this study I read about in the Times, it occurred to me, could well be gay, but wasn’t it more likely that most were bisexual? Think about it; why would someone cling to the myth of “it’s a choice” unless they really felt, deep down, that they had to make one?

Could the refusal to accept the existence of bisexuality be the major obstacle to ending homophobia altogether?

I’d always felt really removed from the concept of bisexuality; I’d been supportive of them and their challenges, but they felt like another letter in the list, another smaller category, banding together with us in the battle, out of necessity.

Now I was faced with the prospect that our failures as a gay community and as a broader culture to more fully embrace bisexual people could be actively hurting all of us.

With that realization, I knew I had to change my thinking about the binary nature of sexuality, and rethink the oppositional nature of my gay identity. I had to find a way to welcome everyone who would embrace queer people as sisters and brothers, and tear down the divisions that hurt us and the people we care about.

Why does it say “I’m just this queer guy who occasionally writes science fiction, y’know?” instead of “I’m just this bisexual guy who occasionally writes science fiction, y’know?” in the “About Me” section in the sidebar on the right? Because I feel like there’s a queer identity where there’s not really a bisexual identity, and if I’m trying to explain myself to people it’s a hell of a lot easier if I frame it the first way. There are yet more complicated ways to say it — “I’m a bisexual guy who’s in a monogamous relationship with a guy,” “I’m a bisexual guy who’s been in a monogamous relationship with another guy for about a year, but dated girls before that,” etc. I don’t know which of those identities is the “true” me, so I smash it all up and stick the label “queer” on it and that mostly works. I really wish that there were something more like a bisexual identity — it was something I went in search of which I still haven’t found. In the mean time, eh, “queer” works, but I’m excited to see other people exploring the same space.

The comics look awesome, and I’ve backed at the level to get the T-shirt too, because that’s pretty much how I feel about it.

“The Fun Police”

No Clowns

More fiction.

This was the story I wrote during Viable Paradise (my “horror-that-was-Thursday” story).

My classmates liked it! Steven Brust liked it!

All the markets I submitted it to sent it zinging back with polite little “nope, sorry, not for us” notes.

So it goes.

That means you get to read it here!

The prompt involved a grab-bag draw, from which I received a red foam-rubber clown nose, and asked us to write a story about a future in which a thing that is presently legal has been banned…

Continue reading

Quote for the Night

Behind all the political rhetoric being hurled at us from abroad, we are bringing home one unassailable fact — [terrorism is] a crime by any civilized standard, committed against innocent people, away from the scene of political conflict, and must be dealt with as a crime….

[I]n our recognition of the nature of terrorism as a crime lies our best hope of dealing with it….

[L]et us use the tools that we have. Let us invoke the cooperation we have the right to expect around the world, and with that cooperation let us shrink the dark and dank areas of sanctuary until these cowardly marauders are held to answer as criminals in an open and public trial for the crimes they have committed, and receive the punishment they so richly deserve.

- William H. Webster, Director, Federal Bureau of Investigation, 15 Oct 1985

Quoted in Patriot Games, by Tom Clancy.

It’s raining in Boston, as though to wash the past five days through the city’s pores and out, down the Charles, to the sea.

Boston is drinking, as though to wash the past five days through our collective pores and out, down the Charles, to the sea.

Here’s to MIT Campus Police officer Sean Collier, 26, who died protecting us. Here’s to the unnamed MBTA Transit Police officer who was wounded in the line of duty. Here’s to the hundreds of Boston police, firefighters, and EMTs who put their lives on the line for us this week. Here’s to everyone in Watertown who spent the last twenty-four hours living in fear of their lives. Here’s to the Dunkin’ Donuts employees who came into work to keep the city awake and alert despite the danger.

When the ticker at the bottom of the news screen in the burger bar changed from “2nd Marathon suspect in Watertown and alive” to “2nd Marathon suspect in Watertown, alive, and in custody,” my friends and I raised our glasses.

“To the rule of law,” I said.

“To the rule of law,” they replied, and we clinked our glasses, and got on with the business of living.

“Cassandra Clare, how do you deal with your religious values and more specifically expressing LGBT in your writing?”

This post by Cassandra Clare is one of the best — most honest, personal, and insightful — things I’ve read about queerness and religion in a long time. Addressing a (young, perhaps) correspondent who asks the above question, Ms. Clare talks a bit about the negative reactions people who write to her have to the fact that her works include LGBT characters, and how they rationalize that inclusion to themselves with her apparent religiousness. Then she says…

There is more, but these strange, involved explanations for why I do what I do come, I believe, from people not able to understand that to me, there is no conflict between my morals and values and including gay and lesbian relationships (not just characters — a gay character who has no on-page relationship is a character whose romantic life is a shadow life: not normative, but hidden) in my fiction. Including gay and lesbian characters and relationships is part of my values. I would feel I was abandoning my morals if I didn’t do it even though it may mean damaging my sales.

To return to addressing the original letter: I think it sounds like you are finding yourself in a place where you are beginning to question aspects of what you have been taught. That is a good thing, and does not make you a bad Christian or person of faith. There are many Christians who have examined their faith and found that it does not in fact conflict with believing that being gay is not a sin, and that gay rights are a value. Befriend those folks, and find out where they are coming from.

There’s more. It’s all good.

Today in Other People’s Lives

I’m feeling painfully anti-social today, so here’s an article about a gay couple who found their son in the subway:

Three months later, Danny appeared in family court to give an account of finding the baby. Suddenly, the judge asked, “Would you be interested in adopting this baby?” The question stunned everyone in the courtroom, everyone except for Danny, who answered, simply, “Yes.”

“But I know it’s not that easy,” he said.

People are forever more complicated and more wonderful than we give them credit for.

What I’m Reading, Big Gay Space Opera Edition

It’s been a while since I did one of these.  Truth be told I haven’t been reading much (long-form fiction) lately.  Grinding to finish a couple projects.  So it goes.

I was bemoaning in previous posts that I had trouble finding comfort reading, and in my current state of overwork anything I read needed to be a break from everything else, so, well, here is some comfort fiction that I enjoyed.

(Warning, spoilers.)

Sunny Moraine is an author whose short work I’ve previously enjoyed, so when I heard that she had a novel out, together with another writer, I was interested.  When she described it as a “Big Gay Space Opera” I had to buy it.  And Line and Orbit pretty much lives up to that description.

You know the story.  Genetically-engineered boy gets kicked out of genetically-engineered society, meets Nomadic Space Burner boy, they fight but secretly like each other, eventually they meet cute.  Genetically-engineered society comes after genetically-engineered boy, genetically-engineered boy stands with Nomadic Space Burners to fight them, hilarity (and bloodshed) ensues.  (Really mostly bloodshed.)  And (spoilers) stuff turns out all right enough in the end.

The plot structure wouldn’t have been out of place in a fantasy novel, and it felt a bit paint-by-numbers at times.  At the same time, I like the colors they chose, and, like all these things, there’s more going on under the surface than that analogy gives it credit for.  I had some issues with details — some computer security, military tactical, and gay sex things which just didn’t add up.  But the plot kicked along at a fair enough clip that I could move past the flaws.

The world felt somewhat like the EVE Online world, for which I have fondness — the book is really what I wanted the EVE novels to be.  Also the writing is technically quite well-done — facile but with depth, good plain style, and capable of beauty without becoming overblown.  And ultimately I quite liked the characters and their relationships — both the main characters, Lock and Adam, and the supporting cast as well.  (Also, positive portrayal of transpeople go!)

So, you know.  If you like the colors implied by “Big Gay Space Opera” too, check it out.

Amazon

For Today

This song feels appropriate to me today.  This is the first such day in… maybe ever… that I’ve been in a position to celebrate whole-heartedly and in the culturally-approved fashion.  (With, ah, certain allowances for changing social mores.)

Warm thoughts to everyone who is not in that position — happily, unhappily, or a little of both.  Be welcome.  May you find fellowship today.

(In point of fact I’m recovering from illness and don’t feel like fighting for a table, so my boyfriend and I will go celebrate this weekend some time.  It is a nice change, though, to feel like I have something to celebrate.)