BLOGS

Love the new stuff on the site!!!!  Love the Cafe Press shop, love the mag, and when I get on, im buying everything out!!!

Got many stories to share, and so much new stuff in my brain its unreal.  First things first though, This Friday its Going down!!!  New show, new attitude:  http://youtu.be/Gj1qOp8kvsE

Its good to be back....

Redwood & Wildfire is a novel of what might have been. At the turn of the 20th century, minstrel shows transform into vaudeville, which slides into moving pictures. Hunkering together in dark theatres, diverse audiences marvel at flickering images. This ''dreaming in public'' becomes common culture and part of what transforms immigrants and ''native'' born into Americans. Redwood, an African American woman, and Aidan, a Seminole Irish man, journey from Georgia to Chicago, from haunted swampland to a ''city of the future.'' Gifted performers and hoodoo conjurors, they struggle to call up the wondrous world they imagine, not just on stage and screen, but on city streets, in front parlours, in wounded hearts. The power of hoodoo is the power of the community that believes in its capacities to heal and determine the course of today and tomorrow. Living in a system stacked against them, Redwood and Aidan s power and talent are torment and joy. Their search for a place to be who they want to be is an exhilarating, painful, magical adventure. Blues singers, filmmakers, haints, healers.

This past weekend I left my house in the country and spent two days San Francisco to celebrate Pride. This year Pride felt especially special because, well, this is the first year in a long time in which I don’t live in a major metropolitan area where there are tons of gay people. I am enjoying the small town I live in, but it’s not within walking distance of the Castro. Small-town life is just an entirely different experience from walking down the street and spotting half a dozen dykes with lovely tattoos peeking out of their T-shirt sleeves and/or a gaggle of gay boys with perfectly coiffed haircuts.
So. Pride. It felt good to be among the queer folks again. It was comfortable. Practically everybody I saw was gay; they all probably assumed I’m gay — we had a gay old time.

It was basically the opposite of what I’ve had to do more and more this year: come out to total strangers. I know that I’m going to have to continue to do this as Ash is published and I meet more people, who don’t know me, in non-gay settings like bookstores or conferences. I’ve already had to do this a lot this year, and so far, it hasn’t gotten any more fun. Let me show you what typically happens:

AT A BOOK EVENT

Me: Hi, I’m Malinda.
Person I Just Met: Hi! Are you a writer?
Me: Yes. My book, Ash, comes out in September.
PIJM: Oh! What’s it about?
Me (steeling myself): It’s a lesbian retelling of Cinderella.

[Note: I could leave the lesbian part out, but really, that's why my book is different. And somehow that will come out anyway, while the person asks me how my retelling differs from the original tale. It's better, I've concluded, to just shove Ash out of the closet right away.]

In a post-apocalyptic Africa, the world has changed in many ways, yet in one region genocide between tribes still bloodies the land. After years of enslaving the Okeke people, the Nuru tribe has decided to follow the Great Book and exterminate the Okeke tribe for good. An Okeke woman who has survived the annihilation of her village and a terrible rape by an enemy gen-eral wanders into the desert hoping to die. Instead, she gives birth to an angry baby girl with hair and skin the color of sand. Gripped by the certainty that her daughter is different—special—she names her child Onyesonwu, which means ―Who Fears Death? in an ancient tongue.

The block itself comes into its own as a setting: the grim inhuman geometry of housing estates makes for a dystopian fortress suddenly under siege. Shot at night, with dim lights flickering off wet pavement and any number of long corridors, sharp corners and twisting staircases, it brings home the hostility of the environment just as the boys show their mastery of it. It is the way that the street gang occupy the space of the estate – that same habit of roaming proprietorially with bicycles and dogs in tow, seen by the state and media as antisocial behaviour – that makes it possible for them to confront the invaders in a fair fight. The cold, sinister backdrop of the estate throws the lively and sharp human drama into relief.

I’ve always been a science fiction buff. From my elementary school days with Bruce Coville’s “My Teacher Is An Alien” series, to my teenage obsession with “X-Files,” to my current RSS feed of the Cyberpunk Review, throughout my life I’ve been fascinated by all things out of this world, beyond this galaxy, and foreign to this dimension. But growing up a person of color, I’ve always felt that the stories that tickle my imagination seldom speak to my identity. For a genre known for depicting obscure creatures, new concepts of civilization, and future predictions for humanity, sci-fi sure has a hard time being about more than white people.

It seems that when it comes to sci-fi, cultural experiences of the melanin-inclined are merely reserved for exotic backdrop (ahem, “Stargate”) and half-assed tokenization (ahem, the horrible Mandarin in “Firefly”). But fear not! I have scoured the cosmos and unearthed 10 fantasmic films, books, and records to transport you to the unreal—while still letting you keep it real. Keep in mind, this is no “Billy Dee in Star Wars” list—I’ve chosen stories by people of color and about people of color. So enjoy. This is for all the disappointed moviegoers who felt the title “Minority Report” was misleading.

PS: I’ve taken the liberty to step outside the zone of the obvious, by excluding from this list Octavia E. Butler. Not because I don’t absolutely love her work about vampires, shapeshifters, and post-apocalyptic telepathy, but because every other minorities-in-sci-fi list I found online is basically a cut-and-paste of her bibliography. If you haven’t checked her out, I recommend the “Imago” series.

For all the rest of my geeks in the struggle, I hope you find something new in this...

I want to start writing a story but I'm having a hard time creating an outline for the story. Must I have an outline for everything that I write, or can I just start writing now, creating the story as I go? My brain is telling me no no no -- if I want to create the crazy, wonderfully explained, fantastical world that I want to create, I really need to plan it out. I can't just write any ole barely pieced together story...

... but then again, I just feel like writing. I wanna express myself. I feel like getting lost in my own characters and the problems that consume their lives.  Writing is fun. It stimulates me.  And I've missed it. 

 ~*~*~

“The video begins with a tense Rihanna perched in the upper balcony of a crowded train station. When she spots a tall man with a “buck 50” scar on his cheek (in this context, visual code for “badman” or gangsta) she shoots him in the back of the head then winces. Toward the end of the clip, we learn why the tearful singer “shot a man down, in Central Station, in front of a big old crowd”: Because the night before, at a sweaty dancehall, she sets physical limits with him and he retaliates by following her home and raping her.”

"I suspect that once we have finished ransacking our planet’s resources, once we have pushed a couple thousand more species into extinction and exhausted the water table and poisoned everything in sight and exacerbated the atmospheric warming that will finish off the icecaps and drown out our coastlines, once our market operations have parsed the world into the extremes of ultra-rich and not-quite-dead, once the famished billions that our economic systems left behind have in their insatiable hunger finished stripping the biosphere clean, what we will be left with will be a stricken, forlorn desolation, a future out of a sci-fi fever dream where the super-rich will live in walled-up plantations of impossible privilege and the rest of us will wallow in unimaginable extremity, staggering around the waste and being picked off by the hundreds of thousands by “natural disasters”—by “acts of god.”"

“In the future, we kill our attackers”

“Even in the future, black girls who own their sexuality, who demand justice, who are in process, who are not walking vaginas to be touched, fondled, kissed without permission, street harassed, followed, honked at, beaten or raped are aliens?”

“‘Man Down’ is an inexcusable, shock-only, shoot-and-kill theme song. In my 30 years of viewing BET, I have never witnessed such a cold, calculated execution of murder in primetime. Viacom’s standards and practices department has reached another new low.”

“Once again BET has chosen the low road over the high road. Violence is a pervasive problem in all corners of our society and today’s youth need more positive strategies for dealing with conflict than those portrayed in the Rihanna video. This video is one among several frequently played on Viacom music video networks that lyrically or graphically glorifies violence and other behavior inappropriate for teens and youth....”

“Whenever this topic comes up, it's inevitable that someone will say something along the lines of murder is worse than rape and walk away from the subject as if that was some kind of conversational coup de grâce. End of discussion. I win. You lose. ...
The thing with rape is that it is primarily a crime against women. There are still cultures that blame the woman if she is victimized. Even worse, there are societies that know women will be rejected by their family if they are raped, so it becomes a very effective tool of war. Women know that every man has the power to victimize her in a very particular way and that we cannot know when this threat will surface. We can't walk to our cars at night free of worry and we have different standards for safety when it comes to our sons and daughters because of it--how many sons have to be told to guard their drinks when going to a bar against date-rape drugs? This is the bogeyman of a lot of women's nightmares. “

"War Elf" by Mark Knox, Artist/Writer, Member of the Black Science Fiction Society

Greetings Fen & Fen of Color,

For the next seven days, Nuñez Daughter is mine.

I’ve wanted her for awhile.  Kismet is a bit of a control freak.  Runs a tight ship.  Almost like a slave mistress.  She doesn’t like it when we step in.  We shuffle things around.  We confuse her.

But my back has borne more than whips and chains.  And while I laid in the grainy liquid at the bottom of the flask, I pressed my back to the wood.  And waited for another dark hand to rub me out.

Here I am.  Lucky you.

She’s torn, you see.  Between so many identities.  Spaces, places.  I can’t help but laugh when she tumbles around the web asking her childish questions:

What is slavery?
Why be mixed-race?

How do we stop violence against women?

How do we live sex-full lives?

The enemy is coming ashore! The Chief of the Aesir though in his homeland has not found his missing men or his own people. However, he and his companions from the Valley are determined to hold off a force of hostile sea-raiders from slaughtering a small settlement of villagers. The stakes for the Chief are far larger as his very life depends on the outcome of the coming battle! Will the Chief, Valley Knight and the boy Little Fish be capable of stopping a small army before it's too late? Read the exciting conclusion to the second phase of the Priestess Saga, "All Things Sown Before Harvest" Part IV!

All Hail The Priestess

Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC is a new electronic publishing company that seeks to add new flavors to the realms of speculative fiction and romance. We’re actively seeking submissions to add to our catalog. We’re inviting authors to submit works of 8k to 30k for possible publication in our catalog. Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC wants to see titles that include excellent writing, superior storytelling, and fantastic creativity. We want our readers to lose themselves in the worlds the authors have created, and to care about the characters populating those worlds. Moreover, we’d like to see ethnic diversity in stories as well.

We’re currently looking for titles in the following genres: horror, science fiction, fantasy, and romance. We’re most excited about seeing stories in the subgenres of cyberpunk, steampunk, near-future sf, and space opera.

We do publish paranormal romance, science fiction romance, fantasy romance, and dark fantasy romance. We’d like to see submissions in these areas as well. Our interracial romance titles have been very successful, so feel free submit those also.

Special Call for Sizzling Steampunk Stories!

Mocha Memoirs Press is seeking submissions for our latest erotic romance series titled, Sizzling Steampunk Stories. Just like our other stories, we’d like to see ethnic diversity in these stories. The stories must have a Happy Ever After or Happy For Now ending and fall into the erotic steampunk romance genre. Read Valjeanne Jeffer’s THE SWITCH for an idea of what we like to see.

Please keep in mind that although a new company, we're by no means accepting every submission or submissions that are poorly edited, offensive, crude, or sloppy. Please only submit your absolute best work. As a publisher, we'll make sure you get the best from us in return. We have over 12 years of electronic publishing experience; so please don't submit low quality or unprofessional work.

To submit your work to us, send a cover letter and your completed novel or short story to mochamemoirpress@gmail.com.

INDIEGOGO Xmoor Studios NYC Comic Con

Help us complete the GALTOW Collected Edition for New York Comic Con 2011

Here’s the Link for Indiegogo: http://igg.me/p/30427?a=4753&i=shlk

Do you want to be a CLAN HOUSE MEMBER of GALTOW?
We are offering 12 people a chance to be illustrated into issues 5 & 6 of the story arc finale…
Xmoor studios need all our loyal fans and followers to step up to the plate… We need your support! I’ve posted up a project fundraiser at IndiGoGo and Eric and I are trying to raise some funds to finish off our indie publishing flagship title GALTOW. We have four issues completed and have compiled those into a full color trade paperback and we need help finishing off the last two issues we’re looking to make a completed trade book of the entire first story arc which will be ready in time for this years New York Con in October.

Rob: xmoor2 (@) yahoo.com & Eric: goldmane.net.

Eric will be adjusting some poster art he created a while back for GALTOW to make it into a signed pitch cover. Below is the newly adjusted line art and I will post a pic of the full color version soon being digitally colored by the uber talented Julian Aguilera. Eric has never been asked to do cover art before but we know his first shot will be well received. Thank you all for any and all support as Rob G. and I will Continue to put our best creative feet forward and strive to continually make exciting projects!

I wake up tied to a chair in a stable that is being used to raise dogs. I don't know how I know it's being used to raise dogs, but I do. The sun is just beginning to set and I can see it and a quickly darkening forest from the open stable door to my left. The stable is entirely empty: of dogs, of hay, of accoutrements, of anything. I am in the last of three stalls to the left of the stable and my head hurts like I hit it on something. The headache is aggravated by the dogs barking in the distance. It is not just a few dogs but a large pack, fifteen or more, and they sound like they're searching for something or someone. It occurs to me that they are probably looking for my friends, and I am afraid. The man that owns the stable and the dog, he's looking for my friends and he's already caught me. I almost can't breathe and I don't want to think about. I fall asleep.

~

When I wake up again it is dark outside though the corners of the stable are lit with flood lights facing the ceiling. It's not a lot of light but it's enough. Enough to see my friend Olutunji also tied in a chair. He is almost blubbering and shaking his head no. His eyes are wide and bloodshot. He's almost as afraid as I am I think but I'm calmer. "It’s gonna be okay, Tunji. It's gonna be okay," I tell him trying to get him to relax because his fear isn't helping me any and if we're going to get out of here we have to have clear heads. There's no way we're going to get by the blood dogs, I think to myself. But we have to try. He can't hear me over his own mutterings all I can make of it are "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again.
The man walks in and that's when I notice that I'm not tied to the chair anymore I am just sitting on the hay of the stall, waiting. He looks like a mean farmer, like you imagined farmer ___ from the tales of Peter Rabbit who: bald, a wrinkled and scarred face, plaid button-down shirt, suspenders, and olive pants tucked into black work boots. His voice is calm and low. "I told you people I didn't want you here. And now you're going to pay the price." The man hands Tunji a knife. "Boy, if you want to live, you’ll throw this knife at your friend. If you want to live, you won't miss. If you want to live, you'll make it hurt."
Tunji looks me in the eye and we both know. Really, he already knew. If than man doesn't let us leave we won't leave at all wither of us. The only good part of it all is that he didn't tell him to kill me. Tunji and I aren't that close but we've known each other forever through church and our parents. Something in me hopes that the sheer amount of time we've spent in each other's presence will make him hold back for me, but he won't. The man will know the difference. Tunji keeps saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
He takes the knife and some part of me that is not resigned to whatever pain may come resists. "Please don't do this!" I say against my will and my arm is outstretched in the universal sign for stop. Tunji throws it straight and true and before I know what has happened the knife slices through my wrist like butter, like air.

Everything stops.
Even the man is holding his breath it seems.

I stare at my wrist as slim line of red begins to appear around the circumference. I can't believe he did it, even though most of my mind is telling me that he's my friend and his life was at stake the uncompromising survivor in me, the part of me that begged Tunji to stop when I knew it would make no difference, cannot believe that he actually did it.
I don't move and my hand, that should have already fallen, stays put. If I never move maybe I can imagine that he didn't really do it, that this never happened. Nothing hurts and I think to myself, How long I can stay this way?

The man releasing Tunji from the chair breaks the spell and "I'm sorries" start again as Tunji leaves the stable, constantly looking back over his shoulder. I use my left hand to hold my hand and arm together and gently lower the severed hand to the hay on which I’m sitting. And of course, finally, there is blood and pain and I begin to scream and I can't stop. Underneath my screams I can hear the dogs that had faded into the distance. I can hear them baying and coming closer howling and racing and the man barely has time to shut the stable doors and before he does I can see Tunji running in the distance knowing that time is running out. Just as the man lowers the bar the blood dogs reach the stable and slam against the doors growling and scratching and digging. Anything to get closer. In the midst of my screaming I fall asleep.

~

A girl my age walks into the stall with a silver pitcher and a bowl of warm water and bandages. My wrist had been bandaged while was unconscious and the girl has come to change the dressing. In the stall next to me there are seven beautiful solid black puppies with gold eyes, playing with each other. The girl leaves the bowl outside the stall and uses the pitcher to cleanse the wound. She is gentle and I begin to wonder what the man's game is. When she wrings out a towel over the bowl, a drop of blood splashes into the pitcher next to it. I see it but the girl doesn't see and I cannot open my mouth to tell her. She finishes with me and goes to the other stall with the pitcher of water for the puppies' water bowl I can hear my heartbeat in my ears but still I cannot move to stop her. The puppies lap up the water with abandon but after awhile they lose interest. They begin to amble and sniff at the hay searching for something slowly all the puppies are pressed against the low wooden wall separated my stall from theirs and are sniffing and digging at the hay. "No. No!" I'm finally able to say something, to move.

I turn to the girl and I beg her, "Tell them it's just water! Please tell them it's just water!" The girl looks confused but unconcerned. I have grabbed her arm in my begging and she shakes me off. The color of the puppies eyes are changing from gold to ruby red and their canines grow long and sharp. Their yips and puppy grumbles turn to high-pitched growls and I cower in the farthest corner of my stall.

"TELL THEM IT'S JUST WATER!" 

If you are looking for a new series to get lost in this summer, I invite you to try the Cybil Lewis series.

About The Cybil Lewis Novels

 Cybil Lewis is a private inspector and no stranger to loss and pain. She has three stories in the series so far-- with more to come. Join this private-eye in life-altering adventures in a strange futuristic world with her band of friends and enemies as she solves the latest whodunit. The Cybil series novels are great mysteries in the realm of science fiction.

Don't take my word for it. Here is what reviewers had to say about Cybil and SILENCED:

“Nicole Givens Kurtz is a gifted sci-fi writer with a wonderful imagination…And with the extra benefit of a strong African-American woman as the main character, this adventure captures the essence of the future.”—Affaire de Coeur, 4 1/2 Star Review

“A missing-persons case takes us into an action-packed story. Cybil is no shrinking violet, and the tale is vivid enough to keep the reader looking forward to the next chapter in this new series. This is a fast-paced, enjoyable ride.”—RomanticTIMES Book Reviews, 4 Star Review

“Nicole Givens Kurtz has written an enjoyable sci-fi mystery that displays her active imagination and her ability to build a storyline around believable characters in an advanced time setting. I found Kurtz's heroine to be interesting; however, buy-in took a minute due to the character's brashness. Once there, I was able to understand her motives and mode of operation. SILENCED is being dubbed as the first in the Cybil Lewis series. Now that my appetite has been whet, I am looking forward to the next installment.”—The RAWSISTAZ(tm) Reviewers

“For top-notch suspense, edge-of-the-seat breathless anticipation, and reeling denouements that never stop, run to your nearest bookseller and pick up SILENCED!”—Dark Angels Review, 5 Angels Review

 "Silenced" has all the hard-boiled elements of sex, violence, crooked politicians and dishonest cops and a story told by an engaging but difficult heroine. It is an excellent start to what promises to be a very interesting series." --Fred Cleaver, The Denver Post

Learn more about the four stories in this series by visiting Cybil's blogspot at http://cybillewisseries.blogspot.com/

The Chief is back home in the Land of the Fjords, but all is not as it should be. Though only gone for several months, everything has changed and only the strange little girl named Mjarga seems to have the answers. The trio of travelers must solve this strange mystery if they are to find the Chief's missing men and return to the Valley! The questions will only deepen in this latest chapter of The Priestess Saga.

All Hail The Priestess!

Specter of War, the first book in my Guardians of Destiny young adult series, is now on sale. I'm very proud of the book and I hope that it finds an audience. I'd like to thank fellow Black Science Fiction Society Sister Valjeanne Jeffers for the amazing edit and for being supportive and honest. 

After two dikas of peace, the United Republic of Planets now finds itself on the brink of war. The newly crowned queen of the Maraudan Empire, Mursela Mornall, is determined to return her realm to its glory days by destroying The Republic she despises, but her desire for war is dividing her people. Senator Abrecus Judi and his daughter, Dena, find themselves on the forefront of the debate, and soon their family is heading towards a collision course with The Queen that will change their lives forever.

For the citizens of The Republic, this couldn’t have come at a worse time. Graduating cadets Akeen and Connor Star have enough problems living up to their legendary heritage, and balancing their complicated relationship with Kayla Dylan, without being thrust into a war they do not want. Meanwhile, Major Van Dylan finds himself an unlikely hero while on a peace mission in Maraudan space, and Parnell Star, the great hero of the last war, must find a way to stop history from repeating itself, as young and old, human and non-human alike, band together to beat back the specter of war.

For a LIMITED TIME, you can purchase the book for .99 cents. Check it out and enjoy the journey.

Amazon 

Barnes and Nobles 

       Imogene Hampton looked at her date and wished she had her sister Doris stretched out over a sacrificial altar.  Dennis was a supervisor at a regional bank. Divorced, with two kids approaching young adulthood, just as sane as one would want your offspring to be.  Still attended the same church on Latvia and Upton he'd been baptized at as a young boy.    Spoke well and with no false notes of 'hood informality that been long suppressed since graduating from college. Ran a mile each morning. Was as fun to be with as a hemorrhoid!

Contrary to rumors and expectations, Imogene wasn't, nor felt, in the thrall of loneliness nor desperate, or was going lesbian. That thought had entered her older sister Doris's murky mind, because of Gina, Imogene's friend from work, a gay woman who had told Doris so at the graduation party for Doris's daughter and Imogene's niece, Stephanie.   Doris exchanged a look of panic between the two of them and rushed from the dining room!     "I found the writings of Shelby Steele, Armstrong Williams, and Bishop Jakes to be inspirational, in particular in my dealings with a much wider world. The Demoncrats have compartmentalized our people..."  Ooh! She was going to cuss Doris out! What did Dusty call them of that persuasion? Constipated ReNegroes. Dusty had been a cynic about politicians and politics in general. But he held those Blacks who added the adjective conservative and the pejorative republican together on the same level as pedophiles.

    It was two years tomorrow since his death in that car wreck. They had been a couple only four.   She took a sip of the wine in her glass and closed her eyes. A dinner out for Dusty had been to Creighton's Fish Hut or The Blue World's diner over on Petty.   He would have sent back this dinner and demanded a refund for serving him such petite portions at such a high price.   "Shit! I coulda fed five hungry motherfuckas at the Blue World a healthy ass meal." She spewed the wine on Dennis's shirt.    Across from her, at another table with a white couple totally oblivious to him, sat Dusty, smiling and with a plate of chicken wings, Cole slaw,Sweet Potato Pie and a bottle of beer!   "Now I know I'm one of a kind baby, but you don't have to settle for 2,000th best.  Ditch this bougie and I'll tell you all about this fellow Harper I've scoped out.  I think you two will click. He'll even sit and watch Bette Davis movies with ya. And not just 'Hush,Hush, Sweet Charlotte either."

As promised, Pt. I of the second phase of the Priestess Saga begins with "All Things Sown Before Harvest." The Chief of the Aesir with the aid of Little Fish and the Valley Knight returns to his ancestral Northlands. But in his absence an old enemy has returned to lay claim and the Chief won't stand for it! The action and intrigue begins in this latest segment of The Priestess Saga!

All Hail The Priestess!