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The Magic of Stephen King's - The Eyes of the Dragon

Posted by VD DeVau on June 7, 2009 at 6:03pm

I read my first Stephen King book when I was 9. I stayed up all night and nearly fell out of bed when I heard an errant car honk from outside because it was so creepy. I thought I had read all of the King stuff there was. Somehow I kept missing The Eyes of the Dragon. It's one of the rare out of print King books (although I just learned it will probably be re-released soon). It is not nearly as bone-chilling as his horror works but like the Dark Tower series, it is haunting and lovely. I picked it up for some paltry sum from alibris.com *In places the story is predictable, the themes done, the stock fantasy tropes glaring, but above all of that, for me, the prose is magical. What a wonderful gift, to be able to write with such magic. I tried to explain to a friend my attraction to most things written by King but to magical words (and worlds) and she did not get it.I'm writing this because I am doing something I have not ever done with a book before -- I am trying not to finish it! I have a few dozen pages left to go to the end. I know that the story does not have a sequel, so unlike the Dark Tower series 0that I was able to spread out with care over years certain that there would be more -- when this ends it is over and I don't want it to be over.I've decided to go on a treasure hunt for books like this - books that people find magical, that they do not want to end -- what's yours?*I am a bargain book shopper. Alibris.com is a great resource for out of print and hard to find sci-fi books. I usually just search for books that are 2.99 or less and that ship directly from alibris. Last time I ended up with 40 books for less tan 45 dollars and they were delivered in less than a week. I highly recommend them.

Don't You Hate It When You Have To Keep A Secret?

Posted by Diane on June 1, 2009 at 2:16pm

But I must. I found out this weekend at the BEA that there is a serious Sci fi/fantasy book series coming out next winter from a totally unexpected source. However, I was told that I had to keep the name of this Black writer under wraps.. . . AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!It's killin' me!I just can't wait to see the looks on all of your faces. This is going to be good.

Download Immortal 2nd edition at Scribd...

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on May 30, 2009 at 3:30pm

Immortal 2nd edition by Valjeanne Jeffers/full novel

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Fiction Books fantasy science fiction

On Our Way to the BEA (Book Expo America)!

Posted by Diane on May 28, 2009 at 3:00am

This will be the first year we are exhibiting. Booth 2142 - somebody play that number! It's been hectic, but I think we will get through. We will be introducing our initial catalog for 2009 - four books. We will be blogging, twittering (!?), and video interviewing all weekend. Check us out daily for fresh news. We will also be displaying the works and promotional materials of several members - so if you are in the tri-state area, come out and support your fellow members:Audrey Bell-Kearney, Sister Inc.Stafford Battle, author of AfroCyberspace and Insane MessiahJune Cross, author of Secret DaughterKevin M. Weeks, author of The Street Life SeriesSonji M. GantFollow Black Author Showcase and Diane Wms on Twitter @ http://twitter.com/blackauthors http://twitter.com/dweiumsHere's hoping this weekend in New York is fun and productive.

I'm one of two Guests of Honor for next year's Wiscon, :-D!!

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on May 26, 2009 at 9:12pm

Now that Wiscon 33 is over, I'm now free to announce that next year, Mary Anne Mohanraj (a writer, editor, and spec-fic community activist) and I will be the Guests of Honor at Wiscon 34 (if you don't know what Wiscon is, it describes itself as the "World's Leading Feminist Science Fiction Convention"...and it IS! . Learn more here).

I’m both honored and ecstatic. When it was announced at the ceremony on Sunday, there was an enormous applause. That really warmed my heart and almost made me teary-eyed (and that is so unlike me...I don't do public tears). It was truly a beautiful thing.

I hope to see you all there next year.

Nnedi

Renfields: Best Laid Plans video

Posted by Penelope on May 25, 2009 at 11:19pm

I've uploaded my Renfields: Best Laid Plans video into the video section. I hope you'll take the opportunity to check it out and share it with your friends!

IN LIKE FLYNN TONIGHT 11PM CST!! COME JOIN THE DISCUSSION!!

Posted by Penelope on May 23, 2009 at 10:44pm

Penelope and Otto discuss all things social and sexual including...

Should judges be so concerned about what female attorneys wear? The new JFK tell-all by reputed paramour who gets near 7-figure book deal; Dick Cheney - More weapons of mass distraction; Terminator Salvation - Did you see it? What do you think? Errett Thomas discusses "Personal Responsibility". This and more on this installment of In Like Flynn.

Join us in the Chat room or call in and Speak with Penelope and Otto and Errett Thomas, the author of How to Make One Million Dollars in One Year at 718/508-9683

NUBIAN SPIRIT (DVD)

Posted by The Cushite on May 23, 2009 at 10:37pm

THE AFRICAN LEGACY OF THE NILE VALLEY

by Louis Buckley (Director, Producer, Editor and Narrator)

A Journey Through Ancient Africa's Golden Times

We know that the ancient Egyptians (Kamites) and Cushites
were indigenous to Africa and that they were Africans, but how did it all start?

"Nubian Spirit" is a beautifully shot documentary which unravels the fascinating and often magical legacy of Ancient Sudan. It shines light onto the Ancient African culture, history and spiritual mythology of the people from the Nile Valley.

www.FirstWorldBooks.com

The film digs deep into Ancient Africa's numerous contributions to modern civilization. It draws out the reality of such disciplines as astronomy, architecture, science and much more that the Ancient Africans used to make sense of their world.

The film features dynamic interviews with leading scholars Robin Walker, K.N Chimbiri, Anthony Browder, Ife Piankhi, Onyeka, Dr. Kimani Nehusi, Rashid El Shelkh, an archaeologist and ground breaking museum curators Stephen Quirke and Sally-Ann Ashton.

The revelations and information they contribute help the viewer to fully "over-stand" this important time period. These perspectives are seldom, if ever, taught in mainstream schools or universities.

It has been well recorded that the first humans on the planet emerged from the beautiful continent of Africa. However most people today know little about how these African cultures have influenced modern society. We understand the importance of sharing authentic African history in a balanced way and how under represented it is in the western world view. We wish to contribute to setting the balance straight by accurately representing the facts and the information we discover.

The natural resources of Africa and the thousands of years of developed African culture have played an important part in the development of human culture throughout the world. Together the land and its people have made their knowledge and expertise available on a universal scale in areas such as religion, medicine, agriculture, arts, technology, architecture, astrology, music, mathematics, science, dance, mining and the list goes on. Alongside all of this, it is clear that countless numbers of African lives, their strength, blood, sweat, tears and service have been used as a source of human labour to literally build, establish and protect the cities and wealth in the western world. This seems to still remain largely unknown and unacknowledged in main stream thought, education and media.

This is a wonderful educational tool for both children and adults alike who have a genuine thirst for knowledge about the amazing continent of Africa and the world's earliest civilizations that emerged from it.

"Nubian Spirit shows how history can speak to an audience of all ages and interests."
- International Black Welsh Film Festival

An epic love story, dynastic feuds, foreign invasion, and mythology. Sounds like the perfect ingredients for a Hollywood blockbuster, but Nubian Spirit tells the real and often untold story of Ancient Africa and the people that inhabited it. Filmed, produced and directed by Louis Buckley, this independent filmmaker manages to bolt together an award-winning documentary that brings to light the rich culture and history of the people from the Nile Valley.

Navigating through a map of Ancient Africa, Nubian Spirit reveals the journey of people across the continent, culminating in the creation of a diverse but powerful civilization. Meanwhile, bold, panoramic cinematography captures a time when men and woman ruled side by side. Highlighting many of captivating stories, Nubian Spirit delves into legends such as Osiris, the God of the after-life and his wife Isis, goddess of magic and life, revealing a history as fertile and long as the river in its title.

Buckley employs the help of several experts - all obviously passionate about the subject - to piece together the story of a golden era that gave birth to science, astrology, architecture, and much more. But it's not all about mythological figures straight out of a dusty history book. Nubian Spirit explores the connections between this forgotten time and the way we live today.

Let’s face it: history can make us all glaze over at the best of times but this legacy is told with such vigour that it leaves you with a thirst to know more. Of course it also helps that this snapshot of history comes in a digestible portion of just 1hr 15mins. Use Nubian Spirit to brush up on the history and significance of Ancient Africa...beyond pyramids and pharaohs.

- Corinne O'Sullivan

Louis Buckley is director, producer, editor and narrator of the amazing film, Nubian Spirit. Louis Buckley is of Jamaican and African descent born in London who had long dreamed of visiting the land from which his ancestors had come. In his documentary he traces the roots of African civilization.

Louis Buckley is founder of BlackNine Films in 2004 which is a team of individuals with a diverse range of skills and talents who are motivated to produce documentary films. Their aim is to promote a more rounded view of some of the world's accepted history by highlighting some of the forgotten stories from indigenous African cultures around the world. Through film, they bring to light the hidden and neglected contributions these cultures have made to help shape our world as it is today. Their plan is to introduce more real cultural understanding, whilst showing the impact African culture has had on modern society.

They are, generally, of the view that this information has either been distorted or remains largely unacknowledged in western societies through ignorance and unbelief and, therefore, the African contribution is not adequately understood, appreciated or represented. It is our desire to celebrate human culture and share the lessons of the past so we may gain greater understanding of our present.

World history informs us that Nations continually rise and fall, we think its important to observe these historical changes now so that the human family can move towards a mutually respectful and harmonious future.

Visit: www.FirstWorldBooks.com

What's really going on?

Posted by Demetrius Littlejohn on May 23, 2009 at 2:08pm

I guess i just feel like venting. I know when I was a kid in the 90's, the generation before us was probably befuddled and bewildered with our fashions and music, and probably our attitudes too. But for the life of me, I can't understand the the downward spiral that this generation depicts. These damn kids don't seem to gravitate towards anything positive or sensible. Damn, I mean we had NWA and a lot of so-called "negative" role models, but in actuality the entertainment icons of that time still presented the idea of being better black person and empowered. I go to a small college in Charlotte, NC and I am sad to say that if this is our future we can put our heads between our legs and kiss our black asses good-bye. These are smart kids with bright futures that think Nigga is word to be respected when they use it in mixed company and get mad when another race says only what they just heard. I am trying give them the benefit of the doubt but I can't it's bull-s--t. How can you get mad at a white kid that hears you call each other niggers all day then get mad because you heard through hearsay that the kid said the word nigga to his friends. You can't make a word that is part of the English language off limits to others unless you make it off limits to yourself. And understand I have no problem with the word depending on the context. But the people using the word don't even have the history of the word in tow. Now the definition, am told means "ignorant person" or a expression of love between blacks. Bull, the word nigga is short for negro and I need all my brothers and sisters to deny our kids from misusing the term. I know we say things with no malice intended, "Whats up nigga? Nigga please! etc", but is this what our people were tortured, maimed, and killed for? For the right to be a NIGGA? And this is the last caveat of my whole blog, these same kids that use the term loosely have the worst grades and none are even trying to making any academic advances. Damn they are niggas!!!And when they don't have their work done you know who they ask for help??? The white kids. Somebody tell me.... WHAT'S REALLY GOING ON?

How Dark Is Too Dark?

Posted by William Butler on May 22, 2009 at 1:00am

When I first sat down to draft the concept that would develop into my current project, my goal was to illustrate some of the baser emotions I saw within myself. In doing so, I created a character that, at best, was uncaring and completely sociopathic. It wasn't long before I realized the character was so repugnant, that no matter how well I wrote the story, readers would never accept her as anything other than an antagonist.So... I was left with the task of reconstruction. Over the next several months, I rewrote and reworked the character, modifying various aspect of her physical and psychological make up, until I had someone with whom a reader could at least stand in the same room without having to suppressing the urge to flee. Of course, the question must be asked, why would I create such a character from the onset? Truth be told, I needed an outlet and drew upon, what amounted to, a manifestation of my own heart from that time.The exercise taught me something rather important. While writing for one's self can be therapeutic, such an endeavor does little to make one's work acceptable to a wider readership. As such, my question of "how dark is too dark?" could be answered with, when there's no light at the end of the tunnel. The Helen who resulted from my efforts, while neither a damsel in distress nor an traditional heroine, remains my favorite character; as much because of her failings as for her strengths.Be well,William

Amille Gets a Baby -- Ironics Story from Last Month!

Posted by VD DeVau on May 20, 2009 at 8:27pm

Okay so, here's the short I wrote about the final major character in the Ironics story - Amille. It's longer than the others but oddly, it is the least developed. In total there are five viewpoint characters - Ronnie (here and in the initial Irony blog post), Garren ("human" from post 2), Noe (the Ironic smuggler/lover in post 2), Amille and the baby, who is still nameless here. One of them is the "villian" of the collage of stories. I have decided to work them into a full length novel instead of leaving them as shorts. I will post Noe's stand alone short story soon but after that I will spend most of my efforts into working the now 43 shorts (I wrote about 4 in the last few days) into a novel. Thanks for the encouragement... It'll be a colossal task...hmm...Amille Gets A BabyAmille held the baby at arm’s length and gently shook it up and down. The soft-skinned child awoke with a start and a scream. When it looked at Amille, it quieted down abruptly, its shallow breathing caught. Amille offered a grin to the fragile thing and waited for its breathing to even out before she went about her inspection. It appeared to be healthy and strong. The few cuts and bruises it had were to be expected. From its haircut and little shoes, Amille deduced it was a little girl. Although her eyes were bright and intelligent, she was not yet able to walk or talk. She smiled at Amille.Amille looked into the next room, Ronnie and Pearson were still huddled over the map they had unrolled hours before. Neither seemed to have been the least bit curious about the infant. Her cohorts were planning their revolution and such an insignificant thing as a soft skinned baby could be ignored or worse.Amille searched the stocks for something to feed the child and settled for an overripe banana. She peeled and mashed the fruit into a shallow bowl and sat it and the baby on the high table. The child gingerly dipped its small fat hands into the mess and fed itself. Amille knew nothing about children, though she had once had her own, a lifetime ago. She hadn't been a mother then, in fact she been the worst sort of mother, a mother who couldn't mother. Amille was trained as a government reader. Her job was technical, and her imperatives were always collective driven. She had no time for her own life.The soft-skinned baby reminded her of the baby she had to give away, the baby with Sean's face. Her only memory other than its face, were of little fingers that were strong, yet fragile as they held onto her hand the one time she held it. She always thought of her baby as ‘it’. She hadn't taken the time to wonder if it was a boy or girl. She’d only carried it because she'd been away on a mission and not near enough to the Fieldhouse to get it extracted. There hadn't been a need to care or the time to care. Sean was long dead, the commander had already decided on the invasion of the human landing and nothing was to be done without her expertise. Back then everything seemed more vital than her own life. Surely she had done the right thing.The baby giggled at some unseen thing, and Amille smiled the sound of laughter in this place, a place of seriousness, of war, of plotting , of schemes. Laughter without malice here was strange and new and if she could admit it to herself, good. She supposed she would have to change it now, that it had eaten. She looked around for some scrap of cloth that would do. Finding nothing clean enough or big enough in the stock room, she left the child alone on the counter and went out to the barracks. She stripped one of the empty cots of its sheets, and cut it into pieces she thought would work. She made six diapers and a blanket for the little human baby that had a come as an unexpected bonus with the stolen goods.Once back in the stock room, Amille did her best to do a job she'd never done. Her hands moved ably. She fashioned the diaper with the same skill as she had many bandages before. The baby made no complaints, so she assumed it would work. For a moment, she held the warm, soft child to her chest. The baby giggled again, making Amille laugh. Surprised at her reaction, and wanting to explain it to herself, Amille reached out to the child with her mind.Amille had never read a child before, and she assumed that she would get nothing but bright squiggly lines that passed for thoughts in old and dying soft-skins and crazed Ironics. Instead, the child was thinking of a place. There was a large window that looked over a lake. Just beyond the window, right near the surface of the lake, people gathered. Two people stood out from the small group. A man and a woman whose faces were indistinct in the memory, but whose personas glowed. She had no names for them, but the image suggested that they were the babe’s parents. The laughter began there with that thought. Her parents made her happy. But there was also sadness. The child reached out to touch Amille’s cheek. With knowing eyes, the baby acknowledged that something had passed between them, smiled again and offered what could only be thought of as a thank you. Amille abruptly sat the child down . She felt as if she were falling down a hole. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach threatened to flip itself over and surge up through her throat. Amille left the baby and hurried into the other room to see what others are doing.Pearson's face was contorted in deep concentration. His thumb and forefinger were splayed over the map calculating the distance between where they were and some point that Amille did not know. Ronnie was waiting patiently for his calculation. Although they were frequent partners, Amille did not suppose that they loved each other. At least not the way she had loved Sean, and she wondered if either of them missed or knew that they were missing, what that could be like. She’d been with their unit for over a month, and Amille had never talked to either one of them about anything but the revolution. She missed the camaraderie of her sisters. That band of readers she had known for three lives with whom she had always been at home. But they were all dispersed to faraway places, all of them except for her. She thought their names, the new ones and the old ones. She was lost in those thoughts, when Pearson looked up and noticed her standing there."What did you do with that thing?""She's in the stock room." Amille felt hot at the question. She did not know why he wanted to know, could not imagine him trying to see or touch the baby. Did not know why his inquiry about the baby in the stock room made her she feel this way, but knew that in the short moments between its discovery and her reading of it, that she had changed."You going to give it a name too?" Ronnie's sharp tongue cut her.Before Amille could react, the two of them went back to their telepathic wandering about the map. Neither of them seemed to care, she imagined that they just wanted her to throw it out. Take it to the heap with all the waste and return to help them decipher the map. Amille stood waiting. Many moments passed and neither them looked up. Even without listening she could tell they were exchanging thoughts about the map and strategies. Neither of them thought of the human baby in the stock room anymore and they had refocused their attentions to getting to the human landing and what they would do once they got there."What should I do with the child?"Pearson looked up first and Ronnie followed his gaze to her face. The coldest of both of their eyes may have deterred her on any other day."It is of no use to us. Get rid of it." Ronnie again."It's living. It's not trash I can't just throw it out.""Set it free." Pearson shrugged."Put it out in the woods, is that what you want me to do?" Amille heard the edge of her own voice, and was shocked. Since banding with Ronnie and Pearson she had not yet had a disagreement with the two revolutionaries. Their government had fallen or if you believed the news, had changed so drastically as to not be the same. Amille thought of her banding with the revolutionary group as the continuation of the work she'd done as a reader during all of her lives. Many of her comrades had joined the revolution, most thought of their joining in the same way."We can't keep the thing here." Ronnie gave her an appraising look. Bitterness followed her eyes up and down the length of Amille's body. Amille set her jar and refused to shiver."I won't leave it to die.""Then what will you do?" Pearson turned his full tension to Amille, even shifting his body to face her. Like his mirror, Ronnie did the same thing, and Amille faced them with seeing their surprise at her expression.She had not known that she felt this way. Even when she was making the diapers and feeding the baby, she had not known that she felt anything until she read the baby's mind. And even then those thoughts were indistinct, but standing here before them. She thought, 'I want to keep it'. She did not say that, would not say that, could not say that."Let me take it into the encampment. I'll be back before morning." Amille had not allowed herself to plead ,ask or beg for anything in so long that the ache in her voice was foreign to her own ears. The other two Ironics reached out to her and she forced them out of her head. The strength of her shield was a testament to her many years of service because behind it her mind was in turmoil. Instead of her normal linear thinking, her thoughts rambled through her head with no clear direction, and all she could think about was taking the baby away from these cold, cold people. She bit at the corners of her mouth not to say the things that she was thinking. Long ago a commander had told her she was too emotional for the job in front of her peers. She spent two lives trying to shake off that stigma. No one trained harder. No one spent more time at the Catacombs of the Elders in meditation. No one could boast such sharp mental reflexes. She had proved herself to herself and the commander and then kept right on proving that she could live the life of service with no care for her own desires.Three lives later, she thought she'd gotten it right. And then she met Sean, and for the two lives they spent together she had a wonderful time unlearning all that training. She had relearned the other side of Irony. They had been warm and passionate and too much and never enough. She had learned to like being touched and opened her body and mind to him.And against all the odds, all the myths and the details that said they would not die, Sean did. His soul withering to nothing as the body he inhabited was incinerated in fire. It was the months after his death, when she realized she was pregnant. She had been grieving in a way that was unheard of, alone. Amille stilled herself against the memories of her isolation. She’d emerged more emotionless, more focused, more committed to the service."We want to leave out tonight." Pearson's eyes bored through her. If he'd been a Reader, she was certain he would have already been inside of her head trying to pick her apart. Amille would not tell him. Pearson was on a mission. There was only one thing to be done. And that was to get into the human landing and stop the settlement.Amille heard the thud before the baby cried. The crash before the earsplitting scream. She ran into the kitchen to find the baby lying on the floor. A small trickle of blood was dripping from one ear. She picked it up and it stared at her. It's big round eyes shown wet with tears, but suddenly they stopped when it recognized her face and the baby venture to a smile in spite of its injury.Amille's heartbeat steady clip, and in a panic. She shoved the makeshift diapers, the rest of the near-spoiled fruit, and every other thing she could think of from the stock room that might be useful into her gear pack. She held the baby closer and was out the door and on her way before the others had even noticed that she’d left the room.©VD DeVau

Out of This World

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on May 20, 2009 at 7:51pm

(In Memory of John Coltrane)Shadowed nightspotsister beaded and hoopedbeards, afrosdashikisOn platformthe connoisseur of altoand his entourageconjure aural sorceryInvitation:to sojourn in darknessresonance and colorInside Indigo huedrhythms of Blackness unboundTo journey with immortalityin Coltrane's modeGlide on azure notes -wings fashioned of hornpianodrumIn this spacelifeis comprehensibleraptuouseternalSoul embraces DivinityFirst Published in Revelry 2006Copyright Valjeanne Jeffers 2009 all rights reserved

Immortal 2nd edition/chapter 1 pt. 2

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on May 20, 2009 at 1:36pm

A mahogany shaded woman emerged from the grove of trees tohis right. She had a wide nose, full lips and was dressed in a thighlength garment made entirely of overlapping feathers. Her kinky hairwas braided atop her head. Gold ornaments hung from her ears, neckand arms.She had the voluptuous body of a young girl. But her largedark eyes held knowledge no girl could ever possess, and she had all16the earmarks of a preternatural creature – though friend or enemy,Joie couldn’t tell.He decided not to stay and find out.In one fluid motion the warrior rose and leaped on to hishorse.“Joseph wait!” She stepped forward and spread her hands,palms outward, as a gesture of goodwill.Despite the danger, he was curious. And she was lovely.“That’s close enough!”Joseph is not my name. Who is he? Your dead mate? Orperhaps a favored slave?”“I have a message for you…for who you will become leaguesfrom this day.”Her voice was soft and melodic – like a song.Intrigued, Joie leaned towards her, a smile playing about hislips. “Speak beautiful fortuneteller, if that’s what you are.”“You are needed in Topaz.”“Topaz? I have never heard of it.” Suddenly he couldn’t lookaway from her strange eyes… or urge his horse to a gallop. She isbewitching me! With dawning terror, Joie realized he might neverleave the forest.“The city does not exist here, in your time. But your future selfknows it well, and it is to him that I speak. You must journey to findyour heart’s desire, Joseph to find the one you long for.”Now the enchantress‘s brows drew together in anger. Hervoice doubled in volume echoing through the woods. “I’ve visited youbefore! Why have you ignored my commands? When you awake,remember my words and hark unto them! Go to Topaz, we will speakagain at that time.”She turned and disappeared into the forest.Centuries before the Time of Legend, Sorre’s Copper citizens hadbeen warriors and hunters. Now its inhabitants grew vegetables, andherded sheep and goats; for Sorre was the chief supplier of crops andanimal proteins for the New World.Joseph had lived here his entire life. His parents had taught himto grow corn, beans and peas. He’d leaned to listen to the wind to predictthe weather, to put his ear to the soil to hear its heartbeat.And he learned that all creatures have a soul, no less worthy ofrespect than his own. These were the gifts Mata, his mother, and Lowe,his father, had given him.17His grandfather had shared these values too and other gifts aswell – tales of long dead warriors and bloody battles; of evil magiciansand shape shifters; and of a war between good and evil that never reallyended.Joseph stood on his porch for a moment, enjoying the illuminae’sfirst light. Then jumped down, and crossed the street to his grandfather’scabin.As he mounted the steps, an elderly man opened the door andstepped out, his lined face breaking into a smile when he saw Joseph.Ripple had an aquiline nose and coffee colored skin. Thick blackhair laced with gray was spread over his shoulders, and he wore a flannelshirt, jeans and boots.“Good morning, Joe.”“Good morning, Grandfather.”The old man sat in one of the two wooden chairs, and took apipe from the table beside him. “I knew you’d come to see me thismorning.”Joseph sat down next to him. “How?”“Because it’s almost time for you to make your journey.”The young man slapped his thigh. “Damn, you’re amazing! Howdo you always know what I’m thinking?”Ripple chuckled. “An elder’s intuition. She came to see youagain?”“Last night.”“So what are you waiting for? Go to Topaz, find your destiny.”Elbows resting on his knees, Joseph rubbed his hands together.“Just like that huh?”“Why not?”“You don’t think its crazy for me to move halfway across theNew World, because of a dream?”“I think you’d be crazy not to. I’d have left the first night shevisited me. Besides you were never meant to be a farmer. You hate it.”The Copper youth laughed. “Yeah, I do hate farming. But whatabout you, with all your stories of blood and magic. How can you settlefor,” he waved his hand, “this?”“I’m an old man. I enjoy the illuminae setting in the evenings, thefresh air; the peace and quiet. That is enough for me,” Ripple winked,“that, and the frisky widow next door.”For a while they sat in silence.At length Joseph said: “I’ve got some credits saved. I guess Icould take my paintings – see if I can find a buyer. You’ll hold my land in18trust until I return?”Ripple puffed serenely on his pipe. “Sure, I’ll take care of it butyou won’t come back…not as a farmer.”Karla boarded the trolley and took a side seat. Leaning her headagainst a crooked arm, she gazed absently out at the city. Citizens ridingbicycles, and a few on horse back passed the trolley. Auto taxies idled infront of wooden houses, and black garbed enforcers were making theirmorning patrols.Topaz, like all New World cities, was a hodgepodge of the veryold and the very new.Four hundred years ago, before the Time of Legend, war andcrime had almost destroyed the planet.The Book of Records told stories of citizens hiding under theirbeds, as taser fire shattered their windows – stories of gang wars, ofentire city blocks destroyed by explosions – of a world dying of thetoxins that filled its water and air.But in the year of our One 3075, war, crime and pollution didn’texist.Contamination of the environment was illegal. Recycling wasmandated by planet law.Copyright 2009 Valjeanne Jeffers all rights reserved

East Coast Black Age of Comics Convention (2009)

Posted by GC Comics on May 19, 2009 at 7:15pm

Just came back from Philly, from attending the only Black comic book convention in the US. It was awesome! Lions.12 did really good. I brought 40 comics with me and came back with five. It was smaller than most the cons I've been to, but I could feel the love. I got to see a awesome brother in the lord and ccas member there. Mark I had a good time brother. And I also got to meet Reggie Byers creator of Kidz of the King. Isay the greatest highlight if the trip was getting to minister to a boy who though the bible was something funny, until he read my comicbook.P.S: gOT TO TRY MY FIRST pHILLY CHEESE STAKE FROM pHILLY AND IT WAS AWESOME. BEST THING EVER. I AM LITERALLY STILL THINKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW.

Unamused with My Muse

Posted by VD DeVau on May 15, 2009 at 5:05pm

So, I've committed myself to writing fiction everyday just like I write do my research work everyday. And in spite of all the advice I've read and been given about daily writing and how rewarding writing everyday used to be for me --- I am uninspired. Well, that's not exactly right. I'll explain.I have lots of ideas. Don't we all? Three of which I have been picking over for the last few years. I have posted some of the Ironics stories here but there are two other stories - one a dark future story and the other a more contemporary horror story - that also beg to be written.The Ironics stories are all shorts that need big time revision. The characters are defined but the universe of the Ironics is scattered. I wrote the stories without thinking about continuity. While the world has similar features across the stories, the time lines are out of sync. In many ways it all needs to be rewritten if it will become a story at all. Possibly a more difficult task than beginning again.The dark future story has a well defined setting, a crisis and a conclusion but very few pages written. The characters need work. Every time I start working on the characters I get bogged down.The horror story has an outline, a few chapters but stalls in the storytelling. There is something missing.I think I want it to become an epic (perhaps more of a dark fantasy than a contemporary horror) and not a jaunt (if anyone gets what I mean by that) and the enormity of the project keeps me from working.I shouldn't complain about having too many ideas. Right?In the limited time I have to spend writing, my silly little muse whom I have dubbed the Laughing Man (I don't know when I started calling my inspiration this, but something about the monniker fits so well) is creating mountains of confusion signaled by lack of focus and deceptive false starts.I can't seem to decide which story I want to finish (see my first blog), which story is the right one to write now. My frustration is mounting and the Laughing Man is laughing. Everyday when I sit down to work on one, I get ideas for another. And when I pick that one up, the third story calls me. And when I get to the third story, I write a few lines and then find myself exhausted. So, I quit for the day and hope tomorrow will work better.I am committed to finishing some one of these this year. I owe it to myself. I cannot write all three at once. I have to choose which pony to ride.I'd love to know how you decide which story gets your attention. I thought of flipping a coin. But alas, there are only two sides...~~VD

This is plain and simply awesome...

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on May 14, 2009 at 10:41pm

Here is my brother Emezie's latest animation. It is by far my favorite to date. It is titled Rock Opera and I have no idea what inspired him to create this particular twisted, imaginative, animated tale. It’s deep.

The story, the art, the music are all his own and they are all absolutely awesome- and I'd say that even if he weren’t my brother. . I highly suggest you watch it back to back (part 1 and then immediatly part 2) in the HD mode. It's about 18 mintues long all together.

Enjoy...

Part 1

PART 2

The length of belief.

Posted by Michael Herron on May 12, 2009 at 5:09pm

This is my first blog. And I plan to keep it brief. Ever since I heard this question, I've wondered what peoples answer would be regarding it. 'Can I walk a righteous path holding a beer?' Paradoxical in nature. But don't let that get in the way of how intriguing a question it is. I'd love to know peoples answer on the matter.

I suspect I'll be using this blog more as a links/info dump than for commentary. Progress reports on writing/comic projects can be found at my dreamwidth account. Link of the day: Posted by Florence on May 12, 2009 at 3:39am

BLOGS

All Posts (6398)

The Magic of Stephen King's - The Eyes of the Dragon

Don't You Hate It When You Have To Keep A Secret?

Download Immortal 2nd edition at Scribd...

On Our Way to the BEA (Book Expo America)!

I'm one of two Guests of Honor for next year's Wiscon, :-D!!

Renfields: Best Laid Plans video

IN LIKE FLYNN TONIGHT 11PM CST!! COME JOIN THE DISCUSSION!!

NUBIAN SPIRIT (DVD)

What's really going on?

How Dark Is Too Dark?

Amille Gets a Baby -- Ironics Story from Last Month!

Out of This World

Immortal 2nd edition/chapter 1 pt. 2

East Coast Black Age of Comics Convention (2009)

Unamused with My Muse

This is plain and simply awesome...

The length of belief.

I suspect I'll be using this blog more as a links/info dump than for commentary. Progress reports on writing/comic projects can be found at my dreamwidth account. Link of the day: Posted by Florence on May 12, 2009 at 3:39am

Characters in our story are White, Black, Asian. Hispanic, Mayan...so far. A main enabler is a Aphra, an industrial spy co-opted for the 2012 political campaign--black, beautiful, sexually aggressive

ORION

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