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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
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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.
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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: http://www.poarchcreekindians.org/xhtml/index.htm
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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

Posted by Team2012 on May 11, 2009 at 9:30pm
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 and decidedly "uppity".You can read some of Aphra's episodes in chronilogical sequence (not their order of posting) FIRSTSECONDTHIRDNote that the blog has a "tag cloud" and a list of "Scenarios" so people can track Isla episodes, as well as any favorite characters or other keywords.
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AMALGAM UNIVERSE: ACT II PART II, THE 1ST ALLIANCES: The Empire Strikes

Posted by Night Manager on May 10, 2009 at 5:36pm
AMALGAMACT IIPart two: The 1st AlliancesThe EMPIRE STRIKES!`The Tauntaun pulled up short as it reached the crest of this particular snowy hill. Luke reached down and patted the great beast’s neck in comfort.“What’s the matter girl?” he asked. “It’s just our new friends.”But the animal showed no sign of decreased agitation as it considered the goliath that stood a mere fifty meters away. A goliath so big that despite standing in a gully and over a quarter of it buried in snow still looked down on them.It metal was battle worn. Scorn and pitted but it still shown white where blast, and reentry burns had been cleaned off. At least three dwellings high if Luke guessed right, about as tall as the Millennium Falcon was long and then some. It stood on two legs that Luke had himself seen firing out engine thrust as it landed right in this very spot. Two mechanized arms held what he had first thought to be some kind of missile earlier but now knew that it was the primary weapon of the giant gladiator. It carried the gray oblong tube in the port arms position, ready to use it if need be.It’s head was similar to many droid head units he was familiar with although he knew that at the heart of what appeared to be a giant droid, was a very normal looking human. It was called a Veritech, the primary fighting unit of what the Rebel Alliance hoped would be their new allies.“All is clear in this sector. Although I can barely make out anything beyond the far ridge.” came a voice over Luke’s communicator. In accordance with the initial agreement the two sides, or three now as it were, would all provide security for these talks, jointly.“I’m going to check out a meteor that came down just over that ridge, then I’ll head in. The Tauntaun can’t take too much more of this cold.”Max Sterling watched as the rebel soldier directed the animal it road on over the far ridge. As far as he was concerned these “Rebels” were an amazing fighting force. Their ability to adapt to and adopt different methods, tools, and now cultures was something he thought The RDF could use. While his people had adapted to the Robotechnology fairly well, they would never have considered let alone been able to use a place such as this frozen world for a base of operations. They certainly would not attempt to domesticate alien beasts of burden let alone transport them to different worlds for their own use. But he figured that when up against an enemy such as this Empire, you had to take advantage of every possibility.The world was an ice world. The small rebel base, due to resource management and also for stealth, was made almost entirely of ice, snow and permafrost. That made keeping the materials and personnel warm particularly problematic.The members of the rebel Alliance wore their standard issue cold environment gear. They were used to having to deal with the harshest and most extreme environments. Staying ahead of the Empire required them to go way past the red safety line in many ways. The plans for this particular base had been in the works for a while, so when this planet had been found, they had stumbled onto a good opportunity. So they were having a much easier time dealing with the conditions of this world than their new friends.The Federation people were a little put out, but their cold weather gear was holding up well. They were not used to these harsh environments, worlds barely meeting the requirements to be considered “M-class”. They were not used to negotiating in unfamiliar territory, or from a tactically weak position. Their hosts were obviously dealing with the changes to the known universe a hell of a lot better than they themselves were. Although from what they were learning, the “Rebels” situation had not really gotten any worse. They were already running, hiding, and fighting a gorilla war against a vastly superior force. The Starfleet people had lost almost all contact with Federation space and had no idea how to get back or how to make contact. Something the newcomers could relate to.The Colonials had already lost their homes, 12 colony worlds that had been attacked and destroyed by a race of artificially intelligent beings known as the Cylons. Those whom had survived the attacks had banded together in a rag tag fleet of ships and fled in hopes of finding a rumored 13th colony on a world that was translated by the Federation computers as Earth. Already on the run and having already lost their homes the Colonials situation was actually looking better. They had found new allies, ones whom could possibly be their long lost brothers, descendants of that 13th colony. This prospect seemed to help keep the Colonial people warm for their gear was poorly suited to this environment.Only the group of people from Super Dimensional Fortress or SDF-1 for short, seemed to be openly optimistic. Their strange ship, that appeared to be three separate ships cobbled together, was the largest ship to make the rendezvous. It could be seen with the naked eye as it hung in low orbit. The small delegation they had sent comprised of a tall bright eyed chocolate skinned woman who had But the cold confines of the small hidden ice base did nothing to cool down the very heated discussion going on in the room the rebels had designated for their command operations. Representatives from more than half a dozen different groups plus a few smaller ones, meet around a conference table. It was standing room only for many of the personnel jammed into the Ops center. The meeting was clearly affecting the on technicians’ ability to monitor their systems. That did not inhibit the arguments going back and forth across the conference table.“Clearly we all have our own priorities and pressing concerns. But we all agree that our separate and individual agendas must be put on hold for the sake of this alliance?” Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise was a diplomat at heart. In his long tenure as Starship Captain he had sat in on and arbitrated many a negotiation or treaty between his Federation and many worlds. He was a mild looking man, a little past middle age, balding and slight of frame, a wild deviation from the sheer power of the vessel he commanded. Having seen the ship Enterprise in action, many of the Rebels were expecting its commander to be a more impressive, imposing, darker figure, not this small man. But slight as he was this Captain Jean-Luc Picard had a presence that did match his vessel. When he spoke there was not one person or being in the room who did not give him their full attention. His words rang clear and true across the conference table and there were nods of ascent, but another voice cut just as clear and just as strong.“The Alliance was here long before your people arrived Captain Picard,” She was Princess Leia Organa, leading figure in the Rebel Alliance. Like Picard she was small in stature but still commanded respect. But hers was gained not from her presence, which was not as impressive as Picard’s, but from her rightfully earned reputation. It was a reputation earned by taking on some of the most dangerous missions against the Empire, earned by fighting in some of the bloodiest battles and earned by facing their most terrifying enemy and living to tell the tale.“…but it won’t be here for too much longer if you don’t remove your ships from this system.”“The Enterprise’s long range sensors…” Picard began.“…Will not detect the Empires Star Destroyers until they are already on top of us.” She cut him off.“My science Officer has assured me that the Enterprise can be hidden in this systems Star’s magnetic field. Our analysis of your technology tells us that your long range detection capability is limited. You have led us to believe that Imperial technology is of the same class.”Leia Organa looked to the pale humanoid standing behind Captain Picard. The briefing she had been given on their new allies was rife with speculation. One of the strangest reports had been of this being; the android that looked like a man. Making androids appear humanoid to the point where they might be able to pass for a living sentient being was outlawed in the Republic a millennia ago. It was considered an abomination. She was not sure how she felt about the notion herself and she was also unsure what to think of a people who would do such a thing.“The Enterprise is ready to move into a concealed position at this very moment.” Picard continued. “As soon as we have coordinated with the ships that are unable to enter this planets atmosphere.”Standing behind his Commanding Officer and best friend, Col. Saul Tigh listened to the exchange between their new allies by holding the strange “Starfleet” device awkwardly by his ear. Unfamiliar ground he was thinking, but then that’s where they had been living, fighting, dying, ever since the Cylons nearly obliterated the human race. Or so they had thought. Here now were humans from if it was to be believed; other Universes.“We haven’t agreed to that.” Tighs head snapped up as his Commanders voice cut through the air. “We’ve looked at the coordinates you’ve proposed. That position is too close to the star. Our Ship won’t last long there.” Tigh was not sure his Commanding officer should have told them that. It was giving away too much Frakkin information about their defenses.“Yes Captain we know. However…” Their Commanding Officer answered. He may not have been a Cylon but from his bearing Tigh would bet a hundred cubits he was no military officer.“…However it is possible for my ship to extend its shields around your ship as well.”“How would we maintain proximity?” Adama was asking a the question but Tigh knew what he was really getting at.“We would simply link our computer systems…” the man name Picard began. Tigh answered for his commanding officer with a sharp: “FRAK THAT!”Luke was about to turn about. The snow fell so heavily on this world that the meteorite strike might have been covered up by the time he found the impact site. There was nothing to see here.But the Force nagged at him, filled him with an edgy awareness of something… impending. What could it be?So he took another the Tauntaun for another lap. Just one… and then he would head home back to base, warm power cell and some almost warm rations.Still the Force pulled at him despite the cold. If he allowed it to… if he let it…Luke found himself staring at an usually shaped mound of snow. It was something…Quickly he slid off his mount and trod through the snow towards the mound when it collapsed. The snow fell away to reveal a downed ship of some kind. The Force began to fill him with warning. Something was… impending. Behind him the Tauntaun began to bay fearfully. Luke almost turned back.“Woor…” but that came from the wreck! Was it possible that this ship was the meteorite that he had seen?He marched closer and could see the fumbling form of a man in the cockpit of the ship. Without too much trouble he ascended the wreck and pulled on the canopy hatch. This was no space worthy vehicle. It had come from somewhere else on this desolate ice world. He pulled on the canopy…and pulled…until finally it came open and in a rumble both he and the pilot fell into the snow.But the rumbling was not from the canopy popping open. Luke looked about as the very ground beneath them shook and quaked. He Tauntaun took off in fear.“Hey!” Luke called after it. “Wait!”“Wooorr…” the pilot, a dusty and disheveled man wrapped in the rags that would never keep him warm on this world was lolling about disoriented. As the ground began to roll even more Luke finally could make out what he was saying:“Wooor… Woor… WORMSIGN!”
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Dark fiction ning

Posted by Carole McDonnell on May 8, 2009 at 7:40pm
NEW DARK FICTION GUILD STARTSAuthors James Cheetham and G.A.Buchholz recently launched The Dark Fiction Guild (http://darkfictionguild.com), an international, members-only community for authors, editors, publishers and other creators of high quality Dark Fiction, a broad genre that includes expressions such as poetry, drama, music and media (in print, music, movies, TV and the Internet), and encompasses such sub-genres as horror, dark fantasy, suspense, occult, supernatural, gothic and neo-gothic works. You don't have to be a published author or have had your work professionally produced to qualify for membership, even though they have many professionals in their ranks.In just a couple of weeks, they've had nearly 100 people sign up for membership, many of whom are well-established authors, musicians, artists and other purveyors of the "dark arts." They're planning to launch a public Website for the Guild within a few months, but you can see the current homepage (http://darkfictionguild.com) without having to register. Registration for 2009 is free.If you'd like more information, contact G.A.Buchholz at DarkFictionGuildgmailcom.
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New Novel Traverses the Globe in Mind-Expanding, Action Adventure

Posted by Adin Kachisi on May 8, 2009 at 11:19am

"Winner of Science Fiction Book of the Year 2009, San Francisco Book Festival"New Novel Traverses the Globe in Mind-Expanding, Action AdventureAdin Kachisi’s New Novel Weaves Drama, History, Myth, Cultural Expedition, RadicalismNEW YORK – At the core of Adin Kachisi’s riveting new novel, Rise of the Anakim: Tablets of Destiny (published by AuthorHouse), are one man’s travels across four continents in a desperate attempt to save the planet from apocalyptic extinction by both the acts of man and the vengeful hands of nature.In a post-9/11 world, Rise of the Anakim: Tablets of Destiny opens with a devastating mistake made by one man, Richard Mingler, a member of the ancient secret society of the Order of Kingu who chooses to unlock an inter-dimensional portal on the very grounds of the World Trade Center that had once kept Zamariel, a monstrous angelic being from entering this world. Zamariel has been brought for one reason only: to find a set of lost ancient keys.It is the year 2009, and the planet is experiencing global catastrophes ranging from earthquakes, volcanoes, floods and a social unrest that threatens to topple any illusion of order. It is in this atmosphere that Ethan Moore, a college professor in Harlem, travels with one of his favorite students, Rick, to Georgia in order to visit Rick’s Native American uncle. Upon meeting Rick’s uncle, he is also introduced to other Creek Native American elders who reveal the ancient prophecies of a purification of humanity as they enter a new age. Feeling a fated connection with his visit, the elders take Ethan to a secret cave where they unveil ancient stone tablets with prophetic inscriptions on them, commissioning Ethan to find the three missing crystal keys hidden around the globe in order to save the planet from destruction.Led by instinct alone, Ethan’s mission takes him first to Ireland and then Ethiopia, Zimbabwe and finally Korea in a mesmerizing quest which forces him to confront enormous challenges and inexplicable mysteries that test his faith, his beliefs, his academic knowledge and his very idea of reality. While traveling through these foreign lands, he must elude dark, criminal assassins working for the Order of Kingu and other ancient cults determined to bring about the apocalyptic extinction of humanity.Having been transformed in his consciousness and successful in his quest, Ethan returns home and joins the ceremony to unlock the planet’s regenerating energy potential with the crystal keys. At the dawn of new life for the planet, Ethan must face one final battle with Zamariel. Will Ethan be able to save the human race from destruction? Will humanity appreciate the gift they have been given or will a new, more corrupted system emerge?Rise of the Anakim: Tablets of Destiny is a mind-awakening experience and action-packed adventure that chronicles the journey and the struggle of humanity to survive in spite of supernatural adversity. Created to provoke, inspire and educate its readers as it explores the past, present and future possibilities for humanity, Rise of the Anakim: Tablets of Destiny is full of information about ancient history, folklore, contemporary issues, metaphysics and different cultures worldwide.Adin Kachisi is the author of three previous books: Depths of Melancholy, Tears of Ether and Beyond the Talented Tenth. His latest novel, Rise of the Anakim: Tablets of Destiny is a product of several years of research and literary creativity.To Order visit : www.authorhouse.com also available through amazon.com or your bookstoreOr call 888-728-8467Adin KachisiTel: (212) 810-7889Email: kachisia@yahoo.comwww.adinkachisi.com
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IMMORTAL 2nd edition/Chapter 1 pt.1

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on May 2, 2009 at 11:30am
1/ SPECTAR

SHE was in the basement again. It was pitch black, the only
illumination a glowing, quarter moon etched into the floor. A burst of
light split the darkness, and she moaned low in her throat.
Please, I don’t want to see anymore…I don’t want to look.
 Yet her feet moved of their own volition, inching toward the
mark…and the twisted bundle now lying in its center. A man was curled
upon the stone. He wasn’t breathing, and his limbs were tiny and
withered. But she knew he wasn’t dead.
He wasn’t human.
The daemon opened his eyes. I’ve been sleeping. But for how
long? He could feel his arms and legs, but the sensations were muted as
if they’d traveled from a great distance.
Then he remembered. He’d been imprisoned – snatched from his
body by the magic that had trapped him here. Even now sleep, like a
delicious drug, threatened to overtake him. But he fought it away.
How many centuries would pass while he slept?
A doorway appeared in his mind and just beyond it, a tattered
clump of flesh and bone…

Karla’s eyes flew open – the scream caught in her throat. It’s just
a nightmare. I’m Ok. I’m here now, at home.
 The Indigo woman turned her head to look at the bedroom
console. Six-thirty glowed on the screen. She scooted out of bed, picked
up a remote from the nightstand and turned off the alarm.
Karla walked across the wooden floor of her living area into a
kitchenette. A press of her fingers on the first sphere of a triangular pod
started coffee brewing.
She filled a cup with chicory, walked back into the living area and
pushed the second button on her remote, activating a blue panel beside
the window. Jazz music filled the apartment. Like her bedroom console
the unit kept time, transmitted holographic images and played tapes.
Using the third button, she opened the curtains. Curled upon her
futon, the Indigo woman watched as the illuminae changed Topaz’s
violet sky into a mellow shade of peach. She thought of the dreams.
For as far back as Karla could remember, she’d had them.
Otherworldly, exquisite and always with an unsettling clarity so
different from the normal phantasms she read about. When I eat, I wake
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up full – and stay that way until lunchtime. If somebody hits me, it
hurts like hell…
And her dream lover left her limp with satisfaction, even after she
awoke, sure he was still beside her.
At night Karla wrote them down, pouring all of her fears and
desires into the notebooks. She spent hours in the library, reading stories
of reincarnation and demonic possession, searching for answers. She’d
found them too – dozens of them. But none could satisfy the yearning
that burned inside her.
Every time she closed her eyes to sleep they beckoned, calling to
her. Mornings, she awoke like a swimmer who’d been underwater for too
long, grasping for the fabric of reality – moaning with pleasure or
trembling with exhilaration.
One night they’re going to swallow me whole. I’ll never wake
up or maybe I’ll just fall through to whatever’s on the other side…and
this new one, something’s different about it. I know the others but this
one – this one scares me so bad I’m afraid to sleep.
“What time is it?”
The top left knob of her console blinked. “The time is 7:00
am,” a pert, female voice replied.
Seven o’clock! I’d better hustle! Karla gulped down her coffee,
and hurried back into the bedroom to dress.

Tehotep watched the tall, slender woman thumb through her
closet. He wasn’t invisible, only dim. As long as he stayed in the shadows,
she couldn’t see him. But noise couldn’t be cloaked by magic.
The Indigo woman tossed a red knit, shirt and jeans on the bed,
slipped off her pajamas and walked into the bathroom. As she stepped
into the shower, the nozzle automatically clicked on, spraying her body
with water. He followed, standing just beyond the doorway …
Karla finished bathing, and Tehotep quickly moved back into the
shadows – all the while devouring her with his eyes. Her skin, dewy with
moisture, looked like melting chocolate her nipples, blackberries.
She toweled off her full breasts and long legs and he licked his
lips imagining the things he would do with her – to her – the endless
perversions he’d force her to submit to. Things she’d come to enjoy,
when she tried to please him.
The young woman walked into the bedroom. He watched her
pull up her panties, hook her bra, slip her arms into the straps. Image
after image flooded his mind. Tehotep felt himself harden; a soft groan
escaped his lips…
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Karla froze then stared into the corner facing her bed. It’s only a
bunch of dirty clothes, you’re hearing things!
In that instant he appeared: an Indigo man with full lips, slanting
onyx eyes and a shaven head. Voluminous garments hung from his
muscular frame. Their eyes locked, and she gasped in recognition. The
dark man smiled, nodded his head…
And vanished.
Karla gazed at the pile of laundry – all that remained of him –
and wondered if she’d lost her mind. With trembling hands she finished
dressing her thoughts scurrying about like rats in a maze. It’s him! I
didn’t imagine it! He was here, but that’s impossible –!
There was a knock at the door and she jumped. Get it together
girl, that’s the twins.
She walked into the living room, picked up her remote and
pointed it at the entrance. It slid open and the eight-year-old twins,
Carlos Jr. and Ashley, small and brown like their mother, ran
inside.
Ashley’s shoulder length braids were tied off with ribbons.
“Good morning Karla,” they sang in unison, hugging her.
“Good morning love bugs. What do you want for breakfast?”
“Waffles,” said Ashley.
Carlos Jr. flapped his hand at his sister. “You always want
waffles.
Make mine French toast.”
When Karla and the twins’ mother had first become friends,
Tatiana and Carlos were both working nights, and she’d offered
to make breakfast for their children during the week. That was two years
ago.
Now Tatiana worked as a beautician, although her mate still
worked evening shifts at the metal emporium. But fixing meals for the
twins had become a habit Karla didn’t want to break. She was crazy
about them, and Topaz’s food prices were next to nothing.
“Coming right up.” The dark woman took milk and breakfast
pellets from her cold box, and slid the nuggets into a diamond shaped
oven. In twenty seconds, they expanded with heat.
“Done,” the oven announced. The children sat at the table, just
outside the kitchenette.
Karla served them, walked into the living area and took a cipher
from the box on the coffee table. She lit it and puffed nervously; with the
other hand combing her fingers through her short,
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wavy hair.
“Smoking is stinky,” Ashley pronounced her mouth full of
waffles.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” How did he get in my
apartment? Piss on that! How did he get out?
“Mommy’s mad at Daddy ‘cause he ain’t been home in two
days!” Carlos Jr. announced, snapping her back to the present.
“Hasn’t, not ain’t and your mother probably wants to tell me
about it herself,” Karla scolded gently.
“Yeah,” piped Ashley, “don’t tell family business.” There was a
knock at the door, she opened it and Tatiana strolled in: an Indigo
woman with her hair coiled into tiny braids.
“Hey girl.” Tatiana greeted her.
“Hey yourself, want some coffee?”
“Definitely,” the petite woman flopped on the couch, “Kids
hurry up; the transport unit will be here in minute.”
After the twins left for school, the women sat on Karla’s futon
drinking coffee.
“Carlos hasn’t been home in two days.”
“Your son already told me.” Karla eyed her friend with concern.
“So what are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said the next time he pulled this shit, you were gonna put
him out.”
Tatiana stared into her cup. “When he comes back, I’ll talk to
him –really talk to him,” she mumbled. “He‘s got to get it together, or
find someplace else to stay.”
“Yeah, you said that last time too.”
“Karla he’s a good man and he loves me, he’s just got issues! His
daddy used to beat him up. Carlos gets depressed when he thinks about
it so he smokes rush. He doesn’t do it every day – ”
The dark woman gritted her teeth. “Ti, I don’t wanna hear that
shit! He’s a junkie – if he was serious about dealing with his addiction,
he’d check into a clinic!”
Tatiana’s small, oval face narrowed with anger. “I’m not one of
your residents so don’t preach to me, Ok? It’s my life and my man!”
“I’m not trying to preach,” Karla said softly. She touched her
friend’s hand. “It’s just that you deserve better – better than him. You
need a man that’s gonna be there for you all the time. Not somebody
who keeps giving you love, and taking it back.”
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“Look, I know what you’re saying, up here,” Tatiana tapped the
side of her head with her fingertip, “but relationships aren’t simple,
they’re tangled like vines. You don’t make up your mind to leave
someone you love just like that.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis.
“You ever been in love?”
“Uh-huh, I have.”
“Really, with who? I mean, I’ve never seen you with anybody for
more than a few months.”
“With – ” a brown face appeared in her mind’s eye. Loved.
Cherished. But Karla had never met him – not while she was awake. She
looked sheepish. “It’s been a while.”
The Indigo woman furrowed her brow. “So long ago you don’t
remember his name? Then you weren’t in love.”
Karla avoided Tatiana’s searching eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about
him,” she fumbled for the words to stop her friend’s questions, “it’s too
painful.”
“Oh, it’s like that huh? I understand…Karla, he took my ID
card.”
“Damn! How’re you going to make through the week?”
The petite woman shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.” She set
her cup on the table. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“You need some credits?”
“Probably…I’ll let you know. You better get going.”
Karla activated the door lock then watched Tatiana slowly climb
the steps to her flat. How could Carlos do this to her again?

The elderly woman held the curtain back from her window. She
was short with large eyes, a wide nose and full lips a shade lighter than
her ebony skin. Her thick salt and pepper hair was twisted into two
braids atop her head. Her calico spotted cat, Nutmeg, rubbed against her
legs, meowing plaintively, but she ignored him.
Opal watched the tall, Indigo woman descend the stairs and cross
the street. Once Karla was out of sight, she opened the door, walked
down the hallway to the back exit and followed the brick path into her
garden.
There was a pecan and cherry tree, a profusion of roses, lilacs and
daises, and the bees were having their breakfast. The garden square was
hemmed in by apartment buildings and faced a tool shed.
She continued down the end of the path to the shed. This time
Nutmeg didn’t follow and he’d ceased to beg for attention. Instead, he
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sat solemnly on his haunches and watched her pick up a can of oil, and a
rag from beside the doorway.
Opal oiled the door hinges and wiped away the excess. She
squirted more oil on the cloth and rubbed it into the door.
Anyone observing this ritual would see an elderly woman
polishing a tool shed. If they looked more closely, they’d notice her
whispering to herself and think she was senile. And that was just fine
with her.
The old woman stepped back: admiring her handiwork. She
strolled up the little path, and took a seat in one of the cushioned lawn
chairs beneath her trees. Nutmeg stopped harassing the bees, bounded
over and wound himself around her legs.
Opal reached down and stroked his back. The illuminae was
beautiful today. Perhaps she’d linger a bit and enjoy it.

Dressed in breeches and sandals, Joie rode through the forest
of his ancestors. The illuminae filtered through the trees, sketching
filigrees in the mulch below.
The warrior was tall, with reddish brown skin, almond eyes
and high cheekbones. Jet black hair hung loosely about his shoulders.
Silver and turquoise rings dangled from his ears and wrists.
 Joie was half asleep, his muscular thighs loosely gripping the
mare’s flanks, for she knew the way to their favorite stream better than
he did.
They reached the brook and he dismounted, kneeled and
splashed water upon his face and neck, finally cupping a pool in his
hands to drink.
“Joseph…” He glanced around, instantly wary. The forest was
teaming with supernatural life – and not all of it friendly.
Among the most dangerous were Wood Sprites – forest
succubae that took the form of human women to capture men. Their
victims slowly starved to death, losing all grasp of time as they
languished in their captor’s embrace.
A mahogany shaded woman emerged from the grove of trees to his right...

Copyright Valjeanne Jeffers-Thompson 2007, 2009 all rights reserved
available at barnes & noble, pubit
www.amazon.com, kindle

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From the Lost Diary of TreeFrog7

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on May 2, 2009 at 6:01am
Just wanted to let you know that my short story, From the Lost Diary of TreeFrog7, has just been published by Clarkesworld Magazine. Read it online here.

This story is closely linked to the world of Zahrah the Windseeker...in an odd way. It's about a woman in pursuit of something strange.

There will also be an audio version of it available soon, the link will be on the homepage.




¨°º¤ø„¸ ¸„ø¤º°¨¸„ø¤º°¨
¨°º¤ø„¸ Nnedi Okorafor ¸„ø¤º°¨
¸„ø¤º°¨nnedi.com ..°º¤ø„¸
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CFS: Special issue: Race and Ethnicity in Fandom (Summer 2011)

Posted by Carole McDonnell on May 1, 2009 at 2:11pm
Special issue: Race and Ethnicity in Fandom (Summer 2011)Transformative Works and Cultureshttp://journal.transformativeworks.org/http://community.livejournal.com/fight_derailing/4761.htmleditor AT transformativeworks.orgSPECIAL ISSUE EDITORSSarah Gatson (Gatson AT tamu.edu), Sociology, Texas A&M University,http://sociweb.tamu.edu/faculty.php?faculty_id=12Gatson@tamu.eduRobin Reid (Robin_Reid AT tamu-commerce.edu), Literature andLanguages, Texas A&M University-Commerce,http://www.tamu-commerce.edu/litlang/reid.asp?menuName=people&pageName=facultyRobin_Reid@tamu-commerce.eduPlease feel free to forward to other listservs, individuals, and to postonline!DESCRIPTION_Transformative Works and Cultures_ (TWC), an online-only,peer-reviewed journal focusing on media and fan studies, broadlyconceived, invites contributions for a special issue on race andethnicity to be published in summer 2011.Academic scholarship on fan cultures and fan productions over the pastfew decades has focused primarily on gender as the sole category ofanalysis. There has been little published scholarship on fan culturesand productions that incorporates critical race theory or draws on therich array of methodologies that have been developed during the pastcentury in both activist and academic communities in order toincorporate analysis of the social constructions of race andethnicities in fandoms.In contrast, fan activism and fan scholarship (at cons, workshops, andon the Internet) has produced a growing body of work (personalnarratives, essays, carnivals, and in recent months, a press) focusingon not only analyzing but also confronting hierarchies of race andethnicity and their relationship to gender, sexuality, class, anddisability. Submissions by academics, acafans, fan scholars, and fansare encouraged. In all categories, people of color are especiallyencouraged to submit.Topics might include but are not limited to:*Online activism and the circulation of critical race theory and womenof color feminisms in fan communities, in particular the relationshipbetween fan online discourse and other online activist communities.*Critical analysis of the instantiation and critique of racialhierarchies in fan communities and the surrounding culturalproductions.*Racist and antiracist issues in commercial transformative works(comics, film, mashups, remixes, machinima, etc.), especiallyrecuperative race readings (e.g., Randall's _The Wind Done Gone,_Rhys's _Wide Sargasso Sea_).*Race concerns in source texts (characters of color and their fannishreception, fandoms for work by authors of color, writing fannishoriginal characters, etc.) and fannish responses (such as the CarlBrandon Society, Verb Noire, and other panfannish and professionalprojects).*Intersection of race and ethnicity with gender, sexuality, class, andability in fannish contexts in fan works and fan communities(pre-Internet, Internet, conventions, vids, fan fiction, artwork,etc.).SUBMISSIONSSubmit final papers directly to TWC by October 1, 2010. Please visitTWC's Web site (http://journal.transformativeworks.org/) for completesubmission guidelines. Please contact the guest editors with questionsor inquiries.ARTICLE TYPESTheory: Apply a conceptual focus or theoretical frame. Peer review.5,000-8,000 words.Praxis: Apply a specific theory to a formation or artifact; explicatefan practice; perform a detailed reading of a specific text; relatetransformative phenomena to social, literary, technological, and/orhistorical frameworks. Peer review. 4,000-7,000 words.Symposium: Provide insight into developments or debates surroundingfandom, transformative media, or cultures. Editorial review.1,500-2,500 words.
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The Story of Eve/the early years pt. 4

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on April 28, 2009 at 10:00pm
At the other end of the purity spectrum stood "Austin Stoneman:" abolitionist and all around bad guy. What's more he has a Black mistress: "Lydia Brown!" Stoneman's character was actually patterned to resemble Thaddeus Stevens, a true to life antislavery congressional leader and is he's thus depicted as: the leader who would force the South to grant blacks equal rights.Lydia as both his housekeeper and mistress is described as the "the weakness that is to blight a nation" (Leab, 1975 P.27).Too Black to pass for White, yet too White to live among her own kind, Lydia is the classic tragic mulatto and a powerful symbol. She is the femme fatale: the archetypal bitch who leaves death and destruction in her wake.Notice, readers if you will, her "male" characteristics: she is power hungry, aggressive and refuses to humble herself before White males. Throughout Birth of a Nationshe anguishes over her predicament as a Black woman in a hostile white world (Bogle, 1973; p.14).And Lydia is (drum roll if you please) sexual. No greater sin hath any woman. In fact, she is Birth of Nation's only passionate woman. Thus the myth of passion and sexuality as evil, as Original Sin, and of woman as its bearer was recreated on the Silver Screen....[Austin] determined to bring the South to its knees after itsdefeat is momentarily trapped by her Lydia's animalistic vibes...[She] "is his one weakness and the cause of his downfall (Bowser, p. 44)Juxtaposed between two polarities of Black and White stood Mammy: the asexual, Aunt Tomasina fiercely devoted to preserving the status quo. Griffith ever the demonic genius added another element to the Mammy configuration: Sapphire, a creature one part Mammy, one part Amazon; the Black woman who is an shrew in her relationship with Black men, the mythic ball buster and castrator of the Black male.Sapphire would become a full blown myth during the 1930s (Amos and Andy) to be reborn as the Black Matriarch of the 1960s.Whatever else Griffith was, he was a trend setter, and the molds he cast dominated the Silver Screen fordecades to come. For example in his portrayal of Mammy as dark skinned, he set the stage for the typecasting of darker Black women as unattractive well into the Civil Rights era.A dark black actress was considered for no role butthat of a mammy or aunt jemima. On the other hand, thepart-black woman -- the light skinned Negress -- wasgiven a chance at lead parts and graced with a modicumof sex appeal...In fact it was said in 1958 and 1970 thatthe reason why such actresses as Eartha Kitt in AnnaLucasta and Lola Falana in The Liberation of L.B. Jonesfailed to emerge as important screen love goddess wasthat they were too dark (Bogle, 1973; p.15).Copyright Valjeanne Jeffers 1997, 2009 all rights reserved
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Garren and the Ironic Dream - Another Ironics Short circa 2005

Posted by VD DeVau on April 27, 2009 at 10:40pm
Another bit of the Ironics story. I've been dusting off the pieces and looking them over and trying to decide if I will ever put them together and make them into something worth reading. This story was written before the one I posted previously. I keep coming back to this one, thinking that something is there, but I haven't returned to write it through to the end.The Ironic DreamTally’s breath was hot on Garren’s face. Garren closed his eyes against the steady press of air. Their bodies were tangled inside of the small space. Their pelvises touching, his legs spread, her two in between, his right arm encircling her waist, her right arm around his neck, their faces pushed together, her lips on his cheek by the bridge of his nose. All they had to do was stay quiet, stay intertwined, stay in hiding for a few more minutes and they would be back to their landing without being detected.Garren counted to himself. 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005…Noe had promised that they would be safe before 5000 measures. Two humans smuggled through the unsettled territories in the forbidden market cargo haul of an Ironic who traded outside of his kind would carry a large reward. Garren did not trust the oct-born Ironic with his life, but he was sure that Noe would never allow anything to happen to Tally. And that certainty would have to be enough.Garren felt himself being lulled by the hum of the vehicle and the feeling of the road passing underneath the wheels. He lost count. His aching muscles went numb. Sleep found him wedged between the woman he loved but couldn’t have and the hard metal backing of a crate.The dream began like it always had. Tally was standing waist deep in a pool of clear green water waving for him to join her. As usual he was unable to heed her plea no matter how much he longed to run out into the still surf. His feet were rooted to the ground and his body was rigid. Just behind Tally a figure rose out of the water, startling her. She turned and screamed as the tall Ironic grabbed her by both arms. Garren fought with his paralyzed body as the Ironic dragged her down. And just as her head sank beneath the surface, Garren’s attention was drawn to a movement to the extreme right of his field of vision and found he could move.Garren. A whisper on the wind chilling him from the top of his scalp to the soles of his feet.This was different. There was usually only the nightmare of Tally being pulled under. Garren watched his dreamself shift and move toward the sound. Expecting one person, Garren’s two selves – the dream one and the sleeping one who watched- were both confused when their eyes sought the voice and found its source not in one person but a veritable army of Ironics.I am meant for you.Garren was jostled awake when the car hit a bump in the road.“What did you say?” Tally inquired in a softer whisper than the one Garren had just heard in his dreams. His cheek tingled with each flex of her mouth as she spoke. “I am meant for you? What are you talking about?”“Shh, Tally. Be quiet.” Garren closed his eyes. He had no answer to her inquiry and everything his mind offered as an explanation would embarrass him and complicate their precarious situation even further. How could he tell her that he loved her when he was certain that she knew? How could he still love her after she had chosen to give herself to Noe and be marked by him? Ironics were not yet the enemy of their landing but they would be once the people found out about the true extent of their powers and ambitions. For now, the Ironics were to be feared and to be watched because the humans knew they had the ability to withstand great amounts of pain and force. When he revealed the secret of the Ironics, told the others how they jumped from body to body and read minds, showed the Council proof, the tenuous peace would end. Garren swallowed and tried not to hack. His throat was dry and raw and there was no salvia to lubricate his gulp. Tally would hate him.The cargo door was open and they were being lifted out before Garren allowed himself to open his eyes again. The place where Noe warehoused his illegal goods was a large windowless building. The humming light cubes suspended from the ceiling cast an omnipresent glow. There were no shadows in the cavernous space and Garren’s raw nerves felt even more exposed than they had been since he and Tally had been sent to investigate the Ironics.Out of the crate, just out of Garren’s embrace, Tally was in Noe’s arms. The Ironic dwarfed her and she seemed to revel in his alienness. Garren stared. Noe would be the first one the Council would want to kill Tally would hate him. And he would be glad.
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Join 22nd Century at the Book Expo

Posted by Diane on April 21, 2009 at 2:29pm
This is our first year as participants in Book Expo America - the premier event for the North American publishing industry - and we are plenty excited. BookExpo America will be held this year from Thursday, May 28 through Sunday, May 31 at the Jacob K. Javits Center in New York, NY.We thought it would be a good choice, even though we are painfully small, since the expo was slated to come to Washington, DC in 2010. All of that has been changed (to our chagrin), perhaps due to the economy. The BEA is now staying at the Javits Center for 3 more years.Sigh.Anyway, we will be there with our three new books: Federal City View, The Long, Steep Climb, and AfroCyberspace. We will also have previews of Insane Messiah - a speculative fiction book that delivers in October 2009. We will be offering special discounts on all orders placed during the show and free shipping on full case orders. We will also be promoting the Black Author Showcase community.Come by and check out our catalog, meet our authors, or just to say hi and give support. This is a big step for us and we look forward to meeting existing and new friends.Visit us at booth 2148 Directly behind the Tom Joyner Foundation (2248) - don't miss us!
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