BLOGS

All Posts (6429)

Sort by

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.
Read more…

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!
Read more…

22nd Century Press Gets Publishers Weekly Mention

Posted by Diane on April 14, 2009 at 12:24am
The article sidebar Issues of Race in SF in this weeks' (April 13th) Publishers Weekly has a quote from BAS founder and 22nd Century Press publisher, Diane Williams.Writer Rose Fox takes a quick look at two presses who produce speculative fiction for non-white readers and authors.http://www.publishersweekly.com/article/CA6651138.html"Publishers Weekly", "22nd Century Press", "Black Author Showcase", SciFi, writers, authors, books
Read more…

How to Put Black into Speculative Fiction

Posted by Stafford Battle on April 13, 2009 at 2:30pm
NOTE: The following is an article that I submitted to Publisher's Weekly for their "ethnic" sf edition, the week of April 13, 2009. PW contacted me and said they liked it but could only use parts of my story and not the entire piece. I wanted to share with the BSF SOCIETY my complete thoughts on how the mainstream industry should approach the development and promotion of Black SF.

What Makes Science Fiction and Fantasy Afrocentric?

The publishing world has seen the swelling growth and profitability of Black romance and urban novels. Booksellers and public libraries are stocking their shelves with publications that offer gritty tales of the dark mean streets or outrageous Black gangsters. But there is another wave on the horizon; another genre that may soon rival the expensive cars, dangerous pimps and desperate ex-cons; a rising tide of titles that offer hi-tech space ships, cunning barbarians, and savvy time travelers featuring African Americans characters in Black sci-fi and fantasy.Black Science Fiction (or Afrofuturism) as well as “Sword-and-Soul” loosely can be defined as an intellectual and cultural movement that explores the African American relationship with new technology, musings of the future, and heroic fantasies.Sci-fi and its cousins featuring characters of Caucasian background have been around since Jules Verne and H. G. Wells in the 1800s. But today what defines “Black” sci-fi? It is more than simply putting a dark tan on Flash Gordon or giving Superman kinky hair. In my humble opinion (IMHO), before any fantasy, sci-fi, or other speculative fiction story can be classified as Black or African American oriented it must meet at least three of the following five conditions:1) The author should be of African heritage2) The main character should be Black3) The setting should be in Africa or Harlem4) Historical or current social conditions should be unique to people of color5) The narrative or dialogue should resonant with “Blackness”The Author Should be of African HeritageAn obvious indicator that a sci-fi novel truly may be Afrocentric is if its author is Black. Samuel Delany, Charles Saunders, Octavia Butler, Steven Barnes and many others are Black authors who write afrocentric sci-fi. Yet, all good writers have the ability to offer stories told from a variety of viewpoints. Delany, winner of the Nebula Award for 1966 and 1967, offers stories where skin color is not an issue and is not even mentioned. In Butler’s Xenogenesis Series, aliens are the main characters with only an occasional appearance of a person of color. Conversely, Mike Resnick a white author who has won 5 Hugo awards, creates well crafted sci-fi tales about Africa and people of African descent in Kirinyaga: A Fable of Utopia and Ivory: A Legend of Past and Future.Main CharacterAfrican American readers yearn for strong Black characters in their sci-fi and fantasy literature; male or female, hero or villain. On the web at the Black Science Fiction Society ( http://www.Blacksciencefictionsociety.com ) or the Black Author Showcase (www.Blackauthors.ning.com ) bloggers complain of not having enough Black Superheroes. Personally, I’d rather see more Black villains; more would-be-world-conquerors, psychotic punishers seeking bloody revenge, and mad geniuses constructing grandiose schemes of self-gratification. Without the Joker, Batman would be a sad vigilante chasing purse snatchers in dark alleys. Strong Black sci-fi villains, give us even stronger Black heroes and noteworthy, award-winning authors. My vote for the strongest Black villain to date would be Doro in Octavia Butler’s Wild Seed and Mind of My Mind.The Setting: Africa or HarlemMost Sword-and-Soul is set in Africa or an analogue of an Africa-like place on a different planet or other reality. Harlem, New York, or a similar urban neighborhood can be a proper geographic location for Black sci-fi. George Schuyler’s Black Empire uses Harlem and Africa as important backdrops. These locales allow characters to interact with people of color and be closely involved with the problems and solutions at the street or village level. Of course, Black people inhabit every corner of the planet, but its where Black communities have traditionally endured and prospered that makes this type of setting an important element in Black Sci-Fi. It is impractical, however, for a novel to include only one setting, but at the very least, the main characters should travel and have some significant interaction in Africa or in an urban community.Historical or Social Conditions Unique to People of ColorUntil around the 18th Century, slavery was not inflicted upon a person solely because of color or race. Anyone who lost a war or the favor of the king or chief could be tossed into slavery. However, in America, the heartless bondage of human beings became an uniquely Afrocentric institution. Jim Crow and Civil Rights issues also most adversely affected African Americans. Using time-travel, Butler’s Kindred was an illuminating example of the effects of slavery on Black people, past and present. Furthermore, African Americans have a special influence on world culture but not just limited to music (blues, jazz or hip hop) and sports (basketball, boxing); for instance, Black soldiers faced unique circumstances on the homefront and on the battlefield. Black fiction should employ a variety of special circumstances in a story.Narrative and DialogueThank the lucky stars, that most first-rate, modern writers don’t over populate their work with slang, jargon, or southern dialect that makes reading tedious: “You wants to keep 'way fum de water as much as you kin, en don't run no resk, 'kase it's down in de bills dat you's gwyne to git hung.” – Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Yet, good writers can subtly select the right words and context to let readers know that a Black character is speaking. The very best writers can create characters who change their patterns of speech depending upon to whom the characters are communicating. Moreover, the language and description of events in a Black speculative work must be “hip” as well as reflect the collective mind of the Black diaspora.SummaryThis assessment of what makes fiction “really” Black is by no means a rigorous dissertation nor critical analysis of the conditions that must occur to guarantee the ethnicity of a literary work because there are so many exceptions to the rules. Consider these thoughts to be general guidelines to make the promotion of Black Sci-fi and Fantasy more profitable.About the Writer:Stafford L. Battle is the author of Insane Messiah (22nd Century Press, 2009); Afrocyberspace:1000+ Websites That Will Enrich Your World (22nd Century Press, 2009); The African American Resource Guide to the Internet and Online Services (McGraw-Hill, 1996). According to Mr. Battle, his sci-fi novel Insane Messiah best satisfies the following conditions. 1) The author is an African American; 2) The main characters are Black, and 3) Africa is a primary setting in the book.Copyright 2009, Stafford Battle & 22nd Century Press, LLC
Read more…

IMMMORTAL: III: Stealer of Souls/excerpt

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on April 5, 2009 at 7:00pm
Annabelle wanted to touch him. So used to taking whatever she wanted, she was moved when *** shyly pulled her closer… He molded his body to hers, his breathing echoing her own: ragged and harsh.“Let’s go outside,” he whispered. The Indigo woman let him lead her one block away into an alleyway. She threw her arms about his neck…and their tongues danced... (censored)Annabelle lifted one leg to curl around him…she was giving of herself with no quarter -- tossing care to the wind. What spell had this human cast over her with his soft eyes and whispers, his compassion and longing?With a moan she let him carry her forward into a river of desire… (censored)From the corner of her eye she saw them.Three men blocked the alleyway. The leader standing at the forefront was Indigo; another to his right and behind him Fuchsia; and the man to his left Amber. They were dressed in planet uniforms. But their tunics were unbuttoned and the interlocking green tattoos on their chests and bellies marked them as Scorpion gang members.Now Annabelle remembered that Topaz gangs roamed the streets after dark preying on those unfortunate -- or foolish -- enough to be out.*** saw them and pulled away from her, hastily zipping up his pants. The Indigo man smiled unpleasantly: “My turn next, right brother?” His friends laughed.She pulled her skirt down, her eyes darting from one to the other. None of them was holding a weapon. Confident that they outnumbered their prey, they hadn’t bothered to draw them. But she spied the knives and firearms holstered in their waistbands.Annabelle waited for the inevitable.*** stepped in front of her, hands held out in a gesture of surrender. “We don’t have any money, man!”“Oh I can’t see that,” the leader rumbled. “Good thing we don’t want any, right?” The thugs laughed again. “You standing in front of what we want. Now if you’ll just move outta the way, we’ll help ourselves.”“Come on man -- !” *** pleaded.“I said move!”*** didn’t bulge, though he was shaking. For the second time that day, she was shocked. He was ready to give up his life…for her?“Please, just let us go home --”The leader pulled the blade from pants, pressed its button and a six inch knife popped out. “You don’t do hear so good -- do you?” He advanced on them.Like lightening she blurred around ***, grabbed him by his shoulders and breathed green midst into his mouth.“What the f--- ?!”“Shit!”Even before *** eyes glazed over in hypnosis she turned to face the Indigo thug, her tunic whipping around in speed. The dark woman grabbed his throat, lifted him and threw him across the street… While his friends looked on in stunned amazement.As he slammed into the lamp post there, she leaped --airborne -- and touched down to meet him swinging her foot in a roundhouse arc against his temple. His head whipped to the right and she heard a satisfying snap, as his neck broke.Behind Annabelle his friends had regained their senses and, exchanging incredulous glances, pulled their tasers and leveled them at her back. Topaz could be a strange place, especially at night. After all, this was the Time of Legend. Best not to dwell on it.Annabelle jumped into the air -- taser fire shattered the windows behind the lamp post where she’d stood only a moment ago -- and landed in front of them. Laughing, she snatched the weapons from their grasp, and dropped them to the concrete.The nosferatu shoved the Fuchsia man into the building on her right, knocking the wind out of him. His Amber crony screamed in terror and fled.Annabelle jerked the Fuchsia’s thug head to the side violently and drank....Copyright 2008 Valjeanne Jeffers all rights reserved
Read more…

11pm CST Saturday - In Like Flynn - Penelope and Otto talk all things social and sexual!

Posted by Penelope on April 4, 2009 at 9:21pm

ON IN LIKE FLYNN TONIGHT!

Penelope and Otto talk about issues From Food Stamps to Nutritional Assistance and from Looters to Survivors - how the social vocabulary changes based on class and color. Inappropriate touching - from London to South Africa. Blagovevich is indicted - how people cannot see themselves as others see them. Penelope is finally launching Renfields and Penelope and Otto discuss the products and services that make life, better! And Penelope offers the ladies one of her proven sexual techniques! Penelope and Otto talk about all other things social and sexual tonight from 11pm CST Saturday night - 12:30am!

 Listen to In Like Flynn on internet talk radio

Join us Saturday Night 11pm CST online, via phone at 718/508-9683 or in the Chat room to get with us and have your say!

Read more…

My poetry has been published in Liberated Muse Volume I: How I Freed My Soul: the Featured Book at Upcoming Capital Hip Hop Soul Fest in DC

Posted by Valjeanne Jeffers on April 1, 2009 at 8:00pm
Hey Dolls and Guys:I just wanted to let you that my poem: "First Breath" was chosen for inclusion inLiberated Muse Vol I: How Freed My Soul!The book Liberated Muse Volume I: How I Freed My Soul is planned for a April25 release. The book is an anthology of creative work from writers and visualartists from around the world. Some of the contributors to the anthology includejournalist and poet Nabina Das, Omar Akbar who is a hip hop lyricist known asLabtekwon, science-fiction writer Valjeanne Jeffers and visual artists Turtel Onliand Sharon Burton. Noted author Ananda Leeke writes the book's Foreword.For inquiries regarding Liberated Muse Volume I: How I Freed My Soul, contact LiberatedMuseProductions@gmail.com. (Outskirts Press, Inc.)I'm very excited and I wanted to share the news:) Much love to my BSFS Family:).
Read more…

book trailer for The Shadow Speaker and an excerpt for my forthcoming adult novel, Who Fears Death

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on April 1, 2009 at 3:40pm
The paperback of my 2nd novel, The Shadow Speaker, was just released. My oh so talented brother, Emezie Okorafor, has done a brief book trailer for the book. View it hereAlso, along with an excerpt of the Shadow Speaker (read it here), I've posted an excerpt from my forthcoming novel, Who Fears Death. Read it here.Nnedinnedi.com
Read more…

THE BLACK PANTHER COMIC BOOK SIGNING

Posted by The Cushite on March 30, 2009 at 6:12am

Hudlin Entertainment, Golden Apple Comics, ComicBookResources.com and Christian GonzalezCordially invite you to attend"THE BLACK PANTHER COMIC BOOK SIGNING"Saturday, April 4, 2009@ GOLDEN APPLE COMICS7018 Melrose AvenueLos Angeles, California 90038http://www.goldenapplecomics.com2:00 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.EARLY ARRIVAL IS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED!Meet Reginald A. Hudlin, Producer/Director/Writer/Creator.Purchase his newest comic book series from Marvel Entertainment, "Black Panther",and get it autographed by the creator himself.http://www.hudlinentertainment.comhttp://www.imdb.com/name/nm0399737
Read more…

A little fun time

Posted by Night Manager on March 26, 2009 at 9:30pm
Just a little fun with the main character of my soon to be published book: The Serpent CultTOMCAT Verses...I take a deep breath, fill my lungs deep, and feel my tense pectorals stretch over my ribs. Then I let it out slow, pushing it through clenched teeth, and let my shoulders settled back into place. It helps, my mind is quiet and I begin to focus. Focus is of the utmost importance. Otherwise I lose and Rock City falls.The rotten floor boards push up against my feet. I can feel the give in the wood as I shift my weight. My laces are too tight, I was anxious when I tied my sneakers up. There’s a vein running across the top of each arch that pulses in rhythm, pushing blood under the taught laces. The bandages wrapped around each ankle expand ever so slightly in tune with the pulsing blood. It’s a good rhythm, it helps me focus.Focus is the key. Visualization… actualization.A warm Mountairy Rock breeze blows easily in through the broken windows on the west side of the building. It slides around my bare calves, pushes against my black denim shorts, and tickles the tips of my dangling fingers. My long field jacket is tied around my waist and it flutters and waves, pulling at me,forcing me to shift my weight slightly,pushing my toes against the soft wooden floor boards,that give just a little.Focus. Inhale again.I draw in another good breath and hold it for a moment.With focus I can visualize…Tension eases out of my neck as I exhale. I shift my weight and push against the floor. My calves flex, the muscles going solid and tight, and rise to tip toe. Then my thighs tighten and my heels come back down onto the wood, giving me my foundation; like the bottom of a mountain, unmovable.Visualize… a mountain… a billion tons of weight baring down… a billion tons of rock… of power… Focus. Need to focus.I’m only going to get one shot at a good first impression.The billion tons of power sits in my legs all the way down to my toes. I stack more on top; my butt clenches, my abs tightens, and I focus.Stack the power, tighten up my chest.I feel the billion tons of rock pushing against my lungs, making it hard to breath.I stack more on, my mountain gets bigger.My shoulders tighten, then my arms, and the billion tons pull at my neck but I still stack it on.I have to. Almost time.Focus…My hands clench into rock hard fists. A billion tons of rock pull down on them. The floor creaks beneath me.Hard to breath.My neck tightens, then my jaw sets hard. My lips draw into a sneer as tight cheek muscles pull on them. My nostrils flare, my eyes draw to slits, and my brow furrows; rock stacked on top of rock. My lungs can no longer draw breath. Almost time.Visualize.A billion tons of rock, stacked, pushing down… power. I use that power to draw breath…My lungs ARE rock, but they still draw breath.My muscles ARE rock… I draw my left fist up… the floor creaks as I shift my weight.Focus… visualize… actualize…I remember what she told me: “Nothing… nothing is beyond your power. If you can see it, you can do it. Focus is the key.”I can feel the power, and none too late. He’s here. I hear the cape first, fluttering as he pushes through the breeze at the window behind me. Then his feet come down onto the tenement floor...… Softly, he has a lot of grace for a being of such power. His breathing is even. Why should it be otherwise? He has nothing to worry about.He projects his voice well. It’s full of confidence, not arrogance, and that’s to be expected. The man has always won in the end. He does have the power of a mythic god.“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me sir.”“Sir”? He betrays himself, showing a little condescension with that. He’s here to imprison me, to help turn my city into a pit full of refugees and he wants to call me “sir”?I convert some power and turn my head 90 degrees to look over my right shoulder. He’s big, might be an inch taller than me. And he’s been flying for over a couple of hundred miles and his hair looks perfect…well, it looks done… what’s with that “S” curl?“Sir please”I don’t answer. Mostly because I don’t think I can even open my mouth right now, but it’s not like he deserves an answer anyway. I told him what I would do if he came here. He’s about to find out.Focus… don’t lose it now.He begins to stride forward in those ridiculous red boots. I never REALLY looked at this outfit before. Are those red “hot pants” over a blue leotard?“I’ve been asked by the President of the United States to apprehend you. You’ve been warned Sir that your actions are too…” I don’t get the rest of what he’s saying… I’ve got to focus. Get it right.A billion tons of rock. A mountain. A pressing great weight. An unbelievable amount of power. FOCUS.“… you’re coming with me to answer.,.”The rock that’s stacked, presses down, but it’s a simple matter to get it to press where I want it to. I convert rock to power and it rides from toe to ankle, from ankle to knees, from knees to hips, to shoulders, to arms, to fist.I turn and a mountain moves. Floor boards rip and splinter as my sneakers turn, digging into them. One arm… my right, drops and the other raises, with a fist sitting on its end.I’m bringing the mountain to Mohammed.He’s fast, no doubt, but overconfident. He simply raises a hand to catch mine. Hell, he’ll probably even give a little so as not to break my arm. Good of him to be as sporting as he attempts to make me a fellow slave.But the man’s not expecting a billion tons of rock to be sitting behind this fist. His palm catches my fist dead in its center, and is promptly snapped nearly in half as a billion tons of rock barrel through. The pain must the worst he’s ever felt. Not that he hasn’t been hurt before, but when something new happens to you it always seems to be a worse pain.But the hand was not my target and the billion tons of rock plow on until meeting him right in the middle of his face. Since he “knew” he was going to catch my punch, he never bothered to move or duck.I don’t get to see the damage. A billion tons of rock is a lot of force… I watch as he’s blown back out of the tenement and far into the night sky. I scream after him…“TAKE YOUR PUNK AS BACK TO METROPOLIS!”That had to shake him! But I doubt he’s done for any good amount of time. So now I move the mountain.Gotta make him earn it, keep him off balance. Must be perfect… FOCUS…Thighs made of a billion tons of rock shift and move, a billion pounds of rock lifts off of creaking bending floor one foot at a time and then slam back down in hammering succession. The old tenement groans in agony as I run for the west window and leap…A warm blast of Great Lake air greets me as I vault through the air between abandoned buildings. It’s so fresh, so clean, it reminds me of how much I love this place, of how much is on the line.Focus… convert…The window on the next building, an old warehouse, is still intact. A billion tons of rock cannot be stopped by glass and wood. There’s a wonderful explosion of shimmering, moonlight filled, triangle shaped blades of “used to be window.” Through a field of floating spinning mirrored reflections of myself I spy the floor rushing up.A billion tons of rock lands on hard tiled floor but only the falling glass makes a sound. Like the last burst of falling rain the window remnants settled onto the floor around me. As the room quiets I close my eyes and listen. It shouldn’t be too long now.I don’t hear it first, I feel it. My body is bathed in a sick kind of heat. The room is flooded with it. Word is that this guy can see through walls, this must be how. Somehow he irradiates an area, then “reads” the feedback. Like an X-ray…I wonder how low my sperm count just got.The “rays” cool off and I know he’s got my position. He’ll come at me now, but how? Probably have only a second to figure it out.Did I really nail him? Is he hurt? How much?He’s been beat on before, I’ve heard. He’s been pushed… but again; how hard?Was my sucker punch really in HIS league? Or am I just kidding myself?He comes from behind me. That means I did hurt him. Otherwise he would just confront me again, but he’s being careful.It’s sudden, right through the wall with a sound I would imagine a speeding locomotive might make cashing through a tall building. Debris flies all around me but none actually hits me. I guess he’s been doing this kind of thing for awhile now. The only thing flying at me is his fist.He’s pulling the punch, I can tell, it is way too easy to dodge. Still I take the gift and dive toward him instead of away. Timing and balance are important now, gotta keep him off balance. I see a blurry snapshot of his face and the blood splatter under his nose is bright and apparent. Got him good with that first punch.Focus, Visualize, Actualize…His steel fist rockets past my face at a speed that makes me reconsider his “pulling” of this punch. My hips swivel, my shoulders rotate, and I snap my right hand shut into a fist. FOCUS…Power isn’t what’s needed here… aim is. I bring that billion tons of rock around and swing it into the base of his jaw. There’s a loud “pop” and the man of steel crumbles in mid flight, and spins out of control into and through the far wall.Got to stay on him now, so I jump through the hole after him to find him on the floor holding his jaw with his good hand. Yeah… he’s almost beat. Still there’s work to be done.I didn’t break his jaw, and I didn’t really expect to. The broken nose and snapped hand I gave him were big wins but not ones that were likely to be repeated so soon. No, it didn’t break, but what happened was much worse. Funny thing about the way the jaw is made, it’s tough, hard, and in the case of a man of steel, virtually unbreakable. But with a enough leverage, or a blow to the right spot, that same jaw will pop right off its hinge.Supes is panicking right now, holding his loose, out of place, jaw wondering how the hell someone like me was able to do that. As much as he’s probably been through I bet he’s never had that happen. It shows… he’s all about his jaw right now. Not like it’s the worst pain someone could feel, to the contrary, a dislocated jaw doesn’t hurt as much as a severe headache, but it’s the strangest sensation for someone who’s never had it happen to them. It can feel like half your face is gone and every facial muscle that twitches seems to pull on it. Right now he’s all about the jaw.Now for my real problem; if I can finish it. I running so hot right now that I doubt I could get my focus back. So more than likely anything I try to do to him right now would only tell him that I’m not in his class. I don’t want that. So instead I try to psyche him out.I don’t threaten him. That would challenge him.I don’t boast. He may reflect and realize that he’s not that hurt.Instead I tell him about himself. I tell him about Mt. Airy. And I tell him why we don’t want him here.I tell him his body sucks the sunlight right out of the Rockwoods. Not true but he does absorb a good amount of Solar radiation, it makes him stand out against the warm summer background. Standing here next to him is like standing in a cold spot. I tell him his “alien” scent is disrupting the wildlife here. Maybe in a city like Metropolis nothing changes but the animals here in Mt. Airy are in a stir.His eyes flicker at that. Looks like I hit a nerve. Despite his predicament I can see that he’s considering what I’m saying. I wonder how much time he’s spent in rural areas. Maybe he never really paid attention to what was going on around him but he’s thinking about it now.He stands up, holding his out of place jaw with one hand. His bright blue and red outfit is covered in the dirt, filth, and concrete debris from the tenement. He stares at me and I know he wants to say something. Something about how I have to answer to the Government. How Mt. Airy Rock has to bend.I look him dead in his eye and tell him that whatever might happen, it will happen without him. I tell him not to come back. I tell him that he does not want to make this fight about him and I. Because I’m defending my home and that means next time he won’t get the free pass I gave him today.That last part wasn’t a threat to scare him, it was truth. Before this fight I got a couple of offers from others here in this city to help take him down. Another protector knew of a substance that he was vulnerable to. It was my hope that I could end this without grave consequences.Still a huge risk though he really is much too powerful to just let walk out of here. He could still come back. But I believe his intentions are good even if his actions would lead to the destruction of my home. So I let him go, knowing full well that if I see him again, somebody’s going to die. If he comes back here I will have no choice but to kill SUPERMAN.
Read more…

Starting a New Manuscript

Posted by Malcolm Dylan Petteway on March 24, 2009 at 5:37pm
I started my fifth manuscript today. It is different than the four books I wrote for the Osguards series. I'm trying to stretch my talent on this one and see what I can do. I don't want to say too much right now...not until I have a good portion of the manucript committed to paper. But let me tell you that it is tough switching gears and writing about another world after I've spent almost eight years perfecting the world I have written for the Osguards. I guess my question to the group is, 'How difficult do you find it to build different worlds and characters for different stories?"Malcolm "Rage" Petteway
Read more…

Shadow Speaker paperback soon available and some character sketches

Posted by Nnedi Okorafor on March 19, 2009 at 4:30pm
The paperback of my 2nd novel, The Shadow Speaker, will be available on March 24th, 2009. Please contact me through my Myspace page or website if you are interested in a signed copy.A little about the book:Niger, West Africa, 2070: After a nuclear fallout in the early twenty-first century, the earth's civilization has been completely transformed. Magic, mysticism, and mind-blowing technology now rule the world. In West Africa, fourteen-year old Ejii struggles to master her own magical powers. When her world is completely upended after she witnesses her father's death, Ejii faces a unique opportunity to explore her power and realize her destiny. But is she ready for the responsibility that comes along with that? Embarking on a journey across the Sahara, Ejii befriends new allies and battles dangerous foes. It soon becomes clear that her people need to be protected from a terrible force seeking to annihilate them. And Ejii may just be their last hope for survival. Fast-paced and full of tender friendships and thrilling action, this futuristic adventure heralds a bright new talent in young adult science fiction.It’s easy to name a dozen fantasy novels set in England but, save for Nancy Farmer’s futuristic book “The Ear, the Eye and the Arm,” difficult to think of one set anywhere in Africa — just one of many unexpected pleasures in Nnedi Okorafor-Mbachu’s novel “The Shadow Speaker”...This novel — like the author’s first, “Zahrah the Windseeker” (2005) — leaves little doubt that Okorafor-Mbachu’s imagination is stunning.-- The New York TimesHere are a few character sketches that my illustrator brother (Emezie Okorafor) did of Ejii Ugabe, Dikeogu Obidimkpa and the mysterious and tricky Desert Magician:

EjiiAfter witnessing the beheading of her father, she was appalled to realize...she was happy.

DikeoguIf you'd been through what he's been through, you would dispise chocolate, too. And you would also fear the skies.

The Desert MagicianHe finds water where there is none.Watch for the book trailer for The Shadow Speaker in a few days, also designed by my brother.Buy The Shadow Speaker at Anderson’s Bookshop, Barnes and Nobles, Amazon, Powell’s, and many other book-loving places.
Read more…

Older Writers' Grant Looking for Applications

Posted by Malon Edwards on March 18, 2009 at 6:01pm
The deadline for the Speculative Literature Foundation's Older Writers' Grant is fast approaching! The grant of $750 is available to any writer of speculative literature of 50 years or older at the time of application who is just beginning to work professionally in the field. There are no restrictions on the use of the grant money.Applicants are asked to submit a brief autobiographical statement, a writing sample, and a bibliography. For full details on how to apply for the grant, please see the SLF web site: http://www.speculativeliterature.org/Grants/SLFOlderWriters.php, or email olderwriters@speclit.org. Applications must be received by March31st 2009. The successful applicant will be announced on June 1, 2009.
Read more…