If you're a Lightspeed Magazine subscriber, maybe you noticed a familiar name listed in the nonfiction column section of the February ebook edition. I am happy to announce that, starting with the February issue, I will be joining Amal El-Mohtar and Andrew Liptak in reviewing books for Lightspeed Magazine!
Four times a year, I'll review the latest fantasy and science fiction books that will be released around that time. This month, I review Six Wakes by Mur Lafferty, The Stars are Legion by Kameron Hurley and A Taste of Honey by Kai Ashante Wilson. It's available in Lightspeed's ebook edition now, and will be going live on Lightspeed's website on 2/21.
If you like what you read and want to support Lightspeed Magazine, subscriptions are just $35.88/year.
And yes, this is now my second gig with Lightspeed after slushing for them from 2009 through 2013. Guess I can't stay away, huh?
Bunch of shorter announcements for you today:
New Reprint Flash Story in Fantastic Stories
Back in October 2015, I wrote a flash story for the Vintage Podcastle Flash Fiction Extravaganza (PodCastle Episode 384). Well, now you can read that story in its entirety online for free! "The Summation of EvilCorp Subsidies HR Meeting Agenda Minutes, Compiled by Olivia Washington" is now up at Fantastic Stories! Not only is that the longest title I've ever made for a story to date, but I can vouch that the Peanuts mug mentioned in the story is real.
Okay, it's more a thermos cup than mug, but still. Also, you have no idea how much this cup kept me sane. So did writing that story. Speaking of which...
2016 Year in Review
I barely submitted anything for 2016 other than a poem that will be printed I think later this year. So I got nothing for 2016 award eligibility. And I've just started reading books again, because there was a period in 2016 that I wasn't reading at all.
But, 2016 was the most focused I've ever been writing-wise. The main thing is that I made great progress on my novel, Weeping of the Willows, to the point that I have about ten chapters left to revise. I will need one more revision draft to fix some plotting inconsistencies, but I'm finally beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. My hope is to finish this draft by April. I just need to figure out how I'll hit that deadline.
And oh! I wrote a novella and submitted it! That sort of happened out of the blue. I had meant it to be a short story, but well, like all my stories, it just got bigger and bigger. We'll see how far it goes.
Other blog thinky thoughts
I've been also thinking about doing more blog posts on faith and theological matters, but I'm not sure if this is the right place to do it. For the most part, it used to be easy to keep my writing and matters about my spiritual life separate. But the past couple of years have shown the two intertwining. I'm thinking of creating a space to process that, but I don't know if I can do it here at the Cafe. At least, not yet.
::sips tea from Peanuts mug::
So, thinking of options. Do I hop back on LiveJournal? Filtered posts on Facebook? Is there a way for WordPress to do locked blog posts, and if so, how? Old fashioned mailing list? Thoughts and suggestions appreciated.
And oh! I'm starting to keep a bullet journal. I'll blog more about that once I figure out what the heck I'm doing...
- Current Mood: accomplished
Last year, I wrote a sestina for the first time for my dayjob's Christmas party. I meant to post it, but never got around to it, so doing it this year. Enjoy!
A sestina is a six-stanza poem, each stanza composed of six lines, which end with six words that repeated throughout the poem in a fixed sequence, ending in a 3-line triplet that contains all six words.
Sestina for a Star
By the time you set forth your light
the earth was still being formed in joy.
Sin had yet to erase our hope.
Your light spanned eons, centuries across
history, until it finally reached our world
where it sat silent, waiting, in the dark.
Since Eden, man had fumbled in the dark
robbed of their peace and joy.
In money and power, many put their hope
while others simply forgot the light.
Because of this, you went across
cultures to make yourself known in the world.
The first ones to see you in this world
would be considered foreigners, seen as Other, across
Jerusalem. Seeing you gave them joy
for they were familiar with your light.
So, skin tones ranging from pale to dark,
they set forth tracking the sign of their hope.
Your news would be received well, they hoped.
Herod heard and his mind grew dark.
Months later, he'll kill to get his point across
that he was the only rightful ruler to the world.
So he asked the magi if they would enlighten
him of this child, who was to bring much joy.
He didn't understand; this child wouldn't enjoy
the material riches found in this world.
He had come for those who had lost hope,
for those fumbling for answers in the dark,
to pay off sins, to make burdens light:
the son of man, born to die on a cross.
God has placed you to shine across
the fields to shepherds filling them with hope,
to the magi filling them with awe and joy
as they reached a village quiet and dark,
to kneel before God’s son, given to the world
to banish fear and bring us back into the light.
Christmas Star, bring your light into this sad and broken world.
May it illuminate across the land, into our hearts hidden and dark,
comforting those who needs its hope, and lifting them up into joy.
Copyright © 2015 LaShawn M. Wanak
Do not copy without permission
Today we learned that Jack Chick, Evangelical Cartoonist, died at the age of 92.
I could've sworn I've written about him before. I remember doing so. It was a long post about horror and taboos and fundamentalism. Maybe it was on a reivew, or maybe it was on a blog post. The point is, I can't find it. So I'm putting it here, again.
I grew up on Chick Tracts. My church had them in their bookstore growing up, and I used to read them all the time. There were the "This Was Your Life", with the protagonist more bleah on his faults until he gets tossed into hell. "Somebody Loves You", which was a pretty grim about a street urchin, who is told by a girl that "Jesus Loves You" and then the urchin dies because, well, the girl gave the urchin books for a pillow and a jacket for warmth, but didn't like, take the urchin to a shelter. But that's okay because Jesus took the urchin in the end, so yay?
It hit me even at that early age that Jack Chick did not like Catholics. Or drunks. Or sinners. Or atheists. Or people who played Dungeons and Dragons (which I never understood). Or anyone, really. And neither did Chick's God. He was always faceless, shining so bright, but faceless. An angry, angry God that would readily condemn you for doing anything, anything wrong.
Jack Chick also did comic books, which went beyond putting the fear of God in you into, well disturbing. The comic books was where I learned Jack Chick really, really hated Catholics. There's an image that's been burned on my brain of some people (can't remember if they were the Inquisition or not )torturing a young pregnant woman. They had strapped her to a chair, pried her mouth open, and forced her to swallow some sort of bristly cloth by dripping water down her throat.
It was a grisly image, and I don't think our parents ever knew such a thing was right there among the bibles and story books.
Looking back on it now that I'm older, I'm realizing that what Jack Chick did could be considered horror. There's always a feeling of dread that almost bordered on demonic when you read his works. I got a stack of them now packed up with the rest of my books. I can't read them for long before feeling sick. Maybe it's because he saw anyone who wasn't Christian as a villian, so they became these sneering caricatures that made you wonder why God would be trying to save them in the first place. And if they did become Christian, in a way, it was worse, because they became these grinning, dead-eyed dolls praising God. It was really creepy. Even the art was always this ugly 60s-era grotesqueness, sort of like Mad Magazine back in the day, but eviler. And over time, it just got worse and worse.
Perhaps that's why it doesn't bother me to write horror sometimes. Jack Chick certainly had an impact on me growing up, and it shows in some of my work. And I've grown enough theologically to know that there's always something deeper to my faith. But still, I also recognize that there's a side to my faith that yes, can be brimstone and fire. It's a dark place, something to wrestle with.
I'm pretty sure though, that when it comes time to unpack my books, those Chick Tracks may stay in their box just a little bit longer. Maybe a year. Or two. Or ten.
People are asking me, "So, will you be at such-and-such-con this year? You should really come to so-and-so-con!"
First I think I need to fall back to the lesson I learned at Viable Paradise. I can only control what I write, when I write, and when I send it out. I can't control where I get published or what awards (if any) I get. I need to remember that everyone are in different points of their writing career paths. I just so happen to be in a busy time of life where the full-time writing dream will have to take a backseat. It sucks, I know, but I just need to keep writing. My output won't be the same as a full-time writer, and I'll just have to accept that for now. The good thing is that there are others like me in the same boat. So consider this post as an encouragement shout-out. Although really, I think I'm writing this post for me...
That said, I do need to look at how and when I submit things. There's a couple of stories that I was submitting a year ago before dayjob intruded, and I haven't really found a place for them. I think they're really good stories still. The question is, how do I proceed? Submitting them to new genres I think they'll fit? Self-publish? I also have a couple of reprints too that I need to get out there.
As for cons, I do plan to be at Oddcon on Saturday April 9, and I'll definitely be at WisCon the entire time. I'm even thinking about going to Convergence, mainly because I now know people up there. But this year I'm scaling back on volunteering. I feel like after what happened last year, I need to remember why I like going to cons in the first place.
So, there you go. I'm still around, still writing. You probably won't hear much from me, but I'll try to keep things posted. Best place to keep track of me would be on FB and Twitter. I still post there. I like to think of it as creating a small oasis of fun amidst all the drama and hate. And I'll just keep on writing. Because I'm a writer. Just keep on keepin on...
(And maybe because the whole Hugos slate thing appears to be starting up again, maybe it is best to keep my head low for now...)
- Current Mood: tired
So yesterday I finally got around to seeing Star Wars: The Force Awakens. Fell in love with it immediately--particularly the character of Finn. And in a way, seeing it has been useful in processing Urbana 15. Spoiler ahoy!
So what I loved most about Finn's characterization is that he's not strong from the offset. He's just 'awakened' to himself and realizing that what he's doing is wrong, so he wants out. But not so much to fight. He's more about self-preservation, which is totally within his right to do so.
But when Rey gets captured, suddenly, his self-preservation no longer matters to him. Because he connected with her, instead of taking the easy way out, he goes to save her...and he is badly hurt because of it. There's no reunion of them at the end. Our last shot of him is him unconscious in a medical ward. His worst fear comes true. But the point is...he went anyway, even though he was scared, even though he knew he wasn't a hero.
For the past 14 months, I've been pretty much in "keep your head down" mode. Most of that was due to my dayjob spiraling up in stress, but most of that was also just seeing so much happening in the social media world over the push for diversity. The Hugos and the Sad/Rabid Puppies. Stuff with my dayjob. News media and shootings and open carry and outrage and more outrage and doxing...until it felt like my voice didn't matter. Anything I said would be said in vacuum. And too much was being said anyway, by people who said it much better than me. What more could my voice add?
So I kept quiet and hid. I stopped writing on my blog. I only posted on Facebook to my closest friends. And that intermittedly.
At Urbana 15, one of the sights that stuck out to me was catching a glimpse of Greg Jao, our VP of Campus Engagement, talking with Michelle Higgins, who spoke at Urbana on the #BlackLivesMatter movement. She was already getting pushback from her talk, so she and Greg were talking about the clarification statement IV was putting out on their website. What struck me was how they wanted to make sure they were communicating things right, in that Michelle wasn't speaking for InterVarsity, but at the same time putting weight on her words as a guest of Urbana. They were getting so much pushback (and by default, so was our office. Can't tell you how many phone calls and emails we got, including some from 'concerned Christians' who pretty much told us to go to hell, along with other words that pretty much wasn't Christianly.)
But Michelle was willing to take the heat. And so was Greg.
When I went to Ferguson and saw with my own eyes the place in the street where Mike Brown's body laid for hours, I was startled by the sudden rage I felt--not just for his death, and his narrative will be that of someone 'deserving' of such a death, but also for the people living in the apartment complex near him who had to see such and act. And, yes, also for the police that their own narrative was knocked awry. That now, they will no longer be seen as protectors, but oppressors. That no one will ever trust them.
At one of the Urbana Seminars, Rev. Karen Anderson, who was also one of the pastors who marched in Ferguson, talked about finding a space and fitting in. "There's more to #BlackLivesMatter than just marching and protesting. Look for what is needed, then fill it." It resonated with me because I'm not the marching type, but I'm good at helping behind the scenes. I guess, for the past fourteen months, I've been trying to figure out how I'd fit within the whole movement. But doing my dayjob helps. and being a writer helps.
And that my job, as a writer, is to change the narrative.
So many people are working to change the narrative. From those working with #BlackLivesMatter, to those working racial reconciliation, to those fighting to get diverse books and games out, And they're doing it, not because they're heroes--some are quite frightened to do so, and they bear so much hate. But they also know that people are dying, so they're, to use a Christianese phrase "counting the cost".
Just like Finn.
So, uh, Star Wars. I loved it. And Urbana...I loved that too. And I can't believe I was able to meld the two into a semi-coherent post.
- Current Mood: thankful
2. Writing for Urbana Today: Probably the most balanced Urbana Assignment I ever had for my introvert and extrovert side.
3. Being in a black space to process #BlackLivesMatter through the use of song, spoken word, and poetry. Wow. Wowwww...
4. My hotel had an underground casino. Did yours?
5. My hotel had so many more black people chillaxing by the casino. Did yours?!
6. BLACK PEOPLE BLACK PEOPLE SO MANY BLACK PEOPLE IT WAS AWESOME.
7. Being with my family for my uncle's funeral completely fit in with Urbana's unspoken "Being Present" theme.
8. Ferguson looked exactly like my neighborhood. Not the one I grew up in. The one I live in now.
9. Still processing the trip to Ferguson. So many feelings.
10. I am incredibly tired.
and 11. So. Many. Black. HAIRSTYLES.
- Current Mood: exhausted
Currently in St Louis, attending the Urbana Missions Conference, and based on my job here, thought I should get back into the habit of doing quick journals. So I'm going to post these at my journals and FB. Let see how it goes.
So. Urbana. This is going to be a most interesting week. My job here at the conference is writing articles for Urbana Today, the daily newsletter. My schedule will basically be like this: at 7pm, all the writers meet with our editor Lisa, who will give out assignments for the following day. The assignments range from quick statements from students focused on a question of the day, to full blown interviews, to seminar write ups. The next day, we go out to our respective assignments, then first drafts of article write ups are due by 4pm. The articles get sent to proofreaders, yada yada yada, and we re-convene at 7pm to get our next assignment. The articles go to print at night and are ready the next morning.
This works well considering that tomorrow I'm going to be taking the Greyhound to my Uncle's funeral and coming back the same night. Our assignments are flexible, so I can make it super light, such as just talking to students, or more involved. Wednesday, I'll be covering the "Ferguson is Now" panel. I also hope to get to the different ethnic lounges.
It feels weird that I'm finally putting my Journalism degree to work...19 years later.
Right. Off to my first assignment, which involves interviewing the IVP bookstore. BECAUSE BOOKSTORES.
- Current Mood: sleepy
It's done! It's all over! I can finally relax!!! Actually, no I can't because my brother in law comes in two weeks but ALL MY CONS ARE DONE (for now).
This was the most intense con season I had. Not so much because of the work I had to do as WisCon's GoH Liasion for Alaya Dawn Johnson. That was fun and easy. A big part of it had to do that that WisCon took place during the same week that my dayjob moved to a new building, which was a culmination of six stressful months in the making. But the biggest part of why it was intense was because WisCon, like so many other things happening in other circles of my life, is going through a shift, mainly due to fallout from the last couple of years and people leaving the concom, either voluntarily or involuntarily. Too long a story: you can catch it here and here.
Being on the ground here in the Madison, I got to hear a lot of views .I listened to those pushing for change. I listened to those who were hurt and outraged at what was going on. I listened to those who didn't understand what was going on. I listened to people on the concom, those who left and those who came on. I listened to people here in Madison and those who came to WisCon from far off. I've listened and watched and had numerous conversations with people.
I'm going to be up front. I don't know feminist movement history well. I can't even say fully that I'm a feminist. My reluctance of labeling myself as such falls in line with the whole feminist/womanist discussion, the latter of which I gravitate more towards. (Note to self: add Alice Walker's In Search of Our Mothers’ Garden: Womanist Prose to the to-read pile.) So it was interesting to hear all the different opinions of how WisCon was in regards to first wave feminism versus second wave feminism versus...whatever wave we happen to be in now. I think, however there's more to it than that.
Before I get into that, first, I feel compelled to give you a back history on my own experience with cons. Because context and all.
My first con was OddCon in 2009. It was the first time I met an editor, Jim Frenkel. We wound up talking for a while about the writing biz. I thought him an odd bird who swore too much, but it was neat to learn that there was an actual editor who lived in my town. Later, I was taken aside and given the missing stair talk. You know what I mean. Since I had just met him, I duly noted it and decided to keep an eye on him, just in case. I should also note that to me, he was professional, courteous, and generally friendly.
And that's the thing. Being local, Frenkel always shown me that side of professional courtesy because 1) I'm local, 2) I'm not his type (thankfully). A lot of people are yelling online for his head, but here, in Madison, he acts different. There are people who've known him in Madison and have always seen that friendly side. And if they never go online, they don't know. So yes, they find it hard to believe when they hear the stories. I'm not excusing his behavior. Nor of those of his supporters. But I want you to see what I'm dealing with.
So what do I do? Treat him like a pariah? Go out of my way to avoid him forever and ever? Or do I keep on doing what I'm doing now, keep a wary eye on him, Those who know his harassing side have done their best to warn others of his behavior. I reckon I'll fall in the same boat. I don't know.