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The Honey Mummy

If you know anything about me, you should know one thing: I am not good at being patient. Waiting is the hardest thing. Not having a thing when you really want a thing? Clearly the worst!

Being an author who is often put in a position where they have to sit on Really Good News? Impossible! Thank goodness for the ability to squeal to friends in private, or climb up on the rooftop and yawp.

Look — I’ve made you wait two whole paragraphs for the brilliant news. When we last left Folley and Mallory, they’d wrangled with Anubis and Horus over some ancient bones in the catacombs of Paris. And now?

Things are about to get very sticky.

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Art and design by Ravven

Alexandria, Egypt ~ December 1889

A mummy bound in honey.
An auction of archaic wonders.
An immortal link to the past.

Beneath the streets of Alexandria, Agent Cleo Barclay stumbled into a catacomb that changed her life. Her arms were taken, transfigured, and something remarkable was revealed — something that will stir an ancient life from the ashes of history.

A serpentine sarcophagus holds clues to Cleo’s past and future. She enlists Eleanor Folley and Virgil Mallory to collect the artifact at auction, to unravel its mysteries and her own. When the sarcophagus falls into the hands of an enigmatic Egyptologist, they find themselves participants in his diabolical pursuits.

Drawn to Alexandria by their friend — and the temptations of a newly discovered ring (oh Eleanor!) — Folley and Mallory will be challenged as never before.

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You can pre-order THE HONEY MUMMY for your Kindle (at a discount!) and it will land there March 1st, ready for consumption! Amazon is being a trifle difficult with the trade paperback pre-order, but the trade paper book will absolutely be available March 1st (if the pre-order doesn’t miraculously appear before then — we have Egyptian gods on our side, or do we…).

If you are a book reviewer and would like an advance copy for review, please contact me. I’ll get you set up!

Writing this book was glorious fun. Airships and Egypt, wintry Paris and Anubis, friendships between ladies and gentlemen, tea parties, streaming meteorites, strange stone sarcophagi, mysterious rings, futures imperiled, and pasts never quite put to rest. Monsters made of air and shadows, bound into flesh and bone. I hope you love it! It’s going to be sweet.

You can also join the Folley and Mallory newsletter, for updates, and giveaways, and more, more, more!

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Writing, Mostly

Jia Tolentino #FindTheGirlsOnTheNegatives

Jia Tolentino #FindTheGirlsOnTheNegatives

I wish I knew what I was doing.

I’ve been publishing for sixteen years now (writing for even longer?!), and still don’t know. What the hell is this? Writing is the dumbest job. Are there performance reviews? Promotions? Bonuses? Vacation ti– aahahahaa.

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A long time ago, a friend said “I will not walk into the ocean today.”

I turned that into a story. (Eventually my friend did walk into the ocean — not all stories end happily.)

I will not walk into the ocean today.

The ocean, full of dark and sea monsters, always beckons. I wish I knew what I was doing.

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Sixteen years is a long time. It’ll probably go on a bit longer, right? Sixteen years — almost 100 short stories. Some novel-shaped stories. Nothing that’s done…anything, really.

A story of mine ended up on a ballot once. It’s one of the best stories I’ve ever written, about distance and longing and about having a thing and also not having a thing, and how that’s beautiful in its own right.

It’s kind of like writing, right? Having a thing, and not.

Existing in a space where you do the work, but few take notice. I can sell short stories like they’re hotcakes, but after that… Silence all the way down.

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How to keep writing when no one gives a shit?

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It’s award season, so there are Huge Lists about Awesome Writers & Their Fictions One Should Consider For Awards and Glitter Ponies, and I’ve been reading through the works upon them, because there’s a lot that goes right by me — there are So Many Stories, right? It’s hard to catch them all — stories like Pokemon, really! I published a lot last year, and found my name in one place. Just one.

I’ve written novel after novel, and have queried agent after agent, and have received no after no. This isn’t marketable! I am not in love with this Very Weird Idea! I don’t know how to sell this! But some people, your helpful brain reminds you, don’t have to write novels to get agents. They just have them because their short work is brilliant and Does Stuff. Mmm. Well.

Authors who’ve been writing a lot damn less have collections, Elise, because their work resonates and Says Stuff. You’ve never ever been in a Years’ Best, Best Of, Best Bested Bester, because your fiction just… Well. No one knows. Who even reads it. What does it even do — you aren’t exactly on Lists Of Merit. So.

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My dear friend Aidan wrote a brilliant thing.

I’ve got three stories I need to write.

And I wish I knew what I was doing.

Writing, mostly.

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Yellow

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by Emiando

I never much liked the color yellow. Maybe it’s because in my youth, I was sent a hideous yellow cable-knit sweater, that didn’t compliment my bosom or my skin tone. Yellow makes me look like I’m in possession of some terrible disease and should have died three years ago. Yellow and I never really got along.

And then, we kind of did. I wouldn’t wear it — that was off the table — but I could read about it and write about it. Within the universe of The King in Yellow? Which was weird and fantastic and creepy? Heck yes. “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman? I hated it when we read it in school — but I think I hated it because I understood it. None of my classmates really seemed or cared to.

When editor Joe Pulver assembled a group of women writers to create the Cassilda’s Song anthology, a collection of stories by and about women in The King in Yellow universe, the first thing that came to mind was a room that had once been papered in yellow. And what existed within that paper? And beyond that paper? Surely it was Cassilda and her world. Could the paper be a portal? Of course it could.

What terrible things happened within those yellow-papered rooms?

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that “She Will Be Raised a Queen” was also inspired by Arthur Machen’s “The White People” and “The Green Book” (both of which you can read at Project Gutenberg). Strange people in strange woods (aha, a theme in Shimmer’s January cover story as well — everything is eventually connected, time itself is a circle).

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In this anthology, I was also given the opportunity to collaborate with Damien Angelica Walters, which was a distinct pleasure. We got to play with a novelette length work that traverses the world in every stage of its life. Our Cassilda is searching for something, but what? Doorways, portals, the songwriter who understands them and encourages her to break on through. The writer of the original tale. The writer who has corrupted the truth of her.

If you love The King in Yellow, I hope you’ll pick up this book. It contains a lot of brilliant authors, in addition to me and Damien (who are also brilliant, make no mistake): Nicole Cushing, Lynda E. Rucker, Helen Marshall, Mercedes M. Yardley, Chesya Burke, Ursula Pflug, Allyson Bird, Lucy A. Snyder, Anya Martin, Selena Chambers, Ann K. Schwader, Maura McHugh, Nadia Bulkin, Molly Tanzer, S.P. Miskowski.

You don’t need a mask. Come, join us.

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2016: I Want To

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They’re really not resolutions — they’re just things I want to do.

Writing:

  1. Short stories: I want to write two new stories a month, at least. January always means the flash fiction challenge in my writing group, too, which will give me four new flash experiments by month’s end. I want to submit twice as much as I did last year, so doubling up the number of stories I produce should be a good start!
  2. Novels: The new book I started last year died after I read a novel that covered very similar ground. The perils of reading! But, there are still some solid bones in my book, and I want to explore them and see how they can be rearranged. I’ve also got a book that I’m revisiting. The draft is quite good, but not good enough; I don’t think I was in the right place to adequately handle everything I was putting on the page, and perhaps now I am. I want to revise this book and shoot it into the world (agent queries, most likely, because I can not get enough rejection).
  3. The Unknown: I’ve been publishing for fifteen years, and writing for longer than that. What haven’t I done? I don’t know, but I want to find out.

Art:

  1. Partner in crime and Shimmer, Beth, graciously gifted me with a six-month art course online, in which we plan to create something very pretty indeed. I want to loosen up and realize that art isn’t about perfection. Put something on a page, move it around, see what it does — this is how writing works! You can’t do anything with a blank page.
  2. I acquired some acrylic paints from a friend and have been enjoying them greatly. I want to continue to explore new supplies and new techniques. White gel pen? Sure!

Fitness:

  1. I want to head back to my gym and not hate every newbie in there. Hello, January. I see what you’re doing. I want to remember what it was like to be new there, and how kind the regulars were to me (and I guess I’m now a regular after four years…four years, holy crap).
  2. I want to be kind to myself when it comes to gym doings; this body has suffered some injuries and it’s hard to remember it’s not as young as it used to be ahem oh em gee. That I can run 5k in a body that still feels the effects of a broken femur is astounding. My time doesn’t have to be record.
  3. I want to give up sugar again. I did this for three months in 2015 and it was amazing and horrifying. It’s crazy hard, sugar is everywhere, but it’s also crazy possible. We sent a spaceship to Pluto and didn’t spoil Star Wars on Twitter, anything is possible.

Reading:

  1. My goal for reading last year was 70 books (though ended up reading 82). Every year, I add to this number, so let’s say: I want to read 80 books in 2015. That sounds like a lot, and yet! (Note to self: you read a lot less in years when you are writing a book, so know that going in!)
  2. I want to read more diversely. In 2015, I read 10 books by non-white authors, and I want to improve that number in 2016.
  3. I want to keep track of short stories I read but ahahaaaa. This feels daunting — maybe because there’s nowhere like Goodreads set up to easily maintain a list. I love spreadsheets, however, so!

Personally:

  1. I want to use my time more conscientiously.
  2. I want to stop giving to those who only take from me.
  3. I want to get to the downtown library so I can upgrade my library card and have access to an even bigger e-book collection.
  4. I want to do LetterMo in February.
  5. I want to attend the chocolate exhibit at the museum.
  6. I want to get my bike fixed once and for all.
  7. I want to keep showing up and doing the work, even if no one else notices. I notice.
  8. I want to get over this Martian Death Flu.
  9. I want to stop loading everything with “super.”

Super-happy new year!

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Some Sunsets, 2015

It’s amusing, how I planned to do this, and then discovered someone else does it as well. Enjoy the Colorado skies.

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bitterlight

cloudy

down-low

gold-black

leaf-set

on-fire

orange

setting

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sunset (3)

sunset

up-top

west

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2015: Dun dun dun

Wind, by Rhads

Wind, by Rhads

We spend a lot of time making resolutions — lists of things we mean to do — but do we ever look back and take note of what we’ve actually accomplished? We should. Here’s some of what I did in 2015:

Submissions: I made 63 submissions this year (and I’d like to double that next year ).  It’s a challenge when so many good pro-paying markets stay closed, argh!

Rejections: As of this writing, I’ve gotten 51 short story rejections this year (if I double my submissions, this number should also double?). If you think that working writers don’t get rejected, think again. It’s 100% part of the process. I queried four publishers about short story collections and only received one response. None of my agent queries received a reply.

Short story sales: 14 stories sold this year, which is fewer than last year, but 14 is a super great number. This includes my seventh story sale to Clarkesworld. “The Abduction of Europa” will appear in the January 2016 issue. Never thought I’d be able to say that, my seventh sale to Clarkesworld…

A novel by any other name: The Glass Falcon (novella) came out in April and was reissued in November with a new cover. The Kraken Sea (novel, but on the short end at 40k words) sold to Apex Book Company, and will appear in June of 2016. (And yes, The Honey Mummy is on track for early 2016!)

Written: I wrote 11 new short stories, a new Folley & Mallory novella (#4 in the series), and 1/3rd of a broken book. It’s broken because after reading another novel, I realized much of the ground I wanted to cover had already been covered, and I think that was like jabbing a pin into a balloon. Still, there is a good character core here and I plan to revisit one of my earlier ideas for them, and see how it works going forward.

Shimmer: Shimmer had its first fully digital year in 2015. We published six issues, woohoo! More than that, I took over the design/layout/assembly stage with issue #25 in May. That was a huge learning curve, and I found myself very thankful to have learned HTML and CSS a hundred years ago, because that allowed me to do this. I got to work with 17 new-to-Shimmer writers, and that’s always just the best part.

Fitness: I didn’t track the miles I walked/ran this year, which is super annoying. (A few years back, I was keeping track via the Walk to Mordor challenge.) But I lost twenty pounds along the way. Thumbs up. In 2016, I’m headed to the gym with a device that might actually be able to track those miles for me… I also swam a ton–I feel so strong in the pool!–and squatted two-hundred.

Reading: I read 81 books, though that may turn into 82 by the end of the year, because the book I’m reading now should be devoured in quick order. (My goal was to read 70 books.) When it comes to slush, I can only estimate that I read more than 1000 shorts over the course of the year, and I didn’t track my short reading otherwise — I probably really should have. My favorite book of the year? Probably Wylding Hall, Elizabeth Hand.

Video games: I became obsessed with Minecraft, Monument Valley, and Fallout 4. And let’s not kid ourselves, Neko Atsume.

What did you do this year?

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Rey

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This absolutely contains some spoilers for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. If you haven’t seen it, you probably want to abandon ship.


In things that will surprise no one, I really loved Rey.

Based on early trailers and still photos, I suspected I would, but yes, I super-adore her.

What may surprise you is this: I don’t give a fuck whose kid she is. It will be fascinating, I have no doubt, but beyond her genes, Rey is her own person. She doesn’t have to be Someone Special’s Daughter for her to be interesting. She doesn’t need a last name to be smart, quick, and capable.

I love that our first glimpse of her is when she’s wearing a mask. Masks have a long and storied history in Star Wars, concealing identity as well as physical condition. Vader wore one to hide himself away — and then in order to live. Kylo Ren wears a mask because he longs to follow in Vader’s footsteps. Boba Fett was masked. Of course stormtroopers are masked — no sense in your army having faces or humanity! And even Leia was masked, when she donned the disguise of Boushh. And now, so too Rey. Rey wears hers for exceedingly practical reasons, given she lives in a desert.

Even with her mask on — and her last name unknown — we are shown who she is. She is a scavenger who seems to go where others dare not, into the bowels of the great ships that long ago crashed on Jakku. She eats in the shadows of fallen AT-ATs (was she living inside an old frame? I don’t remember.) , and rescues droids from annoying traders.

Star Wars: The Force Awakens..Rey (Daisy Ridley)..Ph: David James..© 2015 Lucasfilm Ltd. & TM. All Right Reserved.

Having only seen the film once as of this writing (gasp!), I am unclear on whether she was left with someone when she came to Jakku as a kidlet. I am presuming yes, but when we meet her, she’s living on her own. She isn’t making an ideal living, turning metal and parts into the local dealers for hydratable bread (how cool was that), but even when presented with a wealth of food in exchange for the random droid that’s befriended her, she refuses. You don’t need to know her last name to learn something about her from these actions.

We see her envisioning her life to come, watching an older scavenger work through the same tasks Rey herself does. And just as she wonders is this all there will be, will I always be waiting, she is given cause to not wait. When the opportunity to Do Something arises, she goes, without question.

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She has spent her life scavenging, learning what is valuable, and how to make what is broken into what may be valuable. I want to know how she learned to fly, I want to know what it felt like to go into the fallen ships for the first time; I want to know if she built her speeder. I don’t immediately care whose kid she is.

She befriends a panicked Finn and a lost BB-8, offering Finn her hand when she was vexed by him taking her own. I wonder if she’s ever had friends — and I suspect not, based on her wonder when Finn et al, come looking for her. She was only ever left — no one came back — until now.

And that’s when we get to see some of that desert mask fall away.

We get to see Rey be Rey. And Rey? Is pretty damn wonderful.

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No Fairy Tales

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Fair warning: this contains spoilers for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. If you haven’t seen the film, you read at your own risk.


She was a princess, but this was never a fairy tale.

She was a princess, but she was always something more than that.

A rebel, a revolutionary, a senator who dared to step outside the box the world would paint her into. Many Bothans died to acquire the secret plans to the Death Star and she always knew that plan was bigger than any one person — even herself. She put herself in harm’s way to see that the Rebel Alliance had the information they needed to succeed.

Thirty-eight years later, she’s still doing it. Call it the Alliance, call it the Resistance, it doesn’t exactly matter. Leia Organa has given a lot for this cause. Her family on Alderaan, her lover, her brother. Her child.

It’s funny. Going into the film, I said to myself “just let them all survive,” because part of me — that wide-eyed girl who fell in love with Leia and came to love Han — needed that fairy tale. But we grow up and this is a universe of war, a universe where the Dark wants to swallow the Light entire and will not cease until it has. This is a universe that says sorry, no happily ever afters. We burn the dead, but it’s not enough to light the night.

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We probably knew, deep down, when we saw the trailer. It wasn’t a hug that was comfortable. It was heartfelt, but also heartachy, because something was amiss. Despite the hug, there was something missing — something lost. A life lived in peace, with family, and a new hope (sorry not sorry).

But we never seem to learn from the past. And Star Wars is a universe tangled up in the sins of fathers and their children. Vader was the father of Luke and Leia, and so Kylo Ren is the son of Leia and Han — a child they named Ben, a child they had all the hope in the world for. With Luke’s guidance, surely he wouldn’t become another Vader. But wasn’t part of Vader always inside Luke? Inside Leia? Was that piece handed down?

The Dark Side is tricky, ever seductive, and when you are pushed away from a thing, of course you grow curious. You wonder why people won’t show you exactly what it is. You want to look at the thing they won’t show you. You want to hold it and touch it and understand it. Eventually, you want to be it. You admire the thing they feared; the thing they tried to kill. And it doesn’t matter that the people trying to shut you out are your parents, does it?

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So I can’t decide if it’s good or if it’s crap. I feel too close to it — Leia’s story has been important to me for so long. Is it a solid story, when your heroine loses nearly everything? No fairy tales, okay, and I know the story is not yet over. But to find Leia here, after all these years — standing where she did so long ago, watching distant battles, commanding people, but unable to go and do and claim — to see her waiting. To watch her know when the light in her universe is extinguished. To know that she knows why, and by who — and she cannot go, does not go. She has other responsibilities. Suns are being swallowed and planets destroyed. What does her heart matter? She has seen this happen. She has watched Alderaan turn to dust under the fist of the Dark. She knows.

She has become a general for the cause, but she is also a mother who has lost her child to the Dark. Her brother remains, though distant. You can see when she hugs Rey, the exhaustion, but in her farewell you can hear that thread of hope even after all that she has lost. Because she knows it’s all bigger than her.

But! She still matters and her heart still matters. To this fan, to the young girl I was when I first saw that princess on a fleeing starship — she matters. Leia has accomplished a lot — and has given much. Her story isn’t happily ever after — and she probably knew it never would be. She was a princess, but it was never a world of fairy tales.

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December Books

8495173It was not a specific resolution to write about the books I was reading throughout the year — but I kept up with it the entire year, so hooray me!

In December, I’ve been a little attention-challenged when it comes to books — no fault of the books. Just me trying to do too much as the year winds down — making the January Shimmer, prepping for The Honey Mummy publication,putting a tree in the living room, tending to a mom with unexpected flu, baking all the things, wrapping the rest of the things — Oi! I picked up The Clockwork Dagger by Beth Cato, but was  promptly diverted by Hild, by Nicola Griffith, and then found myself opening The Winter Sea by Susanna Kearsley. Each book is still on my bedside table — and each is enchanting in its own way. When I want to escape the real world (and that’s pretty much always these days, given the news), these books take me straight away.

I’ve read some really good things this year. My goal was to read seventy books, since I read sixty-five last year. Always do more, right? Apparently I read eighty-one books this year, because why not?

I read more books by women than by men, which seems to be my normal pattern. I still have a lot of work when it comes to reading books by authors who are not white, so I’ll try to focus on that as 2016 arrives.

What did I love best? That’s so hard to say, because I read so many damn good books. Here’s what I got to this year!

  1. Eleanor, Jason Gurley
  2. Eleanor and Park, Rainbow Rowell
  3. Shimmer 23
  4. An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth, Chris Hadfield
  5. Good Omens, Gaiman and Pratchett
  6. If on a winter’s night a traveler, Italio Calvino
  7. Labrynthian, Sunny Moraine
  8. Girl on a Wire, Gwenda Bond
  9. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz
  10. The Lumberfox, Ava Lovelace
  11. The Museum of Extraordinary Things, Alice Hoffman
  12. Trading Rosemary, Octavia Cade
  13. Under the Skin, Michel Faber
  14. The Forever War, Joe Haldeman
  15. The Dream Lover, Elizabeth Berg
  16. Well Fed, cookbook
  17. Midsummer Moon, Laura Kinsale
  18. Uncertain Magic, Laura Kinsale
  19. Sing Me Your Scars, Damien A. Walters
  20. The Buddha in the Attic, Julie Otsuka
  21. Where Late the Sweet Birds Sang, Kate Wilhelm
  22. Sag Harbor, Colson Whitehead
  23. Parable of the Talents, Octavia Butler
  24. Shimmer 24
  25. The City & The City, China Mieville
  26. The Windup Girl, Paolo Bacigalupi
  27. Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel
  28. Collected Stories, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
  29. Mr. Fox, Helen Oyeyemi
  30. The Stress of Her Regard, Tim Powers
  31. Vermilion, Molly Tanzer
  32. Justice Calling, Annie Bellet
  33. The Devil in the White City, Erik Larson
  34. Shimmer 25
  35. Rat Queens Vol 1
  36. No Proper Lady, Isabel Cooper
  37. Inksucker, Aidan Doyle (in draft)
  38. Alien, Alan Dean Foster
  39. Sextrap Dungeon, Kurt Knox
  40. Ammonite, Nicola Griffith
  41. The Gate to Women’s Country, Sherri S. Tepper
  42. Giallo Fantastique, ed. Ross Lockhart
  43. The Ocean at the End of the Lane, Neil Gaiman
  44. The Magician’s Mistake, Katherine Sparrow
  45. The Girl Who Fell Beneath Fairyland & Led the Revels There, Cat Valente
  46. Heat Rises, Richard Castle
  47. Letters to Zell, Camille Greip
  48. Rat Queens, Vol 2
  49. Magonia, Maria Dahvana Headley
  50. Updraft, Fran Wilde
  51. Shimmer 26
  52. The House of Shattered Wings, Aliette De Bodard
  53. Nunslinger, Stark Holborn
  54. The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood
  55. Archivist Wasp, Nicole Korner-Stace
  56. The Shadow Revolution, Clay and Susan Griffin
  57. The Undying Legion, Clay and Susan Griffin
  58. Gutshot, Amelia Gray
  59. The Conquering Dark, Clay and Susan Griffin
  60. Wylding Hall, Elizabeth Hand
  61. Last Summer at Mars Hill, Elizabeth Hand
  62. Delia’s Shadow, Jaime Lee Moyer
  63. The River of No Return, Bee Ridgway
  64. The Time Tutor, Bee Ridgway
  65. Shimmer 27
  66. Lost Angeles, Lisa Mantchev
  67. Walk on Earth a Stranger, Rae Carson
  68. Vengeance Road, Erin Bowman
  69. Binti, Nnedi Okorafor
  70. Life and Death, Stephenie Meyer
  71. The Pleasure Merchant, Molly Tanzer
  72. Nancy Drew, The Clue of the Black Keys
  73. Fangirl, Rainbow Rowell
  74. The Bloody Chamber, Angela Carter
  75. Cocaine Blues, Kerry Greenwood
  76. The Pleasure Merchant, Molly Tanzer
  77. Shimmer 28
  78. Waking the Moon, Elizabeth Hand
  79. Carry On, Rainbow Rowell
  80. Hild, Nicola Griffith
  81. The Winter Sea, Susanna Kearsley

 

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Dear Mr. Abrams

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Princess Leia in Hoth gear

Dear Mr. Abrams,

I’ve followed your work for a long time now — Alias most especially, but I even remember Forever Young (and my mom loved Felicity) — but am not sure I know you well enough to call you J.J.

In any case, I was excited when I heard you’d be heading up the new Star Wars film, because I genuinely love the Star Trek reboot and all you’ve done there. And I could probably talk about Super 8 at length, but that’s just a detour toward the thing I actually want to tell you about.

Star Wars is one of the first films I can remember seeing, and it was certainly one of the first films to impact me and the way I viewed the world. Specifically, it was Princess Leia who opened my eyes to so many things, we’d probably be here a week as I listed them all.

The idea that a woman could be powerful. The idea that a princess in a pretty white dress could be a hero for the revolution. The idea that she could carry a gun just like the boys did — the notion that she was stronger than some of those very boys, willing to stalk after her beliefs, no matter what dark corridor (or trash compactor) they took her into.

Star Wars was the first franchise that stole my heart. It was the first franchise I cosplayed and the first franchise I bought toys from. My neighbor friend Patrick and I wished for huge winter snows, and when we got huge winter snows, we built a maze of tunnels to run our action figures through, because Hoth. We spent countless days buried in the snow, oblivious of the cold, because the AT-ATs were attacking our base and Princess Leia had negotiated a treaty with the wampa so we were about to win for always.

When I see you saying “Star Wars was always a boy’s thing,” I find it beyond ridiculous. You can’t erase half of a fandom. I was as invested as any boy — and I was and am very much a girl. A girl who grew into a woman, shaped by what Star Wars and a princess showed her was possible. Star Wars is a people-thing, see. It’s not, and never was, a boys-only playground. Don’t make that into a thing.

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