Looking for my work? I've got several stories (fan fic and original works) on AO3.
I've also got one novel on Amazon available as a physical book and ebook. A Tale of Two Tricksters is an urban fantasy about Jenn, a djinn who doesn't know she has magic, and a smooth-talking man named Luke who knows more than he says. (Look for a sequel to this book out as soon as I can manage it.)
This is the sequel to A Tale of Two Tricksters. If you like gods and Creatures in a modern setting, a main character who is just trying to figure out how to be a human, and a wizard who is too smart to be this dumb, you might like it. Check it out!
WARNING do NOT start reading books and comics or watching movies or looking at art!!! you will start wanting to create art yourself. or god forbid. writing.
Dizzy with pain and shaking with exhaustion she made the call she once swore that she would never make again. It was a mistake. If he came—and he would—because she called, because she needed him. He would come. If she lived she knew she would regret this later, but currently she was delirious and dying, and his was the only voice she wanted to hear, the only warmth she wanted to feel was his arms wrapped protectively around her.
(Mouse requested a bedtime story about “nothing.”)
Once upon a time there was nothing, and it lived in the corner of Mouse’s room. There was space between the bed and the cupboard that was big enough for nothing else.
There wasn’t much room for nothing in Mouse’s house. Everything everywhere had something in it, and sometimes more. Everywhere that looked like it might have nothing really had something, like dust or a cornflake or a LEGO head or a shadow, and if it looked like there was nothing for even a moment, someone would come and put something there.
It was very hard to be nothing in Mouse’s house. Every corner had something in it, and if it didn’t, there was a spider living there. Everything was always some colour or another, and usually some noise. Everyone was always putting a book down on you. Or spilling Ribena on you and pretending they hadn’t. Or complaining that there was no room for anything, and shifting about all the other things, but never making room for nothing - only moving it uncomfortably about the house. “Nothing’s ever where I put it in this house,” they’d say, but complaining.
And even when they weren’t doing all that, they were always talking about nothing. Someone would always be tripping over it, and then would yell that they had tripped on nothing - there was no privacy for nothing around here - or they were saying that nothing was wrong. Even when it was quiet someone would say, “did you hear that?” And, “what was that?” And, “it must’ve been nothing.” They would poke it; and then say out loud that they had poked nothing, but never got into trouble for it!
As a result of this, nothing began to feel cross, and put-upon, and uncomfortable. It was also a bit lonely, and wondered if it wanted to be something. So it thought very hard, and was SOMETHING.
This was certainly more interesting, and everyone came and looked at it, and said Look At That Thing, and That Really is Something. They poked it, and said they had poked something, and that something was there. They said, “I can smell something,” but with more interest this time. Then they spilled Ribena on it, and something came out of the corner and ran about the house, and everyone wanted to know all about it, and why the Ribena was in Mouse’s room in the first place.
Something was interested in the attention, because it was true - it really was something. It was chased all around the house now. Everyone said, “it’s up to something.” But instead of sitting quietly, something wanted something to do.
So something followed Mouse, but at a distance, because Mouse was always tripping on something. And Mouse and Mama went out in the pushchair, and something followed them.
Mouse said, “I see something!” And Mama said, “what do you see?”
And Mouse said, “I see GEORGE.”
With that, George had to be George, and was a boy thing. He was puzzled by this, and sat in Mouse’s lap, and was pushed around in the pushchair. “What is a George?” George asked.
Mouse explained that a George was a bit like a monkey, with a tail, red, with a face, a lot of red fur, and small, and smelly. Smelly of sharks.
“I’m smelly of sharks?” George said, quite unexpectedly upset by this. “What do sharks smell like?”
(George had only just stopped being nothing, and didn’t know.)
Mouse explained how sharks (which astute grownups will remember are small BLÅHAJ stuffed toys that mice incidentally shoplifted from IKEA, across which we shall draw the veil of amnesty) smell of bedtime, and possibly Ribena.
“I don’t like that,” said George, and tried being George anyway. George went to the shop, and ran about on the floor for a bit, and everyone said, “what is THAT?” And it was George.
George said, “I want to go home,” so they went home, and went to bed with the shark.
But then George knew the end was coming, and so he said to Mouse, “this is too much. I want to go home.”
and George didn’t fit in his corner any more - because it was big enough for nothing.
So George went POP and turned back into nothing.
Mouse said, “yes,” and nodded. And Mouse talked to George anyway.
And then Mama came and said, “who are you talking to, Mouse?”
While I'm waiting for Pasha the Storm to come off the waiting list at the library, could you recommend some queer books to read?
oh boy, so many good ones. let's stick with queer adult fantasy -- written by queer people with queer characters. (there is an... interesting endemic in fantasy fiction where a lot of ostensibly straight men -- or at least men who have not defined themselves in relationship to queerness -- have written sapphic characters but have not done the same with gay men. Foundryside by RJB, The Devils, Joe Abercrombie, etc. great books! not queer imo.)
A Taste of Gold and Iron because I am biased and I think @ariaste is neat and cool and a great writer and I very much love this book. fealty, court intrigue, family.
Brighter than Scale, Swifter than Flame, short, melodic, sharp.
The Unspoken Name, expansive, exciting, brutal. I love the second book (The Thousand Eyes) as well, and as a duology, very satisfying.
The Unbroken: anti-colonial reclamation of heritage and also... fucking your enemy. : )) for liberation : ))))
Manhunt, gender-cide from a trans pov, vicious, wide-eyed.
A Taste of Honey: heartbreaking, triumphant. I am so hoping Wilson announces a new novel soon
also if you want a double dip, my debut, Motheater is also queer fantasy :))
I'd like to share with y'all a project I've poured my heart and soul into over the last couple of years: a database cataloguing every single older queer science fiction book I've managed to track down, consisting of just over 200 titles with LGBT characters/themes & by LGBT authors, spanning over a century (1880-2000) 🚀
The database can be filtered by representation, subgenre, whether the book is currently in print, and more; additionally, it includes my own ratings & brief thoughts on the ones i have read, if anyone needs a suggestion on places to start! (or feel free to shoot me an ask for a more personalized recommendation)
