Stories on the edge of familiarity
The news broke today that Holly Lisle, author and teacher, passed on August 27th. I didn’t know her personally, but she is absolutely the reason this site, not to mention my life as it currently is, exists. Back when I was getting ready to start my first year of university, I had enough extra money to buy a MacBook. It was my first laptop and the first computer that was properly mine. The first thing I did with it was
It’s considered bad form to mention in blog posts how long it’s been since you last published a blog post, so please excuse my bad form as I bring attention to the fact that it’s been a long while since I last wrote a blog post. What I’m supposed to do instead is get right back into things like I haven’t left, but that would be dishonest of me. The truth is, I’ve been struggling for the past several years-
When I started writing, I didn’t think about how people would react to my characters for simply existing as themselves. This is partially because I was eleven and partially because I wrote characters no-one in my social circle would really object to (except maybe in the case of their gender). To be blunt, I wrote straight, cis, able-bodied white characters who were, by default, Christian. And if they weren’t Christian, it was either because they’d never heard of Christianity or
“Who here has spent time thinking about the question ‘who am I?’” my professor asked the class. Most of us, myself included, raised our hands at once. “Well, I suppose I’m going to get a biased sample because you’re all in this class.” The class was Personality Psychology, and this was in my first or second year of university. I remember my bewilderment as she went on to explain that there are people who don’t really think about those kinds
When I was about six or seven, my brothers were roughhousing and took off their shirts in order to more appropriately wrestle. Since I was playing with them, I also went to take off my shirt. One of my older brothers, who was in his teens, protested and said I should keep my shirt on. I didn’t understand this. Both our chests looked the same. What was so objectionable about the situation? Our mom came by the room and my
Grow Your Library
