I was hanging around the guilds on HabitRPG when another user gave a heads up to queer writers: Have you heard about Strange Horizon’s “Our Queer Planet” issue?
The sci-fi e-zine is hosting a celebration of queer identity, specifically looking for “work that explores intersectional queer imaginaries and experiences around the world,” with an emphasis on stories set on Earth (timeline variable). So I looked through my past fiction, and some of my best sci-fi stories feature gay male leads or gender-non-binary aliens–but none of them take place on Earth.
So, I decided, I’ll just have to write something new.
But then, I asked myself, what’s queer literature?
It’s Valentine’s Day, and since my husband-to-be and I are still some 1600 miles apart and both generally loathe the holiday anyways, I figured I’d play around with some of my other loves–such as my love of books, both writing them and reading them.
Because, honestly, who wants a box of chocolate when you can be given a book?
I want to write more. Short stories especially. But a long story takes a long time to write–so do short stories, but brevity makes the challenge more approachable–and the alliteration? Why, that’s wonderful.
A couple week’s ago, the Daily Post challenged bloggers to attempt flash fiction, and when I came across it this week, I decided I should get back into it–I’d attempted the art form years ago, but gave it up in favor of verbose, flowery prose.
It’s hard for me to be laconic.
So at least for the summer (until I’ve got my series up-and-running), I’m challenging myself to post a short short story every Friday–just so I can call it Flash Fiction Fridays! Well, that’s not the only reason, of course, but it’s certainly exciting!
It won’t be easy, and I’m looking forward to all the comments and critiques I can get to help refine my skills and improve every week. Luckily for me, I already had a piece on hand that I wrote this semester for my poetry class: the challenge? Write a shocking story in prose.
I can’t recall a semester when I’ve been this exhausted at the end of the second week. Not when I had my first math class that was, for all intents and purposes, over my head. Not when I had fifteen credit hours plus work and family and student involvement. Not when I had physics and calculus and differential equations.
I came down with a stomach flu this past weekend and I think I’m not back to my full self again, but this is ridiculous. I yawn all day. I can barely focus on being awake. I could roll over asleep at any moment.
Not quite. But it is–or until ten minutes ago at the time of writing this–the first Monday of National Novel Writing Month, November for those unawares. Since the year 2006 I’ve been a dedicated participant and often find it’s one of the few things I do truly for myself, and mine self only.
The story of my Wrimo-ing is purely coincidental. I was on a writer’s forum for Neopian Times writers (who write for the Neopian Times, a subset of the Neopets virtual pet site, which contrary to popular belief, is not just for children), and it came up in conversation about writing novels this thing called NaNoWriMo. I was intrigued.