Christian A. Young's Dimlight Archive

Fan ink and stigma

tattooI've been thinking this week about fan tattoos, and stigma, and the way stories matter.

When I met Kate Bornstein, my brain interrupted my moment of being starstruck with the very important information that ze has a TARDIS tattoo. This of course led to excited geekery, me showing of the giant Seal of Rassilon I have on my right calf, and hir pulling the sonic screwdriver out of hir bag. It was a short, magnificent, amazing, wonderful moment of connection, not least because I got that tattoo to celebrate starting on testosterone as part of my transition.

I have others. I have the spider from Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys on my right bicep as a reminder of the salvific power of creativity. I've got the Corsair's ouroboros (albeit turned 180) on my left wrist to remind myself that my complicated body and gender is beautiful, and that I don't have to feel guilty and afraid about it with other people.

I have other tattoos, too. A rose on my back that I got with one of the first friends I made when I moved to Columbia. A wren with a needle through its ankle from the Mabinogion to celebrate my name change. Gautama Buddha, from when it looked very much like I was going to become a lay minister with a small Buddhist church (and possibly the only story I regret putting on my skin because without context it looks...well, not great from a social justice perspective). A drawing I did based on the Burney Relief that was the "ring" from my messed-up, failed marriage in my twenties. The pseudo-nautilus a friend got me for my eighteenth birthday.

I even have a scar on my shoulder from the tattoo a friend's friend did for me when I was a teenager using a sewing needle and India ink, which was summarily removed by the dermatologist my mother dragged me to. I like this scar. There's nothing else like it on my body. It's the memory of a story.

People can be weird about fan tattoos, though. I'm not sure how much of that is the stigma associated with being really into a thing -- or, rather, certain things because it's apparently okay to be really into sports but still kind of weird to be really into a sci-fi show -- or the idea that those stories aren't important enough to get etched into our bodies, but John Lennon quotes and pin-up girls are. Or maybe it's the idea that these things are ephemeral or imaginary? Or that somebody else's story is the wrong language, and we should all be required to make up our own stuff using an acceptable symbol set? It it too close to brand names?

And yeah, I think there's an element of misogyny happening here -- women in fandom get a disproportionate amount of flack for profoundly irritating reasons, and body policing is a thing -- but that can't be the whole story.

This is really bothering me. I'd love to hear what others think about this, not least because I'm getting the ink itch again, and there are things I'm considering that fall into this range, and that's more emotional than I expected it to be.

Wow me, Internets. I love you all.

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Things I have learned this week

learnA few weeks ago I started to fall off of the "well-maintained depression and brain chemistry" train and basically landed in the "missed a couple of days of Celexa just in time for insomnia and stress" ditch.

Which, you know, I was aware of as it was happening, but it's the same kind of awareness you have when you're doing home repair and the thing you're doing above your head comes loose and everything moves SUPER SLOW but there is nothing you can do but watch while it happens. And let's face it, I'm a popcorn kind of guy with the human condition (See Also: my ridiculous and awful Greyhound stories), including my own condition as someone living as human.

In any case, I learned some things this week that I'm finding amusing enough to share.

1) There is a liminal block of time in my day in which I am Very Eloquent with my hands and utterly useless with my mouth.
It runs roughly from 4-7 AM, after which I obtain the power of human speech. I've now got multiple proofs of this, including from this morning's adventure to Starbucks (because they open at 5 AM and I have some funds on my card and I wanted to write away from the house) in which I knew what I wanted and had to try something like four times to get the words "grande Earl Grey" out of my mouth. To his credit, the barista was very kind and did not laugh at me too much.

2) I have really strong feelings about blogging platforms.
During a workshop, I actually questioned a presenter who contrasted a WordPress-style blog (which looked like a slick and traditional website) and a Tumblr-style blog (which had stylistically consistent photography but was more magazine-style) who tried to use the Tumbl-blog as an example of website fail. I don't know if it's a generational thing, or if I'm just more inured to social media than I thought, but people, neither of these things is "better" than the other except that you'll have different audiences, and different intentions, and just because this one individual gave up on her project does not prove your thesis when I can point to more successful examples than I have fingers.

3) Getting Better is a Ridiculous Process
As things improve incrementally, I keep noticing that when I stumble, I react differently. Like, this week instead of just going silent and having panic attacks, I was joking about how I had "exhausted my vulnerability pool and moved on to my hostility pool." I mean, things were still raw, but they were raw in ways that allowed me to simply behave in possibly socially inappropriate ways rather than removing myself from society completely.

4) Falling Down the Fanfic Rabbit Hole is Both Satisfying and Frustrating
Satisfying because I really do love it as an art form and reaction to media, and the culture has many things to recommend it within the in-group once you abandon the stigma (which, let's be honest, is all about misogyny). Frustrating because being more or less not involved in this side of things for a while means that the signal to noise ratio in my reading attempts aren't yet well-tuned.

5) Sometimes People Pick Up When I Drop the Ball, and Those People are Awesome
So yeah. That thing with the train and the ditch? Means I am not always doing simple things in appropriate ways. Like, little stuff that supports bigger stuff? Comes apart. Gets ignored. Big stuff gets put off. Good choices get replaced by bad ones. And then someone is like, "Hey, so I have seven cakes in my car for the thing" and I am like, "HOLY FUCK, THANK YOU UNIVERSE FOR THIS INDIVIDUAL, AND THANK YOU INDIVIDUAL FOR SAVING ME AND OTHERS FROM ME." This is not a thing I ever want to expect, or to feel entitled to, but so grateful. Wow.

So yeah. That's...yeah. That happened.

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What I Read in March

BooksMy resolution for 2014 is to intentionally read only books written by women. There are three exceptions:

- Books already in progress prior to January 1, 2014 may be finished regardless of the author's gender
- Books in a series I am already reading may be read regardless of the author's gender
- Books needed for a class or specific project may be read regardless of the author's gender

Also, last month I introduced guidelines for how to handle anthologies, and books with multiple authors or editors:

- Anthologies edited by a woman are acceptable even if the collected authors are not all female, but books with 50% or better representation are preferred
- In the case of multiple authors and editors, a single woman will suffice, but books with 50% or better representation are preferred

So! Here's what I read in March.

Empress, Karen Miller
I actually started reading this one a few years ago, put it down because college got overwhelming, and only just picked it back up this year. It's the first in Miller's Godspeaker trilogy, and focuses on its main character's journey from slavery to power in a brutal desert country called Mijak. Not a gentle book at all -- lots of blood and violence, and Mijak probably couldn't be more of a patriarchy if it tried -- but Miller is writing fairly rich epic fantasy, and I found myself binge reading this. It's a pretty chunky book, so prepare to take some time on it.

The Ninth Floor, Liz Schulte
When I mentioned my resolution to Doug at Village Books, he handed this one to me. Schulte is a local author, and the whole premise of a nasty community secret and possible supernatural goings-on was really appealing to me. That being said, Schulte is mainly a mystery writer, and mystery isn't one of my preferred genres. It was a quick read, and I liked the set-up a lot, but I think I went in expecting a different sort of book than what I got.

Being a Pagan, Ellen Evert Hopman and Lawrence Bond
My "Not a Book Club" title for March over at The Land, Sea, and Sky. This one definitely goes onto my list of books people new to Pagan religions should read within their first year or so of practice, even if the info in it is increasingly outdated (the interviews took place in the mid-1990s). Good context and oral history.

The Riven Kingdom, Karen Miller
The second of Miller's Godspeaker books, this one mostly focuses on the matter of succession in Ethrea, which is sort of the Western European Island Trading Nation answer to Mijak, which is significantly less militarized, lower magic, and marginally kinder to women. Like Empress, The Riven Kingdom is focused on a woman's rise to power, except in this case she is the sole heir to the dead king, fighting against having being made chattel by the church. This one is just as chunky as Empress, which is hilarious because I actually acquired the second and third books as part of an omnibus edition of the trilogy, which is bigger than some family bibles and dictionaries I've met. (Side note: anticipate a longer discussion of this trilogy when I've finished it.)

That puts my counts for 2014:

- 16 books finished
- 13 read in their entirety
- I have no idea how I want to do ratios now that I've introduced multiple authors/editors, but I can count the number of men on one hand without needing extra fingers, so I'm guessing that's a win.

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Aaron Sorkin: 1, Casual Lexicon: nil

tobyI've been aware of The West Wing for a long time. I've even seen a fair bit of it here and there, but I've never seen all of it, nor watched episodes in order, and so when I noticed the whole series had finally gone streaming on Netflix, that was it.

Decision made. Mainliney bingewatching behavior engage.

Well, mostly I'm hitting it a couple of episodes at a time, mostly in the evenings or on weekend mornings when I've got a couple of hours to have downtime and knit, and it's so good for me in these weird, unpredictable ways.

Case in point: the word "okay" is now in my secret fannish lexicon. It started with Danny Concannon (whose lines in S1 are about 97% basically just this word, I think) and has branched out to every "okay" in the universe.

Which is to say, Sorkin has managed to make the most bland and invisible of words a Glowing Goddamn Beacon to my brain. "Okay" is like "said." It should essentially be invisible under normal operating conditions. Instead, it is now a Thing in my skull. Like, every time I hear the word, I wonder what the subtext is. Every time I say the word, I get a little zing of nerd happiness, like I'm secretly communicating a thing.

I am probably not communicating a thing.

I am pretty sure I don't care that I'm not actually communicating a thing.

It's tiny. It's ridiculous. Like, this has to be one of those writer things that doesn't make sense to the rest of the planet, because I never hear people having this problem. And, predictably, I am enjoying it immensely because language is fun and weird and the way human beings relate to language and character and media is so unpredictable, and that this tiny thing keeps lighting up my brain is so beautiful.

Things like this are why I fell in love with language.

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This morning I noticed…

...a piece of black duct tape on the light switch for our back porch. Given that I live with four other people, I figured one of us must have had a good reason to do this, and that I'd eventually find out what that good reason was.

A little later, three of the roommates were heading out for breakfast while I was making my second cup of tea. They asked me about the tape. I told them I didn't know, but that we should probably switch the tape out for something that wouldn't leave sticky residue on the switch plate.

They left, and this short showed up on one of my social media feeds:

Well-played, Roommate J. If you are still alive, that is. Me, I'll just be covering myself in glow sticks and covering the walls with LED tap-lights.

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This is My Raygun.

raygunThis is my raygun. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This has been an interesting week. DST is still the enemy, though I think I've finally cleared the hump. Trying to ease in last week by getting up at 3:30 instead of 4 for a few days did basically nothing on the getting to sleep on time front. If anything, it may have just prolonged the agony. By Sunday night, the body was not even remotely interested in going to bed. At all.

It wanted to go onto its own native schedule, which looks a lot like what I do anyway except it wants to do it in GMT. Late nights and even later mornings, you know? Especially since the weekend is the only time during the week that I nap freestyle (i.e. "Oh, it's mid-morning and I've got free time...") and so by Sunday I was well-rested and didn't even twig that I should be considering losing consciousness until about two hours after I should have.

Basically pain.

Combine that with a weird burst of impostor syndrome and the way my current writing-related projects are not playing well with one another at the moment, and I hit a serious low around Tuesday this week. Doubt, frustration, anger, depression -- really every negative feeling I could be having came to a head in the most miserable way.

For my birthday, my friend Chloie (who is a hell of a writer, and has amazing taste to boot) gave me a Mystery Box. The Mystery Box lives on my desk, and is full of odd trinkets and packets of tea, most of which are wrapped like wee gifts. I am allowed to use the Mystery Box as I see fit, obviously, but in general I use it as a reward system when I feel like I should get a treat, or as a kindness dispenser when I need something wee and shiny to improve my life.

Not that I really believed it would help on Tuesday. Which was ridiculous given that I'd not only sold something in the night from my Etsy shop, and I was doing paid work and blah, blah, blah. Feelings aren't rational. But any port in a storm, right? Plus, the fun thing about friends and gifts is that they seem to derive enjoyment when they give you things, and I derive enjoyment from my friends' happiness. So. Mystery Box it was.

I was not expecting something as perfect and ridiculous as the ray gun. It is so tiny as to be unweildy in my adult-sized human paws. It makes little noises. It lights up.

In a culture that can't decide whether it wants to buy all the guns and take them absolutely everywhere or punish anyone who so much as considers simulating a weapon, it feels subversive in my pocket. It pushes all the buttons in my head where my not-entirely-factual idealizations of classic sci-fi tropes live, and gives me the same tingle I used to feel when I was very small and playing Star Trek out in the yard with my cassette recorder tricorder, or running around with the glow-in-the-dark She Ra sword the neighbor kid eventually broke because he was a jerk who broke everything, or the toy lightsaber I had that went "vwoom" because it was open at the end.

Oh, and I can use it to shoot doubt in the face with extreme prejudice.

It could not be more perfect. The more I think of it, the more sure I am that even the timing was perfect. I'd be enchanted by it, sure, but getting it in precisely this way at exactly this time?

That's what makes it a talisman. That's what makes it magic.

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Friday Linkdump was using that hour, damn it.

chainMost mornings, my alarm goes off at 4. I get up, I work -- writing, editing, etc. -- I shower and dress, and then I get into my car to go do different work for the rest of the day. About two or three times a week I do something else (e.g. meeting up with friends, going to org meetings, projects, etc.) before I come home, veg out for a little bit, and then shuffle off to the soft, dark place for a few hours.

A couple of days ago, I realized that DST starts this weekend. I moved my alarm back to 3:30.

The idea is that two little shifts would be less bad than a whole hour. If I'd been really smart I'd have started a couple of weeks ago, and bumped back to 3:45, 3:30, 3:15, etc., but so far this is working okay. I am unlikely to want to die on Monday when that hour I am using disappears out from under me. I may not even notice.

I'll tell you what, though: the idea of 3:30 is almost a little much. Like, I say I'm not a morning person, and that what I'm really doing is getting up in the middle of the night, but I'm still having to balance that with a diurnal life, and 3 AM is perilously close to what is probably a red line in terms of making that work. So.

At least I get that hour back at the end of haunt season.

And now, links:

30 Cats And Dogs Losing The Battle Against Human Furniture
I dispute that all of these animals are losing a battle, and not all of the human objects are furniture, but this is still magical.

10 Things That Every Brand New Creator of Science Fiction Should Know
I was surprised how good this list is. I'd also challenge that it's only for "brand new creator(s) of science fiction," since a lot of it is applicable to fantasy as well. And literary fiction. And so on.

Snake vs crocodile: A dramatic showdown
This is not a SyFy original movie. This is a thing that happened at a lake in Queensland where people swim. Australia: kind of amazing.

Ghosts of the Tsunami
Describing this essay as an account of the relationship between the living and the dead after the tsunami that cased the Fukushima disaster hardly does it justice. Longish, so set aside some time.

YouTube channel: Mahafsoun
Belly dance plus metal. Commentary should be entirely unnecessary, right? Beautiful stuff.

150 Journalism Cliches
I remember one of my teachers in high school had a list of bad writing habits to avoid, written in such a way as to demonstrate each habit in the instruction. "Avoid cliches like the plague" was one of those gems. Personally, I think we should use this list to make cable news bingo cards.

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What I Read in February

BooksAs I mentioned in January, some folks expressed an interest in my New Year's resolution to (mostly) only read books by women. To review, here are my rules for what I can read in 2014:

All books should be written by women, with the following exceptions:
- Books already in progress prior to January 1, 2014 may be finished regardless of the author's gender
- Books in a series I am already reading may be read regardless of the author's gender
- Books needed for a class or specific project may be read regardless of the author's gender

I realized this month I needed rules to accommodate anthologies and books with multiple authors and/or editors:
- Anthologies edited by a woman are acceptable even if the collected authors are not all female, but books with 50% or better representation are preferred
- In the case of multiple authors and editors, a single woman will suffice, but books with 50% or better representation are preferred

So! With that out of the way, here's what I read in February:

Midnight Blue-Light Special, Seanan McGuire
This is the second of the InCryptid books, and pretty much entirely pleasure reading. I don't click with this series as deeply as I do with McGuire's Toby Daye series -- I don't really identify much with Verity Price -- but McGuire does a good job of making the interpersonal relationships interesting to me. Plus, you know, urban cryptids and secret societies. So.

Our Vampires, Ourselves, Nina Auerbach
I actually bought this in around 1999 when I was working for a textbook warehouse. I saw it on the shelf and was so delighted by the title that I knew I needed to read it. It's probably my favorite scholarly analysis of vampires in English-language literature and film, and deals with everything from pre-Stoker (e.g. Polidori and Byron) up through the Reagan years, ending more or less with Near Dark. This was a re-read -- it's relevant to some things I'm working on at the moment -- and very satisfying.

Spooky South, S.E. Schlosser
This is a collection of short folk stories from the Southern US as retold by the author/compiler. Schlosser's a folklorist, and I probably had higher hopes for this one than it was able to deliver, in part because I'd kind of hoped for a bit more context -- think liner notes, if you remember what those were -- when really the Spooky series is kind of like Scary Stories to Tell In The Dark for grown-ups. Lighter than I like, which is less a fault of the book itself than a mismatch of my tastes with the text. Still not a bad value as impulse buys go.

Weaving Memory, Laura Patsouris
My "Not a Book Club" book for February over at The Land, Sea & Sky, and probably not of interest if you're not into the idea of ancestor reverence as a part of one's spiritual path. You can find my full write-up here.

That puts my counts for 2014:

- 12 books finished
- 9 read in their entirety
- 2:10 ratio of men to women

My plan for March is kind of opaque at the moment, but if my latest trip to Village Books is any indication, fiction will be at least half of my reading load.

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Friday Linkdump is awash in documentaries, and possibly ram’s blood.

chainSo it's True/False time in Columbia, and everything is beautiful.

I've got about twelve films on my list this year, the first of which (Jodowrosky's Dune) I caught last night after work. It was, I think, an auspicious start: beautifully made, full of heart, and exactly the thing my heart needed this week. I had to laugh at the timing, too, given that I finished the last Dune book all of a few weeks ago, so the idea was fresh in my mind.

If you want to see a story about what may be the happiest and most influential creative failure ever, go see this. It's apparently going to have relatively wide distribution in coming months.

Tonight is a longer haul, with films at 6, 8, and 10. I follow that up on Saturday and Sunday with four films each day. The range of topics is going to be intense, from particle physics to human trafficking to Nick Cave, so I'm anticipating going into Monday a little bit exhausted and a lot incoherent.

Oh, and very satisfied and happy. Yes.

And now, links:

- 100 LGBTQ Black Women You Should Know: The Epic Black History Month Megapost
A fantastic post about women who deserve more visibility in history and modern media than they get. Definitely great for starting a list of media to check out if your horizons need some expanding.

- Stanford scientist unveils 50-state plan to transform U.S. to renewable energy
This is not my area of expertise, but it seems to be a fairly comprehensive challenge to status quo. If I were Warren Buffett rich, I'd seriously consider working with this guy on making at least some of this happen.

- Muslim, queer, feminist: it’s as complicated as it sounds.
I've spent some time over the last couple of years intentionally making time to learn more about Islam, and I think this woman is a fantastic example of how people within that faith challenge the expectations most of us have based on media coverage of Muslims. High five, awesome Internet stranger!

- Inside Amtrak's (Absolutely Awesome) Plan to Give Free Rides to Writers
I love this idea like burning, even if I'm not sure it's for me. I'm kind of Internet-dependent when I work, partially because I benefit from additional stimulation when I'm writing, but this also looks like the kind of novel experience that would teach me a lot of interesting things. I like the cut of Amtrak's jib right now. Yes I do.

- Op-ed: Coming Out As An Evangelical Pastor
As someone who lives his life in a lot of fear some days because of the political force of the US Evangelical movement, I hurt when I read this. I hurt for the people who are struggling in these environments, and I hurt because the people who most need to take these words to heart are more likely to ignore them than any other group of people.

- The Blood Harvest
This article about the biomedical industry's harvesting and use of horseshoe crab blood is both mindblowing in its own right and full of sentences I had no reasonable expectation of encountering. Like, this is information I literally could not have known I wanted. Wow.

- Your Spirit Animal Is Here To Take You On Your Vision Quest
This is making the rounds again, and it's both funny and near to my heart in terms of respecting the spiritualities of others.

And now, pants.

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Friday Linkdump is late to the party on account of community microbes

chainLast night I started feeling pretty rough. I chalked it up to the tail end of travel fatigue, popped two Aleve, and went to bed. This morning, I was like, "Man, I'm glad I took that Aleve, because I still feel kind of meh, and this would be so much worse if I hadn't!" and tried going to work. By 11 AM I was back home in my pajamas, trying to stave off chills and aches by curling up with the nearest dog.

And then I fell asleep for most of the day. As one does.

I'm pretty sure this is the non-influenza viral thing my roommates have been passing around since last week, but there's a chance it might be Billie Piper's flu. Or what my friend V had on the last day of Gally. Or something I picked up somewhere else.

I mean, I don't want to have flu -- I'm immunized and everything! -- but come on. It could be Billie Piper's flu!

(Please don't let it be flu.)

And now, links:

Stone Towns of the Swahili Coast
This? Awesome. We never learned about African history in any depth in public school, and I never had an opportunity in college.

How Single Photographs Are Saving The Lives Of Shelter Animals Across The Country
It seems obvious that better photos of shelter animals -- photos that make them seem dynamic, fun, and individual -- would make people more interested in adopting them, but the difference in before v. after is so striking. I'm glad this is a thing that people are doing.

On The Gay Thing
One of Dragon Age's lead developers talks about the challenges inherent in working toward better representation in games without it becoming a Thing. I hadn't realized that anyone on that team was part of the LGBTQ population, but that game (and its sequels) grabbed onto my heart in ways like the anonymous fan commenter's, so it's nice to see a post about it from the development side.

"Tainted Love" played by floppy disk drives, now with Marc Almond vocals
Because sometimes the Internet is magical.

Grenada Underwater Sculpture Park
Does exactly what it says on the tin. Unsurprisingly, a lot of the art is both beautiful and alien, thanks to being submerged in a live environment.

Arizona lawmakers pass controversial anti-gay bill
Gee, I can't wait to see what the gays-only drinking fountains, lunch counters, and toilets look like! (Hint: People tried using Christianity to defend racism too. Stop it. Religion isn't a license to treat people badly.)

Floating in Space
Fun with depreciating space suits! Also, kind of scary if seeing something that looks like a human floating around untethered makes you tense.

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