SFFSat: Cross-dressing in Athering!

After bumping into her in the hallway, Chief Medical Officer Jules asks Healer Ghia what her plans are for Midwinter Eve.

“I’m working at the Cauldron.”

He sucked in his breath sharply, making a sympathetic face. “I do not envy you.”

She gave a bark of laughter. “Please, Jules–we all know you secretly wish you were a short nineteen-year-old woman,” she said, merriment in her eyes as she teased him.

Jules made a moue of astonishment as he held his hand up by his chest. “My secret is out! However will I live now, so malcontented being my old, tall, male self?”

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a once-over. “I’d lend you some of my clothing, but I doubt it would fit.”

From Chapter 2 of Bellica.

 

(For more great SFFSat entries, go here.)

Notes from the revision pile

And by “revision pile” I mean picture me under a PILE OF REVISIONS.

Anyway. Here’s a picture encompassing what’s happening in Katje-land today.

Yes, this means I’m working on a chapter with some boy-love in it. Because sometimes bros are just bros who have sex with each other. I love slash so much I just write it right into my novels and erase the middle-man of fanfic.

(Not true — there are still plenty of opportunities for fanfic writers to put together characters in slashy situations.)

By the way, don’t let “Fiction Friday” fool you — I don’t yet have a schedule for this blog. It just happens to be a revision day and a Friday, so I figured I’d share something with you.

Science Fiction Fantasy Saturday, August 13th, 2011: damn know-it-all healers

From Bellica, part one:

“How did you…”

“I’m a healer,” Ghia said, cleaning the bloody cut on the bellica’s hand. “I know everything.” Yarrow snarled, and Ghia would have laughed if it wouldn’t have spoiled the effect. “You know you should be more careful with your hands, as Caelum says. This isn’t the first time you’ve come in here with injuries to them.”

So close to the climax

Feminist author rants about avoiding sexism with the written word.

Godsdammit but trying to write feminist sex-scenes with a female character who’s a virgin and a male character who is decidedly not and is also much older than she is fucking hard.

Er. Difficult.

I’m actually past the climax at this point, but couldn’t resist the joke in the title. He’s on the run for his life, they’ve just been engaged to be married.

See the thing is is that my book — or at the very least the scenes with these characters — will probably be categorized as not-feminist because people will see it as falling into the patriarchy trap or somesuch nonsense. When the truth is that there is no such thing as the patriarchy trap in this world I’m writing about because it’s run by a matriarchy. If anything, this sex scene that I’m writing is actually really really different from standard sexual liaisons that occur in this world.

But, you know, we’re reading it in this world here where this sex scene may be seen as too traditional — girl is virgin until engagement, and nervous about first time. Guy is much older and much more experienced. Etc, you know the story and you are qutie sick of it. But I don’t really have any control over what my characters do.

The thing is I do consider my works to be feminist because they are not done within a male-dominated viewpoint. That is, even when I write my male characters, primary concern is not “what will men think of this”.  Primary concern is “how will this affect me” or “how will this affect the goddesses I serve” or “how will this affect my relationship with other characters, regardless their genders”. Which is how it is in this feminist’s life (yes, I am a feminist — I really hope this doesn’t surprise you, because it shouldn’t). If something I do does have some sort of affect on the men around me, that’s a side-effect that was not calculated into the original action.

Like earthquakes. Earthquakes happen because the earth needs to release tension. And they royally fuck up our lives in the process, sometimes killing us. But the earth doesn’t just get up and say to herself  “I’m going to kill some humans today! Yeehaw!” and then proceed to shake the shit out of us. The earth says “Damn, there’s a crick in my spine, maybe if I just stretch this way… *rumble* …aaaah! There we are!” and then it just happens to have an affect on us.

So replace humans with men and earth with women in that scenario and you see what I mean. (Not with killing, obviously. It’s not a perfect metaphor.)

~

In other news, my YTD word count for GYWO is 15,488. That’s 15,240 in Bellica and 248 in two short vignettes which can be found at live-in demons and absent angels (note that the second one is schedule to post on Tuesday morning, so you won’t see it till then), which is one of my tumblr sites. I’m posting these vignettes there because they’re quite a bit different from the work I post at Muerta’s Tears. And no, they’re not blog posts, because they’re not something I write in my blog when I’m bored. They’re something I write and then post online because I want people to read them.

Bellica has become my own private Athena. I get headaches when I don’t write now. I’m getting the beginnings of one as I type this and I’ve only stopped working on the book for about 5 minutes. I can’t stop writing on it. Last weekend I wrote 40 hand-written pages on it. The past two days I’ve written another 12 or 13. And this month I’ve typed 8,105 words — larger word count than I got last month, and I’ve had a way later start this month.

Reaching the climax just released the floodgates. I’m glad I had the past week off school, otherwise I would have totally fucked over my academic career in pursuit of plot.

Ok. Back to the grindstone. I’ll be checking in sometime in March, when I work on doing 50 hours of editing Bellica (I’ll be finishing it this first week of March) and writing 10,000 words on The Man of Bronze.