The State of Things In the Shannonverse

I’m skipping Yeah, Write this week because reasons.

So how about an update in all things art in the Shannonverse:

  1. I am starting to collect up my The World stories. Once I have them somewhat in order I am going to maybe experiment with making them a KDP select thing if I have enough pages.
  2. For right now, I’m keeping the Etsy store open. A few more orders have come in and I have no other plans for the stories that are available right now so why not?
  3. In my semi retirement from freelance work state, I still have a Contently page. You can check it out here. I feel like some traffic through there might be helpful to me? I dunno.
  4. I have a few big swing essays out. I’m sending another tonight.Only one of them pays but whatever.
  5. I’m kind of trying again, not to stress about freelance work so hard for SO many reasons.
  6. A very dear friend has suggested that I try my hand at (when my laptop is done being rebuilt) actually giving some writer talks for my Patreon account. Things about my flash writing methods, maybe some reader/writer questions? Maybe.
  7. I’m working on some other things, passion/putting my blood into it things that I’m not ready to talk about yet.
  8. I also made progress on teaching myself how to write about art.

So I’m doing a lot behind the scenes here. I’m a duck, floating and paddling madly under the water.

Outwardly I’m feeling kind of lacking, however looking at my files I know I’m doing shit. I’m just very impatient with myself and I want to put some stuff in the world.

That said I’m going to try really hard not to be an asshole to myself about it because that never works out for anyone.

If you want to read some new stuff or see some archived stuff head over to Medium and have a looksy around.

I’ve gotten some questions from folks about Medium and I’ll to a post about it later this week.

Things. Failure. Brokeness.

Let’s talk lit world stuff I’m into right now.

The first thing is that Yeah Write is doing something great. The Super Challenge:

The yeah write super challenge is a prompted challenge, where writers compete to complete the best work of short creative nonfiction in a single weekend. Prompts are released on Friday, and the completed work must be turned in by Sunday night.

The competition is run in three rounds. Half the writers will move to the second round of competition, and approximately ten writers will advance to the final round of competition. All competing writers will receive feedback on their work at the end of each round from the judges. The final ten writers will compete for cash prizes for first, second and third place.

Go check it out here. I think if you want to learn about flash essays, this is a great way to do it. No, they didn’t pay me. I just really like them.

What else?

So I’ll be unpublishing my chapbook The Motherfuckess Manifesta here soon. If you’d like a copy head here. It is 3.50 and all proceeds go towards keeping yours truly housed and fed.

Also one other thing before I get hella emo. Over at Patreon I posted a free Daiyuverse story you can get here. It is my first try at a romantic YA flavored thing.

Okay, I’m gonna put in a read more because I’m having feelings about being a failure. Being poor and unable to do all the things necessary to make my art/writing life more sustainable.

Continue reading “Things. Failure. Brokeness.”

Yeah Write# 272 entry- The Goddess Cycle #1

The Goddess Cycle #1

Innana

by

Shannon Barber

When the sweet brown girls call, she comes. She weaves herself from their dreams and candles and incense smoke. The sweet brown girls know her when she moves into their circle. They call her Mother and Lover and General.

Her body made them feel good. Her pot belly and jiggling thighs and sagging breasts takes their breath and fear.

“H-hello sweet children.”

Their tongue feels strange on her lips, but she can manage a greeting. She understands their words, their language comes to her in song and prayers.

She dances with them, all naked and in love and free as wild weeds.

The girls know her names and respect the old dead tongue she knows intimately. She stops their dancing and settles each one to hear her prayers.

The first is lovely and shy, her cock lays half hard on her thigh and she lowers her eyes.

“What is your prayer?”

The girl murmurs,

“I want to be a Mother.”

She is blessed with the cupped palm of the Mother against her groin.

“Get your wife with child.”

The rest of the girl children ask for similar things. One wants to change her body to be fertile, another wants to grow her garden, another to be a nurse. Each gets her blessing until she gets to the last.

The last child does not sing nor does she grin. She stares at her Mother, her Lover and General, calls her with the scent of blood and need.

“Yes, Child?”

The girl has her fists clenched into tight little chubby brown balls and her body vibrates with rage.

“Mother, my Lover, my General. I want to fight. I want to go to war.”

“If you want to go to war child, can you name me?”

They stand up together and the child puts her fists on her wide hips.

“You are the Queen of Heaven.”

The Goddess nods.

“Louder.”

“You are the Daughter of  Sin and Ningal.”

“More.”

The girl’s heart thumps and she pounds her chest with one fist.

“You are she who descended into the underworld and returned. You are my Mother. You are my Lover. You are my General and we want blood.”

The Goddess howled and the divine light of war blazed from her eyes.

“My sweet child. Come, I will teach you the ways of war and the sacrifice of your enemies shall be my glory. Eli baltuti Ima’ ‘idu mituti.”

The naked girl  repeats the ancient words with pride.

” The Dead Will Be More Numerous Than The Living.”

The others cheer and rise, dancing again. Their ululations and sweat and love will carry their goddess and their sister into battle.

The other Gods look and see and smile.

Even old Delight of Frigg smiles at this new crop of prayers and songs.

“God Speed dear Innana. Goddess speed.”

###

Bucket List Progress.

Did I ever post my artist bucket list?

I think not, so here is it in part:

  • Make short poetry film
  • Submit to paying poetry market
  • Do some lit related youtubes
  • Keep Patreon going- up my content and maybe funding
  • Submit to contests
  • Arrange my own little writing retreat
  • Apply for some type of grant
  • Create/perform performance art
  • Write a short horror film
  • Build somewhat of a freelance thing
  • Create and sell writing classes
  • Break into a mainstream something

Those are just some of them.

So far this year I’ve kept my Patreon going. If you haven’t checked that out, here go look at this post. I posted my first YA-Queer romance flavored thing. A little side short story in the Daiyuverse. 

I’m trying to hype myself up to blend Patreon and the Youtubes and do some video. I’m still pretty self conscious about my webcam quality and fake teeth lisp.

I’ve started researching video editing so I can find software I can use.

What else?

I’ve made uh, inroads into trying my hand at mainstream pubs. On the advice of freelancers I trust I set myself a Contently portfolio.  Given my clips I am not sure I fit in but whatever. I figured I’d give it a shot. Why not?

What else?

Just today I made my first submission to a paid poetry thing.

Other arty farty shit.

I’ve decided not to print my own Motherfuckess Manifesta.  I’ve tried a few more times and frankly shit just makes me so anxious and upset because I can’t get it figured out. I am not a Zine Queen. That said, maybe should I save up enough dollars I can do a limited print run?

On the writing class front I have my curriculum for three classes. I want to write some more content and exercises for each and take some photos for them. I’m going to do a dry run on some folks and then release them probably by October.

What else?

I’m trying really hard to hang on to the idea that my goals and personal ethics in terms of what I will and won’t do with my work is okay. That no I don’t have to change so much I don’t like myself.

That said, I’m pretty knee deep in I don’t matter/I ain’t shit feelings and poor kid anxieties. I’m working really hard on not sinking into that, but shit is a fuckin struggle.

OH! Also, I did more work on my laptop *Gertie* and discovered that I didn’t make a bad decision. She’s a good little machine. The problem is mainly that EVEN microsoft does not recommend an OS above 7 for machines like her because they come stock with not that much memory. Not enough memory for 64 bit Win 8.1 which is what came stock on Gertie and has fucked her ALL the way up.

I dipped into my savings again so I could buy some new memory and will install that this weekend.

To help me increase my, uh, side hustling. I got back into the Amazon affiliate program and am building a little store. Basically right now it’s all beauty stuff, but I’ll be adding books, gadgets and other stuff. Consider it my ultimate dream store and if you click/buy I get some pennies. Check it out here. Hopefully with that side hustle and a few others I can buy this for myself in a few months.

So that’s it for now. I’ve got writing and submitting and research to do.

This has been an installment of Be That Shit University.

Where the Artist Dreams Themselves into Reality

I’ve been kind of keeping to myself a bit. As they say I’m in the fuckin weeds again.

The last few weeks (again, a-fucking-gain) have been really emotionally traumatic for me. I was able to make sure a friend was not at Pulse that night, though, the odds that she was were really high.

Other shit has happened.

My heart is aching.

I’ve been squatting in the intersections where I live and work and everything and have had a few Oh. Shit. Come To Jesus conversations with myself.

While I’ve been (still) trying to do some more freelancing, I’ve come to realize more than ever that because I’m who I am, a lot of those opportunities are not for me.

I have been feeling this kind of deep burning guilt. The kind that kills my ability to write the good shit. A bunch of little things piled up to become a big lava rock in my gut.

The thing with freelancing is that I just don’t like how a lot of publications do things. I understand that nobody gives a shit because that’s how they make money, but, I just can’t.

I don’t really want to write bullshit for pennies.

And I’m not good at fast turnaround bullshit.

I feel like I already spend a lot of time not doing the arty shit that moves me. And though I’m full of passions I’m still timid because money is a real fucking thing.

I know if I could churn out more freelancey content and get paid a lot of things would be easier financially but emotionally that makes me feel numb.

The other problem is frankly, I have zero fucking chill. I know I’ve probably  hurt the feefees of some editors because I have a big fucking mouth and I’m not with a lot of bullshit. On one hand, I’m sure that at least one of the White writers who told me that my big mouth and not putting up with racist shit attitude would be to my own detriment were entirely right.

On the flipside, maybe my loud mouth might get through to a person or two someday.

I guess it’ll be okay. I’m still struggling not to feel like I’m doing everything in some bullshit manner because I don’t want to further compromise my heart.

I’ll stay plugging away at Patreon. I’ll have my etsy shop. Sometimes writing will pay for a bill or two and I think that’s gonna be okay for me.

What else is happening?

I’m about to (after I install new memory in my laptop) start learning video editing and maybe I will in fact produce a tiny poetry film this year.

I’ve been working on essays. Narrative essays and some kind of poem like essays about shit I want to talk about.

And some other stuff.

I’m still pretty awash in poor kid guilt but god damn it, I get to make art too. You know?

 

A Confession from your Problematic Fave

Y’all.

I have a terrible confession to make.

Most of my Yeah, Write entries have been not just funsies flash, but, I’ve been experimenting on your readers.

This has been a little bit of a long long con.

I’ve long held the theory that a lot of what makes us not read particular genres isn’t necessarily subject matter or levels of say gore or terror but, in how it is presented. I’ve known people who refuse REFUSE to read anything that looks even pulpy or horrory or romancey because EW I don’t read those genres.

My experiment has involved presenting the reader, you- a thing that is either snugly or loosely genre fiction.

I have given you noir, fabulism, horror, quiet horror, slipstream, Non Western style literary fiction etc.

This week for yeah, Write I presented Lovecrafty fiction. Specifically, it was the quietest of Nyalathotep stories. Folks liked it. A friend of mine asked if it was from my archive of ideas for short scripts.

I was trying to satisfy both the literary reader, the quiet horror and on another level the Lovecraft nerd.

Here is what I did.

One of the hallmarks of Lovecraft (racism and fuckery aside) is the language he used and the names of things. Working from both memory and some resources like this website, I took some of his favorite words and used them in modern contexts:

The Gibbering Loon.

Somewhere deep inside his antediluvian self,

ululations

The next Lovecrafty clue was in how I referred to the mysterious Vivian.

When he lifts his face to look into her eyes, he sees, he sees the secrets of the Sleeping, Dreaming Gods and the black notice of the Outer Gods.

References Lovecraft fans know well.

I also decided to make her unmistakably Black. I have had an ambition to use Blackness in these Lovecrafty stories in a way that heals that particular wound for my inner baby nerd.

And Vivian herself tells us who she is:

“See inside me, I am the Crawling Chaos. I am reborn. Be mine, Detective St. Pierre.”

We Lovecraft dorks know what the Crawling Chaos is without having to invoke the name Nyarlathotep.

What interests me more, is that folks who I know aren’t necessarily Lovecraft dorks, got the terror.

Folks from Yeah, Write and some others I’ve spoken to have not totally understood, but y’all understand without the need for the genre restrictions that might make your eye as a reader skip it because, horror.

I have always believed that how we’re presented with things matters deeply, perhaps more deeply than a lot of folks like to think of themselves, as to how we take in and appreciate a thing.

As a reader, this is just human nature. I don’t think it is good or bad, it just is. And we can recognize it and make the decision to do something else. Read POC, do the year of no cis hetero White male authors.

As a creator, I’ve found that because this is where I live. In these inbetween places. In a place where I just write the shit. Trying to squirm around the constraints of genre work, has played a huge role in my development as a writer.

On one hand it does make it harder to get published sometimes.

On the other, I get to engage in Quiet Horror and sneak into your brain or your bed and live there for a bit.

Ultimately, as an artist the latter is far more satisfying to me personally.

It feels better for longer when someone says, I was thinking about this thing you made for three days.

I also get the satisfaction of representing what I’d like to read.

I get to fully plumb the depths of my own brain without worry or feeling like because I am writing X genre, I must do X thing.

I’m considering my experiment to be successful.

I am writing what the fuck I want to write.

Sometimes I have readers who feel it.

Sometimes I have readers who are like, I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but I’me with it.

I’m into it.

So now that you know what I’ve been doing, I hope you come back to see where else I go.

Thanks y’all.

Thank you for helping me get to this place, I’m eternally changed and grateful.

I was going to do a shout out list, but it got too long. Y’all know who you are.

 

 

 

When Baby Has to Hustle.

Currently this is the List. A To Do/shit baby needs to get done in regards to writing list:

  1. Get laptop more usable. The factory status has problems. I have to go in a fine tune my OS. I have to try at some point to figure out how to pull money out of my ass for more RAM, so I can just yanno, use it to write and google a little.
  2. Figure out budget for saving for a new phone at the end of summer.
  3. Finish an essay and send it off.
  4. Try to figure out how to pump up Patreon a little bit.
  5. Reconfigure my outlook at home so I can use it on the go. Can’t be done until #1 is sorted.
  6. Finish getting reprints up at Medium.
  7. Start collecting The World.
  8. Finish transcribing notes about stuff I still want to write about.
  9. Organize cloud storage.
  10. Count poems
  11. Organize poems
  12. Talk to people about said poems.
  13. Work out a possible methodology of getting writing classes going.
  14. Sleep sometime.
  15. SCLAB.

So..yeah.

Later boothangs baby got shit to do.