Happy Holidays, Whovians!
I turned 3 today! Wow, three years of tumblr. Who would’ve thought?
“My standard for verisimilitude is simple and I came to it when I started to write prose narrative: fuck the average reader. I was always told to write for the average reader in my newspaper life. The average reader, as they meant it, was some suburban white subscriber with two-point-whatever kids and three-point-whatever cars and a dog and a cat and lawn furniture. He knows nothing and he needs everything explained to him right away, so that exposition becomes this incredible, story-killing burden. Fuck him. Fuck him to hell.”
David Simon, creator of The Wire
“It was not for murder that the gods cursed him," Old Nan said, "nor for serving the Andal king his son in a pie. A man has a right to vengeance. But he slew a guest beneath his roof, and that the gods cannot forgive.”
A Storm of Swords, Bran IV
10 Things A Black Woman Writer Must Do:
1) Do not be a black woman writer.
2) If you come from an island in the Caribbean, that’s a mistake. The islands are not a proper place. People from places like the islands can’t write about being alienated, because how can you feel alienated in a place where people like to wear bikinis? Be a writer from England. Do not mention you are black.
3) You mustn’t write long sentences.
4) You mustn’t write about yourself.
5) Do not be abstract.
6) Do not write about race. Everyone will say you only write about race.
7) Write about race. If you don’t, they will point out that you haven’t written about race.
8) Do not be a black woman writer.
9) Do not be a black woman.
10) Do not be black.”
you win or you die
I’ve been running all my lives. Through time and space. Every second of every minute of every day for over 900 years. I fought for peace in every universe at war. Now the time has come to face the choices I’ve made in the name of the Doctor. Our future depends on one single moment of one impossible day. The day I’ve been running from all my life. The Day of the Doctor. (x)
woa, the trailer is out? I missed it. But: waaaaaaaahh!
“Yes—yes—a boy.” said Lupin again, who seemed dazed by his own happiness.He strode around the table and hugged Harry; the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place might never have happened.“You’ll be godfather?” he said as he released Harry. “M-me?” stammered Harry. “You, yes, of course—Dora quite agrees, no one better—”. “I—yeah—blimey—”. Harry felt overwhelmed, astonished, delighted.”