Ace Of Pentacles

So how do they make that?

Amazon Unveils a [Horrifying] Fanfic Publishing Platform

Today, Amazon announced the imminent launch of its newest endeavor, Kindle Worlds, a publishing platform for fanfiction. When I read the announcement, I was horrified, then angry, then sad. I want to take a moment to explain why this is such a tragedy.

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Faking a major event would require thousands of people. Try managing a project. getting twelve people to do what they are supposed to, on time, without blabbing early, is nearly impossible.

I don’t remember where this story was from but it was about how the writers older brother died when he was young and years later had a son who, had never met the brother had the same mannerisms as him. Ok I think I remember the key words were “my son drinks from the water fountain like my brother” or something

i really like just knowing things. learning new things is great of course but it truly does hit differently when you see a painting and know which era it's from and why it was painted in that way particular and how the artist was influenced by their time. it's nice just knowing how an author grew up and how that might have influenced their work. it is a good feeling

I think about love sometimes. About how it’s taught and seen and felt.

I think about the ‘date nights’ and flowers and cards my parents spoke of and the rigid smiles when it went wrong. I think about the vacations and gifts and parties and how much they fought. Over the kind of flower. Over the venue. Over how hot the hotel was. Over how the party was stressful. It was hard for me to see how much they loved each other over their sighs and sharp words.

I was taught to love in grand gestures, but between each showing was a cutting bitterness that I was told was love. I watched the movies and my parents and tried to learn how to love my partner with disgust between my teeth fixed into a picture perfect smile.

We tried to love like our parents taught us and it almost broke us. Accusations hissed through clenched teeth and voices raised over clenched fists as we tried, tried so hard, to love like our parents taught us. Wilting flowers tossed in the compost and dinner dates spent in silence as we ignored each other over steak.

Love like that nearly broke us, and we had to pick up the cracked bits and figure out how to love like ourselves.

Now, I think of my partner, who was taught by his parents to kill what he did not like. I think of how he instead carefully uses a cup and paper to move a spider to a different area because he knows I love spiders, and he loves me more than he hates spiders.

I think of making homemade hot pockets for my partner, because he doesn’t like to eat in the lunch room at work and I want him to have something good he can eat by himself. He smiles so softly when he sees them cooling on the counter, and he knows I love him more than I hate to cook.

I think of him buying me radish seeds because he knows I like seeds more than flowers.

I think of me moving the wasps away from his workout area because I know they scare him.

When I think of love, I think of my partner tucking an extra twenty into my wallet when he thinks I’m not looking. I think of me mending his socks because both of us hate shopping and if I fix them, he won’t have to buy more.

We buy pizza on our anniversary if we remember it. We wait till after Valentines day to buy discount chocolate. We don’t hold hands in public, instead we bump shoulders when we pass each other in public. Brief and secret and ours.

We can’t love like our parents taught us, but I think… perhaps we love like ourselves, and that’s enough.

The human population has always been static. The instant one person dies, another is born. You wake up one morning to an emergency broadcast reporting billions of unexpected pregnancies. You have 9 months to figure out why.

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