Self Promotion- Dusk: Origins

If you don’t like Self-Promotion you may want to look away now. I know, it’s terribly shocking and disgusting that I’d use a blog I write for to promote something else I write for. How dare I assume that people who enjoy my writing in one venue may enjoy it in another?
Ahem.
Dusk: Origins is a super-special, previously super-secret project I have been having a lot of fun and good times with, and I want you to go check it out. But- I am aware you can’t do that without knowing what in the hell is going on, so I will help you.
Continue reading “Self Promotion- Dusk: Origins”

Self Promotion- Dusk: Origins

If you don’t like Self-Promotion you may want to look away now. I know, it’s terribly shocking and disgusting that I’d use a blog I write for to promote something else I write for. How dare I assume that people who enjoy my writing in one venue may enjoy it in another?
Ahem.
Dusk: Origins is a super-special, previously super-secret project I have been having a lot of fun and good times with, and I want you to go check it out. But- I am aware you can’t do that without knowing what in the hell is going on, so I will help you.
Continue reading “Self Promotion- Dusk: Origins”

Post-Apocalyptic Graphic Novels (Comics): Y The Last Man

*This whole post contains spoilers for most of Volume 1 of Y: The Last Man*

In Y: The Last Man Yorick is the last man alive on Earth after a random, sudden thing kills all the men in all the world, and shit if I don’t wish he’d just kill himself so those poor women could just wither in peace.
Never before have I been so against a protagonist’s survival. He’s so dumb in a gross know-it-all way that I want him to get shot by the heavily stereotyped Republicans’ wives. I want his poor monkey, Ampersand, to run away and maybe be the father of a new human-monkey hybrid species of the future. I want anything but for stupid Yorick to continue being a walking, preachy, tropey, asshole.
Frist there’s: “Wahh, I’m in love and that’s important.”
Then he’s all: “You women need to band together and act like civilized last people alive and do our forefathers proud.”
(Lady President promptly shut him up saying: “These women have suffered more than you can imagine. They don’t deserve to be lectured by a self-righteous child.[1. That, unlike the others, is actually a direct quote from issue #3]”)
Then he’s like: “I get that people are actively trying to kill me but I don’t want to hide from them. They’re just angry women. Is that a bear? Let’s poke it with this stick to check.”
Continue reading “Post-Apocalyptic Graphic Novels (Comics): Y The Last Man”

The pre-apocalypse apocalyptic library

So, I’m a geek. (This isn’t news.) But because I’m geeky and would be a professional student if I could get paid for it, it’s no surprise that I like to read up on things. Partly so I have more useless trivia to spout during really awkward dinners with my in-laws, but partly so I’m prepared for all sorts of random things.
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Apocalyptic Fiction: The Fold by Irina Goodwin

How curious, persistent and human, this desire to survive.
It started with my little brother collapsing into his cereal one morning. We were terrified because there’d been a serious bug going around school; of course our immediate thought was that he was seriously ill. We fussed and he got up, went to the kitchen sink and threw up violently but the moment my mother laid a hand on his shoulder he grabbed it and twisted, her fingers and wrist cracking horribly out of position and he bit down on her arm…
That’s how it started for us, though of course it was happening everywhere. I don’t really want to go into the details of what happened to my family suffice to say that they’re no longer with me. I ran and hid and I’ve been running and hiding ever since, avoiding anyone who looked even slightly unwell, and collecting weapons as I went. Continue reading “Apocalyptic Fiction: The Fold by Irina Goodwin”

Apocalyptic fiction: Kids Today By Anninyn

I don’t know what the world’s coming to. I must have called the police a dozen times about all that screaming in the estate last night, but they were a no-show of course. Heard ‘em wailing about in the city centre though. Probably those ravers causing trouble again. I paid my taxes all my life, and they can’t be bothered to come help a scared old lady. Horrid little thugs shouting in the streets, smashing windows and all though the night that horrible screeching. Like nothing on earth I’ve ever heard. And no-one thinks of us decent sorts, stuck dealing with the filthy scum around here. Like rats, they just breed and make noise and mess everything up. We should bring back National Service, my Sam always said it’d sort them out.
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Apocalyptic Fiction: Side Effects by tavia.

The scientists swore this wouldn’t happen. Well, not exactly swore. I mean, nothing’s in writing except the waivers we signed. And, naturally, there was a pacifying spiel about odds and percentages and likely outcomes and those protocols everyone seemed to forget real fast.
Continue reading “Apocalyptic Fiction: Side Effects by tavia.”