When Female Characters Do Stupid Shit

I wrote an article on substack but it's about writing so here it is.

Musings on Characterization by Annemarie Musawale

Spoiler Alert: This is also kind of a rant

Read on Substack

Getting My Writing Mojo BACK!

 It's no secret that I've been struggling. The dearth of blog posts was probably a clue. I had barely been able to update my fanfics.

I won't even talk about the novels I'm writing. (Yes, it's never just one). Marcus Devereux, stagnating, the Harlequin, non-starter. 

Sigh.

Whatever I did, I couldn't get myself to...write. Everything was too depressing I think - COVID, economic crisis, personal crises, parenting crises...and then the icing on the cake; Gaza.

Just hopeless, hapless and helpless.

No wonder the creativity wasn't being defined.

It wasn't just my personal situation. It just seemed like the entire world had given up on even trying. Literally shouting and screaming about Gaza for six months and hearing people perform outrage while selling Israel more weapons. Everyone I know living from hand to mouth, and every day the Kenyan president announces a new arbitrary tax. Let's not even talk about the personal struggles of having an adult unemployed son, trying to find his way amid mental health struggles. Always a fun time.

All of these things are still the same, aside from the last one. No longer unemployed, and with a direction of movement, this is the only thing that has really changed in my life. But I found myself making three fanfic updates this weekend. I finally managed to write daily so my Harlequin story (fingers crossed) is now over 5k words. I still haven't updated Marcus Devereux but I have a plan on how to proceed.

I think that tiny sliver of hope is responsible. That things can change, albeit slowly. hey, for years, nobody would even acknowledge that the Occupation was in the wrong but now here we are - the whole world knows that Genocide is going on.

I can almost believe that that saying about the trajectory of justice is true.

Resolve was the start. Writing it down that I intended to do these things and really understanding that life is too short and all we have is now. And then every day, despite whatever mood I'm in, purposing to WRITE 100 words of my Harlequin story, rain or shine. Somehow, that triggered the storytelling part of my brain and now there's always story there, raring to go. Just waiting to be written down.

Long may it continue.

It's Been A Creativity Crushing Time

 Hi.

I know it's not just me who is finding this time challenging to the creative juices. It's not just the pandemic I think but everything that goes with it. The change in lifestyle (not mine but now my son is always home and it's just a different dynamic), the fearmongering, the fear of illness and death, not just yours but everybody's. 

Ugh.

It's a lot.

I just got my second jab today and so I'm feeling a modicum of relief especially since it comes at the tail end of the Delta variant surge; at least the tail end in Kenya - don't know about you, other guys.

Still, I am shocked at the number of people around me who are at the very least reluctant to take the vaccine. My boda boda guy who took me to the hospital to get my shot today told me he hasn't received the shot because he's afraid of needles.

I told him I was afraid of needles too but it doesn't hurt. 

It doesn't.

Frankly, if I wasn't there, I wouldn't have believed it myself. The complete painlessness is messing with my cognitive dissonance because on Saturday I was working in a clinic pharmacy and there were about five babies throwing fits about being injected with needles. Now I don't know if babies are just naturally hysterical or the vaccine nurse is just really excellent at jabbing people.

The bloody thing took less than a minute start to finish. I was wishing I'd have lured my boda boda driver with my boobs to come with me and give it a try. I mean since y'all seem to like my boobs so much might as well put them to good use, saving the world.

Unfortunately, I thought of that only after he left.

However, if anyone wants to see my boobs, I will show them to you in exchange for you getting vaxxed. Fair trade?

I was trying to tell him how as a motorcycle rider, he meets all sorts and he never knows who's sick and he rebutted that with "God protects us."

Sometimes I wish y'all had never heard of God because y'all use him to cover a MULTITUDE of sins including being irresponsible with yourselves. But when you're hospitalized and the bill is climbing by 1.4million a day, all of a sudden, it's not God providing, it's you, with your hand out, asking me to help you with your bill. 

Why can't we all just use common sense?

Did you used to believe the saying that 'Common Sense is Not So Common'? I - to my shame - did not. But now, I realize that it's so true and it's part of what is messing with my chi. Like...???

I spend so much time being this gif:

that it's cutting into my work time.

Mara the white people are proving how dirty they are by announcing proudly that they don't shower.

People are openly outraged at people taking offense at oppression.

PEOPLE ARE REFUSING TO BE VACCINATED

Let's not even talk about Nicki Minaj's cousin's friend's balls.

It's just... a lot.

On top of that, I've been swamped with work, having reached peak inability to say no to new clients. Thankfully, I've moved a lot of stuff off my plate and now I can manage what I have without going broke and also being able to do other things during the day like walk, update fanfic, exercise, cook, watch Netflix...just normal things that had all gotten thrown by the wayside.

Maybe it'll help me to stop snarking at strangers on twitter...okay maybe not stop, but do it less often. Sometimes the dumb gets too much.

So, anyway, I just wanted to get on here, get my feet wet and tell you that I'm trying to make a comeback. Here's a video of seven reasons why you should read my books.

A Voyage of Discovery

 So I've been spending all my time working and trolling on Twitter which might not be the best use of my time I will admit. Well, the work has been very beneficial but I'm not sure about the trolling.

It's just that I've been reading things on there.

About being neurodivergent.

And I'll be damned if it doesn't sound like me.

It kind of freed me, to know that my character flaws - the brutal honesty especially - might just be a condition of my neurology and therefore completely out of my hands. I've been seeing a lot of Kenyans on the journey of discovery, finding out about their neurodivergence as adults, chronic medical conditions, mental health issues, sexual awakenings...and every story triggers a reaction in me.

Do I have that?

Am I that?

I'm 46 years old and I'm still discovering new things about myself. It's nice. You can't be finding new things and feeling old.

There's a curious freedom to knowing who you are or in the process of self-discovery because you let go of expectation and deal with reality. It's fun too. Happy making.

There are just so many people out there who are not happy right now and they take out their misery by trying to make other people unhappy - hence the uptick in my trolling. People stay coming for my faves and I have the skills to make them have a seat - so why not use them?

Besides it hones my wit and my clapbacks which I can then turn around and use in my stories. 

win win.

I lied before it seems.

It is good use of my time to troll.

Just this last month, we had someone trying to harsh Jared Padalecki's usually very mellow vibe, which led to a whole three days of #weloveyoujaredpadalecki trending on twitter and a campaign of giving to TWLOHA. 

That's what I call doing trolling right. 

Of course the troll still insisted that Jared was hating on her because his fans made him trend for three day because of her comments. *rolls eyes right off my head* 

Why are these people like this?

Jared is really helping me with the motivation to get fit. That, and moving to a house not on a hill and so easy to walk to and from. Also swimming pool. 

Not to jinx it but this is a good time in my life.

I'm even finding time to work on my book and my fanfiction. 

I don't know if anyone is still even interested in Marcus Devereux but that's not the point. 

I am interested.

I wanna see how it ends. 

If anyone else cares to come on the journey with me that's great. You're welcome and it's definitely worth it.

I've seen a lot of white authors on the internet today, complaining about Meghan Markle and her new children's book that is being released. Apparently her writing a book automatically negates the efforts of thousands of hypothetical authors and ensures they'll never be published. I'm guessing all these authors are white middle aged women with 80s hair, and unseasoned books about raisins in potato salad.

I snorted when I read that. 

Nobody can take your shit away from you. If it's yours, then it's yours. Nobody can come along and take that away from you. It's 100% jealously and anger that the Sussexes are not failing at their new life once they ran away from home. 

You know how it feels when you wanted desperately for people to fail and come crawling back to you and then they insist on prospering and not needing you at all? 

I hear it's painful. 

I think my neurodivergent ass is not capable of feeling such time wasting emotion or maybe that's just me but like I said, I'm enjoying the mudita of it all. I love to see people prosper without thinking it will impact my own prosperity.

Mudita? Look it up. Chrissy Teigen taught us all this word this week.

What does affect my prosperity is you buying into me, and my stories. I hope you can still do that even though I'm neglecting you as fuck.

I'm sorry, okay? I might be here a little less than I was, but I'm still here. Just expanding my repertoire a bit. I might even do a new episode of my podcast. 

Just coz.

Anyways, back to work. I hope this blog post makes sense. 

They Want Unique But Not Really

 The other day, I saw this call for novels from Scribd and I decided, why not? So I sent them a few links for a variety of my books.

Even as I did it, I realized that they weren't going to pick any of my books. It's not because the stories aren't good enough. 

No.

It's that when people ask for 'original' stories, what they mean is, 'this story should be recognizable as something already out there in the market, but unique enough that it's not plagiarism.'

They don't really want ORIGINAL original tales.

Listen, ain't nobody going to buy a story about African gay guys, one of who plays rugby and who are caught up in the apocalypse and fighting resurrected Egyptian gods. Who's written that book before? Chimamanda hasn't. Nnedi hasn't. Definitely, all the white interchangeable authors haven't. 

If you're an African you better write Half a Yellow Sun, Things Fall Apart or else, you write a generic story featuring white people doing white people shit. This encompasses everything from fighting aliens to being all sad and depressed about their looks and/or shitty parents, the classic love story; whatever it is. You've read it before and now you want to read it again and pretend it's new.

So even as I submitted my books, I knew that Scribd would pass on them, even as they were specifically looking for 'minority' writers. 

So I moved on in my mind and let it go. 

"But Annemarie," you might ask, "why bother to submit if you knew they weren't going to take your books?"

Well, for one, dear reader, I only came to that realization after I'd already initiated contact. Secondly, it doesn't hurt to try. Sometimes you underestimate people. Rarely, in my case, but it happens. So never disappoint yourself on behalf of other people. Always give them the chance to disappoint you themselves. 

It's the surprises that live in between that space that make life worth living.

Writing One Book For Years

 Alright, first of all, preorder Marcus Devereux here because you need to read this shit. 

Let's get down to it straight away. I started writing this book sometime in several years ago. I wanna say 2015 but it could have been as early as 2012. Life has been hectic. 

Now, as I write my books, and write stories for others, my style grows and changes becomes more refined and less wild. When I started writing Marcus Devereux, I wasn't even a professional ghostwriter yet. I was an academic writer with two books under her belt who decided to try out a new style. 

The closest pop culture reference I had to my style of writing is Baby's Day Out. The youngins might not know this movie, since it came out in 1994. Why did I decide to write a book using the 1st person POV of a baby during a time when I didn't even know the phrase '1st person POV'? 

I don't know.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

It still seems like a good idea and I don't think even after all this time, that it has been done before.

When I tell people or show people some of my work, they tend to get bogged down by harsh reality. 

"How would a baby know this?" 

"This language is too advanced for a baby."

Hello, I'm writing a story about a magical baby but I'm gonna get cockblocked by not making the baby only say goo goo ga? The Sussexes said their son's first word was crocodile or something. And he's not even magical. That's a three-syllable word.

Hello.

It's fiction. Its fantasy. Open your mind.

But going through my work, I definitely see the progression in writing style. This weekend is the first time, in a long time, that I have no client work to do and so I decided to sit down and finish the manuscript. Considering the trajectory of the story I started with, the content is definitely affected by my life experiences. I'm more cynical about the relationships, the slant is more real than fantasy romance. Leo and Mya still be having plenty of sex but I think there's a lot more angst, and fighting and misunderstanding than earlier me would have thought to put in a story. 

In any case, it's a fascinating process, and I cannot wait to present to you, the finished product. I think by the time I'm done, the book will have undergone as many metamorphoses as the cover.

The Art and Science of Research for Fiction Writing

This is a serious post y'all.

I'm going to share with you my process because many have asked me how I do this.
This being, writing stories that are apparently foreign to my own reality.
The first thing that you have to know is to make a story real, you must find the personal connection to it. If you cannot do that, you cannot write the story.
For example; I am not a Somali, neither am I a Muslim, nor have I ever been in an arranged marriage. But I am a big sister. I know that sense of responsibility that is thrust upon you, often against your will. I know the combination of obligation and resentment it engenders.
That was my way into the story.
I know other things about the events in Cinderella by Any other Name quite intimately. Things I wish I did not know. The weird thing is putting them on the page is just as therapeutic as crying about it to a therapist.
Not to slag therapy; if you find the right person to talk to, it can be good. If not, try to find another way. Rihanna didn't want to do therapy after 'the incident' - I suspect she didn't trust anyone enough - but, she did find a way to self-therapize.
As long as you deal with your shit and don't let it fester.

The child of destiny series is based in Louisiana.
I've never been.
I mean sure, the town of Le Marais is fictional but it had to at least retain a few well-known attributes from the place it was based on. (#funfact - I tried to add le marais as the location on one of my Instagram posts and about ten possible places showed up in France, Italy and America. I did not know it was a real place name when I chose it. It simply means 'The Swamp' in French). Lucky for me, I grew up on Anne Rice. And before she became a hack, whew, she could use up three pages on just describing a place.
Even though I'd never been, I've felt that I know exactly what New Orleans is like for a long time. The atmosphere at least, the supernatural and natural history, the weather, the way the streets are built...I had that down. Then, of course, I went to Google University to obtain a degree on all things Louisiana including the fact that its Alligators not Crocodiles that are found there.
It's the little things, you know?
I think I enjoy checking these details as much as I do weaving them into my stories.

Just today, I was writing my overdue regency romance assignment and I thought to myself - Severus is not a bad name for a romantic rival. Let me just google and see if anyone apart from Snape was ever called that.
And lo and behold, there was a Roman Emperor who was around in about 193 BC whose name was Severus Alexander! More interesting...he was born in Africa. Even more interesting, the Roman Empire covered Europe, the Middle East and Africa.
This ain't in no history book I ever read.
This Severus guy conquered a place called Germa or Garama (in modern-day Libya) which was the capital of the Garamantian Kingdom.
193 BC.
That's my history right there I had no clue about.
I googled a name to go in a story set in Regency England and I learn something new about African history. That's the beauty of this game man. There's nothing like it.

Another thing you have to be continually aware of that grounds a story in the period you have set it in is language. You cannot talk about social media if your story is set in the nineties. Some fun things I had to google when writing Child of Destiny include whether Pamela Anderson already had her boobs done in 1990 (she hadn't). I had to check which year Prince released Kiss, to make sure it was okay for Leo to sing it in Mya's ear.
People think writing is easy.
Easy and fun is not the same thing, guys.
One is not like the other.
The most important thing is to love what you're doing. If you don't, it can get tedious really fast. Now go forth and write your masterpieces...after you preorder Marcus Devereux, please!

Does Your Writing Spark Joy?

Good morning! I'm so energetic today after sleeping for ten hours last night. The night before that, I slept for one hour. I think the resultant spike in endorphins or whatever (a very technical term) has led to awakening of a further 10% of my brain.
It's science.
So I have been getting an awful lot of comments on my new chapter of my Mombasa Raha Malec fanfiction. (If this sentence is gibberish to you, I apologise. If you look at the top of this page, you will see a link to 'fan fiction' which will lead you to my home page where you can scroll down and see a story labeled "Mombasa Raha" which is an Alec Lightwood/Magnus Bane story).

The reason I think I am getting all these comments is because I left a note on my last chapter in the hopes of sparking conversation on the whys and wherefores of leaving kudos, comments and author expectation of the same.
I think maybe because of the age and/or mindset of both fanfic readers, what I got instead of discourse was an avalanche of compliments/reassurances. I can't blame readers for misunderstanding my intentions. I've seen too many posts on all my social media feeds from writers begging for comments on their fics, reassurance that people 'like' their stories...I can't relate.
The reason I even posted the note was because of a tumblr post I read in which writers were complaining that "only" 20% of fanfic readers leave kudos, even less leave comments.
Now for a seasoned indie novel writer this complaint is laughable because we're lucky if we get 1% of readers writing reviews am I right?

However, I also don't blame them for misunderstanding my intentions because most writers don't seem to write because it sparks joy in themselves but seemingly for the attention. I cannot count the number of posts from writers, both indie, traditional and fan fiction, complaining about how much attention their books are not getting.
It's such a sense of entitlement.
I'm not sure where it comes from. Who told y'all that just because you wrote something that people are obligated to read it? Y'all better be grateful for that 20% leaving kudos. Nobody is under contract to leave you even one.

Why do we write?
Personally, when it comes to fan fiction, I began writing for my own entertainment, was vastly surprised when people started reading it. Was even more floored when people started asking for updates, and was flabbergasted by the following I garnered. That was on tumblr and my first fan fic was Chrianna.
It gave me the confidence to know that my writing was good enough to share with the world, but I would have continued writing anyway, whether or not my audience found me because I was and still do write, for me.
I write stories that I enjoy reading. I do not need to be 'reassured' about the epicness of my writing although I do appreciate your appreciation. I know my shit is good. I don't really understand writers who go about slagging their own writing. Is it a play for pity buys?

("Oh no no no, you're writing isn't really horrible. See? I bought your book! And I'm even gonna read it. See, I left you a five star review. Now stop crying please?")
I don't get it. It's not proud or boastful to know that you write well. Each one of us has at least one thing that we're good at in this life. For me, this thing is playing with words and making them sing to me. These are just facts.
So, if you're writing for any other reason than you want to, then stop. Life is too short. Go and find something else that you truly enjoy doing. Maybe like leaving kudos.

But if you truly believe in your writing, then stop the negative self-talk. It serves no purpose apart from making you feel bad about yourself and that is no good for your mental health, or your work ethic.
I slept for one hour the night because I had to finish up an assignment. Trust I would not have been able to do it without the total belief that I was doing what I was supposed to, and doing it well. According to Maya Angelou, that is the very definition of success.
Have a successful day, won't you?

Of Clouds and Silver Linings

I think my Instagram is seeing all the action my blog should be.
I'm sorry, but when I'm writing in the moment, Instagram is faster. And sometimes, I even get comments *side eyes all of you*.
How are you doing? How have you been? Are you practicing self-care? Are you asking for help when you need it? It's not a crime to ask for help. It doesn't make you weak. It doesn't mean you're failing.

but I'm asleep tho...

I just read the interview Oprah did with Michelle Obama about her book, Becoming. It really gave me insight into something I've never understood. How fatalistic African-Americans are and how sure they are that everything is NOT going to be alright. Why they only think they can succeed as entertainers or sportsmen. Why the majority of black NFL players do NOT kneel.
It's an insidious thing that American society does.
It's easy for me in my majority black country to judge and say, 'why do you not have the self-worth to fight for yourself?'
But wow, it's complicated.
The American mid-term elections were just carried out and wow, they really took a page from the Kenyan election when it came to rigging. Can I ask politicians a favor? Could you at least try to pretend that you're not totally stealing votes? Like, try to make it less obvious, please. It's insulting to the inelligence of voters. People keep asking why white women keep voting against their interests. The truth is that there are interests and there are INTERESTS. And making sure white supremacy remains the status quo is an INTEREST. Just like Kikuyus do in Kenya. When people have been on the top of the totem pole, they will literally cut off their own feet just to remain there. It's stupid, but apparently, its human nature.

Anyways I'm not going to go and on about it because this post isn't about wallowing in the things we cannot change. It's about figuring shit out.
I've kind of dropped off the face of the planet because thanks to my Upwork score shooting up to almost perfect, I have suddenly become very popular with employers. You'd think it'd make me happy but no, I'm salty because I was this same person when my score was 82% but now, suddenly, I'm a valuable commodity. I'm salty because I'm tired of things that are circumstantial defining who we are; who I am. I use the same samples, I have the same profile, I deliver the same level of service but thanks to a circumstance over whose control I had little, I am now an MVP rather than that chick from Africa who might not even know how to write in English.
So anyway, my scope of job offers has widened, as has the challenge of successful completion. Two weeks ago, I got invited to bid for a regency romance. Now I've never written Regency books before mainly because I've never been shortlisted before. The amount of history you have to study is crazy and the word choices you have to use are a challenge. You have to check that the words you're using were in use at that time and the context was the same.

it was a circle of hell

I prepared by listening to an audiobook while I washed dishes, letting the words permeate my subconscious. I also read a bit but time was an issue; I had seven days to produce twenty thousand words of story.
I thought many times of just throwing in the towel. For the first time in my writing time I thought to myself, "Maybe I can't do this."
Then into day five of my seven day Odyssey, my arms went on strike. They were like, "We are not the ones. You will not do this to us." They do that sometimes when I push them too hard. Nobody tells you how taxing typing is. The pain gets so bad, is unrelieved by painkillers and makes you want to cry because a. I can't work and b. it hurts.
So I couldn't type and I was floundering and I was behind deadline. I've tried to use voice typing before, in genres I'm actually familiar with. It didn't work. The words don't arrange themselves the way they were supposed to. The poetry disappears.
But I was down to the wire and there was no other choice. So I closed my eyes, thought of what I wanted to say, constructed a sentence in my mind and then spoke it aloud. Even that way, it was still faster than typing. My hands were grateful.
It got easier.
I finished behind deadline. By twenty-one minutes. Unfortunately, my client and I are on the same time zone if very many miles apart.
Still.
I did it!
I got the job done.
I figured it out.

Now as I await the verdict; did I succeed in creating a story worth pursuing? did I fail?
I am still changed forever. Because I did something I didn't' think I could. And to be honest, in my humble opinion, I did a good job.
The other thing that resonated with me about Michelle's interview was being a 'box checker'. For sure any African with parents will tell you it's all about the box checking. Go to school, excel, find a job, get married.
Unlike Michelle's, my life didn't follow the script. I was flailing like Barrack. I feel like flailing enables you to really find out who you are if it doesn't destroy you.  Basically, I can't wait to read the memoir.
While we're on the topic of reading, have you visited my author page yet?

Oh So You WRITING Writing?

Heyyy!
It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you...
Sorry, sorry. I have my own mirror bitch. She sneaks into my writing sometimes.
Undoubtedly this sounds like gibberish to you if you don't watch Insecure. So let me explain; mirror bitch is your reflection with whom you share all sorts of affirmations including rapping if that's your thing. Usually, mine consists of lectures and dancing.

Well, anyway...
I haven't just been ignoring you out of laziness or meanness or neglect. I have actually been super-focused on several kinds of writing; which made finding the mental energy to write you the kind of blog posts you deserve, hard. I'm gonna tell you all about them and maybe they will help you on your own writing journeys if you have one, or your life journeys as well. Those are important too.
First of all, it was my birthday last week. I'm now officially forty-four.
Yes.
You read right.
I'm 44.
I'm writing it many times so I can begin to believe it.
I don't know what I thought 44 would feel like but I know this ain't it. For one thing, aside from the maybe increase in aches, pains, and that I can actually see grey hairs on my head; I feel just the same as I did when I was 24. And by just the same, I mean I don't feel like an adult yet...
Yeah, it's true. I'm middle-aged and still struggling to adult. I was going to write that my outlook is the same, and I don't feel wiser but that's not true. I can look back and see my journey and it's progression.
When I was younger, I was in a lot of pain, all the time.
Emotional pain, not the annoying, inexplicable physical pains I experience now.
I was angry at how 'the world had treated me'. All I wanted to do was be left alone and just get on with it and raise my child. I didn't understand why bad things kept happening to me. A lot of that is chronicled in Single Motherhood Unplugged and if you read that you know it's a river of pain and horror.
I read it the other day/year/whatever when I was transferring my titles to a new home and I was so glad that I didn't even recognize that girl that used to be me. I'm grateful to her though. Without her, I would not be.
So yeah, there has been growth.
There has been development.
Yet I still feel that I am just on the cusp of understanding who I am. Of getting to know who is the real me.
Do you watch Red Table Talk? Jada Pinkett Smith has become my guru on how to listen to yourself and navigate this thing called life. And as I listen to her realize things, I, in turn, come to realize that I am in a better place than even she is in some ways. Not all mind you, she's taught me a lot that I still hadn't grasped. Especially when it comes to sons and their mothers and their stepmothers.
It's a bit mind-boggling to tell you the truth. I read through the comments after each episode and come to realize how much a lot of people are still in that place that I have put behind me. It makes me so thankful...and also a bit smug.

Gratitude, honesty and not suffering fools gladly is the mantra that I live by.
Moving on swiftly...
I've been looking more and more into other markets for writing. It's great, putting out your work on ebook retail sites and waiting for readers to find them.
Really great.
Especially with Amazon's ever-changing algorithms and other shady practices that keep being exposed. In spite of how great it is, I thought that I would expand my out-of-the-box thinking to include things inside-the-box such as answering calls for submission. From flash fiction to niche stories, I've been compiling and submitting to magazines et al, because getting an entity to pay for your story is good for your street cred. It's also another source of income which I never sneeze at. Having good street cred is good for ALL your stories and so that's what I'm cultivating now.
I actually finished Cinderella By Any Other Name.
Yeah! Imagine.
It's so good. It made me cry. I was triggeredT. I submitted it to a magazine so we'll see how that goes. Fingers crossed for me?
A blog named Worthing is going to publish Sixes of One next month. I will be sure to link you on the day.
I also participated in this year's Wincest Big Bang for the Supernatural fandom for the first time. It was a weird experience in that I was probably the only black person there and very definitely the only African. I could see how different they treated me like maybe I was a lost chimpanzee that needed to be protected but obviously had no clue what was for its own good. I don't even think they realized their little patronizings.
The mod was very nice to me. Nice like you treat the 'special' kid in class. I thought that I just might be seeing what I expected to see - given twitter - but I was also doing a Malec Big Bang and a Malec Xmas anthology at the same time. The Shadowhunters fandom is a little more multifaceted, with people really from everywhere on earth.
There was such a hugely tangible difference in the dynamic.
I was just another person in the group. One or two were interested in coming to Kenya and asked me some questions but otherwise, just...general camaraderie. Anyway, I rolled my eyes and kept it moving.
Both of my Big Bangs are now up. You can read the Wincest here and Malec here.

I also entered my book In Search of Paradise for a novel contest on inkitt. You can read the story here and then leave a review. Honeypies, darlings, sweethearts, I'm asking, in honor of me birfday and turning FORTY-FOUR, please go leave me a review?
Thank you, here's a chocolate.
Muah.

Lastly, I want to end this post with gratitude. Thank you for reading all the way to the end, you're truly the best and I appreciate you. Have a good day.