scrubjayspeaks: fountain pen and spilled glass bottle of blue ink (spilled ink)
I probably shouldn't get in the habit of letting Kickstarter suggest other projects I might like--that way lies madness and empty wallets--but damn:

Dark Fairies - a queer art book
“Dark Fairies” is a 200+ page fully coloured artbook and anthology of comics, short stories and illustrations about dark fairies and queer desire. From cannibal fae to sneaky shadow pixies, this book is a must have for any fan of fairies.

I didn't find my way to it soon enough to snag the bundle that would get me a print copy of their previous anthology, Fey: A Guide to Butch of The Fae Variety, as well, so I opted to just get the digital bundle of the two of them. Admirable restraint on my part, considering how very much this is my jam. The art all looks fantastic.
scrubjayspeaks: photo of a toddler holding an orange tabby cat (baby Joyce)
There was a post on tumblr at some point (please don't make me track it down right now) that talked about how the internet, and relationships with people on it, is a bit like fairies and fairy tales. The dangers of giving out your true name, mostly. The arcane rules. How you can seem to get trapped and lose time there. Which, yes, absolutely legit. That being said, I have a vague idea about a variation: customer service.

Only I'm not sure if we're the fae creatures, or if the customers are.

Having a customer ask for your name is one of the most terrifying experiences. Sure, every now and then they want to leave a nice review that mentions you by name. This has even happened--more than once!--to someone I know. Usually, though, it is the beginning of A Complaint To Your Manager. Alternatively, I have a pair of customers who have just...straight up given me a new name. I remind them of a young relative (these are, of course, older white people of a certain temperament), so they just started calling me by this other person's name. The mind boggles. That's not exactly a know fairy tale event, as far as I know, but it sure seems like it should be.

Arcane rituals of politeness must be observed, or you will end up cursed. Certain phrases hold mystical power. People often appear to be in a trance and will behave strangely; sometimes you can trick them into things just by planting suggestions at the right time.

Time moves strangely in most customer service workplaces. It stretches and compresses according to the needs of narrative, rather than by any physical laws or, hah!, the needs of the people working there. An eight-hour shift has the ability to consume approximately three months of your lifespan, while half-hour manager meetings will absolutely spit you out into a different decade than the one you left behind. It is always both ALREADY two o'clock and ONLY JUST two o'clock.

I don't know, it's a work in progress. I'm convinced that most workplaces are, if nothing else, liminal spaces to one extent or another. Customer service is a very shitty adventure story.

[ETA: never mind, of course I went and found it, what is time anyway?]
scrubjayspeaks: photo of a toddler holding an orange tabby cat (Default)
Sometimes books just...come into your life at the right moment.

At the library, I had been looking up something else and came across a title for Charles de Lint I wanted to look at. I forgot, though, before I left the library that day. The next time, I remembered his name but not the title, so I just found him on the shelf. The book I got--The Wild Wood--was not the one I had originally seen. Reading the back, though, I thought maybe I needed to read this one anyway.

Sometimes books find you.

Eithnie has lost her inspiration for her paintings, which are technically good but lack spirit. She goes to stay at her cabin in hopes of reconnecting with the natural world. While there, she starts having strange visitations from the local fae.

The fae are both a metaphor and entirely literal. This is a paradox that deeply pleased and reassured me. I needed this sense of weird possibility right now. The lush descriptions of nature were just gravy, of course.

I read the whole thing in a couple hours--it's a thin book--and I'm inclined to read it another time or two. I want to really work the story into my skin.

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