|Sis:||And then I felt like you know. And it was like yeah.|
I can’t speak for elsewhere,
but here on Earth we’ve got a fair supply of everything.
Here we manufacture chairs and sorrows,
scissors, tenderness, transistors, violins,
teacups, dams, and quips.
There may be more of everything elsewhere,
but for reasons left unspecified they lack paintings,
picture tubes, pierogies, handkerchiefs for tears.
Here we have countless places with vicinities.
You may take a liking to some,
give them pet names,
protect them from harm.
There may be comparable places elsewhere,
but no one thinks they’re beautiful.
Like nowhere else, or almost nowhere,
you’re given your own torso here,
equipped with the accessories required
for adding your own children to the rest.
Not to mention arms, legs, and astounded head.
Ignorance works overtime here,
something is always being counted, compared, measured,
from which roots and conclusions are then drawn.
I know, I know what you’re thinking.
Nothing here can last,
since from and to time immemorial the elements hold sway.
But see, even the elements grow weary
and sometimes take extended breaks
before starting up again.
And I know what you’re thinking next.
Wars, wars, wars.
But there are pauses in between them too.
Attention! — people are evil.
At ease — people are good.
At attention wastelands are created.
At ease houses are constructed in the sweat of brows,
and quickly inhabited.
Life on Earth is quite a bargain.
Dreams, for one, don’t charge admission.
Illusions are costly only when lost.
The body has its own installment plan.
And as an extra, added feature,
you spin on the planets’ carousel for free,
and with it you hitch a ride on the intergalactic blizzard,
with times so dizzying,
that nothing here on Earth can even tremble.
Just take a closer look:
the table stands exactly where it stood,
the piece of paper still lies where it was spread,
through the open window comes a breath of air,
the walls reveal no terrifying cracks
through which nowhere might extinguish you.
"Here," Wisława Szymborska. Translated by Clare Cavanagh & Stanislaw Barańczak (via commovente)
Perfect timing! After Speaker for the Dead, I’ve been in a sci-fi mood.
this list has been brewing for a few weeks and now is as good a time as any to post it. although it’s by no means comprehensive and is really only the tip of the iceberg, here are (in no particular order) 30 speculative fiction (sci-fi/fantasy/dystopian) books written by women of color
- Dawn by Octavia Butler
- Redemption in Indigo by Karen Lord
- Wind Follower by Carole McDonnell
- Mindscape by Andrea Hairston
- Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson
- Dragon Sword and Wind Child by Noriko Ogiwara
- The Icarus Girl by Helen Oyeyemi
- Salt Fish Girl by Larissa Lai
- Half World by Hiromi Goto
- Silver Phoenix by Cindy Pon
- Guardian of the Spirit by Nahoko Uehashi
- Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin
- The Iron King by Julie Kawaga
- Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
- Hammer of Witches by Shana Mlawski
- Ico: Castle in the Mist by Miyuki Miyabe
- Orleans by Sherri L. Smith
- Dualed by Elsie Chapman
- The Killing Moon by N.K. Jemisin
- What’s Left of Me by Kat Zhang
- Filter House (short stories) by Nisi Shawl
- Huntress by Malinda Lo
- Legend by Marie Lu
- Signal Red by Rimi B. Chatterjee
- The Conch Bearer by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
- The Island of Eternal Love by Daína Chaviano
- My Soul to Keep by Tananarive Due
- Cast in Shadow by Michelle Sagara
- Ascension by Kara Dalkey
update: kate elliot is not actually a woman of color and i’m confused as to how she ended up on this list :(