It’s an experiment.
I’ve written two books with such a protagonist. Pantomime, which just made a top ten title for the 2014 ALA Rainbow list, and the just-released sequel, Shadowplay. The first one is set in a circus and the second on a magician’s stage.
You don’t have to reblog to say you’d read MY books (though that’d be nice and part of the hope of this post is that it’ll spread awareness that my books are out there), just that you WOULD read one.
Woah the notes on this have gone crazy today! I thought I’d mention that the publisher for these books has folded so they’re currently orphaned (but still available to buy for now). I’m selling short stories set in the same world to help raise money for possibly self-publishing the third book in the trilogy. Please consider taking a look? They’re $1.99 and .99. One is set in the circus and one has mermaids! Thank you xx
I absolutely love this series - for the way it presents an intersex/trans/bi character, and also for the characters and the story itself. It’s such a shame that the publisher has dropped the third book.
Support the author and buy one of her short stories, or just spread the word.
I HEAR THOSE SLEIGH BELLS JINGLING
RING TING TINGLING TOOOOOOOOOOOOO
COME ON IT’S LOVELY WEATHER
FOR A SLEIGH RIDE TOGETHER WITH YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
WHY IS THIS ON MY DASH ITS NOT EVEN AUGUST YET
CHRISTMAS IN JULYYYYY!!!!!!
so far i’ve seen southern, southwestern, and northeastern gothic, but nobody’s talked about how great MIDWESTERN GOTHIC could be. listen:
- weird happenstances in fields, bloody pawprints and pressed-down cornstalks, a clump of soybeans flattened into esoteric shapes
- small towns with big secrets multiplied by a thousand, uncanny locals with a hand for spells
- mysterious hitchhikers with glowing eyes on the side of a dimly-lit highway
- taking detours down a backwoods dirt road, getting entranced by the glowing lights in the thickly knotted woods (sure are a lot of fireflies out there. i’ll take a look. just for a moment.)
- dilapidated buildings, the old falling-apart house in the empty lot at the end of the road you always avoid without knowing why. the crumbling farmhouse by your grandparent’s place in the country that calls to you when you drive past it in the dark
- billboards proclaiming HELL IS REAL, mile upon mile of windmills that uproot themselves and rearrange in the night
- always traveling, the significance of crossroads, staying in a shoddy old hotel advertised with a flickering neon light, surrounded by miles of pavement
- more weird field happenstances because fields are so important. mint that can charm a village, blueberry patches with torn and dirty pieces of fine clothing in them. unnatural noises from cornfields at night, figures near it that can only be glimpsed out of the corner of your eye
…this is actually my life.