Good morning, Readers!

Yesterday was quite the day.

I spent all of it asleep.

I didn't mean to.  It was just what happened.

I suppose I must have needed it.

But genuinely, all I did was sleep.  It was all I could do.

That's not a fun feeling.  I wasted the entire day.

I just couldn't get up.  I mean, I went from the bed to the couch.  That's it.

As a result I don't really have much to report about the weekend.  Nothing that I want to talk about anyway.  The state of the world right now is upsetting, though I've seen so much stuff that makes me hopeful, too.  But though I am plenty rested, I don't have the energy to go through it all here.

So I won't.  Instead, I'll just go on with my Welsh lessons, and beta reading.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So.... It's a rough time, yeah?

It's easy to feel overwhelmed and powerless about now, and that can be paralysing.  So I'm here to tell you that it's okay if you need to step back a little from time to time (or a lot).

You must take care of yourself, or you won't be able to care for anyone else.

You cannot pour from an empty cup.

On that note, let's open a thread in the comments.  Tell us about a great thing that happened recently (or not recently), or post funny pictures.  Let's all take today to relax and laugh, and remember what is good in the world.

Because there is good in the world.

Promise.

​Alright, comments are open, have at it!

Good morning, Readers.

If you haven't guessed already, I'm passionate, opinionated, and I'm blunt.

I don't tout these as virtues, though I don't think of them as vices, either.  In truth, I'm trying to work on my bluntness.  It's certainly done me no favours.

But there are some things I make no apologies for.  One of those things is calling people out when I feel they've crossed the line.

I can't keep my mouth shut.

I understand that there are consequences to that.

Speaking out is hard.  Doing the right thing is difficult.  That's why so few people do it, I suspect.  Standing against an overwhelming tide of hatred is scary, exhausting, and thankless.  You risk alienating friends and family.  You risk angering the mob, and those fuckers will come after you.  And what opportunities are you slamming the door on when take the risk and stand up for what is right?

These things are hard to face.  Which is why most people elect not to face them, I think.  That is why so many people are performing the bizarre mental gymnastics that I've been seeing everywhere.  Perhaps that's why they've convinced themselves that standing against Nazis is the same as being a Nazi.

No one who flies the Swastika can claim the moral high ground.  They are proudly flying the flag of an ideology responsible for the murder of millions of people.  They knowingly claim kinship with this.  They pick up that flag and they march, knowing the history, claiming it as their own, fighting for the right to continue their genocide.

You cannot claim descendancy from that ideology and also say that you are non-violent.  It doesn't work that way.

And they don't want it to.  They are trying to make the world afraid.  They understand precisely what they're doing when they march beneath that flag, chant those slogans, and make those salutes.  Making people afraid is the goal.  Using their murderous history to create the fear is their goal.  Those who cower in fear won't be resisting them.  Fear is their way in.

They're terrorists.

I have heard "being against Nazis is the same as being a Nazi" as a phrase is thrown around a lot in the wake of Charlottesville.

No.  No, it fucking isn't.

That makes as much logical sense as "being against murder is the same as being a murderer."  Because that is exactly what is being said.

We need to decide what we, as a society, are willing to put up with.   We don't have to put up with murderous bastards marching in the streets, demanding the world bend to their whims.  Society must have its boundaries, or else it crumbles.  And those boundaries change as we learn and grow.

It used to be that in some societies, pederastry and the marriage of eight-year-old girls to much older men was not just tolerated, but encouraged.  Then we, as a society, learnt better and said Fuck no! to fucking children.

We used to accept the concept of divine rule.  Then we, as a society, said Fuck no! to that nonsense.

Hell, America was founded on one giant Fuck no!

The point is, we don't have to tolerate these murderous terrorists in our midst, as much as they pretend we must.

And we won't, if people just stand up and say so.

The unwillingness to do so is incredibly telling about what we, as a society, actually believe.  Do we actually believe that bigotry is abhorrent?  Do we actually believe that racism is untenable?  Homophobia is unthinkable?  Ableism disgusting?

Then it needs to be said.  It needs to be enforced.

If you are unwilling to do so, then you have to face the fact that you're okay with bigotry.  You're okay with racism, homophobia and ableism.

And there is no trotting out the "I can't be racist/homophobic/ableist, I have [insert blank] friends!"  Because here's the naked truth: Nazis' crusaded against, and murdered people on these grounds.  It wasn't just jewish people they threw in those gas chambers, it was queer and disabled folk as well.

If you are unwilling to stand against those carrying the Nazi banner today, then it doesn't matter how friendly you are with your non-white, queer and disabled neighbours, you are not their friend.

It comes as no surprise that the only people I've seen trying to justify their unwillingness to counter their home-grown terrorists are white.  Being white means we can step back and shrug.  As long as we're not the ones lighting the torches or running people over with their cars, we're not guilty, right?

And yes, that is true.  We, as white people, aren't all doing the terrible things that Nazis have and are doing.  But we are also the least likely to suffer from it.  We can afford inaction, because the privilege of the accident of our likeliness to get burnt after a few minutes in the sun means that we will be the least affected by what they're doing.  So we can step back and wash our hands, like so many Pontius Pilates.

Both sides are as bad as each other, we can claim, forgetting that one side is fighting for the rights of non-white, queer and disabled people to simply exist, free from the threat of genocide.  There is no equivalency.  None at all.  The two sides are not even close.

That fucker who drove his car through the counter-protesters in Charlottesville, for example, said, on a school trip to Dachau concentration camp, "This is where the magic happened."  Don't try and pretend that people standing against people like that are the same.  They're not.  And you know it.

I know when I speak out, I am closing doors.  I know that there may be publishers reading this post who will decide that they don't want such a cantankerous, opinionated woman on their publishing rosters.

It makes me sad, and nervous when speaking out, because I want that publishing success more than you can know.

But I speak out anyway, because I believe a world where my nieces and nephews, my goddaughter, and any children I may hypothetically have one day don't have to worry about getting gunned down at school, or run over by a car, by an entitled Nazi who wants to rid the world of people just because they exist and are different from him is important.

And I don't think I'd want to work with a group of people who think the Nazis are alright by them in any case.

I know when I speak out, that there are friends who will shun me.  I think I'm quite lucky with my family.  Much as I disagree with some of them about other things, I can safely say not one of them is a Nazi or a Nazi sympathiser.

It makes me sad, because they're not bad people, even if they're horribly misguided.

But I speak out anyway.  Because it matters that I do.

And I'm not sure they're my friends in any case.  Are they going to stand aside and do nothing when the hate gets turned to a group I belong to?  Friends don't do that.  They stand up for one another.  If I can't be sure they would, then I guess they're not my friends after all.

I know when I speak out, I will lose part of my audience.  People will unlike my Facebook page (has happened), unfollow me on Twitter (has happened), and stop reading my books.  My success as an author depends on people reading my books.

But I can't let the fear of professional failure stop me from doing what I so strongly believe is right.  So I speak out.

I know when I speak out, I may garner the attention of the bastards I'm speaking about; and the angry mob will come for me.  There will be doxxing, threats on my life, and probably legitimate safety issues (don't pretend this isn't something they're known for).  I have an advantage, in that I'm white, and relatively unknown, so my voice will get drowned out or thoroughly ignored.

But the threat is always there.  Always hovering.  And that threat is doing what it is intended to do: silence dissent.

I don't want that for myself.  I don't want that for the future.  And so I speak out.

I speak out because it is unconscionable to me to remain silent now.

The time for silence is past.

Those standing against Nazis are not as evil as the folk they're resisting.  It's dishonest to pretend they are, even if it does protect you to believe it.

So now it is for you to decide.

Either you stand against the hate, or you are with it.  There is no middle ground here, much as it comforts to pretend there is.

​Decide.

If ever you wondered what you would do when faced with unspeakable evil, now is the time and here is the place you will find your answer.

Ciao.

Good morning, Readers.

Charlottesville.

It's all I can think about of late.

There was no shock when the events of Saturday unfolded.  No shock at the hordes of angry white arseholes chanting Nazi slogans, carrying flags of oppressive, anti-American regimes, and performing Nazi salutes.  No shock at the tragic death of a counter-protester as a Nazi rammed his car through the crowd.  No shock at the mobbing and beating of a black man by a group of white cowards.

I was not shocked.  I was sad.  I was, and am, angry.

I'm angry that in 2017, after two world wars, this shit is still happening.  I'm angry at these idiotic cunts who think that an accident of melanin levels in the skin is some sort of basis for prestige.  I'm furious at the fuckers in the middle who will not take a stand against it.

How dare you?.  How dare you attend the memorial services of those brave men and women who gave everything to stop this hate from spreading?  How dare you stand in silence for one minute?  How dare you murmur the words 'Lest we forget'?  That is not remembering them.  That is not honouring them.

Remember them, honour them, by taking a fucking stand.

Or they gave their lives for naught.

It's not asking the world for you to denounce these people.

Heather Heyer, a thirty-two year-old counter-protester, who did have courage, was murdered.  Because you could not find the courage to nip this thing in the bud, because it was easier to stay silent, a woman was murdered by fucking Nazis on US soil.

How can you let this stand?  How dare you let this stand!

*deep breaths*

I'm angry.  I'm so, so angry.

Don't pretend, either, that you can reason with these kinds of people.  They aren't coming at this from a place of reason.  Hate is beyond reason.

If they were capable of rationality, they would acknowledge the science that literally says that races are not a thing; we are all some blend of Homo Sapiens and other hominids.  If reason were part of their thinking, they would not be angrily chanting about the end of the white race, because they have literally never been under assault in the US.  If they were capable of reason then they would be aware of the monumental irony of calling themselves patriots while simultaneously marching under flags that were anything but—the swastika and the confederate flag.... are you fucking kidding me?

Logic and reason means nothing to these people.

What you can do is stand up and tell them that their hateful rhetoric is not welcome here.  That their views are unwelcome in civilised society.  You don't even have to march to war to do it.  You don't have to throw so much as a punch (yet.  Don't let it get to that point).  All you have to do is stand up and say it.  Stand up.

There is no middle here.  Stop trying to fool yourself into believing in one.  By doing nothing, by saying nothing, whether you like it or not, you're choosing a side.  And you're not choosing the good side.

And don't think you're off the hook, Canada, what with these Proud Boy bastards.  There are hateful, evil people here too.  Now is the time to stand up.  If you see these ignorant, hateful asses starting trouble, stand up!  Do something!  Anything!

Let them know that this will not stand.  Not here.  Not today.  Not ever.

For fuck's sake, humanity.

​We're better than this.

Good morning, Readers!

My father has returned from his trip to Australia, and so we went out for dinner and a movie to celebrate.  I requested The Dark Tower for the night's entertainment.  The series is literally the only Stephen King I've enjoyed reading, and I've excited about this adaptation for a while now.

I genuinely really liked this movie, but, it needs more Roland, and more Roland vs. Walter.  Roland and his obsession with the man in black is what makes the series, and I feel it was a little neglected here.

The film was great.  My personal wish for more Roland vs. the man in black and more of Roland in general, I know doing so might have resulted in a less pleasing movie overall.  The story was solid, and included enough nods to the original material to make me happy.

The story, to be clear, centres on Jake Chambers, a particularly gifted boy of the sort the man in black is hunting down.  This is not the main thrust of the story in the novels, but it really did work.  Roland's own story is so broad and sprawling that a two hour film could not possibly do it justice.  They were right, I think, to focus on Jake.

Incidentally, regarding Jake, this movie was much happier than the books... so...  There's that.  People who've read the books will understand.

That said, the depth of the relationship between Roland and Jake was wildly under-explored in this film.  That's really more to the nature of the medium, than any fault of the writers or actors.  It's almost impossible to spend time on the small, meaningless moments that would convey such a bond, without making the film run for at least an hour more.  There simply wasn't enough time to prove that bond.

Similarly, there is a fight Jake has with a house demon that had the potential to be a very scary scene.  It was under-served in the film, lasting, I want to say, all of a minute.  It could have been a bit longer, a bit more frightening, at least a little more true to the books.

That said, the inclusion of the house demon at all was great, as was the inclusion of Roland's infection.  For those who have read the books, Roland's infection happens in a vastly different way (no lobstrocities, alas), but it actually worked well for the film.  I liked these small nods to the events in the source material, even if the restrictions of the medium required monumental changes to them.

As far as the acting goes, everyone involved was excellent.  Matthew McConaughey plays the man in black in spectacular fashion.  He is entirely believable as the gaunt, soulless sorcerer trying to bring about the apocalypse.  Walter is frightening in this film, a threat that is played so smoothly you are immediately drawn in.  He has the right charisma to play something so evil.

The boy who played Jake was also amazing in his role.  The actor's name is Tom Taylor, and he is genuinely wonderful in the role.  That was some great casting, there.  I really did feel for him.

Last, but not least, Idris Elba was brilliant as the Roland Deschain, last of the line of Eld.  While he certainly doesn't look how I imagined Roland to appear when reading the books, he was fantastic in the role.  While the film really did under-serve his character, Mr. Elba played what was given beautifully.  All you broflakes can go cry yourself to sleep.  Idris was awesome as the last Gunslinger, and now I won't be able to see anyone else play him.  Idris is Roland.  And a damned fine one too.

My one gripe is that there was not enough of him.  There needed to be more of the kick-arse moments showing what a Gunslinger can do; how they might have been such an incredible force to be reckoned with, and thus showing, by their defeat, how powerful and terrifying the villain is.

Oh, I have another gripe:  The weird cheesy ending.  The whole movie was dark and fantastic, and then the ending felt pulled straight out of an 80's feel-good film (though the sign on the movie theatre Roland and Jake walk past made me laugh.  I really appreciated that).

I really enjoyed this film.  Given the restrictions film has, as opposed to a series of novels where ideas and relationships have more room to grow, this adaptation did a great job.  Was it perfect?  Of course not.  I think that The Dark Tower would have been served better by a long-running mini-series like they're doing with Game of Thrones, it was still a great movie and a fantastic way to spend an evening.  It would have been better had the ending not been so cheesy.

I will probably be adding this to my personal collection... not least of all to rewatch those kick-arse gunslinging moments.  I wish there were more of them.

Good morning, Readers!

I need to rant because some goober on Facebook has decided that the academic use of Roman-Britain is somehow incorrect, and we should all be using Roman-England instead.

I want to tear out my hair for the stupidity.

Would it kill people to open a damned history book?

Here is my response in full BECAUSE I CARE, DAMN IT!

"OH... MY... GOD.

England did not exist during Roman occupation. It didn't exist for a while after, either. The invading Germanic forces of the Jutes, Angles (from where we get the name Anglish (English)), and Saxons as well as Danes were merely just other non-Roman tribes staking a claim to the island of Britain.

Unable to stem the attacks, and under attack on other edges of the Empire, Rome withdrew from the island of Britain.

England still wasn't a thing then, either. It was, for the most part, a series of independent kingdoms ruled variously by Jutes, Angles, Saxons, and Danes.

It wasn't until the 10th century, 927 or something like that, that these various newly-made kingdoms of foreigners were united under Athelstan, Alfred the Great's grandson (who united the kingdoms of Mercia and Wessex (Wessex, interestingly, called themselves English), and conquered Viking Northumberia). Germanic peoples continued to rule that region, probably calling themselves English, until...

In 1066, William of Normandy, a French-speaking Scandinavian invaded, and won at the Battle of Hastings, and thus became King of the English... and for a while, French was the language du jour. It wasn't until the 14th century or so before English once again became the dominant language in England. It was not for the rest of the island until more recently.

England is the name of one of the kingdoms located on the island of Britain; and island named Britannia by the Romans, a name believed to be derived from the Brythonic Celtic (ancestral language of the Welsh, incidentally) name for the island (Prydein, or something similar). At the time of Roman occupation, there were many, many domains; not one of them England.

Mr. Lee is absolutely correct in saying there would have been no sense of national identity other than a loose confederation of people who share an island. The closest the British came to one was during the Boudiccan Revolt of 60/61 ad, when Boudicca, queen of the Iceni managed to unite all of three (count 'em) three of the many Celtic tribes living on the island in an effort to push Rome out. Though she razed three cities to the ground, she did not succeed. She might have, if there was some sense of national identity. There was not.

About the question of national identity, Britain still doesn't have one, other than the fact that they live on the same island. Want to test the theory? Ask a Scotsman if he considers himself English. Do the Welsh consider themselves English?

Neither was there in Gaul, which is why Vercingetorix was ultimately unsuccessful in defeating Rome there. National identity came too late to save Gaul, though Vercingetorix did try to stir some up.

Roman Britain is a perfectly reasonable name to use to describe the time and place, given that the Celts living there had only language and place of residence in common (seriously, even a number of important cultural markers like burial traditions differ substantially).

British is accurate.

English is not.

Would it kill people to open a damned history book?"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

It's just so damned frustrating!

I'm alright.  I'm alright now.  *twitch*

And if you didn't know all that, now you do.

Right, now i'm off to learn a BRITISH language that is not English.

Ugh!

Ciao.

Good morning, Readers!

The date has been set for the celebration of the books that have been published so far this year with Renaissance Press.

Mine included.

Duh.

But yeah!  I'm super excited about it.  It's always a fantastic time.  Here are the deets:

Date:        3 September, 2017
Time:        5:00pm - 7:00pm
Location: 3 Brasseurs
                 240 Sparks St.
                 Ottawa, ON
                 K1P 6C9
                 website

I'd love it if you could come.  It's always a fun time, plus you get great food and good beer, so there's that!  If you are planning to come, please RSVP via Facebook, so we can give the staff at Le 3 Brasseurs a heads-up.  You can RSVP here.

I'm really thrilled, and can't wait to celebrate the release of Daughters of Britain with you.

Until then, it's back to my Welsh lessons.

Ciao!