Bloodchildren: Stories by the Octavia E. Butler Scholars

Nisi Shawl

Language: English

Pages: 162

ISBN: 2:00236239

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


Eleven original stories by recipients of the Octavia E. Butler Memorial Scholarship (2007 through 2012), plus a reprint of "Speech Sounds" by the scholarship's namesake, Octavia E. Butler. This anthology also includes a brief memoir of Butler by her Clarion classmate Vonda N. McIntyre and an introduction by Nalo Hopkinson. Edited by Nisi Shawl and published by the Carl Brandon Society, the administrator of the Butler Scholarship Fund.

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Twentieth Century Russian Poetry: Silver and Steel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

like a person! So like a person, yet so attentive! A clump of ill-used Barbies destined for a local charity climbed out of their cardboard box. They spotted Selma. Some tiptoed her way, gathering at her feet like puppies huddling under their mother. The other Barbies remained near the box and clutched each other, burying their faces in each other’s glossy synthetic hair, afraid to move on their own. Some stray Greek worry beads clacked up and down, hopping really, in their desperate need to

the Kingdom.” She wants to make her son see, to choose more wisely; not to hurt him. In a rush, Savary says, “Whatever happened to that wonderful Johnny boy you used to run around with? The carpenter from the boatyard? Oh, you two were lovely together! Kéké was his name, I think. Why not—” She cuts herself off. For it seems her big mouth has hit on some name that had better been left unspoken. Her son’s face wrings with such suffering as who could want for her own child, and Savary’s at a loss

Someone thin, all musk and funk and black as Papa almost, passed by with a guitarra; and someone else too, more naked, with long, locked hair and skin no darker than palms and soles, like browning butter. Both young bodies tattooed, somehow, in phosphorescence. Reggaezzi. He’d never seen any before, hardly heard of them. But he knew at once. A boy and a girl. The boy one sat in the sand and tuned his guitarra. The girl one touched her toes, no, she was laying her hands flat to the packed sand

as earmarked for the Octavia E. Butler Memorial Scholarship Fund. Here’s our mailing address: Carl Brandon Society P.O. Box 23336 Seattle, WA 98102 The science fiction convention WisCon’s parent organization, the Society for the Furtherance and Study of Fantasy and Science Fiction, granted us $2000 to cover Bloodchildren’s publication. This money helped to pay the Butler Scholars for their fabulously fine stories, me for the weeks I spent editing them, Laurie T. Edison for producing the

kind critic, a quality that carried over into her teaching. Estelle was a serious morning person and I’m a night owl. She never complained when I started typing along about the time she went to sleep. The Clarion State College dorms were built of cinderblock, and carried the sound of typing quite efficiently—even the tape-loop typing of one student who, we discovered later, would put the loop on his reel-to-reel recorder, set it running, and take a nap. But he was in the half of the corridor

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