Sunday Livin’: Searching for RWOC Speculative Fiction

*breathes in deep*  *looks around*

This isn’t the world I remember.  It smells…toxic.  Noxious.  What is going on here?

No matter.

I’ve decided to build an army.  No, not a harem.  An army.  We will fight with brown gold and yellow jade and ride black unicorns.  We will make magick and cross worlds.

And I’m recruiting.

That shooting star up there?  That’s me, skipping across the digi-verse, looking for womyn and gyrls of color who are making radical womyn of color art.

Like Andrea Hairston:

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Sunday Livin’: Matana Roberts’ Coin Coin

 

Writing so often (and in such crowded cafes), working alongside music aficionados, and teaching about New Orleans is forcing me to reconsider getting into jazz.

My knowledge of the form pretty much begins with Natalie Cole and ends somewhere in the blue with Miles Davis.  And it’s not that I’m uninterested.  But I’ve got a tendency to play what I like over and over until I’m sick of it.  And since that process may take years, I miss a lot of great stuff in between.  Like Cassandra Wilson…

…which popped up in my Pandora station one day (her ole fine self, singin like an angel…lawd).

Enter Matana (Mah-ten-ah) Roberts:

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