- 2 days ago
"And how hard is it to land even a minimum-wage job? This year, the Ivy League college admissions acceptance rate was 8.9%. Last year, when Walmart opened its first store in Washington, D.C., there were more than 23,000 applications for 600 jobs, which resulted in an acceptance rate of 2.6%, making the big box store about twice as selective as Harvard and five times as choosy as Cornell. Telling unemployed people to get off their couches (or out of the cars they live in or the shelters where they sleep) and get a job makes as much sense as telling them to go study at Harvard."
- 2 days ago
Today we celebrate the launch of amberlough's THE FIRE WISH, an epic tale of family, destiny, cute boys and [redacted for spoilers].
A jinni. A princess. And the wish that changes everything...
The Fourteenery decided to run with the theme of wishes. Specifically, wishes gone awry,…
- 2 days ago
HAPPY BOOK BIRTHDAY to amberlough and THE FIRE WISH.
1. I stepped onto the dirt and shielded my eyes from the blinding star in the sky.
2. I tried to pray, but all I could do was go through the motions and think about how we were like birds in a cage.
3. Gypsum shards jutted out from the walls, catching the lamplight and scattering it every which way. The shards were as sharp as bat teeth, and I’d had nightmares of them falling and crashing through my house.
4. Didn’t you have to have a soul to cry?
5. In all the stories, there was one place that made me tremble in excitement at the briefest of descriptions. This was the one place my father refused to speak about, which convinced me I needed to hear more about it. It spurred stories, nightmares, and back-and-forth whispering with Rahela and Yashar. And there it was, the nightmare, with all it’s shining, pointy rocks.
Hell itself. The kingdom of jinn.
6. The Lamp sat there, as big as a lion. I wanted to run my fingers through its flame, but like its twin in the Cavern, it hadn’t been lit since the war began.
7. Smoke seeped out my mouth, curled in the air, and smudged the brightness of the stars.
8. “No!” My voice echoed, sounding more frightened than it should have. “This cannot happen.” Talking hurt my jaw, so I cradled it and cried angry tears.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
THE FIRE WISH, ladies and gentlemen. Available to you wherever books are sold.
gifs selected by Natalie C Parker, Julie Murphy, Rosamund Hodge, Bethany Hagen, Elle Cosimano, Annie Cardi, E.K. Johnston and Amber Lough.
- 2 days ago
Source: Truths You Won’t Believe
Debunking more lies and racist misinformation about black men. Stop the ignorance and start to question why these myths exist in the first place, if not to demonize black men and promote the image of us as inherently criminal and violent and incapable of being educated.
(via bethrevis)Source: owning-my-truth
- 2 days ago
Trial By Fire by Josephine Angelini is on sale 9/2/2014.
So very excited for this book from my fierce sister!
- 2 days ago
The air tasted like salt and blood and smelled like creek sludge, and the grinder churned out mounds of pulpy red mush into a five-gallon bucket between my feet. I grabbed a handful of cold fish and fed them to the blades by their tails. When both buckets were full, I wiped sweat from my forehead, breathing hard.
I carried them down the wharf, eyes on the horizon as I struggled to find my balance. A red sunrise turned the river into a sheet of blood-brown glass. A heron dipped low, cutting it with long dragging legs, his eyes following me.
“Don’t even think about it,” I grumbled at him, and clumsily shifted my grip. The metal handles cut into my fingers, pulling every muscle from forearm to shoulder, and grazing my knees hard enough to scratch. If we didn’t need the money so bad, I’d have gladly thrown both buckets into the creek and let the gulls and osprey have at them. At barely six, the air was already thick enough to swim through, and my chocolate milk would be hot and my sausage biscuit cold before I finished.
But this was it. This was everything. The last good summer Dad had in him. The last summer before I’d be out on my own.
“Pick up the pace, Bait Board.” Mitch passed me, slipping his wiry brown body in the narrow space between me and the edge of the wharf. He laughed as one of my buckets knocked a piling, tossing a handful of chum into the dark water and alerting the gulls, who circled eagerly and shat white trails behind me.
I tried not to look at my chest, even though it felt like it was shrinking. Same way he made everything inside me feel like it was shrinking. God, I hated him. Hated them all.
“Man, it’s hot!” Mitch hollered from his perch above the Genevieve. He peeled off his t-shirt and crumpled it into a ball, shaking the sweat from his hair like an unruly wet dog. “Come on, Bait Board! Take your shirt off!” At that, Skeeter and Clayton followed suit, all of them prancing around shirtless and laughing like hyenas.
I gritted my teeth and pretended not to hear them, but a hot flush crept over my hairline, giving me away.
“You should put yours back on, Mitch. Sweaty Loser isn’t a good look for you.”
Mitch spit over the side, glaring at me like he’d as soon throw me in the chum grinder. David watched, half-sitting on a tar-topped piling, thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his shorts. The bright light made him squint, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He made a show of inspecting a pair of rusty pliers, and I half-expected him to say something smart when I passed, but he didn’t say a word. He just glanced at me out of the corner of that squinty eye, his lip quirked up like maybe he’d been smiling.
“Bitsy!” My father cracked his window at the helm and turned down the squawk on his radio. He punched coordinates into his navigation computer and logged an odometer into a logbook that would be forgotten in a matter of hours. He lost a little more of himself each day, and soon, it wouldn’t be safe for him on the water anymore. “Load us up, sweetheart. Tide’s a wastin’.” He turned over the engine and the big CAT rumbled to life, kicking up the smell of diesel.
I lowered my buckets into the stern of the Adrianna, sparing a quick glance at the other boats. Their crews scurried from bow to stern. Mitch was already prepping reels and tying liters and hooks. But their fuel lines were still running. Those bigger boats took longer to fill, and were slower too. We would beat them to the channel.
I didn’t care if they didn’t like me. This was it. This was everything. And I was better at this than all of them.
- 5 days ago
- 5 days ago
i don’t want to live in a world where i’m not allowed to enjoy both Shakespeare and Ke$ha.
Wake up in the mornin’ feel quite Hamlet-y
Grab my skull, I’m out the door, I’m gonna act real shitty
Before I leave, overthink if I’m on the right track
Cuz if I kill my uncle tonight, he ain’t comin back
I’m talkin trying to kill my foe foe
But instead kill everyone I know know
9 deaths in a row row
life sucks, in denmark
but the fightin’ won’t stop
tonight, imma kill
all the traitors in sight
- 6 days ago
Welcome to: If Male Superhero Costumes were Designed Like Female Superhero Costumes!
Aaaaa I dunno. I got tired of guys having no idea why girls find female superhero’s costumes kinda sexist, so I, um, made this?
My main goals were: 1) Make it so the first thing you think of when you look at them is sex, whether you want to or not. 2) make it so that any male human who looks at this feels really uncomfortable. 3) make it funny, because, well, it’s kinda hilarious really.
Not trying to start a war here, just wanted to poke a bit of fun.
So, here you go menfolk, welcome to being a girl who likes comics.
I am posting a lot of political stuff today, aren’t I? But this is so perfect.
(via ladyskylarjade)Source: fernacular