In which I talk about why I’ll never read some books ever again–even though I used to love them.

In which I talk about why I’ll never read some books ever again–even though I used to love them.
Bad copyedits, non-existent blacklists, and failures of empathy.
In which Odyssey Con is still on fire and doesn’t seem to realize it.
In which Odyssey Con sets themselves on fire and aligns with a serial harasser and known missing stair in SFF.
I didn’t realize how much of a fog I’d been walking around in until it wasn’t there anymore. A post about depression, anxiety, and creativity.
I write about books, culture, disability, and whatever else strikes my fancy. I have many opinions.
I am a two-time Hugo Award finalist, in 2017 for Best Fan Writer and in 2021 for my essay “George R.R. Martin Can Fuck Off Into the Sun, Or: The 2020 Hugo Awards Ceremony (Rageblog Edition)” in the Best Related Work category.
Please do not offer me medical advice. I have something like 10 doctors and it’s already pretty challenging to keep up with what they want me to do. I do not have the bandwidth to process any advice that doesn’t come from one of my doctors, no matter how well meant the advice may be. Thank you!
Here’s some wishlists in case you want to buy me something.
I try to keep them reasonably up to date.