This is a little late for me this year. But I find myself thinking of this story every fall. Seanan has a way of making me feel nostalgic for things I have little to no experience with like...
This is a little late for me this year. But I find myself thinking of this story every fall.
Seanan has a way of making me feel nostalgic for things I have little to no experience with like carnival boneyards, or have no natural nostalgia for like high school football games. And this story just feels like autumn to me, more than pumpkin spice anything. I am hopeful it'll evoke some of the same feelings for folks without any (American) football experience.
Because while this story starts with a football game, it is not about that. There are teams and players and cheerleaders and also there are none of those.
Anyway I hope folks enjoy. Seanan is one of my favorite authors and as she's incredibly prolific I get the pleasure of reading a lot of her work.
Thanks for posting this. It gave me chills. My favorite of hers is the Newsflesh trilogy, written as Mira Grant. But you're right, so much of her work is excellent.
Thanks for posting this. It gave me chills.
My favorite of hers is the Newsflesh trilogy, written as Mira Grant. But you're right, so much of her work is excellent.
I love the Newsflesh series. Hearing her talk about how she couldn't write it today due to the politics of the world and the pandemic hits home. I did just realize in the reread this year how...
I love the Newsflesh series. Hearing her talk about how she couldn't write it today due to the politics of the world and the pandemic hits home.
I did just realize in the reread this year how deeply tired I am, and how this year the Falcons would be for me. I may have cried harder at it than in the past few years. Perhaps because I hold out a vague hope that there is some sort of homecoming for myself someday.
Sorry if that was too vulnerable, but I surprised myself.
This is such a beautiful answer that I'm keeping you! In a little bottle, your words. Mine to keep and set free only for when I don't need them anymore.
This is such a beautiful answer that I'm keeping you! In a little bottle, your words. Mine to keep and set free only for when I don't need them anymore.
Terribly sorry but my folk don't do well in glass bottles, we devolve to shouting "Hey" and "Listen" /hj But thank you, though I feel a bit like I'm missing a bit of context
Terribly sorry but my folk don't do well in glass bottles, we devolve to shouting "Hey" and "Listen" /hj
But thank you, though I feel a bit like I'm missing a bit of context
This is a little late for me this year. But I find myself thinking of this story every fall.
Seanan has a way of making me feel nostalgic for things I have little to no experience with like carnival boneyards, or have no natural nostalgia for like high school football games. And this story just feels like autumn to me, more than pumpkin spice anything. I am hopeful it'll evoke some of the same feelings for folks without any (American) football experience.
Because while this story starts with a football game, it is not about that. There are teams and players and cheerleaders and also there are none of those.
Anyway I hope folks enjoy. Seanan is one of my favorite authors and as she's incredibly prolific I get the pleasure of reading a lot of her work.
Thanks for posting this. It gave me chills.
My favorite of hers is the Newsflesh trilogy, written as Mira Grant. But you're right, so much of her work is excellent.
On a slightly lighter note, I hope you've read her mermaids books as Mira Grant! I say slightly because given Seanan, they're murder mermaids.
I love the Newsflesh series. Hearing her talk about how she couldn't write it today due to the politics of the world and the pandemic hits home.
I did just realize in the reread this year how deeply tired I am, and how this year the Falcons would be for me. I may have cried harder at it than in the past few years. Perhaps because I hold out a vague hope that there is some sort of homecoming for myself someday.
Sorry if that was too vulnerable, but I surprised myself.
This is such a beautiful answer that I'm keeping you! In a little bottle, your words. Mine to keep and set free only for when I don't need them anymore.
Terribly sorry but my folk don't do well in glass bottles, we devolve to shouting "Hey" and "Listen" /hj
But thank you, though I feel a bit like I'm missing a bit of context