#life of ts

sometimes you write a thing because you need to express something

and then you look at it

and you consider the possible ways it could affect readers if shared

and then you do not share it because none of those ways are good.

some things are written just for the writer, and that’s ok.

swordbiter:

updating your characters backstory to make it less edgy is like dragging them out of a hot topic by the collar of their mcr shirt 

Hey, so, some of my stuff is going out of print?

Less Than Three Press is closing down, so my books will no longer be available by the end of the month (7/31/‘19). If you’ve been wanting a copy but had been holding off for some reason, now would be the time to get one, especially if you wanted it in print!

I’m going to figure out how to put them back online myself, but it might take some time.

Clicky right here to go look at my books!

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about where I am with my publishing ‘career’ and how I want to go forward, how I want to build it.

I keep circling back around and around to an idea best summarized as “too poor to have standards”

Which are words I fucking hate. I hate with every fiber of my soul even writing them, which is why I’ve been stewing over it for two months before setting fingers to keys to make a post like this.

It is the antithesis of everything I’ve tried to build my life around. I might live in abject poverty, but I have standards. I try to eat well, and spend quite a lot of time cooking from scratch to put good and interesting foods on the table. I try to dress well–out of thrift stores and free boxes. I try to write well, with an eye toward bringing goodness and joy into the world. I try to treat others well, with kindness and compassion.

I try.

I have tried to be choosy about where I publish my work.

For reasons I won’t rehash here ([link the first]and[link the second]) I decided to stop submitting my writing to LT3 press. I look at those old posts, and I do not regret that choice from a moral standpoint. I made the only call I felt I could in the situation.

And yet… LT3 was the best source of money I had. No other press has come close to matching what I could make when I was submitting to them. When I was selling them stories, I was putting money into my surgery fund–the carefully hoarded stock of pennies that will someday (if I am lucky) allow me to get a gender confirmation surgery to alleviate my dysphoria.

When I stopped selling to LT3, I stopped being able to.

And so here I am. Looking at how good a press LT3 is on paper. They publish a wide variety of queer genres with lots of representation. They pay their authors well and on time. They have good covers. They have editors that are good to work with. They come out with interesting anthologies and collection calls that never fail to make me go 'ooh, I could write–’

They just, sometimes, have catastrophic oversight issues. And I don’t know if things have gotten better or worse on that front since I stopped submitting, because I stopped buyingfrom them at the same time. I don’t know.

Right now, I find myself beginning a draft of a novella for their new “Creature Feature” collection call, torn in two directions. I want to stick by my guns.

I also want to be able to buy myself nice teas to drink, and put money in my surgery fund, and make frivolous purchases maybe once or twice a year.

I’m too fucking poor to have standards.

Hey folks!

I occasionally write things that are unsafe for a puritanical work environment, and post them here. So far tumblr isn’t coming after written works, but I don’t entirely trust that to remain true forever.

I’m @tsporterauthor on twitter, if you want to find me elsewhere.

weep, then, for the injustice

shed tears for what you cannot have

what you so desperately need

what you will never be allowed

let the sorrow weigh

like lead in your lungs

mourn your fill

then climb out from your blankets

wipe your eyes, stand up

and carry on

you are given no other choice

ts-porter:

weep, then, for the injustice

shed tears for what you cannot have

what you so desperately need

what you will never be allowed

let the sorrow weigh

like lead in your lungs

mourn your fill

then climb out from your blankets

wipe your eyes, stand up

and carry on

you are given no other choice

I wrote this poem back in ‘18, when I’d been laying in bed crying about being unable to access trans-affirming healthcare (like you do). Now in ‘22 I’m about two years in on hormones, and finally getting the very surgery I had been needing. I’m getting the thing I’ve been waiting over twenty years for.

And, just… Gods-damn am I glad that I wiped my eyes, stood up, and carried on. Because it’s not for forever. It’s just long enough to get there. <3

ts-porter:

Recently I’ve been having a fun time thinking about a group of adventurers going up against some sort of kingdom-threatening bad guy that nobody can stop (as one does), only when they finally reach him the bad guy starts monologuing! Yes, he is protected by a Prophecy that No Man of Woman Borne can kill him! (macbeth is a classic for a reason and if jirt can steal the line so can I. no regrets.)

Cue the party huddling up to plan like ‘ok, is this man-as-in-male meaning the ladies can go Éowyn on his ass? or is it Man as in mankind as in human? Do we go get some attack dogs somewhere? An attack cow? What? Cows are way more dangerous than sharks, there’s statistics about it! Whatever, we don’t have time to go get an attack animal! What if it’s about identifying as human? Quick, is anyone in the party a furry? C'mon, don’t be shy, the kingdom is at stake!’

Meanwhile the quiet one (it’s always the quiet ones) sort of hanging in the background of this panicky planning sesh goes 'huh’, and then he just walks straight up to the still-chortling big bad and slays him dead.

Stunned silence.

Then of course there is a lot to do in the aftermath and everybody’s busy, but later the rest of the party is like 'ok, really, how did he do that’. They are trying to figure out what’s up with their bro. Let’s call him Brian. Brian the Baneslayer, that’s got a ring to it.

So the party’s trying to figure out what’s up with Brian and how he managed to kill the big bad despite the prophecy. They’re like 'is Brian a trans woman, have we been misgendering Brian this whole time!? Is Brian somehow secretly not human? We definitely need to ask Brian. What, no! You can’t ask directly, Brian is like the most private person ever! We’ve just got to make sure Brian knows we’re cool and accepting no matter what so Brian can tell us how the flip the prophecy was eluded.’

Mission: We Affirm All Identities is go! Various party members, with various levels of awkwardness, 'casually’ bring up stories of their own queer identities, or that of their beloved friends and family and… Brian smiles and nods and makes quietly supportive noises and that’s it, no sharing of stories. They have semi-staged arguments concluding that 'people are definitely people and deserving of all support even if they were somehow not a human people’ and Brian just sort of nods along and still nothing.

(the quiet ones, man, their secrets are too powerful)

Anyway, this goes on for several weeks before one of the more straighforward of the party members breaks down like 'Brian, Brian, we all love you so much no matter what your whole deal is and how you got around the prophecy. we just love you, ok?’ (yes, alcohol was involved)

And Brian cracks up, as he finally puts together what the team’s been trying to do. “Oh my gods, you nerds. I forgot you didn’t know. I’m not trans or anything, my parents are. I wasn’t borne by a woman. My dad had me!”

Brian’s parents were semi famous loophole-exploiting trans adventurers back in the day. They’re very proud that he’s carrying on the family tradition.

Literally everyone where he grew up knew his parents and their famed exploits. Brian just kinda forgot that having set out to make his own name in the world, separate from his parents, people aren’t automatically going to know about his family situation if he doesn’t tellthem.

So, I’ve gotten quite a few new followers thanks to the Space Shanty story. Hi, new followers! Welcome. I don’t post here all that often, but here are a few important things:

Black Lives Matter

Trans Rights are Human Rights

Borders are Immoral

The entire fucking point of living in a society is to take care of one another. A society which will not take care of its most vulnerable is a failedsociety.

The unfollow button is easy to find.

newsmutproject:

Anything for the Mission by Gerri Leen

Eleven Buttons by Jaye Raymee

Touch by D. Fostalove

The Inherent Eroticism of Cave Painters by Tiana Talaria

Smooth Sailor by HD

Synchron by Evadare Volney

Snowblind by Jordan Castillo Price

Dressing Dana by D. F. Marazas

Make Them Shine by Sossity Chiricuzio

Contentment by Alain Bell

3 Flash Fictions by Lawrence Schimel, translated by Sandra Kingery 

The Current Catches You by Amy Parker

Different Kinds of Perfect by Elliot Sawyer

A Purr for Sir by K. Martin

Breathe Into Me by Kei Griot

My Barbarian Boyfriend by Rosalind Chase

The Glorious Prince by Intesar Toufic

Standing Quarter by Rachel Rackley

In Sync by Sprocket J. Rydyr

Irrumiato by Ryan DeVry

Sacred Things by Micah BlackLight

After the Flood by Harry Mercury

Queen of Hearts, Servant of Spades by Anatoly Bellivosky

Pairing Mode by Art Holland

Dinner, Served by Meiveen Tan

Spidersilk on Green by TS Porter

The Ingenuity of Our Forefathers by Rudy Keyes

Leather, Silk, Wood by Jo Green

Translations // A Triptych by Guinevere Chase

Crime and Punishment in Little Tokyo by Flint

The Honey Thieves by Zodian Grey

Blessing of Venus by Serena

The Observer Effect by Liz A. Vogel

Spark by Alex Freeman

His Right Hand by Lou Skelton

Art and Movies by Sharyn Ferns

Hot Coffee by Keeko-Anne Chrome

Shimmy by Allison Armstrong

When Someone Speaks Your Language by Derek Des Anges

Patience by Anna Sky

Breathe by Chloe Spencer

All in a Rush by Cecilia Tan

A Study in Circuits and Charcoal by Jem Zero

Two Kinky Dialogues: Gear Queer & Ones and Zeroes by John Theriac

Mogra by Vinay Kumar

Darkness, Heat, and Light by Athena Ryals

The Night Before the Morning After by Camille Devine

Going With the Flow by Kalinda Little

The Measure of a Man by A. Zimmerman

Two Queer Fairy Tales: Marigold and Emelia & Bitter Leaf Juice by W.D. Rose

Eratois available for preorder on Gumroad, Smashwords, and Amazon. Excerpts and cover art coming soon!