Dear Lesbians and Gays — I’m Bisexual and You Treated Me Like Crap: I’m done with you by BETH SHEROUSE

My dearest gays and lesbians —

I’ve loved you since before I even knew you. From a young age, I was drawn to your transgressive sexuality and gender expression, your courage to be yourselves in the face of oppression, your fabulous rainbows and your sensible shoes.

I’ve marched in your parades, joined and organized protests for your rights, volunteered with your local groups and worked for your most prominent national organization.

I’ve loved you fiercely and advocated for you tirelessly. But I’ve finally accepted the fact that you will never love me back because I’m a bisexual woman, and you have shown me time and again that you are not here for me or my community, despite the numerous disparities we face in comparison to you and the non-LGBTQ community.

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I want to make a point on the “lesbians sleeping with men” trope

There is an over abundance of stories about lesbians falling in love with or sleeping with men.

There are a ton of shitty examples (Chasing Amy, Kissing Jessica Stein, The Kids are Alright) in mainstream media.  For some reason filmmakers in particular love to tell this story (though literary adult fiction does it a lot too).  It always ends with the lesbian either staying a lesbian, turning straight, or adopting some vague no labels bs so she can be with the dude.

I know no lesbians who like these stories.  They are sick to death of seeing them.

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A new chapter of Lacunae

Major Aula Reed is a Canadian fighter pilot, veteran astronaut, closeted bisexual, and survivor of the worst accident in space exploration since Space Shuttle Columbia. The first permanent outpost on the Moon should’ve been cause for celebration, but its destruction gutted a generation of moonwalkers.

By the spring of 2046, the accident approaches its tenth anniversary. Aula is stationed on a new lunar base where her second mission is constantly overshadowed by her first. To live separate from Earth means facing radiation, meteorites, and equipment failure while under constant public scrutiny. Despite the demands of her job, Aula struggles to find meaning in what happened. Even if it challenges the lies she told herself, the people she loves, and the rest of the world.

This is a story of the near future informed by the lives of today’s astronauts, whose triumphs and tragedies are immortalized in the public eye.

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Science fiction’s invisible women

Everywhere, actually. Science fiction – our modern version of those ancient mythic stories – was invented by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley in Frankenstein; or, A Modern Prometheus. In recent decades much of the best SF writing has come from women writers, from Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale and Doris Lessing’s Shikasta to Mary Doria Russell’s The Sparrow and The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffeneger, with hundreds more catalogued at the excellent SF Mistressworks.

But a genre that women have done so much to shape seems to have been co-opted by men. Of 29 Grandmasters of Science Fiction, only four are women – Connie Willis, Ursula Le Guin, Anne McCaffrey and Andre Norton. This year the two major UK awards for science fiction – the Arthur C Clarke and the BSFA – both announced all-male (and also all white and rather elderly) shortlists. Women, we were told by the Clarke judges, were simply writing fantasy, not science fiction.

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A new chapter up for The Rust

 

By the 23rd century, humanity has colonized its first planet: Mars. Far removed from Earth’s military power, resources, and affluence, daily life on the red planet is chaotic and dangerous.

Mig is an aging mercenary who relies on dwindling civilian contracts to earn his living. Olivia is a brilliant programmer who struggles with a medical condition she’s too poor to treat. They live and work together in the small settlement of New Shanidar, but a chance encounter starts a sequence of events that threatens to destroy their lives, their loyalty to each other, and all hope for a better future on Earth.

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Sex and Sexism in Space

Science fiction can act as a mirror for our society. Sometimes the reflection isn’t flattering. Take, for instance, the common trope of hooking up with hot anthropomorphic aliens. Now this wouldn’t irritate me in and of itself (or else Star Trek would’ve given me an aneurysm), but it always seems to cater to the straight, typically male audience who turn around and say “diverse” characters aren’t realistic.

I can hear you groaning from here. Oh, Christ. Not another SJW diatribe.

Well, no. Not quite. To paraphrase movieverse Mark Watney: “I’m gonna science the shit out of this.”

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