I hide a smirk,

pretend to mash buttons,

as if I don’t know how they work.

If you believe in an author’s work, fight for them.

“Did you notice I dance on planets that exist in liminal spaces?”

“Growth is communing with all parts of myself for my betterment.”

“Standard English ain’t everybody’s standard.”

“A coward will claim America is already great. The brave will declare that America cannot be great until we all are. And the weary—the tired? They will not waste words—they will act, knowing that change is never spoken into existence; it is forged through might, a call to action, an overthrow.”

"You paint Blackness as ghetto, like that too isn’t art."

“Sitting in quiet spaces sometimes means sitting with yourself and quieting your mind.”

This is where I went wrong—or right, depending on how you see it. I hired an editor I believed would deliver an amazing copy/line edit, but it turned out they weren’t as qualified as I thought.

“We invested in classes, took courses, and leveled up. Our writing has soared, and we’re connecting with the right people. If no one else is fighting for us, bish, we’ll fight for us.”

So, when I hear someone say, "I don't read Queer books," what they're really telling me is... I partake in silencing minority voices because of my moral supremacy.

I hopped on the bed, willing myself to stay in character. Just one night. That's it. Just one night. I'll get paid and I'll never see him again. 

18+

Rated R

"What's love without punishment? What's pleasure without pain?" The captain slapped Myon's ass again and stepped back to see the entire view.

18+

RATED R.

The poor must continue to grind. We must continue to plow the metaphorical fields, break our backs and bruise our fingers picking cotton, and slave away at a 9-5 until the day we die.

By the end of the year, I want to be stable, running a successful business, not accepting bare minimums—neither from others nor from myself. I want to be centered, at peace, saving for my new dream car and a downpayment for my house. This year, I am not settling for less.

When it comes to diversity and representation, it is easy to include different people with various backgrounds when it reflects an author’s real life.

I turned to James, his hair was wet with thick blood, his throat slit, his smile wide, and eyes crazed.

In an effort to connect with my ancestors, I embarked on a culinary adventure, delving into recipes that resonated with my heritage. Among them, Shrimp and Grits held a special place in my heart. But little did I know that this seemingly simple dish would teach me a profound lesson about resilience and perseverance.