gradientdescent

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Author Jack Stein / artist / gardening nerd between March and August 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ Art tagged #embroidery Art & writing NSFW / be 18+ please

'You'll choke too' - an aerial embroidery landscape inspired by all the wildfires happening right now... I'm upset every time I smell smoke outside and somehow we have people starting them maliciously too! But we all breathe the same air so they'll choke too (1/2 - see thread for close-ups)

An embroidery hoop containing a sewn landscape from above. It shows a forest on the right, a line of fire and charred ground with smoke on the left. The smoke is felted wool.

Today in “details nobody cares about but me and that honestly won’t even make it into the text, probably” I’m just straight up reading encyclopedia entries about the different types of auditory organs in insects

Thinking about this a fair bit lately too. I write a lot with peers (online & in meatspace as well; Sunday writing brunch is a highlight of my social life) so certainly other real humans will attest to watching me scowl at my ipad and type for hours. But it’s still impossible to prove the negative.

KJ Charles@kjcharleswriter.com · 5d ago

All of this week--the Human Authored nonsense, the million-squid cancelled deal, the flying accusations--leads me to ask, how the hell are authors meant to prove that we haven't used AI? I see people saying "timestamped drafts" but I don't save multiple separate drafts. And what does that prove?

Can't believe I almost let July slip away without celebrating the first anniversary of Demonsmoke's RESIN WROUGHT! A brutally heavy album all the way through, I love it!! This was also the first time my cover art got released on vinyl & Transylvanian Recordings absolutely killed it! Congrats to all!

Bild

The other thing I spend way too much time on for a work that’s ostensibly a monsterfucking romance is the cruelty of extractive industries and the commoditization & abuse of workers in pursuit of profit, but you’ll have to rip this theme out of my cold dead hands before I agree to edit it out

"I reckon you'll be happy to have your privacy back, huh." Davis tried to
keep his tone light. Might as well not make this harder than it had to be.
They neither agreed nor disagreed. "Will you go back to mining?"
"Probably. Bills gotta be paid."
"I wish you would find a safer way to do so." He was about to explain that this was as safe as it got. That if you ever wanted a chance to pay off your debt and live free, you had to take risks. That even the safe, low-paying jobs would kill you all the same. They'd just take longer. You'd die in 40 years of heart disease or emphysema or thyroid cancer instead of in a half second from a gas explosion, and that was fine, he'd made the decision and the fact that he wasn't dead now was honestly a bigger
unexpected complication than the accident itself.

I probably overthink a lot of stuff more than necessary for writing smut (starship propulsion, orbital mechanics, petroleum engineering in low-g environments) but “what is the spaceman’s cultural relationship to gender identity and the phallus” is at least topically relevant.

“I am truly sorry for the loss of your penis."
Davis burst out laughing. When he finally stopped giggling, he explained: "No, no. Don't worry about that. I mean, I didn't have one to begin with."
Now THEY sounded confused. "Ah. My condolences? I understand it is...
an important cultural signifier." Davis guffawed, finding it impossible to brood in the face of this kind of absurdity. "Naw, it's really ok. I like it just fine. Coulda had one installed years ago if I wanted, but they can be kind of a nuisance getting hard all the time and what-not. Plus the trouser cave's got a lot of utility when you like to bottom and woah, you know what, you didn't ask for all that. Thanks though. Really
appreciate the, um, attention to detail."
"As long as you're satisfied?"
"I most certainly am."

I’m still a little mad at the cat for her shenanigans and I am now, at 3 PM, ready to fall asleep. But at least I’ve hit my 1k words for the day so I don’t have to feel guilty about it. Not that I HAVE to feel guilty, but I would. Goddamn ingrained puritan work ethic trauma etc.