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Help Middle Child Press Reach 1000 Copies


Originally posted by neo_prodigy at Help Middle Child Press Reach 1000 Copies
"We wear our weird on the outside."

Middle Child Press is a publishing company that was founded by and is for women of color. Their goal: to meet the needs of WOC who have been marginalized, ignored and denigrated by mainstream media. What makes MCP unique is that they not only provide traditional literary titles but also Blasian, gothic, experimental and speculative fiction as well.

And now they need your help. With the release of their latest title, The Woman from Cheshire Avenue, MCP is aiming to sell 1,000 copies by Oct. 15, 2011 with the aims to expand their titles, promote other POC authors, and produce more POC titles.

MCP founders Amaya Radjani and Ankhesen Mié discuss why we desperately need more publishers like MCP.

___________________

Amaya Radjani:

 A year and a half ago, a brilliant young woman named Ankhesen_Mié and I came together and formed Middle Child Press, an independent publishing house for WoC authors.  We specialize in publishing works by women of color authors.  The time has come for WoC to tell our own stories: stories that run the gamut of human experience.  We don’t all write hood lit or streamlined interpretations of our culture.  We don’t all write romance or stories that even slightly paint PoC in a negative light.  The problem is that we’re rejected from the mainstream publishing world by TPTB because we refuse to fall in line with their narrow-minded standards.

We all have a particular slant on the world and it’s time we step up and share them with other PoC.  For instance, Ankhesen typically tackles unusual subjects with diverse characterizations, sometimes with a dark edge, and she sometimes caters to audiences who enjoy that kind of work.  She also writes poetry, and does other amazing things with words and images.  You can find two of her books in our E-store: Violet Dusk and her latest, The Woman from Cheshire Avenue, a novel I lovingly call Chessy Ave. 

I'm into contemporary storylines, Blasian fiction, sci-fi/fantasy and modern gothic subjects and I try to reach a broad audience with my work.  I’m also an author of erotic fiction and the editor of MCP’s erotic anthology The Sultry Court.  My first attempt at Blasian fiction, a novel titled Corruption, is slated to be released within the next few weeks.  But MCP isn't all about us; we dearly want to have a bevy of WoC authors featured in our store lineup.

Ankhesen and I want to give WoC a chance to see their work in print, or in our case, in eBook format.  We are dedicated to MCP, so much so that we ensured its legitimacy by spending thousands of dollars of our own money to get it off the ground.  We have an excellent IT specialist, who ensures that when our product reaches the store shelves, readers are getting the best eBook possible.  We believe in this endeavor, or we would have never fronted the cash to give birth to it.

As of right now, we have three (soon to be four) books in our E-store.  We need your help to spread the word about MCP and what it is we do.  Support us by promoting us on your blogs and websites.  Help get the word out for WoC authors who’ve faced arbitrary hurdles in trying to get published.  We believe in reciprocity; if you promote us, we’ll promote you.  If you follow us, we’ll follow you, be it through blog, Facebook, or Twitter.  It’s the way to get the word out for all PoC authors.  We’ve got to get better at supporting each other.

Ankhesen Mié:

A year and five months ago, Amaya Radjani and I decided to start our own publishing press for authoresses of color.  The Woman from Cheshire Avenue (2011) is our third release in almost a year, and we have a fourth on the way (*crosses fingers*).

When we first got into this venture, we invested literally thousands of dollars and reached out to several female authors of color spanning multiple styles and genres.  I understood that such a endeavor takes time (and money) and I was willing to invest the necessary patience.

I still am.

I believe in what we are doing, most importantly because it's not something I'm seeing widely done, yet is so very essential for the literary needs of the modern WoC.  At Middle Child Press, we wear our weird on the outside, and we want all of you to see.

So please help our cause by spreading the word and boosting the signal.  We're trying to sell 1000 copies of TWFCA by October 15, 2011 (already got a sale this morning).  A main priority of those proceeds - you guessed it - is to try to expand our titles and acquire more professional lunatics authors on the roster, and promote those authors as well.

We don't have much by way of prizes and such for now, but I do promise to keep posting some chapters from the sequel, The Velvet Hall.

___________________

It's no secret that I've been following MCP's releases for quite a while now and I've been a huge fan of their work. Violet Dusk is incredible and I can tell you first hand that The Woman From Cheshire Avenue will not disappoint.

One of the biggest reasons why I've been a huge the MCP titles because they're works where POCs such as myself are provided escapism and a sense of pride. In their worlds, blacks and Asians are wealthy, powerful, accomplished and are not apologizing for their mere existence. Our stories are told with both authenticity and respect. More than that, these are some very talented authors.

And with the recent kerfluffle about diversity in publishing, now more than ever we need to support marginalized media. So for those of you who are constantly stating that we need more diversity, this is an opportunity for you to put your money where your mouth is. MCP is an excellent publisher producing some wonderful titles from some gifted writers. A little support from you will go a long way.




The Rotten - Chapter One


We Three Queens

Six Months Earlier

Mesh was not a tall woman; she was a deep, golden brown shade, and wore her hair in black and bleached white twists.  They look well with her form-fitting all-black leather ensemble, including the uneven silver mesh wrap she wore around her hips, and over her black skirt, garters, and thigh-high boots.  She dressed to match the carefully carved, polished, and well-preserved Lucy, a crossbow her father had fashioned for her when she was ten and he was doing time in prison.

Like her teammates Mesh always wore a tight corset with thick laces in the front; corsets kept breasts in place when one went flying through the shafts.  But while Mesh preferred to be mostly covered, Tattoo and Doe wore corsets which bared midriff.  Mesh saw no point in this, but didn’t push the issue.  She’d never been really “Underground chic” before she was imprisoned.  She’d never had reason to; it wouldn’t have been practical in her line of work.

            Nevertheless, Voice encouraged her to “blend in.”

 

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The Rotten - Chapter One


We Three Queens

Six Months Earlier

Mesh was not a tall woman; she was a deep, golden brown shade, and wore her hair in black and bleached white twists.  They look well with her form-fitting all-black leather ensemble, including the uneven silver mesh wrap she wore around her hips, and over her black skirt, garters, and thigh-high boots.  She dressed to match the carefully carved, polished, and well-preserved Lucy, a crossbow her father had fashioned for her when she was ten and he was doing time in prison.

Like her teammates Mesh always wore a tight corset with thick laces in the front; corsets kept breasts in place when one went flying through the shafts.  But while Mesh preferred to be mostly covered, Tattoo and Doe wore corsets which bared midriff.  Mesh saw no point in this, but didn’t push the issue.  She’d never been really “Underground chic” before she was imprisoned.  She’d never had reason to; it wouldn’t have been practical in her line of work.

            Nevertheless, Voice encouraged her to “blend in.”

 

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The Rotten - Prologue


Prologue: The Bad Girls

            “Hel, what is your status?”

            The metallic tone of the Voice rattled inside the mocha-skinned team leader’s head as she tried to peer through the smoke.  The blast had knocked her halfway across the bar.  She’d landed on a hard metal surface, hitting her head a little harder than usual.

            “Hel?” came the frantic Voice.  “What’s your status?”

            “Murin bombed the bar,” Hel replied weakly, her eyes stinging.  “He’s escaped again.”  She forced herself into a lopsided, all-fours position.  Her knee was pretty banged up, and she was fairly certainly left arm was dislocated…again.

            She tasted blood on her bottom lip as she slid to the floor and tried to move through the smoke to find Sarge.

            “Did you at least acquire the intel?” Voice demanded.  Hel was neither surprised nor offended the Voice wasn’t asking whether or not they were hurt or safe.  The intel was beyond valuable.  It was the top priority and they all knew it.  In fact, it was so important, and Murin was so dangerous, Cleo had to be left at the lab.

            “Negative,” Hel bit out, loathe to admit defeat.    “Sarge!” she called, clutching her left arm with her right hand and hobbling through the scorched remains of the bar.  “Sarge!”

            Near the entrance, a female buried beneath the rubble moaned painfully.  She stirred slowly, pushing aside the broken chairs and table upon and painfully rising to her feet.  Hel noticed Sarge was bleeding from the face and chest.  By the way the tall blonde gripped her side and doubled over in agony, Hel knew Sarge had a few broken ribs.

            “Sarge is still alive, Voice,” Hel croaked, “but it’ll be a while before we can go after Murin again.”

            “We don’t have time, Hel,” the Voice replied impatiently.

            “Well, we’re not Betrayers!” the team leader barked back at her.  Yelling causing her excruciating agony in the right side of her chest.  When she spoke again, her words came out lowly, but no less dangerous.  “We can’t just heal ourselves and take off after them!”

            “I’m not suggesting you go after them, Hel,” Voice corrected her ominously.  “I’m going to have to dispatch the Rotten.”

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Announcement


The more comfortable I get with my regular blog, the more I'm ready to convert this one back to a place just for fanfic and goofery.

Changeover begins now.

Peace!

...And Out to the Wilds - Epilogue


Epilogue: Beyond the Valley…to Starry Skies

Nine years-ish after Serengeti….

Captain’s Personal Log, stardate 2264.182.

Nyota Uhura reporting.

It’s June 2nd, by old reckoning, not that it means anything out here in the black.  At 0800 hours this morning, I assumed command of the USS Meroë, a Serengeti-class ship.  She’s fresh from the shipyards of the dusky Serengeti, and indeed, she is a glorious beauty.  Unlike the ships built at Utopia Planitia, the Meroë does not use standard issue blue and gray shades, but the soothing tones of the Sahara desert during the sunset hour.

I’ve fallen in love, and I now understand what all those old captains and admirals were talking about.  No matter what ships I command in the future, my heart will always be here, aboard the Meroë.

Spock, of course, thinks such feelings are illogical.

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...And Out to the Wilds Finale, Pt. 3


08:00 h

            “Roisiyan may have saved the day,” Vira snorted, “but just to avoid getting exiled.”  She slathered her toasted with butter.  “Asshole.”

            “I can’t believe you’re mad a hot, young doctor hit on you instead of giving you a body to chop up,” Christine blinked.

            “I’ve got my standards,” the Trill sniffed.  “But what about Miss Number One over here?  What’s with the cruel and unusual punishment?”

            The Illyrian sipped her tea unfazed.  “The Klingon was trying to destabilize our shields and leave us vulnerable to attack.  Many innocents would have died.  If you ask me, I think the tribbles got the shorter end of the stick.”

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...And Out to the Wilds Finale, Pt. 2


Serengeti Pt. 2

(A/N: If you are not familiar with the “The Warrior Princess” from the Xena soundtrack, please stop, go to YouTube, and listen to it now.  It’ll make the battle scene a little more hilarious.  Again, thank you all.)    

            Nyota Uhura led the girls into holodeck thirteen, ignoring the ominous number and figuring Spock had chosen it on purpose.She immediately took the Captain’s chair and asked the computer for orders.

            “USS Serengeti is ordered to lead the Eighth Fleet to the Kinoran System to intercept Klingon fleet and engage until reinforcements arrive,” the computer relayed.

            “Estimated time to Kinoran?” Nyota asked.

            At current speed, approximately 23.42 hours.”

            “Estimated time for reinforcements to join us at Kinoran?”

            Approximately 34.85 hours,” the computer replied.

            “We’re looking at an almost 12-hour differential,” Nyota sighed.  She looked at her crew.  “By now, Starfleet is aware of that differential; it was probably taken into account when they decided on a course of action.”  She skimmed the rest of the orders.  “We’ll be outnumbered approximately three to one.”  Pause.  “What do we know about Kinoran?”

            “It’s a binary system,” Number One answered.  “Pre-warp civilization on the third planet and considered politically neutral by the intergalactic community.”

            Nyota mulled this over for a moment.  “Computer, how far to the Dymian System?”

            At current speed, approximately 17.27 hours.”

            “And is the Dymian System en route to Kinoran?” Nyota inquired further.

            Affirmative.”

            Nyota grinned broadly.

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...And Out to the Wilds Finale, Pt. 1


Serengeti Pt. 1

(A/N: Thanks so much, guys!  You have no idea how much fun this has been for me!  Remember: comment, comment, comment!)

Holodeck Thirteen, 19:47 h

Spock walked over to the Chief Science Officer’s station and accessed the ship’s mission files.

“Starfleet orders us to the Kinoran System to intercept the Klingon fleet,” he announced calmly.  “We will be outnumbered approximately three to one, but we must engage the enemy nevertheless, until reinforcements arrive.  Our quarters are located on Deck Seven Section C3, and Gamma Shift begins…now.”

Several holograms suddenly appeared on the bridge, naturally going about their business as though they’d been there the whole time.  Jim gawked at them for a moment, caught off guard and unsure how to proceed.

Spock raised an eyebrow.  “We are relieved for the night, Captain,” he explained softly.  He gestured towards the turbolift.  “After you.”

The boys rode in silence.  The humans were clearly awestruck to the point of numbness; their hearts were no longer beating rapidly and their breathing was slow and even.  Each one dutifully went to his quarters, knowing they needed to get some rest while they still could.

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...And Out to the Wilds - Ch 24


…And Out to the Wilds

Nyota felt her heart stop at Vira’s announcement.

I don’t want to deal with this, a part of her thought.  I’m fresh off the boat from Vulcan and I don’t want to hear this right now.

“You and Hikaru what?” she heard another part of herself ask aloud.  Her inner part snorted, hardly amused.  So much for not wanting to hear about this.

“Well,” Vira began nervously, “the thing is…I won’t be here next year.”

Nyota sat up in bed at once.  What?

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