WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER, AND
WE PROBABLY LOVE TOO HARD
A ZINE W/ WRITING, ART, TWEETS, EMOJIS (BASICALLY WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT) ABOUT BEING A QUEER CUTIE!
WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER, AND WE PROBABLY LOVE TOO HARD is an online zine (for now) that will feature work of anyone who identifies as gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, nonbinary, genderqueer, trans, agender, and any other sexual orientation or gender other than heterosexual or cisgender (and no, that’s not heterophobia or cisphobia, sry)
stuff to submit:
nonfiction - any personal occurrences/thoughts/feelings/etc. short essays, lists of yr favorite queer movies or books or writers, reviews, helpful sites, anything really! preferably up to 500-1000 wrds.
poetry: preferably not over a page in length, but do yo thang <3 feel free to send more than one poem, maybe up to 3 or 4..is a good number? yeah sure do that
art: draw stuff! use photoshop! hell send yr hot selfies! do w/e you want. you get the idea by now. since it’s online you can send us pretty colorful work, or b&w if you fancy.
how to submit:
email us at firstname.lastname@example.org
we can also take subs through our tumblr if you prefer
also, if you could send a short bio with your work just so i could get to know you a little bit, that would be great! i’ll try to put them at the end of the issue, so send some links to yr sites if you’d like.
**note: obviously, you don’t have to submit work that deals w/ gender or sexuality or any of the above, send in what you’d like! i just think it’s important for queer artists to get their work as much attention and publicity as possible, so send your best!
**another note: i don’t think i need to remind everyone to be respectful and keep in mind the feelings of others. if i get work that could potentially offend someone else it will not be used in the zine.
q’s? just shoot us an ask. okay that’s it for now, love u qts <3
First off, I wanna thank everyone who bought any of my e-books! You guys are awesome and truly helpful, that money mostly goes towards helping with bills and rent, so thanks for contributing to keeping me off the streets! It makes me pretty emotional to think about how supportive people are…
Greek myths mention several Islands of Women, where Amazons lived without men, only consorting with neighboring colonies of males at certain seasons when they wanted to conceive their children. Taurus, Lemnos, and Lesbos were said to be such all-female societies. The Greeks apparently feared them. They said the women of Taurus sacrificed to their Goddess all men who landed on their shores; and the women of Lemnos had risen up against their husband and murdered all of them at once. The Greek writers seemed to have no doubt that women could destroy whole populations of adult males, and there was no effective defense against them.
— The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets, Barbara G. Walker (p. 26)
Giles Corey - No One Is Ever Going To Want Me
Jenny Holzer, 1998, from the Survival Series
woody allen, the irredeemable creep whose obvious misogyny was misinterpreted as creative genius by the college-boy mentality.
Isn’t it time to acknowledge the ugly side? I’ve grown quite weary of the spunky heroines, brave rape victims, soul-searching fashionistas that stock so many books. I particularly mourn the lack of female villains — good, potent female villains. Not ill-tempered women who scheme about landing good men and better shoes (as if we had nothing more interesting to war over), not chilly WASP mothers (emotionally distant isn’t necessarily evil), not soapy vixens (merely bitchy doesn’t qualify either). I’m talking violent, wicked women. Scary women. Don’t tell me you don’t know some. The point is, women have spent so many years girl-powering ourselves — to the point of almost parodic encouragement — we’ve left no room to acknowledge our dark side. Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.
— Gillian Flynn, speaking about her novel Sharp Objects (via turquoise-rings)
At first, heartbreak made me beautiful.
My skin fluoresced. I hypnotized trees.
The orphans followed me around town,
drunk on my pain. I ate only my own
hunger, gave off a scent like bitter oranges
or chlorine. Loss left me strangely whole,
as if my sadness, were it strong enough,
could turn your ship around. That was back
when I aged. Now, like an astronomer
who seeks no first causes, but only to map
the connections pinned out over the sea,
I want to diagram the light that shines out
through the holes you pricked into me.
— Maureen Thorson, from Applies to Oranges (via oh-girl-among-the-roses)