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Dylan experienced paroxysms of ecstasy while talking about his writing to someone who had carefully read his work and was genuinely interested. He had beta readers who offered him helpful critiques while writing, but he'd never previously had a fan who really knew his work. It was #sublime. #wss366

For #TransDayOfVisibility, I will continue to make myself visible to fight for trans rights for all the trans people who need to remain invisible where they are. I will continue to write fiction that centers trans characters. And wear visible symbols of trans representation. And advocate for policies that affirm trans safety and equality. #TDOV

I've finally decided to take backups more seriously and develop an actual strategy: https://stevendbrewer.com/new-backup-strategy/

#SilentSunday near Missoula, Montana circa 1988

#WritersCoffeeClub Do you label your works as LGBTQIA+? Why or why not?

Maybe? I label myself as an author of LGBTQIA+ fiction. One of my friends said my writing isn't really queer fiction because, although I have queer protagonists and situations, the works aren't really *about* that. *Revin's Heart* is just a young-mans adventure story about a person who happens to be trans. But they haven't read *Lady Cecelia's Journey*. That might be closer.

There are three sequel novellas to *Revin's Heart*: *Devishire!*, *Campshire!*, and *Ecorozire!*. They have not yet been scheduled for publication. To find out when they are released, you can subscribe to my monthly mailing list. https://author-sdbrewer.micro.blog/subscribe/

"We're safe," Deucecastle scoffed. "There's always been plenty of water."
"That was before the Etheric Storm Generator was used," Revin said. "And you're not the only one considering #crop changes."
"But the water passes through my land first," Deucecastle said. "So there's always plenty."
"For you. But where does the water come from? Whose water is it?"
Deucecastle's face took on an ominous shade.

#wss366 from Campshire!

When I went to graduate school in science education, my goal was to improve how students were taught science. What I discovered was the we already understood how to teach well — that was no mystery. But the only thing decision makers were actually interested in was how to make it *cheaper* without making it *unacceptably worse*.

Guess what AI is *really good at*…

Over top, she wore a dark #cape with a striking orange liner. It flashed color with each step she took as she came down the stairs.
He offered her a hand as she stepped from the last stair. She accepted his hand and stepped down, then looked up at him with a breathtaking smile. (4/4) #wss366

A vision of surpassing loveliness was descending as from the skies. Lady Serena wore an elegant gown of brocaded cream silk with raised orange patterns that were complemented by an orange ribbon that was wound through her elaborate hairdo. (3/4)

He watched the comings and goings of the wealthy patrons of the hotel. The night's ball was on everyone's lips, each wondering who might attend and with whom.
At half-past the hour, Curtains heard a sudden murmur pass through the lobby. He looked to the central staircase. (2/4)

At 6 bells, Curtains returned to the Grand Hotel. It was only a short walk from there to the Palace where the ball was to be held, but he felt it was prudent not to be tardy. After checking with the concierge to confirm that Lady Serena had not yet appeared, he waited in the luxurious lobby. (1/4)

The trail became a walkway paved with stone, worn smooth by countless feet. The walkway ended at a sheer rock face, with immense pillars at the entrance of a cave. At the opening, a quiet, ceaseless #drone of chanting voices was audible.
I took a deep breath and stepped inside. (4/4) #wss366

After lunch, I set out again. The trail was steeper now. I sweated in the afternoon heat. I drank liberally from my water flask.
I heard the bell first. It tolled three times as the trail turned to the right and leveled off. I entered a grove of immense baobob trees. I looked up in wonder. (3/4)

At midday, I reached a small, gushing mountain stream with stepping stones to cross. Once across, I found a convenient boulder in the sun where I gratefully rested my sore knee. I pulled the lunch I'd packed from my satchel and ate, listening to the music of the water. (2/4)

Throwing my satchel over my shoulder, trusty walking staff in my hand, I left the remote village in the early morning. The rocky path wound gradually upwards, smoothed by the feet of countless pilgrims over the centuries. Bird calls in the spruce trees the only accompaniment to my footsteps. (1/4)

Enjoying a sunny spring day on the patio while I can: it's supposed to rain starting tonight, all weekend, straight through Tuesday morning. And it's not even April!

us pol

A lot of people look at Trump and ask, "How can people vote for that?" But then insist on purity tests for any candidate they'd be willing to vote for and wonder why they keep losing.

Weirdest live-action Kemono Friends ever: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPh0dqgsnpI

#WordWeavers What small precious memento does a character keep on their person? What makes it precious?

After Grip left, Revin sat on his bed and pulled out Momo's lace handkerchief, which he kept tucked away near his bedside. He unfolded it and felt Momo's embroidered initials. He closed his eyes and held the handkerchief up to his nose and inhaled, imagining he could still detect a note of perfume. (from Storm Clouds Gather, Part 3 of Revin's Heart)