Consent

Powered-by-love_ShimmyShake0
“Powered by love” by ShimmiShake0

I’ve thought about the matter of consent many times, and in many ways. You, my readers, pretending you can’t read the neon signs between the lines, have also asked me what I think about consent. I’d started creating a poll on my SurveyMonkey account, but abandoned it as I got busy doing other things. It’s time I asked these questions, and it’s time I told you were I stand.

There you are, a person in this world, minding your own business. You got up this Saturday morning, nursed a hangover maybe, had breakfast with the family or alone, and set off to have a productive day. It was going so well.

But then you went out, and were walking back to your car or reading the ingredients in that jar of pickled pig’s feet (in which case you deserve everything coming your way), when you feel darkness envelop you–or if imagined by me, a beautiful violet light–and you lose yourself in it. When awareness returns, you find yourself changed to enormous proportions, or more to the purpose of this blog entry, turned into a shrunken person/robot/furry/ghost/keyfob.

But wait, there’s more. This is no regular shrunken hero’s quest, there are no tasks connected to attaining spiritual growth, you will not meet a wise old cricket that will teach you rad fighting moves and telekinesis so that you may defeat a formidable foe. Nope.

All that’s there is a much larger someone that wants to touch you, and the poll I created refers to how you feel about those advances. Some of you roam that tiny world on the warpath, undefeated in battle against those my size. Sometimes you don’t even die, or at least have super strength that helps you keep big ones at bay.

Others live in a (mostly) peaceful world where they have the same rights as those of last get size, or at least it’s thought that they should have some rights. Right? I mean, we can’t just go around killing tiny people, stepping on them  or popping them in our mouths like candy. They are people! Right? Don’t look at me; tell the poll what you think:

What about consent in a size world?

Good. Now I’ll tell you how it is.

I live in worlds where tiny people are naturally born small, and considered human beings the same way most people on this Earth are. I also live in/write about worlds where everyone was once normal sized, and only those of a certain gender or two are made tiny by force. Sometimes I’m the one that gleefully pushes that button. In those stories, published and unpublished, those tiny people are treated with varying degrees of severity.

And there are those stories centered around one woman and one man. She shrinks him without consent, she touches him without asking, and she has her way repeatedly without the least concern for his acceptance in the matter. That’s how it is in my heart and in my head. I don’t ask my shoes if I can wear them when I slip my feet into them. Likewise, I don’t write about characters that ask for permission to shrink, to grab, to love, to use what belongs to them.

I’m an owner by nature, and I let that nature drizzle over what I write as often as I can. I don’t know why I’m this way, and every once in a while I feel a hint of alarm the stems from my strong conviction that this is really who I am, and I don’t just play one on TV… so the people I create in my worlds are equally singleminded. They stop at nothing to get what they want, and offer no excuses or apologies afterwards. My one saving grace (if I can convince anyone to think of it as such) is that there is very little chance I’ll ever gain the power to shrink others or grow myself.

However, I’m quite interested in forcing myself to write from different perspectives, so if in the future you see blog entries and stories that play counterpoint to the aforementioned, just know I’m toying with my brain. For fun and growth. Maybe if my brain grows, my body will follow. Here’s hoping.

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Cruel January 2018: the Stories

Mantis.gif

I’m no longer going to explain the history behind my friend Aborigen‘s contest because it’s rather easy to learn if you poke around long enough. All tiny people need to know is that the contest series exists, and this is its second year running. Last year I entered the #CruelJan17 contest and had a very difficult time wrapping my head around writing a Cruel story. I was pushing my boundaries as a storyteller, and it transformed me. That came as no surprise, since forcing the brain to do something new generates change (I wish that change involved a literal height increase, but you and I know this Universe is appallingly malevolent when it comes to making my Size wishes come true).

I didn’t experience the same thing this year. I had many ideas for my stories and was only able to work on a few, but it happened effortlessly, and I actually enjoyed the process. That change pleases me, as it’s exactly what I wanted to accomplish last year. I did have a great deal of difficulty with one story I didn’t complete. I’ll explain why when I post it here in a few days. It will be password protected as some of my entries are now, so if you like to read it, contact me and I’ll make sure you get the password. If you want to steer clear of my naughtier content, your wisdom is to be commended and your logic is impeccable. Though I will make note of your location for future destruction, as it appears to be a hotbed of subversion and entropy, a wretched hive of scum and villainy, etc.

Something else I did was offer readers the chance to win some “prizes”. It’s mostly just for fun, and I have yet to get around to delivering rewards to people that guessed correctly the #ButtyJuly17 stories that were mine. I haven’t even posted those! I’m running behind. As always, whoever guesses which story (or stories) is mine wins a drawing of their choice, to be delivered sometime in 2020.

All #CruelJan18 stories can be found here.

Read them, or I will destroy you.

Enjoy them, or I will end everything you love.

Vote for your favorites in various categories, or I will crush all the ice cream.

You’ve been warned.

Cruel January 2018

rld_beach_play
“Beach Play” by RLD

Remember this thing? It’s time to woman up again, whether or not I want to or feel ready. I don’t want to and I don’t feel ready, but I’m going to participate anyway. I don’t read Cruel stories and I don’t like to write them, but ideas are in my head, so I’ll enter them… if I complete them. I failed to do so during Unaware October, and I’m not being too hard on myself about it, but I’ve reached a point as a writer where I have an obscene amount of incomplete stories, and notes on stories about which I’ve done nothing. If I insist upon calling myself a writer, I reckon I better write.

If anything can put me in a Cruel mood, it’s probably being welcomed back into the contest while being addressed as a “fun-sized snack”. Feeling I’m the tallest woman in the universes and reading that I’m nothing but a between-meal nibble conjures up the very essence of cognitive dissonance. I’m sure I’ll channel that into the whirling vortex of emotions now coursing through my heart, so as to produce something truly despicable.

Anyone that wants to compete still has the whole last third of December to do so, and will be in very good company: https://sites.google.com/view/crueljan18. If you’re a writer of Cruel stories, you’ll be in your element and challenged to present it viably in two thousand words. If you write Gentle stories, you can try something new, and see if you can redefine the genre and yourself. If you’ve never written anything before, you can start with a story for this contest.

As for me, I’m going to do what I always do; I’m going to type up the stories already in my head even if they defy conventional size cruelty, or even if they align perfectly with what’s out there. It will be difficult, bitter, heart-wrenching, and exhausting. But hey, that’s a Wednesday in Size world… what else is new.

Size Tunes 2017

Serenade
Lah lah lah

I’ve had this idea for years. I contemplated it, and never did anything about it, until now. Back then, because I used to go to boards and talk to a lot of people, I got to know a few of them a bit, and as it turns out, nearly every one of them had some musical ability. When I published the collage above, I received a file composed by a blog reader, inspired by it… so the idea of songs inspired by size differences is not at all outlandish, and it’s certainly something a few of us have thought about, and done more than just think about.

So… it’s high time we have us a music contest: bit.ly/SizeTunes17

I’m just going to sit here quietly, and while I wait for songs you write about giantesses, or tiny men, or gigantic/tiny feet, or micro-robots, or foxes the size of the solar system, to come my way, I’ll mess around with Garage Band, and see what I can come up with. I can sing my own songs, but when the time comes, I might get someone at fiverr® to do my singing for me. Everyone in my family knows my voice. Or I could just use Audacity to alter my pitch… oh this cracks me up!

The Boost Mobile giantess commercial

…does not exist. I wish it did. Tonight I was out where there was a TV, and when this commercial came on, for a tiniest moment I felt a flutter of hope in my heart that the large figure on the floor of a grocery store would be a giant woman. Instead a sad giant took her rightful place. Oh, well. 🙂

I bemoan these misguided commercials in good cheer. I’ve known since the beginning of my exploration of media as a source of material to enjoy, that it would offer very little in the way of a perfect scenario. And let’s be frank, a flawless commercialization of just about any product would involve devastatingly handsome shrunken men doing things that don’t render them ridiculous.

While watching the commercial I also though that any position in the service industry is what I’ve always fantasized about when I try to picture what my job would be if I was at least a mini giantess. But I think my favorite occupation is still that of a professional Building Washer, or a Tree Puller. I’d do such a good job!