For one thing, this makes Alanna insanely powerful. In In the Hand of The Goddess, she breaks open Roger’s magically locked door (presumably designed by Roger himself– an immensely strong and well-trained sorcerer) by shoving her own magic into it until it MELTS. This builds an Alanna who decided magical theory was useless at age 12 because she has an immense access to magical potential energy, and who never learns the basic life-preserving models of magic usage that are taught in intro-level classes. She doesn’t have an interest in learning more sophisticated forms of magic, except in healing, which she cared about enough to learn non-magically. So when she heals, she uses magic as a guide or a supplement, rather than depending on it and then draining herself.  Since she isn’t attempting complex magic, most of the time the limitations of drawing directly from her own life force doesn’t impact her that much. The things she does magically all have much more efficient alternatives, but they require an understanding of magical theory and ability to store energy that Alanna never learned! If she wants to do larger spells, she just keeps feeding energy into it until it breaks or she does. 

refseek.com

www.worldcat.org/

link.springer.com

http://bioline.org.br/

repec.org

science.gov

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Artist : 一春虫虫人 (weibo / twitter)

when i said "a sword" i was speaking metaphorically. i mean, literally as well, swords are cool as hell. but metaphorically: agency and the power to do something about their situation and the situation of the world.

a bunch of people have said that children who do not have supportive parents love this kind of thing, which is very true and part of a thing i was thinking of but is not in the post - often when you feel alone, reading about someone who is alone but in a much more dramatic way, with, again, the power to do something about it, is much more comforting than reading about someone who is kept safe and given the "right" supports. the dragon takes on the face of the fifth grade bully easily and naturally.

when i said "where are their parents" and "child soldiers" i was generalizing these kind of complaints. "why didn't any adult step in"/ "these are bad pedagogical techniques" are some of the ones i see a bunch. and the answer is the same. they didn't step in or teach in a way that would be good in real life because it is the opposite of empowering for a child to hear "when you're older" in fiction as well as in real life.

someone reblogged this post with tags about how their younger self would have been furious if the events of one of those "villain gets mad at seer for sending children to fight them" posts had played out in real life, and that's about right - one of the central things about being a child is not being taken seriously. those posts are by adults who have forgotten that, because being wrapped in a blanket and told to sit this one out means that you are not being taken seriously - as a threat; as an enemy; as a hero; as a person.

if your "counterexample" is not directed towards people under 20, you're misreading the post. The new crop of adult fantasy books really examining the post-traumatic stress of child heroes is very much not for me, but if people like it, that's fine. but that's very different from stuff focused on kids with heroes who are kid-aged. "wow, the hero of this book is too young, it's kind of funny that no one else can do anything/this Great Mage War is between a 12 year old and a 10 year old/whatever" is maybe a funny joke but it is not any sort of real or, more importantly, interesting criticism of the work.

kids' literature is a great way of exposing kids to the thrill of danger while keeping them absolutely safe.

kids' literature where the adults are a problem is a great way of teaching kids that authority is not inherently trustworthy.

“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.

“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”

“i know.”

x

“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”

her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.

“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.

“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.

x

“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”

“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”

she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.

x

“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.

“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”

she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.

“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”

x

her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”

the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.

“why not?” the mermaid asks.

“he’ll win,” the first mate says.

the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.

x

the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.

“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”

x

the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.

“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”

they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.

she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.

the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.

x

she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.

x

“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.

she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.

“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”

the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time.

“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.

“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.

“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”

“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”

“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”

“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”

x

the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.

“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.

the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.

“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”

“and now?”

“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817

i think social media not only has eroded ideas of privacy (”if you have nothing to hide why do you care?”), but in a much more harmful way it promotes the notion that there should be no difference between public thoughts and private behaviour. But this is totally bogus because people behave differently according to different situations, and this isn’t being “fake”, it’s just what navigating social situations in a proficient manner is like. 

social media has irrevocably changed our perception of public/private lives, and with it, our perception of boundaries both personal and public. i use social media minimally, primarily as a content consumer, not as a content creator, but even so, i have become increasingly aware of the inescapable and uncontrollable nature of it. in a sea of billions i am no one, and yet, i am not unseen.

our real life communities range from a few dozens to a few hundreds, the people we see day to day in the course of work, school, social gatherings, and family events. i am known to these people. i am seen. and with social media, i am shared.

aspects of my life that would have struggled to appear in a rumor mill a few decades ago are now readily available for consumption on the socials of my family, friends, and community. a photo here. a video there. a text post. a tag.

we live in a world where our every waking moment could be broadcast to an audience at anytime without our knowledge, intentionally or accidentally.

an ex angling for an incriminating shot. a stranger filming a tiktok who happens to catch you doing dumb/funny/incriminating shit. an unflattering photo at your cousin’s wedding. a school project made for a grade and passed around the community facebook for laughs.

nothing is sacred. nothing is private.

we are, increasingly, a society of voyeurs.

the good news, is that we don’t have to be. we cannot control what the people around us do, but we can unplug from the vicious cycle.

we don’t have to share content containing others without their consent.

we can choose to advocate for our right not to be shared without our consent.

we can set boundaries about what we are and are not comfortable sharing with the public.

we can cut people out of our lives who refuse to respect our boundaries. you are not a content mine. you are a person and you deserve privacy and respect.

demand that respect for yourself, and advocate for that respect to be given to others.

Guess who’s been watching Atlantis, the lost empire….and bc I wish she got a better ending I decided to give Helga an alternative universe design where she survives.

Also here’s a fanfic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352587/chapters/40828961

climate change represents world-altering tragedy if unchecked, but not even in the worst-case scenario does it mean “literally everyone dies”

this, this, this, this, this, this, and like, 700 other sources will tell you that most of the effects of climate change will be reversible even if we pass the ‘threshold’ of a 1.5 degrees Celsius increase in global temperature

BUT. Even if the worst happens, it will be important to be doing things other than wallowing in misery???

I’m not trying to be callous but for people living today it’s wildly unlikely for the results to be “literally immediate death.”

People will get displaced from their homes by rising sea levels. We have like, years, probably decades, before that happens. It seems so fucked up to decide that we should do nothing, because we’ve already decided they’re going to die anyway????

If a bunch of us are going to die, why not die trying to help each other? Why not try to make sure fewer people die? Why not do something that might reduce someone’s suffering or give them food or clean water or a place to sleep?

And there’s still hope! Did you know the hole in the ozone layer is closing? It was actually caused by one specific chemical that’s been banned. A lot of endangered wildlife populations are growing because of so many efforts to protect them. Many mining companies are being prevented from mining in our remaining clean waters and forests. We have all the technology we need to reverse this crisis, it’s just a matter of implementing it.

In the 1980’s, the area was absolutely devastated by copper mining, to the point that the land had a “Martian” appearance. It was utterly devoid of vegetation and wildlife. No trees, no grass, no frogs, nothing.

I own a historical fiction book, A Bird on Water Street, about how the area was restored. The astonishing thing about this place is that people were able to fix the damage.

In a lot of ways in the 80’s and 90’s, many species and environments were successfully saved from the brink of disaster.

Does anyone remember DDT? As the above poster said above, CFC’s contributing to the ozone hole? Do y'all remember how saturated the 1970’s were with lead and asbestos and all sorts of toxic shit? Getting specific chemicals banned or working to save specific species DOES HELP.

I’m begging everyone to research conservation projects going on near them, like, in or near their hometown. The state of Kentucky very successfully reintroduced elk to the mountains after they went extinct there. There are examples like this everywhere.

Things look bad and they’re scary but they would be a lot worse if the people before us hadn’t worked their asses off trying to preserve the world for us. People are out there working hard to save the world right now.