FY Lesbian Literature!

For literature about anyone who doesn't identify as a man and is romantically and/or sexually attracted to others who don't identify as men (not necessarily exclusively). Also, for pictures of said people with books.

This definition includes lesbians, but also bisexual or pansexual women and genderqueer people.

This is a trans*-, genderqueer-, asexual-, intersex-, bisexual-, pansexual-, and queer-friendly tumblr, or at least tries to be (feel free to tell me off if it isn't).

I also run the lesbian book blog The Lesbrary and my personal tumblr is danikathelesbrarian.

Please submit anything that's included in this definition. If not, expect a lot of Willow & Tara from Buffy and Xena & Gabrielle with literature spam.
Jan 27 '12
[image description: a scan of page from Jeanette Winterson’s autobiography, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? It says, 1 The Wrong Crib When my mother was angry with me, which was often, she said, ‘The Devil led us to the wrong crib.’ The image of Satan taking time off from the Cold War and McCarthyism to visit Manchester in 1960—purpose of visit to deceive Mrs Winterson—has a flamboyant theatricality to it. She was a flamboyant depressive; a woman who kept a revolver in the dust drawer, and the bullets in a tin of Pledge. A woman who stayed up all night baking cakes to avoid sleeping in the same bed as my father. A woman with a prolapse, a thyroid condition, an enlarged heart, an ulcerated leg that never healed, and two sets of false teeth—matt for everyday, and a pearlised set of ‘best’. I do not know why she didn’t/couldn’t have children. I know that she adopted me because she wanted a friend (she had none), and because I was like a flare sent out into the world—a way of saying that she was here—a kind of X Marks the Spot. End description.] wordsarelikebutter: Why be Happy When You Could be Normal? By Jeanette Winterson

[image description: a scan of page from Jeanette Winterson’s autobiography, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? It says,

1

The Wrong Crib

When my mother was angry with me, which was often, she said, ‘The Devil led us to the wrong crib.’

The image of Satan taking time off from the Cold War and McCarthyism to visit Manchester in 1960—purpose of visit to deceive Mrs Winterson—has a flamboyant theatricality to it. She was a flamboyant depressive; a woman who kept a revolver in the dust drawer, and the bullets in a tin of Pledge. A woman who stayed up all night baking cakes to avoid sleeping in the same bed as my father. A woman with a prolapse, a thyroid condition, an enlarged heart, an ulcerated leg that never healed, and two sets of false teeth—matt for everyday, and a pearlised set of ‘best’.

I do not know why she didn’t/couldn’t have children. I know that she adopted me because she wanted a friend (she had none), and because I was like a flare sent out into the world—a way of saying that she was here—a kind of X Marks the Spot.

End description.]

wordsarelikebutter:

Why be Happy When You Could be Normal?

By Jeanette Winterson


8 notes (via wordsarelikebutter)

  1. thatqueerchick reblogged this from fuckyeahlesbianliterature and added:
    I waaaaaaaaannnt this book.
  2. fuckyeahlesbianliterature reblogged this from wordsarelikebutter and added:
    [image description: a scan of page from Jeanette Winterson’s autobiography,...It says, 1...
  3. wordsarelikebutter posted this