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Death comes for us all.

Keep her as your friend.

 Read "La Santisima"

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Miserere is now available at Audible.

My short story "Naked the Night Sings" is only one of the many fine stories in the urban fantasy anthology Manifesto: UF, edited by Tim Marquitz and Tyson Mauermann, Angelic Knight Press, 2013.


"Filled with show me now and tell me later prose, [Miserere] was one of the finest debuts of 2011 and remains a novel that I remember details from nearly three years later." Justin Landon, Tor.com

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« Gender Bending Entry #2 The Ballad of Sophie Nu | Main | Gender bending along with a contest »

Gender Bending Entry #1 by Jamie Sears

Due to large amounts of spam, I have to moderate all comments. Don't panic if you don't see your comment show up immediately. I'll release them as soon as I can and they will show up in batches.

Please don't break my website.

Here we go ... remember the rules: comment on whether you believe the author of this excerpt is male or female.

Bearna by Jamie Sears

Bearna waited outside the Norki's tent, knees in the dirt, back straight. The faint smell of marking-paint drifted towards him from the other side of the flap, and the after-taste of clan magic lay heavy and sharp in the back of his throat. Thoma was sitting by the spirit-fire inside, discovering his calling. When the Norki was finished with Thoma, it would be Bearna's turn. Bearna was the last; five friends had gone in before him.

Bearna had looked forward to this day for two years. Two years ago he'd become a man in the eyes of his People, and the Norki had begun watching him for the signs. He might emerge from that tent a healer, a farmer, maybe even a soldier. Only Norki knew what was to come. Bearna had done his best to do a bit of everything, but he knew what he liked best; he liked to make things. He made his Na's bracelet so it wouldn't fall off anymore. He made a better grinding stone, tied to a stick, so the women's arms didn't get so tired. Bearna couldn't guess what calling the Norki would choose for him. There was no such calling as "maker."

A pebble dug into Bearna's kneecap. He didn't dare shift. His Na and Da watched from under the western stone-tree. This day was the culmination of all their efforts with him, their proudest day, as long as Bearna brought them no shame. Bearna knew that his Da wanted him to be a fisherman, like himself. Being a fisherman would not be so bad. Bearna liked the cool feel of the water against his legs, the achievement of pulling in a net full of fish. But if he were marked as a fisherman, he would create some better tools.

The tent flap moved and Thoma walked out into the clearing. His narrow face showed the marks of a soldier. Bearna smiled; that was what Thoma had wanted. Thoma never stopped talking about the others downriver, how they had cheated during their last raid. Thoma longed to sneak up on the others the same way, take their nut stores and smash their cooking pots. And if there was fighting, well, so much the better. Thomas smiled at Bearna and moved to the side where his parents waited.

Bearna swallowed and stood. He walked toward the Norki's tent with even steps. Once marked, his future would be set. Suddenly he missed the last two years and their freedom and possibility. His stomach twisted inside him, but his feet were sure. He moved aside the flap painted with purple birds and brown toads. Inside, smoke rose lazily from a small fire. The Norki sat cross-legged, rocking back and forth, his head thrown back so far that his white hair brushed the dirt. He was speaking to the spirits; Bearna must not interrupt. He took his seat with as little noise as possible.

Enough time passed for a song, and yet the Norki continued to rock. Bearna wondered what the spirits said and how they said it. Bearna could only see what was there in front of him and hear what was plain to hear, though he'd seen signs of spirit-talk in Thoma. Thoma could tell when a storm was coming and where the snakes were in the jungle, but he was better with his spear. Bearna smiled again, remembering Thoma's soldier marks and his joyous face.

So much time passed that Bearna began to think of climbing the northern stone-tree and looking over tops of the trees. He thought of the clouds, and how they drifted across the mountain tops so far away. He wondered if there were truly a lake on the other side too big to cross. In truth he believed no lake too big to cross. The problem clearly lay with the water-crafts. People needed better rafts. If a raft could cut through the water as a spear cuts through the air, it would go faster.

The Norki stopped moving and stared into the fire, drawing Bearna away from his makings. Surely the Norki could see in him some possibility. Why had it taken so long?

At last the Norki shifted and looked up at Bearna. His eyes, light as gold, shone in the firelight. He raised one bony finger, still colored with red paint, and pointed. "No marks," he said.

Bearna sat and listened to the spirit-crackle between them. He didn't understand what the Norki had said.

"No marks," the Norki repeated, lowering his hand.

"I must have a calling," Bearna said, feeling childish for pointing out something so obvious.

"No calling," said the Norki. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he spoke, as if it made him sad.

"Then what shall I do?" Bearna felt the panic rising now, chilling his stomach and drawing tight around his throat. "What shall I tell my Na and Da?"

"That is for you to decide. I have spoken."

"I can't go back outside." Bearna's fingers dug into the skin of his legs. "Not without marks."

The Norki sighed now and lifted a clay pipe from a bed of leaves. "Share with me first, then." He lit his pipe with a straw. Earth-flavored smoke puffed around his mouth. As Bearna accepted the pipe he tried not to let his hands shake. This was simply a nightmare, a bad imagining. When he drew that harsh smoke into his lungs, he would wake on his hammock in his family’s tent.

He coughed. The acrid weed tickled Bearna's mind and buzzed in his ears, but still he sat inside the Norki's tent. Still he had no marks. He puffed on the pipe a second time, for courage. He remembered once, many years ago, a young man had left the tent with no marks. Eyes glassy, he'd stumbled directly into the jungle, never to be seen again. Bearna had been very young at the time, and whenever he had thought of it, he reckoned the young man had done something terrible and deserved his naked face.

"It is time," said the Norki. "Go to the place that has called you."


"You know where."

Bearna stood on shaky legs. He didn't want to shame himself by asking a second time, or worse, by begging for some marks to display. He thought of his friends and envied every one. They were proud members of the clan now, with jobs to do. Bearna moved toward the flap, his throat too tight to swallow. He pushed it aside and stepped out into the sunshine.

He heard someone gasp. As he took another step, he heard a whisper and running feet. He didn't look, instead turning toward his parents. They stood as they had before, under the stone-tree, their eyes now wide with alarm. Na's smooth golden hand covered her mouth. Da reached out and gathered Na close to him, speaking to her in a low voice. Na shook her head no, but Da kept talking, looking at Bearna's approach out of the corner of his eye. A tear slid down Na's cheek, but at last she nodded.

Bearna stopped in the shadow of the gray stone and breathed a sigh of relief. They would be able to tell him what to do. They would tell him where to go, and when he could come home again. But as he came to a stop, Da and Na turned their backs to him, facing the tree. Though Na's shoulders shook with sobs, they did not acknowledge him. He was not clan. Bearna felt like a wood-tree that had been eaten inside-out by ants, except for his heart. His heart was still there, heavy and wounded, filling up the empty space.

A rock hit Bearna's shoulder. He turned, not raising a hand to protect himself. He no longer cared about that, but he was curious who had hurt him.

Thoma stood ten paces away, another rock waiting in his hand. "Leave now, animal," he said. His dark eyes showed no compassion, no memory of life before the marks. The red paint on his face had dried. Tomorrow it would flake away, but the color would remain forever.

"Thoma, it's me."

Thoma sneered. "Does the animal speak?"

Bearna shrugged and shuffled to his family’s tent. There was nothing to say, no way to prove his worth, now that the Norki had sent him out with a naked face. He went to his hammock and gathered his things, paltry as they were. A few stone tools for small makings. A smooth, flat rock he'd found useful in the past. His knife and slingshot. Shells that he used to trade with the others, when there was no fighting. He wrapped it all up inside of a skin, grabbed his spear, and left.

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Reader Comments (231)

December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterBrandy Thomas
Hmmm.... I'm going with my gut reaction with female.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterJael
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMac
But what happens next?

I would guess female for the author.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterHeim
I think the author is female but I can`t really tell why. I've been read male authors portraying fantastically well the emotional states of their characters. So that`s not the motive. I loved the story it reminds me of some of Ursula K Le Guin's works.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterAvner
Male... The word maker mad me think of it... Also seems like the character is set up for man vs wild type adventure
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered Commentermelij
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterStace
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterBeagle
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterHell_On_Wheelz
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterCastor
I'm going to go with female here.

The passage was confident and well paced and seemed to have a really strong idea of its main character. While that could apply to either gender, a female author is the gender more closely attuned to that description.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterCullen
My impression is that the author is female. It's quite good, regardless of the author's gender.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterThom Roe
From an emotional standpoint, this seems feminine.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterLC Wilson
I'd go with female author, although this really is a case of misty impressions and no firm conviction whatsoever.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered Commentertetrix
I believe the author is female. Can't explain why, just feels that way to me.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterLynn
I think it's female.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterKaren D.
My guess would be female, but that's a complete guess and I'm not sure why that's my inclination. I really can't tell.

Great story, though!
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterKarmin
My instinct says that this was written by a female.
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterAmal Singh
Female..........just my gut feeling but it was the name selection that tipped me towards it being a female
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered Commentertayyab
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterasael
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterCraig
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered Commentertmo
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterGirish
I would guess female, based on the genre. And whenI say guess, I mean guess...
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterd
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterGrayGhost
December 21, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterKevin B.
Feels female, but I'm not sure why.
December 22, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterChristy
I'd say male, but it could have gone either way.
December 22, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterDeborah Blake
I'm going to guess female.
December 22, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterbluejayfic
December 22, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMargaret
December 22, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterJana
Female. Because for no reason that I can discern.
December 23, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterolaf78
December 23, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterKriti
December 23, 2012 | Unregistered Commenterjs80
December 23, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterO'Malley
December 23, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterZeo
December 24, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterAndrea
I would guess female.
December 24, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterCarol
From the very first few lines, female. Couldn't say why. The coming-of-age type set up just makes me think female.
December 25, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterBones
First off, I would read this. Second, it's tough. Most of it seems like it could be either. I can't really tell. I thought the dialogue sounded a little more like a male writer but a couple things made me think female so I'll bow to my husband's opinion. He said it's too detailed for a male when I was leaning that way. He says female so I vote female.
December 25, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterSarah
December 25, 2012 | Unregistered Commentermugene
I'll go with male author on this one.
December 26, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterIlija Rubil
Male. This one is hard. It's mostly a guess - whoever it was did a great job with the emotions.
December 26, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterGabe
I think it is a woman writer.
December 26, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterSabrina Vourvoulias
December 27, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterJoe Iriarte
December 27, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMiss Matched
December 27, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterLyshara
December 27, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterMichael W.
This is really difficult. I would guess female - with no explanation at all as to why!
Lynn :D
December 28, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterLynn
December 28, 2012 | Unregistered CommenterJenni
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