I Wish I Could Read Every Book In The World…

I know this triptych has nothing to do with reading, but don’t they look bookish???

It’s Monday. A book review should be here, but it’s not, and I wanted to take some time to pour out some liquor (well, seltzer water since I don’t drink) for all the books that I WISH I could read. For reasons that are both time related – I work full time  – and money related – books and iTunes DECIMATE my budget before I can buy groceries, I cannot possibly get my hands on all the books that I lust after. Seriously, I have to avoid the Barnes and Noble when I go to the mall because I tremble with desire for those paper spines *bites fist*. So here it goes, a list of a few of the books I wish I could next to in the near future:

  • The Dead Do Not Improve, by Jay Caspian Kang. First of all, this dude’s middle name is straight out of the Narnia series. Second of all, he writes for one of my favorite websites. And according to GoodReads, “this glorious debut stars hippie detectives, a singular city, and an MFA student on the run.” I’m sold.
  • Telegraph Avenue, by Michael Chabon. It’s about race and relationships, written by a white dude. I’m curious to see how he pulls it off (you can find an excerpt of the book here). He also wrote ‘The Mysteries of Pittsburgh,’ and I lived in the 412 for 3 years, so there’s that too. Circle of Life. This book comes out Sept. 11.
  • NW, by Zadie Smith. This book doesn’t come out until Sept. 4, but I am soooo ready for it. Like yesterday. Zadie Smith looks like Sade and writes like someone outta this world. She is…funny and smart and human, and I find her voice is refreshing in a fiction landscape that is either too high brow (read: boring) or too gutta-gutta (I can get down with that periodically, but not all the time).

The books that have been languishing on my bookshelf include Mrs. Obama’s American Grown: The Story of the White House Kitchen Garden  and Gardens Across America and David Foster Wallace’s The Pale King. Seriously, I wish I had John Travolta’s “Phenomenon” powers so I could read every book in the world.

Good people, what books do you wish you had time to read? Are there any books chillin’ on your bookshelf in a b-boy stance that you need to get to?

~Terryn

Oh Hampton, A Thought

The  recent dust up about Hampton’s b-school ban on cornrows and dreadlocks for men is surprising to most people, with the exception of people who actually went to Hampton. Why? Because Hampton is NOTORIOUSLY uptight; this is the land of curfews and dress codes for people old enough to vote and fight in the Army. And the story isn’t really that new; my freshman year (2003) there were grumbles and complaints about the same rule. So why did this story get a second life?

I’m venturing to guess that some freshman complained. And the local news picked it up. But back in 2003, there was no Facebook or Twitter to amplify the ridiculousness of the story; the 24 hour news cycle was still in its infancy. Social media and the desire to point and gawk at odd news from the farthest reaches of the globe have taken Hampton’s patent conservatism worldwide. Now, outlets like Gawker and Black Enterprise and HuffPo are weighing in on the issue, which isn’t a bad thing, but for a school so wrapped up in “image” I’m sure the recent press is not the type of publicity the administration wanted.

I found myself punching at the air in frustration when I read of my alma mater’s foolishness. Why? Because as I sat at my desk, at my corporate job, in one of the most corporate cities in the world (Washington, DC), with my dreadlocks brushing past my shoulders, I directly contradicted the point of the ban. More importantly, I wanted more for my school. I wanted it to grow past the idea that “image” trumps “talent and hard work.” I wanted the administrators to recognize that to be a leader, a thinker, a creator, what’s inside of your head matters more than what grows from it (but to have too many free thinkers and rabblerousers on a college campus is a scary thought). And I wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, the school had changed since I left in 2007. It’s too bad that I had to go to a large, private PWI for grad school to learn that being independent and yourself, however that is expressed, is ok.

In Mychal Denzel Smith’s Root essay he notes that the lessons he learned at Hampton from trying to push back at the HU administration were valuable. I agree. For all the hooping, hollering and headaches I caused at my Home by the Sea, I got a lot of in return: bonds with friends that I will carry for the rest of my life, the ability to articulate my thoughts and ideas to people in power, even when they disagree or tell me no, and a true understanding of the term “there is a time and place for everything.”  Yes, Hampton is a private school, and yes, it can dictate the rules as it sees fit. But it’s not 1953, or hell, even 2003, and if the school wants to attract and retain new students or keep the press out of its hair, it should consider focusing on what really matters – academics.

http://www.schoolsinreview.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/hampton-university.jpg

Kendrick Lamar Fiction Series #2 – Alien Girl

Story #2 in my Kendrick Lamar-inspired Fiction Series. The first installment can be found here. Also, the experiment I used in the story (Briggs-Rauscher reaction) was found here, and more information can be found about it here and here. Let me know what you think in the comments section.

The materials were aligned neatly on the blacktop desk, Solutions A, B, and C carefully measured and ready, beakers, timer, notebook and pen. The rest of the class was already starting their experiments. Jana adjusted her glasses over her face and watched her lab mate watch her. “Are you going to suit up?” she asked. “Oh, yeah,” Chris responded. He sat up and put on his goggles.

“Did you read at all for today’s experiment?” she asked. Her eyes were fascinating even from behind the suction-cup eyewear that trapped them. He felt like she was boring holes into his insides, which wasn’t really a bad thing when he thought about it. Waves of hair brushed up against the plastic band of her goggles. He remembered it being much longer the year before, when he sat behind her in homeroom and fantasized about playing in it. Rumors whispered at lockers and in the cafeteria said that she cut it after some guys jumped her walking home from school.

“No.” Continue reading

Kendrick Lamar Fiction Series #1 – ADHD


First in my fiction series inspired by Kendrick Lamar’s body of work. For questions, comments and criticisms hit dopereads[at]gmail[dot]com.

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“I don’t need to go to that shit, because I’m just fine without it.”

Donna watched him intently as hung one long, sinewy arm from the metal rail and thoughtlessly chewed at the skin around his fingernails.

“It can’t hurt. Besides what else you got going on”

“I have things…” he said unconvincingly.

Chris sat down again, legs agape, and began to chew on the nail beds of his other hand. He nibbled and gnawed until the dark brown skin around his fingers was baby pink. Even as a child his hands gave away when he was anxious or distracted. Their mother had threatened to chop off his fingers with a butcher’s knife when he was five for his absentminded habit. “You won’t have nothing else to bite off of,” she told him. But his hard-headedness was evident even then. He replied “I’ll just chew on what’s left.”

Donna swayed as the bus rocked over the rough patches of H st. The city was re-paving the stretch of road that separated the money in Northwest from the struggle in Northeast. Little cafes had already started to crop up near where people who worked downtown were no longer afraid to jog in the neighborhood at night.

“Look Chris, I’ll make you a deal. I will pay you to keep going to your sessions, like every week like you have been,” Donna said. It was her last resort. “And if you can’t do that, then I’ll pay you just to take your medicine again.”

His eyes glimmered.  “For real?”

“Yeah.”

He pondered, for a moment, the thought of free money, all for doing what he was supposed to do anyway.  But the warmth of his sister’s offer held unspoken attachments. And he knew that money could be better used for other things.

“But,” she added, “it means you have to go, today, to your class. And show me all the work you did when you get home. And be home by…”

Chris got up again. His 6’’0 frame took up their section of the bus. His voice was cool as water.

“Nah, I’m good”

“Fine.” Donna rolled her eyes and looked away. “Just know you can’t keep operating like this.”
Her soft jaw hardened into an angular bit of stone.

“I’ll go. Next time.”

Chris pulled the dingy yellow chord and the bus came to a halt at Benning Road.  He pushed his way to the front to meet G waiting at the stop.

Donna watched her brother and his best friend head towards the carryout.  Such a large gulf had never existed between her and her younger brother. She turned in the opposite direction and walked home. I wish he would just focus, she thought. Maybe he needs an intervention. Since their mother’s cancer diagnosis he had been erratic, stopped going to class, stopped taking his medicine, stopped caring. Medical bills became the silent noose that slipped itself snugly over the family, threatening to choke out their lives. She struggled to go to school and take care of their mother and earn extra money. Now “keeping Chris out of trouble” was added to the list.

She sensed a creeping darkness out of the corner of her eye before she realized it was a black SUV, crawling beside her on the street. Her heart quickened.

“Can I get some fries wit that shake, mmm!” he yelled from the driver’s seat. He laughed.

Donna kept walking and tried to ignore the catcall.

“Dee, girl stop playin’!”

She exhaled loudly and turned around. Her annoyance dissolved into mild amusement when she realized it was her high school boyfriend Bernard and his right hand man, Miguel.

“Really, though, Bernard?” She face fought back a smirk.

Bernard pulled over. He got out of the car and embraced her in a hug. Almost out of habit she rested her head in the crook of his neck. He smelled clean, like soap and fresh laundry. Despite his dubious career path and the years that separated the end of their relationship warmth of their bond lay just beneath the surface.

“How you doing? I heard about your moms.”

Donna pulled away. “I’m – we’re, we’re good. Just holding on the best we can.”

“Oh, ok cool,” he replied.

“What about you? What are you doing around here?”

“Well, I was looking for you,” he grinned sheepishly. “Actually I need to talk to you about your brother.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He came through the other day. He was talking about getting down with my crew.”

Donna felt herself tighten. She spoke in a dangerously low tone.

“Absolutely not.”

“Look, I told him no. I just wanted to let you know. I don’t even think he remembered who I was, to be honest. I haven’t seen him since he was bout yay high,” he recollected.

“Thanks.” She turned to continue her walk home. Confronting the possibility that her only brother could follow in the footsteps of her first love turned her stomach.

“You need a ride or something?”

“No,” she answered curtly. Continue reading

DopeReads Updates + Fiction Series Announcement

Hey party people!

Hope you had a wonderful weekend, lots of fun stuff keeping me busy over this way. This weekend I went to the Trillectro Music Festival and it was EPIC, still coming down from the greatness that it encompassed. Check out the updates and a very special announcement in the SoundCloud clip below. Let me know how you are doing in the comments section!

Peace,

T.

Awkward Black Girl Fan Fiction, #01

“Andrew, can you come to my office please? I need help sorting out this marketing spreadsheet”

“Sure Nina, be right there.”

He hung up the phone. Nina’s usually strident voice held a slight tremor, but pushed the inkling aside and walked toward her office down the puke colored hallway. Someone had burnt popcorn in the office again because the smell of singed kernels and butter hung in the air like room spray. The dread of possibly having to see J so early in the workday yanked tightly at the corners of his stomach. She’s a non-fucking factor, he thought. Be cool.  It had been hard in the beginning, when J treated him like the king of ultimate thirst. Now he just pretended that she didn’t even exist.

A came to the door of Nina and J’s shared office and considered turning back around, but he knew that he needed to get the meeting over with. He knocked a few times on the door, and then peeked his head in. To his relief J wasn’t there.
“Nina?” he asked.

“Come on in,” she said as she unsuccessfully dabbed at the wetness around her eyes.

“Are you sure? I can come back later,” he said.

“No no, I need this damn macro to work in my spreadsheet, and I thought maybe you could lend me a hand.”

“Ok, let me take a look.”

A came into the office and took a seat next to Nina. She explained that she had tried getting the macro to run but it wouldn’t follow the commands she entered.

“Are you sure that’s all that’s going on,” A asked. For some reason Excel didn’t seem like a a good enough reason to cry.

“Well,” Nina replied, “To be honest, I just…feel really stupid.” She looked at him apologetically. “Sorry if this is too personal, but…I can’t believe Fred dissed me for my office mate.”  She paused to look up at the ceiling to keep the tears from streaming down her face. “And I feel dumb for throwing myself at him and he wasn’t even thinking of me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled. A hesitantly put his hand on her knee, unsure if it was the appropriate thing to do in the office.

“Look, everyone’s been there before,” he assured her. “I know exactly how you feel. Trust me, whoever gets you is a lucky man.” An earnest look crossed his face.  “Now it’s time for me to be honest. I think you’re sexy as hell. And if someone can’t see that, then it’s their loss.”

“Thank you,” Nina sniffed, “I needed that.”

She halfway smiled, and locked eyes with A. The glow of the computer illuminated the flecks of green in his amber eyes, and she couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his hand slowly caressing the inside of her thigh.

***

Let me know what you think in the comments…how would you feel if Nina and A got together??? Who do you think will end up hooking up? Most importantly, are you ready for next week’s episode?!