Colin D. Vaughn has a new queer multi-racial sci fi book out: “Expression: Telepaths Rising.” And there’s a giveaway!
It’s the year 2113. Telepaths are real. They’re exalted. Feared. Hunters. Hunted. Kingmakers and slaves. With his expression, Ken is catapulted into the ranks of a tiny elite. With immense telepathic potential, he will have to learn how to use his powers and whom to trust. And quickly. Because there are enemies, both within and without, and they’re not going to wait.
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Your book, “Expression,” is science-fiction. Is it also a romance?
The book definitely has strong romantic elements, but it’s not a romance in the sense that the core of the story revolves around a loving relationship. As I was writing, this was something I went back and forth on, since I love romances and read several a year. But, ultimately, I kept encountering two issues.
First, the arc of the story that I wanted to tell in this first book did not tidily tie up the romantic storyline with a nice Happily Ever After. At best, I would have had to shoehorn in a nice Happily For Now. But I found myself not even wanting that since it conflicted with issue number two – I wanted to depict a little more complexity and a little more mess in my characters’ relationships.
You wanted messier characters?
Not messy in the “hot mess” sense, but in the young sense. My protagonist, Kenneth, and many of my core characters are young adults – basically, just embarking on college. And so I wanted to depict those types of relationships. Young people feel things so intensely. They might be feeling things for the first time. I’m 40 but I can still remember the first time I loved a boy and he loved me back. It was a heady, overwhelming, completely transportive experience. It’s like reading “Romeo and Juliet” in school and not really getting it. Then you fall in love and experience your first adversity, then the light bulb goes off – and you’re like, “oooooh, I totally get it now.”
All that said, I’m not with him now, and I doubt that most of us are currently with our first sweethearts. So I wanted to sincerely capture the intense emotions as well as the potential impermanence. Who knows? Maybe my series will come to encompass a central romantic relationship. But the boy Kenneth rides off into the sunset with might not be the one he loves in the first book. And that’s to not even begin touching on the relationship fluidity common in LGBT relationships.
Fluid in what sense?
Well, in my experience, many LGBT friendships have a past or intermittent sexual aspect to them. The hook-up that turned into a friendship. The ex-lovers who are still friends. The friends with benefits. The friends who are platonic except for that one time when the stars aligned or they were both bored or horny or what have you. To make a Star Trek joke, it often times can feel like Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. So I wanted to depict that.
Indeed, if anything, I’ve added to it for characters of all sexual persuasions in my book because I’ve layered on the immense intimacy of telepathy. While I’m trying to create telepathic communities that are culturally diverse, in my main one physical intimacy is but an afterthought when compared to the mental connections.
OK, physical intimacy – let’s talk about sex, baby. How heated does your book get?
My aim was sensual. I didn’t want a story where all the sex and physical intimacy occurred off-page, but I also didn’t want anything too graphic. Basically, you should have a good sense of what they’re doing, but there won’t be much “X inserted into Y” type specificity. I most hope that the joy of sex – all six senses of it – comes across.
Colin is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
Tarrington turned to me: “Kenneth, pursuant to the Telepath Registration Act, as a suspected telepath you are required to undergo psychic assessment. You may not decline, delay or obstruct this hearing in any way. You may, however, have the presence of counsel at this proceeding. If you do not have one available to attend within 24 hours, one will be provided to you by the Ministry. Please touch the datapad and state whether you request or waive counsel.”
All of this was rather pro forma – I was surrounded by my family and it wasn’t as if a lawyer could stop or save me from this process. Not that I wanted it to stop. I touched the pad. “I waive counsel.”
The datapad chirped: “Identity confirmed. Waiver of counsel acknowledged.”
Tarrington turned to my parents. “Please touch the datapad to confirm that you have no objection to this proceeding, its recordation, or your son’s waiver of counsel.”
My parents touched the pad and it chirped: “Identities confirmed. Acknowledgements confirmed.”
Tarrington smiled, “Well, now that all that fussy business is complete. I will turn things over to Mr. Vargas.”
Vargas smiled at me, and then, clear as a bell in my head, I heard him sing a jaunty tune: I am the very model of a modern major general. I am the very model of a modern major general.
I laughed and asked him, “So you’re a general, eh?”
He smiled: No, more like a lowly foot soldier, little brother. Ask me a question. In your head – look into my eyes and say the words of your question one at a time. Remember, don’t speak.
I looked him straight in the eyes and thought: Where. Are. You. From?
Honduras. Suddenly I could see a wide stretch of forest, leading to deeply forested mountains, their tops veiled in low-lying clouds. Though I knew I was still crouched on the floor of our living room, I cool also feel moist spongy earth under my feet, a cool breeze across my cheek. This is my home. Well, actually, my hometown is the metropolis of Gracias a Dios, but the rainforests on the outskirts are what I think of as “home.”
For a moment, I almost felt like it was my home, too. I, who had only ever left Tennessee for our family’s annual trip to the Japan Territory, almost ached to return and hike those forests. Gracias a Dios. Thank you.
It wasn’t until Vargas smiled and said aloud: “My pleasure” that I realized that I had spoken to him mind-to-mind again, but in a natural, almost instinctual, way.
Was this what it meant to be a telepath? This incredible sharing, this intimacy? I felt as if Vargas – no, Mauricio– was some long-lost friend. Could he sense the same about me? I was just about to ask him for more when Tarrington clapped his hands once and said, “I take it that it was a success? He’s a true expressive?” I came to and looked around. My family was just staring at me. At me and Mauricio.
Mauricio nodded, then reached and touched the datapad: “Confirmed that subject’s telepathic gene has expressed, as verified through the receipt and transmission of audio, visual and tactile stimuli between subject and myself.”
Tarrington said: “Excellent! Now, Ken… I may call you ‘Ken,’ yes? . . . You understand that you will be more fully and properly assessed by the Psych Ministry at a later point?” I nodded. He then continued, “However, for myMinistry’s purposes an initial, somewhat rough assessment is necessary. Mr. Vargas will perform this. I am sorry for any discomfort.”
Mauricio then said aloud: “Ken, I will now force myself onto you” – at my sister’s gasp, he addressed everyone and continued – “in a very safe and controlled way, I assure you all. Though unpleasant, I will not harm Ken, I promise you.” Then turning to me: “Ken, what you must do is push me away. Pretend there’s a door that you’re trying to push closed. Or pretend there’s a pot on a heating unit bubbling over that you need to slam a lid onto. Or think of it however you think right – trust your instincts. OK, here goes.”
Then, before I could even begin to ponder what Mauricio was getting at, I saw his green light brighten and felt him touch me as he did before, but somehow both heavier and louder than before. Where before I felt like I was sharing with Mauricio, walking in his shoes, I now felt like he was walking on me. Instead of beautiful forests, I saw a man wielding a leather strap. The man – Father! – started hitting me over and over with the strap, shouting. It hurt! God, had this really happened to Mauricio? Or was this all part of the test? I couldn’t imagine my own gentle father or mother (however strict) ever acting so. But – ow! – the bastard kept hitting me! And I felt so angry, that he was hitting me, that he might possibly once have beaten my friend this way. I jumped up and yanked the strap from him. I then pushed him and lashed the strap across his face. He started to back away and I lunged after him hitting him again and again with the strap…”
But the more he read, the more he realized that he had his own tales he wanted to tell. And themes he wanted to explore – power and temptation, social progress, the fall of civilizations, ways to love, futurism, beloved community, and many more.
He very much hopes you enjoy his story!
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