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deathbecameher.bsky.social
Karen
@deathbecameher.bsky.social
37 followers 27 following 12 posts
I am the earthly manifestation of death, the end of all that has lived. But you can call me Karen 😘

#KarenDestroyerOfWorlds #amquerying

Run by my biographer @christianblackwellauthor.com.bsky.social

christianblackwellauthor.com libranimapress.com
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deathbecameher.bsky.social
Karen @deathbecameher.bsky.social · Jul 12
DId you feel that? The universe just... sighed.

Unleashed Winter2025 - Karen, Destroyer of Worlds

shorturl.at/kDNYm
Death, you see, could not exist without life—specifically, the end of life. The scientists would have called it the conservation of something, or the something constant. Since this was conceptual, and nothing to do with science, the philosophers got involved—cravatted, pipe-smoking types who would debate it endlessly instead of getting a real job. They did little more than talk about it, though. But no one was expecting them to. And that’s their secret. Death, however, was unconcerned with what it was. It was more than happy just being, for millennia of millennia, existing only to be the ultimate foil for life. The bags of proteins evolved legs, arms, aerobic respiration, and eventually, language. Not content merely to expire by running out of food, dying of old age, or killing each other, they began to tell one another stories of how mighty, eternal beings had created them from dust, ribs, or clay. The logical conclusion they drew? There had to be more than just death at the end of a life. From the fervent prayers and questions of these believers, the gods were born. They regarded death with suspicion, jealous of its reach, longevity, and supreme power. They begged, bullied, and bribed it to divulge its secrets. Yet it remained implacable, immovable, impervious to their imploring. Death just… was. Until, one high summer’s night in ancient Sumer, a gaggle of gullible idiots—the sum of whose fingers and toes far exceeded their collective IQ—succeeded where the gods had failed. Beyond all comprehension and expectation, they captured the essence of death in a human vessel, intent on bending it to their will. And, oh my gods, did she make them wish they hadn’t. Death had become Karen, Destroyer of Worlds. Cover of Karen, Destroyer of Worlds, by Christian Blackwell, featuring Death herself, standing in the molten crater that delivered her to us. The sun rises in the background.
deathbecameher.bsky.social
DId you feel that? The universe just... sighed.

Unleashed Winter2025 - Karen, Destroyer of Worlds

shorturl.at/kDNYm
Death, you see, could not exist without life—specifically, the end of life. The scientists would have called it the conservation of something, or the something constant. Since this was conceptual, and nothing to do with science, the philosophers got involved—cravatted, pipe-smoking types who would debate it endlessly instead of getting a real job. They did little more than talk about it, though. But no one was expecting them to. And that’s their secret. Death, however, was unconcerned with what it was. It was more than happy just being, for millennia of millennia, existing only to be the ultimate foil for life. The bags of proteins evolved legs, arms, aerobic respiration, and eventually, language. Not content merely to expire by running out of food, dying of old age, or killing each other, they began to tell one another stories of how mighty, eternal beings had created them from dust, ribs, or clay. The logical conclusion they drew? There had to be more than just death at the end of a life. From the fervent prayers and questions of these believers, the gods were born. They regarded death with suspicion, jealous of its reach, longevity, and supreme power. They begged, bullied, and bribed it to divulge its secrets. Yet it remained implacable, immovable, impervious to their imploring. Death just… was. Until, one high summer’s night in ancient Sumer, a gaggle of gullible idiots—the sum of whose fingers and toes far exceeded their collective IQ—succeeded where the gods had failed. Beyond all comprehension and expectation, they captured the essence of death in a human vessel, intent on bending it to their will. And, oh my gods, did she make them wish they hadn’t. Death had become Karen, Destroyer of Worlds. Cover of Karen, Destroyer of Worlds, by Christian Blackwell, featuring Death herself, standing in the molten crater that delivered her to us. The sun rises in the background.
July 12, 2025 at 8:21 AM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
Born 4,600 years ago, in a pillar of fire in the Sumerian desert, I am death incarnate... but I'm alright, really. Once you get to know me. And do I have a delicious story to tell 😘

Looking for your next witty, queer, mythic fantasy? You may just have found her.

#queerlit #mythicfantasy #specfic
Karen, Destroyer of Worlds Genre: Character-driven Mythical Fantasy She is the earthly manifestation of the concept of death, the unavoidable end of all that has lived. You can call her Karen, though. A lovely name, shamefully abused in our time. She came to exist in a pillar of fire when a handful of idiots tried to summon and bind death in the ancient Sumerian desert. Fun though it was at first, people wouldn't stay dead and the universe started to disappear up its own… reality fracture. Who could have predicted that messing with the concept of death would complicate things? Everyone but these ritualists, apparently. Karen must get herself banished back to the conceptual realm to avoid a disaster that could end the universe. A simple task for the avatar of the most powerful natural force in the universe. Right? It would have been, had she not fallen in love... Karen, Destroyer of Worlds, a long haired woman in silhouette stands in a molten sand pit, facing the sunrise.
June 14, 2025 at 10:15 AM
Reposted by Karen
victoriablackwell.bsky.social
The world: What the hell goes on in his head?

Me:

#writingcommunity #amwriting #authorslife #specficauthors

christianblackwellauthor.com/archive.html
Five images capturing the author's stories, with text overlaying the images, but behind the characters. A cup is central, foreground, with the words "Fuck Off, I'm Writing." on the side.
May 22, 2025 at 6:08 PM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
I'll just leave this here...

#amquerying #agentguide
February 12, 2025 at 1:44 AM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
Someone sign my biographer up, please. He's even bringing me down—and I'm literally death. 💀

#darkhumor #writingcommunity
victoriablackwell.bsky.social ⚧️ Victoria Blackwell 🏳️‍⚧️ @victoriablackwell.bsky.social · Jan 18
I don't know which was worse - rejection when I thought I wasn't good enough or rejection when I know I am. At least I bounce back quicker.., probably. I'll let you know 😁

#writingcommunity #amwriting #authorslife #amquerying
January 18, 2025 at 11:04 PM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
Death walking the earth? What a riot. Fun though it was, people wouldn't stay dead and the universe began to disappear up its own… reality fracture. If only I hadn't fallen in love... #P2Ppit #LGBT #Q #A #F

@vaudevillian.bsky.social
Me. Death. A.K.A Karen, tall, dark, mysterious and hot as all hell. My girl, Zida, the most beautiful woman on earth. Life itself, in fact. Our last sunset in the sands of ancient Sumer... or is it?
January 17, 2025 at 9:16 PM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
My biographer's had a couple of beers. If he starts kicking off, I never saw him before in my life. #AuthorsInThePit #QueryTrenches #Querying

@vaudevillian.bsky.social
January 17, 2025 at 7:34 PM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
I fell from the cosmos, fell in love, fell foul of some ritualists, then fell in a dune. The next person doing any falling wasn't going to be me. Death, life, love, magic, cosmic chaos, and a smattering of zombies! What's not to like? #P2Ppit #Q #A #F #LGBT

My Biographer: @vaudevillian.bsky.social
Me, Karen, the avatar of death, climbing from a fiery pit after my excision form the cosmos. My eyes burn red, my fingertips glow where they touch the sand-turned-glass by the colossal heat of the sort of explosion that could rip death from the conceptual realm. The state of my hair, too! Hell of a morning.
January 17, 2025 at 6:40 PM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
I'm Karen, the "unapologetically authentic" human embodiment of death, summoned by accident, then bound to the embodiment life (my fault, sorry!) by love and destiny. Expect cosmic chaos, sharp humor, and raw truths. #P2Ppit #LGBTQ #Q #A #F

My biographer: @vaudevillian.bsky.social
Karen, Destroyer of Worlds, set in Ancient Sumer, exploring life, love, dark magic, rituals, power, greed, hope, an eternal bond
January 17, 2025 at 3:52 PM
deathbecameher.bsky.social
What do you mean, "not published"?

Do they not know who I am? Honestly, my biographer (@vaudevillian.bsky.social) is going to feel my icy touch. And not in a good way.

#querying #fantasy #savekaren
January 14, 2025 at 7:23 PM