Read a free excerpt of Janelle Monáe’s new book The Memory Librarian

Sprawling, ambitious science fiction stories have been part of Janelle Monáe’s music since the beginning of her career. Her debut EP, Metropolis, her second and third albums. The ArchAndroid The Electric LadyAll segments are part of a lengthy Afrofuturist narrative about Cindi Mayweather (an android character) who falls in love and makes a messianic career outlaw. She was nominated for a Grammy in 2018 with her album “The Last of Us”. Dirty Computer launches a new story, about a dystopic future where marginalized citizens — especially Black, female, and queer people — are likely to be identified as “dirty computers” and taken away to be reprogrammed by an oppressive regime.

Monáe further fleshed out Dirty Computer’s story in a 48-minute YouTube video starring Monáe as a victim of that regime, having her memories of her lovers (played by Tessa Thompson and Jayson Aaron) erased as part of her conversion to a “Torch,” a regime facilitator. This book expands on the story. The Memory Librarian, and other stories about dirty computers, a collection of short stories credited to Monáe various collaborators. In these five stories, outsider characters navigate the spread of the New Dawn regime, while a Black, queer woman named Seshet — the memory librarian of the title — tries to hold onto a position of power within New Dawn, even though she understands that she herself is at risk because of her identity.

Those questions of identity, memory, self-discovery, and the struggle to bridge multiple conflicting worlds reach throughout the stories Janelle Monáe tells in her music. They’ve been part of her film work as well, in movies like Hidden Figures and Moonlight. Five stories Memory LibrarianShe will continue to explore the ideas she has always loved and bring in new people and perspectives that can further define the world. Dirty Computer. The Memory Librarian It is now available in eBook, Hardcover, and Audiobook versions.

Here is a sample of the excerpt. Memory Librarian story “Save Changes,” written with author Yohanca Delgado. Two sisters Amber, and Larry live together in this story with their mother Diana. After being identified as a radical, Diana was taken by New Dawn and “cleansed,” which left her with apparent brain damage and erratic behavior. She’s now under house arrest and periodic New Dawn observation. Each sister has their own way of handling anger and rebellion following the death of their mother. As they try to get by in a neighborhood dominated by intrusive policing drones (“NDRs”) and suspicious neighbors who now avoid them, they clash over what comes next for their family.

William Morrow

Amber was forced to walk past the family portrait that Larry had hung at the bottom of the stairs, as it was one of their first.

Larry had kept the fancy camera that Larry bought for his father after Larry died. It was a bulky, heavy thing. The camera was set up on a tripod, and all four were sitting around laughing. Here was Larry, dressed in a shirt buttoned all the way up, with a hideous bolo tie that made her look like she’d been plucked out of some old-timey 1990s movie and plopped onto the Melos’ couch. As she sat cross-applesauce, her silly smile revealed that she had a lost front tooth. And here was Amber: standing behind the couch — on a stool, she remembered — eyebrows meeting over an anxious smile, her dark curls, barely restrained by a hair clip, casting a shadow on her face. Even though her frilled dress was something she had made, it looked awkward on her. Larry and Amber were miniaturized versions of themselves: Amber could clearly see the future.

But the real star of the photo was their mother, sitting on the couch next to Larry, with all three of them — Pablo, Amber, and Larry — unconsciously leaning toward her, like flowers tilting to sunlight. The black sheath showed her arms’ sinewy muscles, while her golden hair was wild and curled. They could see their mother relaxed, smiling and lilting towards their father. She wasn’t even smiling, but the serenity of her expression said it all. The thought of the woman behind them was almost unbelievable. She was gritting her teeth, buzzing around like a bee and squirming in their kitchen.

Once they’d taken a few shots with the timer, her father had hustled over to the camera and looked at the pictures on the tiny screen. “Let’s bring Am-barr into the light. We can’t have our prettiest girl in the shadows.” But by then, their mother had gotten up and smoothed her dress. Larry had already put the bolo over Amber’s head. Amber was bouncing on the sofa back, so Larry moved quickly to push Amber off the stool.

That photo was Amber’s real favorite, the one in which their father was heading toward the camera, while their mother rose up, lost in thought, and Larry and Amber wrestled. She didn’t think to look at it often, but she had it tucked into the mirror of her bedroom dresser.

And, anyway, there hadn’t been many family photos after that. As if the fact that there was a camera made it less significant. Amber never stopped looking at the smiling picture her father chose. It had been there for many years. But even as she heard Larry’s footsteps climbing toward the roof, something stopped Amber at the foot of the stairs and sent her hand up to her neck, to the comforting weight of the larimar stone against her sternum.

Let’s say you had a great time.

Her father hadn’t talked about his childhood much, but Amber knew he’d grown up in the mountains of the Dominican Republic and that instead of going to school, he had been put to work in the vertical shafts of the larimar mines, digging for rare ocean blue the earth had hidden there, bright as anything. Perhaps that is what it was: those who put in the effort are blessed with magic.

He had not used it when it was needed. After seeing their mother being taken away, they witnessed the pompified uproar and nevermind purge of those rebels who tried to start a revolution. They all watched, even Pablo — that’s all he had done. Watch.

Except that his wife was dressed in white hospital gowns and had to be repositioned for cleaning. He then left the room.

Who could blame him? Amber had stayed, but she didn’t remember it herself. All she could recall was sitting down to watch it and feeling as if she were the one being erased — and wasn’t it true? New Dawn had taken away part of Amber’s mother.

And, of course, then their mother stayed gone, because there were internments, reprogramming, Torch training — all of it televised as a warning to everyone else. Their mother was barely recognisable in the footage. Artificially bright and cooperative. She was here, processing paperwork in a Nevermind facility. Her cheerful shredding of militant contraband led her to escorting the desperate-eyed to their cleansings.

All of this could have been avoided. The pain of it all was to feel resentful at her father, who waited to give her larimar until he died. It was only after his days had ended that he finally told her it could be rewinded.

Amber didn’t believe him at first, assuming that this was near-death rambling, but Pablo was firm. “Use it wisely,” he said. “You only get one.”

11 HOURS

The sisters were perched on top of the roof and looked up at the sun. This roof had a very small area and was home to only a few antennas for high-band networks. The mother of their children had visited them before the New Dawn drones were erased. Though the inside of the house was almost certainly bugged, the sisters weren’t sure if the roof thing was still true. They still came to the house whenever they wanted to speak in private.

Larry lit up a cigarette.

“Disgusting,” Amber said. “And it will kill you.”

“My mother is downstairs, Am-barr,” she said, drawing out the rolling r the way their father used to. “I don’t need supervision.”

“I think she might have something to say if she could see you.”

“Good thing she can’t come up here, then, huh,” she said, taking a long drag.

“What’s up with the bracelet?” Amber said. “A gift from a friend.”

“Still reckless and stupid. What’s new?”

“Having a friend? Amber, tell me what you would like. You can roll over, and you’ll be dead. Take up tinkering with little fucking clocks?”

“My clocks and watches don’t get me in trouble. Remember the last time your love life almost got us all detained?”

“I was in high school, Amber! What did I know?”

“Right. And since that was so long ago, I’m assuming that you know what the rules are by now?”

“And what is it with the clocks, anyway?” Larry said, ignoring her and ashing into the empty street below. “I don’t know what you and your little fetish are waiting for, but this is it. See our life. Our mother has been raped and is under house arrest. Papi’s dead. Do you hear me? Dead. Our situation is basically that of orphans. We are not going to be saved by anyone. We have one chance at life. Wake up, Amber, this is it.”

Amber reached over and took a drag of Larry’s cigarette. “Easy for you to say. While I take care of all the worry and cleanup, you can be free to have fun and feel relaxed. You don’t think I’d like to go on a date?”

Not that it mattered — no New Dawn-fearing family would let their offspring date a Melo sister. Amber was forced to learn this lesson the hard and painful way. Larry had to not be with Amber.

This made the situation even more alarming.

Larry bent forward and put her back against the wall, so she could see Amber and make a laugh. After lighting another cigarette, she took in a deep breath.

“Her name is Natalie and—”

“Break it off.”

Larry made a joke. “I’m seeing her tonight. Don’t make such ugly faces,” she said, switching into her impression of their mother. “One day your face will freeze like that.”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re going to get us all caught up and cleaned.”

Larry laughed yet again. But this time, her jaw muscles were clenched. She reached for her cigarette in her pockets and stomped it out.

“I’m coming with you,” Amber said.

“Hard pass. Don’t be ridiculous.” Larry put her palms on the concrete and pushed herself up.

Amber reached for her sleeves and pulled her down. “I have Papi’s stone, remember?” She pulled the long gold chain out from under the collar of her T-shirt and held it up to Larry. Their father said it was impossible to see the Caribbean Sea’s crystalline blue-green. Amber could see through its clear waters to another world. A future that was far beyond her wildest dreams. “If anything happens, if we get caught, I can—”

“Oh god. This again.” Larry glanced at the stone and gave Amber a long, pitying look. “That shit isn’t real, Ambo. Look at our life. Look at what good it’s done us.”

“I won’t make the same mistake Papi made,” Amber said, almost pleading. “I won’t wait.”

Larry brought her head close to Amber’s and squeezed her shoulder. “Do you really still think that’s what he was doing? Holding out for something more important than saving his own wife?”

“Maybe he thought something might happen to us — to you and me — something worse than what was happening to her.”

“Or maybe it isn’t real. Maybe it’s just a nice story and maybe it’s just a pretty stone.” Larry gently tapped the side of Amber’s forehead with her index finger. “Ever think?”

“Papi believed,” Amber insisted as she swatted Larry’s hand away.

“Well, that’s your problem,” Larry said. Amber raised her arm and reached for it again. “Both of you, really. Sitting around doing a lot of believing and not much else.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Amber said, taking Larry’s hand, standing up, and then immediately snatching it back. “Somebody has to care about what happens to this family.”

“Your believing and your larimar aren’t doing shit for us, Amber.” Larry leaned out on the barrier and looked down at the near-empty streets below. “Ever think about what New York used to look like?”

They had switched subjects once more. Amber was next to Amber. “I’m going with you.”

“Just, like, people everywhere, you know? Crowds. Cars. Noise. Life.” Larry turned to go inside, but not before punching Amber lightly on the shoulder.

“Fine, come along. That little stone won’t do jack, but at least you’ll get out of this depressing-ass house. Mom can babysit your clocks — but tell her not to cook them.”

9 HOUR WORK

Larry’s room was on the second floor of the brownstone, right across from Amber’s, but Amber couldn’t remember spending any time in her sister’s room since they’d started college. She found piles of books and clothing everywhere, and walls as barren as her memories. Larry’s drawings, all in black and white, were piled high in a corner by the dresser, surrounded by little nubs of charcoal. She had always been the most talented in her art classes and if it weren’t for their family’s reputation…

You don’t need to think about this, okay?

It had taken some rummaging, but she had followed Larry’s orders and dug up a pair of bell-bottom jeans, which would be the most likely to obscure their hover blades. She liked the way they looked, she decided, padding over to Larry’s long mirror in her socks and doing a shy half turn to look at her own butt.

“They look good, Amber, you know they do. Stop being scared of your own reflection,” said Larry. Also, she was wearing bell bottoms and a deep blue shirt tied at the waist. Her hair was slicked back and she wore no jewelry except for Natalie’s bracelet.

“Why don’t you ever wear your amber? From Papi?”

Amber reached beneath her collar, wrapped her fingers around larimar, and then let it go.

“What does it matter?” Larry abruptly got up from her bed and headed to her open closet, which was bursting with rumpled clothes drooping from lopsided hangers.

“It’s the last thing Papi gave us, isn’t it?” But she could tell Larry wasn’t paying attention. Amber sighed and sat down on the carpet to pick through Larry’s makeup bag, which was spread out on the floor in front of the mirror. She didn’t want to start a new fight. They’d reached an uneasy détente, and though Amber hated the circumstances, she sort of liked that they were doing something together, for once.

She was trying hard not to think too far ahead, though the images of New Dawn vans and the memory of their mother’s arrest kept cycling through her mind. How likely was it that all would go well? It was even possible for her to stay behind, and let Larry take care of herself. Who knew how many times she’d gone out before and made it safely home? But could she ever forgive herself if something went wrong and she wasn’t there?

Larry took a look at Larry for a second, then tilted her head towards the side. Then she swiveled back toward her closet. “You look so good in yellow and I think I have a shirt—”

“Really, Larry, why don’t you ever wear it?” Amber jumped up and started pawing through Larry’s dresser. “Did you lose it?” “Natalie wears the necklace,” Larry said, gently pulling Amber back in order to hold up a mustard-yellow blouse with tiny flowers on it. “Groovy, baby.”

Amber’s jaw dropped. It was so serious that Larry had gifted Natalie something so valuable, full of fond memories. Amber was unsure of what to do so she didn’t say anything. The blouse looked great on her. Larry was satisfied and walked back to her closet.

“Put some shimmer on,” Larry said, her voice muffled as she rooted around on the floor underneath the racks of clothes. “Live a little. Better to look good if they catch us and put our mug shots out on the feed.”

“Not funny,” Amber said, but she dipped a brush in a shimmery powder and swiped it across her cheekbones, in part because she needed to do something with her hands and in part because she did look pretty when she turned her face to catch the light.

Amber smoothed on a bit of eye shadow and watched Larry’s back in the mirror as she pushed aside racks of clothes, rummaged for something behind them, and emerged with their father’s old camera.

“Got it! Remember, it does video too?” Larry pushed a button and the lens extended itself, as if stretching after a long night of sleep. “It still works!”

Amber thought it was a rover. “Nope, nope, nope,” she said, leaping up and reaching for the backpack before Larry had finished zipping it closed. “Are you trying to feed evidence directly to New Dawn?”

“It’s just our own memories, for us,” Larry said quietly, even as she let Amber put the camera back in the closet it had come out of.

“We’re doing enough stupid risk-taking for one day, don’t you think?”

Larry didn’t have anything smart to say back, for once.

After a short time, it took them to locate their mother. However, when they arrived, they discovered that her bedroom’s door had been locked. They listened for a moment and heard some muffled sounds they couldn’t make sense of. They told her that they were out for a walk, and she said something about being cautious. The sisters looked at each other as they made their way to the front door.

“What’s she doing in there, you think?” Larry asked.

“Who knows? Probably knitting a sweater out of barbed wire or something.”

Larry grinned, but Amber and the sisters didn’t say anything else. They were walking down the street with their hover blades. Amber appeared to have eight legs.

“You used to wear these all the time,” said Larry, laughing. “I thought you remembered.”

“I thought I did too,” said Amber, careening into a parked car and setting off an alarm. Glancing back toward home, she caught a flash of movement from Mrs. Perez’s window before the curtains snapped shut again.

“Okay, we can’t start dealing with NDRs yet,” Larry said urgently, grabbing her firmly by the arm. “I got you. Bring your feet parallel to each other — not too close — okay, and keep them there. I’ll pull you until your muscles remember.”

It took a few more minutes of spaghetti-legged panic, but Amber’s feet did remember how to skate. As she looked at street signs, the adrenaline was a big help and Amber focused her attention on Larry.

Even though there was no law against nighttime walking, it is rare that people do. It simply wasn’t worth the risk of an interaction with New Dawn. There was some movement, but it was mostly night workers making their way home from work and occasional patrolling rovers above. Amber could see the ghost city as Larry did on the roof.

The Riverside Drive Viaduct wasn’t far from their house and Larry led them to it in lazy circles, with detours and slow zigzags down smaller streets. Larry said that leading a drone into an off-grid area was the most dangerous thing one could do.

The system worked because people gathered in the shady parts of the city, blighted places New Dawn didn’t think worth regularly patrolling, and the goal was to avoid bringing attention to them. Larry said that the good thing was that black and brown neighborhoods such as Harlem or Hamilton Heights had many blind spots. These were magical areas where you could make any noise you want.

Amber was skeptical and kept her hand from touching her sternum. They found the first NDR just a few blocks away from their home. It was placed in the middle of an unpopulated street to perform routine checks. No one was around and the drone kept whirring from side to side, trying to stop anyone else from walking down the street. Larry took Amber’s hand and pulled them down a side street. Amber kept an eye on Amber for flashing red lights and continued downhill.

Larry held out her hand and called Amber to an end at the halfway point. She took one of her backpack straps off, and placed it on her stomach. Amber received a full-face mask with gold feathers and the leather version with cat ears. Larry had explained that the masks confused the drone face readers, but that it was best to wait to put them on until they’d gotten away from their neighborhood.

Amber felt a little more comfortable in her mask and was enjoying the smooth descent downhill towards the Hudson River. In the evening quiet the sound of distant music seemed to grow closer and louder, until at the bottom of the hill — where the street met Twelfth Avenue — two hazy figures appeared. Side by side, they didn’t move. There was something monstrous about their heads that chilled Amber’s heart, especially against the backdrop of the massive steel arches of the viaduct, which soared up behind the silhouettes in the darkness.

Amber could still hear laughter and loud music from a distance, but she began to halt, becoming acutely aware of the fact that she was not welcome here.

Larry squeezed her arm quickly and whispered, “It’s their masks, you baby, don’t stop.” She pulled her toward the two figures and as they drew closer, they became two ordinary men, wearing jeans and hover blades themselves. One wore a mask shaped like a rat’s head and the other a pigeon.

“Hey,” said the pigeon in a muffled voice, the soft plastic twisting and contorting as he spoke.

“Hey. Thank you,” said Larry as they parted to let them pass. Amber noticed that she was shaking hands with them all, and it seemed oddly formal yet naive trusting. She was surprised when the pigeon put a second hand on top of hers and said, “Welcome.”

She looked in the mask, but couldn’t see anything but the plastic beak.

“Okay,” she said, stupidly. The sisters skated down the street, and the pigeon gave a nod.

Amber turned to them. “Shouldn’t they be asking for a special password? What if we’re spies?”

“Everyone knows who we are, thanks to Mom, remember?”

Larry replied. “And besides, we want everyone to feel welcome.” “We,” Amber said in a shrill little whisper. “‘We’?”

Amber wanted an explanation, but Amber stopped as the viaduct expanded over them. It darkened all except for Amber’s explosion of color and music.

It was a mix of dancing and socializing for at least 100.

It was just like New York City, the place she had always believed it to be.

The Memory Librarian: Other Tales from Dirty Computers

Price at publishing time.

Janelle Monáe brings to the written page the Afrofuturistic world of her critically acclaimed album Dirty Computer exploring how different threads of liberation — queerness, race, gender plurality, and love — become tangled with future possibilities of memory and time in a totalitarian landscape, and the consequence of trying to unravel and weave them into freedoms.