It’s a story my best friend will never get to see, though it’s for him. Yesterday was his birthday.
Grief can be an unexpected horror, lurching out when you least expect it, but over time you can find that, despite how much it hurts to carry, it grants you strength you didn’t know you had.
I started writing a new novel yesterday. It’s a story I’ve been wanting to write for a long time, and one I feel I can finally handle. It’s a 90’s zombie apocalypse novel, and the first story I ever tried to write when I was a kid.
Sent off my first short story submission for the year. 🤞🏼
It’s crawling with the undead. 🧟♂️
Shoveled a mountain of snow today, but my mind kept drifting to all the conventions coming up this Summer. It sure is something bright to look forward to amidst all that is cold and dreary. And congratulations to all the Stoker nominees! Great times ahead!🎉🤘🏼
This year’s been unconscionably rough with things happening that are an affront to humanity, but sometimes all we can do is stoke those internal fires with what we have left and try and create to a better world. Or at the very least, construct a mirror to show the truth.
March starts a renewal on all fronts. I’ve been called to work on new things. A new book and short stories to write.
Hoping to end this month strong by wrapping up some edits to Happy Reapers and getting some short stories out the door.
Got my pre-jfc-another-snowstorm run in before we’re buried again. We just started to see the ground again. 😭
I tried to tell Stormy the wet snow was still plaguing the outside realm. He wasn’t having any of it.
Needless to say he wasn’t impressed, but tolerated it. 😾
Me up way too early writing a scene where a character sees a ghost emerging out of the corner of their eye, and as I'm getting into it, I see something move in my peripheral vision making me jump.
It was just a strand of my hair… 🙂↕️🙄
It's too early for this shit.
Rough days and spinning my wheels on the writing front lately, but at least I have my plants and some decent mood lighting. 💀🐙🪴
I can feel a breakthrough coming though, or maybe this sensation is from something else…
I do so and am reminded that this is my theme, and with it comes the scrambled pieces of the ending I’ve been looking for.
Trust that intuition, y’all. 👻
I’ve been stuck on the end of my a novel for what feels like eons. Trying to write something that ties things up much better than what I already have. So I’m wracking my brain this morning and a little voice deep in the shadows pipes up and tells me to find this random paragraph and read it.
Tell your story. Examine what lies in the dark and jagged corners of your heart if you feel the calling. Do it out of spite if you have to.
The systems in which we live (and some jaded folks) will try and make you feel like the pursuit of art is just a burden. Like it’s not worth it. A pipe dream (especially here in the US.)
Fuck that.
The candle is burning low, friends, but I’m grateful for a quiet evening and weekend to recharge.
Keep the love burning strong. Burn through the hate, for it will prove shallow. I don’t believe in much anymore, but I do believe in that.
(and when I write the second book before the first.) But if you like Ghostbusters, Hunger Games, and all kinds of occult magic and bewildering fuckery, I got you. 👻🤘🏼
This week has me like…
But! I finished outlining the latest draft of my novel! It’s 90% ready for folks to peek at, but needs some ironing out. It’s a complex-icated series to write, especially when our real life dystopia keeps trying to mix with my fictional one…
You never know when those story gems hit. I just try to be ready when I can, no matter where I am. 🙃
This is Not A Test was hella intense but I really enjoyed it. I’m always down for an apocalypse of the undead… caveat being that so long as it’s in a literary sense, not literal. With the way 2026 is going, I don’t want to bring that kind of energy around.
The Handyman Method was a mud-and-blood ridden descent, and as someone who works in construction... hoo boy.
What I read in January. 👻
I really dug the take on the supernatural threat in Devils Kill Devils.
Haunting of Room 904 was so delightfully creepy and I loved the cultural insight into the paranormal.
Stories I feel have some legs. It’s something to hold onto at least.
Momentum towards better days. 🤘🏼
The past month has me feeling like butter scraped over too much bread, ending each day by passing out at 6 because I’m just so done.
But, I somehow read more books than any month last year, made some serious headway with my historical, dark fantasy novel series, and wrote two short stories.
I’m soul-tired, but still showing up to write. Current events have broken my heart way open and writing from there because it’s all I have. Here’s to finding the good where we can and cherishing it.
I wrote a bit of a song tonight. First time in a loooong time. It’s angry and sad but hopeful. I hope something comes of it.
Sometimes to find the story, you just gotta write through the uncertainty. That great not-knowing. The truth of what you’re trying to summon will eventually distill itself out of the muddle. Not sure how well that holds up with others, but I’m finding it to be helpful, especially lately.
Writing lately has been a lot more staring off into nowhere than actual writing. A lot of processing, I guess.
I watched someone get murdered today.
For a long time now my heart has been barely holding it together, but watching that has truly broken something in me.
She was just scared.
Scared like so many confronted by this swarm of hate for far too long.
This must stop. All of it.
I started writing a new novel a week ago. (Only doing this after FINALLY giving up Thornwillow for edits 🫣) It’s been an outlet for a lot of feelings recently, that’s for sure. Especially anger.
So, this new one in two words:
Demonic Lorax.
