So. How about that pandemic, huh? I hope you all are staying healthy. I’m certainly trying. Both my roommates are working from home, which is good, even if they’re starting to go a little stir-crazy… As for me, I’ve been deemed an essential worker. Which means my day-to-day has changed very little, because I’m still going out in public every day. This is… not the worst thing that could happen, obviously, but I have my reservations. Pros: I still have…
I follow a lot of writers on Twitter. If you do too, you’ve probably seen these kinds of tweets: And yes, obviously that’s not a “writing process,” that’s the joke. There are a lot of these tweets, though, and a lot of “Writing is hard! Why do I do this to myself?” tweets, and… not a lot of “I love writing!” tweets. I suspect it has something to do with the medium, that Twitter is a place to whine on;…
She steps out of the restaurant and finds a sidewalk full of paparazzi, as usual. Just as they start all their shouting and camera flashing, though, they freeze–abrupt, in utter unison, like someone hit a pause button. She stops, too, but she’s seen videos of things like this; it’s an old meme, or something, or so she thinks until someone steps forward from the crowd, silhouetted by a camera frozen mid-flash. “Been looking for you,” he says, and his voice…
I have been listening to a LOT of podcasts lately. For the past decade, I’ve been focusing on my craft; I’ve been steadily getting better and better at writing fiction, through classes, through podcasts, through practice. For most of that time, though, I’d been thinking of myself as “too young” — to publish, but also to get out here and start making a name for myself. Considering I was in high school a decade ago, that mindset makes sense, even…
This story will also be read aloud on the Alone In A Room With Invisible People podcast on Halloween! Rachel dreamed of a man she’d never met. She never understood what it meant—he just silently led her down the stairs by the cliff and into the old smuggler’s cave that everyone said was haunted. And the last girl to say she’d been having strange dreams had gone missing months ago—run away in the night, they said, but her parents didn’t…
I was listening to the Alone in a Room with Invisible People Podcast today, and episode 63 in particular, which discusses publishing under pseudonyms. Specifically that, thanks to the way Amazon’s algorithms show potential readers what other books your readers have read, it’s probably best to publish different genres under different names, so that your readers for that genre can find you. With this in mind, I set out to figure out what genre(s) I write in, anyway. The most…
Hey! Long time, no post! So what am I up to? Oh, you know. Just graduating from grad school. Getting my Master’s degree, NBD. Today, in fact! (Why am I posting right now? Why not? I don’t have homework anymore.) Also! I just hit the “publish” button on Amazon for a new flash fiction collection! If you came here from my mailing list, the first story is right there in your email! If you didn’t… what are you doing? Go…
The slap of my boots against worn concrete echoes hollowly in the too-silent hotel stairwell. The quiet means the fans are out, and if the fans are out the gases they keep to the lower floors will rise and kill everything they blanket—and dead guests are bad for business. There are few enough as is. Worse, on the seventh floor I find sparking wires where the alarms should be. If some asshole’s gonna tamper with one of the few habitable…
I have one! I also updated things to be GDPR-compliant (I hope). You can sign up over on the sidebar, or on the popup that has probably appeared by the time you’re reading this, or RIGHT HERE AT THE END OF THIS POST because wow, I can embed these things! Didn’t know that! I don’t have any signup incentives YET, but if you sign up now you’ll still get whatever it ends up being. 🙂 In writing news, I do…
The island birds squawked of an intruder, and the Witch of Gull Rock creaked up out of her chair with a sigh. “It’ll be another seal,” she muttered aloud as she wrenched the door of her lonely shanty open and hobbled carefully down the stone stairs to the rocky beach below. “Or perhaps a beached whale, hm?” A child, after all, would be too much to hope for, but she always checked, in case the gods chose to smile upon…