It’s time for a story. Get ready.
But the more time I spent querying it and getting rejected, then not getting accepted into a Twitter-based mentorship program, the more I started to think that maybe something was missing or not quite right with the book. But since I spent 6 years working on it, I don’t know if I want all that time and effort to be in vain.
“Cemetery clock book” is the working title as I actually haven’t picked one.
Sea fills the air. Salt and sand, Blue and grey and white, Silver pearls, Waves and whirls. And I am full of sea breezes. I wrote this poem dreaming of Prince Edward Island. My father actually first said the phrase “full of sea breezes” to me, but I quickly adopted it as my own andContinue reading “On the Island”
I want to lay Down in the piles Of leaves To feel the soil Slowly consume The part of me That’s already rotten. This was a poem I wrote at the end of October and posted on Instagram. Posting here for posterity.
This is a short story I wrote for Neil Gaiman’s MasterClass: The Art of Storytelling. I liked it a lot, so I wanted to share it here! This is my first short story I’ve posted here, so I hope you like it. It was the First of November—the night of the burning—and Nan knew thatContinue reading “November Song”
Or How to Tell Your Family You’re No Father Along with Your Book than the Last Time They Asked