A poem about a bad man.

A poem about failure. Art by Rachel A Rosen!

A reminder that you can read my newest work right now!

What are we all doing here? What do we expect of ourselves these days?

This essay is not an analysis of Life Of A Showgirl. Not exactly. Is it even a coherent analysis, or is it just a messy, confused vent about what happens when a woman is famous? Well, dear reader, we’re going to find out together. First, a disclaimer on my own biases, my own little standpoint theory discursion. I have a Swiftie in my life who’s very important to me, and that definitely prejudices my perspective on this. I started out as a pretty thoughtless Taylor Swift hater

I’ll get an essay or a poem out every Tuesday, I said. Can’t be that hard, I said. Well, at least I haven’t missed any days with the serialised release of Chinook Phase , the first book of the Prairie Weather trilogy. That’s going up for free on Substack and Patreon, and you can find the first chapters  here  and here ! The most recent chapters are here  and here . This whole parenthood and life thing kind of kneecapped me, so here’s a quick rundown of where I’ve been. About

What do authors owe their readers?

Even secular people put too much credence in accidents of birth and acts of god.

Thinking critically is an art form of its own. Not one that all creative people have mastered.

Get your fix of university student cozy academia, with maturation, love, and just a little revenge, on Patreon , Or on Substack! And of...

So, I don't really do self-help, for a variety of reasons, but I've had this article jangling around in my head for a minute.  I'm in the...

Happy Friday. I was born on a Friday, and I’m thinking it might be a very good publishing day. What do you think? When do you usually...

So, before I get into the career necromancy, some housekeeping. Who tf are you? If you've never heard of my ass before - uh, hi. Thanks...

I put on the locket that I bought when my parents nearly divorced and mourned you although you had not died I don’t rank the people I’ve...

The day I found out what you did Silver lockets might as well have been piles of ash flowing between my fingers Nothing was beautiful in...

a lengthy review of House of Leaves.

Forgive that absolute blast from the past of a title. (For those going, "huh?", it's an obscure, out-of-date meme. Don't worry about it.)...

Hey, everyone! If you didn’t hear about the Storybundle I’m in, it’s not too late to snag my book and works by Kevin J Anderson and Scott...

I'm slightly above average at a handful of things Not good enough for brilliance but Too good to ignore In an era where skills must be...

laying out a tender organ between unskillful fingers; hands shaking as I offered up a blurry picture of something intimate, naked,...