The thing is.

So I’ve decided to do another DIY thing.

I’m writing a rough and raw self care guide for fucked up people. It’s coming along nicely.

We all know I’m a huge Dennis Cooper fan for years now. I saw a link to this old article from BOMB and this bit is one of the reasons why DC is one of my literary heroes (and an awfully sweet lovely person I like very much):

DC I hardly think about the material, or not in that way. I write about things that scare the shit out of me, that determines what I write

That is something I do when I write non fiction and 80% of the reason why I tend not to submit it or finish my edits on it.

I’m also running into the issue with my language again.

I have a couple of essays I took the dirty words out of and they don’t read like I wrote them.

So then my problem is do I put them in a book and shop it? Release it myself?

I dunno.

In other news.

All of my finished fiction is out in the wild. I also realized something new about my writing life. When I am not getting rejected a lot my production slows down. It feels really strange, I didn’t even think about it until the other day. That is something new for me. So I’m working on new stuff.

Now before I go, head over to the Rumpus read over that list of authors of color. It is such a beautiful thing to see in a Big Damn Deal magazine.

I am too tired to say anything else.


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