All Hallows’ Eve

“I can’t tell if i’ve shit myself or if my ass is just sweaty,” Jack heard me sneer as i adjusted the selt belt over my lap. My first mistake was that i wore jeans this morning. It’s autumn, you know, but it’s also Texas so instead of it being a throttling 100 degrees its only a mere 80 degrees — enough for swamp ass to take full effect even if there is a breeze. Mind you i was never much of a lady, i recall my friend pat often telling me that he wouldn’t invite me to dinner with the queen of England in a hurry; but we both know that it would be a hell of a time up until we both got hauled out and put in the tower of London. I see him now standing by the window, letting the sun warm his face with the breeze blowing his white hair away from his eyes.
“Oh Izzie,” he’d say to me whilst he swayed his large glass of Chardonnay around, the drink sloshing occasionally over the side and onto his shoes. “You have such a way with words your ladyship.” The sarcasm in his voice was not for a moment, lost on me. Good man the commodore. 


However, i fear that i digress. There will be other days for the adventures of two salts getting into trouble, maybe it’ll be a childrens book sometime — that is explicitly not for children because i really like the words fuck, shit and arse. Nevertheless, without further ado, in honour of the spookiest month of the year, i bring you news. I’m sure most of you haven’t checked out my new website so i’ll assume you haven’t seen my post under the writing tab. And thus — the good news! Right now i’m working on an exciting new submission which i will be submitting to a Short Story competition in late November. I won’t say too much aside from it’s dark and theres a boat. I haven’t written a short story since i was sixteen so we’ll see how it turns out. I’m assuming it’ll get rejected of course, but it’ll be written nonetheless and if need be, submitted to whatever place will have it. Ha.


Too many tabs

 I have too many tabs open: American Eagle, Canva, author website inspirations, instagram and a pathetic little google search on “how to find a literary agent”.  It always rolls back to that. I have no idea what i’m doing. This year will be the first year of my life that i have actively been trying to get work published. There i am sitting thinking how proud i should be, only to come across other authors who are publishing short stories like revolving sex partners and sending in narrative articles about feminism every 5 minutes; yet here i am proud of my one sad little submission to a magazine.


 I feel like a small lost child in a supermarket, adults passing me by like i’m invisible and hurrying to the shortest check out line. Everybody knows where they’re going. I have no idea. I’ve spent almost the entirety of my first decade in America doing a lot of different things, so it’s daunting to have reached the point where i feel i must now focus on the deal at hand. The writing. I’ve been running from writing for many years. I get good ideas and i push them away. I ignore my hundreds of notebooks of ideas from before time began, instead sitting watching bloody Love Island and thinking how incredibly sad it is that i’m frying my brain on such filth.


Now that i have made the leap to finally indulge my poor literary chains it’s no wonder that i am entirely overwhelmed. Thousands of stories are intertwined and knotted together, making monkey fists and cussing at me. I’m not entirely sure where to begin. I’m currently working on a submission for a short story competition, i have a creative nonfiction essay that i’m also prepping and a few others scattered about around my desk. My first novel is out somewhere waiting to be read; the stress and embarrassment of that is entirely horrible, several times i’ve been tempted to pull it and hide it in a cave somewhere. Honestly. No one tells you about the utter SHAME of sending out your work, even if it’s not a fear of rejection but a repulsive reaction to the mere act of  “trying”.


Nevertheless — onwards and onwards until the hill begins. I’m still proud of finishing my book this year and finally plucking up the courage to try to get something published — after having had work stolen in the past thats a pretty big step. I think the business of submissions will come along once i get the hang of it and find my footing, but i’ll continue to wonder about my first novel and be slightly disgusted by it haha. For now i’ll try to shed the extra 30lbs covid inflicted upon me, by forcing me to eat regrettably too much and sucking down Dr.Pepper like it was some horse piss elixir. Holy hell i gotta curb that damn sugar addiction and replace it with something.