My latest food experiment is one of those breads that contains a singularity's worth of grains & seeds—the heartiest black hole ever to exist. Pairing it with a nut butter made of an additional army's worth of kernels & pips, I may be dangerously close to bending the laws of time, space, & fiber.

Skeleton draft complete! 15K of bare bones chaos, ready to be animated by your friendly neighborhood necromancer into a full-fledged story one day! But while waiting for friend feedback, I'm going to play with plots for another idea & I can't wait. Happy writing everyone!

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Found a hilarious book typo. When you read that the "charming little restaurant" was filled with "soft yellow lightning," what do you imagine? A weather mage having a bad date, a hex-your-ex gone wrong, a sentient cloud party-crashing, or a stormy portent stopping by for brunch?

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In our last dnd session, we had no trouble killing giant mosquitos & skeleton snakes, and yet almost got annihilated by acid-spitting wall decor, struggling to bonk them to death while our flesh melted. There's a metaphor in there somewhere, but I haven't rolled a high enough perception to find it.

I learned to knit without looking so my hands could flitter-flutter while my mind meeting-rots. But today I was so tired I started knitting with my eyes closed. One step closer to sleep stitching—drifting through darning dreams, waking up in a pile of slumber sweaters, all the purled possibilities.

2 bones left to bury in my skeleton draft. Sometimes I wish I could convince fairies to finish it, cobbling storyfilled shoes out of my jumbled thoughts. But I know fighting for the finish is half the fun, & surviving your own storm-wild moods is just life alas. So we write.

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Today's scene was a fantastical Rube Goldberg machine of pixie crystals & troll trades. If you give a ghoul a corpse, you might just get a pet—and make up with your best friend, who definitely didn't think you were starting a cult or anything, that's ridiculous.

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Still escaping reality, I binged My Lady Jane. The romance had dialogue & plot twists that were exciting & surprising—a good reminder to sprinkle subversion & absurdity into a story to prevent it crumbling into cliche. When I write, I hope to surprise both the reader & myself.

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Finished season 1 of EOS 10. What a delightful scifi podcast! Chaotic found family, nuanced characters, adorable interpersonal arcs—I'm still learning to write a satisfying emotional progression like that. One that feels earned & real & occasionally elicits screams &/or squeals.

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Another scene down. 6 to go. Today's involved a wraith who'd lost a beloved pet—their living link to this mortal realm. But a link can be anything. Rain pitter-pattering against cool glass. A new journal open to infinity. The laugh of a loved one, warm in your chest. What's yours?

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My goal is to finish the skeleton draft of Academy by the end of February. I have 6 bones left to unearth, dust-covered & time-soaked. I'm looking forward to my first attempt at layering, tackling the stars in my eyes one pass at a time instead of drowning in words that could be.

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When magic is emotion, you can’t control the power—you can only control yourself. I envy those who struggle with lack. I have always been too much, too far, too late. Others wilt, fade, drift. I consume, sharpen, crash. They let go, but I become, again and again. #amwriting

Zookeepers sound like they’re negotiating with aliens.

Captain Crunch of the Oryxes is refusing to parlay without a bushel of apples. Tagua leader Sunny D was tranqed for biting a diplomat. Fruit Loop the fallen Peccary Queen has allied with dik-dik mercenaries Snap, Crackle, & Pop in a jailbreak.

Today's scene: Introducing your bff to your demonic personal trainer did not go well. What's a struggling magic student / aspiring criminal overlord to do? #writer

I understand why giants love restaurant supply stores. Gallons of syrup & pounds of pancake mix for Sunday brunches. Buckets of dressing & bricks of cheese for a shrub salad. Slabs of meat to roast on a spit like kin of old. Sleds of rice & wagons of frozen pastries—enough carbs to kill a king.

Makeup stores are modern apothecaries, brimming with potions to plump & shine, gloss & lift, smooth & glow. An elixir of youth hidden in a fluorescent labyrinth. An ouroboros of aisles devouring skin-deep desires. Wishes, hopes & dreams in travel-size serums. Ageless faces, buy one get one free.

Nothing like a workout that feels like you left your lungs at home. No pain, no gain, no oxygen till you combust, implode, rise from the ashes with squeaky clean bones & a shiny new soul, purified by gleaming sweat & thrumming blood. You’ve reached your limit—now you discover what lies beyond it.

Having engineer friends is like being in Star Trek.

It’s not linear, Chad—you’re inflating the sigma! The core model was extracted from silicone data, you madman. There was no point in making it Gaussian, we could have made it uniform from the start. Now the whole sensitivity matrix is gonna blow!