โ Pushcart Nom
โ 2026 BoTN
โ Monarch Queer Lit Award
โ Longlisted - 2025 Caledonian First Novel Award
โ Winner - 2026 Hartnett Queer Lit Now Fiction Award
#PosterPit
A genre-bending, coming-of-age, crossover debut where Mysterious Skin meets Demon Copperhead in the land of Winterโs Boneโa queer Appalachian gothic, with the emotional devastation of A Little Life and the violent beauty of Bones And All.
#Q#R
https://t.co/TMaTO1bGMN
Humans can only see ~0.0035% of the electromagnetic spectrum.
Yet many people are convinced that what they can perceive with their eyes represents the totality of reality.
Weโre effectively blind to 99.9965% of the electromagnetic universe.
Something to think about.
#wippit
A genre-bending, coming-of-age, crossover debut where Mysterious Skin meets Demon Copperhead in the land of Winterโs Boneโa queer Appalachian gothic, with the emotional devastation of A Little Life and the violent beauty of Bones And All.
https://t.co/TMaTO1bGMN
"There's no way you can write a ten page paper without chatGPT"
WE COULD LITERALLY DO EVERYTHING THAT EVER HAPPENED IN HUMAN HISTORY WITHOUT CHATGPT WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.
โPractice any Art: music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, no matter how well or badly, not to get money & fame but to experience becoming, to find out what's inside you, to make your soul grow.โ
I used to think when Jesus said that anyone with the faith of a mustard seed could move a mountain, it was a testament to the deadened magic of the world, a kind of mockery of our inability to create miracles for ourselves. But we created machines from sand and metal that speak alien languages. We built bombs that disrupt matter by shifting them at the subatomic level. We can fly. We can live under the sea. We can send songs to each other through invisible waves on the air, fall in love with someone we never met, travel across the world with only our fingers while our eyes are closed. We can tell a story so amazing that it shifts the very foundation of reality. We've been moving mountains this entire time. It's only because we've become so accustomed to the mundanity of our miraculous powers that we've forgotten it is miraculous.
Dostoevsky was 28 when they stood him in front of a firing squad. Blindfolded. Hands tied. He could hear the rifles being loaded.
At the last second a messenger on horseback arrived. The Tsar had commuted the sentence. The entire execution was staged. Psychological torture designed to break him.
It worked. He had a seizure on the spot.
They sent him to a labour camp in Siberia. 4 years. Freezing. Starving. Sleeping on wooden planks next to murderers. His epilepsy got worse. He had no paper. No pen. Nothing.
When he got out he was broke. His first wife died. His brother died. He inherited his brothers debts. He was so desperate for money he signed a contract with a publisher that would have given away the rights to everything hed ever write if he missed the deadline.
He wrote The Gambler in 26 days to make it. Dictated it to a 20 year old stenographer named Anna. Married her three months later.
Then the real work started. Crime and Punishment. The Idiot. Demons. The Brothers Karamazov. The greatest novels in the history of the Russian language. Maybe any language.
The man who stood blindfolded before the firing squad, who convulsed on the ground while soldiers watched, who slept next to killers in Siberia for 4 years, who was buried in debt and grief.
That man wrote: "every minute can be an eternity of happiness."
He earned the right to say it.
its never over. never give up fren.