incipient words, and immediate words

First things first: Stim: An Autism Anthology pre-orders are going out now! I’m really excited to be a part of this one; the piece I contributed, “Thirteen Ways of Looking at [You]”, was only my second ever piece to be accepted for publication, and to see it in such illustrious company is awesome.

Stim will be in bookshops in April, if you didn’t get in on this when the preorder campaign was running. Go pick up a copy from your local indie book zone!

Second: I have not one, but two poems soon to be published! The first will be available in Lucent Dreaming issue 7; the second will be appearing in SAND issue 21. This is absolute madness, from my point of view, as I am much more a prose writer than I am a poet — but it is the best kind of absolute madness, and it makes it that much more of an honour to see my work out in the world.

I wrote both poems right after I came back from LA. One of them, “(baby don’t hurt me)”, is about precarious queer joy in unfamiliar spaces. The other, “Entreaty to the rattlesnake population of Griffith Park,” is dedicated to whoever put up a sign at the Griffith Observatory that read CAUTION: RATTLESNAKES, causing me to experience a disappointment antithetical to self-preservation when no dangerous snake-type creatures actually tried to gnaw on my flesh. On the other hand, the author is dead, so they can be about other things if you want, I guess?

Obviously it’s a weird time right now. I’m still in the process of reacting; at intervals I catch myself desperately wanting to cry, only to find that I can’t make it happen. I’m anxious, despite my relative security. I hate the uncertainty of the immediate future with my whole life, and I wish I trusted any authority to have our best interests at heart.

With what little platform I have, I’ll say: stay home if you can. Be kind to the people working at the supermarket and the pharmacy. Recognise who is doing the work here, on the ground, in front of you, and do not forget them when normalcy threatens again. Recognise also how easily so many everyday, institutional cruelties have been waved away. Remember how unnecessary they are right now, and how unnecessary they’ve kind of always been. This moment is going to force change on us in so many ways, and on multiple levels, I hate it, but I am hoping it will draw us together in ways that will last. I am hoping we will learn how to be better.

I’m on holiday from work this week, and will be working from home as of Monday. Next week, I’m going to begin work on the next round of edits to Last Testament, and plan out a new idea which will inevitably be shaped by the experience of a global pandemic. I’m going to think about how to support my people, many of whom are struggling right now. I’m going to find a routine and keep to it, and keep moving forward however I can. Next week. But for right now, I am giving myself room. I hope you can do the same for yourself, too.