Before I begin this month’s newsletter, I want to take a moment to celebrate a couple things.
First, happy 13th wedding anniversary to my husband, Armando. I love you! Thank you for loving all of me. Yes, we got married on Friday the 13th, and our first date was on a Friday the 13th. It’s safe to say 13 is our lucky number.
I’m also incredibly proud of myself for showing up with these newsletters for an entire year. When I first thought about doing this, it felt like something I needed to do. I kept hearing from the writing community: If you want to be an author, you need to write a newsletter.
When I started, I wasn’t really sure where I was going with them, but they’ve become one of my favorite things to write. I love how they’ve evolved, and I’m excited to see where they go over the next year.
Thank you to everyone who reads my work, whether you’ve been with me since I started this journey or you’re reading today for the first time. I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you for embracing all the weird little pieces of me I share here.
From the Shadows
I have a bad habit of turning everything I love into a goal. I optimize everything. I build rigid routines, track my progress, and hunt for proof that I’m getting better.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’m an ambitious person. I like challenging myself. But lately I’ve been wondering if somewhere along the way, I forgot how to play.
Most of my weekdays look exactly the same. Wake up. Work out. Work. Come home. Eat dinner. Then I have maybe one or two hours left to do whatever I want before going to sleep and doing it all over again. Except even those two hours somehow need to become productive, or else I feel lazy. A hobby becomes another goal. Something to improve. Something to track. Something that must provide value.
Suddenly, the thing that was supposed to bring me joy starts to feel a lot like work. I either start to avoid it and then beat myself up over that, or work so hard at it that I end up burning out.
That is the weird space I’m living in right now. Writing has started to feel like work I don’t always enjoy, and I’m burnt out from the hustle of it all. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still showing up for my baby, my novel, but I haven’t been able to play and experiment with short stories.
I’m just now having the realization that my whimsy and sense of play have slowly been locked away somewhere deep inside my soul as grief, anxiety, stress, and the fear of being seen have taken over.
But I can feel her in the dark, pounding on the cage, begging to be released.
She wants to chop her hair off and finally get the bangs she’s always wanted. She wants to dress up and go out to dinner for no reason at all. She wants to paint birdhouses and put them up around the garden. She wants to dance in the middle of the kitchen, singing at the top of her lungs.
She wants to follow her curiosity and let her imagination run wild. Maybe she’ll even write that story about the bird watcher one day without worrying about whether it’s too weird or what people will think. Or finish the anxiety themed carnival short story. She wants to step into her childlike mind and embrace that sense of wonder again.
She desperately wants to add more color to her life and be free. To allow herself to sometimes do something for the pure joy of it. To break out of the mold she seems to always fold back into and reach for whimsy every day, in all parts of her life, including writing.
The whimsy I’m chasing isn’t a curated look or an aesthetic you can buy at a store. It’s something I want to weave into the way I live. It’s choosing to leave room for wonder in the routine and following curiosity even when fear tells me not to. It’s having unserious, magical moments every day.
I don’t want to stop being ambitious or chasing the big scary goals that matter to me. That’s part of who I am too. I just think it’s time I leave the cage door open and let the other parts of me come out to play.
The Monster Grows | Inside Draft Two
Over the past month, I’ve rewritten two and a half more chapters. And although I know this book will need a lot more rounds of revision, I can feel the story coming to life. I may even feel comfortable letting one or two people read the second draft. Maybe.
I know that I’ve grown as a writer over the past year and a half, but I still have a pretty large taste gap and can be incredibly hard on myself. This is a consistent battle I have between my ears that I’m not sure how to win. All I can do is keep writing and reading.
But sometimes my lack of confidence can bleed into how consistently I show up. This past month was a bit of a roller coaster, to be honest. There were several days where I was excited to write and had those lost track of time writing sessions. Those usually happened at the library.
On the flip side, there were a few times I straight-up convinced myself not to write, aka self sabotage. And other times, I forced myself to write. I’d set an hour timer and just show up. It didn’t matter what the word count was. I just had to spend some time with my book. Sometimes that looked like rereading the last chapter I wrote, outlining the next, journaling, or working on more character development. The point of those sessions was to keep reminding my brain that this book matters.
There’s been a lot going on this year for me, and I have to keep reminding myself that it’s okay if it takes me a while to finish this book. Sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough. I’ve always been an ambitious and curious woman, so when I’m doing the bare minimum, my soul knows it. Things just feel off for me, and I can get pretty down on myself.
My husband did remind me that I am writing a book. That’s pretty ambitious in itself. I needed that reminder. Thanks babe!
There are going to be seasons of life where I’m full of motivation and excited to show up and write every day. There are seasons where I want to play and experiment. Write weird little stories and follow ideas just because I’m curious where they’ll take me. I’ve had those seasons before, and I know I’ll have them again. But right now, I’m in a slower season. One where I have to be okay with showing up a few times a week and slowly chipping away at the book. All of those seasons matter and help me grow as a writer in different ways.
I’ve always been a go, go, go and onto the next type of person. But writing a book has humbled me and is forcing me to learn patience and focus when chasing a huge goal.
For right now, I will call this my slow but steady season. As long as I keep showing up, I’ll be okay.
A Bloom of Terror
Every month, I’ll plant a little horror here. Sometimes it will be a short fiction story, other times personal essays.
The Haunted Shelf 📚🎬📺
This is where I’ll share book, movie, and show recommendations. I’d love to know what you’re reading and watching, so feel free to reply with your own favorites.
📚 The Book
Dead of Summer by Ryan La Sala is a YA queer zombie horror novel. It takes place on an island run by drag queens and follows a young man named Ollie, who is returning home after being away with his mom while she went through treatment for cancer.
And then, after only a day of Ollie being back home, things get weird. A plague from the ocean starts turning people into Weepers, aka coral-mutated zombies that are responsive to music. It’s weird, campy, and was such a fun read. I also loved the mixed formats and how the story jumps back and forth between timelines.
This is usually not a genre I gravitate toward, but I’m so happy I took a chance on this book. I read it in a week, only to be disappointed (in a good way) at the end because I was left with a fun twist, a cliffhanger, and the realization that I have to wait an entire year for the second book to be released. 😭
🎬 The Movie
A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors is one of my favorites of the franchise. This is the one where a group of institutionalized teenagers team up with Nancy to fight Freddy, the dream demon. They each harness their own unique superpowers in their dreams to take him on.
I loved the use of childlike imagination here and how it gets twisted and turned into dark, theatrical Freddy kills. It’s weird and whimsical in the most fucked-up way possible. The dream world has no rules, so things can get incredibly creative and completely unhinged. 😂
Fun fact: I’ve watched this entire franchise several times because it’s my husband’s favorite. I used to be terrified of Freddy as a teenager, but I’ve grown to love him and have such an appreciation for the creativity of it all.
It really is true when people say everything we create has been influenced by something that came before. Without even realizing it at the time, elements of this franchise definitely crept in and influenced parts of my own book.
🎬 The Movie
I Saw the TV Glow is a very whimsical, weird, beautiful, and heartbreaking story about identity. It follows a young, awkward teenager named Owen who bonds with an older student, Maddy, over a late-night TV show called The Pink Opaque.
The show is very 90s nostalgic and filled with childlike, whimsical imagery, like an ice cream cone monster and a supervillain named Mr. Melancholy with psychic powers. It kind of reminds me of Power Rangers. The movie itself is very surreal, and about halfway through, the characters’ reality starts to fracture and you aren’t quite sure what’s real anymore.
This is a movie I will never forget because, boy, did it get me in my feels. The symbolism and deeper meaning of the movie are really about living inside a body and a mold that doesn’t feel right. Some are brave enough to embrace who they truly are, while others suppress it their entire lives, living inside a cage made by the norms of society. If you haven’t seen this movie, I highly recommend it. It’s such a beautiful, heartbreaking movie with an important message.
🎬 The Movie
Notable mention: Buddy. My husband, son, and I just got back from seeing this movie, and it was such a fun watch. Without giving away any spoilers, it’s set in a very nostalgic 90s kids show with Barney meets Pee-wee’s Playhouse vibes. The practical effects were amazing and whimsical as hell. Highly recommend it.
From My Creative Crypt
This is my little corner for fun extras.
If there’s one thing about my house, it’s that it has a lot of character. I’ve gone through many phases where I tried to decorate and make everything feel appropriate for almost forty-year-olds. I’d watch all the home renovation shows and want to copy what they had because, apparently, that meant I was a responsible adult. Well, I call BS on that.
I think your home should be a reflection of you, and you should decorate it in a way that brings you joy. Here is a little glimpse inside our weird and whimsical house.
The Last Whisper
Thank you for making it all the way to the end of my haunted little newsletter. If you enjoyed it, I’d love if you replied back, shared it with a friend, or just let me know what you’re reading and watching. Your support means the world to me as I start this author journey.
Before I go, here is your reminder:
Not everything you do has to be productive, impressive, or lead somewhere. Do something simply because it brings you joy. Follow the weird idea. Make something without worrying if it’s good. Let yourself play. Be colorful and loud and silly.
Live a little. Live a lot. (iykyk)
We could all use a little more whimsy.
Happy 13 Years!!! I love you 😘