☕️ In a dystopian megapolis, an underground café run by the enigmatic Barista serves karmic espressos, illicit tomato sandwiches, and the occasional life epiphany. But when her ex walks in, the past she buried threatens to unravel everything she’s built. #QueerPit #D #SF #A

THE HEART DEVOURER’S SONG is an #ownvoices story that brings together the romance amidst brutality of THE SERPENT AND THE WINGS OF NIGHT by Carissa Broadbent, and the lush, Asian-inspired fantasy of IMMORTAL by Sue Lynn Tan. #QueerPit #A #FR #F

#queerpit #FR #A UNMAKING PERCY "Percy belonged to that noble breed of people for whom resentment aged like a fine wine." 🔮 chosen one isn't actually the chosen one 🏰 epic high fantasy 💚 queer romance 🧚‍♂️ subverted fairytale tropes

LEGENDS AND LATTES X MIDNIGHT DINER X BLADE RUNNER ☕️ Karmic coffee. Illegal tomatoes. And an ex who still looks way too good in leather. Welcome to the underground café where redemption comes with oat milk foam. #QueerPit #SF #D (cozy dystopia—you read that right!) #A

They say write what you love. They also say write to market. I split the difference. I wrote what I love, but she’s wearing a marketable dress and false lashes and she’s not above stabbing someone in the back room of a palace.💅🏻🔪

Just sent something off to someone I deeply admire, and now I will go sit in a beam of sunlight like a cursed doll waiting to be loved. 🕯️🧸📮

shoutout to the writers who keep going even when their inbox is a graveyard and hope feels embarrassing. you are built different.

“Canadian poetry—not actually written in maple syrup! Not entirely about beavers!” In a reading slump? Try these poets from up north.

me: i’m done being vulnerable online also me: anyway here’s a book i bled for and now i’m offering it up like a sacrificial lamb to the inbox of someone who might not even open it😌

the worst part of querying isn’t the silence it’s how easily I start to believe it means I never existed in the first place 🫩

Propaganda I’m not falling for: black coffee

writing is weird because sometimes you think you’re building a plot and then realize, oh. I’m just making a place to grieve.

Describe your WIP like it’s a local urban legend. I’ll go first: They say if you hear her singing in the pit, it’s already too late.

just a girl standing in front of a crypt asking it to open slightly (for atmosphere. not trauma.)

listen, the typos are proof that I wrote it myself 😁

I'd feel real weird about the closet, the bathtub, under the bed. I'd check and check again and bolt the door and double-check the window panes and reassure myself that the rising sense of unease was just my anxiety. But I'd completely miss the thing clinging to the ceiling. #HorrorWritersChat

The wallpaper is floral, and the petals keep moving. Not in an obvious way. Just… breathing. #HorrorWritersChat

ngl that was me this week #amwriting or, precisely, not

I’m Aria Mora, from Québec. I write slow-burn horror about things you wish you hadn’t remembered. My stories involve grief, trauma, and women who don’t stop singing even after they’re gone. #HorrorWritersChat

my WIP has: – grief – soft girls with sharp secrets – music that kills (Tchaikovsky is the GOAT and I’ll die on this hill, beautifully) – a secret cellar that rewrites itself it’s fine. everything’s fine.

trying this again bc i need mutuals who like • ghost stories • unhinged girls with secrets • chronic illness rep • books that ruin your week in a good way i’m aria, i write vibes and grief and thriller horror. let’s be friends?

Writing is weird because it’s all: “Don’t write what’s trendy.” “But also don’t be too different.” “But also we want something fresh.” “But also not that fresh.” Anyway. I’m querying. If you dare.

Me: “This book isn’t even that personal.” Also me, crying into a mug of peppermint tea at 2am: “They don’t *survive* each other, do they?”