I was hard-pressed to keep up with the days. How many of them had blurred and coalesced, colliding details jumbling in memory? I could not say. They ran together with repetition, like the #blatant attempt of one who would' pilfer meaning as well as time. Oh, I will break the clock face. #vss365

Cruel Jack treated everyone with hostility and suspicion, so that no one understood what Jill saw in him, aside from his generous physical endowments. When she overlooked his #beastly blows they cried Shame! People blamed her even more than him. Then they got canceled—eventually both died. #vss365

In time to the calling of the dove, I struck the longest note in the song of life. Sustained, as far as it would carry. And though #mystified by the gathering night, a love was born in the absence of sight—for a coda. Then, in the hour of the clearing mists, I humbly waited for the sun. #vss365

The baby is drooling. He takes my hands to stand on my lap and do the #bouncy - bouncy game. I understand how after a few weeks of this, his leg muscles will be strong enough for him to stand on his own and take his first steps. How amazing is that? #vss365

Book Two's a done deal. Wrap party in progress. ✨ If you hurry, there's buffalo wings.

A summer dog, basking in the sun of a #mountainous region, waits for its master, who has left him behind. He does not understand why the man will not return. There is no one to feed or water him; his domestication is tragic, and being so remote, no one will leave his statue on this spot. #vss365

Here is a bucket of ice for you xraylitmag.com/justin-isis-...

Cottony clouds under a straight razor contrail the neighbor sings as she hangs laundry Construction drilling in the distance The birdsong of late winter I don't know why, but the moment feels #enchanted. The ordinary vaults over some invisible threshold and quietly earns its sublimity. #vss365

Monday...

She sang the Diminium song, and the problem became #miniscule, ineffectual. She could have sung the Eradicum, but this was dangerous. The songs were potent, not to be misused—nor were voids allowed to stand. She took a breath, and the Burgeonat filled the continuum with opportunity. #vss365

No room in this train. Our knees #kiss, and we watch the landscape whizzing and changing from verdant wet to beige dry until the seaview fills our window. We stop. Sight gives way to sound. Seagulls cry and lime-colored parrots squawk, and people speak in a tongue we don't know. Salobreña. #vss365

this great story by Kai Broach is about meeting Julia Fishwell over & over & over...but Julia Fishwell is a different person every time. i think this story will stick with u throughout the day & get u daydreaming about yr own Julia Fishwell. read this ! xraylitmag.com/julia-fishwe...

We close out Furor Scribendi Book 2 with a heroic rescue and surprise capitulation. 🔥 You'll never guess who. 😆 Next week, you're invited to the wrap party! 🎉

What a terrible #lacuna yawned before him, when he realized he was not the person he set out to be. Inside that breach, he asked not for forgiveness but understanding. Failure would not be failure if it served him. He saw himself, as if for the first time, and made peace with who he was. #vss365

ICYMI: Building readership and safeguarding trust in books in an era of creator-led media and information overload emerged as central themes at the #IPG 2026 Spring Conference 👇 #BookSky

In the graveyard of my studio, a half finished painting sits in the #dark. I avoid looking at it on my way to the kitchen. I keep the studio door closed. 'When will I finish this' is a frequent question. I have done two others, and written a novel and three novellas in the meantime. Damn. #vss365

The civil alert system went off in every cellphone in Catalunya today in preparation for the 100-kilometer winds tomorrow. Schools and libraries will be closed! 🌬️💨🍃

He felt out of #touch, and it was true, he had turned away from the endless background chatter that admittedly served no purpose. It made not a whit of difference who dominated the daily discourse, and that made him feel isolated. Till he found folk like himself, resuscitated and curious. #vss365

substack.com/home/post/p-... This is 🧨🧨‼️

The problem is far bigger than Jeffrey Epstein | Rebecca Solnit www.theguardian.com/commentisfre...

Have a horror piece~my first!~coming out on Endless Static. Here's what the cover letter said. 😂

i love this story by Miklós Vámos ! it's about a group of carp in a crowded fish tank, dreaming of getting out to the idyllic world beyond (where they will suffocate & be eaten) translated from Hungarian by Ági Bori @agiborimottern.bsky.social a wonderful story ! xraylitmag.com/fish-on-the-...

A hollow space marks where an #ache once was. The suffering is over, and you, suffused with a sensation of peace, the healing itself forgotten. Yet a memory of pain secretly converts to a fear of its return, and this too is overlooked for now. It will return someday, rampant and unpitying. #vss365

It would come to this, forever: the world creaking, its #bones shaking, the prophets dancing with the skeletons of ideas no one fed. Make no mistake, we are going out ignominiously if we do not find something real to respect. It should start with home, with self, but debasement is easier. #vss365

My pale hands, once baptised in salt and spray, Now clutch at dust; O what a fool was I To think God’s temple stood in fields of clay! The sea was Scripture writ with giving eye: Lord, drown my pride, let me by the sea lie. #vss365

is it real? that thing that used be your head turned half-pipe now home to guilt and shame doing anchor grinds and carving grooves in your skull while their #pale sister runs her hands along your thighs how will you know until you crack open the heart whether it is alive or dead #vss365

ICYMI: Liza Marshall of Hera Pictures, the film producer of Maggie O’Farrell’s novel Hamnet (Tinder Press), has secured the screen rights to Land (Tinder Press) 👇 #BookSky

There, a #pale bauble, a color-drained world gives us pause, struggling to recover a joy we only feel when balance tips back in favor of the deep red of pomegranates. When the kind gesture and the unstudied remark give us something to smile about, and not telegraph as a strategy. #vss365

It is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong, said a man with #blood dripping down the side of his skull. He was quoting Voltaire, but the ICE droog didn't care. He didn't know Voltaire, and was too young to remember the song, "Don't Argue", Cabaret Voltaire. #vss365

If it was your intention to #wound me, neither blunt words nor sharp looks suffice. You, who inspire no fear, no admiration, hold no candle to the people I love. You and your pale face, contorted in rage, puppet of your muse of hatred, have no agency here. Your sham power impresses no one. #vss365

There, the #lambent filigree clinging to the rocks waved greenly in the ocean surf so far from the surface. My clunky apparatus cleanly signaling a non-native vulnerability, my intrusiveness. But above, I would carry my allegiance to the down below; I vowed this to ferns and fish alike. #vss365

Chapter 5 is live. 🔥 Someone woke up on the wrong side of the dais. 🐉 open.substack.com/pub/camilaha...

Two more chapters left in the current serial, 'Furor Scribendi, Book Two.' Next up: 'THE WRECK DIVER.' It starts in March and will run through til May, only on Substack. Details to follow! 💦 🌬️⛵🌊

Was it not— This shape and shade, familiar, and yet unknown, an outline, a puff of air, cold to the touch—was it? No. Yes, a #ghost. The form of something passed but not gone. There, not seen but felt, and trapped, and so wanting, a deficit, so needing. It is pure desire unhoused, unwept. #vss365

#vss365 in that graveyard of desire among the broken bodies of fragile thoughts and tortured hands forming a bridge that lead nowhere i felt you even though you have the softest footprints where you can touch and not be felt you are that gentle curve that #pain of fading

Naproxen for the #pain. Not that kind. —Bourbon, Coke. Not that kind. -—Chocolate, Sex. Not that kind. Hmm, this is beyond my expertise, beyond my understanding, but it doesn't surprise me. You were always complicated. You named me Dolores; means pains. You baked it into my life. #vss365

Interesting typeface from the 1930s. "Woolen, diapers, and women's undergarments."

Of the #soul, one demands proof, existence being a thing seen or felt. Who has not been in a soulless place? Who has not felt the chill in one who moves no heart to exclaim, The animating fire sits high on the brow of this shining one? Yet, we disbelieve, and so drain the world of color. #vss365

The hardtracing of shadows raked across the table. It held things together, but imprisoned my thoughts in their consequences. Cocktail conundrums. You can rebel all you want, but when seized by a #shadow the tables turn on you, and the room spins. What was once solid laughs in your face. #vss365

Finishing the 6th chapter of 'The Wreck Diver' 🔥 Chapter one drops in one month. Tonight I start the series cover illustrations in watercolor. Very psyched. 😍

Nothing is as it was, my dear friend. Estranged, your voice can no longer #soothe me where I sit remembering you. The city is much changed, taking itself out of context to amuse the tourists, moonwalking to Billy Jean, our fav places erased. Were you to return, we could start over fresh. #vss365

A little quote from chapter 3 of Furor Scribendi book 2, "Dangerous Liaisons."

Aryballos (made of glass). Blue oil container, yellow and turquoise zigzags. Found near Olympia, Greece, 6th - 4th B.C. Oil or perfume flask, glass, 7.2 cm high, at the J Paul Getty Museum. #bookshelves #writingcommunity #GettyMuseum #amreading #amwriting #CircleOfPeace #AnUnexpectedAlly #booksky

Illustration from Walter Crane's Painting Book, London, 1889. #booksky #artsky

⭐ In #GeorgeEliot's Middlemarch, every major character is stuck in a labyrinth, the labyrinth of Middlemarch... and they keep getting lost and taking the wrong turns. #SecretLifeOfBooks #BookSky

The long-distance train clacked across the frozen tracks, with a speed that made the joy #thrum in her chest. Away. As far as she could stretch her belief in freedom she would go. Go and go and not return to the room with the cracked ceiling, her way of tuning in the music of her soul. #vss365

Furor Scribendi Book 2 · Part 4 Stuart's laid up, Furor falls down, and the Murkmaid's tries to avert catastrophe. 🔥 It's here.

When the #quiver was empty, the dagger blunt, his sword arm undone, he mounted an orphaned horse and took the mountain road that led away from the dying. From the heights he surveyed the field where his life was extinguished. He continued upwards forever grateful, forever chastened, forever. #vss365