Looking for bookbloggers, esp. LGBT+/POC ones for my latest book "Wake the Dead" @ninestarpress-blog​ 

 If anybody has any slots open for submission w/in a year, please either reply here/DM me! 

 Ready to share this campy story w/flying battle pigs, fairy crime lords, and demon queens.

Writing a book can leave an imprint behind. Like the ghost of who you were is frozen in time-- a phantom of words and ink.

From my IndoFairyTale WIP (nonbinary MC x HS rival love interest)

        A figure jogs over from the far end of the school. Plain clothes but carefully made with the stitching and the tiny logos on the sides. I recognize him as his face comes to light. One silver eye, one black. The silver one gleams like starlight in the dull gray of morning.

        He’s not even breaking a sweat.

        The mystery boy who bumped into me and handed me my lost feather earlier, he doesn’t even make eye contact with me as he hands Mr. Morel a note. Mr. Morel takes a quick glance, laughs, and then sticks the note into his pocket to be forgotten until laundry day.

        “Aji Saka!” Mr. Morel claps his hands so loud they boom across the murmuring yard. Aji spins around and I see a few girls, and some guys, glancing nervously his way. He’s handsome, I guess, in that enigmatic newcomer way. Light reflects in vibrant jewel tones off his dark skin. His smile could calm storms at sea.

        Not that I think he’s hot or anything.

        Okay, maybe a little.

I didn't read any of the Twilight Books and now I'm reading Midnight Sun.

That's it. That's the post.

GIF @asamandra

Another day of shamelessly boosting my writing.

In "Wake the Dead" a friendly giant owns a monster-patron diner and flirts with an acne ridden werewolf. It's adorably awkward.

Meet Stace

Today I still woke up proud of my writing. So in my latest book "Wake the Dead". I made the non-binary rep I always wanted.

Someone so cool, they're adopted by the Fae-- who are convinced they're actually one of the Fae bc they're THAT cool.

And they're a badass boxing botanist. They box. They have a battle boar with wings. They love plants-- especially poisonous ones. And are studying for their PhD.

I love when a book feels like a love song.

Like the person telling the story tell in love with from the beginning. Until they had to say goodbye at the end.

But not for forever.

GIF @wallflower103

Love seeing other queer writers making the media we always deserved.

Keep shining stars.

I Think My Writing is Cool! :) (despite a whole ton of self-doubt)

Another day of being proud of my writing.

I wrote “Wake the Dead”. And it’s about a crew of queer monster hunters and monsters who band together to stop a criminal organization run by the Fae. 

It includes non-Western mythology and a kuntilanak (an Indonesian version of a vampire-- type of fairy tales my mother told me) gets her just dessert and has a wonderful, redheaded witch as her girlfriend.

The monsters aren’t monstrous--they’re quite sweet to each other. The only villain is bigotry. And it’s the cute monsters against the world.

Yeah, it’s queer. It’s trans. It’s magical. I’m proud of this punk-music-fueled-magical-murder-mystery.

:) So there.

Catch “Catch Lili Too”, book 1 here and help a queer, nonbinary, disabled Indo artist. Or help reblog and like. Signal those boosts!

GIF from @villainquoteoftheday​

It takes courage to share your stories. The worlds you have inside you.

It takes courage to put your pen to paper and place your soul upon a page and hand it another person to read and say

This is who I am. This is what I've created. See me. Remember my name.

Finished reading a book and cried because I felt I both wanted to be and be friends with this character. Like I got so invested reading about them they left a piece of their soul behind them on MY HEART. Writ in words, forged in fire.

In conclusion. I love books.

GIF by @deseos-de-la-via-lactea

I can read and finish a book in 2 days or 2 months/years. There is no in-between.

Gif @merchemaldonado

Trying to See My Work Differently -- and why Stories Contain Entire Worlds

TW: mention of ED recovery and disability

I’m sure I’m not alone in thinking this. That I am my own worst critic. My own worst doubter. My own worst bully. 

When someone tells me something positive about my work. My stories or my books or my short films or my art. I smile and I thank them, but internally, I’m already staring at the negative comments. 

My brain selectively goes: “ah yes. The compliments cannot be true. The only truth is the one person saying something negative about my art. Because secretly, I am trash. I knew it.”

My worst fears are confirmed, because I’m confirming a low feeling of self-worth. Imposter syndrome, or whatever the proper terminology is for feeling that you are not worth as much as you should be. For believing the world when it tells you that you simply cannot and gives you BS explanations why.

I grew up with an ED that hit its low as a teenager. It impacted my health: mental and physical. My feeling of self-worth related to a number on a scale and my body is much better now. I try to see my body for what it can do, despite any illnesses or disabilities that I’ve been reckoning with lately, and I thank my body for hosting my consciousness. The thing that makes me: me. Recovery isn’t a perfect journey, but it’s better. Accepting my disabilities and working to ease symptoms isn’t perfect-- but it’s better.

I’d like to think my journey with my creations might be similar. In some ways, they are extensions of me, or idealizations or fantasies or what have you. In accepting my body and my disabilities, My gender and sexuality. I accept my outer self. In refusing to accept my creations, my creativity, I am abandoning my inner world that I’ve created.

Like I was at my lowest, when my ED told me that my body was worthless When I struggled with misdiagnosis for my disability and felt hurt and gaslit. I feel that lately, I denigrate my creations and only believe the harshest critiques or outright hatred because, internally, I am not fighting for my creations’ worth. My books. The stories I tell. I ignore the positive messages in favor of the single negative. 

The stories I have to tell are not enough.

Surely, I have no stories to tell...

Do I?

And it’s scary to create. Heck, it’s scary just writing these words now and opening up to the world. But, like I am trying to recover and thank my body for hosting me. To accept my disabilities. I am also fighting to accept that the stories I create, reflections of my inner world no matter if the mirror might be a bit dusty or distorted at times before I polish them or edit them. They are worthy too. My creations give me a canvas on which to write entire worlds.

And that is a worthy thing.

GIF @rotting-cave-fungus​

Lines from my WIP

The wings are gone. She holds a selendang, a colorful scarf draped in gold and fire and images of flowers burning. Thread through a mass of cloth, soft as water to the touch. The shawl bears her aloft higher than the wings ever did.

And, just like a whisper in empty halls, she vanishes.

GIF by @bubblegum-stimboards​