Month: October 2015

Not dead

Hello all. I realized I last updated this blog over a month ago, and I wanted to offer reassurances (if anyone was wondering) that I am actually doing rather well. Life is by no means perfect, but I’ve been adjusting to a new rhythm of things. My husband has a new job, thus a new work schedule; I’ve changed my own schedule, too, though less to line up with his and more to attempt a different angle of attack on my depression and energy problems. I’m trying to find the sweet spot between “waking up so early that my delayed sleep phase prevents me from achieving cognitive functionality” and “waking up so late that my seasonal affective disorder kicks into overdrive from the loss of sunlight.” So far, it might be working, but I’m not sure. In any case, a lot more is afoot than simply this challenge, so my attention has been pulled away from writing here. Speaking of writing, I’m doing a lot of things writing-related:

  • I’ve made some sporadic but satisfying progress in my new short story.
  • I’m partway through arranging a private reading for Frankenstein, and I’m getting very excited about how that will go.
  • As I’ve already announced on social media, I’m serving as a guest editor for The Offing‘s first Trans Issue, which will feature work entirely by trans people, curated by trans people. The issue will probably be released pretty soon, and when it does, I will obviously put a link here. I was very honored to receive the invitation for this role, and you should check out the magazine in general; a non-profit arm of the L.A. Review of Books, they largely exist to center traditionally marginalized voices across all genres and types of prose and verse. And they are actively invested in paying their contributors, guest editors, and staff a more-than-nominal amount! What a novel concept. (To help them achieve this goal, please consider donating to their fundraiser.)

That’s an intensely summarized telling of my life as it stands. My best and wickedest wishes to all of you as All Hallows’ draws near.

DLJ