I started out my newsletter on Substack and then quickly realized it wasn’t the place for me. At least not for the purpose of this newsletter, anyway. More on that later, but for now, welcome to In Forced Proximity with me!

So, why this name out of a rose by any other name?

Hint: because it’s sexy. Image from Pinterest.

Well, I fear I may only be able to create relationships in situations of forced proximity. Foundationally speaking, it’s how I made my lifelong friends. My older sister made friends in kindergarten, they had younger sisters my own age and that was that. (And my introverted self is eternally grateful). I only made new friends in middle school because I didn’t end up in any of the same classes as my OG crew and a few people took pity on me enough to take me in. I met my husband because I had to be in a small tattoo shop with him for hours while my sister got tattooed and my stepfather at the time made embarrassing and inappropriate comments. I’ve only made and maintained new friendships into my adulthood because of proximity; neighbors, play groups, writing groups—you get the idea. And so, if you choose to be here with me, it’s sort of a matter of forced proximity. Then of course there’s forcing myself to, you know, talk about myself.

Moreover, I love this trope. It creates this delicious little bubble where you kind of have to get to know someone because otherwise it’s just? Awkward? So you talk and inevitably, you connect on a deeper level, whether you want to or not. And that’s what I want to do here with you.

And while you, I hope, are by no means forcing yourself to be here, I am forcing myself to be open, candid, passionate, a little wild, certainly a bit weird, and to peek out of the geek closet so to speak. So I invite you to share this space with me, spend some time, and hopefully, we’ll come out feeling a little more love than when we entered.

ONLY ONE BED (i.e. the things that make me scream with glee)

I came across this IG Reel and the TL;DR of it is that red lips were considered a feminist statement back during WWII and as a girly who loves a red lip moment, but am sometimes too introverted to rock it, I’m given new life to wear this boldness more often.

Also I need more red lip colors that don’t fade or smudge so gimme all the recs in my comments. Maybe I’ll make it a statement piece (I probably won’t because I’m too lazy for more than mascara most days).

MY SIDE OF THE ROOM

My family and I recently moved into a new home. It’s a fixer upper. It’s a mess. The chaos of moving and renovating is slowly, but surely, driving me completely insane. However, I did indulge myself and get this cozy green velvet couch and I could live here. Like actually eat, sleep, work, literally anything and everything here if I didn’t have, you know, responsibilities. It is now my life’s mission to reduce my responsibility load so that this couch and I can become well and fully acquainted with one another.

CURRENTLY OCCUPIED BY (i.e. the things I’m reading)

I started reading When Women Were Dragons (for obvious reasons, I should hope), but I was crying too much so I had to temporarily cease my actions and binge read the Maid-Sama manga because APPARENTLY YOU CAN GET MANGA ON KINDLE (rip to my wallet ;-;). But the pining, and he falls first and harder trope is peak.

Q&A

Me: It’s question and answer time!

You: Who…sent you questions? Isn’t this your first newsletter?

Me: … I may have come up with a few questions myself. It IS the first newsletter of course and there may be a grand total of three of you here and you likely know the answers to these questions anyway.

You: so…this is filler?

Me: Yeah. It’s totally filler.

You: …

Me: So let’s begin!

Q: “What inspired you to write Steal The Sky?”

Me: I’m so glad you asked. Many eons ago…no. In a world not far from our own. Wait. Let me try again: years ago, I won’t say how many, (but I will say that the first iteration of Steal the Sky was written circa 2015 right after my mom passed away) I was in community college and began taking some women’s history classes sparking my passion for feminism. Fast forward a few years later, I’m in an ancient civilizations course where I learn the truth about the myths of the Amazonian women warriors and I began to wonder – how much power did women have before it was taken from us? This core idea of wanting to write a story where women were powerful beyond what modern women have ever experienced today set the stage for the kind of story and stories I wanted to write. Add in a little dream about floating islands, throw in a dash of dragons and I had the core of my original concept of Steal The Sky. And these three core things have been the only things to remain consistent in every version of this novel. And I’m incredibly proud of what it is today and entirely embarrassed of all the editions that came before this.

Q: “So, you have a four-year-old daughter. That’s pretty crazy. What’s she up to these days?”

Me: All I’ll say is we’ve been listening to “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan on repeat for a week straight and I have no regrets.

Q: “Will this section always be here? I feel like you might run out of content.”

Me: Wow, thanks for the support. As a matter of fact, I don’t know if this section will always be here, but I do have plans to host Q&A sessions with my characters and perhaps other people in the industry if they’d be so kind as to indulge me.

Q: “Do you have any pets?”

Me: Yes. This is Scout, otherwise affectionately known as cow, cowboy, clam cowder, long cat, big boy, micker-man, “ehr-ner-rehr” (it’s how his meows sound – he responds best to this name), and occasionally “Scott” or “scooch” by his close friends. Maybe one day I’ll share how Scout got his name and what we first named him…when we thought he was a girl cat.

We also recently inherited this pup from my father-in-law who passed away earlier last month. His name is Doctor Watson. We’re not sure who Sherlock is, but I have a sneaking suspicion it might be me for how much he follows me around.

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Recess - please give me the strength to calm the fuck down.

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