I didn’t intend it to be so, but this blog often has the lowest priority among the things I write, and usually I end up having  more things to write than I have the time for. Still and all, it’s a new year, and I recently moved to New York City, and many things all over the U.S. are changing, so a new post won’t be too amiss.

I finally started editorial work on Letters to Butler, and that means going through about 50 submissions in the space of about a week. I am also trying to write a thesis, a few assignments left over from the last semester, and job applications, so writing is pretty much the only thing I do these days. Sometimes I take a break from writing coordinated things, and write a rambly Facebook post instead. Or vent/document my life in my diary. Or try to plot a random one-shot flash story to write, completely unrelated to my thesis. Guess I am a woman with a limited skill set.

I have a small, warm room, a massive comforter, a well-stocked supermarket next door, and no daytime engagement as of now. These things help.

It has not yet sunk in that I am actually done with classes at Rutgers, and that may have finally been the last time I participated in a classroom as a student. The last semester was breathless. Looking back it feels impossibly long, but I didn’t even notice how fast it flew by, which only speaks for the heavy compression, I suppose. In October, I went to Lenox, MA, and the next week to Columbus, OH for the World Fantasy Convention, where I spoke on three panels and did a solo reading. I entered a new relationship, which following my last experience of a relationship, was (and continues to be) a slow and tentative process of reminding myself how to accept and return love. For every single day that the new relationship doesn’t disintegrate, I consider an achievement unlocked.

I am anxious about the future, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m the sort of person who is always anxious about the future. The very few times in my life when I could clearly see how my next two/three/five/ten years would be, I have discovered myself to be unsettled by the certainty and uncomfortable with it – having everything already in place made me feel walled in. I am hoping this realization about the self is a step in progress, so that I can allow myself to stop feeling anxious about being more anxious than the next person, after all.


Express. Engage. Etcetera.

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