Camp NaNoWriMo 2018

If you follow me on Twitter, you likely already know about my adventures with July 2018’s Camp NaNoWriMo, but I’m going to talk about it anyway! Saturday night (6/03) at around 10:30 PM, fellow Writers of Queer Fiction founder, Amy Nowacoski asked me if I was participating in Camp NaNo. My initial reaction was:


I’d heard of NaNoWriMo–I mean, what writer hasn’t? Okay. I’ll bite. If you haven’t heard of NaNoWriMo, here you go:

Logo of National Novel Writing Month.png

NaNoWriMo is an abbreviation for National Novel Writing Month. It’s every November and it’s free to do. The first session was in July 1999, started by freelance writer Chris Baty. That first year, it had 21 participants all in the San Francisco Bay area. The goal? To write 50,000 words (the accepted standard for a full-length novel) in ONE MONTH. Yeah, writers are masochists, and Baty is our King sadist! In 2000, it was moved to November, where it remained. Why was it moved?

To more fully take advantage of the miserable weather.

According to Therese Walsh, at least. (Yeah okay, cause the Bay area totally has miserable weather. Excuse me as I stare dubiously off to the side.)

Anyway, it has gotten more and more popular and more and more successful each year. Now, it has developed into a full-blown fundraising event! I never had any anticipation of being involved. Please, you expect me to write in ONE month what it takes some authors YEARS to do? I started The Daffodil Witch in late February of 2018. After 4 months, I had JUST reached the 30% mark of my book, and people considered that incredibly fast.

Image result for writeometerThen, I downloaded this app called Writeometer. Allow me to pimp this app out for a second here. It’s available (for now) only on Android (I’m sure there are others out there for you Apple fans). This app allows you to track your writing as you go in an organized, easy-to-read way.

It also has a timer built into it for writing sprints (a writing session, usually 25 minutes or so long, in which a writer blocks out everything and gets as much writing done in one session as possible). I had never done a sprint before, but I was having a hard time getting into the swing of writing, and many days would only get 300 words or so in at a time after about 2 hours of sitting at my computer and instinctively checking Facebook and Twitter while pretending to write.

On June 13th, I downloaded this app and set up my book. From that day on, I did 1-2 sprints almost every single night before bed. I went from 30,000 words to 47,000 words in 12 days. (That’s an average of 1,400 words a day, for those of you, like me, who don’t do math.) I managed to do about 700-1,000 words in each 25-minute sprint!

Now, back to NaNoWriMo. Amy asked me if I was doing it, and I was ready to laugh at her and call her crazy (sorry, Amy, if you’re reading this lol). Then I thought about it and remembered that I had been managing to do up to 2,000 words in just an hour some nights. If I could do that almost every night, I could totally do NaNoWriMo… and I didn’t have to do a new project, at this point I had less than half my book left to write–less than 45,000 words. So, at 11:00 PM (for those of you paying close attention, yes all this thinking happened over the course of a half hour) I decided “fuck it, I’m gonna try it.” (Cover your ears kids!)


SO, I signed up and by Midnight, I was ready to go! Now, Camp NaNoWriMo is kind of like NaNoWriMo Lite. It’s held in both April AND July, and you can set your own goal for this one! I set mine to 45,000 since I don’t need 50,000 more words in my book. I made a cabin (cabins are like chatrooms you sign up for with other writers to offer support and watch each other’s progress) for the Writers of Queer Fiction group. (I will ALWAYS link this group because I encourage people to join!!)

And by the way, if you want to join us, please feel free! If you aren’t on Facebook but would like to join our cabin, comment below with your username and I’ll send an invitation!! We’re hip. We’re cool. Come jam with us.

Aaaaanyway, now that Day 1 is over, I thought I would share my thoughts! I am HUGELY goal and deadline driven. I procrastinate terribly, and then when the deadline is upon me, I kick my ass into gear and GET. SHIT. DONE. So, realizing that NaNo was doable for me, I decided to just go for it. I had originally hoped to finish The Daffodil Witch by the end of the year. Now, I am expecting to have it finished BY THE END OF THIS MONTH. How insane is that?!

So, before I went to bed I told everyone and their mother that I was going to do 5,000 words on day one. Most of them rolled their eyes at me or reminded me that it was okay if I didn’t, but I knew that if I told people I was going to do it, sheer stubbornness and force of will meant I would get it done! I decided to be antisocial all day Sunday and have a whole day filled with sprints and nothing else.


I got up and went on an early-morning 2-mile power walk. While I was on that walk, actually, I got a chance to use the French I am refreshing myself on for TDW when a man from Quebec came to me to ask for directions. His English was shaky, my French was rough, but in the end, we figured it out and I continued on my walk feeling a little proud of myself!

When I got home, I showered, cleaned and sat down by 10:30 AM to write. Over the course of the day, I did NINE sprints. I gave myself a decent break between each one and got things done around the house, ate something, even ran an errand. I promised myself that if I succeeded in meeting my goal, I would go to the Dairy Queen up the street and get myself a Jurassic Chomp (in chocolate because vanilla ice cream is a travesty).

Image may contain: one or more people and eyeglassesWELL, I GOT MY JURASSIC CHOMP, AND IT WAS DAMNED DELICIOUS!! That’s right, at about 9:00 PM I reached 5,337 words!! Took a break to get my ice cream, and while I was there getting it, had a nice Pay It Forward moment.

To preface, it was near on 100 degrees out yesterday. I only have air conditioning in the bedrooms upstairs so it was a bit rough going downstairs for anything. When I went out to get my ice cream, I thought I might die from the heat.

As I stepped into line, I saw an older gentleman in a full suit standing by, mulling through some change in his hand. He let two people cut him in line, then offered the same to me as he continued to count his change. I couldn’t leave him there counting his change in the hot sun, so when I went up to order, I got my ice cream and turned to him and said “and whatever he’s having. I’m buying his ice cream.” His surprised look and appreciative look after was so sweet, and we chatted for a little while as we waited for our ice cream.

I got home in the best mood ever, despite the heat.

By the time I went to bed just before midnight (I did 2 more sprints and then finished off the last few paragraphs of a chapter while I ate my ice cream) I had written 2 full chapters from start to finish, and got in a whopping 7,211 words for the day!

7,211 words, for those of you in the back!

I’m SO happy I decided to join Camp NaNo, and I’m SO excited to see how much I can get done with this motivation! I hope that today I can keep up that momentum and maybe get 3,000 words in, but I won’t hold myself strictly to that number since I do have to work and am going to the gym later. Still, I’ll be super proud of myself if I can do it!!

Thanks for listening to my rambling. Sorry for swearing at you.


Camp NaNoWriMo
Writer’s of Queer Fiction

Love and Support: My Journey toward Motherhood – Dacia M Arnold

I had the amazing opportunity to write up a guest blog post for author Dacia M. Arnold‘s website today! She is an incredible person, and has become a mentor and sister to me on my own journey to becoming an author!

Go check out the article, it’s a first glimpse at my future mommy-to-be blog posts that you’ll see on here. But also, while you’re there, please take some time to check out Dacia’s website and her new book that’s coming out in December, Apparent Power. She’s an incredible writer, and this book is something really unique.

If you like The Hunger Games and Divergent, you’ll like this one–especially if you’re an adult, because in THIS book, the mom saves the world for a change!


via Love and Support: My Journey toward Motherhood – Dacia M Arnold


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Apparent Power

Say Hello to Binx!

I know, right? I’m super original with my black cat named Binx. His name is just a nice little nod to my obsession with Disney, witches, and cats. I have three cats total–Binx, MacKenzie, and Adso. I’m introducing Binx first because he’s my oldest, and the one I adopted first, technically.

Get ready for an intense cat photo-dump, by the way.

541837_10100326156881136_2050421452_nI adopted Binx and MacKenzie together at my local animal shelter when I found my first apartment. My move in date was October 5th, 2013. On September 23rd of that year, I found Binx at a local shelter. His name, at the time, was Shadow, and he was about 6 months old. This is the listing photo they used online for him!

I knew I wanted to adopt two cats because I wanted them to be bonded to one another and to be able to keep each other company (and out of trouble) when I wasn’t home! So, my two sisters, Rebecca (older) and Courtney (younger) and I went to the shelter together. I knew that I wanted a black cat. I have always loved black cats. Growing up, we had two cats. Rebecca had a fluffy grey cat named Gizmo and I had a short-haired black cat named Homeless.

Gizmo’s name should be obvious–we were kids of the 80’s and Gremlins was a favorite. But why Homeless? Well, my Rebecca and I were evil children and when we found him outside as a kitten, we brought him in, fed him, and told our father that “We named him Homeless.” Yep, we emotionally manipulated our poor father into letting us keep the cat, and unfortunately for Homeless, the name stuck.


Anyway, when I met Binx, I knew immediately I had to have him. He was adorable, sleek, and incredibly sweet. The whole time I was in the shelter, he was trying to climb me and never wanted to be put down. He just wanted to be held, and pet nonstop. I, foolishly, thought this was adorable. This was the photo, and caption, I uploaded to Facebook after I adopted him:

Binx 🙂 He is a cuddle bug. I couldn’t get a good picture of him cause every time I put him down, he would jump back up and climb up my skirt for more cuddles.

That same day, I found MacKenzie as well. I’ll tell her story in another post, but obviously, I have to mention her here. She was almost 7 weeks old when I officially adopted her, but since I wasn’t moving into my apartment until October 5th, the shelter kept them until that day. By the time I took her home, she was 9 weeks old. MacKenzie and Binx had not actually met each other at the shelter yet, so the volunteers there were kind enough to do the introductions for me. They quickly bonded to one another.


I went back to visit the cats probably 4 or 5 times in the two weeks between signing papers and actually moving into my apartment. Rebecca came with me and brought her (at the time 2-year-old) son, Jojo. He had a blast playing with the shelter kittens, and quickly fell in love with Binx and Kenzie.

But seriously, how freaking cute is this photo?

Once I took them home (actually Rebecca and Jojo went to the shelter to pick them up for me while I was moving my furniture into the apartment!) they settled in quickly and it was immediately evident that they were in love with each other, and very happy. (Hnggg ❤ ❤ <3)

So, remember how I said that I thought was cute that he was so clingy and cuddly? Well, five years later, he hasn’t outgrown that. In fact, it’s only intensified. I have never in my life met a cat more obsessed with love, affection (and me) in my life! He goes everywhere I go, constantly underfoot and never out of reach. If I somehow manage to sneak out of a room while he is asleep, he’ll wake up, discover that I am missing, and come bolting through the house to find me.

Tried to take a nice selfie with my cat, but when I glanced down to see if he was looking at the camera, he was just STARING AT ME like O___O

All of my clothes have tiny holes in them from his nails (which I trim weekly, btw) because if I don’t stop to pick him up or pet him, he will climb me or jump up into my arms and cling to me with his vise-like death grip. Binx rather quickly clawed his way up from pet, to familiar–with NO respect for personal space.

He LOVES his belly rubs…

Even on the few occasions I let him come outside into the backyard with me, he never strays far and basically follows my every step, stopping occasionally to nibble grass or chase a bug.

He also still LOVES Jojo, and now his little sister Emma. He also loves my newest nephew, 9-month-old Jonathan and lets him pull on his fur and smack him without complaint. (I don’t let him do these things, but let’s be real, he’s a baby and doesn’t understand gentle yet. We’re working on that.) (PS Look at how BIG Jojo is omg…)

Playtime with his FAVORITE toy!


I mean, I think he grows thumbs when I’m not looking because he can open ANY cabinet in the house, any drawer in the house, AND knows how to open non-screw-top tupperware. NO FOOD WILL EVER BE SAFE. I keep EVERYTHING in the fridge, whether it’s a refrigerated item or not lmao.

He also LOVES his cats to death. Yes, his cats. I realized long ago that I don’t actually have three cats–I have one cat, and my cat has two cats. I think my phone photos are 99% Binx cuddling with one or both of his cats.

Oh, did I mention that he drools? Yeah–that’s a thing! Like, BUCKETS. Any time he comes for cuddles (which is relentlessly 24/7), he starts purring like a motorboat and drooling like a faucet–not even a leaky faucet, just a constant stream of slimy cat slobber! He’s lucky I love him, cause gross. He sleeps in bed with me every night. All three of them do, but he sleeps UNDER the covers curled up in my arms every single night, with his face tucked into the crook of my neck, or nestled into my shirt or hair. He kneads my neck or shoulder or face, and I am very thankful that he lets me trim his nails every week without complaint.

I feel like there is a LOT more to say about Binx and how intensely weird and loving he is, but I’m just going to toss a slideshow below with a few more entertaining photos of him. His birthday is March 27th, btw.

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Next week I’ll introduce you to MacKenzie! ❤


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Pride & Prejudice : Scene I

DISCLAIMER: This story will contain NSFW scenes and situations, including male/male sexual situations and strong themes of BDSM. This story is available on my patreon:

Co-Conspirator: SushiOwl

Rainbows and Fishnets

Victor had been watching him now for the last ten minutes from the large window, four stories up over Boylston Street. He stared through the reflection of his black and gray suit in the window, simply enjoying the view. The unleased office around him was silent, though the whistles, music, and cheering form the parade below could be clearly heard even through the thick glass. The boy—or, perhaps young man was a better term, as he was clearly fully grown—was walking in the parade behind an impressive float filled with drag queens and men in various states of undress, decorated with rainbows and tutus.

He was laughing, Victor could tell even from this high up by the way he threw his head back carelessly. His black hair was too long and left loose and wavy, falling into his eyes often enough that he seemed to be continually brushing it back out of his face. He was dancing to the music playing on the float, with a bunch of shiny, plastic bead necklaces thrown over one arm. He tossed them into the watching crowd and sometimes hurried to a group of people with their arms outstretched to hand them each a necklace.

People grabbed him, groped him, pulled him in for hugs. He hardly seemed to mind any of it. He was dazzling.

Of course, part of that was due to the rainbow that had been painted on his bare stomach and chest in glitter bodypaint. It ran from the waistband of his very-short shorts and curved across toned but barely-there abs and chest, over one shoulder and onto his back, where it broke up into a pattern of swirls. It was blinding in the sunlight, but the colors of the rainbow were clear. The unpainted part of his skin seemed to glitter as well, though Victor could not tell if it was from glitter or rhinestones that so many people seemed to have glued to themselves for the celebration.

Even his legs glittered, from what looked to be fishnet stockings with rhinestones on them. He wore knee-high rainbows-striped socks and bright red sneakers. He should have looked ridiculous, but today he blended in with the crowd. Victor wasn’t even sure what it was about the boy—young man, he had to get out of that habit, not everyone younger than him was a ‘boy’—that drew his attention, but he hadn’t been able to stop watching him in the slow progress of the parade from the moment he laid eyes on him. For a moment, he was riveted by a brief fantasy of that body glitter covering the sheets of his bed.

Victor was pulled from his thoughts when he rainbow-painted boy stopped suddenly in front of an especially raucous crowd of young men. He seemed to be studying something on one of their shirts, though Victor could not see what it was from this angle. Then, his walking fantasy smiled, kissed the young man standing in front of him on the mouth and threw a string of red beads over his head before hurrying off to catch up with his float.

Victor felt the corner of his mouth quirk up in amusement at the way the young man’s friends cheered and jostled his shoulders, even as he covered his face with embarrassment. Recently out and celebrating his first Pride Festival, Victor assumed. “Cute,” he muttered to no one in particular. He shook his head and let his eyes roam the street for the object of his earlier attention.

The boy—yes boy, damn it—was already halfway down Boylston Street now, coming up to The Rattlesnake Bar. Victor glanced down at his watch and swore softly. He couldn’t linger here any longer. He grabbed his duffel bag and left the empty office.


Enjoying the story so far? Leave a comment below to let me know!

Here is “Step 1” for writing a novel

What Inspires Your Writing?

Learn more about TimI know you can see it in your mind: a published book with your name on the cover. Readers crowding in to be a part of your book signing event.

But right now, that novel is just a bunch of ideas bouncing around in your head.

So how do you get from here…to there?

Start with your Daily Action Calendar, which is available to you when you join our online writing group, the (brand new) Better Writers Club!

Think of your Daily Action Calendar as a straight line from where you are now to the virtual shelves of Amazon, and even your local bookstore.

Every day, your Calendar gives you one simple action you can take to move forward on your novel. No more wondering what you’re supposed to be doing and when, while feeling more and more overwhelmed and then losing motivation altogether.

As time goes on…

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Exclusive Cover Reveal: The Meaning of Birds by Jaye Robin Brown!


Please excuse me while I go full fangirl, but if you’ve spent any time asking for recs on the LGBTQReads Tumblr, you know that Georgia Peaches and Other Forbidden Fruit falls out of my mouth about twelve times a day. So how psyched am I to be revealing the cover of Jaye Robin Brown‘s next f/f YA, The Meaning of Birds, which releases on April 16, 2019?? (Very. Is that not obvious? I’m sorry, I thought it was obvious.) Here’s the story behind the story:

Ever since her father’s death, Jessica has struggled with the anger building inside her. And being one of the only out teens in school hadn’t helped matters. But come sophomore year, all that changes when effervescent Vivi crashes into her life. As their relationship blossoms, Vivi not only helps Jess deal with her pain, she also encourages her to embrace her talent…

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Grief and Internet Anonymity

Tonight was a bad night.

I have been keeping fish for about 14 years now. It all started with a free goldfish that I won at a college orientation event. A bowl became a 10-gallon tank, and then a 29-gallon tank when I did my research and learned about the actual needs of a goldfish. A couple of years later, my goldfish, Hyacinth, died.

I was devastated.

I know, you’re rolling your eyes and saying “It’s just a fish.” But, he wasn’t just a fish. I had spent countless hours researching and caring for this fish. I had done everything I could to make sure his habitat was perfect and that he was healthy, so his death was a blow.

Of course, eventually, I recovered and decided to try my hand at tropical fish keeping. Within a year, I had a beautiful live-planted tropical aquarium running with a beta fish, some schooling fish, and my first pleco (after an algae incident.) He was a bristlenose pleco, only an inch long, and the ugliest thing I had ever seen in my life.

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My 29-gallon tank

Bristlenose plecos are smaller than the 2-foot-long common plecos people are familiar with. They only grow to somewhere between 6-8 inches long and eat algae and driftwood. You can see the driftwood in the photo above, though my pleco is hiding in it, as he often did during the day.

Image result for bristlenose plecos

Male bristlenose plecos live up to their names and grow horrifying-looking bristles on their face as they reach maturity. Females do not grow bristles, however.

Their average life-span is about 12 years, so they can live for quite a while. Though I was not particularly attached to my own pleco at first, after he began to develop his bristles (and I got over how terrifying they looked) I actually really grew to love him the best. He quickly became my favorite fish, and was the only fish in the tank, aside from my beta fish, who was given a name. I named him Davey Jones, and called him Jonesy for short. Even my mother, who hated my fish tank, loved Jonesy and would sneak him treats of cucumber or zucchini when I wasn’t home.

When I moved out of my parents’ house 5 years ago, I upgraded from a 29-gallon tank to a 55-gallon tank. Jonesy came with me, along with a few other fish and all my plants and driftwood. As of today, I have had the same community going (Jonesy being the only original fish) for the past 11 or 12 years.

Tonight, after getting home from a long shitty day, (I spent 4 hours sitting around in a car dealership and left with no car. :|) I went into the living room to feed the fish and found Jonesy dead on the floor of the tank.

Of course, I was upset. My heart broke for my uniquely ugly pet fish whom I’d had for my entire adult life (I bought him when I was twenty! Please don’t do math right now).

After recovering from the initial shock of finding him, and realizing that he likely died of old age and nothing I did, I carefully scooped him up, wrapped his body and disposed of him. I kept my composure. I was sad, but he was an old fish and I took great care of him.

When I went back to the tank to feed the rest of my fish, a thought that has been nagging at the back of my head for about the last year-and-a-half or two years came back. I ought to sell my set up. I had considered it before buying the house–it has been getting hard to keep up with maintenance as my life has gotten more and more hectic, and I have slowly begun to lose my love of fishkeeping.

Adding on top  of that my workload, and the fact that I am hoping to have a baby by this time next year (I know I haven’t written anything about that yet–it’s coming!), I realized it was probably best for the fish and myself if I sold the whole set-up to someone who had the time and the energy needed to take care of a tank this size. The one thing that had been holding me back for the last year was Jonesy and how attached I was to him.

I took to Facebook and posted in a fishkeeping group about my loss and explained that I was considering selling the whole set up for reasons a, b, c and x.

At first, people were kind and offered condolences and advice on selling my set up. Some complimented me on the beauty of my tank, others suggested bringing the last few fish to a fish store and selling off the set up piece-by-piece.

Then, someone commented saying that I was a disgusting person for giving up my aquarium in exchange for a “human brat.” This someone was some rando 20-year-old kid, so I really didn’t care about his opinion and told him so. Then, it escalated. Women with children began to shame me and rub in my face that they had children AND fish tanks. Men commented saying how many kids they had and pointed out that THEY never gave up THEIR fish.

I was annoyed and hurt. I didn’t owe them an explanation. I reported the comments to group admins and tagged admins but after over an hour, none of them had done anything. The comments continued to escalate. A few people defended me, but they got worse and worse. I was called a “shit person” a “whore” and told to kill myself.

Now, as a woman, I get comments like this every day on Facebook. MANY women do. Usually, I report the idiot and move on. Tonight, it hurt though. Tonight, I was grieving for the loss of a beloved pet, and looking for advice, and I was told instead that I would be a shitty mother and that I should just kill myself.

Why do people think it’s okay to say things like that to other people? The anonymity of the internet, even if you are using a Facebook account with your real name and photo, makes people into monsters. No administrator in the group did anything to stop this, and in the end, I deleted the post and left the group like a coward.

Now, I’m exhausted from a bad day, upset over the death of my favorite fish, and feeling hollow inside because I ran away from the onslaught of insults being thrown at me instead of facing them and standing my ground. I feel like a failure, even though logically I know that I am not and I know that what these random people on the internet have to say doesn’t matter.

Still, it hurts. Especially when I am feeling like crap already because my pet died–it hurts. I didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.

It’s one thing to get into a flame-war with someone on Facebook. Many of us are guilty of it–I am guilty of it. But I have never told someone to go kill themselves. I have never stooped to bullying someone for no reason other than the fact that I could, and they could do nothing about it.

Bullying is nothing new–and neither is internet bullying. This month alone, Star Wars star Kelly Marie Tran deleted social media accounts because people were bullying and harassing her so much that she felt she had no other choice. Stranger Things star Millie Bobby Brown deactivated her Twitter after so-called fans made a slew of homophobic memes (during PRIDE MONTH) using her photos. The world is fucked up.


Anyway, I’m sorry that this post is a downer, but I felt like I had to get it off my chest somehow. I’ve been crying for the past two hours and I’m not even sure why. I’ll be fine in the morning, I’m sure–but tonight my heart is aching and my ego has been struck a solid blow.


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Boston Pride Festival and Representation

Let me start this off by apologizing! I had intended on writing this blog ON Saturday after the Pride Festival but got into a car accident (mild fender bender!) on my way home. After that my whole evening was shot, and Sami and I opted to drop in on my parents’ house to use their hot tub (which was awesome!) to soothe our aching legs. After that, I got caught up in sewing commissions, and writing Chapter 11 of The Daffodil Witch! (It’s here, go read it!! But after you read this haha.)


ANYWAY, Boston Pride! Let me tell you all about it and how AMAZING it was!


untitled1.pngLeading up to pride, I knew that I didn’t want to just show up, watch the parade, and be done with it! I wanted to leave an impact somehow, even if it was only on a few people. A few years ago my father took me to NYC for New York Pride while on a business trip and I had dyed a rainbow streak into my hair in anticipation of it!

This year, I wanted to do something more and really make an effort. I wanted to be involved somehow, but it was too late to organize anything big!

I ordered myself an awesome ace pride pin (which I have been wearing every day since), did my nails in the ace flag colors, and made a rainbow flower crown to start!


Was that enough? Nope! I also ordered a bunch of mini rainbow flags and a roll of 500 heart pride stickers to hand out to people! THOSE were a huge hit! You would be amazed at how excited people got over the stickers. Even on the train into the city before Pride started, I ended up hanging out stickers!


Look at Sami, isn’t she cute? That brings me to our awesome outfits. Sami is a huge Star Wars nerd and had only JUST come out as a demisexual lesbian after a long time of questioning. She decided to rock her pride and ended up buying a really awesome pin while we were there!


I went into the city with Sami and Brendan, who is part of what I refer to affectionately as my ‘game night crew,’ a tight-knit group of friends who I see weekly for games and what we deem real-talks (I’ll talk more about that in another blog post! But we talk about some pretty serious topics and are all very close.) Brendan is not queer, but he was the one who wanted most to go to Boston Pride. He’s the best sort of ally you could want!


How fabulous are we?! And yes, Brendan IS doing the same pose in both photos. He’s a great ally and a great friend, but also a huge dork. See my skirt?! I struggled at first with the decision on my skirt. I knew I would make something festive, but I originally figured I would make a rainbow skirt to be super festive! Then it dawned on me that I could actually represent MYSELF as an ace at Boston Pride instead of just going in with the classic rainbow. I took to Facebook, and overwhelmingly, my friends suggested I go with the ace colors.

You can’t tell here, but each fabric is SUPER glittery, and Sami’s fishnets are covered in rhinestones. We like to be seen from space. If you ask either of us what our favorite color is, the answer will be, without hesitation: glitter!


OKAY so, on to the parade itself!


Once we got into the city, it was a sea of rainbows, pink and glitter! We really couldn’t stop smiling and looking around. Rainbows were plastered in business windows, and flags were EVERYWHERE. It was an amazing feeling for me, as someone who has been out as queer almost my entire life–a feeling of being at home, of being safe, of being loved and included: a feeling of recognition. I can’t even imagine what Sami was feeling. Up until that moment, she had really only come out to maybe one or two people, and even when she came out to me it had been with the question of “am I allowed to identify as a lesbian if I dated a guy for so long?”

We ran into lots of awesome people we know, which was great! Took plenty of selfies. The first person we saw was our friend Danielle. Danielle is a wonderful specimen who somehow manages to show up everywhere at everything, and I run into her no matter where I go–EVEN IF IT IS IN A DIFFERENT STATE. We also saw my friend Lyndsey, who was representing fabulously in a Katsuki Yuri from YURI ON ICE! cosplay. Both of them walked in the parade (which we had planned to do until we got distracted by the lure of Starbucks coffee! Whoops!) Shortly after the parade started, we were joined by my friend Emmy, her younger sister and her friend Jennifer, who twinned with her in Wonder Woman regalia! (Don’t they look great?!)


The parade was amazing, of course! There was lots of free swag! Sami even got me this AWESOME Aladdin magnet, which I adore with every fiber of my being. (In case you don’t know, Aladdin is my FAVORITE Disney movie and always has been!)


The parade itself was LONG, as to be expected. I tried to take as many photos as I possibly could (I am not a photographer, and am used to not taking photos ever at events because I get immersed in them.) My phone died after a few hours and I wasn’t able to take as many as I would have liked, but here is just a bunch of them in a slideshow for you:


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Yes, I had a BLAST. I loved the parade. I screamed so much I was sure I would lose my voice. I saw SO many flags and so much diversity… but I noticed that ONE thing was missing: I didn’t see a single ace flag in the entire parade. Did this ruin my experience? Not at all, I still had an amazing time–but it did stick with me that I didn’t see Black, Grey, White, Purple anywhere in the parade, and it made it that much more poignant that I had decided to wear my own flag to proudly represent asexuals.


The whole day, my companions and I were inactively on the lookout for more ace flags. We saw maybe three total the whole day, and I’m sure those people bought them ahead of time and brought them with them.  This is why I am so happy I wore my ace colors rather than only rainbow.

I had at least fifteen instances where someone came up to me and thanked me for wearing the ace colors, or complimented me on my skirt and pointed out that they, too, were ace! I WISH my phone had not died, for I would have taken a selfie with every one of them to share with you. Alas, all I can do is share those moments that stuck out to me the most.

One girl I had noticed was lingering with her friends behind us outside of Starbucks as we watched the parade. They weren’t standing WITH the parade onlookers, but up against the building. I had noticed a few times that they were looking at me, and thought maybe they wanted a sticker. Before I could offer one, I was distracted by friends joining us.

Maybe a half hour into the parade, one of the girls stepped over and tapped my shoulder.

“I love your skirt,” she said. Her voice was weak and quiet, and I could tell she was shy.

I offered her a big smile and thanked her. Then she showed me the small, ace-flag earrings she wore and the ace-flag nail polish she had done and smiled shyly at me. I think she was probably in her teens. She was small, shy, and intimidated looking. I told her they were awesome, gave her and all her friends stickers. Then I saw a look in her eye and knew that she was going to cry. I hugged her tightly, and she held on for a while.

Even as I’m writing this, I’m tearing up myself. I don’t think she expected to see ace representation at the parade. Asexual erasure is a real problem–with the queer AND straight community. I touched on this before in my Pride Month post. We are made to feel like we don’t exist like we aren’t valid. I hope that this moment, for her, was an eye-opener. I hope she feels valid now, because I am sure by the way she cried and was afraid at first to look me in the eye that she was not at all confident in herself.

This happened over and over throughout the day. I got hugs, I was thanked, I had people scream “I LOVE YOUR SKIRT!” over the crowds of people when they couldn’t get close enough. People showed me their small, and sometimes hidden, ace memorabilia. One girl who had to have been 13 if she was a day ran up to me with wide eyes, took my hands and said. “You are beautiful!”

I was overwhelmed by her.

Image result for ace pride

Next year, I am already planning to attend pride again, but I want to REALLY make a difference this time. I want to register in the parade and form a group of asexual and demisexual people to walk with. I want us to fly our flags proudly, to wear our flags, to carry signs that remind everyone that WE EXIST and WE ARE VALID.

Sami was also inspired by pride. She wants to organize a cosplay group to walk in the parade for next year–and has even made a group on Facebook (a global group) for LGBTQ+ Cosplayers! She wanted to create a safe place for queer cosplayers to gather, network, chat and share! Check it out!

Thank you to everyone who came to me to show their appreciation for my representation. Thank you for making my Boston Pride experience so memorable!


Sami’s Links
LGBTQ+ Cosplayers

Lyndsey’s Links



Workshop Wednesdays


Today is what we call Workshop Wednesdays in my writing group on Facebook, Writers of Queer Fiction. I created this group along with fellow authors Claerie Kavanaugh and Amy Nowacoski.

We made this group after coming together in a Beta Reader’s group on Facebook, discussing how it was difficult to find an active group for LGBT+ writers or writers who write with LGBT+ characters and themes. Now, of course, there are lots of amazing writers groups on facebook! I am in quite a few of them, and utilize them all! But, sometimes you need to ask serious questions about representation, sensitivity, or, dare I say it, sex–and you don’t want to be mocked by Joe Schmoe in that group with 50k+ members in it.

That is where  Writers of Queer Fiction comes in! We offer a safe place to ask these questions. We are a group for writers and readers. That’s right–you don’t have to be a writer to join! If you are just an avid reader, or someone who can offer valuable feedback to the writers in this group, we will welcome you with open arms! We have been active for about three weeks now, and have already formed friendships! We share funny stories, queer experiences, sad stories. We comfort each other and offer support and advice for those who seek it!

Every Wednesday, we come together to do a group workshop for one randomly selected writer! So far, the workshops have gone swimmingly! Aspiring M/M romance author Grayson Bell even tweeted about his experience with the workshop:

Reading that made my heart soar. I am excited to be able to help other writers in this way and to form these wonderful relationships with other blossoming talents! We have a really amazing array of talent in the group too–from LGBT+ children’s book writers to romance writers, mystery writers and even a fair share of erotica!

Basically what I am trying to say here is: COME JOIN US! We are awesome and what better time to join a new queer family than Pride Month!?

*** Join Writers of Queer Fiction ***


(Have I linked it enough times? Lol)