Hey there!

I’ve been meaning to start a new website for ages, and I finally got around to doing it. All my new posts are moving to, which is much more professional and has a nicer theme. If you don’t want to mess around with a feed aggregator but still want to keep an eye when I post, consider following me on Twitter. I post all my new writing there as it goes up and a lot of other things besides.

Perhaps some day I’ll set up a redirect on this page to point you in the direction of the new stuff, but for now, consider clicking over to the new blog and subscribing there. It’s nicer, I promise. Look at that Instagram widget, that lovely pink link text, the slow fade from white to pink. It’s neat.

Hope to see you there!


Drabble 86 – Minauderie


I never learned how to flirt. Or at least, I don’t think I’ve ever actively tried flirting–it seems difficult. I don’t recognize when I’m being flirted with, either, unless it’s so blatant that it crosses the line from flirtatious to harassment, which drives me far past interested and deep into angry.

It’s a quirk I have to accept about myself. When I think back to all the weird things people have said to me over the years, I now realize that many of them were (bad) attempts at flirting. That guy who practically sat in my lap at a concert and told me we should sleep together? He probably didn’t mean it literally. The girl who winked and gave me her number in case I needed homework help? Probably flirting. That guy who named off bean flavors at the bubble tea place in a silly voice and kept smiling at me? I’m still not convinced on that one, but a friend told me it was flirting and I trust her expertise.

Even though I can’t flirt, or maybe because I can’t flirt, I find it fascinating how changing your tone, the way you move, the words you say, sends an entirely different message, like a language I just can’t speak.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

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Drabble 85 – Iktsuarpok

A good indication that a word might not be real is that, when you google it, all you can find is websites gathering words that can’t be translated into English. That’s definitely the case with today’s word, but it also raises an interesting question–is there such thing as an untranslatable word?

Certainly, we can’t translate iktsuarpok in a single word. We don’t have an equivalent in English. But we certainly have words for the experience; they’re what I use to define it below. The trouble with translation, of course, is that you can never be quite certain that you’ve accurately captured whatever it is. Language is more than just a concrete representation of a thing or abstract idea; there’s connotation and context and tone and all these other things that contribute to our understanding of a word.

To be honest, I know very little about translation other than that I’m forever interested in the way words do and don’t fit together when changing from one language to another. This ongoing question I run into about what is or isn’t a real world is as interesting to me as the words themselves.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

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Drabble 84 – Wight

Sometimes objects in my house rattle. I haven’t yet found a reason to explain this, but every few days a picture frame will shake a bit, or a plant will wobble while I’m working. This might have scared me in the past, but right now I just accept it as a quirk of my house. Objects shake. Floors creak. The blackberry bushes climb the fence. It’s our normal.

The concept of ghosts still scares me, don’t get me wrong. I don’t play with Ouija boards or dare spirits to show themselves, in part because, by daylight hours, I’m a skeptic. But every time an object shakes or I read a horror story at night, I wonder, and wondering is enough to convince me that I don’t need to know everything, actually.

So I’ll let my plants and picture frames keep wobbling. It’s like a little hello from beyond the veil, a reminder that the world is interesting and wide and mysterious.

Anyway, here’s a drabble.

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