What’s up? Today we’re hosting a panel of writers to talk about all things online lit, everything you ever wanted to know about online lit but were too afraid to ask.

This post was Hanna’s idea, and I helped bring it to life. It seems like a great fit as part of my ongoing series of live documentations about online lit and all of it’s intracacies. Thanks for stopping by, I hope you enjoy this panel!

If you are new here, please consider subscribing. It’s free, and I promise not to flood your inbox. I’m pretty easy-going. Honest.

Now I’d like you all to give a warm Talk About It welcome to The Authoritative, Indispensable, Essential, and Definitive Online Lit Guide.

THE Authoritative, Indispensable, Essential, and Definitive ONLINE LIT GUIDE

Welcome to the panel! Please tell us a little bit about yourself.

Alexandra:

Hi! I’m Alexandra Naughton, and this is my blog. I also have a website.

Travis:

Hey hey, my name is Travis Shosa. To keep things mostly brief, I’m a writer from Texas with experience in journalism who over the past year plus has re-embraced writing creatively after putting it on the backburner for a very long time. Last year was the first time I attempted to publish any of my creative work after talking myself out of it for years and it’s been a great opportunity to turn myself into a bit of a yes man in many more ways as well. The result is I now have an online journal and a reading series and I’ve been published in some cool spots and I might be traveling to your city to read to you in a bar. I’d say my poetry is very heavy emotional bloodletting stuff and my fiction is more dry absurdist satire, though it all essentially comes from the same place underneath the presentation. Oh, also I’m really into professional wrestling, punk music, tokusatsu, and my favorite food is sushi. One year I dressed up as Po from Teletubbies for Halloween, and I’ve recently gotten really into claw machines and collecting scars on my hands. All of this feels really important to mention.

Hanna:

Hi! I’m Hanna and I’m from Baltimore. The first poem I remember writing was about the leaves changing color and the last poem I wrote was a Villanelle about cosmetic dermatology for my writing workshop that will never see the light of day. Poetry has always been my mainstay but recently I’ve also tried out some longer form prose and even autofiction, which sounds like a salacious act so I usually keep that to myself. I think largely I’d call my work accessible and depending on the day I see that as an asset or a limitation. I return to Billy Collins, Suze Kay, Tracy K. Smith, and Ewen Glass with great regularity. I have trouble resisting the siren call of internal rhymes. Offline I’m mom to an equally wonderful and impish two year old who I love sooooo much even when she’s lukewarm on me (often). Other than that, you’re liable to run into me on the mean streets of south and southeast Baltimore, at happy hour, or moonlighting as the best damn tour caboose the local preservation society has ever had.

J.L:

J.L. Moultrie is a writer from Detroit. He hasn’t been the same since encountering Hart Crane, Ovid and Richard Wright. He’s the author of the poetry collection Cairn.

When did you first become acquainted with online lit, and how did you find it/what brought you there?

Alexandra:

I found out about alt lit back in 2012, through someone I was dating at the time who introduced me to the Facebook group Alt Lit Gossip, and some online literary mags from that era like Metazen, Internet Poetry, and HTML Giant. I have been writing online since 2003 (at least) and started making my own literary zine in 2010, but I feel like this community in its current incarnation is pretty unique, and I am glad that it exists.

Hanna:

I’m not sure I’ve heard of a dumber path to “online lit” than mine. I’ve written poems since I was a kid, but I genuinely didn’t know a publishing world existed outside of, like, The New Yorker until sometime in 2024. I was at a beloved Baltimore dive bar one night when I saw a cool sticker in the bathroom that said simply, “BRUISER,” a term my family commonly uses when someone is less than graceful. When I went back a few months later I saw it again and googled it, hoping to buy one for my siblings. In doing so, I learned this BRUISER was a local, seemingly very indie literary magazine: who knew? Over the next few months, I sporadically returned to BRUISER, just sort of dropping in to read here and there. Through the horrors of modern living, my twitter algorithm eventually picked up on that and started serving me tweets from other small lit mags. I finally got the nerve up to submit my first piece in 2025 and the rest was history – though I still have not actually submitted to BRUISER.

J.L.:

I created a twitter account back in 2020, after I had my first poems published. I was not as active as I am now and did not know about the online lit community. I had a job in a factory that took up most of my days, so my life was defined by this underlying rift between finances and creative expression. I eventually walked away from the job and decided to dedicate all of my free time towards immersing myself in literature and honing my craft. I began sharing more of my work and promoting it through social media. Engagement was very scarce during this period, but I kept writing through everything.

Travis:

Early-2025, I was growing increasingly bitter about music journalism, which is essentially what I’d abandoned my own creative pursuits for. I love music, and I love thinking about music, but the actual practice of pitching, the culture, it was all just growing increasingly apparent that I hated the workflow and I wasn’t clicking with most of the people. At a really low mental point, I had a friend who was lending an ear about some personal things when I didn’t really have one, and she’d just been posting song lyrics and occasionally poems. And despite looking down on poetry for a while, it seemed like the right avenue to address those feelings, and a lot of other unaddressed shit. I’d been aware of Maudlin House and BRUISER before I started writing creatively again, and I was lucky to place some work there early, after I wrote my first real batch of poems in late-March of last year.

What are your long term and short term goals for publishing?

Alexandra:

Short term, I need to finish edits on my novel and also put finishing touches on this new poetry collection and figure out where I want to send it. Long term, I want to find a way to get myself and others paid for the work that we do.

Travis:

Right now, I’ve got a loose 3-year-plan to complete and publish three manuscripts: a novel-in-mostly-flash, a poetry collection, and a “proper” novel. The first two I’d love to get out at respected small presses, and the novel will likely be my Hail Mary to see if I can get one of those mythical big money book deals. Past that, it’s getting the work out there at places I like so people can read it. It’s nice to break into new journals, but the most important part is being happy with the work. Second is actually sharing it.

Hanna:

For me, entering this world has only been about accountability - I have no desire at this point to work toward a book. I used to write constantly but fell out of anything close to a practice a few years back and was looking for some kind of external pressure to apply to that. When I happened ass-backwards into online lit, my only goal was to submit one poem, not even to have it published, and that’s still kind of my ethos. I use submissions to clear my pile and then I write more or edit older stuff and move them out again. It’s simple, but it works for what I want out of it.

J.L.:

I just want to write things that excite me and I believe are good. Honing the craft of literature or any art is a lifelong task and I feel I’m just scratching the surface of what I want to accomplish. I get the most enjoyment from having a fresh idea and witnessing it unfold in real time. Being published, I feel, is a byproduct of immersing myself fully in literature. I don’t take anything for granted and love if anything I write helps others on whatever their current journey is.

How do you find magazines to submit work to? Are you a reader of those magazines?

Alexandra:

When I see a friend get published in a magazine that has a cool aesthetic, that’s typically what drives me to check out the magazine and feel out if I’d be a good fit. I am not sure if I’ve ever submitted to a magazine that I hadn’t previously read (unless I got solicited).

Travis:

I’m on Twitter a good bit, so I’ll scour around to see where writers I follow publish. Past that, I do look at the directories: Chillsubs and Duotrope. I don’t send anywhere unless I read it at least a little, or, if it’s brand new, I’m very excited about the editorial or the premise. Inaugurating HAWKEYE was my one real blind shot. No idea who runs it. But I like M*A*S*H. That’s worked out well. Great spot. Some places I obviously read more than others. I follow BRUISER and The Bulb Region obsessively, and I do my best to keep on top of things elsewhere.

Hanna:

So far it’s really only been twitter. I didn’t make a writing account until after my first piece was published with Corporeal Lit Mag last summer, then, having no idea what to do next, I literally just blind followed the first fifty or so people the Corporeal account followed, then whoever was recommended to me based on that so on and so forth (sorry if you got a random request from me in June 2025, it was a weird time). But it worked out since I got an immediate look at not just mags publishing work and posting calls, but also where other authors were submitting. In terms of where I submit after having been “in” (loose term) for the last year, I tend to only submit to places I already read. Much of that is due to a fear of wasting the editors’ time, but I also want a deep understanding of where I’m sending out to before I do so.

J.L.:

I used to use Duptrope and Chill Subs a lot, but now, if I’m reading a mag and connect with their ethos, then I”ll submit. I read the magazines I submit to, some more than others. Twitter has been vital in how I navigate the submission process and decide which magazines to read and submit to.

What are your best practices for submitting your work?

Alexandra:

I honestly hate submitting. I dread it. I hate getting rejected, and I think that fear keeps me from sending out my work with the frequency of some of my more published peers. The HAD calls are fun and can be a good generative exercise, and even though I’ve submitted to them more times than I’ve been accepted it feels fine and normal. Like, I don’t expect to get selected. The one time I did get accepted I was like, ah yeah, that’s sick. Sometimes I’ll see a call for submissions posted on Instagram or Twitter or whatever and if it sounds like a good fit for me, I’ll go through my files of unpublished, recently composed work and see if I have something, or I’ll sit down and start to write something new specifically for the call. I like that. My best advice is to just be chill and try to make it work and if it doesn’t then at least you have a new piece to continue tinkering with.

Travis:

I submit slowly, for the most part. Like, I don’t really shotgun a piece out there, but I also don’t like the idea of letting something I’m confident in languish in a queue for half a year or longer. When I’m happy with something, I’ll usually send it to 1-3 places with reasonable turn times that I think could be good fits. If none of those land, I’ll send to 2-3 more places, and if that fails, I’ll usually revisit the piece. There’s a push and pull between overthinking a poem or story and rushing it out. I used to overthink and it’s caused me to scrap a lot of work from when I was younger that had potential. With this round, I’m a little more “you be the judge,” as long as I’m mostly happy.

Hanna:

I kind of feel like no one should follow my current practice for submitting. I’m a slow writer, so my submission process follows that same curve. If you’ve received a submission in your inbox from me (all ten of you!) I’ve usually thought about that submission for a good few months beforehand, and God knows how long I’ve thought on the piece itself before that. It might be self-limiting, in a way, but I prefer feeling like I’ve really considered what I have out there. I also never simultaneously submit, too much admin!

J.L.:

I think it’s up to each individual to determine their best path. Creative writing is such an unpredictable practice, so submitting will be unique for everyone. I make sure to read the mag’s submission guidelines and at least a few pieces from their archive from different time periods if they’ve been around for some time. My best practice for submitting is to not overthink the process and trust yourself.

What mistakes have you made that you want to warn others about?

Alexandra:

Years ago, I made the mistake of trusting someone with my work who I definitely should not have trusted. He did not have my best interests at heart and left me and my project hanging. I was also very naive and didn’t really understand what was transpiring, so idk. Do your research, talk to their previously published authors and ask what their experience was like, and if things seem chill make sure you have a contract to read and sign.

Travis:

If you were to ask certain people, it’s that I’ve likely burned a couple bridges! But it’s also not something I’m overly concerned about. There’s a place for what you do and how you conduct business, it’s just about finding it. I don’t really regret any of my publications. Some will see small tweaks in books, but that’s an entirely normal practice. I feel like I’ve made a billion mistakes in my life and I’m sure I’ll make some big blunders in online lit, but I feel lucky and content with how things have gone.

Hanna:

When I get into something my urge is to devour it whole, so when I was very early days I took some recommendations on places and people to read and I REALLY went down the rabbit hole. I think I was trying to get my arms around the landscape of a world I was very unfamiliar with, but in retrospect I wish I’d gone about that from a place of curiosity rather than research, mainly because I didn’t come across much that resembled my own work. This isn’t to say I didn’t benefit from and truly enjoy what I read – some of the people I deep dived on are still among my favorites, Travis was one of them! – but I ended up thinking there wasn’t a place for how I write and got really down on myself for a while. I didn’t submit again for eight months after my first piece came out. I think feeling intimidated was always going to happen and is ongoing, but there’s such a lovely, wide world out here.

J.L.:

I kind of wish I’d started submitting poems sooner than I did. I overthought the whole thing and, as is common with many young writers, lacked confidence in my own writing. At the same time, I wish I’d been more patient with the whole thing. I also wish I’d made an effort to read more international poets during those formative years.

How do you engage in community?

Alexandra:

I have an online magazine called Be About It Press, I run a daytime, outdoor reading series in Philadelphia called Bring a Blanket, I produce an annual multi-day free alternative to AWP called A Writers Party, and I show up for friends and peers by going to their events, reading their work, and sharing it. I also blog about online lit on this little substack called Talk About It.

Travis:

I started a reading series! It’s called Dodo Eraser. They’re basically just monthly Zoom hangouts but people seem to like them. Such a vain origin, I wanted to open mic at Eva Alter’s launch for her Autocartographies chapbook but it got cut short and my solution was just to start my own series so I could read when I wanted to, get practice, etc. But I’ve also been very lucky to read tons and tons of great work from other writers, and we don’t always get the opportunity to really engage with each other’s actual voices. Not everyone lives in a big literary hub, and there are some great online series like Night Light, Lo-fi Lit, and Troublemaker Firestarter. But I just felt that maybe there was an opportunity to add something that tries to bring people into the space to a larger degree, when they might not have thought to do so themselves. I don’t do sign-up forms for these, I always ask for who I want and I think that keeps things personal and it lets writers know that I’m actively thinking about them. I always love putting together a little virtual bill with a few established names alongside brand new ones. Having our last reading feature the first full sets by Raniya Chowdhury and Christian Fuller–who blew people away–is something I take a lot of pride in. And somehow, I’m now doing these in-person in Baltimore and Chicago after running them out of my media room in Spring, Texas. Also, Dodo Eraser is a lit mag. I do need to keep better on top of that part…

Hanna:

After literally hiding in a corner at an AWP event in Baltimore this past March, I’ve been trying to put myself out there a bit more. I make light out of happening “ass-backwards” into things, but that approach has continued to net some great results in this world. Namely and most recently, the summer workshop I got hooked up with completely by accident. I was pretty intimidated by the syllabus (and, frankly, my cohort) at first but I’ve ended up incredibly grateful I took the leap. I couldn’t ask for better people to learn from and I’m so excited to do critiques in the next few weeks - I love working hard for people in that regard.

In that same vein, I also recently had the opportunity to do a manuscript review for a writer whose work I was pretty smitten with before they even reached out. It felt like such an honor to be asked that I was thrilled to hit it as hard as I could and I learned a ton doing it. I’m still moving in this world in small ways, but I think that’s why these little acts of community feel really special.

J.L:

To engage with community, I do readings in person and over zoom. I also participate as a part of an audience. Being a part of online lit has given me an opportunity to connect with others and goof around. I mostly repost friends’ work on twitter or any writing that impacts me. I just began posting an ‘interaction circle’ and making silly lists that I feel increases comradery.

What is your experience in forging friendships through online lit?

Alexandra:

I love it. Since 2012, nearly all of my friendships have come about by meeting people through alt lit/online lit. The thing to remember, if you are shy, or feel like you might be an awkward person like I envision myself to be (I have been told that I am not as awkward as I think I am), is that we are all writers and all of us are a little weird with introverted tendencies and everyone is probably nicer than they appear to be. I mean, some people also just suck, but most people are kind even if their online persona is offputting. If you admire someone’s work, just tell them. It’s a nice thing to hear and everyone should get their flowers while they can appreciate them.

Travis:

It’s honestly been really, really nice. I don’t want to harp too much on the music journalism thing, and I think people know I don’t love everyone in online lit. But overall, the energy is just so much higher, almost everyone is so passionate about what they’re doing and it’s infectious. I’m typing this up from Chicago because I have a reading at the Whistler tomorrow. I’ve never been to Chicago. Online lit is why I’m here, to read my silly words in a bar and hangout with my internet friends.

Hanna:

My fellow summer workshoppers have quickly felt very important to me “online friend” wise. They’re all unbelievably smart and plugged in but also genuinely supportive and kind, I feel very fortunate to have a little sounding board and hype crew in that group. On the parasocial side of things (twitter), I’ve also found people to be overwhelmingly kind as well - I definitely have a few little online buds, silly as that sounds. On the local scene I have some work to do, but I *might deliver Jameson Draper some hydrangeas from my garden next week, so let’s start there. (**as of publishing the heatwave got to my hydrangeas. Sorry, Jameson!).

J.L.:

I’ve met a handful people in online lit that I consider friends. In each case, it happened organically and we bond over mutual interests such as music, poetry, novels or films.

Is it alt lit? Or online lit?

Alexandra:

The oldheads are alt lit. Online lit is this new wave. It’s all the same thing though.

Travis:

Online. We’ve been calling it online in the questions and I know that there are publications and writers in this broader space who would not feel the alt lit label is appropriate. Maybe alt lit is a subsect of it. Whereas if we’re writing lit online… it’s online lit.

Hanna:

Don’t play games with me, kid.

J.L.:

I refer to it as online lit. Alt lit is, I feel, derived from the genre of alt rock (which i love). I just feel that the title “online lit” is a bit less constricting.

When, if at all, do you let someone read your work before you decide it’s ready to share? How do you know when your work is done, i.e. publishable?

Alexandra:

It depends, but sometimes when it feels done enough is when I might decide to share it with a friend or two (or a writing workshop) to get some feedback.

Travis:

When I think I’m happy with something, I actually historically have my aunt read it. She’s very smart but she’s more science, as a reader she’s more what you’d consider the average reader. She does enjoy Douglas Adams and Kurt Vonnegut though, which incidentally works out I think. I can go pretty weird and knotty with some of my symbolic systems, and I think it’s really valuable to have someone “outside” of all this bring you just a touch back down to earth, without stifling you. Additionally, I’ll send things on occasion to peers to look at, even if I’m mostly insular. Exception is a new peer I’ve been very happy to exchange work with.

Hanna:

I typically sit on things for a good long while before I let someone else read them. I started school on an opera scholarship and when I was singing I never felt confident until I could get a piece stuck in my head because it let me hear where I was weak – that’s how I move with poems as well. I don’t really consider something done until I can recite it from memory, even my long stuff. Once I have that, my first reader is always my best friend because I know she’ll be honest with me. If she likes it, I’ll occasionally also send things to another friend who’s better on the true copyediting side of things - they’ll also punch up my lineation which I always need – and after that I start deciding where to shop it, the aforementioned several months process. Slow and steady, baby.

J.L.:

Knowing when to leave a piece alone and let it be is the hardest job of an artist. I’m fairly private when I’m in the middle of something. I only share publishable work with one or two people. I think being cautious and using your judgement will make things more manageable, especially early on.

How do you write your bios? What information do you think is important to include? Do you switch up your bio depending on the venue?

Alexandra:

I have a standard bio that gets altered slightly depending on what I have going on at the moment. One I’m using now is: Alexandra Naughton is a writer, publisher, and literary events producer based in Philadelphia. Her third novel, Fake Company, is forthcoming from Maudlin House. But sometimes I like to do a fun one, if that seems to be the vibe of the publication. Alexandra Naughton gets ‘er done. Or whatever.

Travis:

I use my bio to flaunt my massive ego. Kidding. Kinda. I do get satisfaction out of credentials “escalating” like it’s a little minigame. But the primary point is to actually tell people where they can find your stuff if they like it. I usually do a braggart’s bio. That said, my two biggest hubs are Maudlin House (where I can’t update it) and BRUISER (no bio). It doesn’t really matter. I do joke bios occasionally when I feel like being fun. But usually I’m really boring and unfun and lame and I want to remind you my haiku string was nominated for a Pushcart.

Hanna:

I think of bios like bumper stickers, in a way: an opportunity to say something without speaking, whether that’s through something legitimate or goofy. Lately I’ve tried to tread that line, but I do like when people get a little silly with it. While I’m here I also want to remind you that Travis’ haiku string was nominated for a pushcart.

J.L.:

I’ve tweaked it over the years, but always making it more concise and to the point. Early on, it felt like I had to compress my writing life up to that point in a few sentences. This was just me overthinking. I’ve settled on a bio in recent years, but like any vocation, it’s all very much a work-in-progress.

What do you think of the online lit discourse machine? Are we all seeing the same conversations take place on Twitter/Substack/Instagram/wherever else writers convene?

Alexandra:

I don’t mind the discourse machine. The topics are always changing. Some of the topics that become widespread discussions can be really interesting. A lot of the time I don’t care about whatever discourse is happening online and the good thing about it is that I can choose to ignore it or engage with it if I want. I think it’s funny when people rage out about the discourse being annoying or stupid because, yes it very often is, but also who cares? I also feel sheltered, specifically on Twitter, from non-online lit discourse. On earlier iterations of Twitter, I would see more general “book people” discourse happening regularly, like hot takes from people who care about what larger publication outfits and the writers with mainstream cultural currency are doing, and that was almost always annoying, but the algorithm has since changed so I really don’t know what those people are talking about these days, although sometimes I get a glimpse of it when I log onto the Substack mobile app and scroll the feed there.

Travis:

It’s a very broad sort of question. I think discussion is often fun, although sometimes I wonder if we take silly things too seriously and serious things not seriously enough. Sometimes I’ll see a bit of discourse that probably seems pretty silly on the surface but has some more consequential subtext. I’m running out of time where I can still call myself new now, my rookie year has just closed out. But I think there have been a lot of shifts even just in the past year or so. Publications like Burial Magazine, Michigan City Review of Books, Some Words last year, The Bulb Region, Plague Circus Press, electric pink, and GONZOID this year have led a sort of online publishing influx in the spaces in which a lot of the people who might be reading this operate. There’s a pull toward publishing democratization which I largely think is healthy, but I’ve also seen some places that have AI guidelines or some absurd gimmick with no real credentials or followthrough. Conor Hultman and Mai Bell’s Loser project has been a fascinating social experiment that’s extending beyond the publication itself and into an influx of copycats and spintakes. I could sit here and say that a lot of them aren’t well thought out and will likely die out in a calendar year, I could be very cynical and say that. I’m saying that. Other people are saying it. I’m sure if it’s not already tired and played out, it will be soon. But also, I think the level of discourse we have right now, as silly as it often is, or misplaced, is representative of energy. It’s so uncool for people to admit that they actually give a shit, right? But you can always tell when people do. I think people here give a shit. I think keeping that in mind even when it annoys me or even pisses me off helps me stay invested too.

Hanna:

I would say 99% of the time I’ve completely missed the inciting event – be it LOSER or the hot literati or whatever – but there’s something really interesting about piecing together the zeitgeist of the week through response alone. I’ve never used social media in a discourse-based way but “lit twitter” has been a real education in the “backlash to the backlash” of it all. In general I feel I have nothing meaningful to add to any of it, so I don’t. I can also never really tell if people are truly annoyed or just reacting, but I always want to take people in good faith. It’s funny to read Travis’s response right above mine, because I think it’s such an asset to care and be willing to say so and I do think that might be missing from the conversations that I see. But in the limited way anyone can understand anything, I guess the short answer to “what I think of the discourse” tends to be: “how nice, everyone participating.”

J.L.:

I think any discourse is healthy which facilitates an honest exchange of ideas and experiences. The latest is the emergence of Loser by Conor HUltman and Mai Bell. I’m hopeful for the future of literature and its surrounding community. This is how arts and literacy movements have been formed historically. I find thinking about the bigger picture of what this - concentrated creative expression- could all possibly mean to future generations.

ONLINE LIT 101: GLOSSARY OF TERMS

SUBMITTING

Simultaneous submission: when a piece or packet of pieces is submitted to more than one venue at the same time in the hope of being published. If a simultaneous submission is accepted at a publication and you want to move forward with that publication, it is best practice to email and withdraw the submission from the other submitted venues as soon as possible. Not all magazines accept simultaneous submissions and tracking/ admin of simultaneous submissions is the responsibility of the author.

[Hanna: (hissing)]

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Submission guidelines: read these before submitting! They will tell you what a publication is expecting with regard to the cover letter, formatting of your document, word count, topic, etc. If a mag’s submission guidelines are sparse, you can sometimes find more information on chillsubs or duotrope but community is also a good option - a quick email or DM might clear up questions that would otherwise hinder your submission.

_______

Form rejection: a standard generic rejection sent by a publication to decline a piece. Typically this is not meant to discourage a writer from submitting again.

_____

Tiered rejection: A non-standard rejection meant to indicate that, while the editor or publication is going to pass on the piece submitted, they are interested in reading more.

[Alexandra: a personalized rejection? I honestly don’t know the difference and this isn’t something I care much about. A rejection is a rejection and unless some helpful feedback, or an invitation to submit something a little different (as in, “we don’t normally post silent film reviews but we love your style and we’re looking for someone to review the new Nolan movie if you’re interested”), is included it doesn’t seem like an important distinction to make in my opinion!]

[Travis: gonna push back — this kinda matters. Yes, you still didn’t get your piece picked up but if an editor takes the time to tell you that they enjoyed your work when they normally don’t do that, it can be valuable information when sending work to that editor again. Reading work on the site is a good way to try to feel out what an editor might like, but you can’t really just copy a writer’s style and hope that works. Learning what types of stories or poems you write that work for an editor is valuable. And depending on a publication’s schedule, a tiered rejection would be an acceptance otherwise and can let you know the piece is worth staying confident in. I’ve also gotten tiered rejections from guest editors that lead to being published on their own sites, tiered rejections that lead to social media follows from editors at respected sites, etc. Also as someone who is on both ends, I’ve rejected very good work that simply doesn’t fit my publication, and when I do, I usually like to make it clear that not being a fit does not necessarily mean “there is something wrong with this you need to fix.” And some of that work has landed entirely or essentially unchanged in some very solid places.]

[Hanna: we are become discourse machine.]

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Open call: An invitation to send whatever, but check the publication’s guidelines to make sure you still conform to what they’re “open” to (i.e. - if a mag’s guidelines say they don’t accept pieces over 5k words, an open call doesn’t mean a 6k word story is acceptable).

[Hanna: I heard there’s an open call in Avee Chaudhuri’s forthcoming “Shedgirl.”]

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Themed call: There is a prompt, vibe, or subject that a piece must conform to in order to submit, or a general theme that the magazine is hoping to publish an issue or series on. You can go through your work to see if you have a completed piece that may fit the call, but it can be a fun challenge to write something new for the occasion. For reference, HAD and Moss Puppy Magazine run regular themed calls.

[Alexandra: The first ten years of Be About It zine were all themed calls!]

[Travis: I don’t have anything to argue here, I just want to say themed calls are fun but they drive me nuts. This is a personal problem, I just want you to know.]

[Hanna: who doesn’t love a constraint? I want the next HAD call to be “Robert’s Rules of Order” themed.]

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Packet: A small selection of previously unpublished short works submitted in a single document to a publication. An editor may choose to publish one, all, or a selection of the packet. As the author, if you’d like your packet to only be accepted in full, you should indicate that to the editor during submission.

MEDIUM/ PUBLISHING

Micro: a piece typically between 6 and 400 words, however, consult the submission guidelines and archives to ensure you’re working with a mag’s specific definition of “micro.” Plague Circus Press is a new publisher of poetry micros and the annual Best Microfiction awards recognize exemplary pieces in this category.

[Travis: Word count on micros changes pub to pub but I typically define it along the lines of Best Microfiction eligibility, which would be 400 words or fewer.]

[Hanna: Thank you, Tom Snarsky, for your efforts in this category]

_____

Flash: typically refers to short-form fiction between 100-1,500 words, but check submission guidelines for individual publications. Scaffold, Smokelong Quarterly, and Wigleaf are well-established publishers of flash fiction, and Wigleaf also assembles the annual Wigleaf Top 50 for exemplary flash pieces.

[Travis: Best Small Fictions defines flash as 1000 words or fewer and while some places stretch this, that seems to be the safe call.]

_____

Hybrid: A piece, chapbook, or full length work that blends multiple genres, such as poetry, prose, and memoir, but can also include photography and visual art to convey the author’s intention.

[Travis: I don’t know what a hybrid is unless you’re talking about a full manuscript. Everything I’ve seen published as a hybrid “piece” I’d just call a poem.]

[Hanna: I’ve just learned I’ve written a hybrid piece.]

_____

Chapbook/ “Chap”: a poetry collection significantly shorter than a full length. Publications accepting chapbooks will typically have considerations for length that may vary by genre, but a chap can run anywhere from 5 to 40 pages.

[Alexandra: As someone who loves experimenting with poetry and borrowing from the music world (because I am not musically talented but I very much appreciate music and what it can do to a listener) and making “concept albums” with the books I write and put together, I like to think of chapbooks as EPs to a full length’s LP.]

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Full Length: A collection of pieces or a single piece that is between 50 and 100 pages. Publications that are accepting full-length works will typically have considerations for length that may vary by genre.

[ Alexandra: I feel like this means 100 pages or more, for a selected poetry manuscript. Also, I just realized that not everyone formats their manuscript as how it will appear when printed. My poetry and novel manuscripts are always formatted 5.5 in by 8.5 in so when I’m putting my book together I know how it will look when published as a book. Which means that my idea of 100 pages is not the same as everyone else who keeps their documents standard 8.5 in by 11 in size.]

[ Travis: Varies place to place, I’ve seen 50 page manuscripts called full-length (and that is generally long to be called a chap).]

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Manuscript: A finished, but unpublished, collection of pieces or a single piece that a writer sends to publications with the hope of being published. A manuscript is typically as settled as an author wants it to be before submitting, but will still undergo multiple rounds of edits if accepted by a publisher.

[Alexandra: the document that your book lives in that gets sent to publishers/agents.]

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Awards/ nominating: A process that certain publications engage in to nominate published pieces from a designated time period to be recognized by an awarding body in indie lit. A nomination indicates that the publication wants to formally recognize your piece. Awarding bodies in indie lit include the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions. Some individual publishers will also compile their own version of awards, such as the Wigleaf Top 50.

[Alexandra: the nomination is the prize.]

[Travis: There are a ton of writing awards but the ones you’ll hear often around here are the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions. Best Small Fictions and Best Microfictions are both real awards. You can win them. Best of the Net is half-real. I’ve heard tales of people winning Best of the Net but only through bard’s songs. The Pushcart Prize isn’t real. If you get nominated for a Pushcart, you won a Pushcart. Congratulations.]

[Hanna: Hey, does this mean Travis’ haiku string actually WON a Pushcart??]

[Alexandra: It also means I won a Pushcart AND Best of the Net ;)]

Did we leave anything out? Any question you want answered? Let me know in the comments below.

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Further reading:

I’m not trying to do a prediction market thing here but if you’ve noticed the current online lit dIsCoUrSe about a new lit mag popping up seemingly every day like a bad case of cystic acne, it definitely feels tempting to start taking bets.

Anyway.

I wanna do a discourse. Let’s do a discourse.

This is maybe my fourth post about online lit stuff this summer. Let’s keep it going.

Ever since Loser—Conor Hultman and Mai Bell’s new print-only journal where every submission received within a certain window of time is accepted for publication until all 200 pages of the issue have been filled (and you won’t know you made it in until the issue is released)—entered the scene back in early June 2026, a number of copycat lit mags with similar premises (only tweaked!) have joined the fray attempting to ride on those conceptual coattails.

I haven’t been able to keep up with all the new online lit mags. There are quite a few I’ve seen in the past couple weeks and I’m sure I didn’t catch notice of them all. Some of them are getting buzz, some of them are getting scorn, and some are probably entering the scene without much of a splash at all.

We’ve got Deadbeat (a print only magazine requesting only your very worst poems), we’ve got Saint (a print-only magazine publishing “transgressive” work in limited runs), we’ve got The Cult Lit (a magazine where writers are invited to submit via summons from other writers who had previously been summoned, and as of July 15, 2026 has locked down their Twitter account but still has not fixed the ai-generated typo in their header from surnmons to summons), and there are probably more that I’m forgetting to mention but I think you get the gist.

People aren’t just talking about the new mags. People are making fake literary magazines in response.

And the fake magazines, memes themeselves, are being memed further.

Are these responses exuding ridicule, or are people just having fun? I have seen what I perceive to be oversized indignancies, but overall I think most people do not care, or are just making jokes because this is what we do online: we make jokes when we’re not actively making or promoting our own art. It’s fine. It’s all fine, really.

Lit mags come and lit mags go.

Be About It Press has been around since 2010. I’m not saying we’ve stood the test of time, but we’ve made it this far, and we’ve gone through various phases and fluctuations.

I feel like I’ve told this story a million times, but it feels important in this context, and perhaps not everyone has heard it already. I decided to start a zine because it seemed like a fun idea. I was inspired by this book I read called How to Become a Famous Writer Before You’re Dead, a non-fiction pseudo-self-help book by Ariel Gore that talked about DIY publishing and zine-making as a punk rock statement of self. My dad bought the book for me for Christmas one year and I let it sit around on a shelf until I felt bored one day and picked it up. It changed my life. I mean, I had already been blogging and expressing myself that way, but actually engaging with (and building!) a community around a creative project of which I was the captain, the editor-in-chief, really made me start taking myself more seriously as a writer.

[Speaking of taking myself seriously as a writer, (please note that this is a long tangent, so please feel free to skip if you aren’t interested in me and my life) just today I was at my mom and dad’s house rummaging for the first time ever through the “memory box,” an enormous vintage suitcase that has served as a storage bin for all of my and my sister’s important documents: awards, report cards, my first holy communion banner I made with felt and glue and wooden dowels, notebooks from our gradeschool years, and letters to Santa. I was looking for test results. Rachel Bell posted her IQ on instagram the other day, and it made me wonder what my IQ score was/is. When I was 9 years old I took an IQ test to get accepted into the mentally gifted program. My parents told me that they didn’t remember my score, and they weren’t sure if they were given any sort of documentation about the test results, but my mom brought out the memory box from its dusty hiding place and invited me to dig around in case they saved it. I didn’t find what I was looking for, but I did find my teacher’s recommendation to admit me into the program because my creativity, reading prowess, and writing skills were something to be tended to and nourished. Attached to the teacher’s recommendation was a note from my father: “Alexandra loves to read and has a knack for writing and illustrating her own story books at home. With math, she needs more coaxing.” I also spent some time flipping through my kindergarten journal where I would draw pictures and dictate the story behind them to my teacher, who recorded my words alongside. I was always making up stories about vampires and ghosts, and going to the moon. This composition book I held in my hands, a physical starting point of my writing career, from crayon drawings and simple fantasies about houses on fire and spaceships, was a comforting salve to my ego, and knowing where I am now, publishing novels and full-length poetry collections, it was a really nice reminder that I’ve always had this in me, that I am doing the thing I have been doing all of my life and was most likely meant to do.]

In the 16 years I’ve been in the publishing biz (lol), I’ve learned a lot. I had no idea what I was doing when I started out making a zine, but I worked with what I had and what I picked up from reading that Gore book and what I’ve seen other writers and artists do. When I was a teen, I liked indie comics. Mini comics, they were sometimes called, but they were essentially zines: small, staple-bound editions of folded paper adorned with Xeroxed images and words. I had read and seen plenty of these to have them serve as inspiration.

I figured I would learn on the job.

I probably made some questionable editorial choices in the beginning, I was basically only publishing my writing and my friends’ writing and whoever came through the inbox so long as it seemed cool. I didn’t know any “real” writers, and I didn’t have a mission statement aside from “I’m going to do this.” That’s why I called the press Be About It. I wanted to try something. I wanted to take an idea and make it real. I didn’t want to just talk about it, I wanted to be about it. Through doing the press, bringing it to life, I created a lane for myself and became acquainted with a world I would likely have not encountered otherwise.

In those 16 years, I’ve seen presses and lit mags rise and fall. Even outlts that were considered institutions in their time (HTML Giant, Metazen, Spork Press, Misery Tourism, just to name a few) have shuttered their proverbial doors. It’s the way of the lit mag world. Hardly anyone is making money from doing indie press/online publishing, and even if that’s not a substantial enough reason, people just have their own lives and not everyone has the time to spare to keep it going. And it does take time!

My original publishing intention was to publish at least two zines per year. I mean, I didn’t start out thinking that, but I had been publishing two zines per year and that felt like my natural rhythm, so I decided to keep it up. And I did for a while, probably up until 2018, which was when I started a job that demanded a lot more of my time and energy—I loved this job, and I loved my coworkers, but it did take over my life while I was there. Previously, I had been working silly little office jobs where I was able to fuck around on the clock and write entire chapbooks in a day during my shifts and read through emailed submissions for the zine and use my job’s Microsoft Office suite to format issues and books all on company time. Sure, the money was terrible, I was barely making rent, but the fact that I could do so much while I was supposed to be working felt like a decent payoff. But then I got a real job. And then years later, I had my first baby. Be About It Press stuff was put on the back burner. I managed to eke out a few books by authors who wanted to work with me, but I felt done with zines, and I had completely neglected any online presence I had built up in the past.

This is all to say: life happens, stuff happens. We do what we can with our passion projects, and sometimes we have to give them up because we have no other choice.

Now, I don’t know how much of this relates to all the new lit mags. I believe Conor has stated that he has and end goal in mind for Loser, that it has a predetermined termination date that the public will find out about when the time has come. This seems cool and fun and organized. Very conceptual. A friend told me The Cult Lit (which seems like it’s done before it even got off the ground) may have been a convuluted marketing gimmick for some new shitcoin and if that’s the case then good riddance.

I personally don’t have a problem with new lit mags proliferating, I think it’s a good indicator of a healthy literary ecosystem in the same way that having too many reading series is. If a new audience can be created, if the idea captivates a crowd or even a couple people that might not have known about this wonderful world we coexist in, then that seems like a good thing. We should always be looking for fresh blood, fresh writers, fresh readers. And sure, it might not all be good, but what ever is? I’m not a gatekeeping person. I have taste, and I have my own set of criteria when it comes to deciding what to publish on my mag, but it’s not my job to police anyone else. We can all choose to read what we want to. And sometimes, even if there’s a bunch of shit in the way, there’s always at least a few lovely surprises that seemingly come from nowhere. It’s our job to find these green offshoots and tend to them and nourish them. Solicit them for our own magazines. We’ve all got to start somewhere.

Should I bring it up again? Yeah, whatever, I’m going to. How do we turn this energy into profit? How do we get paid from all of this work that we do? Is that ever going to happen? Are we going to make online lit mainstream? Is that even possible? Is that against the ethos of this community that we’ve built? Is the idea of online lit being a springboard into legitimacy the antithesis of its mission?

Are we going to get grant money or CIA funding or private donations from oligarchs who care about the arts? Are we okay with yapping at each other, passing the same dollar bill back and forth like Beavis and Butthead that time they tried selling candy bars? I mean, I guess I’m fine with it, but it would be nice to take some money from people and entities that can afford to part with it! If you have any get-rich schemes you’d like to share with the class (aside from creating a fucking shitcoin), please leave me a comment and we can brainstorm.

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Until next time <3

Feel free to check out the posts below for further reading if you wish:

There’s been a lot of hubub and chatter happening on twitter about criticism recently. Melon is getting dragged for trashing Halsey’s album (I have never listened to this artist and therefore do not care, though I do believe that music critics should be allowed to say why they think an album sucks!), my anonymous mutual wants to know who wrote the worst piece in Loser I, and thinks we should be naming names instead of subtweeting our nemeses.

Question for the culture: Is literature about taking sides?

I feel like there might have been more criticism, more naming of names, more discourse when I first became aware of online lit (née alt lit). I’m talking about the early 2010s. Writers talked a lot of shit about other writers, and not always in a defamatory way. It felt more Wild West. The Facebook group Alt Lit Gossip was a hot bed of hot takes. Someone would post an image they found on tumblr and an hour later there would be 100 comments and at least five people going back and forth about what it meant and what OP intended by sharing it in the space. It was live. It was a great way to kill time while sitting at a computer at an office job. Poets shared their poems they wrote while on the toilet and sometimes they were heaped with praise and also ridiculed. You had to be there.

Andrea Coates was a shining example of a writer who wasn’t afraid to write scathing critiques of her alt lit peers. She got a lot of flack, but I loved her for it. When ARCs of Marie Calloway’s book were sent to alt lit writers for their review, I was warned by my boyfriend at the time to not send it to Andrea, who I had become friendly with, in the fear that she might write a takedown piece or possibly post the novel in whole on her own blog. I did not send it to her, but I was amused by the notoriety she had cultivated for herself.

Maybe there was more back then, or maybe I’m just better at tuning it out for the most part now. Alt Lit Gossip is gone, and social media has fine tuned its algorithms so we’re only really seeing what some programmers’ formulas decided what we want to see.

This was the piece that Crumplar was responding to, from the Embedded substack. It’s paywalled, and you can already get the gist from the first paragraph, but here it is in toto:

They said it themselves. In a word, this is petty.

Does anyone really care about this anonymous person’s nemesis and their book deal? What is the point of posting something like this? At least blind items have clues. Gossip we can guess about. All we have to work with here is that this nemesis thinks he’s smarter than Joan Didion and he has a platform. That literally could be any dipshit writer who has a following. Anon is calling themselves a “town crier,” but for what effect? Someone I don’t like is getting recognition that I don’t think they deserve. Okay? And? Either give us the details, or save it for the group chat.

But do we even need the details? What purpose does literary shit talk serve, and who benefits from it? I’m asking genuinely because I do not know the answer. Sure, it can be juicy and no one is really above it despite how much they protest, but what’s the point? Is it a form of gatekeeping? Like a warning to other gatekeepers? This writer sucks actually and if you decide to work with them then you suck actually and also you’re gonna get blacklisted. Talking shit, chatting s, can be a harmless way to vent in private conversations, but does it help anyone to make these declarations in a public forum? I mean, I guess places like kiwifarms exist for this reason, and while I don’t think it’s particualrly kind I am certainly not moralizing anything or making a case why it shouldn’t happen. I’m merely asking if people really want to engage in more shit talk, and, if so, why?

To be clear, I think there is a distinct difference between literary shit talk and the kind of measured analysis that engages with the work itself, what it represents, and what it’s responding to in our culture. Can shit talk be elevated? Does it need to be?

I’ve seen people online asking for more criticism and for fewer critical reviews that basically act as free advertisement for whatever is being discussed. I think that’s a fair ask, though I can understand why we don’t see much of it. It is not easy to be charitable while also pointing out flaws within a work. There’s the sandwich method, that I had to learn at my job as a manager when giving feedback to my team members, where you poisition one bit of criticism in between two positive comments. Not everyone has the tact to do this. And I think sometimes it might not seem worth it to a reviewer who generally did not enjoy the work. What’s the point of taking the time to write about something you didn’t like? I guess unless you’re being paid and it’s your actual job.

There’s also a social component to this. Writing a negative review could mean risking your own standing within that community. If being a literary critic is your fulltime gig and you have no dreams of publishing your own creative writing, this might not be an intimidating factor for you. But if you’re a writer who cares about your community, writing a takedown piece might jeopardize your own career. Even if you are charitable in your criticism, it could be taken in bad faith.

This is not to say that I think negative reviews should not be written. Negative reviews should be written. And the people who write them should have a place within our literary community. While I don’t think I would personally bother to write a negative review, I do think that it can be quite brave, and sometimes even necessary, to take a dissenting stance if that’s how you feel. Like, I usually appreciate when I’m noticing everyone saying the same thing about something and someone steps up to say, wait can we actually look a little deeper and talk about this some more. Because why not?

We don’t all have to like the same things, and sometimes writing can be not so great, sometimes even really bad. And if you can make a convincing argument why something might not be as amazing as the general consensus would tell you, and do it with care, showing that you took an effort to honestly engage with the work, then go for it. I’m sure there are more than a few writers who are very good at providing critiques that are neither full of flattery and worship or flat out condemnation. If you know some, please shout them out in the comments. I’ve been looking through D.H. Lawrence’s essay collection, The Bad Side of Books, which includes critiques on works by Thomas Mann and Ernest Hemingway, and though Lawrence was writing in a completely different era, it is proof that the job can be done (and done by a person who also wrote fiction and published widely read novels).

I think maybe there’s an idea that exists about not writing bad reviews or even critical reviews because we are all working within a small ecosystem already and a negative association made to an indie author’s work will only serve to tarnish their reputation and chances of breaking onto a larger stage and obtaining a larger platform. I mean, maybe this is a possibility, and I have no idea how these things work, how connections to people and entities with money, power, and influence are forged, so if you know, please feel free to share it in the comments. But this seems kind of silly to me? Some hit pieces become hits themselves, taking legs and wreaking havoc on social media for a day or two, but largely they seem to be mostly ignored. Thoughtful criticism seems to have a longer life, since its purpose is to provide a deeper level of understanding of the work and question the choices that were made. Not poke holes for the sake of it, but really show the defects as they are and make leveled assessments about how they came to be.

Let’s talk a little bit more about it.

Why do we think criticism exists? Again, this is a genuine question. Do critics discuss a work of art so that an audience, be it a layperson/regular joe or someone who actively practices art, can better enjoy it? Do critics help an audience by pointing out information in the work that may otherwise go unnoticed? To provide context about the work and its place within a larger conversation or historical narrative? Do critics tell an audience what to like? Or are critics just providing their opinion as an expert, or perhaps as a non-expert who has something to say and feels compelled to share it? I think it’s probably all of these things.

I used to read music and film reviews religiously in Philly’s now-defunt alt weekly, City Paper. Spending time every week reading those reviews definitely influenced what movies I went to see and what albums to check out the next time I found myself at Repo Records or Spaceboy. These days, I don’t really seek out reviews as much, but I will admit that I like to seek out criticism if I wish to continue thinking about and prolong the experience of a book or movie I’ve recently finished. You know, to see how my take on the piece stacks up to how other people, people who get paid to think about these things, reacted. This is also helpful particularly if I didn’t care for the piece as much as I had hoped, to see if maybe I missed something, or if there is some greater context that would have better informed my reading of the piece.

Who is criticism helping? The critic, or the subject? Or both? Or neither?

Online lit is not a zero sum game. I don’t know what it is exactly, aside from a community of people who have a passion for art and want to share and engage with others. So if we look at it as one community member speaking to another, criticism can be a helpful tool in improving our craft. This is why workshops exist. Of course, it’s probably more embarassing to have a lesson taught to you in public about why your piece didn’t work, but we can choose how we want to embrace it.

All press is good press, right?

I don’t really see criticism, even particularly biting criticism, hurting anyone. There are probably some reviews out there that were written to explicitly fuck with and hurt the author being reviewed, but I personally haven’t seen too many of these. Many years ago, I was the recipient of a bad review for my book You Could Never Objectify Me More Than I’ve Already Objectified Myself, but it didn’t make a splash because seemingly no one read the review. I believe the review was personal for reasons I won’t get into (it was written by someone I had met in person who I did not get a good vibe from), but I didn’t take offense to it particularly because the reviewer made no attempt to honestly engage with the book. They made fun of my use of negative space on the page, for example. Lol.

So let’s write more reviews. Let’s encourage each other to do better, and ask more questions. But most importantly.

Let’s figure out how to get the CIA to financially invest in online lit.

Seriously.

Leave your ideas in the comments.

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Read my other posts about book reviews here:

How to not choke while performing at your next literary event

Choking. Goofing. Messing up. It happens to everyone and it happens to the best of us.

No matter how seasoned a performer is, mistakes can happen and nerves can get prickled and what should have been a seamless set can get flubbed big time. I’m not talking about a simple stutter or a momentary losing of one’s place on the page. I’m talking about straight up bombing it. Like, returning to your seat afterwards and wishing you had never been born levels of bad. An incessant replaying of the scene and what you should have done and what you would do if only you could go back and do it again.

Unfortunately, time travel does not exist but regret does. In order to help prevent that incredible sense of loss that only comes from trying and failing to properly express yourself in front of a live audience, I have prepared this little listicle of things to do (and not do) before stepping onto the grand stage and performing your heart out.

Do: prepare ahead of time. One cannot rest on the laurels of having done the damn thing hundreds of times before. Every event should be treated like the first time. Know exactly what you’re going to read beforehand, and have it ready, either printed out or bookmarked or in a fresh document in your google drive. If you’re not sure what you want to read, narrow your options down to what you’d feel most comfortable reading out loud and bring enough pieces that you can easily skip if the mood doesn’t feel right.

Don’t: wing it. Don’t just open up your notes app where it’s all completely disorganized forcing you to scroll and scroll to find the piece you want to read while people in the audience politely wait but we all know they’re thinking how long are we supposed to sit here quietly while this joker figures out what poem they’re going to read.

Do: practice ahead of time. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve read whatever piece out loud, pick out your set then read it out loud and time yourself. You should know how much time you have to perform before you go to the reading, and if you don’t you should ask your host so that you can be ahead of the game.

Don’t: go over your alloted time. I don’t see this happen too often anymore, but it is so groan worthy when the host gives everyone 10-15 minutes and one reader decides, actually I’m going to read for 20-25. It’s obnoxious and it leaves such a foul impression on me. I think this might be one of those taboo topics that literary community members won’t bring up in fear of calling people out, but whatever. I hate it and it’s a bad look. Don’t be that person who thinks they deserve more time than other readers on the bill. This isn’t your book release party. You’re not the star.

Do: bring a friend. If you love to perform but sometimes get stagefright, bring a friend and instruct them to shout out a word of encouragement if they notice you getting nervous. Sometimes an earnest “you’re doing amazing sweetie” is all that it takes to get back into the flow.

Don’t: say “I’m nervous.” No one cares if you’re nervous. In fact, they probably expect everyone going up on stage to be a bit nervous. Admitting that you’re nervous, out loud, will only reinforce those feelings. Instead, take a deep breath, stand back from the mic, close your eyes, picture an open field or a vanilla milkshake or whatever thing you’re into that sets your mind at ease, and come back to it. People in the audience will think you’re doing performance art or something and instead of annoucing that you’re pissing your pants with trepidation, they will think you’re cool.

Do: get in the zone. You’re killing it. Tell yourself that before you go up and once you take the mic. Believing it will make it true.

Don’t: focus on the audience too much. Sometimes the audience claps after you finish a piece and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they laugh at a joke and sometimes they hold it back because they’re not sure if they’re supposed to laugh. It shouldn’t make a difference to you. We all like to get that external validation, but don’t let it trip you up.

Do: get in the right mindset before you take the stage. Personally, I find that if I socialize before the show starts instead of quieting my thoughts and mentally preparing I won’t do as well. I need to relax and get in the right mood, and sometimes that means sitting alone and going over in my head what I plan on saying and what to emphasize and what jokes to make, etc. Socializing is easier and a deserved treat after a good performance. This may not apply to you, but it’s something to consider.

Don’t: get too down on yourself if you do mess up. It’s not the end of the world. You’ll have another chance to excel and it won’t be the last time you choke.

I’ve choked about three times. Once, I was extremely hungover (it was on the day I decided to get sober) and I was just not in the right headspace and I started reading a story and decided I just couldn’t do it, so I sat down without finishing. It wasn’t my proudest moment but it was a good wakeup call to quit drinking.

Another time, while on my first book tour, I was lovesick for this dumb boy I was penpals with and cried with snot streaming down my face while trying to read a story. I don’t think the audience cared (and there were only like three people in attendance), but it was another time that emotions kept me from completeing my set.

The third time was recent. I don’t know what was up with me. There was someone in the audience I get a bad vibe from and instead of concentrating on the people in attendance with whom I share mutual appreciation, I got too focused on what this person who probably doesn’t care at all about me had to think and it negatively impacted my performance. I stopped myself from finishing a poem (one of my usual bangers) because I thought “oh they probably think this is corny,” and then when I started scrolling my google drive doc it took me too long to find the poem I wanted to read and I kept apologizing for being nervous. I only ended up crushing one poem, and then I decided to sit down even though I still had another five minutes left in my set. It was very dumb and I felt bad about it for a few days, but it was also the catalytic event for this post so all’s well that ends well.

How do you prepare for an event? What helps when you feel some stage fright creeping in?

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Online lit is stupid (and that’s okay, actually).

I am blogging here today to discuss two poems that I believe are in conversation with each other in their critique of online lit mags and the people who read them (and submit to them). These two pieces are “you’re lit mag sucks” by Theo Thimo and “The Bar Gets Raised” by Taylor Napolsky.

Let’s start with “you’re lit mag sucks” by Theo Thimo, since it came first, published by Bizarre Publishing House in January 2026. This piece reads like a giant middle finger to online literary spaces, decrying the current state of online literature and the people who write it. When I first read the piece, I took it as a playfully sardonic challenge to the magazine who published it, like I dare you to publish this poem where I make fun of your literary magazine, and I still believe this to be the case.

from “you’re lit mag sucks” by Theo Thimo

Craftily employing internet speak and 2010s-era memes, the piece harkens back to a simpler time of old school alt lit’s heyday. The piece does not take itself seriously, it was clearly done for fun. Ending with a silly jab directly lifted from one of Jessi Slaughter’s viral videos (god, that poor kid), in which her stepfather yells at the camera and Jessi’s cyberbullies

we see that any sort of real threat is completely undercut. Thimo is joshing us, joshing the magazine. We are not meant to walk away from reading this piece with any sort of hard feelings, and clearly the magazine understood the poem’s mission.

“The Bar Gets Raised” by Taylor Napolsky, published by Plague Circus Press in June 2026, is less wistful about the online lit days of yore. It is forthright in putting the reader in their place and challenging their motivations behind reading and supporting online lit.

from “The Bar Gets Raised” by Taylor Napolsky

Using a similar tone as “you’re lit mag sucks,” the piece brings humor along with insults. The language is relaxed, and reads like a Twitter missive railing against those who pretend to be cultured in order to receive some unspoken cultural currency and coolness, i.e., clout.

It should be noted that Napolsky was the editor who published Thimo’s piece at Bizarre Publishing House, which was taken down for a short time due to controversy before being restored after a number of people complained. Napolsky takes the premise of the shittiness of online lit mags and turns the onus onto the readers and supporters.

The pieces are indeed in conversation, creating a dialectic of online literature and its participants, asking why any of us are doing this at all. Why are we writing poetry for an audience of 100s, who most likely are also writing their own poetry they hope to publish online to the dozens of venues we all inhabit? Why do we take it seriously?

When viewed in this way, online lit is stupid. And the people who performatively talk about and care about online lit are stupid, especially when they log onto a public form to post about how much they liked a poem and you can tell they’re only doing it because the person who wrote the poem is either hot or has clout or has both hotness and clout.

I take issue with the notion that the girl poet must be pretty while the dude poet must have clout in order to be discussed (some women have clout and some men are hot), but it is also easy to see this play out online on a surface level. I also agree that it is easier to become a consumed poet if you are considered fuckable and have a strong following, regardless of gender. Or else, you know, just be really good at what you do. But we’re talking about alt lit/online lit, which has always been a bit of a high-school popularity game, though the truly popular would be loathe to admit as much. As an aging but still hot and only mildly popular poet, I’m happy to call that out.

Furthermore, what even is the use of clout if there are only a few hundred of us reading and participating? Are we all vying to be homecoming king and queen in our podunk hometown? One of my favorite things to remind myself when envy sets in because someone wrote a poem that got more hits than mine (or whatever) is that poetry, especially online poetry, is super low stakes. It’s better to just have fun and not put too much value in popularity.

So are we all just pretending to like poetry that isn’t very good? No, I don’t think the majority of us are doing that, though to an outsider I think it can seem that way? And “The Bar Gets Raised” does seem to take on the voice of a jealous outsider, someone like The Grinch, someone who deems themselves and their work superior to the participants of the in-group who happily praise each other and celebrate each other’s poetry. They must be doing it for clout, the outsider thinks, or they’re just using their sexuality to get readers. If only this outsider knew that they too could participate and share in the celebrations and share their own work, that they could be accepted if they put their jealousies aside.

These poems are silly. In my opinion, they are holding a mirror to those who take participating in the writing scene too seriously. None of this is serious. People mostly participate in alt lit/online lit because they want to have fun. They enjoy reading and writing and want to commune with people who also enjoy reading and writing. It’s a way to connect. The writing is mostly good, too.

Silliness and community are interconnecting. It is possible to care for others while also engaging in a lighthearted manner. is a good example of this.

Did you read these pieces? What did you think?

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This is not my writing desk.

This place where I stand and wait for the bus every day is not my writing desk. I like this place where I stand and wait for the bus because I can just daydream while staring out into incoming traffic so I can be ready when the bus arrives and I don’t have to look at any of the other people waiting for the bus. There are some good-looking people waiting for the bus and I don’t want to look at them too much because I already fantasize in my head that they are thinking that I think that they are attractive. In my intrusive fantasy that I can’t help but torture myself with, the good-looking people are annoyed with me for finding them attractive. They catch me looking at them, even for a short moment, and they think, ew look at that girl checking me out, she must want to sleep with me. And that’s why I can’t look at them. Even if I don’t think they’re hot, even though I do not want to initiate contact, they think that I think they are and that I wish our relationship could be more than just standing in silence while waiting for the bus, and this is already enough of a meta-fantasy that I don’t need to tease it any further, so I just look up San Pablo Avenue and compose a poem in my head or watch the crows as they squawk to each other from the street sign to a tree top overhead.

This is where I stand outside in the sunshine in the morning right at the curb in front of the dry cleaners where I take my dry cleaning. Sometimes I stand outside in the sunshine in the morning right at the curb in front of the internet cafe that I believe is an underworld front mostly because it’s an internet cafe in 2019 but there’s no actual cafe, the whole operation is just a table of clunky old Dell desktop models, and right next door is a sex shop called “Secrets” that sells whip-its, poorly made dildos, and Halloween store quality lingerie. There may be no connection to the sex shop and the internet cafe but in my mind they are run by the same mob outfit. Something about low quality sex stores always screams mob activity to me.

This is where I stand at the curb to wait for the bus after I walk from my home several blocks away.

This is where I pull my Clipper card from my wallet so I can pay my fare for the bus when it comes.

This is where I think about putting my headphones on, but I usually don’t because I appreciate the idea of keeping my eyes and ears open when I’m waiting for something to happen.

This is where I like to stand because it’s not right in front of the bus stop where the other people like to stand which is also in the shade. I like to stand by the curb and off to the side directly in the sunshine and pretend I am being recharged like a battery or a crystal so that I have energy for the new work day before I get on the bus. I like to stand in the sunshine so I can absorb some vitamin D from the sun before I have to sit in an office for nine hours.

This is not my writing desk and I am not writing but I am definitely thinking about writing and I don’t think that should be counted against me. I am standing in the sunshine waiting for the bus and I am thinking about writing something really good. I am thinking about writing something I would want to read, or more accurately I am thinking about writing something I would want to read out loud to other people and not get bored with halfway through.

I am not writing and this is not my writing desk. I am writing but I am not actually writing. I am writing because everything I do consciously and unconsciously is writing. Every day I write the book type shit. I am not writing because I am not jotting anything down but I am still writing. My body is my work. It holds everything in. When I breathe I am making thoughts. My thoughts are the food for the writing. I will remember it all later.

This is not my writing desk. I am waiting for the bus, and I am thinking about how often I think about writing without actually taking steps to start writing. I am standing outside in the sunshine near the curb on San Pablo Avenue and I am wondering if I am trying to give myself too much credit for not getting any real work down on paper though I truly believe this marinating process is one of the most important parts of getting something together as a piece of writing. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. I like that word, marinate, and I use it often to describe my writing process, like I’m using time and space to season the beef of my idea.

This is not my writing desk and I am not writing, but I am marinating and I am doing other things and living my day to day life and I look forward to getting the grill out and firing up the coals. I mean if I keep thinking about writing even if I am not writing I will eventually be writing if I think about it enough and just start.

When I was a kid, I was a Beatlemaniac. I don’t remember how it started. Maybe it’s because 1995 was the year The Beatles Anthology was released, so I had no control over it, I was swept up in the zeitgesit. Maybe I heard a song on the radio and liked it and wanted to hear more. Maybe it was when I was sleeping over my cousin’s house on the living room couch and my uncle watched A Hard Day’s Night and Help! back to back late one evening when he thought I was already asleep. Maybe I was inspired when we visited my dad’s family in England in 1995 and stopped at The Beatles Museum in Liverpool. Or maybe all of these things are true.

I had a poster on my wall. I had a big crush on Paul McCartney. My dad had all their albums on vinyl and dubbed them onto cassette for me so I could listen on my Walkman and in the car. The backpack that I wore to school was adorned with patches: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, The Beatles logo, a peace sign, flower power (my Christmas presents, after asking only for “peace and love” that year). I was a superfan.

I got made fun of at school. I hardly had any friends as it was, and barely anyone my age was into The White Album. I did have one neighborhood friend who was also a huge Beatles fan. Her name was Eleni, and I was glad to have someone to share my obsession with. I let her borrow one of my bootleg cassettes and she accidentally dubbed over it. My dad was annoyed that he had to re-dub it.

Anyway. I’ve been feeling like that these days. Obsessed and unable to really share it, though there is a very large online Beatles fandom that I’ve been observing from a safe distance. The fun part of being obsessed with something, particularly music, is that it’s a secret just for me. Something to do alone and look forward to. It makes a regular day feel fun when I know that at some point I get to zone out and indulge, kick back with headphones, and listen to Rubber Soul on repeat.

My obsession reignited a few weeks ago, when I posted something dumb on Facebook: “See you in the funny papers.” Someone replied asking “is that from a Beatles song?” I said I didn’t think it was, and then they replied back “oh, it’s ‘you only give me your funny paper’ from ‘You Never Give Me Your Money.’” Right then, I was inspired to listen to side B of Abbey Road, something I had not done in a very long time. Maybe since high-school. It was exhilirating listening to The Long One with really good headphones.

My Beatles obsession had tapered off when I started high-school and discovering other music, going to Repo Records and finding cool albums based on the cover art (I picked up the first album by The National when I was in 10th grade because I thought the guy on the cover looked like John Lennon), found out about emo and ska and punk, and then later hip-hop. I never let go of The Beatles, and would still listen to The White Album on occassion, but I did kind of forget about them. I forgot how good they truly are.

Now I’m listening to their solo albums, albums I never really knew existed. I was aware of John Lennon’s solo work because my dad has a bunch of his albums (John was his favorite Beatle), and I remember enjoying Double Fantasy as a high-schooler. I guess my midlife crisis has primed me for being open to new musical experiences. Ram by Paul McCartney is really good, and so are the Wings albums. All Things Must Pass by George Harrison is really good. I haven’t listened to any of the Ringo albums yet, but I might venture towards those later. I always liked his voice on “Don’t Pass Me By.”

It’s funny that this is all happening now, during another kind of zeitgeist. There are a series of Beatles biopics coming out sometime soon, so expect a bunch of new Beatles fans to spring forward. I’ve been playing Revolver on a mini speaker for my kids when we take walks with the stroller. Not trying to influence their musical tastes too much, but it seems fine introducing them to mommy’s music. A few months ago, my friend told me that her daughter loves The Beatles, and I thought “yeah, that’s a pretty good band for kids to listen to,” but then didn’t bother until after my Abbey Road catalyst. “You Never Give Me Your Money” truly found me at the very right time.

I feel bad because I hardly ever blog here anymore, and this is such a rambly boring post about how I love The Beatles. I don’t feel like trying to write an essay underlying some hidden truth about what the band means to me, though I’m sure there’s something there. I just want to say I’ve been listening to The Beatles a lot and I feel fine. I’ve been writing a lot of new poetry, also. And thinking about writing fiction, but right now writing poetry is so much easier than carving out a coherent story.

Thanks for reading.

Hey, what’s up? Sorry if it seems like I just come on here to promote events. I have a few things up my sleeve, essay-wise, but this past month has been a little frantic (I moved house, went to AWP, stopped breastfeeding, got deposed for a lawsuit, I think that’s it). I haven’t forgotten about you. I’m trying to get through it. We’re almost there.

I need a semblance of mental clarity in order to write anything other than a listicle. Even typing this intro section has been a struggle.

God, do I ever stop complaining? A funny thought I had just now was, I bet to someone out there I’m that annoying old lady. That’s hella negative. Do other people shit talk themselves as much as I do? It’s a terrible habit.

deletes first three paragraphs I can’t believe it’s already time for A Writers Party 2026! We have a lot of stuff going on. If you’re new here, I and Josh Dale host a mini literary festival every year (since 2023) that is completely free and open to the public and happens online and in-person (in Philly). It’s our way of giving writers and artists a space to meet, perform, experience, and grow. We don’t do much. And we wouldn’t be anything without the folks who curate and host the workshops and panels. We just help bring people together.

Whether you join the online events, panels, and workshops, or make it to some of our in-person gatherings, I hope to see you this week. Please make sure you’re registered in advance for the online events! And if you’re planning to attend any of the in-person events, please RSVP so we know how many people to expect! Links are scattered below.

Wednesday March 18

• 6pm The Case For Grammar Now! at The Random Tea Room & Curiosity Shop

  A brief history of grammar from its prescriptive, Latinate context thru Chomsky’s universal proposition, to its contemporary significance. Join us for this robust, amusing workshop hosted by Chris Demento which will entertain, enlighten, and encourage critical thought about grammar and its application now, both for writers who think they dont want to be infected by rules, and for writers who perhaps seek “correctness” too faithfully.

• 8:30pm Masses of Metal online open mic

  Hosted by Josh Dale. Join us in worship with horns held high. Masses of Metal, a reading geared to the heavy metal spirit within. Join the clergy with up to 5 poems, 1-2 short stories, or up to 2 songs, sung or performed. Bandcamp/indie artists & bands are encouraged to bring physical/digital media. Costumes encouraged. Running playlist with requests. No gatekeepers, no bullshit, no harm done. The only rule: wear a band shirt.

Thursday March 19

• 7pm Poetry in Brief online reading

  Hosted by Rachel Turney, featuring Jhané, Claire Evans, Nicholas Grooms, Heather Kays, and Chris Kads.

• 8pm Our Unique Brains online panel

  Approximately 20% of the population identifies as neurodivergent. If you’re among this group, you’ve likely seen your writing benefit from your unique brain through hyperfocus, attention to detail, memory retention, thinking outside the box, and more. You’ve also probably experienced challenges to process and craft around these same skills and qualities. In this panel, genre-diverse writers with ADHD, ASD, OCD, and dyslexia share their strategies and routines, their wisdom and reflections. Featuring: Eshani Surya, Julian Shendelman, LindoYes, Elizabeth Austin, and hosted by Samantha Paige Rosen.

Friday March 20

• 5pm What Do My Abs Have To Say About It?! online workshop

  Hosted by Rosemary Carroll. Physical Techniques into Composition. We’ll begin with all-levels pilates, arranging and sequencing our bodies, and carry that practice into writing through guided prompts. By connecting movement to language-based composition, participants will explore how physical awareness informs creative process. Writers will develop micro-pieces to take with them and emerge with a new relationship to their physical form, their breath, and their imaginations.

• 7pm People Yell at You (a reading) at Neon Clown Dream Lounge

  Join us for this fun reading with Troublemaker Firestarter and ThirtyWest Publishing House. Featuring readers: Davi Schweizer, Amber Taylor, Alison Lubar, Josh Dale, Olivia Zarzycki, and James Milanesi.

Saturday March 21

• 11am All That Surrounds Us online workshop

  Hosted by Meg Carter. Poems of Place In this generative workshop, we’ll read and write poems that meditate on the places that have shaped our identity. We’ll write about our immediate surroundings, practicing the poetic act of noticing, and the places that we often return to in memory, exploring the longings that tether us to them. During the workshop, participants will have the opportunity to engage in close reading and discussion of poetry and will be provided with multiple writing prompts.

• 1pm Blogs Against the Bullshit at Lot 49

  An interactive workshop led by William T. Hazard where participants will learn how to make their own RSS-compatabile blogs. While much of the internet today has been enclosed within corporate platforms, not all of it has. The internet was built on open protocols that nobody owns, not on privately owned platforms, and those protocols are still freely available, there to be used.

  In this workshop, we'll take a look at how to use them to create a blog that is available to a wide audience and convenient to access but isn't beholden to fascists. We'll focus on the RSS (Really Simple Syndication) protocol, and by the end, you'll have the tools you need to create an RSS-compatible blog with HTML, CSS, XML, markdown, and shell scripting. While all these acronyms and coding language names might sound scary to some, please don't worry – this workshop will be geared toward beginners, much of the code will be provided for you, and as long as you've got a macOS, Windows, or Linux computer, you should be able to get up and running just fine, even if you have no prior experience with coding.

• 3pm Queering the Legend online workshop

  Hosted by Alison Lubar and Sean Hanrahan. Everyone's gay! Well, many people are, including mythological figures and legends that haven't all had their coming-out moment. Open to writers of all levels through a generative workshop to write about the queerness of our legends, whether they're the Headless Horseman or Aphrodite herself. Expect to leave with an expanded view of LGBTQIA+ identity as well as the beginnings of your next writing project(s)!

• 7pm Oscillations release party at The Perch

  Come celebrate the inagural issue of Oscillations, the Ghost Harmonics literary magazine. We'll have a reading featuring John Pinto, Emmet Lewis, PJ Lombardo, Robert David Carey, Matthew Klane, Yuyi Chen, Will Newman, Audrey Lee, Cody Roggio, Katie Bennett, Alexandra Naughton, Lauren Holguin, and more. Plus, free author headshots by Jay Shifman, and Found (Yourself in Poetry) interviews by Hanah Davenport. Hosted by Ghost Harmonics and Bring A Blanket Reading Series.

Sunday March 22

• 11am Wanted—Artist Support Clinic online workshop

  Hosted by Rosemary Carroll. In this workshop, we write classified ads for our art lives. Or intellectual autonomy. This workshop invites writers to focus on their psychic, socio-emotional, and material needs as artists. Through guided prompts, participants will reflect on what they are seeking —and translate those needs into classified ads written as haikus, micro-poems, or short experimental listings.
  Drawing on the queer history of personal and classified ads—particularly from publications such as Country Queer and On Our Backs—the workshop explores how advertising desire and need has functioned as a tool for survival, mutual aid, connection, and structure-building.
  Writers will leave with a series of poetic classifieds and a renewed sense of how language can be used to articulate desire, ask for support, and imagine more sustainable and liberatory art lives. Fun stuff.

• 1pm Collage & Poetry at Philly Typewriter

  This lightly guided workshop explores both poetry and collage through multiple techniques, ripping and writing!

• 3pm Found Footage: Cinematic Writing from the Body online workshop

  Hosted by Jillian Luft. Welcome to Found Footage: Cinematic Writing from the Body! Join us for a unique experience where you will learn how to use the body as lens to document sharp, sensory-loaded scenes that leave an indelible impression on your reader.

• 7pm A Writers Party Closing Reception at Philly Typewriter

  Join us for the final event of A Writers Party 2026 on Sunday, March 22 at Philly Typewriter! We’ll have a cool open mic hosted by Krystle Griffin, plus featured performances by Baylor, The Green Wheel, KA.DAY.SHA, and Found (Yourself in) Poetry by Hanah Davenport!

How does that all sound?

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Hi there. Are you going to Baltimore to partake in the numerous off-site readings? That’s what I’ll be doing. There are a ton of things happening with some of the coolest living literary figures writing today, and I would be honored if you decide to come stop by any of the events I’ll be reading at.

Friday, March 6:

6pm: NICE GIRLS DON’T WEAR CHA-CHA HEELS at House of Clam Strip.

Featuring Alexandra Naughton, Luke B. Goebel, Shy Watson, Tangelo Mantis, Amy Saul-Zerby, Carolyn DeCarlo, Carson Jordan, Jillian Luft, and Alice M. Come for the reading, stay for the karaoke!

Party starts at 6pm, reading starts at 7pm. RSVP here! This is a house party so the address is hidden on the flyer, but please RSVP so we know how many seltzers and snacks to provide!

Saturday, March 7:

1pm: Book Signing at Black Lawrence Press (Baltimore Convention Center, booths 650 & 652).

I’ll be signing copies of Rapid Transit from 1pm to 2pm! Come get a book and say hi!

3pm: Burial Magazine Presents: A Very Burial Afternoon at Mystique Barrel Brewing & Lager House (912 Washington Blvd., Baltimore, MD 21230).

Featuring Stephanie Anderson, Avee Chaudhuri, John Crawford, Bethany Cutkomp, Jameson Draper, Scott Laudati, Julian Martinez, Daniel Miller, Alexandra Naughton, Jennifer Ostopovich, Travis Shosa, and Addison Zeller.

7pm: CLASH Books + Crop Circle Press + Be About It: The AWP After Party Reading.

Bring your friends, get some fresh local brews at Mobtown Brewing & enjoy an eclectic lineup of rising literary voices being published by boundary pushing indie presses. Cap off your AWP experience at The AWP After Party Reading at 7pm. FEATURING: Chris Campanioni, Brian Allen Carr, Jerry Drake, Sadie Dupuis, Naomi Falk, Mina Hamedi, Kyle Kouri, Morgan Levine, Chris Molinar, Alexandra Naughton & Baltimore’s own David Simmons. Let’s get Lit!

Are you going to AWP? I’m normally somewhat anti-AWP, but this year it was so close I couldn’t say no. Also, both my babies are getting bigger and I’m excited to do some solo travel and sleep in a hotel room by myself. It’s only two days!

If you aren’t going to AWP, but still want to participate in some writer-driven events, please do check out what we’re cooking up for you for A Writers Party 2026. Everything is free! Some events and workshops are online, and others are happening in-person around Philly. You can see the listing here!

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There was a sponsored post the day promoting an article titled “The Literary Ecosystem is Dying,” posted by The Atlantic. I don’t subscribe to The Atlantic (for a variety of reasons), so I didn’t read the article, but the title and the hook used in the sponsored post is the exact type of rage bait I am keen to fall victim to: “The decline of book reviews, like the decline of newspapers themselves, is a story about disaggregation, Adam Kirsch argues.”

Maybe I should read the article? You know what, let me check to see how much of the article I can read before I get paywalled.

Two paragraphs. That’s as far as I got before I was asked to subscribe for two dollars a week.

I feel like that right there says it all. The literary ecosystem is not dying (melodramatic much), but people simply do not fuck with legacy media the same way previous generations did. You can thank the internet for that.

I can’t tell you the last time I picked up a newspaper to read a book or film or album review. It was at least 20 years ago. When I was in highschool and college, I was a devoted reader of Philadelphia’s free alternative weekly, City Paper. God, I loved City Paper. Rest in peace, for real. Every Thursday I would check the bright orange box on South street for a fresh copy and spend the rest of the day going through the pages. The whole paper was a refreshing read, but the reviews section was my favorite. I would usually go check out whatever was being lauded at the time. I found out about a lot of cool movies from reading City Paper. I was the only teenager in the audience when I went to see the film 3-Iron, and I was also the first of my friends to reference “My spoon is too big,” after seeing Rejected at a short animation film festival.

I could go on and on about City Paper, but I’d rather just share this Phillymag article about the history of the alt-weekly and why its DIY ethos was so important and unique to the culture of Philadelphia. When you’re getting death threats from Vince Fumo, you know you’re doing something right.

Alt weeklies are gone, and by and large we no longer trust corporate newspapers. We trust our peers.

You can decry influencers all you’d like. A lot of people do, and mostly for good reason. No one wants to be told what products to consume by someone who is obviously being paid to hype said products up. When we see an influencer post something that seems like an ad without it being disclosed as such, we rightly call it out.

But even with the influencer field flooded with corporate shills, there are still plenty of genuine people online who have built a reputation for providing their own nuanced takes on things. And that’s why, for better or worse, I love Substack. Maybe there are better platforms out there, but for now this is where a lot of writers are. So when I saw the sponsored post from The Atlantic about the death of the literary ecosystem, I left a comment saying, “Book reviews are happening in places other than legacy media. Check substack.”

Someone responded to my little comment with a decent series of questions: “but how do substackers select the books they write about? How do you, personally, decide what to spend time reading? How does a literary community form?”

I don’t know. How do we pick the books we want to read? Most of the books I end up reading were either written by my friends, or recommended to me by my friends. Or recommended by someone I follow on Substack whose taste I trust. If something sounds good, I’ll probably check it out. And if I like the book, or have a unique take on the book that I can articulate, I’ll probably end up writing a review.

I haven’t been reading (or reviewing) as much as I would like to (I have two small children and very little alone time), but I do still like to read! And maybe it’s because I’m surrounded by other writers and artists, but I definitely feel like people are still buying and reading books.

Do you read books? How many books a year do you read? Let me know in the comments, because I’m trying to prove a point here. Are book sales down because we’re borrowing copies from the library? Have ebooks and audio books eclipsed traditional book sales? Are people pirating books? Tell me!

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Community is something I think about a lot. I produce events, I publish books, I am involved in community and I wouldn’t be able to pursue my passions if it were not for the community. Community forms itself through support and interest, through writers supporting other writers, showing up for things, buying books and reviewing them, hosting and attending readings. We find out about new books because we are genuinely interested in what each other is doing and reading.

Maybe the traditional literary ecosystem is dying, but indie presses and authors have been leading the vanguard on the internet for a long time. A couple weeks ago I asked on Twitter if people read book reviews, and a few people responded that they don’t look at any particular website for reviews, but they buy books when someone they trust on Twitter recommends them.

It takes all kinds.

In other news, check out what we’re doing on Be About It Press.

Be About It Press

Small independent literary house publishing zines and books since 2010. Be About It Press wants you. Friends say we're approachable, cool, experimental, fun, smart, rad, edgy, and authentic. We wear these attributes with pride.

By Alexandra Naughton

And send me something for our next thematic call. You have until January 30th!

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My little piece is alongside work by 42 brilliant writers including ZH Gill, Shy Watson, Danielle Chelosky, Tyler Dempsey, Tom Snarsky, Giacomo Pope, and others. It was nice to be asked and it was a fun challenge to come up with a new poem in four days. I hope you like it.

I’m in Portland, Oregon right now, visiting my inlaws with my daughters and husband. We’re in the car right now singing Old MacDonald because my baby hates being in the car and singing sometimes calms her down but it’s not working right now.

We’re back at the airbnb. We went to Powell’s after lunch to look at books. My three year old picked out a book about astronauts and a book about deep sea creatures. I also signed some copies of Sick of Being Inside Myself.

Shoutout to Lincoln Michael for telling me how to do a post on here using the app. I was having a heck of a time trying to write this post using my phone’s browser.

I think that’s it for now! Go subscribe to Be About It Press on here. We’ve been publishing a ton of great new writing from your favorite internet writers and I don’t want you to miss out! Have a good holiday!!

What’s up? I’m posting this video from ten years ago because it’s still a banger. Do you remember this era of Alexandra Naughton? I was always in persona, especially at events, and because of that some people though I was a bitch. I think, at the time, what was really going on was I was extremely traumatized/embarrassed by my years of alcohol abuse and trying to cope with those feelings by pretending to be untouchable. I think I just uncovered this realization just now.

On that same note, I’ve been sober for ten years now and forgot to mention it to anyone. Usually I post about it on Facebook, on the anniversary of when I finally made the decision to quit drinking. But I guess after ten years it just feels completely natural. Looking back, it was the best decision I could have made. My life and my mental health have improved drastically since then. If you’re thinking about quitting alcohol (or whatever) and want to talk about it with someone, I’m here.

The same thing happens every year, it seems. Christmas approaches, the New Year approaches, and I get a sudden rush of energy to get as many ideas out as I can before the ball drops. Last year, I was trying to write as much as I could before going into labor.

I’m writing new poems. One I had hoped to get placed in a literary magazine I’ve submitted to numerous times, but it unfortunately did not make the cut. It’s a good poem and I feel confident that I will find a good home for it. Submitting is a perfect name for the act. I am submitting my work to be scritinized. I am submissive when I allow others to examine me in this way.

The other two poems were solicited by two other online literary magazines. It feels good to be wanted. To be given a deadline and a challenge to produce something new is also particularly exciting. It reminds me of being in school. To have that kind of excuse to throw myself into something and deliver it by a certain date. I should be working on this third poem right now, but I am giving that part of my brain a break.

has been posting new poems and prose from your favorite writers across the web. I had forgtten how much I missed running an online mag. Give us a follow if you haven’t already. We’re also publishing a new poetry chapbook by Colleen Shoshana McKee in Spring 2026, so please stay tuned for that!

My novel excerpt “Our Antagonist,” published in Burial Mag last month was selected by Tyler Dempsey as one of the “Best of The Bests” for 2025.

I have some cool things in the pipeline, and I’ll share more when it’s safe to do so. What do you have going on?

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I'm trying to figure out what inspires me.

Sometimes I don't know what I'm into. Have you ever felt this way?

This could be writer’s block or depression talking.

Of course I know that I like things: scary movies, weird fiction, the feeling of surprise and wonder that creeps up on me when I am enjoying a piece of art. I don't think I have one particular point of inspiration though, like I don't have one person or even a group of people who I look up to and aspire to be like. Is that normal?

Recently I was interviewed for Another Fucking Writing Podcast with Tyler Dempsey and I was asked who my favorite writers are. I was stumped for a minute, so I went with my obvious faves. Despite that brief feeling of revealing myself to be uncool by my starter pack sources of inspiration, the interview was really fun, and I recommend you check out my episode and other episodes.

When I get into one of these moods where I start self-critiquing my choices and how I present myself, I write off my taste as pedestrian. Low-brow. Basic. I know that I like movies by Brian DePalma, Stanley Kubrick, and Alfred Hitchcock. I know I like books by Jean Rhys, Bret Easton Ellis, Joyce Carol Oates, and Eve Babitz. I know I like novels and films and TV shows that have made me laugh and moved me with their contrarian or subversive viewpoint. But I also know I have a tendency to not try new things, and I don’t read nearly as much as I should. I say that I get inspired by television, and maybe that’s valid. Engaging with a wider range of media rather than just rewatching Breaking Bad for the umpteenth time would likely do me a world of good.

What I think is really cool and almost enviable about some writers is their ability and dedication to researching and diving deep into a topic, becoming incredibly knowledgable about their chosen subject(s) to the point where they are deemed experts. I admire the focus. I admire the time it takes. I admire the certainty they have to choose a path of inspiration and follow it.

How does that happen? Maybe, like most areas in my life where I feel that I am lacking, it all boils down to self confidence. Knowing oneself and believing in oneself.

When I got out of an abusive relationship in 2017, it took me a long time to figure out who I was and remember what I liked. So much of my time had been completely absorbed by this man. Helping him with things he was interested in. Watching him do the things that he liked to do. Listening to the music he liked listening to. Supporting his band by going to every practice and every gig. Because I was almost never alone (not by choice! he would show up to my job and my home unannounced and wouldn’t leave!), and when we were together my music and film choices were mocked by him, I lost a huge chunk of myself. When I started healing from that, when I started feeling safe in my own home to try enjoying my interests again, it felt like standing on a leg that had fallen asleep. Foreign and wrong and not belonging to me until with enough time and persistence it steadily became natural once more.

I wrote about this experience and how it felt, sometime once the healing process was underway:

Being possessed isn’t so bad when you feel like you’re being useful. To have a purpose and to do it well. Well, that’s worth living for. Being possessed isn’t so great when you feel like you’re being overlooked but you have nowhere else to go anyway because you already belong to someone or something even though it’s not benefiting you or making you feel good.

Heaping yourself into other wasted talent. Like the moment has passed and it’s not coming back so you just focus on fading away instead of finding something higher to contribute to, something of purpose, something that has a use, something that other people can benefit from and feel good about.

Like, who are you even? Why is this what we’re doing now?

It is not being possessed and kept away and feeling afraid to speak and not even knowing what your own thoughts are.

It is being possessed but you’re in on it, contracted terms agreed to by both parties but unspoken.

Editor’s note: Before I started editing the book I’m trying to sell now into a coherent narrative, it was a collection of disparate passages like the above.

Maybe I just don’t feel like I belong to anything. I’m not part of a scene or a group. I exist on the periphery, observing and wanting to take part but fearful that I wouldn’t be welcome. Maybe it’s because it’s been a long time since I’ve been in school and I am out of practice when it comes to research, and there is no deadline anvil over my head pressuring me to develop and prove a thesis statement. Maybe I just need to make a choice and take a risk and alter my timeline.

When it comes to thinking of people to model myself after, I think of people like Joe Budden (not his personal life, yall) and people like him. The kind of people who just kind of do what they want to do with their art without really feeling the need to get approval from anyone despite the fact that they almost certainly want approval from people, but even when they don’t get it that doesn't stop them from pursuing what they feel is important to them and I admire that. I admire their outspokenness and drive to accomplish their goals and create art. I admire their willingness to be seen as controversial or unlikable figures. And I think that's cool. I think that's understated. Everyone wants to be liked but not everyone's going to be liked by everyone and if you're able to thrive even if a lot of people happen to dislike you then I think that means you're following what's important to you. I want to follow what's important to me I think what's important to me is creating art while also trying to figure out how I feel about things.

Do you ever feel like this? Do you struggle with not knowing what you’re doing while knowing that you want to be doing something?

Do you want to belong?

Do you?

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We’ve been living in this apartment for a year now.

We moved in last November, around Thanksgiving, because we had been living with my parents for nine months after a roof issue at our South Philly rowhome forced us out. Our home is still unliveable and our contractor stopped responding to calls after taking a boatload of money from us, and this is still a topic I don’t really want to write about. The point is, we were wearing out our welcome with my mom and dad and we both wanted more privacy and our own space because we were expecting our second daughter.

Our second daughter is walking now. Insane how time flies.

Last week, I was having breakfast with my daughters as we usually do. My oldest, Zosia, gets up every day around 5:30am. Her routine is to come into my bedroom, wake me up, and snuggle for a little while until I feel like getting out of bed to remove my mouth guard, change my baby’s diaper, and make coffee. While we were sitting at the dining room table eating toast, I heard a loud banging coming from somewhere below us. It scared Zosia, but I told her “it’s probably pipes in the building.” A few mornings later, the Saturday after Thanksgiving, we were again having breakfast and I heard the banging again. A few minutes later, more banging. “I think that’s a person banging their ceiling,” I told my husband. A few minutes later, more banging. “I don’t like that sound,” Zosia said.

As we were leaving that afternoon to take a family walk, we found this note taped to the door:

Honestly, my gut reaction was to be annoyed. I thought the tone of the note was overly dramatic, especially the line “sapping us of our will to live.” The noise couldn’t be anything but my three year old going from room to room in the morning, but how could my three year old be making that much noise? Right before we walked out the door to take our walk, I took a photo of the note and posted it on Facebook with the caption:

the people below us have been banging their ceiling with a broom the past few mornings. today they left us this cool note. how should i respond to it besides saying “hi we have a 3 year old. get earplugs.”

Despite the snarky caption, I was sincerely asking for advice. And I did get a lot of good feedback from my Facebook friends, along with personal accounts of being on the receiving end of a noisy upstairs neighbor. There were also a lot of friends who validated my annoyance. When I told my mom about the note, she also validated my annoyance. I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to say in response, but I was determined to go down to their apartment and introduce myself and hear them out. I think hearing from friends who ultimately had to move out of their apartments because of their noisy upstairs neighbors made me more empathetic to my downstairs neighbors’ complaint.

Later that night, I thought it would be a good idea to get unbiased advice from people who don’t know me. Maybe part of me was excited to finally get one of those neighbor notes I see so frequently on Reddit. I posted about the note on r/apartmentliving and got downvoted to hell. Apparently, people on this particular subreddit do not like children. I also don’t think I explained the situation well enough. I think I was too eager to just post something, and people were very put off by my saying “my three year old loves running back and forth from her room to the dining room in the morning.” Nearly every response was that I’m a piece of shit and a bad parent and I should have my toddler watch cartoons in the morning instead of letting her stomp around and I’m inconsiderate for making so much noise. No one wants to hear that about themselves, even from complete strangers, but the most shocking response of all was “Why did I just see this on Threads? I hate the internet.”

Threads. Fucking Threads. Most of the time I completely forget that this app exists. There was a short window of time where I wasn’t using Twitter any longer and Threads was brand new and people were saying it was the new place for be for writers and artists to connect with each other so I tried it out for a few days before abandoning it. At some point I had adjusted the settings so that my Facebook posts would automatically be posted there, because why not? But Jesus Lord, this was truly a boomer moment for me. The snarky post I shared with Facebook friends was getting ripped to shreds by hundreds (maybe thousands) of random people on Threads. I had gone viral, unintentionally. I had accidentally posted rage bait. And the Threaders, they had definitely bitten.

Mortified that I had essentially doxed myself (there’s nothing crazy associated with my Reddit account, but I do belong to a subreddit dedicated to snarking on an extremely litigious failing podcaster, and I don’t want my real name attached to that) I deleted the Reddit post and my comments on the post, then went to Threads to delete that post. I didn’t read any of the comments before deleting, I just threw it right in the trash can. Later, while looking at the Facebook post, where I was still getting genuine advice about how to handle this situation with my neighbors, I discovered several derogatory comments that had been “hidden” by Facebook’s algorithm. Someone had come to my Facebook post from Threads, meaning they looked me up by my name since there is no direct link from my Threads profile to my Facebook profile, to dunk on me and accuse me of being too afraid to interact with the responses I was getting on Threads.

This is why this is a boomer moment for me. I would have never made a post like that on a platform like Threads. It’s the kind of snarky post I would put in a group chat, but not share on a largely public forum like Twitter. I am much more active on Twitter than I am on Threads, and I chose to not post about it on Twitter because I didn’t want that smoke. Had I remembered that I had my account linked to Threads, I absolutely would have shut off that feature for the post I put on Facebook.

Facebook, for all its shortcomings, has always been my comfy space where I go to post about my life and the things I’m excited or annoyed about. I’ve been on Facebook since 2004, more than 20 years (holy shit). I feel like people know me there. They have been with me for the long haul. They get my humor. They don’t immediately write me off when I post a bad take, or if they do decide to write me off they don’t leave comments calling me a scumbag. They simply unfriend or unfollow me. I’ve gotten plenty of criticism over the years, and I’ve grown and learned a lot from sharing and interacting with my 3,430 friends there (and my 4,900 followers).

My knee-jerk reaction post wasn’t taken literally on Facebook, but it was taken with zero charity on Threads, a place where rage bait proliferates.

Like those videos of people making ice cream sundaes in the toilet, just straight up wasting food because they know people will watch the video and get mad, I had inadvertantly contributed to the flow of content that gets pushed on social media.

Stripped of the context that comes along with knowing me as a person, it is very easy to say that what I posted is a shitty post. On its surface, it is a shitty post. Without the experience of interacting with me on a somewhat regular basis, someone could think that I was intending to respond to the note by basically telling my neighbors to buzz off. I can see that. I can see how someone would come to that conclusion. But it’s wrong.

Even though I was mad about the banging, and annoyed by the tone of the note, and annoyed that they left a note instead of attempting to speak with us in person by knocking on our door, I was always planning on hearing them out and trying to come to an agreement. I don’t want bad blood with anyone. Especially my neighbors. I feel like the only times I’ve ever told someone off is when I’m trying to cross the street and someone driving a car isn’t paying attention and nearly hits me because they didn’t stop at the stop sign.

Back to the neighbors. Yesterday, I tried knocking on their door at three different times to no avail. So I wrote a note, and taped it on their door:

And because I was curious how people on Threads would respond, I posted the update on Facebook and allowed it to post to Threads as well. After an hour or so, it only had a few views so I wrote:

of course this note won’t go viral bc it doesn’t give randos the opportunity to dunk on me and feel superior for a whiff of a moment

A little salty, a little sarcastic. A little peeved at the whole experience of inadvertantly posting rage bait and being called an asshole repeatedly.

Some hours later, it got picked up. I have no idea how the Threads algorithm works. I really wasn’t expecting anyone to see this post, especially since the initial viral post had been deleted, but apparently a lot of people did see it. At this point, it’s been liked over a thousand times. A lot of the people who had roasted me the day before came back to call me entitled and a coward for deleting the first post. A few told me I was playing victim in both the original post and the update.

This really makes me wonder about how I present myself online. Yes, I can be incredibly insecure. I have always invested too much energy into wanting to be liked. It probably stems from being bullied as a child for being dorky and wearing hand-me-down clothing. Maybe it’s the comments I tuck into my observations. Maybe it’s my framing. Maybe I’m still very afraid of people who are being mean to me. Am I playing a victim when I post about my life on social media? Is it main character syndrome to post on social media about something that annoyed me? Am I just setting myself up to get dunked on when I post on a public platform? Am I posting my own Ls when I’m baring my soul?

I guess I just really hate feeling misunderstood. I ended up replying to a bunch of the people who were calling me out, in addition to thanking the people who commended me for the thoughtful note to my neighbors. Some of the time I was able to win the roasters over, or at least get them to understand what happened with the post and the unintended share to Threads. I know that I care too much, and I shouldn’t. It’s not reasonable to get everyone who piled on to try to be my friend.

Why am I even writing about this? I don’t know. It is a very jarring experience to have so many strangers make judgments about my values and my parenting based on a stupid social media post. It almost makes me not want to post about my life anymore. I will probably still do it, because I’ve been blogging for over 20 years now, but I guess I will be more careful about what I’m posting and where it is being shared.

This is the second time I’ve gone viral. The first time was sometime during the pandemic when I posted a meme I made. I had seen a photo of a grown man getting his hair cut at a barber shop, but instead of sitting in a chair while he got his hair cut he was sitting on a motorcycle inside the shop. It made me think of those chairs they have for kids at the hair salon that look like airplanes or whatever, to ease any anxieties a kid might have about getting their hair cut. So I took the picture of the man on the motorcycle and put it next to a photo of a kid in an airplane chair and wrote the caption “same energy” and posted it to Twitter. It got a ton of likes and retweets from people who thought it was funny, as well as a ton of quote tweets and replies, some from the manosphere calling me misogynist slurs and from others calling me a killjoy and scolding me about letting people enjoy things.

I remember replying to a bunch of those people, as well. Arguing with them, I think. I don’t know why.

Back to my neighbors. They wrote back on my note and taped it on my door not long after I had written and posted mine. They were really sweet about the whole thing, and I feel good about how I approached the situation.

My takeaway from the experience is most of the time, if possible, it’s better to sleep on your feelings than it is to react right away. If you don’t have the luxury of sleeping on your feelings, give it a few minutes. Everyone gets annoyed, especially when someone else is telling them how to live their life, but it’s usually not worth it to escalate the situation and cause conflict. Even if you feel justified, compassion and kindness will often inspire others to respond with compassion and kindness. Knee-jerk reactions and hostility just breeds more bad feelings.

There a lot of people on social media who are just looking to unload on you for whatever reason. They would likely never say out loud what they easily and willingly post in a comment section. I’m not great at this, but I have been trying to be better about remembering that and giving people grace, even when I don’t think they deserve it. Sometimes people surprise me, and I end up with a new friend. And sometimes people are just dickheads.

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The past few weeks I’ve been struggling with sleep. I am still cosleeping with my baby and neither of us are sleeping through the night. It’s taking a toll on my mental health. I don’t feel spry enough to finish an essay I started a couple of weeks ago, so in lieu of abandoning the readers of this weblog, I decided to do a little listicle of things I love, hate, and aspire toward, in the style of . Here it is.

Things I Love

• recreating the ultimate autumn of my youth in my mind whenever I am clean and dressed nicely and wearing Coco Chanel perfume

• this meme

  

• drinking dark roast coffee, black, first thing in the morning

• watching city squirrels nibble on all the pumpkins and gourds on people’s steps

• my children, obviously, but in particular spending time with them individually is a joy and I get to give them all the attention that they each deserve (my three year old is still dealing with some jealousy of having to share my attention with her sister, so taking her out for a solo date with mommy is a special treat for both of us)

• my new book on the shelf at Powell’s

  

• showering alone with a Polar Grapefruit

• writing in a notebook with an ultra fine point permanent marker

• reading other people’s hot takes that I ultimately disagree with but am unable to articulate into a coherent argument

• thinking of a cool line for a poem or a story idea and not immediately forgetting it

• when I notice my three year old repeating phrases she’s heard me say such as “you tell me” when I ask her a question and “I don’t know, what do you think?”

• painting with my three year old, who is a way more visionary artist than I could ever aspire to be

• when I tweet something that I think is funny and it pops off

• the hand rolled noodles at Shan Dong in Oakland, CA

  

• remembering to drink water

• the random photos my three year old takes on my phone

  

• giving stuff away

• looking at MCM furniture on Facebook Marketplace and not buying it

• younger and more progressive people running for political office

Things I Hate

• clutter

• having too much stuff

• having a headache

• having to get my hair cut every eight weeks

• crumbs on the furniture

• feeling tired all the time

• dry skin on my heels

• drivers who blow through stop signs and red lights, drivers who only look out for oncoming traffic and take no notice of pedestrians in the crosswalk before turning onto a street, drivers who speed down residential streets, and any other manner of driving which is dangerous to the public

• this one little witchy hair that grows out my chin that I have to tweeze every few months

• needing a diiferent style of charger for every appliance

• being the only person in the house who cleans out the cat litter

• when I want to watch a movie but I know I only have the attention span to half-listen to a podcast playing in the background while scrolling Reddit or playing Pokemon Go on my phone

• when I don’t remember to drink water until right before bedtime

• scam posts on Facebook Marketplace, which are obvious because an authentic and dingless MCM credenza would not be going for less than $300

• the constant and sisyphean flow of laundry in a home with two children

Things I Aspire Toward

• having a permanent home where I live with my family of four and not paying a mortgage on a gutted rowhome that we evacuated nearly two years ago, as well as not paying rent on a two-bedroom apartment

• sleeptraining my almost ten month old daughter

• owning fewer things

• becoming a minimalist, in general

• developing a weight training routine and sticking to it

• sleeping eight hours undisturbed

• being a hot mom and feeling comfortable in my mom body

• finishing the writing projects I’ve been working on or thinking about working on including a number of book reviews that I said I would do

• framing more art and hanging it on the walls of my apartment

  

• having free time

What are you loving, hating, and aspiring toward these days?

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Josh Dale (of Thirty West Publishing House) and I are putting together the 4th annual iteration of a writers party (a series of events happening online and in Philly as an alternative to AWP) and we’re accepting events and workshop proposals.

Everything is free! Everything is produced by our fellow literary community members! Everything is fun and created with you in mind! If you would like to participate, we would love to have you! Think of Josh and I as cruise directors on a ship comunally operated by you and a bunch of friends you’ve yet to meet.

A Writers Party 2026 will take place March 18th through March 22nd, two weeks after the actual AWP as a sort of “decompression” for anyone going to Baltimore for the offsites or the actual conference or whatever.

This past year’s series was baller. We had five days full of workshops, live readings, and panels. I know 2026 will produce a festival equal to or greater than.

To quote myself describing the ethos behind A Writers Party 2025, and remains the ethos of what you can expect for A Writers Party 2026:

I think it’s important to be a good literary citizen, and part of that (for me, at least) means making literary events and writing workshops accessible to everyone and anyone. Don’t get me wrong, AWP is fun, and I’ve gotten to meet a ton of wonderful writers and friends by attending over the years, but I also realize and understand that not everyone can afford to travel or take time off work for the big, corporate-funded writing conference. For those of us who want to participate in something literary and community-oriented, may I please present to you A Writers Party <3

We hope you can join us, and create with us. We’re looking forward to reading your workshop and event proposals. The link to submit a proposal is here.

Please feel free to reach out to me directly with any questions.

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It’s easy to give into. And there’s a good chance it’ll never go away. If you let it keep you from even starting, you’ve already lost.

So many of us have it. There is an opinion I’ve seen that posits if you think you have imposter syndrome you’re probably just an imposter, that in order to have imposter syndrome you must actually be good at what you do. That’s some gatekeeper shit. It’s built to get under your skin, to keep yourself from starting.

What am I talking about? I am talking about writing and never feeling good enough. Feeling like I constantly have to justify to myself why I am writing. Convincing myself that I have the audacity to write in the first place. This all stems from how I see myself in the world, and I don’t think I’m alone here.

Where did the idea some from? That writing is some sort of closed book social club and if you aren’t a card carrying member you shouldn’t bother even trying to write. I remember back in the Alt Lit Gossip days, people would share their poems and short stories in the group but feel the need to preface it with a disclaimer: “I don’t think I can call myself a writer, but here is something I’ve written.” You have written something, you actively write, you think about writing, you participate in a community that cares about writing, doesn’t that all make you a writer? Writer is not some honorary title. You don’t need a degree to designate yourself as one.

I participated in a panel last week. I was one of three “emerging writers” who were asked to think of questions about the publishing world to ask three established writers with major book deals. My first question was about imposter syndrome:

Maybe this is my own insecurity/imposter syndrome showing itself, but what I’m always so curious about is how other writers take themselves seriously. It’s a goal of mine, to take myself seriously. What gives you courage to take leaps and solidify your identity as a writer? Were there ever times you’ve felt discouraged about your career, where the effort seemed futile? What turned it around for you?

The responses from the three established writers suprised me. They all still feel imposter syndrome and it’s a battle they face every time they try to write. Even with bylines in The Washington Post, The Believer, LitHub, et ceterea, they’re all chasing a publishing high that feels impossible to achieve, they all feel like they haven’t done enough, that they want more.

Fake it til you make it? More like, fake it forever because everyone else is doing the same. Unless you’re Toni Morrison or Stephen King or something. Maybe when you get to that point you stop caring about the naysayers in the back of your head, or maybe you don’t but they get less noisy. I guess only Ms. Morrison or Mr. King know the answer to that.

In conclusion, writing can be sacred, but publishing really is not. Publishing is commercial. If you don’t feel like you’re a part of a scene, then make one. Publish your own work, and share the writing of writers you love. Returning to Twitter has brought me back in touch with a writing community I used to participate in, but stepped away from once I started a family. I needed some time and space to myself and my children, but my bandwidth is freeing up now. It feels nice to reconnect with folks and meet new people as well.

There are a ton of writers who are writing right now who want their work to be read, and there’s a good chance you’ll enjoy and connect with some of it. It doesn’t matter what size your audience is. The fact that you’re writing and the fact that you’re trying is enough. You should always want to be better. You should always be reading. You should always be striving to make something original and important to you. That’s what makes you a writer. And if you find yourself feeling dissatisifed with what you’ve accomplished or doubtful about what you’re writing, I think that only means that there is a passion within you, and a commitment to constantly improve in your lifelong vocation.

I like writing shorter posts. I think I’ll do this more often.

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I think it’s a waste of resources and major polluter (see here, here, here), it’s making people stupider (it’s hard to imagine wanting to use Grok to explain a tweet instead of using critical thinking or looking up the source, or using AI to summarize an email, but apparently people are doing this all the time), it’s making people less creative (at the time of writing this post, I’ve seen dozens of people on my timelines share the same “photo” featuring Ghostface from the movie Scream which they “created” on Google Gemini using step-by-step instructions shared online), and it’s furthering the sowing of distrust in the news, images, and videos we see posted on the internet.

The past couple of weeks I’ve been ruminating on what I want to say here, and maybe this post would have only taken minutes for me to write if I had consulted with a chatbot but I think I’d rather die.

This morning I posted on Facebook that the implications of deepfake videos are “terrifying” and someone (who I don’t really know but I think added me from a philosophy group on Facebook years ago) called me “reactionary.” Well, actually they first commented: “Everyone is conservative about what they know best.” I replied back that it sounded like some word art you’d buy at HomeGoods. After some back and forth, I asked what their point was and that’s when they called me a reactionary. Okay, and? I didn’t want to argue further.

I just don’t think I want to live in a world where someone could easily make a convincing looking fake video of random people.

This technology is already being used for some seriously sinister purposes. A friend of mine got a spoofed phonecall from his wife’s phone number where the person on the other line was demanding a ransom. My friend could hear a woman screaming in the background. He realized it was a fake call, but it was chilling nonetheless. This is somewhat more sophisticated than the scams we already see on a regular basis that typically prey on the eldery: calls from (usually) foreign phone numbers by a robot voice claiming to be “the local cops” and threatening to arrest the recipient for unpaid FastTrak bills or whatever unless some action is taken.

Uncanny valley is truly a thing, and thankfully I can still tell when something is fake. I think most of us can. But one can only imagine what future scams will look like as it gets increasingly more difficult to differentiate between what is real and what is AI generated. Gosh, I know, I really am sounding like a reactionary against this newfangled technology. But it just tingles something wrong within me.

“I think it’s time to start a conversation about what a digital bill of rights looks like in respect to those living past and present and future,” my friend Joshua Robert Long posted in response to my feelings on deepfakes. I fully agree. I have no idea what that looks like, or how that would come about, but I think it’s an important discussion that we need to collectively have. What are we doing with this AI shit? How will it impact us? And how can we make sure it’s being used for good.

Anyway. I want to talk about this piece I had published a couple years ago.

In 2023, I had a piece published on Maudlin House called Don’t Download A Boyfriend From The Dark Web at 3 A.M.

It’s a silly piece, sprung from the loins of a series of tweets I composed at some point in 2020 or 2021 while stuck in traffic on the freeway in a Lyft in San Francisco, making my way home to the East Bay after a dental appointment and the subsequent hours in the afternoon walking around the city and making an adventure out of being in my old neighborhood. During the thick of the pandemic I was hardly ever in the city. I worked from home, took walks up and down the hills near my home during my self-mandated breaks from sitting at the computer (something about working from home seemed to mean I was always available to work, from the time I woke up at 7am until I eventually went to bed after midnight), and would walk or take public transit to meet up with friends usually in the East Bay somewhere. So going to San Francisco, once an every-weekday thing, became a once in a while treat. If I had to be there for one reason or another, I would plan several hours before and after my obligation in order to have some solo exploring time in the city I loved so much.

This particular day, I went straight to my teeth cleaning, and then stopped at the Brazilian bakery nearby to get a bag of these deep fried pastries filled with stewed chicken and cream cheese that I don’t know the name of but crave to this day. Afterward, I met up with Amy and walked around Golden Gate Park for a while until she had to get back to work, and then I spent the rest of the afternoon traipsing through the Panhandle area, making sure to walk by Masonic and Goldengate and try to catch a glimpse inside my old apartment, which had been renovated and gentrified in the time since I had moved out. Before heading back, I went over to Divisadero and stopped at Souvla and picked up a couple of salads (one with no oranges, for Adrian, and the other with no feta, for me) and a bag of fries to take home for dinner. Then I called a Lyft.

It was the end of a workday and traffic was intense. The car moved inches at a time towards the Bay Bridge. As soon as we hit the freeway, I regretted my choice and knew that I probably should have taken BART back to Berkeley. Worried about the fries getting cold, I thought using rideshare would get me there quicker. With no book to read, I made the most of looking out the window and observing the concrete landscape festooned with billboards plastered with tech speak and corporate lingo and acronymns I was unfamiliar with.

As an aside, one thing I have always found amusing is how every city’s billboards reflect the surrounding culture. In San Francisco: it’s software solutions for tech startups. In Los Angeles: the billboards are mostly for new movies and television shows. When I moved back to Philadelphia in 2022, I noticed that the advertisements greeting drivers making their way from the airport into Center City feature either personal injury lawyers, snack foods, and reminders to wear a condom. What does that say about Philly?

On this particular day, all the ads mentioning VC money, A/B testing, APIs, and SOCs got my juices flowing and I started tweeting out little jokes, imagining a scenario where I downloaded a boyfriend from the internet who spoke in that kind of vernacular and behaved robotically. It was a fun way to pass the time, and I kept at it with the hope that maybe I would turn it into something bigger one day, as I like to believe my Twitter activity are kernels of ideas for art pieces that are yet to be fully realized.

It wasn’t until 2023, when I was invited to perform at an April Fools-themed event alongside several comedians, that I went back to those tweets. I had already copy/pasted them into a doc for an event I had read at several years before. They had gotten some laughs at that event, but I thought I could probably do better. This was my original set:

I sold my soul on the dark web

Downloading a boyfriend from the dark web

Don’t Download a Boyfriend From The Dark Web at 3 A.M.

I Downloaded a Boyfriend From the Dark Web and THIS HAPPENED (emotional)

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3 a.m. and he won’t stop commenting on my waist to hip ratio

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3am and he told me i have too many tabs open in my browser window

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3AM and he keeps calling everything “based”

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3AM and he says he wants to “blackpill” me

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3am and he got annoyed when I pulled a prime number out of my ass. He spent 10 minutes trying to find a number out was divisible by. It was 1097.

People i used to fuck often text me to say that the boyfriend i downloaded from the dark web at 3AM is a lucky guy.

The boyfriend i downloaded from the dark web at 3AM likes waking me up by reading me headlines from Hacker News

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3AM and he used my phone to ubereats a pizza from 7-11

My mom called and asked me if i see a future with the boyfriend i downloaded from the dark web at 3am.

Thinking of a way to tell the boyfriend i downloaded from the dark web that i want to get my IUD removed

I think me and the boyfriend i downloaded from the dark web at 3 am are in love but neither of us wants to be the first one to tell the other about it

Just got guilted about not working on my novel by my boyfriend who I downloaded from the darkweb at 3 a.m.

The boyfriend i downloaded from the dark web at 3am removed my IUD with his teeth (heartwarming)

Falling in love again with the boyfriend I downloaded from the dark web at 3 AM as he holds my cat in his arms and sings him the Reading Rainbow theme song.

I downloaded a boyfriend from the dark web at 3AM and he told me i need to delete my social media

My dad called to ask if I’m bringing my boyfriend I downloaded from the dark web at 3AM to Thanksgiving this year

At first I thought I would just write a few more tweet-style short jokey-things, so that’s what I did. But it felt incomplete. I sent my set to a friend and they suggested I build it out. So I thought about it some more and started crafting a narrative around the tweets. The final product definitely feels more fleshed out.

At the time, I didn’t know much about AI or the dark web, but I enjoyed the lore created by Jaystation who made loud and childish Youtube videos about summoning entities from the dark web at 3 A.M. I don’t think he knew how the dark web works either, which makes it funnier to me. Basing my uninformed idea of the dark web around his uninformed idea of the dark web.

It’s funny for me to look back on this story. Those times felt simpler.

If someone uses AI to cure cancer or do something good for humanity, maybe I’ll change my mind about it. But right now I remain firm that it has ghoulish implications and is being overused by people who could do better going outside and talking to people.

The only time I used ChatGPT was when I was trying to figure out the name of a song so I could listen to it for research. It was a song I had watched the music video for back in 2016. Someone I used to be friends with (who I now have blocked) posted it on their Facebook page. The only things I could remember about the music video was that it took place at night time in a city scape (maybe on a roof top) and the only things I could remember about the song was that it came out sometime in the 2010s, was house music style, and that there was a lyric fragment “what I did last night” that kept getting repeated. When I described this in as much detail as I could muster to ChatGPT, including the time frame in which the song/video was produced, it kept giving me obviously wrong answers. “Perhaps you’re thinking about the song ‘Another Night’ by Real McCoy” the chat bot suggested, among other songs it definitely was not.

I probably could have done better if I had crowdsourced the ask on Reddit or Facebook (which was actually incredibly helpful to me when I was trying to figure out the name of the song “Got You (Where I Want You)” by The Flys some years ago, which I had heard in a Lyft once and had no way to describe it except it sounded like “Doll Skin” by Toadies and had a strong bass line. My friend, Cyn, was one of the first people to comment on my post and had the right answer. The other comments left on the thread inspired me to make a playlist of 90s sentimental altrock deep cuts, a playlist I still listen to today.

Crowdsourcing, talking to people, writing out your own thoughts and racking your own brain. That’s the shit. I love it when I am trying to remember something, and then after a moment of clearing my brain or working on something else it will come back to me. Eureka. Do I sound like a fuddyduddy when I hope out loud that people will give up their reliance on AI? We simply don’t need to use it the way people have been using it recently. What do you think?

Finally, I would like to thank everyone who purchased an advanced copy of Sick of Being Inside Myself! You are beautiful and amazing and your support means everything to me. If you would like to purchase a copy, you may do so on Asterism. And if you’ve read the book and liked it, I would love it if you left a review on Goodreads. Thank you.

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My three-year-old is starting school and I can’t believe how big she is now. My eight month old is fully crawling, and I suspect she will be walking soon. She keeps trying. I can’t help but wonder where the time has gone, among other cliches.

There’s something about back to school season that strikes up this wistful fire within me. It’s the same feeling I get when I wish I could listen to The Chronic again for the first time. I miss going back to school. I miss having that kind of purpose every day. The other day, I walked past a subway entrance exhaling a familiar scent of brake dust and antiseptic cleaner and a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It represents a simpler time, one where anything seemed possible.

My freshman year at Temple University, I was living at home with my parents still and would take the subway to go to school every day. If I had spent the night at my friends’ filthy party apartment in Northeast Philly, there were a series of buses I would take to get to school the next morning, usually with an extra large cup of coffee from Dunkin Donuts to wake me up. My portable CD player kept me company on those commutes, and the bootleg CDs I bought from the folding table sellers a block off campus opened up a new musical world for me. Ten dollars could get me five different albums, or mixtapes from DJs who to this day I can find no trace of online (DJ McBoo, where are you?), burned onto cheap plastic discs. Riding on public transit is pleasurable when you’ve got Neptunes Present… Clones to provide a soundtrack to the scenes glanced at from a moving vehicle that you will always be taken back to and can never separate from whenever you hear the grinding synthetic organs of “Popular Thug” by Kelis featuring Nas.

I feel like I could write an entire essay on this topic, but I won’t do that right now. I am not in the mood. Which brings me to…

I haven’t been feeling creative. The only times I am compelled to write this year are the times a small twinge of envy creeps into me when I see my peers posting on social media about all the cool shit they’re doing. I pull out a notepad, wishing I could also be chasing my dreams and crushing my goals, but when I actually sit down to write I find myself confessing the many reasons I no longer feel creative and why it frustrates me. No doubt this is not writing meant to be enjoyed. Perhaps it could be related to by some, but I’m sure others have written on the subject already and did a better job.

There are stirrings within me and I do sometimes jot down an idea or poem fragment, but I tend to prioritize rest and turning off my brain when I get some spare moments to myself. I know it will not always be this way, and I will be creative again, so I try not to feel too bad about it. I am focusing on being present.

Despite all of that, I do have a new book out this month, however! My latest offering, Sick of Being Inside Myself, is being published by House of Vlad Press and contains poems and short stories written by me between the years of 2015 and 2024. My Posey Taste Like: The Paradise Lost Edition, my last poetry collection from 2017 was wholly inspired by the music of Lana Del Rey. Sick of Being Inside Myself is a meditation on a life consumed by watching movies and TV.

If you want to get a copy, you can order it through Asterism. Also, if you’re in Philly this weekend, I’ll be doing a soft launch of the book and reading alongside some local giants at the September installment of Bring a Blanket Reading Series.

I’m back on Twitter. Maybe tweeting will help spark some new process in me for getting poems together. It used to help back in the day, channeling that spirit of composition meets competition into perfctly worded little thought bombs to mine and extrapolate on later. After being on Twitter consistently this past week I think some of the ideas I have for Substack posts could be better suited just posted as a tweet. It would still serve the same purpose, just take up less of everyone’s time. I’m not sure.

To cap this off, I’ll ask a question. What are some of your favorite albums (or types of music) to listen to during this time of year? I know for sure that I’m not the only one who gets super stoked for pumpkin spice playlists.

Some albums that feel like this transitional period from summer to fall to me are:

50 Cent - Get Rich or Die Tryin

Dr. Dre - The Chronic

The Neptunes - Neptunes Present… Clones

The Modern Lovers - The Modern Lovers

The Cure - Pornography

Blink 182 - The Mark, Tom, and Travis Show

Tell me yours.