Community Witch - Tumblr Posts

55,000 words in!

I haven't done NaNoWriMo since I had Cara, because 50,000 words is an impossible amount of words to write in only 30 days while juggling a job and parenting responsibilities. However, yesterday I passed 55,000 words on the novel (it STILL doesn't have a name), with a bit more than 40,000 of those words having been written since October 13th.

It also puts me two thirds of the way through my outline, which is wild. I've written (and then sat on) four novels before this, but this has definitely been the quickest and easiest. No doubt because queer romance is a lot more fun to think about than all the transphobic bullshit out there right now. (Picture is the finished coloring job I did on the sketch I posted previously)

Finished this art of the protags in my current fantasy romance project. Overall really happy with how it turned out.

Coming up on the one-year anniversary of going no-contact with my mother, which happened as a direct result of her ruining Christmas with transphobic bullshit. Hyperfocusing on making stories about queer people finding love, building found family, and caring for one another has been the only thing that's really worked for me this Time Is Goo season to avoid feeling crushed with sadness all the time.

I meant to do a lot of writing over the break, but injuring my left hand put the brakes on that. Thankfully, being right handed means I can still draw, so I've been making a lot of art of the main characters from my current queer romance project.

Having fun with ace representation

Comments I have made to my editor while talking about one of the main characters in my queer poly triad fantasy romance who is ace, pan, and demi. "Hence why he's such a wholesome dumbass"

"I was being intentionally vague on whether Rav was demiromantic, demisexual, or both. For people like me who are so asexual that I've literally only ever been attracted to. Like. Less than twenty people, it's a meaningless distinction." "I literally forget that people experience attraction all the time" "Me, routinely: why do people do X? My friends: you forgot sexual attraction exists again, didn't you? Me: oh. Yeah. I did." "Honestly trying to provide ace representation is infuriating as an ace myself because. Look. I love me a label, okay? I collect them. I'm a connoisseur. But the aces went too far." "I would die for all of them, but Rav in particular. He is my wholesome asexual son."

NOVEL MANUSCRIPT IS FINISHED

Last summer, I started tossing around ideas for what I at first thought was a game, then realized was a cozy queer fantasy romance novel. I messed around with it for a bit but didn't start seriously writing until September - and managed to finish the 75K word first draft just before Christmas. I started the second draft in January, which was followed by feedback from beta readers, developmental editing by Kit, and even more rewriting after that. But I'm happy to say that as of twenty minutes ago, the manuscript is FINISHED at a final count of 86,264 words.

I have an opportunity for a shortcut introduction that may or may not pan out WRT getting it published (I'm DONE with the hassle of self-publishing, frankly). If it doesn't, I've made a list of likely-looking agents to submit to. (Hopefully it doesn't come to that, though? Gosh that would be nice.)

I've loved the process of writing this book, and it's hard to say goodbye to these characters - even if I'm so very ready to call this first book done. Which is probably why I'm 53,000 words into the first draft of the sequel already! So. You know. Hopefully I can find someone willing to take on #1 before I finish #2.

Got my first rejection for my queer romance novel!

A bit disappointing that it was from the only agent on my list that had they/them pronouns in their bio, but oh well.

3 submissions, 1 rejection, 2 still outstanding (out of a list of 31)

(original drabble - Okay to reblog)

Jake's stomach twisted itself in knots as he stared at himself in the mirror, increasingly convinced that he'd made a big mistake. After all, the fact that it was an illusion didn't necessarily make his human face any less real, and after so many years of it felt a lot more natural than the one staring back at him with pebbly grey skin, red eyes, and tousled blond hair that didn't entirely cover two short black horns.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

The door opened behind him as his fiance (soon-to-be-husband!) Victor slipped into the room.

"Vic!" Jake whirled to face him. "You're can't... We're not--"

Vic smirked. "Neither of us are brides here, so we've got nothing to worry about."

"But..." Jake grimaced and turned back toward the mirror, an unpleasant jolt running through him at the sight of the demonic features staring back at him.

"Hey." Vic crossed the room to put a gentle hand on Jake's shoulder. "Babe. What's going on? Talk to me."

"I..." Jake hunched in on himself. "I'm not sure I want anyone to see me like this."

"Like what. Like yourself?" Vic's voice was gentle, his smile missing its habitual edge.

Jake opened and closed his mouth several times. "Well. I mean. When you put it like that."

Victor's smile widened into a teasing grin. "Besides, there's only half an hour until the ceremony starts, and your potion takes a full day to kick in. So unless you want to call off the wedding..."

"Maybe I do," Jake grumped.

"You don't mean that," Victor said confidently, leaning forward to kiss Jake.

What initially started as reassurance turned into something else as heat flared between them. Jake kissed his fiance like he was drowning and Victor was his only lifeline, and when Victor finally broke the kiss Jake could only stare stupidly at him - all previous thoughts having vanished from his brain.

"I am not letting you ruin my suit," Victor asaid sternly.

Jake stared fondly at Victor's face, loving the sight of the flushed cheeks and kiss-reddened lips that he had caused. "You know," he said with a smirk. "Soon I'm going to have your body and your soul."

Victor's answering smile was warm and so, so full of promise. "I can't wait."

(Was looking for some drabble prompts and found this one. Happy with how this turned out!)

Prompt #11

Demon: The Demon smirked. Soon he would have both, the other’s body and soul.

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) ---

“My life has turned into a Lifemark movie,” Aspen groaned, flopping dramatically onto their bed. “Thirty year old enby leaves the big city, including their terrible partner and the job they hate, to move to a beautiful small town, has meet cute with beautiful stranger before running into The One That Got Away.”

There was a choking sound on the other end of the line.

“You’re allowed to laugh,” Aspen grumbled. “Even I think it’s ridiculous, and I’m living it.”

Becks didn’t laugh, but Aspen could hear the grin in her voice. “I assume the beautiful stranger is Rav, but who is The One That Got Away?”

“Remember that guy I was hopelessly in love with in high school? The wholesome football player?”

“Maybe?”

“My best friend? The one that was over all the time?”

“Oh my god, that himbo you tutored, then pined for the rest of high school? The one you wanted to smash from orbit?”

“Not a himbo,” Aspen bristled, unable to argue with the rest of Becks’ description. “Anyway. She’s Nat now. I ran into her at the gym just now when I was dropping off cards around town. And we’re going to catch up when she’s done with work.”

This time, Becks did laugh – gleeful peals that made Aspen smile despite themself.

Moodboard for Community Witch - my recently-finished queer fantasy romance novel. (Currently working on getting it published) Artists (where I could find credits): @kelpls Xiao Tong Kong A. Szabla Abz J Harding @mechinaries Simz Celtilia

Snippet from Book 2: Since his mom was out, Corey sent her a text saying that he was heading to Yulia's, then messaged Yulia to say he wasn't feeling well and was staying home that evening. With any luck, he'd be back before they found out he'd lied to both of them.

Update: WELP. IT HAPPENED.

Apparently I'm writing a multi-chapter fanfic of characters from a novel that hasn't been published yet to work through That Trans Shit idk

---

[Set in the universe of Community Witch - my queer polyamorous romance novel that I'm currently working on getting published.] Dee jumped as Corey dropped onto the couch beside them, having been too lost in thought to register that he had returned from his errand.

"So," he said ominously.

Dee looked at the sketchbook in their lap and winced at the blank page staring up at them. "Yes?"

Their partner patiently took the sketchbook and set it on the coffee table, forcing Dee to look up at him. "You're doing that thing again," he admonished gently. "Where you have a crisis and refuse to talk to anyone about it."

"I don't... I mean. It's not--"

Corey gave them a Look. "You do," he said irritably, tapping his chest in an oblique reminder of their magical bond. "And even just getting the edges of whatever it is you're worrying about is enough to give me a headache. So stop shutting me out and just... talk to me?"

Dee's resistance crumbled at the softness in his infuriatingly beautiful brown eyes. "Is Yulia...?"

"She'll be working outside for a while, but we could go upstairs if you like."

Dee nodded jerkily, the thought of being interrupted by the old woman who had essentially adopted them both still somehow completely overwhelming.

Corey's lips twitched into a smile as he abruptly slung them over his shoulder, lifting them effortlessly to carry them toward the stairs. Dee laughed despite themself and didn't bother to pretend, as they usually did, that they didn't enjoy it.

Once upstairs, he tossed them onto the bed before kicking the door behind him. However, when Dee stretched provocatively and batted their eyes flirtatiously, he just settled onto the bed next to them with a look that said he wasn't going to fall for their stalling tactics this time.

There was a long, horrible silence.

"This is the part where you say things," Corey finally prompted.

- - -

Dee felt as if they'd been pounded flat and hung out to dry by the time they were done crying. Once they'd cleaned themself up, they lay listlessly in Corey's arms, too physically miserable to really feel any of their emotions.

"So. Wanting to do more transition," Corey prompted. "What does that mean?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Dee confessed. "I know that I want a dick, but I don't want surgery. Eighty percent satisfaction rate isn't high enough. And. I think I want top surgery. But I'm not sure." They paused to take a deep shuddering breath. "I'm not sure I want to give up what it feels like when you. Um. Touch them."

Corey made the thoughtful noise that Dee had long since learned to interpret as his "processing" sound. When he finally spoke, his tone was cautious. "You might not need surgery. I could... if you wanted, that is. Look into using magic?"

Dee blinked. "I thought you didn't--"

"I don't." He grimaced. "I mean, witchcraft doesn't work for that kind of thing. But I know some very highly placed fae who, as you may remember, owe me some pretty fucking big favors."

Dee couldn't help but goggle at him. "And you'd be willing to use them... for me?"

"I want you to be happy," Corey repeated earnestly. "Just." He smiled and brushed a stray hair away from their eye. "We're talking about fae, so the devil is very much in the details here. You'd need to take time to decide what you do and don't want."

Dee nodded. "I will. And." They picked anxiously at his shirt. "You'll still want to have sex with me? If that's what I want?"

"No surgery means no nerve damage, which means playing with your nipples will still be just as fun. Not to mention..." Corey smiled wolfishly. "Getting to figure out what makes you come all over again sounds pretty hot."

Dee laughed tremulously as the tight knot of anxiety inside them finally began to loosen. "I should have known you'd get hot and bothered about getting to do more research."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Corey shot back, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "There are so many questions that need answering. How will you feel about handjobs? Blowjobs? Do you still want me to fuck you, or would you rather fuck me?"

Dee's mouth went dry as they were hit with a sudden mental image of Corey moaning in pleasure as their cock slid into him - something they hadn't even known they wanted until he said it.

"See?" he said smugly, pulling them down into a long slow kiss. "Research is great."

tfw you're still working on a second draft of a novel and you have the almost undeniable urge to write fanfic of your own novel because you've got Some Trans Shit To Work Through

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) --- Aspen snorted. “What am I even going to do about tonight? I don’t know that it’s a date, but if it is… what do I do about coffee with Rav next week?”

Becks’ answering sigh was a mix of fond and exasperated. “First, it’s coffee, not a betrothal. Second, porque no los dos?”

“What?”

“It means ‘why not both’.”

“I know perfectly well what it means. But--”

Becks cut Aspen off. “You can date more than one person.”

Aspen scoffed. “I’m still not convinced I’m not too much of a disaster for one relationship, let alone two.”

“Look. Stop being a weirdo and go get dinner with the hot jock, okay?” Aspen heard Rachel yell something in the background, which Becks then repeated for Aspen’s benefit. “And send photos.”“I will not,” Aspen said firmly, then hung up.

10 years ago, I really enjoyed urban fantasy where the vibe was "every mythical creature is real, but the myths got a lot of stuff wrong", but got to the point where most urban fantasy was too grimdark for me to read when everything in the world is, like, actively on fire.

And then I got, like, SUPER into cozy fantasy TTRPGs. So when I started writing my first queer romance novel it seemed really natural to make the setting "urban fantasy, but make it cozy". And honestly, it's been such a jam riffing on all my favorite folklore. Like:

What if witch was a job that you could have, and witching was publicly funded and had its own governing body, and you could go to witch school and become a registered witch?

What if your mail carrier was a demon, but hell was just a place people are from sometimes, like Mississauga, that is crappy so people want to leave? But the stigma against demons means he's too afraid to act on his crush on the trans guy who owns the local cafe?

What if there was a bargheist hanging around, but he was just a big scary doggo who was looking for someone to take him in?

What if the Seelie and Unseelie Courts were two different flavors of assholes and lots of fae from both Courts slum it in the mortal realm so they don't have to deal with 200 year old beef about That Minorly Inconvenient Thing That Happened at a Party?

What if Baba Yaga was sighted on hiking paths in a tourist town and the local witch had to put up signs saying "DO NOT TAKE SELFIES WITH THE CHICKEN HUT"?

I'm having a fucking blast, tbh, especially with the fae, since it's a chance to write real fucking weird perspectives on gender (which makes me happy as a trans nb).

It’s reverse worldbuilding Wednesday!! Writers, come into my inbox and tell me about your worldbuilding!! Doesn’t matter what it is, I would love to hear it!

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.) --- As they drifted back to Nat’s car, the anxiety beast clawed its way back with a vengeance, keeping Aspen from working up the nerve to take Nat’s hand. What if they had misread Nat’s interest? What if all she wanted was to be friends? Surely it couldn’t be this easy the second time around? It was only when they pulled up in front of their house that Aspen managed to wrestle their anxiety down enough to blurt out the question that had been burning in their mind the entire night.

“Was this a date?”

Nat smiled, as calmly unflappable as ever, and cocked her head. “Did you want it to be?” she asked softly.

Aspen felt their face grow suddenly, painfully warm and nodded, unwilling to trust their voice. Nat’s smile grew, and Aspen’s breath hitched as she slowly took their hand and stroked their palm with her thumb. “Then yes, it was a date.” She leaned forward slowly, looked down at their lips, then back up into their eyes. “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Snippet from my queer polyamorous romance novel, Community Witch - an unapologetically trope-y, cozy, and relationship-driven romance story about the healing from trauma, found family, and joyful queer relationships. (Looking to publish next year.)

---

Aspen glanced around the space but couldn’t identify anything strange. Neither were they able to sense any obvious malevolence. “Does anything here look out of place to you?”

Rav looked around, then shook his head. “Not here. But mostly it stays back in the studio.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door behind the register. “Which is back here.”

Aspen, who had hung out with a lot of artists in university, had expected chaos and mess. They were surprised to instead see a studio that was so immaculate and neatly organized that it barely looked as if it were in use. Even more surprising was Rav’s sudden inarticulate cry of anguish as he strode over to a painting in progress on an easel. “I wasn’t done with that!” he yelled in frustration at the ceiling.

“I take it something was moved?” Aspen asked mildly from the doorway.

“It put my paints away! And the brushes I was using!” Rav gestured in frustration at the large unit of pull-out drawers. “I left out the colors I was using so I’d be able to match them!”

“And… the ghost put them away?”

Rav held up a finger, clearly mistaking their confusion for skepticism. “I know this sounds crazy, but look.” He opened one of the drawers and started tossing tubes of paint on the floor.

Not more than a second later, the tubes lifted themselves off the floor and floated back into the drawer, which then slammed shut. Aspen blinked in shock. “Well there’s something I’ve never seen before. You have a poltergeist that cleans!”