A New Tide

or, Kitsch Ocean's Return

I miss being here, so let’s dive right back in with a story about a nice day at the lake.

A friend and I packed up our dogs, picked up lunch, and ventured out. I ate what I deem to be the World’s Best Breakfast Sandwich™ from Angelhearts¹ and went out on a paddle board. Something true about me is that I’m terrified of water. Specifically, being out on open water, unable to see to the bottom. At her deepest, Cayuga Lake is 435 feet deep, though I’ve also heard lore that some spots are immeasurable. She could be bottomless for all I know, a yawning, wet hellmouth. Paired with last night’s New Moon, this seemed the perfect day to release an Anxiety Wolf, which I’ve interchangeably referred to as a burden wolf. What is a burden wolf you ask?

Well. It’s this plastic action figure that I purchased to give as a gift and then ended up hanging onto. But after looking at the wolf for a time, I determined I did not want it in my house. Nor did I feel it was proper to donate. This burden, I knew, was all mine. But I’ve delayed the definition. The anxiety wolf is an action figure that comes with a burden sack, into which the owner is supposed to put their burdens (worries, woes, etc). So I wrote down some burdens and put them in the sack. Then I attached the sack to the wolf. Then I set the wolf free. And all those burdens are now opportunities. Life has to work some way and in this moment that’s the life ops logic I’m living by.

The concept of the burden wolf reminds me of when Mike Young came through town and gave a performance at the Grayhaven Motel. During this event, Mike collected woes from the audience members and placed them in a tin (or some other vessel?) to be burned at a later date. Sometimes I wonder whether Mike ever read those woes, or simply collected and carried them away for us all. The energy in the room was warm and familiar, it felt special to sit among wayfaring humans gathering to share in music and writing, collectively, yet privately, unburdening ourselves of whatever was hanging up our joy, in the middle of our paths forward.

Staring at the lake yesterday, I felt peace and forward momentum, despite the reality that at many points I was paddling against the current, navigating chop sent my way by boats. At a certain point, I hadn’t realized how far out I’d gone. Legs on either side of the board, dangling in the water. I didn’t fear the legendary Old Greeny² coming up to inhale me. When I looked down, I didn’t panic or bolt, didn’t feel a fervent impulse to return to the dock. My gut didn’t do backflips. I did not die. I stared into the water and wondered, What’s down there? I laid myself down, flat on the board³, floated there believing that if I fell off I’d make it back.

✨News✨

I spent most of 2025 in a creative burrow, working on the book I’ve been working on for seven years. Still, there were highlights from when I last wrote:

I read at the Seemingly Mature Reading Series, hosted by Liz Bowen and Tim Carter in Syracuse, New York. I love the backyard approach to hosting a reading. Fun, festive, and personal, complete with potluck contributions and friends new and old. Kristen Felicetti interviewed Liz and Tim, as well as covered this event for Zona Motel. Summer is almost here, say yes to backyard readings.

Bookstore owner and good pal Annie Clymer invited me to share a conversation with her for Curiouser, the newsletter for Chapter House Books. We dished on the subject of “My Favorite Book,” so of course we went all in on The Hearing Trumpet, rematriation, the divine feminine, symbols, and meeting yourself in Hell.⁴

I bought the rights to the first book Terrazzo Editions will publish, The Art of Conjuring by SL Carroll. This is a novella about two women who transform their bodies into museums of found objects. I’ve loved collaborating with SL Carroll on revisions and edits, and some fun surprises to come. I’ve loved learning interior layout, cover design, publicity, marketing, and everything that comes with running a press.

Terrazzo Mag continues to publish at least one new piece of fiction a month. In addition to stories and excerpts from longer works, featured authors participate in a short interview series in which we discuss process, craft, and creative influences.

Submissions of full-length fiction manuscripts to Terrazzo Editions, as well as litmag submissions, remain open on a free, ongoing basis. If you enjoy what you’ve read and the project intrigues you, I hope to read work from you.

Next week, I’m looking forward to writing about Morgan Day’s debut novel The Oldest Bitch Alive. Things are about to get cosmic.

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1. I love that Ithaca has Angelhearts, a vegan diner, and Syracuse, my hometown, has Strong Hearts, where I loved inhaling vegan shakes and pizzas when I still lived there. They’re totally unrelated, but in my mind, they are twin souls reflective of their respective environments.

2. The cryptid rumored to inhabit Cayuga Lake.

3. I am practicing for a future in which I learn to surf.

4. Infinitely cooler than meeting yourself in Heaven.