Natalia Antonova

Good question alert: Can you be a “serious writer” while also just being yourself?

The daughter of a friend is taking a summer journalism course, and one of her assignments was to interview “a journalist with international experience” about their “career choices and future goals.” One of the questions she just sent me was so excellent that I am reprinting it, alongside my answer, below (with permission): Q: YourContinue reading “Good question alert: Can you be a “serious writer” while also just being yourself?”

Tornado of Shrieking Demon Heads (The Calm the Fuck Down Song)

Calm the fuck down, bitch Calm the fuck down Get it together or get out of town Oh you crave a crisis Just to feel important You’re jerking off again To a tornado Of shrieking demon heads And other fucked-up shit Bitch, calm the fuck down Jump in a lake Sink to the bottom AndContinue reading “Tornado of Shrieking Demon Heads (The Calm the Fuck Down Song)”

From Pavel Sheremet to Trumputin: my summer 2016 links for your reading pleasure

I don’t usually archive the links to the work I do elsewhere, but it’s been a long summer with few updates, and I thought you guys might like to take a look at a few of these anyway: An important online flashmob on sexual violence recently began in Ukraine and quickly spread to Russia and Belarus.Continue reading “From Pavel Sheremet to Trumputin: my summer 2016 links for your reading pleasure”

A note of thanks

I just wanted to thank all of you again for subscribing, liking and donating. You are the reason this blog continues to exist. It started out as more of an emotional outlet than anything else, but in recent years, it has become something different. It is now a repository of work that I hold dear – andContinue reading “A note of thanks”

My love could have been a Thomas

My love could have been a Thomas From Trinity or from St. John’s We could have had our choicest fights By the fire at the Anglesea Arms My love could have been a cliff at Exmouth Or grimalkin’s stone third eye My love could have lain like fog On the sea at Lady Chapel IsleContinue reading “My love could have been a Thomas”