Is this a mysterious newsletter I see before me?

Today, there was a man in my crawl space who arrived at my home unannounced, a tattooed woman is surrounded by blankets and laptops on the couch opposite me, and the neighbor’s chickens are crossing the road to venture into my yard. A blue jay watches all of this from the power lines. At night, cicadas and owls and peeper frogs will bring symphonies to a landscape I once expected to be silent. Life, as of late, has been strangely and wonderfully weird and feral.

A decade ago, I did not see my future self living in semi-rural North Carolina, in a graduate school program, or even getting back into a blog-ish mindset. I assumed I’d be in some big city, already “making it” as a published author, far too busy for the likes of spreading my own words online. But, of course, I was fifteen then, and what the hell do fifteen-year-olds know about the world? 

As a former Tumblr Kid™, blogs and newsletters will always share a piece of my heart. They are a place to be creative, to share one's thoughts and feelings, and to cultivate community with like-minded folks. If there’s anything that I’m learning from being in a low-residency MFA program, it’s that I crave community. Writing is incredibly isolating and independent—but it doesn’t have to be. 

My old high school’s Writer’s Club; my past with the late, great Young Eager Writers Association; and my time in undergrad solidified this idea in me—this necessity to find community. But to be able to find community, you need to put yourself out there and look for it! Or, in this case, try to make it yourself.

Even so, I can’t help but wonder: why does my voice matter? Is writing a blog worth the time? Is a newsletter/blog/thing really going to cultivate community?

I am not someone who likes to be the center of attention (well, not always—maybe sometimes), though I do love to help others grow creatively. Between my life experiences and knowledge in writing, maybe something like “Writing Feral” could help other writers find a sense of ease and comfort in themselves and their own craft. That’s all I want sometimes, especially when I’m faced with writer’s block or feeling unsure of myself. While writing is my life, I still find myself feeling lost in the waves of it—caught in a never-ending cycle of doubting my abilities and only occasionally feeling like a “good enough” writer. 

“Writing Feral” will be a place for me to express myself, to let people know what’s going on in my life, to share writing prompts, to ramble on about whatever book I’m reading, and whatever else comes to mind. But, ultimately, I want to create a community with all of y’all where we can discuss what it means to all of us to write feral. In case you’re wondering what I mean by that, I have a few possible ways one could take it. (However, all rules are fake and interpretations are endless.)

To Be Feral: a wild state of being, particularly post-escape or domestication; often in relation to wild animals, though also to behave unapologetically yourself.

To Write Feral: to break boundaries, to write uninhibited, to become one with the monstrous.

I am fat and trans and queer. I am many things that, to much of the world, are considered less human and undeserving. But that is far from the truth, I (and those like me) are deserving of love, of attention, of living without overwhelming scrutiny from society. I want to reclaim my connection to boogie men under the bed, skeletons in the closet, and ghosts in the mirrors. Who else to teach me about being monstrous than the creatures who understand it best? 

Horror, speculative fiction, and hybrid stories bring readers relatable life lessons and ways to process life that you may not find on the popular shelves. To explore what it means to Write Feral is also to explore these genres and share them with the world. This semester of my graduate studies alone I’m trying to read 13 books relating to weird, horrific, erotic, beauty. More people need to read stories like this, and I’m not just biased because I write in the genre! I honestly believe that these stories are helping me process many events in my personal life and I want to give that opportunity to other readers as well. 

My attempt to become one with the feral does not come lightly. I am in a time of acute grief. I am in a time of transition. I am exploring the world with a new outlook on life and death and the fluidity of being. Exploring what feral means to me and how writing in a feral way could affect my craft is a way of starting to better understand the last few years of my life. 

I am an eternal student, always eager to learn. In order to continue learning, I need to create a network around me of other creatives. In order to make that network, I need to start somewhere. And so, I hope that this blog will be the answer to this conundrum.

Honestly, I also need to not be so stuck up and think that all of this needs to be formal and fancy. I’m a silly goose reading bizarre books and writing wild stories. I need to sit back, relax into the feral vibes, and let myself have fun, too! I need an outlet to get my thoughts out, not worry about it all being perfect, and allow myself that space to be messy and goofy and emotional and intense all at once.

Thank you for reading this first little ramble to “Writing Feral.” I’m excited to see what this opportunity has in store!

Cheers,

Vern <3