Inkognito

I wrote this in response to PT Prompt #311: "Write about how you handle negative situations." CONTENT WARNING: This response contains references to domestic abuse. Yes, this is personal. It's also, quite literally, the least gay thing I've posted on GA. Reader discretion advised, because I had absolutely none to begin with.

🚨 Emergency! 🚨 All anthology stories are missing, presumed devoured. Detective Inkognito Cheeto reporting for duty. I arrived on the scene ready to sink my teeth into some monstrous prose… only to find every link dead, every story vanished. No blood. No traces. I suspect a server-dwelling story-snarfing chupacabra with a taste for suspense and a vendetta against hyperlinks is on the loose. I’ve seen it before. Smells like plot holes and printer ink. Possibly invisible. Possibly illiterate. Either way, every link says “We could not locate the item,” which is exactly what I'd say if I was hiding the evidence after a literary feeding frenzy. Someone grab a flashlight, a priest, and maybe a very large net. We’ve got a creature feature mystery on our hands.

Can't wait to pull “Enemies-to-Lovers-to-Divorcees but They're Both Competing Mall Santas.”

So, if I show up to interview a ghost and get ghosted instead, would that be considered... paranormal neglectivity? Not that I care or anything. They’re dead to me either way.

No, this was about his 20-year addiction to alcohol after losing his husband in the accident. The ending is him finally putting the bottle down and choosing sobriety.

He was with me every night. Warm in my hands. Cool on my lips. His gentle words whispered in my ear. The ritual began the same way each evening, reaching for his comforting presence after another day of pretending everything was fine. He built me up in ways my own thoughts could never build myself. While the mirror reflected a failure, he assured me that success was just around the corner. The apartment grew smaller over the years, but his presence filled every inch. Friends stopp

Guest Prompt #2 by Valkyrie: Write a short story (at least 500 words) in first person without using the pronoun “I”. After a devastating loss, the protagonist finds solace in the intoxicating presence of another.

Absolutely! 😄

Just posted Stupid in Love, my very loose interpretation of PT Prompt #301.

Marcus walked into the bathroom and immediately questioned every life choice that had brought him to this moment. There stood his boyfriend, Tyler, wielding the vacuum cleaner hose while aggressively suctioning his wet hair. “Tyler,” Marcus yelled over the deafening roar, “what in the name of basic evolutionary progress are you doing?” A look of pure happiness radiated from Tyler as he spun around, his hair now resembling a tumbleweed that had been electrocuted mid-spin cycle. “In

This story is my very loose take on PT Prompt #301: Choose a sense and then describe something related to that sense to someone lacking that sense.

Sam wasn't what you'd call a "people person." He once apologized to a vending machine for taking too long to choose between Doritos and Cheetos, then bought both out of guilt. Social grace? Never heard of her. Social grizzly? Now we're talking. So when he spotted the flyer, "Bear Lovers Meeting – All Welcome!" stuck to the campus bulletin board between ads for roommates and kidney sales, Sam felt something he hadn't experienced since discovering David Attenborough had a YouTu

Sam, a biology major, is about to discover a whole new meaning to the simple bear necessities of life.

I love the idea of trying a collab, though I’ll admit the current prompts aren’t quite sparking anything for me at the moment. That said, I did come up with an alternative idea that might be fun, so I figured I’d share in case it sparks anything for someone else. My Clue-Style-Among-Us-Collab-Mystery Idea (Scooby-Doo Edition): Each writer creates a seemingly innocent character involved in a crime investigation (detective, nosy neighbor, podcaster, Uber driver, Bigfoot investigator, etc.). One writer is secretly the perpetrator. They are the only one who knows. Neither the other writers nor the readers have any idea. Who it is gets decided randomly (raffle/randomizer/etc.). The guilty writer has to subtly weave in clues while still making their character look totally helpful, friendly, and not at all like they have bodies in the attic. Why it could be fun: Readers and writers get to play detective. Tons of room for discussion, theorizing, rereads, and dramatic gasps. Works with 3+ writers, with everyone taking turns writing chapters. Challenges writers to be truthful without being obvious. It’s a great exercise in character development and narrative sleight of hand. Bonus rules: No outright lies to the reader. You’re a murderer, not a monster. Characters cannot be named things like “Suspicious Steve,” “Murdery McGee,” or “Definitely Didn’t Do It Dan.” If you write the killer, you're legally required to act surprised in the comments when the reveal happens. Bonus points if you toss in a dramatic “Ruh-roh!” So… wanna play a game?

Oh deer.

Aight, just so we're clear. I’m now 100% expecting a story where questionably drunk penguins charge into battle on vampire-unicorns while flanked by tiny helmet-wearing wiener dogs weaponized with bad attitudes, bad decisions, and a deep-seated, ancestral hatred for mailmen, mailmen-kind, and anyone who has the audacity to pass by their home. And if it doesn’t read like a fever dream I had after licking a hallucinogenic Lisa Frank sticker, slap harder than a penguin in a bar fight, and give me the overwhelming urge to touch my wiener (dog), then I will personally be filing a formal complaint and demanding a full refund on my last two functioning brain cells. You’ve been warned.

And that, dear readers, is how My Little Vampire-Pony was born.

Mason didn't hesitate. He flung the backpack off his shoulders and immediately lowered himself onto the windowsill. Rain lashed his face, making it nearly impossible to see as he gripped the window frame and peered inside. “Wyatt!” Unconscious, Wyatt’s head sagged forward as his limp body dangled from a jagged beam of splintered flooring, his shirt the only thing keeping him from disappearing beneath the flood. The water had already reached his waist and was climbing higher by the

A violent crash split the air like a gunshot. Mason jolted upright on the couch as shattering glass echoed through the dark. Another blast followed. Then another. His head snapped toward Wyatt, but before he could even open his mouth, the wall beside them gave a deep, splintering groan. Seconds later, the living room window exploded. Cold wind tore through, whipping the curtains into a frenzy and hurling debris into the walls like fists. “GET TO THE CLOSET, NOW

Hey y’all, huge thanks! I was going to reply to each of you one by one, but then I remembered blowing up your notifications is probably not cool and possibly a felony in at least three states. So here’s one big thank-you blast instead!

Thank you! And I absolutely love that the lines you always quote are clearly the exact moments I blacked out. Saves me the trouble of remembering what the hell I wrote. 😁

You may or may not have been the only one who knew from the start.

Thanks, ese!

1. What is your general timeframe from the start of a project to its conclusion? Truthfully? I don’t have a consistent timeframe, and I don’t hold myself to one either. Most of my work so far has been short stories between 1k and 4k words. Some of those I’ve written and edited in a single day, while others have taken several days or even weeks. My advice? Don’t compare your timeline to anyone else’s. The speed at which you finish a project has zero correlation with your talent, skill, value, or potential as a writer. It’s not a race. It’s not even a sport. There’s no Writer Olympics to win a gold medal in. It’s just storytelling and stress, bro. 2. Do you lack focus sometimes, even (or especially) when you have the time available to you? Absolutely. You can have the same two hours free every day, but that doesn’t mean you’re the same every day. Maybe you’re sick. Maybe something stressful is on your mind. Or maybe you just wanna say “screw it” and watch cat videos. That’s not laziness. It's being human. Brains aren’t vending machines. You don’t insert time and get genius. Sometimes you insert time and get static, existential dread, or a craving for Cheetos. 3. Do you write everything down first and then section it off into chapters, or do you build it up one chapter at a time? Yes. I usually have a loose idea where the chapters might fall, but I don’t treat it like gospel. If I’m on a roll, I’ll write like I’m rafting down Gravy River on Mashed Potato Mountain and worry about chapters later. Other times, I go chapter by chapter. It depends on the story, my mood, and how many snacks I have within reach. Neither way is better. If one method works for you, awesome. If you switch between both depending on the wind and moon phase, also awesome. P.S. Writers always think they’re right, Just because they write. But other writers know, They're the one who's right. Right? Write. 😉