One of the hardest things for me to do is write shorts without second-guessing myself. As I begin (and I do, just, begin – there is no plan) the first thoughts I have are, ‘oh good I’m having fun – this is fucking weird‘, followed by, ‘shit this is too weird, I can’t sell this‘, to, ‘oh my god, people are gonna judge me hard, just be normal, Cat. Please.

Only one of these thoughts is actually helpful. Right now I’m writing about eating the god of fucks, and, as you can imagine, I’m trying to censor myself all the time. It’s not even about ‘oh no, I used a bad word that paying magazines won’t like‘ (which is definitely a thing I have thought), but more like, what if this does sell and the people who know me are all ‘jfc you are…very much clearly not well, please don’t hang out with us hahaha.’

It is very hard to balance the people-pleasing parts of me, the parts that just want to be liked and fit seamlessly into the circles, with the part that is clearly a feral hamster.

But also, WHY?

Why do I have to write stuff that will sell? Why do I have to write a story that some editor in America thinks might have the potential to get long-listed for a Hugo? None of that is relevant to me, to the stories I want to tell and like to read, and to my life and happiness as a human.

So anyway, here’s today’s mantra: BE WEIRD. STAY WEIRD. FUCK WEIRD.

Maybe you needed to hear that as much as I did.

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