Quiet Deafens. (19.3.18)

Standing still after a shower, sensations of water running down your skin.

Listening to the click and pop of an open soda sitting next to you.

Listening to millions of tiny snowflakes hitting the ground around you.

The rush of wind, of cars, of heartbeats.

.

Quiet is loud, sensation is strong,

When you tune in.

They take over all in the end.

When will you tune in?

The Woman Dipped In Ink. (19.2.12)

Red dress. Black dress. White dress.

White dress, black flowers, red petal tips.

She drifts through the world. Rain pelts the glass in fat, running droplets as she watches. Their streams distort light, views through the window. Inside, and out.

Her fingertips trail down the pane. Longing, loneliness in her eyes.

Ink seeps from her. Constant, viscous, pooling. From her fingertips, heels, hair, tear ducts, it seeps and runs from her, pooling in places, sticking in others. Reflecting slick highlights.

As she drifts, the ink runs like tears around her. It fills her footsteps, dissipating in rain and evaporating into black stains in the sun. It’s left dark and unseen on anyone she touches, without her knowing. It bubbles up through the skin at her throat, sliding down her chest through her dress’s weave without leaving trace, but marking the whole world around her.

The rain is a mild, warm background noise in a cold city, accompanying her tapping footfalls as she walks through the alley slow, barely feeling the rain. The edges of petals on her soaked, summery dress the only spots of color in the scene.

Soaked in experiences turned potential, is this

Her beginning or her end?

She walks, a lifetime of untold stories no longer contained, flowing away from her in fine rivulets.

Progress and Goals. (19.3.23)

In August of 2017, I decided to actually do something with this website that had sat dormant for a year and a half. I was going to post something every week. Maybe even try and get some people to read it. At the time, the challenge was to keep that up for a year, to see if anything interesting would happen, to see if I could do it for a whole year.

While there are a few gaps over the time since then, I’ve kept it up pretty well. I had some pretty awesome things happen during this time as well, as I mentioned back in January when I looked back on 2018’s highlights.

But now I have to figure out how to reboot into a new challenge. I’ve kept this place for a year, for more than a year.

So, now what?

It’s getting more difficult to post every week. I’m having trouble dedicating enough time to do very much to promote this website. I have less writing I can fall back that doesn’t require major edits before it’s posted, so my posts are getting generally shorter, and it’s distracting from the writing I need to do be doing on my novel.

I’m proud of the progress I’ve made and the pieces I’ve posted here.

I didn’t want to give this up, so I took time to think about where I want to progress.

So, now what?

Now what is new challenges.

I want to see real, continual progress on a novel length piece for the first time since I was fourteen.

I enjoy the short pieces I’ve been posting. They’re fun and challenging and much less stressful than striving to finish or edit longer stories. They allow me to experiment with different styles, characters, and stories besides the main project.

I hope you enjoy them as much as I do, because they’re here to stay as I give my book higher priority.

I want to see my writing reaching a wider audience. I want to find more opportunities to share my work with people. (This is a fantastic time to share a favorite piece of mine with someone you know, in case you were waiting for a perfect moment,) I want to push myself a little more to be present in writing communities. Though, not at the expense of my novel writing time.

My goals laid out, I’m excited for the next steps! I have pieces coming up that I’m excited about, I’ll have a poem in Seattle Erotic Art Festival’s Anthology in April, and I have new awesome things to look forward to. Thanks for being part of the awesome!

**

Follow me on Twitter! I’m tiny and I know nothing, it’ll be a fun train wreck, I promise. @ZoeBrook7

SEAF 2019! (19.3.21)

I’m excited to announce my poem Truths will be included in Seattle Erotic Art Festival’s 2019 Literary Anthology!

I’m excited to announce my poem Truths will be included in Seattle Erotic Art Festival’s 2019 Literary Anthology!

Woman lies in a field with a yellow typewriter and umbrella, in dark tones. Text reads: Read My Art at Seattle Erotic Art Festival April 26th-68th #SEAF2019
A stylized heart amongst peacock feathers, paisley like designs, and green stylized vines. Text reads: See my art at Seattle Erotic Art Festival April 26th-28th #SEAF2019
See My Art
Seattle Erotic Art Festival April 26-28 2019

I’m honored to share pages with the other talented authors who make up this work, and I look forward to seeing the awesome collection of visual art the festival has chosen.

I hope you’ll consider supporting erotic art in Seattle by purchasing a copy of the anthology, (On Lulu, or Amazon) and by attending the festival itself. I’ll be there if you want to say hello; it’s lovely meeting people who are enthusiastic about erotic arts or sex education.

Find more information about SEAF Here.

Pockets. (19.3.8)

If there are infinite universes, with infinite combinations of physics and laws of nature, then surely there is one universe improved that there are not only proper pockets in women’s clothing, but also pockets in time where rest can happen without existential dread, missed deadlines, or time passed.

Unfortunately traveling to such a marvelous place is impossible as of yet.

Perhaps, by the time our personal rest pockets arrive, some of this world’s injustices will be no longer.

Brought to you by International Women’s Day, exhausted optimism, and accidentally being on time for a moment.

There are many more serious things wrong in the world than missing pockets. There is more time for seriousness tomorrow.

To all who whose energy is spent surviving, I love you.

Niche Nerdery. (19.2.14)

The world is full of cracks and crevices. They shift and shimmer, intersecting and enveloping each other, each with its own evanescence. They build and erode, with their own personalities and evolutions.

Thousands upon thousands of cracks exist. The maze rearranges itself, new beacons unseen for trips not yet undertaken, no matter the scale.

Adventures await, find yours.

Nerd.