real life jo march

𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 ; where the curtain lifts behind @nixscriptum: author notes, musings, and the visuals that stitch poetry to its moods, made for sharing process, fandom thoughts, inspiration, and the voices of others I love to read.

I grew up scribbling make-believe into the edges of my notebooks, spinning imaginary worlds and love stories long before I knew how much I’d need them. Now I own a small-town bookstore, surrounded by the great love of my life: words. In the rare moments I’m not writing or working on my business: I am sipping (too much) coffee, playing cozy video games late into the night, rescuing and adopting out cats, (don’t ask me how many I’ve kept), or watching comfort movies I’ve seen a hundred times just to feel their familiar warmth. At the moment, I’m working on my first poetry book, a collection built from soft aches and stolen moments. I also write fiction novels (when I’m not too busy writing fanfic that absolutely no one asked for and yet somehow consumes my entire heart). I love writing about the magic tucked into ordinary days, and I believe more than anything in romanticizing life: morning light on hardwood floors, novels that break your heart a little, and a well-placed em dash. It’s all storytelling, really, and I’m endlessly in love with every version of it. Thanks for stepping into my little world. I hope something here makes you feel seen.

"aren't you tired of writing hurt/comfort?" I'm sorry, are you tired of taking a hot shower when you get cold? are you tired of sleeping when you're exhausted? no. the soul requires someone to carefully tend to an injured hero's wounds while whispering 'you idiot, you could have died' and I will be partaking until the sun burns out.