@angelamcowan
Writer, editor & hedge witch on the West Coast 🇨🇦 Easily distracted by pretty stones and moss. Obsessed with creepy fairy tales. Writes @moon-eyed-fox.bsky.social Rep: Brent Taylor at Triada US www.angelamcowan.com
This is amazing!
Instant follow. I’ve rarely read something so decadent
there's a translation of an old hindu myth I am reading where the word for beauty is the same as the word for salt water, because the more you drank of her, the more you thirsted (with the implication you may go mad and die) and a large language model could never yearn like this
The tenderness here is heartbreaking. What a beautiful piece of art ❤️
You line your windowsills with beeswax candles, each only as large as your littlest finger, and hurry to light them before the sun falls completely. They flicker in the warped glass, and you tell yourself the empty eyes and gaping mouths pressing close outside are just an oddity of reflection.
Movie you've watched more than six times with a GIF. Hard mode: no Star Wars or Trek no Lord of the Rings no Marvel and no Disney animated or Pixar.
Oh this is so easy:
REUNION When Odysseus has returned at last unrecognizable to Ithaca and killed the suitors swarming the throne room, very delicately he signals to Telemachus to depart: as he stood twenty years ago, he stands now before Penelope. On the palace floor, wide bands of sunlight turning from gold to red. He tells her nothing of those years, choosing to speak instead exclusively of small things, as would be the habit of a man and woman long together: once she sees who he is, she will know what he's done. And as he speaks, ah, tenderly he touches her forearm.
Closing this run of Louise Glück poems with a personal favourite
This site needs a break. Post 3 good things, none of which are the cessation of a negative.
1. The smell of beeswax.
2. When a cat does a big stretch & spreads their toe beans and straightens up with a little “mlep” sound.
3. Attic ghosts who gently creak rocking chairs and smell like lemon.
Poems for Lent (Day 21)
• Mary Oliver •
You narrowly avoid putting your hand down in a patch of buttersnaps as you work in your garden, the tiny flowers having sprung up overnight around a blueberry bush, and you build a quick fence to close them in. No wishes for true love here—their sunny petals are serrated, and thirsty.
Is it weird to feel a bit left out because the only author scam email I’ve gotten so far references a book I not only didn’t write, but is in a field (diet cookbooks) in which I have *never* published?
A series of lanterns appears along the lake's edge after sunset, glowing the soft pink of a newly opened tulip. You slip an iron coin into your shoe and follow them to a dock that wasn't there yesterday, and a floating wharf where a fiddler is playing a jig that makes your blood sing.
YOU MUST TOUCH SOMETHING SOFT TO HAVE STRENGTH TO GRIND YOUR ENEMIES' BONES TO DUST.
I don’t have a job for you, but by God do I have empathy for the summer camp costs. Wishing you many fruitful gigs 🤞🤞
Just to be clear I will also never send you an email telling you I'm a fellow author and want to connect and hear about your process.
I will totally send you a link to that science article or cocktail recipe or clothing shop we talked about in the bar however.
Absolutely! I read all three over about two weeks and they have amazing dry humour sprinkled over SUCH creepy and imaginative horrors. I’m usually a chicken when it comes to scary books (I can write eldritch beasts and body horror no problem, but reading it? 😬), but these were perfect.
You meet a dear friend at a grove of cherry blossom trees, the pink and white blooms in full froth, and spend a blissful afternoon walking and lounging in the quiet drifting of their snowfall. You take turns writing lines of verse, building a poem together.
Follow the sunshine endorphins and dream big! There's literally no downside to envisioning wonderful things happening for you 💚
Firefly stories are legendary, but they don‘t weave words for anyone.
They only invite you to their glittering gatherings, cinemas of dancing lights, if you recognize them, dull and sleepy, during the day.
Letting one crawl along my finger and doze on the cuff of my sleeve, I think I understand.
I love this so much
On a warm summer late afternoon, I once sat down and talked to a honey bee, finishing her shift.
"I've seen you, hard at work, day in, day out. Buzzing flower to home and back again. And again. and again. Why work so hard?"
I'll never forget her answer: "Sometimes I get to nap in flowers."
You convince your garden hob to join you in teaching a beginner's class in growing vegetables, and even though a few do gawk at the hob's treebark-skin and root fingers, you're both pleasantly surprised at the insightful questions and earnest efforts from the class.
So, any ancestor in Canada since the beginning of time that's ever lived in Canada & we can have dual citizenship.
Wow. Thanks, Canada, for helping us while also trolling the current administration.
I'm gonna need Scotland to do this, too. UK??? Please!!!
www.cicnews.com/2026/03/proo...
As a mother to two boys obsessed with Calvin & Hobbes, I'm stealing this.
Having just finished the Sworn Soldier trilogy and now partway into the first of the Paladin series, this might actually be the year I just read T Kingfisher books, exclusively.
Good GOD this COVER. 💚
The offerings are slim at the first market of the season—modest handfuls of greens grown under jars, or the last of the winter's glittering frost songs—but you shimmy with glee when you spy the Honey Man setting up his stall. He always saves a few jars of last year's sweetest for these grey months.
I’m hopeful! But I’ll also fully believe it in November
The day dawns sunny and warm, so you gather a bucket of warm water and vinegar and set to scrubbing a winter's worth of grime from the outside windows, but skip the kitchen's, where an orb weaver spider has made her web for months. That night, you see a star woven in the middle of the silk threads.
Coming up on a year of on-sub purgatory with my second person CYOA dark fairytale, I wish, man. I wish.
there's so much bad in the world but there's also people who lift up and carry an elderly bat around every day so he can pretend he's flying again, and that's the part of the world I think is worth fighting for