…Is this thing on?
If you’re reading this, congrats! You’ve found your way to novelost.com (“novelost” is a hodge-podge word I made up when I was twelve; it has no absolute meaning but I’ve had my claws sunken into it for long enough). I’m writing this message to welcome you to my website — whether or not you choose to return is entirely your choice, and I trust that you, my fleeting or forever reader, will make the right decision for yourself.
I feel that it’s only right to introduce myself upfront like this: my name is Madison (they/them/theirs), I am twenty years old, and I am a queer writer, editor, & student, currently digging my heels into the ground of Pittsburgh, PA — though my roots remain in Geneva, NY. I attend the University of Pittsburgh as a nonfiction writing major and gender, sexuality, & women’s studies minor. At one point, I had planned to study philosophy. And literature. And classical languages. Nuh uh.
I’ve been writing and editing for City of Asylum’s Sampsonia Way Magazine (to which I am eternally grateful) for a few months shy of a year now; for the moment, I am a summer poetry co-editor, responsible in part for the publication and social media advertisement of the Poem of the Week series. When I’m not doing that, I’m making coffee in Pittsburgh’s Shadyside neighborhood, reading, or drinking iced tea with my partner and my polydactyl rescue cat, Ziggy Stardust.
I built this site to function as my center of writing operations: I’ll be sharing links to my publications as they come out, but also some short(er) personal writings on what I hope to be a fairly regular basis. As it goes, I’m sure this site will grow — in time — to become something beyond the scope of my current vision. And that’s okay.
Pause for a moment and breathe. I want you to feel comfortable here. I want you to know that you are safe here, and I hope that my writing can help you in some — perhaps small but substantive enough — way. Whatever you’re going through, I hope you can find something here to bring you the slightest touch of comfort. I know it helps to feel heard, so thank you for listening to me.
You’ll be hearing from me again, soon, but feel free to take a look around. Leave your shoes at the door. Have some tea. Make yourself at home. Maybe subscribe to my email list, if you’d like.
I wish you all the best.