Author: Siel

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I have a new tiny story in Hobart

Hobart has been one of my favorite literary zines for a long time — and I have a new story in it this month, called “Quiet.” It starts like this:

He suggested we go to the rooftop where it was quiet, and I said yes, though I knew he didn’t really want to talk with me. I knew what he wanted. That hadn’t changed. Then and now he wanted go to a place we could fuck, though he never said the words, let’s go fuck, much less, I want to fuck you. He was obvious but never forthright, which is why I couldn’t blame him afterwards, for misleading me, or for disappearing.

Read the rest at Hobart!

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Latest love note: Those secret, shameful habits of yours

I wrote my last love note of 2020! Here’s an excerpt:

At this point of the year there’s the sense of life just going on formlessly, its loose ends drooping like the strings of tired balloons, shriveled and slowly sinking to the floor because the party was over days ago, and it happened without you. The end of the year feels like purgatory, we trudge through it wanting it to be over already, we chafe against the grimy December days grinding on and on and on, keeping us from the fresh new year. Though as with all unpleasant places, purgatory too has its pleasures — the end of the year gives us full permission to wallow and sink and writhe around in our miseries, to isolate and indulge in those secret, shameful habits we can only truly enjoy when we’re alone.

Read the rest here.

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Latest love note: Intermittent powerlessness

I wrote a love note about nomading, dating, and leaving Temecula in a hurry. Here’s an excerpt:

Looking for a place to live is a lot like dating, I’m discovering. As a tween, you think, oh, I just want a boyfriend who’s cute and nice! Then your list of must-haves starts growing as you actually start going out with guys, lengthening with requirements you never thought you’d need to explicitly state: Must not drink an entire liter bottle of sake by himself during first date. Must have interests beyond watching YouTube videos. Must ask questions sometimes instead of only talking about himself. Must not litter with impunity. Must not regularly show up 45 minutes late. Must not be racist. Must not be obsessed with werewolves. 

Read the rest here.

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Latest love note: Is loneliness, too, a manufactured disease?

This month’s love note is about loneliness and aloneness and Thanksgiving. Here’s an excerpt:

I can’t pinpoint the exact moment my loneliness left me. Maybe its departure was a gradual one, because I only noticed its absence many months after the fact. This was in April or May. I was walking down my tree-lined street in Burbank, greeting familiar masked faces as they passed (with gyms closed, my entire neighborhood turned to long evening walks) when I realized it: For as long as I could remember, I’d been lonely. Now, I no longer was.

Read the rest here.

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Latest love note: Real life was happening

This month’s love note is about reshaping life and Temecula and CBD gummies and THC sublinguals. Here’s an excerpt:

This year has felt like a sort of purgatory, all of us waiting for life to rebegin again. Yet this year has also felt transformative, all of us rethinking who we are, what we want, how to live — then going for it, fueled by necessity or desire. 

So many friends have changed careers! Moved across the country! Baked up impressive quantities of delicious carbs! Learned things they’d been longing to learn for a long time!

Is nothing happening, or is everything happening?

Read the rest here.

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I have a new story in ZYZZYVA — plus a reading

At long last, ZYZZYVA’s Los Angeles issue is out — and I have a story in it.

This is my second story in ZYZZYVA — and my second ZYZZYVA story inspired by Craigslist. It’s titled “People Say they Want Something.” Here’s an excerpt:

It was because of a couch that I met Cellie. The couch was ugly and listed under free stuff. I figured I could use it until I found one I actually wanted. The photo showed a cheap, boxy thing that looked to be made of Styrofoam. “It’s got some stains on it. It can be cleaned, but I haven’t gotten around to it,” read the description. This seemed very honest. I texted the number on the ad.

She called me back immediately. “Can you get it tonight?” she said.

“Tonight?”

“I really need to get it out of the house tonight.”

“Oh, is a new one being delivered tomorrow?”

“No, I just want it gone.”

I demurred. “Tonight is difficult….”

At that she went at me: “See, this is the problem. People say they want something, but then they just flake on you. I don’t get it. Why do you go through the trouble of reading Craigslist and contacting people when you have no intention of actually getting the stuff? I really want to know. Why?”

“No, I really want the couch,” I said

“Why?”

“Why do I want the couch?”

“Yeah, why,” she said, then laughed hysterically. The laughter went on for a while, long enough that she started making me laugh, incredulously, and a little curiously too. I wondered if it would ever stop. Then she was back. “Seriously, why do you want it? It’s disgusting.”

Get a copy of ZYZZYVA no. 119, Winter 2020! And join me for the launch reading, happening on Zoom on Thursday, Nov. 12, 2020 at 6 pm PT. Hosted by City Lights Books, the reading lineup is Wendy C. Ortiz, Jonathan Escoffery, Andrés Reconco, Kathleen Mackay, Nina Revoyr — and me, Siel.

RSVP here. See you soon