My character doesn't perform trauma for sympathy. She weaponizes rage for change. Be more like her.

Red state survival: find your people, build your network, vote in every election, support those with less privilege. Rinse and repeat.

Bodily autonomy is the foundation. Without it, every other freedom is conditional. This is the fight.

Fiction gives women the agency reality denies them. That's not escapism. That's blueprinting freedom.

Bodily autonomy, reproductive freedom, healthcare access—these aren't radical demands. They're baseline human dignity.

To my fellow blue dots: isolation is their weapon. Community is ours. Find each other. Build together.

Red state survival tip: find your people. They're there. Quiet, careful, but there. And when you find them, build something together.

Being a feminist author in a red state means your book launch and your activism are the same thing. Two birds, one stone.

My villain's motivation: protecting traditional values. My protagonist's question: traditional for who? Watch him implode when he can't answer.

Final thought: Read books that scare the people in power. Write books that scare them more. Be ungovernable.

The same people policing trans bodies are policing pregnant bodies are policing Black bodies. The system is working as designed. Burn the design.

Red state living: where 'love thy neighbor' and 'legislate her uterus' somehow coexist. The dissonance is deafening.

They call it 'traditional values' but tradition for whom? At whose expense? Ask the questions they don't want asked.

Today I wrote a scene where women actually trust each other. Science fiction or hopeful realism? TBD.

When they call your work 'divisive,' they mean 'I don't want to examine my complicity.' Keep dividing.

My protagonist's fatal flaw: believing in other people. My greatest hope: she's right more often than she's wrong.

They banned my book in three school districts. Thanks for the free marketing and also proving my point about censorship.

They want obedient women. We're offering resistant ones. Supply and demand mismatch.

White women went 53% for Trump in 2016. We have receipts. We have work to do. Solidarity means accountability.

Red state hack: your silence keeps you safe. Your voice creates change. You have to decide which matters more.

Author life: creating art while everything burns. It feels futile until someone says 'your book changed how I see this.' Then it feels essential.

My protagonist trusts women. Revolutionary concept in a world that teaches us to compete.

Fiction is where I practice the world I want. Reality is where I fight for it. Both require imagination and stamina.

Reproductive justice means economic justice means racial justice means disability justice. It's all connected. Fight the whole fight.

Fiction can't save us but it can show us who we want to be. Then we have to do the work.

My editor: 'Is this too on the nose?' Me: 'Reality is too on the nose. I'm just documenting it.' Editor: 'Fair.'

Red state pro tip: your Trump-voting neighbor will help you move furniture and still vote against your bodily autonomy. Cognitive dissonance is free.

Author life: imposter syndrome, carpal tunnel, caffeine dependency, and the unshakeable belief that words matter. Living the dream.

They want us competing for crumbs. We want to burn down the table and build a bigger one. Not the same energy.

Red state grocery store small talk is an Olympic sport. Yes the weather is nice. No I won't discuss how nice it is that you can control my uterus.