At This Moment…

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on November 26, 2018 by jezzywolfe

I am currently dealing with the oncoming passing of one of my parents.

Much to my surprise, I have largely been able to keep my composure among family and hospital staff this past week. By myself, though, it’s a different ballgame. Maybe there’s an internal switch that flips automatically to help me remain stoic and rational in the face of this painful madness. I worry that family will mistake it for coldness or lack of compassion.

But I am not a cold person. I do not lack compassion. I can’t even kill a bug accidentally without feeling sorrow. True story.

I would change this situation in a heartbeat, if I could. No matter what has happened in the past, I love my family fiercely. I have done the things I’ve done out of a need to protect my loved ones. Even now, as I keep my back rigid, and my voiced thoughts extremely clinical, it is to protect my dear parent.

As a child, I was very loved. I never doubted that. As an adult, my parents have continued to love me, and show their support of me. Anything I say or do now is because I know they need me to be this strong. For them. So they can move on comfortably. And gently.

But if I thought an emotional tantrum could change the outcome, I would do it. In a heartbeat. Biggest tantrum you ever saw. It would be a most glorious and super effective tantrum. You’d be impressed.

But now, all I really can do is to keep telling them I love them, and hope that is what they hear when they finally choose to go.

We are never ready for these things, are we?

I thought I would be. But I’m not.


Where I’ve Been and Where I’m Headed.

Posted in Uncategorized on November 17, 2018 by jezzywolfe

I was doing pretty good for a while here, with the spontaneous poetry, and all that. But I was also struggling, with a lot of things. Emotionally.

So, by the end of February, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. I got off my ass and went back to the park. I started back to the gym. In mid-March, I started adjusting my lifestyle as far as the way I ate, and adopted a ketogenic eating plan.

I’m 60 pounds lighter now.

But making my health such a huge focus has eaten into time I might’ve otherwise spent writing. I’m finding it challenging to maintain a regular writing schedule, in addition to daily walking, frequent gym visits, cooking and experimenting, and getting red light therapy treatments. Now, with the holidays looming, I am having to cut back on everything to force myself to address issues around the house. Because, despite everything else, I still have a house to run. And that’s eating time, too.

So, what has suffered most, has been my creative time. I have stories to tell. The Beelzebacon saga is not complete yet. Plus, I recently made a decision to embark on a lofty endeavor… but that is even more time consuming than all the other things I’ve done to date. And I’m nervous about it, in particular. I feel rather inept and unprepared.

The future is a jumbled mess of chaos. My spouse is considering a drastic change in employment, and that makes me rather nervous, as well, though I understand why he feels the need to do so. It’s everything, all at once, all in my face, and I work best when I can just focus on one singular goal at a time. I don’t know where to even start, with all this.

So, it made little sense to launch YET ANOTHER blog, with everything that’s been going on. You’re probably all, “Have you lost your bloody mind, Jezzy?”

Yes. Yes, I have.

See, since I kept posting about the progress I’ve made with the Keto, I started getting messages from FB friends, looking for advice and tips. Some were discouraged with their lack of results. Some were interested in the recipes I was making. It’s a pain in the butt to post recipes on a FB post, by the way. Their lack of a legit post editor is a royal pain in the ass.

I joked on a number of occasions that I was going to call myself KetoBitch and start a blog with that persona. Partly to give me a place to properly post recipes and tips and the like withoout the hassle of FB formatting. And partly because it seemed like everytime I posted about some information I was digesting, at least one person would feel the need to argue with me about it.

If I was going to have to be a bitch, I might as well own it.

So, that’s where I’ve been. I launched KetoB!tch a couple weeks ago, and have tried to devote time to it daily. I’ve posted recipes for my Cheese Crack sauce, a Pumpkin Spice Cake, and Mouthgasm…the best chocolate mug cake, that is also sugar free. I’ve tried to post some posts meant to be uplifting and encouraging. And I’ve posted about walking, how it benefits you, and also hiking, which I’ve recently discovered I love.

But it’s hard to gain momentum. The blog is getting steady traffic, yes, but it’s not the traffic I hoped for. I intend to seek affiliate partnerships with a few product lines I’ve grown rather fond of. In that way, I could actually generate revenue with KetoB!tch. From all I’ve read, that’s the way to turn blogging into money.

You know me, though. Easily frustrated. Easily discouraged. With all the encouragement I got to start the blog, the traffic hasn’t reflected the interest it seemed to have whenever I mentioned it on FB. I’m not really sure what to do with it.

I shouldn’t have neglected this space, though. I am behind on keeping my publications page updated. There’s several publications not listed at all. I attended Scares That Care in August, and neglected to make a post con post about it, even though I had a fantastic time meeting some of my longtime friends in person. I read at another Fright Flight reading, and that went smoothly, as well.

I’ve kept you all in the dark, and I’m surprised this blog gets any traffic at all, considering my neglect. I sincerely apologize.

I will have some new announcements soon. I will try to do better.

In the meantime, if you are curious, or so inclined, please check out the new blog? Let me know what you think of it. Even if Keto is not your thing, maybe I can say something that helps you along.

Find me at

I do hope you’ll stop by. I value your support.


Tout espoir brûle avec la fin de l’hiver…

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on March 10, 2018 by jezzywolfe


“Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.”

– Robert Frost



I envisioned it, all of this,
The passages and waylays,
A myriad of misadventures,
Years burgeoning with laughter.
But failed to see the moment,
When the tracks had rusted,
And the train derailed,
Spilling over our landscape.

We could say that nothing changed,
But I know it’s merely easement,
And you know it’s worth avoiding,
The awkward that prevails.
By way of our secondary reaction
To shrug off and move forward
Time will ensure the frayed cord,
Gives way to the big wide open.

And that’s another closed door,
A crossed bridge felled to the rushing,
Another winter frozen through,
As we held our souls in their cages.
We survived the douleurs de croissance,
Only to witness our devastation,
Guised as early ombre of Spring,
Glazing poignant thorns in gold.


JW ©2018



Waving at Myself as I Float By

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on February 26, 2018 by jezzywolfe


If I can tell myself that I am
Just good enough for passing,

Then each sunrise won’t grate
Like a challenge given.

Each afternoon won’t numb like
Vaulting through apathetic miasma.

Each sunset won’t philander like
The longest leg of any journey.

Each midnight won’t deteriorate into
A battle for every breath.


I could sleep with my eyes closed
And my heart open.

And wake with the whisper of crystalline waters
Carrying me towards a shimmer dusted shore.


JW ©2018


shimmer beach


Upon A Vessel Soon Capsized

Posted in General, Uncategorized with tags , , , on February 20, 2018 by jezzywolfe


“…and the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started,
And know the place for the first time.”

~ T.S. Eliot


Afloat without enough words to weave a safety net.

That’s how most discourse feels, as of late. The stagnant attempts to find some respite in light platitudes and commentary. One wrong word is one unraveling knot–spoken hastily–undoing all progress made. The catch is spilled into the ink black waters, confused and flailing, pathetically fierce.

I am failed at fishing. I did not cast my net far enough. It battered the boat helm and eventually jammed the rudder. So now, I can’t steer, much less fish.

But I continue to float.

We all come to the same place, eventually. That purgatory in the calm open. Many dive in and tread water together, but I can only look over the side of my vessel and question how cold the waters feel. My hesitation might be construed as prudence. Or stiff discipline. I’d rather see it as a survival instinct. Hypothermia is a motherfucker. Better safe than soggy.

But the problems with empty boats and frayed netting are the same as lack of courage. And safe now does not guarantee safe later. A rogue wave could capsize the boat. A gang of floating marauders could seize the vessel. The waters could shallow and tear rents in the bow. Or I could finally succumb to the madness of empty and dive overboard. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, nothing lost that wasn’t found in the first place.

It’s fruitless to be so scared. It’s directionless to float without a working sextant. Whatever shore I’m meant to discover won’t come to me. It’s out there, across miles of glass and diamond. That missing block in my sternum that calls me out into the ocean.

Without a map.
Or a compass.
Or my sustenance.
Or my true north.

Afloat in the obsidian deep of Wherenever.


JW ©2018


Midnight Garden Grudgery

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on February 12, 2018 by jezzywolfe

Sheldon Ruins at Night


I want to believe.

But you make it hard, what with your two sided mouth
And your multi-dimensional passages,
And the idea that original sin is somehow all on me and never on you,
Even when your pants are down…
Even when my chest is pressed to the floor.

Somehow, you still manage divinity
As you brandish the reed that tears open flesh,
And cast your recriminations on my shoulders as if I should be so lucky
To look up just long enough to catch a glimpse of hope,
Before you decide I’m not worthy your salvation.

But who the fuck told you I needed your consent
When I see what you do with power and sanctimony
When I hear your truths that ironically manage to reek of sacrilege,
When you command I bow to you,
And I reply where you can shove your scepter.

No, I want to believe…

In divine love and grace, in the blessed,
In a salvation that is blind to pigment or facade,
In an intrinsic spirituality that embraces me
With no regard to my human errors
Or the seeded sin I carry in my involuntary DNA.

I need to believe in a Power that didn’t preconceive
Me as a tempestuous toy with circuitry
Created merely to appease your whims
Nothing more than a silent (but grateful) fucktoy
Who requires periodic breaking.

I want to believe,

In an all-knowing and unseen,
But I cannot believe in anything that creates
Both our souls with one breath
Before handing you the keys to my undoing.
Before giving you the bullets to your gun.

I will not believe in anything that exalts you.

And I pray I break you when I fall.


JW ©2018

Slouching Towards

Posted in General, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on February 5, 2018 by jezzywolfe

“And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”  – W.B. Yeats

It hasn’t been easy.

I’ve sat countless times, looking to create. Stiffled by too much to say all at once, which bottlenecks into blocks I can’t chisel through. I told myself, if nothing else, I’d at least knock out a poem. And I have.

But no one looks for poetry.

I DO have deadlines to make. This year ahead is not completely uneventful. I will be a featured author in the 2018 anthology, Ladies and Gentlemen of Horror. I was requested to read again at this year’s Fright Flight in Portsmouth. It won’t be the year to conveniently slip into oblivion, even though it often feels like I should. I have opportunities to grab.

But I’m waffling in uncertainty. All writers second guess their voices. I fear mine has succumbed to incurable laryngitis. What happens if all I can do is scratch out a poem here or there? The world waits for new stories… but I worry those stories are not the ones I have to tell.

It’s Women in Horror month. A yearly reminder that I’ve contributed little of note thus far. I’ve been proud, and excited, for the opportunities I’ve been given. I don’t think I’ve botched them. But I look at the projects I want to see grow wings and fly, and I’m not sure how to make it happen. As long as they are cocooned safely away, no one can reject them.

Have I mentioned that the most important characteristic of a true writer is astounding bravery? Because this shit is scary.

I haven’t completely given up. I’m not trying to be some incredible force of literary dynamics. I don’ think that’s what I can best offer anyone. That doesn’t mean I want to be dismissed, or brushed aside. It simply means I want to give my readers a somewhat different experience. Whether or not I make them really think… I want to know they’ve been grateful. I want them to be happy they spent that time with me. I cannot refund minutes. Hopefully they won’t wish that I could.

We all stumble. I’m not completely without footing. I just hope to regain it before I completely disappear.

Last year, I neglected to keep my blog updated. The year wound down this way for me…

Last October, I participated in my third Fright Flight reading. I read War Dance, my ferrets-beats-jackalope horror short that appeared in the Western Legends anthology, Unnatural Tales of the Jackalope back in 2012.


Around Halloween last year, my story, ALL WILL TURN TO GRAY appeared in Smart Rhino Publications most recent anthology, Zippered Flesh 3. You might remember that I have stories in the first two, as well. I also appeared in Smart Rhinos Insidious Assassins. (Not all last year, of course, but in the process of neglecting my blog updated, I’m also behind on my publications page.)

The new Zippered Flesh includes incredible contributions from greats such as William F. Nolan,  Graham Masterton, and the late Jack Ketchum, as well as many others. I am honored to be in such amazing company. You can pick up a copy of it HERE. Trust me, it’s worth it, and I’m not saying that just because I’m in there.

Another wonderful surprise was the return of the first publisher to give me a shot. THE WORLD OF MYTH relaunched on Christmas Eve, 2017. Not just with a brand new issue, but the complete archives of all their past issues. This includes everything I’ve contributed as well. I encourage you to check out the ezine at length. If you’d like to read my latest contribution, LOVE ME, LOVE MY ALPACA, you can find the link to it on my contributors page.

So, that’s where I’m at. I still have a rough first draft of a novel in the wings, a growing collection of poetry, and my Beelzebacon novella that need my attention. I so badly want them all to find homes. They’re my children. I love them.

I want you to love them, too.

Until next time,