Category Archives: Newsletter

~~~~~~ Q U E E R S T O R Y ~~~~~~ thirty-five pence issue ten aug ’19 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ {{{ A Brief Letter from the Editor }}} Today was my first proper trip to Islington’s Pride, the LGBTQ+ archive that me and a couple of fellow queer writers are visiting to come up with someContinue reading “queer story 10”

My Dad had a dent in his head. In the 1940s before I was born he had an operation to remove a tumour and part of his skull went with it. It’s amazing he survived. As a child, I would sit on his knee and carefully comb his hair over the dent. By the timeContinue reading “dad – julie”

I hate cleaning my room, but when I feel stressed out and like my to-do list is spiralling out of control cleaning my room is what makes me feel better. There is great satisfaction in seeing your room go from chaotic mess to something resembling order, christened with the sweet lie that you will maintainContinue reading “cleaning in studio ghibli films”

There was no way the counter girl was butch, even strutting to and fro in her Levi’s and poly-blend Colma Tigers Little League uniform shirt. Her crew cut framed her face too prettily, her eyelashes were too long, the shirt too snug. She did not achieve that true androgyny some butches have, where you lookContinue reading “queer story 9”

[EDIT] This letter has been sat in my drafts for a while. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to send it since it’s mostly a series of questions without conclusions, starts and stops and tangles of thoughts I haven’t figured out, so please forgive me, but as it’s the start of LGBTQ+ History month IContinue reading “queer story 8”

In honour of this tweet I thought I’d share some tiny scraps from the notes app on my phone. I can think of no better way of expressing what it means to try to gather the disparate parts of myself (my many tiny narratives if you will) into a coherent whole. And so I presentContinue reading “notes of my(self)”

I’m writing this tinyletter at lunchtime in the thin strip of park of Gordon Square. I am surrounded by students and UCL workers, people sat on blankets and jackets, some like me sat straight onto the grass. We cover nearly every inch of green. Sun-seekers on a hot, clear blue London day. I’m writing thisContinue reading “work/life balance”

My dad has a story he tells sometimes if the situation is right. Usually, this means if he has drunk enough wine and the mix of company is a balance of old family friends and new. The story is worn like a pebble, rough edges smoothed away from years of telling and retelling, so nowContinue reading “charlie auerbeck”

of your aunty you can read a plain text version here Naima is a twenty five year old London-based amateur photographer muddling through her twenties and dipping her toe back into the creative pool she willingly swam in as a child. She hopes to use her creative outlets as a way to connect with herselfContinue reading “of your aunty”

My Granddad died when I was two; I do not remember him much. I am told I would sit on his knee and try to twist his thumb around and that he would let me and pretend it caused him pain. All to make me laugh. My mother says my sense of humour comes fromContinue reading “thumb”