Welcome to The Bluebird Paradox, a gritty MicroZine written by me, Chris Sadhill, that explores the coexistence of light and darkness, focusing on social issues and the human experiences we often overlook, presented through various short stories, poetry, and other creative arts.The Bluebird pays homage to Charles Bukowski’s poem Bluebird, which delves into themes of vulnerability, repression, and the struggle to express oneself authentically.Often, the Bluebird symbolizes hope, love, positivity, and renewal; however, throughout my life, I’ve observed the presence of darkness where there is light, leading me to believe in a paradoxical relationship between the two.The Bluebird Paradox embraces the inherent contradictions and complexities of our existence and seeks to reveal deeper truths about society, emotions, and the human experience.As always, thank you for being here. Please enjoy the read.If you’re like me or the other zillion Homo sapiens racing through modern-day life, dragging baggage like dead weight while trying to better ourselves, I assume you too made some kind of plan for self-improvement this year—whether big or small—aiming to advance your mind, body, relationships, or even your career. You made resolutions, promises, and rules, vowing this year would be your bitch! For those of you in a better place, maybe you're simply refining yourself, making minor adjustments to an already great system. Or perhaps you did nothing because you're just that goddamn perfect. And if that's the case, well, this issue’s not for you.But regardless of what you’re working on—or not—one of three things is happening:* You haven’t started yet.* You’ve started, but you’re beginning to doubt the process or whether you’ll see it through.* You’ve started and are doing great.All three scenarios can be spun into a pro or a con, depending on who’s presenting the argument. One could say that not starting at all is a perfect opportunity, to begin with a clean slate, while another may suggest that that person is doomed from the get-go if they couldn't even start in the first place. One could say that if someone is feeling the pressure this early it’s a telltale sign they’re destined to fail. Others might argue that that person is standing at a turning point, a major milestone, and if they can just push through they’ll become unstoppable. As for number three, well, who really cares, they're still doing great, right? But one could speculate they’ll eventually become a number two, bogged down with uncertainty and pressure until they break. All of these opinions come from two sources—outsiders, weighing in on someone else’s likelihood of success, like piranhas. Like leeches, sucking the life out of its host. And the other is you! Unfortunately, you’re the victim of both. One month into 2025, and it might feel like we’re inching closer to failure. Closer to succumbing to the pressures placed on us by society, our parents, our best friends, our jobs, and—of course—ourselves. Closer to taking the easy road. Like the one you chose last year, or the year before, or maybe the several before that. It itches at you. It yowls in the night like an alley cat in heat, forcing you to stare blankly at the ceiling until the red glare washes over you like a haze. And before you know it one morning—poof—you wake up, and all your stress has disappeared, because you’re back in your comfort zone!Ah yes... the comfort zone. The safety net. The backdoor. The thick, cozy blanket you hide your shame under, only to forget about it entirely...until next year, of course. It’s like we’re all waiting for the inevitable, stuck in an endless loop. Except this inevitable isn’t fate—it’s something we created. Our own Frankenstein who is very much alive. And it hunts us endlessly until we succumb to the illness or worse, the flames. We like knowing we tried, but deep down, we secretly search for the first chance to escape the pressure, to run from the bear. After all, we are animals, and animals prefer the path of least resistance. You might deny it, but somewhere inside, part of you hopes you receive a friendly slap on the ass—an encouraging “that’s the spirit, at least you tried, you’ll get it next time, kid”—a tag-out that absolves you for the rest of the year. We grovel to the first person we can find, spilling our elaborate justifications, and pleading for validation, begging for someone to relieve us of the guilt poisoning our hearts. But the truth is no one cares about your excuses because they’re all too busy making their own.It’s an elephant in the room—a countdown to a constant we know all too well: failure. It’s the reason why many of us don’t even start. Society is much too comfortable with failure. Many are content with mediocre success, and some with no success at all, especially if they get a chance to try on the costume for a few weeks. But did you really try? Did you push through those first few barriers to climb to the next level? Did you even want change or do you like the idea of it, but hate the work? Life can feel like an unprovoked Bukkake—a relentless torrent of influences coming at you from all angles, dragging you down until you’re gasping for air. And that’s exactly where they want you. The worst part is you let them, you asked for it, and you signed the release forms. An infant can drown in as little as an inch of water. Similarly, each time you try to reinvent yourself you’re in a vulnerable, almost infantile state. It’s easy to drown in just a few weeks of bad habits and a lack of discipline—a lack of focus on your goals, your motivations, and your success. This is your year—you promised, damnit. I know I did. It’s easy to let go of something you never had a firm grip on in the first place. It’s easy to just give up, to give in, to believe what they’re all saying, or worse, to believe what you’ve been telling yourself. Hell, it’s easier to just give up entirely—to die. But deep down, that’s not what we want. Deep down, you want that thing and everything it brings with it. You want happiness, success, respect, love, and acceptance. You want to be seen, heard, remembered. You want to live. But where is your will?At the end of the day, we all have demons whispering in our ears, pleading for us to return home—to the flames. After all, it’s warm. Cozy. It’s familiar. It’s home.But this is the time to stop listening. This is the time to make yourself the priority. To say NO to the opposition. Only you can do it, and fuck everyone else. Fuck the shitty side of you weighing you down.And that my sadbastards, brings us to the word of the month: Resilience. Right now is when you start feeling the burn—the realization that you’re in it for the long haul, and the results are far out of sight. This is the make-or-break moment, and frankly, the many of us who have stood at this intersection before have broken more times than we can count. Hell, I’m on the doorstep of forty, and I still haven’t shed the pounds, kicked the bad habits and behaviors, written my first book, or checked off countless other goals.Fuck the haters, the naysayers, the jealous ones clawing for a piece of your soul because they’ve lost their own. It’s time to kick them off. To face them head-on. To fight through them without rules—bite, gouge, go for the balls, rip them off, and toss them to the hounds. This is the time to cut the dead weight.I won’t tell you how to fight your demons, but I will tell you this: it’s the only way to get where you’re going. You have to get creative. Be relentless. Be Resilient! There’s no perfect path, but the most important thing is to remember why you’re doing this. Remember why you want it.You must prepare—set up reminders, alarms, phone notifications, support people, or even Post-it notes if you have to. Surround yourself with positivity—affirmations to counter the enormous waves of negativity that’ll come your way.You must plan—think it through first. Treat your failures as lessons, create redundancies and backup plans, and use yourself against yourself. Learn it, recite it, and know it inside and out.You must change—if you’re not changing, you’re choosing, and if you’re choosing, you’re losing. Work on your habits, even if it’s just a 1% improvement each day. Accept that real change is slow. Understand that you might not see results right away, but know that change is happening—internally, mentally, or even in how others perceive you. Not all change is visible.You must follow through—stick with the plan, no matter what, and adjust your mindset to endure the suffering, because you will suffer. Knowing that is key. But remember—you’re already suffering now. So you might as well suffer while doing something new and good for yourself.You must love yourself—get to know yourself better. Take time to write poetry or journal. Learn to be okay with who you are and love yourself wholly.This is the time. This is the year. This is the moment. You promised. You said you’d do it, and now Papa Sadhill demands that you finish the job.Plus, I’m fucking trying too, so at least you’re not alone. Now, let’s kick this year in the nuts! This month’s theme is inspired by a piece I wrote in 2020 titled There’s No Need To Go Any Further. Originally written for a short film project with a new film group I had joined near West Chester, PA, it was designed to feel like a spoken-word empowerment piece and served as the script. But then COVID happened, our meetings became less frequent, and ultimately, they stopped.And, we never shot the film. I hadn’t read it in a while, but after going through my archives and stumbling upon it, I realized it would be a perfect piece to kick off the year—after some revision, of course. The new title, Reclaimed, feels much more fitting, and the words have been refined and refocused to strengthen the piece.My goal for this poem was to highlight the cruelty of society, the harsh judgment the world places on us, and the overwhelming pressure people endure. I wanted this poem to speak for those who can’t. To shine a light on them or inspire them to speak up, take control of their lives, and reclaim their existence.Please enjoy.Reclaimed I am not what you label me to be, though you feel compelled to tell me what you think— that I’m a scumbag, a lost soul, useless to society. But your words don’t define me. I’ve already heard them— from my family, from myself, from strangers on the street. At the end of the day, only I determine how my name will read. --- It’s all too easy to say, “Just leave,” but have you ever felt love’s iron fist strike you on your cheek? Have you put in the time to heal your wounds, to stay loyal to the one you vowed you’d never leave? It’s harder than you think, especially when you’re clinging to the hope that things will change. It’s harder than you think. “Why won’t she just leave? She’s gutless. She wants it… She’s obviously weak.” But those words won't define me, because I carry more strength behind my swollen eye than you produce in fifty-two weeks. And soon, I will break free. --- My armor’s not here by choice—contrary to belief. It’s not a product of laziness, lack of drive, or absence of accountability. You chisel my exterior with your daggers and blades, your words seek to carve “perfection." My armor exists, in part, as a response to your misguided deeds— a reflexive shield against the poison you release. My armor protects me. Your words don’t define me. I am more than skin deep. My body's molded with perseverance, shaped by the hope that one day I will be happy. And I am happy— I am not your freak. --- Look at you, looking at me. It seems you’re trying too hard to steer my ship, when, in fact, it’s you who’s lost at sea. I am not a label, a bruise, or what I eat. I’m not what society deems proper, but I AM UNIQUE. So, you worry about you, and I’ll define me. © 2022 Chris SadhillSadhill’s Music Minute “Truth” by Alex Ebert feels like the perfect song to bring in the new year, dragging with it its shadows. The song is an anthem for battling your demons and a reminder of the daily struggle—not always winning, but sometimes caving in.It asks the piercing question: Are you ready to confront your truth?The repetition of "Truth" is haunting, serving as a mantra that challenges listeners to face themselves unvarnished and recognize that the only path to true freedom lies in an honest reckoning with one's flaws, desires, and potential. It’s bold. It’s authentic.Ultimately, the song delivers a minimalist but poignant truth: No amount of external validation or excuses will carry us forward. The power lies within us—raw, unpolished, and waiting to be unleashed. Anything less is a betrayal of who we’re meant to be."Truth" was featured in the film The Covenant by Guy Ritchie in 2023.Sadhill NewsAustralian Writers Centre (AWC):On the first weekend of each month, AWC hosts an international writing challenge called Furious Fiction. Participants are given unique challenge criteria that must be incorporated into an original story of 500 words or less, which must be submitted within 55 hours—by Sunday at 8 a.m. EST.Last month, I submitted my social satire piece, The Phallic Samurai and His Last Magic Sword—a reworking of a poem I wrote in 2023 with the same title. I thought it was far-fetched that the story would make any list, but to my surprise, the results came back, and it was longlisted.If you’re unfamiliar with the term longlisted, it means my story caught the judges’ attention in the first round. AWC states that they place the top 10-15% of entries on this list, which means my story stood out from nearly 90% of submissions and was considered for the top prize or spot among potentially hundreds of entries.A story about a homeless man wielding a dildo as a weapon on Christmas Eve, longlisted—hell yes to that—I’ll take it!If you’d like to read it for yourself, it’s available on the Stories page of my website (link above).Writers Playground:As I write this, I’m sitting just days away from the start of the tenth Writers Playground competition. My whiteboard is prepped, I have a general sense of what might go down, and I’m feeling a little more confident in my abilities than I did on that lonely day in autumn 2023, faced with my first Writing Battle—yet I still don’t fully know what to expect, and I’m still nervous.By the time you read this, I’ll have already written and submitted my piece. I have no idea what the five characters, five settings, or the object will be. If it’s anything like Writing Battle or other contests, I expect a range of challenges and a few unexpected curveballs, but I’m committed to writing what I want first, without barriers.My goal is to build a portfolio I’m proud of and create stories that inspire my next novel.So, wish me luck and I’ll keep you updated in the next issue. PublicationsExpect to see more from me this year in the coming months. I’ve submitted poetry and short fiction to various Lit Mags and Journals and have not heard back yet. I continue to be hopeful for Apex Magazine’s response to my submission, The Roach and the Butterfly. Right now there are 897 writers in front of me. Upcoming Events & Contests:2025 Winter Flash Fiction Writing Battle: Feb 6th- Feb 9th2025 2025 Autumn Fear Flash Fiction Writing Battle: Oct 5th- Oct 12th2025 Autumn Writing Battle: Oct 26th- Nov 2ndNEW Book Development: She Left Him In…[Insert City Here]Well, all the votes are in!Actually, only a few came in...I'll chalk the lack of participation up to New Year’s fatigue or something...yes, that’s what we’ll call it—New Year’s fatigue. Or maybe it’s just bad timing on my part.Regardless, to those who took a moment to share your thoughts—you're badasses, and I thank you. To those who didn’t—drink coffee damnit. Now, onto the results. There was no runaway winner, so I was left choosing between two great ideas I’m stoked to write: a dystopian series or a noir murder-romance series. As much as each of your votes matters to me, my wife’s opinion matters more. And since she’s always my first reader, I allowed her vote to count as two. Sorry, folks, but she broke the tie. So, without further ado—without proper planning, foresight, consideration, or even research—let’s dive into the deep end of 2025 with...a noire murder-romance series.Here’s a loose direction for the series: it will feature a collection of non-linear, stand-alone stories, each following a main character—whether a detective, a femme fatale, or both, or hell, I may even switch it up. I’ll explore the smoky allure of 1940s speakeasies, investigate the tragic, gorgeous remains of dead prostitutes in Chicago, wait alongside angry wives lurking in the dark, and wrestle with sexy seductresses hired to take out the trash—for good.I’ve already developed a handful of these stories and would love to expand them into a series of dark, smoky murder-romance novels. There’s no official title yet, but my first consideration will be: She Left Him in...[Chicago, L.A., Detroit, San Francisco, etc.] which mirrors the titling of a few of my poems, so I’ll start there.Each month, I’ll be updating my progress, sharing parts of my process when possible, and using this space to stay accountable—both to you and, more importantly, to myself. And hey, a few words of encouragement in the comments now and then probably wouldn’t hurt!If you’re interested in joining my ongoing Beta Reader team, drop a comment, find me on social media everywhere @ChrisSadhill, or email me at [email protected], and I’ll add you to the list.Now, together let’s write this fucking book!Thank you for your support! …and please leave a comment. I love hearing from you. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrissadhill.substack.com

Welcome to The Bluebird Paradox, a gritty MicroZine written by me, Chris Sadhill, that explores the coexistence of light and darkness, focusing on social issues and the human experiences we often overlook, presented through various short stories, poetry, and other creative arts.The Bluebird pays homage to Charles Bukowski’s poem Bluebird, which delves into themes of vulnerability, repression, and the struggle to express oneself authentically.Often, the Bluebird symbolizes hope, love, positivity, and renewal; however, throughout my life, I’ve observed the presence of darkness where there is light, leading me to believe in a paradoxical relationship between the two.The Bluebird Paradox embraces the inherent contradictions and complexities of our existence and seeks to reveal deeper truths about society, emotions, and the human experience.As always, thank you for being here. Please enjoy the read.We can’t control everything, though our egos would argue otherwise. Sure, you can pick which color socks to slide on today, choose to leave early to avoid getting stuck behind that goddamned school bus again, or skirt the edge of insanity by adding two shots of espresso to your Mocha Grande Frappuccino. But constantly trying to predict a hundred-mile-wide asteroid you never saw coming in the first place—that’s impossible. Dragging along years of bitterness, anger, and worry—a huge waste of time and energy.So why do it? Why dread the things you can’t control? Why carry a mountain of worry?Life is a series of lucky chances, random encounters, and risks we try to mitigate daily. We’re constantly dodging self-imposed catastrophes while holding it together just enough to avoid a meltdown. Each of us is on the verge of our own mini-Chernobyl. And though we try, we can’t deal with it all—we can barely manage actual problems, let alone ones that don’t matter. Over time, this distress builds layer by layer, hardening into rock, becoming dead weight—a burden we carry everywhere.There are things we’re simply incapable of knowing, which, in the universe’s grand scheme, is almost everything. No one knows what the hell is happening. Yet, ask anyone, and they’ll claim to have the answers. Ironically, even I’m sharing one below—but don’t worry, it’s the right one, trust me.The reality is, that few of us have even begun to notice or understand what sits in front of us, at this very moment. And none of us has figured out the rest—and that’s okay. That’s how it should be. The human experience is meant to be simple. All the other bullshit is just noise brought on by modernism, religion, or some other human construct.When people take on too much, they turn bitter and selfish, lacking respect and empathy for one another. They become more like machines—cogs in the larger machine—and forget what it means to be human. As a culture, we’re constantly on edge—a pressure cooker left on high, forgotten. Nowadays, it feels like the world could pop off at any moment. It’s only a matter of time before it explodes.But there is a solution—something that’s been in front of us the whole time: simply letting shit go, focusing on the now, and living in the fucking moment. That’s it. Strip everything else away, the past, the future, the worry, and what’s left is the moment. Don’t care about the rest.Don’t you think it’s time to let the insignificant things die instead of clinging to them? Whatever happened before doesn’t matter. Whatever’s going to happen doesn’t matter either—you’ll never see it coming nor can you control it until it’s right in front of you. So why worry? Remove the stress and bitterness, and enjoy what you have now.It’s December. The year behind you doesn’t dictate how the next one will go—if you choose it. Take this opportunity to release the dead weight: the resentments, the jealousy, the grudges, the hate—the bullshit.At the end of the day, you are the most important thing to think about. Try that for once—make you a resolution.This month’s theme is inspired by a poem I wrote in 2023 titled Dinosaur Chickens. I believe I wrote it in response to a writing prompt: “Changing of the Seasons.”With this poem, I wanted to accomplish a few things—the juxtaposition of letting go of small things using the extinction of the dinosaurs as the catalyst. I also aimed to explore the positive aspects of embracing constant change and the opportunities that arise from those choices. Additionally, there’s a hint of relationships and social commentary woven throughout.I hope reading this inspires your year ahead to feel less cluttered and burdened by unnecessary worry. I hope it encourages you to grow mentally and physically stronger. There’s also some dark humor in this one so I hope it makes you smile. Please enjoy!Dinosaur Chickens Seasons change, much like how eyes can’t stay open forever— it’s science really, life happening between the blinks, like the dinosaurs. One day they’re schlepping across the same land where you now stand curbside, comfortably sipping that Frappuccino and worrying about what some nameless bitch said online three days ago. And one day, they’re gone. Much like that junkpile melting beneath a ghetto streetlight, where trash is someone’s treasure, it’s between the flickers of that short-circuited amber glow where you too will disappear overnight. Seasons change, gray skies brighten to blue, months turn to years, unprocessed rage boils over, and love floats away with the clouds to far-away places, only to become a storm in someone elses sky. And to them, you bid: Godspeed, or farewell. But eventually, fresh moisture collects above you, as new seasons approach, and once again you’re living in the clouds, tracing your fingers across their impossible shapes, and falling in love all over again, only to loathe again. Seasons change. Lizards the size of buses devolved to the height of chickens simply to lay our eggs. And much like them, mankind will regress too. In fact, we’ll likely drive ourselves to extinction, using our own world-ending “asteroids.” And perhaps, just like the dinosaurs, our final worth will be reduced to the next intelligible species farming breakfast out of our asses. At least then, we’d be worth something, even if it’s just scrambled nutrients. Don’t fret, though. Knowing all of this shouldn’t discourage you. Instead, it should empower you to prioritize living your life to the fullest every day, never giving a fuck about a million years from now because hey, seasons change. So, to you, I bid: Godspeed, and farewell. ©2023 Chris SadhillSadhill’s Music Minute“Fall” by Lisa Hannigan reminds us to always fight to stay human—to be an individual, to keep our hair untamed, to let go of our inhibitions, to rebel, and to be wild at all costs, despite progress being a constant crawl.The song begins with a cozy guitar loop, setting the tone for the entire piece. There’s a beautiful nonchalance about the rebelliousness Lisa encourages, as if defiance can exist in harmony with serenity.Lisa’s voice offers a soothing whisper, an ethereal calmness that hangs in the air, even as the lyrics evoke wildness.For me, the song’s key takeaway is the simplicity of stripping everything back to what truly matters—the resilience of the human spirit, continuing regardless of the changing seasons. “Fall” perfectly captures this month’s theme and the mission of The Bluebird Paradox: to let go, to live raw and in the moment, to embrace life unpolished and free."Fall" was featured in S2E6 of the series "The End of the Fucking World" in 2017, and S5E15 of the Television series "The Blacklist” in 2013.Sadhill NewsWriting BattleMy story, The Roach and the Butterfly was awarded a Sensational 64 Silver Trophy winning 7 out of 10 duels and ranked in the Top 64 out of 295 writers or the top 22% of participants in the Espionage genre. It earned a spot in the Top 256 among 1460 total submitted stories or the Top 18% in the entire contest across all four genres. I received 47 reads and comments during the debriefs. It also was in 2nd place for my genre's most-read and commented story.It's always exciting to have such a dedicated following and receive great feedback during debriefs. Though I asked for the bad and the ugly too, I guess it's a good sign my writing is improving when there's little to nothing to nitpick. Having nearly everyone who reads my piece enjoy it, find my world heartbreaking, and connect with Artie and Jules deeply is amazing. I'm also thrilled that so many readers have received everything I intended in this story so well.A quick note on the judging for this piece—I’ll try not to sound like too much of a sore loser. That said, this is the first time I’ve felt I had inferior judges in the Spartan rounds. In my opinion, after reading the stories I went up against, there’s a clear difference in nearly all aspects of quality and storytelling—I should’ve received a Sweet 16 trophy. I won't speculate as to why I think this happened out of respect for the competition, and Max, the creator. Regardless of this minor ego setback, I had a good time, but I will admit I’m quite bitter about this early loss. Especially on this piece, Especially to those stories. Especially since this is my best entry yet!Moving forward: The next battle is the 2025 Winter Writing Battle. I'm contemplating my 2025 strategy and still have not paid for anything. I may move to the pro-judged rounds to avoid my above concern for the peer-judged contest!Twisted TournamentThe results are in, and I did pretty damn well overall—I love all three of my stories and am quite proud of them.My 500-word story, Split Rock, was my lowest performer but still ranked in the top 40%. It also earned some trophies: one Most Tension, one Best Opening Line, and one Best Last Line. For anyone who knows me, that's exactly what I aim for in my writing. Despite its lower ranking, this feels like a win to me.I understand I can't please everyone, but if what I set out to accomplish in a story is recognized, then I'm perfectly fine with the results. I loved the tension and turmoil I put my character through and had so much fun writing this piece, especially as it was another attempt at channeling Poe. For 500 words, I think I nailed it.My 250-word story, Espresso, On the Rocks, killed it, coming in 7th place, and boy did it earn some trophies: one Best Prose, one Best Last Line, three Best Title, two Most Heartfelt, and two Best Opening Line.This story is being added to a Noire collection I've been developing for a couple of years. That same collection also includes my best story from the last Twisted Tourney, Jane—a fifteenth-place tie. I'm beginning to think I should entertain the idea of being a Noire Romance writer now.My 100-word story, They Waited..., performed pretty decent considering I stretched the rules a tad and experimented with form and structure. (Though I argue the abuse of extremely long titles is at least the same if not worse). This story also earned two trophies: one Best Prose, and one Most Tension. I will say by the time I got to writing this story I was burnt out, and the prompts I got were uninspiring, so I wrote it fairly quickly!and finally… Drum roll please…My overall ranking for all three rounds:15th PlacePublicationsI’ve submitted poetry and short fiction to various Lit Mags and Journals and have not heard back yet.Upcoming Events & Contests:2025 Writers Playground: Jan 9th- 19th (I’ve officially signed up!)2025 Winter Flash Fiction Writing Battle: Feb 6th- Feb 9th20252025 Spring Micro Fiction Writing Battle: May 2nd- May 4th2025 Autumn Fear Flash Fiction Writing Battle: Oct 5th- Oct 12thNEW Book DevelopmentOver the past two years, I’ve developed some great short stories, also some shit ones, most of them written for competitions, and at the end of each contest, I always promise myself I’m going to develop that story into a novel someday.Yet, someday never comes…Additionally, many of my readers have stressed interest in my development of a novel from more than a few of these stories.I’ve been lazy, overwhelmed at times, and even used the excuses that I’m too busy, it’s not the right time, or some other bullshit I talk myself into believing.Well, now it’s fucking time! I’m finally cutting out a few contests to make room for writing my first self-published novella or novel, but I need your help.Please read each story summary and answer the poll below to help me decide what my 2025 novel will be. By helping, you may just receive a special gift when it’s published. Wink Wink!Here are a few brief concepts or summaries of each story (by no means are these complete):Dystopian Series: Inspired by and set in the same Orwellian/Atwoodian world as The Roach and The Butterfly and A Pill to Swallow, this series will serve as my pinnacle of social commentary on a broken world, a corrupt system, and the flawed lifestyles of a near-future America. I envision this as a series, with each story following a different set of characters as they navigate various facets of this fractured world. Tentative Title: Unknown.Drama Series: Inspired by real events and set in a world similar to Ashtray, this near-memoir series follows a boy growing up in a trailer park with his alcoholic mother, a useless stepfather, and siblings. Surrounded by poverty, abuse, and abandonment—along with countless opportunities to get into trouble, get hurt, or even be killed—he faces overwhelming challenges. Yet, along the way, there are people who might help guide him toward the light. Tentative Title: Ashtray.Noir Murder-Romance Series: Over the past two years, I’ve taken every opportunity to slip beneath the smoky veil of a 1940s speakeasy, investigate the gorgeous remains of dead prostitutes, hide with angry wives lurking in the dark, and nearly succumb to seductresses hired to take out the trash. I’ve developed a handful of these stories and would love to expand them into a series of dark, smoky murder-romance novels. No tentative title yet, but you can be assured it will be good!Suspense Thriller #1: I’m not a fan of sharing my secret ideas, but at some point, I’ve got to trust someone, right? Might as well be you, fine folks. One story that has stuck with me for years I’ve tentatively titled The Early Bird. If you’re like me and love rummaging through other people’s junk on Saturday mornings, hunting for treasures to stash in the corners of your home, then you might just love the idea of a Yard Sale thriller. But in this story, it’s the uninvited early birds who show up first. You can expect a rope, a basement, a chilling backstory, and a twist so twisty that even the wife didn’t see it coming, and she suspected adultery the whole time.Suspense Thriller #2: How far would you go for the one you love? For Daniel, the answer is anything. After 30 years of marriage and a lifetime built together with his wife, Janice, he refuses to let anything stand in the way of her survival. When their insurance stops covering the ongoing treatments for her blood transfusions, Daniel is forced to combine his years of experience as a maple syrup farmer with the darkest corners of the internet. His obsession with keeping Janice alive soon drives him to desperate—and chilling—measures somewhere in the Green Mountains of Vermont. Tentative Title: Tapped.So what would you read? What would you buy? What sounds the most exciting to you having read some of my work?What should be my debut Novella or Novel?You can still vote NOW on my original post of Issue 7 here!Accountability Alert!!!For now, this section of the Microzine will replace the Writing Challenge, as it wasn’t receiving the level of interest I felt it deserved.Each month, I’ll update you on my progress, share parts of my process when possible, and use this space to stay accountable—both to you and, more importantly, to myself. And hey, a few words of encouragement in the comments now and then probably wouldn’t hurt!If you’re interested in joining my Beta Readers team, drop a comment, find me on social media everywhere @ChrisSadhill, or email me at [email protected], and I’ll add you to the list.Now, let’s write this fucking book!Thank you for your support!…and please leave a comment. I love hearing from you. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrissadhill.substack.com

Welcome to The Bluebird Paradox, a gritty MicroZine written by me, Chris Sadhill, that explores the coexistence of light and darkness, focusing on social issues and the human experiences we often overlook, presented through various short stories, poetry, and other creative arts.The Bluebird pays homage to Charles Bukowski’s poem Bluebird, which delves into themes of vulnerability, repression, and the struggle to express oneself authentically.Often, the Bluebird symbolizes hope, love, positivity, and renewal; however, throughout my life, I’ve observed the presence of darkness where there is light, leading me to believe in a paradoxical relationship between the two.The Bluebird Paradox embraces the inherent contradictions and complexities of our existence and seeks to reveal deeper truths about society, emotions, and the human experience.As always, thank you for being here. Please enjoy the read.Everywhere we look this month, we’re reminded to be “thankful.” Whether it’s a branded coffee cup, ads burning holes into our retinas, the mini billboards looming at the gas pumps, or Aunt Janis tapping her third wine glass at the dinner table, demanding everyone share what they’re thankful for, the message is everywhere—and so is the pressure.Hell, even I’m talking about it. Jeez!But for those deeply suffering—drowning in despair for whatever reason—being thankful, or finding something to be thankful for, is easier said than done. Ironically, the changing seasons often intensify these issues.When you’re “in it,” the pain is raw, immediate, and overwhelming. It’s hard to gain perspective, to see how lucky you really are, to notice the people closest to you, or sometimes right in front of you, who’ve been throwing you life preservers all along. During the darkest times, vision narrows; to those on the outside looking in, it can look like someone feral and out of control, drowning, or clawing desperately at anything they can reach—sometimes even hurting loved ones in the process.Maybe that’s why these traditions, passed down by those wiser and older than us, encourage reflection. They nudge us to consider why or how we’re still alive, to appreciate the people who’ve contributed to our successes—or at least helped us fail less—or even to recognize the sheer improbability of being here at all. Hundreds of decisions, events, or chances could’ve led to the opposite outcome, where you are Not Here.Is taking a moment to reflect really such a bad thing? Should those of us who are suffering make the extra effort to notice how loved we are, even if we don’t feel it or see it?Thanksgiving, in particular, forces this expectation to “be thankful.” We’re often put on the spot to express gratitude, as though we should’ve prepared a speech or something. It can feel awkward and intense—especially when confronting our feelings in front of others, especially when we’re blind to those feelings.If you’re like me, even in darkness, you’re still aware of what’s in the light. Sometimes, it’s the reflection of seeing how your suffering hurts others that spirals you further. But that awareness is important, and it’s the start of something better.If you can still see the people who love you, it’s not too late. Stop fighting. Let them in. Trust that even if they fail, it’s out of love and compassion. You won’t be any worse off anyway, right? And if they succeed, well, everything improves. So, there’s no downside. Take the time to notice them, appreciate them, and thank them—not with your words, but with your trust.And for those who are trying, tired of throwing a limp rope, keep trying. We see you. Know that many of us are fully aware of your pain. We look through a dark window at your suffering daily and just know at times it feels impossible to stop even when we are aware. Never forget that our intentions are love. We don’t want this either.Take time to be thankful for each other.This month’s theme is inspired by a poem I wrote in 2023 titled Lifeline. I wrote it as a poetic apology to my wife—but more so as an acknowledgment of the pain I’ve caused her over the years when I spiral into that dark place hating myself. I also wrote it as a reminder for me to let her help me when I’m suffering, to entrust that she is strong and capable enough to handle it, and to pull me out.If you’ve ever spiraled so far inward that climbing back out feels impossible, this poem is for you. When you’re living in that shadow, you’re painfully aware of how much it hurts those you love, and seeing it happen in real time damages you even more.I hope reading this encourages you to grab hold of that rope, as I have, and let others help you—for once.Lifeline Today, she wept for me, because she couldn’t comprehend how incapable I am of seeing the genius, she sees in her besotted stare. Her face, an estuary— where pity flowed into disdain as she was forced to remain a spectator of my demise, watching me loving myself through degradation and sabotage, and avoiding the mirror like it was the plague. I wallowed in it, transfixed by the destructive vortex, hellbent on pulling me under, while she threw me a lifeline, a line that would’ve undoubtedly saved me. But instead she stood there, makeup smeared, grasping that limp rope— tethered to my darkness, lonely, scathed, and powerless, because the whole time I’d been hurling the preserver back at her, choosing to surrender to drowning over her loving embrace. And I know it. And it hurts me too. And I’m sorry, I regret it every time. Today, my wife mourned me, because she didn’t understand the darkness I live with or how sometimes it swallows me whole. And when it does, neither of us know if it’ll spit me back out, or take me under for good. Today, she wept for me, but mostly for herself, left alone once again to attend my funeral for the three-hundredth time— just as heartbroken, just as devastated as the first. When will I learn to divert the raging waters devouring our foundation before the ground crumbles away, and takes us both? When will I learn to grab the rope? ©2023 Chris SadhillSadhill’s Music Minute“Night” by Daniel Spaleniak encapsulates the struggle of living in and out of darkness. The song begins with an invitation to observe the quietness of the night, hinting that the blackness is perhaps bleaker and lonelier than it seems, often pulling us in beyond our control. He then suggests that external forces have both contributed to his despair—switching him off—and later offered salvation when someone grabs his arm, guiding him out of the void.Daniel’s gritty, melancholic voice pairs with a haunting tone and melody that convey the pain of both the sufferer and those reaching out with a lifeline.The result is raw and undeniably beautiful.While the lyrics and atmosphere are heavy with depression and misery, the song ultimately delivers a positive message: if we allow ourselves to listen, trust, and follow those who wish to help, we may feel the rain again—and in doing so, trade our bad dreams for good ones."Night" was featured in S2E2 of the television series "Six", and S3E10 of Hulu’s drama series "The Path” in 2018.Sadhill NewsWriting BattleThe results for the 2024 Autumn Short Story Battle aren’t out yet.My story, The Roach and the Butterfly, has officially completed its duels in the peer-judging phase along with approximately 1,460 others. At this point, my fate is likely sealed—unless, by some miracle, it has made it into the finals. If that’s the case, it’s now in the hands of the professional judges.Regardless, reveal day is December 1st, so the wait continues to find out how my story is placed.Twisted TournamentBy the time this issue drops, I’ll have already submitted my entries and started judging my fellow writers’ 500, 250, and 100-word stories. This is the second Twisted Tournament contest I’ve entered, and if it’s like the first, it’s going to be wild. Stay tuned for the results in the next update.Tyrone-Snyder Public LibraryI’m honored to have been recently added to the local author list at my library—how amazing is that?!I was surprised with the updated list earlier this month, and it nearly brought me to tears. This recognition means the world to me. It keeps me focused on my goals, knowing I have such an incredible support system—not just at home, but now at work, too.I’m beyond grateful for my team at the Tyrone Library. They’re truly something special, and I can’t wait to debut my first book there...whenever I finally finish it!PublicationsI loved my Autumn Writing Battle story, The Roach and the Butterfly, so much that I’ve submitted it to Apex Magazine which is still open for submissions at the time I write this. I’m hopeful they’ll find it compelling enough to publish.As always, time will tell, but just in case, I’ve scouted a few other potential lit mags I can submit to if they decline. Their response should take around forty-five (45) days.I’ve also submitted several of my nature poems Plucked, Breathing In The Sun, Daffodil, Natural State, and Pigeon Wine to Appalachian Review which I feel is a perfect home for these poems. Their turnaround time is typically ten months—It’ll be a while, but I think it’s worth the wait!Wish me luck!Upcoming Events & Contests:2024 Writers Playground: Next Date Unknown2024 53-Word Story Contest: Dec 1st- 14th2025 Winter Short Story Battle Writing Battle: Feb 6th- Feb 9th2025 Twisted Tournament 3: Feb 17th- Mar 12th (Considering NOT)October’s Challenge WinnerThank you, everyone, for submitting to last month's challenge. I’m always impressed by the amount of talented pieces you all send me. To recap, the prompts were “Season of Decay, Amber Helix, or Repugnance.”Congratulations to Mariah for the win!The winning poem is contemplative and melancholic, but not despairing. It presents the natural world as a place where life and death coexist in harmony and is a gorgeous metaphor for the inevitability of death and the traces we leave behind.Momento Moriby MariahRich autumnal odorOf mottled fernsAnd loamy earthDappled sunlightFalls upon a sepulcherOf soft moss on maple rootsEphemera of bent treesPrinted like epitaphsOn brittle leavesMariah prefers a life of solitude, much like Dickinson. In fact, I’ve often compared her style, depth, and use of gorgeous language to be equal to—or even surpass—Emily’s.Mariah showcases a small portion of her work on theprose.com. I’m honored she was willing to share this piece with us and, as always, I look forward to her next one.Sadhill Writing Challenge (500 Words)Each month I provide a Writing prompt encouraging fellow writers to stay sharp, compete in friendly competition, and challenge them to push past their creative boundaries. The winning piece will be featured in next month’s issue as well as any links the winner wants to share to promote their brand.November Prompt: “Open Call”Rules:* Any style of Prose or Poetry is accepted.* It must be five hundred (500) words or less.* Only one (1) entry per writer per monthly contest.* Reprints and Simultaneous Submissions are encouraged.* This month’s deadline is 11:59 PM or by the end of Monday, December 23rd, 2024 to allow time for final edits.* You must be subscribed to The Bluebird Paradox to enter this challenge.* Your entry does not have to include the prompt word or phrase but must have the essence of the meaning captured. Metaphor and obscurity are encouraged and finding something beautiful in the darkness is even better.* If it is an “Open Call” all themes or genres are encouraged.* All entries must be sent to: [email protected]. Please use the Subject Line: Sadhill Writing Challenge (Include the Month). You may paste the story directly in the body of the email or attach a file. Please include any promotional links you would like to advertise.* This is an opportunity to showcase your talent and work while cross-promoting your brand with mine. In the future, there may be prizes awarded, but for now, there are none. I’m poor, damnit. If you have any donations, such as books or merch you’d like to donate for promotional giveaways, email me and I will spread the word in my next issue!* By entering, you agree for your work to be published in my MicroZine for no less than one (1) month and if chosen as the winner it will be included as content on my Substack.* You retain all rights to your work and upon request, I’ll gladly remove it for any reason following the featured month of publication. In the event of removal, the story title and name will remain listed along with any links to your new piece’s home, if you would like.Good Luck. See you next month!…and please leave a comment. I love hearing from you. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrissadhill.substack.com

Welcome to The Bluebird Paradox, a gritty MicroZine written by me, Chris Sadhill, that explores the coexistence of light and darkness, focusing on social issues and the human experiences we often overlook, presented through various short stories, poetry, and other creative arts.The Bluebird pays homage to Charles Bukowski’s poem Bluebird, which delves into themes of vulnerability, repression, and the struggle to express oneself authentically.Often, the Bluebird symbolizes hope, love, positivity, and renewal; however, throughout my life, I’ve observed the presence of darkness where there is light, leading me to believe in a paradoxical relationship between the two.The Bluebird Paradox embraces the inherent contradictions and complexities of our existence and seeks to reveal deeper truths about society, emotions, and the human experience.As always, thank you for being here. Please enjoy the read.Too often, our minds become the battlefield for good and evil, quickly turning into ground zero for self-sabotage. It’s a brain parasite, eating away our resilience like piranhas. This illusion of love and self-hate creates an abomination resembling a snake eating its tail—except there’s no rebirth, just the recurrence of resentment and regret. We feast on indulgence and self-deception, lying to our reflection, knowing that this cycle is poisonous. It’s perpetual and agonizing, yet we keep making these revolutions, revisiting the barren wasteland of false hopes, and returning home with nothing but destruction and toxicity, assuming we’ll achieve a different outcome. So, here we are again, ending where we started, in a place that feels uncomfortably familiar—lapping infinity.Some of us love playing the same song on repeat because it’s our anthem, our identity, all we know. But deep inside, we each want something more, never realizing it’s the bumpy road making the disc jump, forcing the song to skip and restart repeatedly. Most refuse to drive the smooth roads because the back ones are just too much fun.We normalize this behavior. We place ourselves in invisible handcuffs, choosing to be burdened by our magnetism to what feels good in the moment, not what’s better in the long run. It’s the immediacy of pleasure, the dopamine rush we get high on, that consumes us—until regret hits. Then it’s hell. Then it’s darkness and depression.We do this to ourselves. We do it in relationships, to each other, to our environments, and to our children. We’d rather sabotage our potential for greatness—or someone else’s—than face the steep road to improvement, or to get out of an iffy situation.Self-Sabotage is a cold-hearted bitch. I know her intimately. She’s whispered in my ear more times than I can count, offering pleasure, promising I’ll forget the pain, the stress, and all my problems if I just give in a little. Her warm breath is always too seductive to turn away.As I write this, I’m considering which dessert I want to plow into my face tonight, and strategizing how to talk my wife into picking it up on the way home! It’s a sickness, and it’s fucking disgusting. I’m a crack addict, except my white rocks are sugar cubes. I mean, who doesn’t love sweets? Who wouldn’t want to hang their gaping mouth under a soft-serve machine, pull the lever, and go fucking wild? It’s a problem that can easily spiral out of control—and the irony is, control is all I want.My personality seeks addiction. I yearn for anything to relieve life’s burdens, to help me cope with unresolved mental health, to forget my stress and anxiety, even for a moment. Sex, porn, drugs, cigarettes, food, gaming, and even the pitiful act of attention seeking—all addictions, all ways I’ve tried to gain control over my internal chaos. There have always been issues—dating back to kindergarten when I was court-ordered to visit my father in jail. I know it, I despise it, but I still give in. The urges are overpowering most of the time. Maybe it’s OCD? Maybe ADHD? Maybe it’s simply an excuse. I don’t know. Regardless, my mind won’t stop until I give in. It’s a ceaseless war that I’ve only recently started winning.For the past few years have I been slowly beating the house.I quit smoking over fifty times before actually succeeding just over four years ago. Three times I quit for a few months, getting past the worst parts, only to convince myself I was too stressed and needed a smoke. I believed I could have just one and I’d be ok. As I said, the bitch got me every time. There is always a reason that seems too desirable, or too real, not to turn down. A feening addict will justify anything to get their fix.I’m still fighting my vices, tackling one thing at a time, replacing the bad with the good—like writing, gardening, hiking, photography, or any activities that still give me that hit I need, but aren’t harmful to my health or instead improve it. I’ve even replaced negative people with supportive ones. I recommend others do the same.But remember to avoid taking on everything at once—you’re likely setting yourself up to become overwhelmed, which is sabotage disguised as self-improvement. You may think it’ll work. For most, it won’t.Whether you undermine your success as I’ve mentioned or keep rolling the dice in a dead-end relationship, knowing and accepting you have a problem is the first step. You have to come face-to-face with the wolf. Be honest with yourself, embrace humility, and get comfortable with regular failure to succeed. If you don’t, you’ll keep devouring yourself until there’s nothing left.Understand it’s a numbers game—the odds favor relapse. Embrace the process and never look back. It may be comforting to know others are struggling daily too.You are not alone.You can do it. Never think you can’t.If you keep circling and want out, all it takes is a slight change in direction, and you won’t be able to complete the loop anymore. Consider a 1% change daily. In less than a year, you could make a drastic improvement.This month’s theme is inspired by a new poem I wrote in 2024, titled Perennial, for an open-ended creative writing prompt: “How I Feel Autumn's Ache—Virginia Woolf.” If you’ve ever suppressed your progress, in any way, this poem is for you, and for those who have gone round and round with a toxic loved one and could never seem to escape, this is also for you. There are many interpretations you can find in this piece, beyond my original intent. Ultimately, this month, self-sabotage takes center stage.I’m thrilled to have been selected as an honorable mention.perennial This thing we do revolves the sun; it spirals inward until we surrender ourselves onto the bistered famished soil— an amber helix of resentment and rotting leaves, overcast and acid rain. Our backs boil as we drown in November mud, foreboding the inescapable decay. And then the congeal of a white sea, And then the lust of Lavandula, And then the sweat of June beetles fucking, And then, the tipping point of the equinox where we revisit repugnance. ©2024 Chris SadhillSadhill’s Music Minute“YO! MY SAINT” by Karen O (feat. Michael Kiwanuka) is not your typical ballad. Every line hits with an emotional punch that contributes to a much larger story—one that feels all too familiar.Michael starts the song with a soulful, raspy tone, grounding us in his emotional need to reconnect with a former lover while constantly being reminded of her. In contrast, Karen’s response carries a detached attitude, reflecting years of resentment and perhaps the feeling of being trapped by his love or control over her life.There’s an obvious push and pull in both the writing and the interplay between Karen and Michael’s voices, adding layers to the storytelling and creating a multi-dimensional listening experience. The tempo changes, overlapping vocals, and artful transitions truly enhance the overall vibe.As the song progresses, the two singers perfectly capture the angst experienced during the ebb and flow of a relationship, even hinting at what comes after it ends. Spoiler alert: more suffering. The song expertly highlights the complexity of love and heartache.I will always find an excuse to revisit my filmmaking roots, and I found the collaboration between music and film in this project astounding. I was blown away when I learned that "YO! MY SAINT" was originally composed for a short film of the same name, produced to promote Kenzo’s 2018 spring campaign. What a concept!I highly recommend watching the entire short film, which I’ve featured below. It’s incredibly well done."YO! MY SAINT" won Best Music at the Fashion Film Festival Milano in 2018.Sadhill News* Since my last issue, I’ve taken on a library job. Now, I’m swimming in a sea of books and loving it. However, between that and a few fall outdoor projects, I’ve slowed down working on my larger writing pieces while adjusting to the new schedule. I’ve still been writing, though, focusing on shorter pieces and submitting poems and short stories to challenges on theprose.com. So far, I’ve won one and received honorable mentions in a couple of others.* My story, Cardinal Sin, placed 9th overall in the “Twist in the Tale” weekly side quest challenge. That was a fun one to write.* By the time this issue drops, I will have already submitted my entry for the Autumn Short Story contest and started judging my fellow writers’ 2000-word stories. It’s always a wild experience, but this time it feels more significant—being my battle-versary with Writing Battle! I can’t believe it’s been a whole year. Good luck to everyone competing.PublicationsI received one response since the last issue and it’s a huge bummer:Seaside Gothic: Not selected for publication.I really thought my poem would fit right in with their ocean vibe, but it didn’t—at least not for their next issue. It’s a little depressing, but that’s the game I chose to play. I’m a writer.I remain hopeful that last year’s prize-winning poem, The Current, will find a home soon.Wish me luck! It seems like I need it.Upcoming Events & Contests:2024 Autumn Short Story Battle Writing Battle: Oct 20th- Oct 27th2024 Twisted Tournament # 2: Nov 11th-Nov 17th2024 Writers Playground: Next Date UnknownSeptember’s Challenge WinnerThank you, everyone, for submitting to last month's challenge! I had a record number of entries, and I hope this momentum continues. To recap, the prompt was an "Open Call: Any theme. Any genre."Congratulations to Lincoln McAlister for the win!His winning entry is a short poem that captures the duality of creation and destruction, beauty and hardship, and love and loss—a profound reflection on the human experience.My Hands Have Held the AxeBy Lincoln McAlisterMy hands have held the axe, the gun and the knife.My hands have held the wild bird, the turtle and the pup.My hands have held the book, the pen and the paper.My hands have held the girl I loved at the temple of her.My eyes have seen the ocean, the mountain and the field.My eyes have seen the sunset, the crescent moon and the star.My hands have made fists, built things of steel and hammered.My hands have cut great stalks of sunflowers tree and seed.My hands have healed, loved and shook.My eyes have seen the fallen, the mighty and the brave.My eyes have seen the beautiful the ugly and the insane.And in one moment I loved it all.Lincoln McAlister did not share any social links or branding information. I thank him for sharing this wonderful poem and wish him luck with writing.Sadhill Writing Challenge (500 Words)Each month I provide a Writing prompt encouraging fellow writers to stay sharp, compete in friendly competition, and challenge them to push past their creative boundaries. The winning piece will be featured in next month’s issue as well as any links the winner wants to share to promote their brand.This month there are three (3) options to choose from:October Prompts: “Season of Decay, Amber Helix, or Repugnance”Rules:* Any style of Prose or Poetry is accepted.* Must be five hundred (500) words or less.* Only one (1) entry per writer per monthly contest.* Reprints and Simultaneous Submissions are encouraged.* This month’s deadline is 11:59 PM or by the end of Friday, November 22nd, 2024 to allow time for final edits.* You must be subscribed to The Bluebird Paradox to enter this challenge.* Your entry does not have to include the prompt word or phrase but must have the essence of the meaning captured. Metaphor and obscurity are encouraged and finding something beautiful in the darkness is even better.* If it is an “Open Call” all themes or genres are encouraged.* All entries must be sent to: [email protected]. Please use the Subject Line: Sadhill Writing Challenge (Include the Month). You may paste the story directly in the body of the email or attach a file. Please include any promotional links you would like to advertise.* This is an opportunity to showcase your talent and work while cross-promoting your brand with mine. In the future, there may be prizes awarded, but for now, there are none. I’m poor, damnit. If you have any donations, such as books or merch you’d like to donate for promotional giveaways, email me and I will spread the word in my next issue!* By entering, you agree for your work to be published in my MicroZine for no less than one (1) month and if chosen as the winner it will be included as content on my Substack.* You retain all rights to your work and upon request, I’ll gladly remove it for any reason following the featured month of publication. In the event of removal, the story title and name will remain listed along with any links to your new piece’s home, if you would like.Good Luck. See you next month!…and please leave a comment. I love hearing from you. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrissadhill.substack.com

Today, we're asking a question we often avoid: when you look in the mirror, who do you really see? Is it a vision of success or does self-doubt linger in the reflection?We’ll explore the masks we wear, the lies we tell ourselves, and the hard truths we often avoid. Inspired by my poem Being the Fairest is For Pussies, this episode is about peeling back the layers, exploring the messy process of self-love, and discussing how to take charge of your own growth instead of waiting for someone else to define it for you.We’ll also talk about the song “Warm Shadow” by Fink, how a recent loss of mine as a competitive writer could offer some insight, my struggles with submitting work to literary magazines, and the hope I hold for the months ahead. Plus, we’ll feature the poem A Daughter’s Absolution by B.S. Jennison, the winner of last month’s Writing Challenge.There’s a lot to cover. Let’s dive in and keep it real, raw, and unfiltered. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit chrissadhill.substack.com