#ccwriting

It took awhile, but the next chapter is out!! it ended up 23k words! I hope you'll all enjoy <3

A year ago I launched a true crime blog dedicated to the crime & cold cases of New York. Crime & the City then became a podcast, something I never thought I’d be comfortable doing. Like most writers and artists, I was always more comfortable in a behind the scenes/behind the screen scenario. True Crime has always been a huge interest to me and stems from my lifelong love of mystery novels. My approach to delivering each case embodies the spirit of a mystery novel, as I weave the characters and details through the pages of crime statistics and criminal psychology profiling. 

You can read my cases and listen to the podcast here: Crime & the City

My name is Christina and I am a writer, kind of. I have always loved the written word; I’ve had my face buried in a book since childhood, have found that I can better express myself through written words, have considered myself a writer in my head since childhood. Poetry, Fiction, Fantasy, Mystery, University research papers...I have taken pleasure in writing all of these. Even a well-crafted post-it note has brought me joy. 

As most creatives do, I’ve found myself at several crossroads throughout my life. When applying to college over a decade ago I was torn between following my passion for fashion design and the arts, or following my love of the written word. I chose fashion. While embarking on the road I had chosen, I always wondered what my life would be like if I had chosen to go left at the fork in my road instead. Throughout a career in fashion, marketing and business, I remained steadfast in my love affair with writing and literature. I wrote chapters of books I wanted to publish while sitting in the NYC subway system, commuting to jobs that left me longing for more. I read books to escape the monotony of corporate life and consumed audio books while working on marketing campaigns for multi-billion dollar businesses. And now...well, now I find myself at yet another crossroad. 

The Covid-19 pandemic took a lot from hundreds of thousands of people this past year. It took a lot from me as well. Some things I am grateful for, some have let scars in my heart. 

Some people may view a lost job as a tragedy, but I am not as detached from the real world, and what truly matters, to feel that way. I was grateful. For the first time in over a decade, I was left unemployed due to Covid-19 layoffs and cutbacks. I thought of my future and all I saw in front of me was a blank canvas. I had longed for this reprieve for years; an opportunity to reevaluate and reshape my career goals and ultimately, my happiness. My future was mine again. That freedom quickly left me with mountains of dread. What should I do now? Do I continue on the same general path I was on? I had racked up so many years of experience and painstakingly climbed ladder after ladder, but I was left burnt out and quite frankly, very miserable. My career life lacked passion and joy and a sense of purpose. I wanted more. I needed more. “I could finally be a writer” that small voice in my head timidly shouted. I had put that voice down so many times over the years because my logical voice, which sounded much like my father’s, would always shout a little louder that I had bills to pay and needed a reliable, logical, safer choice. Well, my reliable, logical, safer choice, saw me furloughed within a week of the pandemic and laid off a few months after. I bet on the “smart” plan, the one my 18-year-old self would have been disappointed with, and it failed me. It was time to take a chance on what filled me with joy instead. 

“Did you -- uh -- did you know Chowder could dance like that?” Tango whispers to Whiskey, who’s eyeing the scene with a critical eye. It’s their first Kegster, and Tango’s a bit overwhelmed. Chowder, sweet, innocent Chowder, is dancing with Farmer, if it can be called dancing.

“It’s like they’re having sex standing up,” Whiskey says, one eyebrow raised. He’s exactly right. Chowder’s got his hands tight on Farmer’s ass and she’s grinding down on his leg while her hands roam his chest inside his shirt. Their mouths haven’t separated since the song began.

“Wow,” Tango breathes. “Um. Huh. Do you think she ever gets caught in his braces?”

[send me a: "✉" and i’ll handwrite a little story for you]

Hi sorry so this got a little long and I just decided to type it, hope you don’t mind! Enjoy~

—Chelsea

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There was once a world, where the stars fell like snow. A girl watched them drift and settle soundlessly at her feet. She reached out to grasp them, but their brilliance burned her skin every time. She sat down and cried into her hands, wanting to touch the star-littered ground and pick out the silver specks in her hair. A hand brushed softly across her shoulder, and she looked up in surprise to see a boy standing over her, his hand dusted with the stars he had just swept from her shirt. Her eyes flickered from the brilliance at his fingertips to his face; she marveled at his eyes, which were the same shade of silver as the falling stars and shimmering with the same light. He grinned when she met his gaze, and splashed the stars onto her lap. Her face fell again when she looked down at them, serenely white against her dark blue jeans. “I can’t touch them,” she whispered sadly, tears circling behind her eyes again. “Can’t touch them!” He exclaimed in dismay, as if nothing more terrible could happen to a person. He knelt down before her and reached out to take her face in his hands. His fingers were pleasantly cool, his touch soothing and gentle, yet sparking a faint sense of excitement within her. She held her breath, captivated by his scintillating eyes. The boy leaned closer and lowered his voice, as if he was about to tell her a secret. “You must swallow them first,” he instructed, his breath stirring the fringes of her hair. She widened her eyes in shock. “But they’ll burn my lips!” He looked up and thought for a while, then smiled when an idea came to him. Her eyes trailed down to his hand when she saw it move to scoop up a handful of stars. She gasped when he tipped his head back and poured them into his mouth, letting them settle on his tongue. “What are you doing?” She burst out, widening her eyes. But he only took her face in his hands again, tilting her chin up and lowering his lips onto hers. She felt him more than she felt the stars, his soft lips somehow masking over the icily searing sensation of them. It was the weirdest feeling she had ever felt, swallowing stars. They burned her throat like molten glass, yet frosted in her mouth like tiny crystals. But most of all she felt him, his fingers against her cheeks, his nose brushing against hers, and his lips—never before had she been kissed by someone like this, and she was certain she’ll never be again. When the boy finally pulled away, she opened her eyes to see herself reflected in his silver-gray ones. From the depths of those shimmering pools, she saw her reflection blinking back at her with eyes that twinkled with the same light. 

Her mouth widened in awe and disbelief, and she reached out a hesitant hand to brush off the stars that had settled on her hair. Her fingers came away flecked with lights, but this time, they did not burn her skin. She felt her face split into a smile as she looked up to meet his eyes again.

“Thank you,” she said in wonder.

He laughed. “You’re welcome. Now, won’t you play a game with me?”

She cocked her head at him, curious. He stood up and stepped back, stirring up a flurry of stars that had settled at his feet.

“I’ll turn into one of them.” He swept his arm in a wide circle and gestured at the world around them. “Now then, find me if you can.” Grinning mischievously, he vanished and left the girl looking at the empty space before her.

She shook her head at his child-like behavior, but stood up nevertheless and dusted herself off as she turned to reach out her hands again, grabbing the stars one by one. She searched for the one that had the same tangibility as the boy; soft, gentle, and warm yet with an undercurrent of wintriness. The stars continued to drift around her and mix with the ones on the ground, so that she couldn’t remember which was which. It was quite a daunting task, but she was determined to see the boy again.

“If I find you, will you take me with you to wherever you are going?” She called to the skies, her eyes darting across the expanse of shimmering white stars.

A reply came soon after, and though she couldn’t pinpoint where it was from, the words made her heart stutter in excitement.

“Of course. Find me quickly, then, and let’s travel the world together.”

—

There was once a world, where stars fell like snow.

A girl watched them drift, and settle at her feet.

A boy who fell in love with her, kissed stars into her mouth

Then he whispered in her ear, “Come travel the world with me.”

—