Drabbles from a Moon-Eyed Fox

Four weeks ago, I created @moon-eyed-fox on Bluesky, and began posting micro fiction and world-building drabbles every day, each landing somewhere on the spectrum between cozy and creepy. There’s simmering soup in cast iron pots. There are small, hidden doors that weren’t there the day before. There’s a heartsick wind that loves a mortal and a scarlet flame that never dies.

It’s the epitome of ‘no plot, just vibes,’ and it’s been so fun, and surprisingly therapeutic. I’m deep in the drafting process for an 80,000-word romantasy, and I’ve been desperately deficient in that dopamine hit that comes from finishing a project. While I could have written these in a quiet notebook, I’ve also always loved micro fiction accounts like Pastoral Fantasies, Girls Running From Houses and Hookland, and had been feeling like I should sneak a toe back into the realm of social media after taking several months away from being online. Posting these fox drabbles has allowed me to re-enter that space in a way that feeds me creatively, as well as (hopefully) offering something interesting and entertaining to the community.

After four weeks of daily posting, I have indeed upped my dopamine and made some genuinely lovely new connections with writers and creatives on Bluesky. But I’ve also found that writing these snippets and posting them every day has brought those worlds that I love to live in—those whimsical and macabre and uncanny and cozy worlds—as close to me as my own shadow. It’s simpler than it’s ever been to uncap my pen and channel details of the strange and wonderful.

It makes sense, of course. The more you practice something, the more it becomes second nature, and art is certainly no exception. But I think with writing in particular, it’s important to remember that not every word needs to lead to a polished story. Not every idea needs to be molded into a sellable project. Practice doesn’t need to lead to perfect. For me, giving myself permission to just play in these drabbles, to write out a few sentences of a world or a character that might not go anywhere, has taken a huge amount of pressure off. And that in turn (I’m shocked, I tell you) leads to more inspiration.

If you’re local to Victoria and are craving some group writing practice yourself, I co-host a monthly writing group at the McTavish Academy of Art in North Saanich. We meet on the first Sunday of the month for two hours to write from prompts and share aloud to the group. We make a point of cultivating a warm and encouraging environment, and writers of all genres and levels are welcome. Click here for more info and registration; each meeting is $5/person to help cover the cost of the room. We still have a few spots available in December’s group, and registration for January through June 2026 is now open.

Do you have a favourite prompt or writing exercise that gets the creative juices going? A micro fiction that you love? I’d love to hear about it.

PS: I’m presenting “Demystifying the Query Process” to the Sidney and North Saanich Writers Society on November 20th, more information here. If you’re thinking about diving into the query trenches, this talk goes over how to put together an effective query package using real-life successful query examples from writers who were all signed within the last two years, and I also talk about researching agents and green and red flags to watch out for.

PPS: You may notice that Inksmithing is now coming from Beehiiv, instead of Substack. Far more articulate people than I have explained their reasoning for moving to a different newsletter platform, but major reasons are the unapologetic platform they’ve given to white supremacists, how the platform is destroying journalism, and most recently, their absolute terrible attitude toward creators. Using Beehiiv avoids those issues, and the only change to subscribers is the email address that shows up in the ‘from’ field.