V. H. King's Ink

I like to think in-between worlds are an exercise in synesthesia. Shadows threading through your fingers, curling up to your ears. Whispered messages wrapping like an arm around your shoulders, pushing you onward, yanking you back by the seat of your pants. Colorful sunsets that taste like dirt, deep earth, lush grass, cold rivers.

Some of my stories delve into the lived experience of such mysteries. Ordinary rituals, routine wisdom, insights gained from evolution and ancestry. My body cannot deny such things, because my spirit is intricately threaded through every iteration of my being. Take that for what you will–which is, in some ways, my advice for stories you find on this page.

I am learning the language for how I experience and understand the world around me. This has always been embedded in my exercise of writing; I am simply sharing part of the process with you. I am continually learning what it means to be: in, with, my BlackQueerDisabled bodyspiritmind.

My writing and art might seem like the results of a process. Perhaps in some ways, it is. At the same time, I’m inclined to believe there’s far more to the mysteries of growing into the fullness of one’s person and purpose than what fits into a few sentences or a summary.

I am neither authority nor expert;

I am forever learning

how to live.

Stories of the Haint and the Holy