Sheila Callaghan.

May 17, 2023May 17, 2023

Corporate greed made me do it.

And by “it” I mean, dive naked head-first into an Olympic-sized pool of razor blades. Which is how it feels to be dealing with the logistical, financial, and emotional fallout of the colossal WGA work shut-down. In case you’re curious.

Week three.

In addition to having one’s career be snuffed out overnight for the foreseeable future AGAIN (ok, 2020 theater), nothing could have prepared me for the physical labor of pacing non-stop for four hours daily while battling near constant coastal winds with a giant poster board. Not to mention the writerly shame of failing to invent a witty sign slogan.

Unshockingly, we’re not the only labor organization willing to risk everything for better working conditions and fair pay. People are tired of feeling broken and used. And yes, the process of resisting harmful structures is grueling and time consuming and terrifying. But in my experience, unified action CAN AND WILL create change.

And of course, we could use help. Allyship works. I did math to prove it:

• one voice = sound

• two voices = harmony

• three voices = noise

• 100 voices = thunder

I realize I sound like a Facebook post about climate change or a Gofundme page for a no-kill shelter. But I’m too goddamn tired to make it sexy. I have ideas. You could donate bulk snacks to the picket lines. Or give $$ to the WGA relief fund. Or walk with your striking friends at a designated picket site. Or post solidarity messages on social media. Or (big one) re-consider your relationship to the subscription services you patronize. Even the tiniest gesture could be the morale boost that gets us all through the long summer ahead. ‘Cause bro, we’re gonna need it.

With gratitude and determination,

PS: If you literally have no idea what I’m talking about, start here.

March 15, 2023May 17, 2023

Not real.

Hi. This is not a real update. This is just to let you know I’m alive and writing. I’ve been trying to smallen my communication load, which sometimes feels like a deep breath and sometimes feels like constant gasping. It also means I’ve been slow on the ol’ socials, along with everything else. So I’m thinking this is my new regular. Which isn’t bad I guess. Though as a restless insomniac who spends her waking hours inside a long-form spasm, the dissonance is uncomfortable.

But I’m writing. Writing writing.

In the meantime, we made some books. Please buy them. They are gorgeous.

December 11, 2021December 11, 2021

Wholesome pursuits.

Big props to the Omicron variant for refreshing my anxiety/phobia/fury at people who wear masks beneath their noses. I plan to distract myself from this new microbial purgatory with a host of habits/skills/interests I’ve acquired during the pandemy:

The compulsive acquisition and propagation of a rather large assortment of houseplants. These remain unkilled at the time of this writing, which is nothing short of a miracle. Although I feel like I’m teetering between a hobby and an obsession. Where is the line? (Photographic evidence to follow.)
Reaching Expert+ level on Beatsaber. I am alone on this journey. Please DM me on my regular Insta if you’d like to join a multiplayer room. I’m serious.
A fresh addiction to TikTok. I won’t go into the myriad ways I ingest content on this platform, but I’ve also begun experimenting with content generation. No idea why. Blame the ‘rona.
Some new fitness certifications. In addition to being a Yoga Alliance registered E-RYT® 200, I’m now a Certified Personal Trainer through NASM® and an official SPINNING® instructor. I wanna start a private training group geared toward writers and folks in the industry. DM me on my fitness Insta if you’re in interested.

I won’t discuss my towering stack of less-wholesome pursuits because I value your esteem. Instead, here’s a butt-ton of plants I haven’t murdered yet: