Hi, I’m Wilder! I use they/he pronouns, and I’m a twenty-something American writer with roots in the rural Midwest—though NYC does hold my heart too.
I do poetry, short stories, nonfiction essays, journalism, and I have a published novel—which I don’t much like to talk about. I haven’t written on my own in a couple years, but one of my besties and I are working on a book together. Incidentally, it’s none of the current WIPs listed below. ;)
Outside of writing, I enjoy raising chickens, chatting with my local crow murder, fiber crafts, drawing, horseback riding, and a good cup of tea. One of my major ambitions is to see more of the world despite my failing health, though I have no doubt the countryside will always call me home somehow.
Current WIPs
— On a skybound island kept afloat by the sheer magic of belief, anxious prince Rafferty is relieved to be publicly deemed unfit for succession. When Raff and a notorious outlaw have their bodies swapped under mysterious circumstances, a now disguised Rafferty is forced to take up arms with the outlaw’s underground resistance—whose sole strength is its lack of belief in the very magic that keeps the island afloat. [Worldbuildy, gender fuckery, complex magic system, horror, parentification, how belief and reputation shape identity]
—Mired in clinical depression and the wasteland that is the job market, recent biology grad Padget laments the loss of her BFF June, who has gone abroad to graduate school to pursue more promising things than their friendship. But when Padge discovers something gruesome with a ghost-hunting app, she devises a plan to hunt down the supernatural and scientifically prove its existence—showing June she’s still worth their once unshakable bond by fulfilling their shared childhood dream. [Aftermath of a friendship breakup, roadtrip, ghosthunting, codependency, happiness is a cryptid but joy is real]
—In a rural Midwestern riff on the Selkie myth, Candor, a young deer-shifter, is shot and loses his pelt shortly before Hunting Widows Weekend. He is taken under the wing of a genderfluid poultry farmer named Kay, and as he heals, the pair bond over the freedom fluidity brings while Hunting Opener draws closer—and while the Deerfolk sharpen their teeth in the wake of Candor’s “death.” [More gender fuckery, romance, mild horror, the existential crisis that comes with straddling two opposing worlds and what it means to make a third that’s your own]
