O. Wilder

O. Wilder. Novelist. Musing about reading, writing, music, and anime. “Here I am. Neither a woman nor a man. We are joined, we are one with the human face. I am on earth and I am in outer space. I'm being born and I am dying.” “Mo sor’tid nat divis Chai ii Adreth sen ot teh saroht’lind ii meos. Puit-nat danse-e’bn duit-nat mo an fin, ii duit-nat mo naan leviht?” Carpe noctum. Less a social butterfly and more a social bat. I no longer fall in love with rocks.

[owilder]

The Crimson Realm: Series the First: Chronicles of League the Second: Book the First: A New World

Synopsis: Nine children from eight countries find themselves transported to a strange new world. There, they are all contacted by an entity they dub, simply, Anonymous, instructing them to travel halfway across this new world to meet with him. The children follow the instructions in the hope that Anonymous can lead them home. Along the way, they try to solve the mystery surrounding their transportation and the newfound abilities each of them seems to have developed since landing on the Crimson Realm. But when a sinister figure announces himself as the children’s purpose on this world, there could be more to it all than any of them could have imagined.

Progress: Second draft complete; third and final draft commencing.

This novel (with its future sequels), without exaggeration, has been 25 years in progress. I developed the concept and the characters back when I was thirteen, and seeing it come closer and closer to fruition gives me life.

(All work related to The Crimson Realm are copyright O. Wilder and are timestamped to prove ownership. Do not repost.)

[owilder]

Happily forging ahead with the final draft; but, lately, I've also been getting the itch to write again.

[macrolit]

Marilyn Monroe’s apartment was full of books

[macrolit]

Happy 100th birthday to Marilyn Monroe.

[owilder]

May 2026 in Books

Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy:

This gripping memoir is a raw and uncensored chronicle of Grealy's battle against childhood cancer, from her diagnosis and surgical removal of part of her jaw, to chemo therapy and the many surgeries she underwent to rebuild her face. Poignant and oftentimes heartbreaking, Grealy spares no feelings and pulls no punches. She reflects on the pain of being branded "ugly" as a result of cancer treatments and surgery and how her experiences destroyed her self-image and corrupted her notions of self-worth. It is a powerful novel that I would recommend to anyone, particularly to those who place too much stock in their physical appearance and whose value they base on how society views of them.

The Real Osamu Dazai: A Life in Twenty Stories (translated by James O'Brien):

In this collection, O'Brien attempts to paint a more comprehensive portrait of Japanese author Osamu Dazai through a selection of twenty of Dazai's short stories. Since such stories as Memories and Eight Views of Tokyo are autobiographical, several are, therefore, quite informative and insightful. Other tales, including Currency and Waiting, possess the maudlin tone with which Dazai is most often associated. However, tales like Taking the Wen Away and Crackling Mountain are surprisingly humorous, showing a more comedic side both to Dazai and his works. This collection, as a whole, offers a broader perspective on Dazai than can be gleaned from the novels for which he's best known and is recommendable even to casual readers unfamiliar with his work.

[macrolit]

Giveaw@y: We’re giving away 12 vintage paperback classics! Won’t these look lovely on your shelf? =) Enter to win by: 1) following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblogging this post. We will choose a random winner on 31 May 2026. Good luck!

Follow our IG account to be eligible for our IG giveaw@ys. For full rules to all of our giveaw@ys, click here.

[macrolit]

We're choosing a random winner later today, so reblog now!

[owilder]

I really hate what a fucking slog AI has made conducting research through Google. AI Overview doesn't exactly help me if I have to factcheck its results because it's faulty as hell. Ergo, I don't even bother to read its results. So, I have to scroll past its lengthy nonsense to even start my search. Wish Google would do away with it, take it out back, Old Yeller style.

[owilder]

Garage sale haul. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks was in my Barnes and Noble "Save for Later" list, and I picked it up for ten dollars.

[owilder]

Be the goldfish, not its turd. Thank you, Osamu Dazai.

[macrolit]

Giveaw@y: We’re giving away a copy of the Gail Crowther's new work Marilyn and Her Books! Won’t this look lovely in your collection? =) Enter to win by: 1) following macrolit on Tumblr (yes, we will check. :P), and 2) reblogging this post. We will choose a random winner on 26 May 2026. Good luck! (You can also enter our giveaw@y for this book at macrolit.books IG.)

Follow our IG account to be eligible for our IG giveaw@ys. For full rules to all of our giveaw@ys, click here.

[owilder]

Creating unlikeable side characters for the express purpose of making the reader/audience hate them is far less effective when your main character is an insufferable twat.

[owilder]

April 2026 in Books (Reviews)

The Sonnets of William Shakespeare (Avenel 1980 edition):

For this National Poetry Month, I read all hundred and fifty-four of William Shakespeare's sonnets, as well as the poem A Lover's Complaint, which is intended to as a sort of afterward to the sonnets (though it is not included in the edition I read). The sonnets were fine, albeit rather repetitive, especially those centred on the Young Man. I still prefer Shakespeare's plays; however, I am glad I finally got around to reading these. Perhaps next April I shall foray into reading his full-length poems.

The Music of Bees by Eileen Garvin:

Beekeeper Alice Holtzman finds herself struggling with the grief and PTSD of losing her husband in a tragic accident. Hoping to expand her bee farm, she takes under her wing Jake Stevenson, a young paraplegic acclimating to the loss of his legs and discovering his proclivity for beekeeping, and Harry Stokes, a young parolee with terrible social anxiety and a long list of regrets. Together, they navigate the unexpected changes and challenges in their lives while protecting the bees from the impending threat of a new pesticide being pushed on local orchardists. The characters are charming; the themes of grief, loss, trauma, and recovery are well-explored throughout; and the disability representation is excellent. The novel is also quite informative about bees and beekeeping. The only criticism I have to offer is that the dialogue of the young men in this book, including and apart from the protagonists, tends to be awkward and unnatural, incorporating slang like "dude", "man", and "bro" far too often. It wasn't enough to diminish my enjoyment of the book, but it certainly had me rolling my eyes. Nonetheless, this book was a fantastic read, and I intend to read Crow Talk whenever the opportunity presents itself.

[owilder]

I love writing cozy little scenes like this in between the darker and heavier moments:

   “Feet off the furniture!” The tiny girl grabbed Cassie’s shoes by the laces and swung her feet over the side of the chair, dropping them to the floor amid the taller girl’s cries of protest. Unrepentant, Alanis headed towards the fireplace, moving the grill grate out of her way so she could get a fire going. Cassie stuck out her lip in an extraordinary pout, sticking her lip out further still when Lucanus dropped into the chair from which her Nikes had just been evicted with a smirk on his face. The other children all seated themselves on the cots—all, that is, except Dieter, who straight away stationed himself in front of the bothy book, reverently searching its pages for entries he could understand amidst the foreign symbols. Soon, there was a fire blazing in the fireplace, filling the bothy with a cozy orange glow and delicious warmth. For the better part of an hour, the children sat in silence, letting the heat of the fire soak into their skin and warm their bones.

From The Crimson Realm: A New World, Chapter the Third: The Bothy.

[bold-baddie]

[owilder]

This is why I wear sunnies everywhere. Can't confirm I'm not looking you in the eyes if you can't see mine. And I'm not.

[alinacapellabooks]

A VISCERA Snippet

I really should be working on Night Of The Justified Deaths, but I was inspired to write this exchange for one of my upcoming WIPs, VISCERA, so I feel like sharing that today. I felt like writing characters with controversial worldviews, and Ciara and Lillith are the most controversial characters in my arsenal so far. You’ll either love them, or hate them by the time you’ve read VISCERA:

Ciara glanced up from her tablet. “You’re home late.” 

“I had to deal with a hysterical family. They wouldn’t let me close their baby’s casket, and Plutarch had to step in,” Lillith responded, opening the mini fridge, “It took him an hour to convince them to let us seal the bloody thing.” 

She cracked open a can of Fanta. “I don’t get why people mourn babies.”

“Me neither,” Ciara responded, “Pass me a coke.”

Lillith opened the can before handing it to her. “I get why people mourn their dead children. Children have personalities. You get to know them, even if it’s not for very long,” she responded, “But babies don’t have personalities. There’s nothing about them to miss when they die.”

“Yeah. All babies do is scream, vomit, and shit, and then shit some more,” Ciara said coolly, “They’re nothing but objects of disgust.” 

“Granted, babies do those things because that’s all they’re capable of doing, but who could miss any of those things? Who misses changing shitty nappies, or being vomited on?” Lillith sighed. 

“Or being screamed at all night?”

“Exactly!”

Lillith sat cross-legged on the sofa. “That’s why Plutarch says I’m his best employee. After the other morticians embalm a baby, they usually have to take a break to cry, but I don’t. I wipe off the embalming table, and get to work on my next corpse,” she responded, “Everyone that gets put on my embalming table gets the same treatment. I don’t care who they were, or how old they were, or how they died, I get them ready for their funeral all the same.” 

[skyriderwednesday]

"Welcome, loyal reader" I am not a 'loyal reader', new york times, in fact I fucking despise you.

"Free limited access", a phrase here meaning "absolutely no fucking access to more than headlines if you refuse to give us your bank details".

[leona-florianova]

Lt. Columba and Dog

[owilder]

I've stumbled upon so much old, old material for The Crimson Realm. I could just crawl out of my skin with pride and embarrassment.