A. Bastedo is Someone’s Dad
LightNews LightNews
banner
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
A. Bastedo is Someone’s Dad
@abastedo-writing.bsky.social
1.9K followers 1.7K following 1K posts
(he/him) * Published writer of the weird, dark, and lovely * human services utility man* MFA Arcadia University * Ghoul of Upstate Connecticut * High Church Lutheran (RIC) * Totally Not a Furry * Married to a badass ER resident * Brand New Dad
Posts Replies Media Videos
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Finally stumbling back into social media after a much needed break!

To start on a happy note, little boy and his guardian kitty were both absolutely captivated by this toy train video this morning ❤️

#caturday
A black cat sits staring at a winter train layout displayed on an old black television
November 22, 2025 at 8:15 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Is the knit blanket machine washable?
A cheap hotel room splattered in blood, smelling too much of iron and fear to notice the mildew
October 26, 2025 at 5:05 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Yet another cornerstone in the Cyber-Tracker-starring-Don-the-Dragon-Wilson-was-a-documentary-from-the-future theory slides into place
A very blue robot floats in a very blue void near a very annoyed looking Don “the dragon” Wilson
October 23, 2025 at 1:16 AM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Live from Bastedo’s hospital room
Lois Griffin of Family Guy fame holds large son Chris Griffin, also of family guy fame in a faux black and white newspaper photo. She looks worn and beat while the child is comically large.
October 23, 2025 at 1:02 AM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Coziness prime

#catsofbluesky #cats
Prime coziness: a black cat, almost chocolate covered in the rays of sun, curls up in a sunbeam divided up into narrow bands by the blinds, his head rolled to the side, green eyes brilliant.
October 16, 2025 at 4:51 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
The paw that rocks the cradle

#catsofbluesky
A little black cat curled up in a cat bed beneath a cradle
October 15, 2025 at 1:13 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
I shall enjoy the fall breeze by sunning my booty
#catsofbluesky
A black tomcat stands on a window sill Facing the camera, enjoying the fall weather The same cat. Still small and black suns his booty on the same window sill, balancing on a radiator
October 8, 2025 at 9:20 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Lazy days for stinky

#catsofbluesky #cat
A little black tomcat flumps atop a couch, snugged up on a thin green blanket The same black tomcat lays half curled on a blue and white striped duvet where he is not allowed to lay, but he does not care The same silly boy sprawls belly up on the couch, looking expectantly towards me
October 7, 2025 at 3:49 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Hey #WIPSnips! Will we take a riverbed?

#writingcommunity
Rutted roads, naked without their salty winter skin, wind up out of the long narrow edges of the valley. The low, steady thrum of the v8 plays over the radio playing songs that should have disappeared forty years ago, but somehow have kept holding on. Somehow she knows the words, but doesn’t sing along. The lateness of the night is a voice now, thrumming deeply and slowly up through the rocks, through the rubber, and up into the slowly rusting steel of the government’s chevy’s chassis, humming and chanting the language of a people older than man. It comes up sometimes, overwhelming the newer music, covering it over like a riverbed rising to swallow the bank, to consume it and replant it. It is the Nile, it is the lost temples of the desert and the headwaters way down in a deeper time, bursting forth for the rock for a moment in June, an eternal mayfly in the quiet and shared subconscious of the fabric of a summer’s night.
October 1, 2025 at 2:25 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Somebody is having an immensely photogenic morning

#caturday #catsofbluesky
A cat reflected in the window on a wall, below a wedding picture starring my wife and I. A cat reflected in the window on a wall, below a wedding picture starring my wife and I except now in profile! A coco brown cat lies in the window, staring upwards, chin open for scritchies The same coco brown cat continues lying in the window, now distracted by the actions of the peasants far below
September 27, 2025 at 2:16 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Using only images, explain how you became a furry.

I was doomed. I only got more doomed as the books started pushing me into writing.
Robin Hood and Maid Marion amongst the fireflies and fens during the classic love theme creatively titled “Love” The cover of Redwall by Brian Jacques I remember. A jolly Mathias mouse is set inlaid against the red abbey wall above a teeming horde of rats baring weapons and a crow skull on a cross Warriors by Erin Hunter (who is actually at least two people, the sneak) A blue tabby and a tortie hiss at the each other in long grass while an orange boy (extra brain cells not included stays central in a golden frame) Jenna and Balto (a red husky and a wolf dog respectively) are reflected in the light of a golden window. Diphtheria.
September 27, 2025 at 1:44 AM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
It is a soggy fall morning. Writer’s block is devouring my free time. My coffee is cold. Work is an ass pain.

Observe my cat being a silly butt
#catsofbluesky
September 24, 2025 at 1:31 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
OT reading for today not pulling any punches.
“Hear this, you who trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land, saying, “When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain, and the Sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for sale? We will make the ephah smaller and the shekel heavier and practice deceit with false balances, buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals and selling the sweepings of the wheat.” The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob: Surely I will never forget any of their deeds.” ‭‭Amos‬ ‭8‬:‭4‬-‭7‬ ‭NRSVUE‬‬ https://bible.com/bible/3523/amo.8.4-7.NRSVUE
September 21, 2025 at 5:41 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Two in a row now, counting backyards of course.
Church on Sundays and backyard baseball. His hands still quivering, slide down onto the car door, nails digging into the fabric liner. He feels the rhythm of the broken road, hears the sound of warm tires on cold pavement, and smells the fast food hashbrowns hitting the fryers on a few too many street corners in row. The blue is finally braving its final, bashful, but inevitable, creep down into the valley, and the sidewalks turn into bright ribbons, tying up the lost souls who wander them at this hour, going somewhere and getting nowhere: the pretenders, the feeders, and the breeders. He’s one. But there’s still something for her. There’s more and this is the earth it's grown in, salted and hated, but it grew here once and it will always find a way back. Rock me on the water, maybe I'll remember Maybe he’ll remember what it was like to grow. He opens the glove box and pulls on the wrist computer. He turns the dial to the conversation he’s been reading every night and highlights the call command. It rings.
September 19, 2025 at 12:24 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Who wants eldritch government office buildings?

We all do.

We scream for them.

#SFFChat
The printer finishes. The wall sloshes. Blair feeds in her stack and exits the room into one of the identical, labyrinthine hallways. They are built like church windows, that open further into gray church windows, meant to let light into the maze, but the light never pours in. Instead it runs on timers, timers that never seem to follow the same set of rules as one another, shutting on and off as they desire, on the whims of the gurgling machine that uses the building as its shell. It lingers in her head that she is a pathogen, something small and dirty creeping through the veins of a monolithic beast. A virus that desperately needs to inject itself in, release chaos and decay, bring down the whole wretched animal, yet not alive, or thinking, driven only by the existential need to inflict damage: viral load. Her office is small, and built into the outer wall, with a sharply sloping back wall, but no window. Of course there wouldn’t be a window. The skin of the great beast covers it all, and no one dares hunt it. No one dares to blow a shotgun shell through its gray hide.
September 18, 2025 at 11:16 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
I actually have one for today!

#WIPsnips #writingcommunity
💙📚🪐
A long hall, slathered in the same ambient red light, beckons her further, sloping down through the impossibly ancient rock and its static gloom seem to buckle slightly under the pressure. She follows the dark hallways, the heat building. The main hallway she follows is a long, emergency-lit blood vessel, flowing between various numbered tile waiting rooms, smaller reflections of those above stand by like ghosts, with drop cloths covering forgotten chairs and plastic plants. The motion lights flick on as she hustles past, flicking off behind her as she passes. She hates the waiting rooms, they reek of water-rotten grout, but the hallways are worse. Sagging propaganda and internal informational posters hang soggily from the outer wall, watching with wet paper eyes. The inner wall radiates heat that can be felt up through your shoes. After an open airlock bulwark, the hallway turns into an enclosed catwalk, surrounded by safety glass panels.
September 18, 2025 at 1:22 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
No new pictures, where are you at mentally?
A tiny kitten stares disconsolately ahead with the text I do not think, therefore I do not am
September 18, 2025 at 1:11 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
I saw this the other day coming out of work, and this is it folks. This is what we do as artists now.
#writesky
In blue chalk on a dirty gray sidewalk someone with better handwriting than me has written the message: Be Brave Fight for Humanity
September 16, 2025 at 12:34 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
14: Mood! Finally all caught up.

#SFFChat 💙📚🪐
#FurryWriting
Pat wears a path into the floor, pacing between the empty service desk, looping the Mustang, cutting between the two plastic dracaenas, and pausing every second or third circuit on the black welcome mat before resuming. Night is long since fallen. It huddles tight down against the windows and walls, heavy and porous with humidity. Diffuse and enveloping, the air sweats with the exterior lights of the dealership, the silent and deserted traffic lights, and, a ways off, the lights of the city further up the valley, Neither of them has spoken for a while, and elevator music softly drones on the crackling PA system. Slumped on the stairs, Jake watches him pace with tired acceptance, barely able to keep himself upright, constantly lolling against the bannister, dress shirt long since thrown aside, slick and drowning in the ever-present heat. The smell of cleaning solution and leather polish has grown from noticeable to oppressive through the hours, and Jake openly begins to pant.
September 14, 2025 at 11:11 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
12! (Almost caught up) While not my most vivid descriptive experience, I was proud of the environmental storytelling in this passage that highlights the anachronistic and nature of the world while alluding to its barely hidden dark side.

#SFFChat 💙📚🪐 #writingcommunity
Her office is at least better, as she brings them in. There is an air filter running in the corner, she must have noticed too. Of course she would have to, from the looks of it she lives here, or at least tries to. Three-quarter full takeout containers fill the trashcan, of the otherwise pristine room. A heavy darkwood desk, complete with a green blotter that no one’s used in decades greets them. In the wall, the big computer hooked into the hospital’s arterial connection to–that thing below that they called a computer–whispers and murmurs in the binary song of liquid crystal displays. One wall is mirrored, reflecting a modest collection of bonsai and small modern sculpture. The other wall offers a view in for the moon, still too large, too close, watching, carefully, bulging out of the firmament. She crosses to the desk, and indicates them to sit in on the low, black-leather couches that flank the desk at obtuse angles. “Thank you for giving me time to a quick sweep. The hospital has cameras in every waiting room, just not in here yet. Yet.”
September 14, 2025 at 4:34 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
… The worst we can find (duh duh duh)
Dr Clayton Forrester and TV’s Frank
September 12, 2025 at 10:36 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
Here’s a handsome cat in this trying (?) time to improve your night

#catsofbluesky
It’s a cat. Black. Green eyes. Dignified. He knows he’s a star. He knows that you admire him. He knows that you are preparing to wire him large amounts of foreign currency.
September 11, 2025 at 2:21 AM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
7! I’m catching back up!

You asked for drama. Here’s drama. We bring you now to a clapped out Subaru station wagon outside a turnpike rest stop, far from the neon-sci-fi glow.

#SFFChat #writingcommunity 💙📚🪐
“At least I’m trying,” he shouts back. “Then try something else.” Her body shakes with barely contained anger. “Then try something fucking else because I am not putting myself through this again. I am not putting her through this again. I am not holding you up because you keep forgetting how the fuck to swim.” “Do you have any idea what I’ve had to go through?” “Do I? Do you?” She screams, her eyes wide and staring like a frightened horse. “Do you know? Do we need to run this shit-bog of a day back for broadcast?” Shivering with anger, she turns to him, icy with winter. “You know what neighborhood we’re living in? Do you know how many nights I had to work, how many classes I had to take, how many shit-corpo interviews I had to practice on my own while our daughter was raised by a dying man?”
September 9, 2025 at 4:17 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
I share with you a pair of my free stories + bonus picture of my weird cat:

Cosmic horror cats:
www.darkharbormagazine.com/stories/daug...

Gothic Horror:
witchhousemag.blogspot.com?m=1 (#4, pg6)

Please share in my journey to pop out a second novel before my wife pops out a first baby!
#SFFChat
A little black cat pokes his head out from Under a gray cable-knit blanket with an inquisitive expression ❤️
September 4, 2025 at 11:30 PM
abastedo-writing.bsky.social
I dream a lot about the art of Rodney Matthew’s. The cover of Asia’s Aqua album has been on repeat in my head since I was 17 years old and first started writing. It definitely influenced my descriptions/ideas of space, and also how weird I let myself be in my writing.

#SFFChat
Aqua by Rodney Matthews: Black and white dolphins with bat wings swoop around a giant space station that resembles a whale, with various kinds of equipment handing off it. In the blue ocean-like void of space two ringed planets spin.
September 4, 2025 at 10:29 PM