Erin Leiserson
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erinleiserson.bsky.social
Erin Leiserson
@erinleiserson.bsky.social
370 followers 160 following 1K posts
Tuesdays are for tacos. She/her. Married to ‪@willtor.bsky.social‬.
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erinleiserson.bsky.social
Really cool shot of Bastille Day parade. "Mom, can we have a parade?" "No, we have a parade at home." The parade we have at home: Trump's empty sidewalks.
June 15, 2025 at 6:11 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Bastille Day parade (looking cool) with "Mom, can we have a parade? - No, we have a parade at home." The parade we have at home: Trump's sparsely-attended parade.
June 15, 2025 at 4:57 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Over a photo of a Bastille Day Parade: "Mom, can I have a parade? -No, we have a parade at home." Over a photo of Trump's sparsely attended birthday -- excuse me, army -- parade: "The parade we have at home."
June 15, 2025 at 4:07 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Over a photo of a Bastille Day Parade: "Mom, can I have a parade? -No, we have a parade at home." Over a photo of Trump's sparsely attended birthday -- excuse me, army -- parade: "The parade we have at home."
June 15, 2025 at 4:00 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Over a photo of a Bastille Day Parade: "Mom, can I have a parade? -No, we have a parade at home." Over a photo of Trump's sparsely attended birthday -- excuse me, army -- parade: "The parade we have at home."
June 15, 2025 at 3:10 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Of course, I grew up in a place that looks like this. So that may be part of why your photos feel like home.
Rainforest in Washington State, USA. USDA photo by David Kosling.
June 10, 2025 at 4:07 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
#housing #poverty #compassion #LandlordClass
Boardroom meme. Leader: Rental assistance for the poors! Give me policies! First person: Work requirements! Second person: Time limits! Third person: Rent control? Leader is livid and rent-control guy is propelled out the window.
June 7, 2025 at 1:43 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Amateur sleuth and reluctant psychic Miranda attends her uncle's church in an effort to find calm and clarity. From my cozy mystery "What You Will."

#WIPSnips #Writing #AmEditing #Mystery #CozyMystery #WritingCommunity #church #religion
There was a reading from Ezekiel, when God gives the prophet a vision about the bones of long-dead warriors gaining flesh and new life. Incredible, implausible, but who was I to question someone else’s vision? I’d had some doozies of my own. Not that I was a prophet. It took more than visions to be a prophet, right? I thought about those bones becoming people again. Did that army go right back to fighting and killing? Or did the experience change those soldiers fundamentally? If Geoffrey McConnell came back to life, would he still be arrogant and narrow-minded, or would he be more understanding and compassionate?
May 21, 2025 at 1:02 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
There is an anti-trans fundraiser being held right now at Glass House restaurant in Cambridge, MA. Here are some attendees. I'm not going to blur the faces of people who pay big money for hatred.

#Boston #MA #Trans #Solidarity #protest
Attendees at the anti-trans fundraising event currently being held at Glass House restaurant in Cambridge, MA. Attendees at the anti-trans fundraising event currently being held at Glass House restaurant in Cambridge, MA. Attendees at the anti-trans fundraising event currently being held at Glass House restaurant in Cambridge, MA. Attendees at the anti-trans fundraising event currently being held at Glass House restaurant in Cambridge, MA.
May 18, 2025 at 9:57 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Dog peeking out from a hole in a wall says "For the love of God, Montresor!" A cat on the other side of the wall: "Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
May 18, 2025 at 11:51 AM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Substituted a particular college name for #WIPSnips today.

From the opening scene of my cozy mystery "What You Will." Miranda has returned to her home town after 9 years away, following the death of her mother. She tries to avoid her psychic visions, but this one surprises her.

#Writing #AmEditing
Stuffing in another pretzel, I turned to the array of drinkware I’d laid out on the counter. My arm bumped the “Harvard Mom” mug into the sink, taking a big chip out of the rim. Before I could remember to put on a glove, I reflexively reached down to take it with my bare fingers. I released it quickly, but the memory was too strong. My eyesight grayed out. The room spun slightly. The smell of mint wafted from the mug. “Going off to Harvard is just the beginning…” Tea. Mom’s mint tea. Her fingers, teasing the string, made the bag bob up and down. “Don’t waste your opportunity…” Now her eyes, scrutinizing me for flaws. “…impress the right people… your chance for a clean slate…” A small slurping sound. She was sipping hot tea from her new mug. “No one knows you,” she said with a smile.
May 9, 2025 at 2:45 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
My amateur sleuth is a #Shakespeare buff. Feste is the fool in Twelfth Night, the play she directs and whose cast is under suspicion.

#WIPSnips #CozyMystery #CosyMystery #Writing #CrimeFiction #AmEditing #quotes
“Revenge is a dish best served cold.” Not Shakespeare, but a good quote anyway. If I was going to stick with the Bard, it would have to be Feste’s “the whirligig of time brings in his revenges.” Same difference, but I had to admit the first one was more punchy. Either way, time had whirled along — or gone cold — since [redacted] had wronged [redacted]. But could one ever fully move past something like that?
May 5, 2025 at 5:12 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Contrast this one with my previous post.

#Writing #WritingCommunity
Results from zerogpt saying "Your Text is Human written," with 0% suspect text.
May 4, 2025 at 2:51 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
I'm going to start checking this for everyone trying to peddle their writing advice to me. I need to know if I can trust them to help me develop my craft.

#Writing #WritingCommunity #Writesky #Writersky
Results from zeroGPT: "Most of Your Text is AI/GPT Generated" with 60.06% of content considered suspect.
May 4, 2025 at 2:42 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Inspired by this thread, I ran the first chunk of my rewrite through www.zerogpt.com. I'm proud to announce that I am human.

#Writing
A screenshot stating "Your Text is Human written" with a graphic showing "4.8% AI GP" which I gather means that less than 5% of my writing sounds like potential AI. I'll take it. There are only so many non-pretentious ways to say that someone's phone buzzed in their pocket or they ate a pretzel from a bag, after all.
May 3, 2025 at 5:51 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
Would you keep reading?

(New opening scene for my WIP, "What You Will")

#Mystery #CozyMystery #Writing #Booksky #Books #AmWriting #AmEditing #WritingCommunity #CrimeFiction #WriterChat #CrimeWriterChat
I leaned against the kitchen counter, considering the half-full box on the table. Removing one of my gloves, I grabbed a pretzel from the open bag and shoved it in my mouth. “Giant Twists,” said the label. I’d packed some low-hanging fruit already: Mom’s vintage poinsettia dishes that she always insisted on using every Christmas. Yes, of course they’re beautiful, I’d agree with her, inwardly cringing. And of course they were beautiful, to the eye. But she never let me wear my gloves at Christmas dinner, and a single slip could turn my holiday miserable. I’d be glad to see these dishes go somewhere I could never touch them again. I preferred to eat off plates that came fresh from the factory. The shorter their history, the better. The carving knife and matching steak knives could go, for sure. I chuckled at the thought of using the showy set to carve a giant brick of tofu. I used my gloved hand to lower the knives into the box. The cupboards were still packed with every dish and kitchen gadget imaginable, most with indeterminate fates. The huge mixer with all the attachments would be great to keep, but it would take up too much storage space if I moved into a cramped Boston apartment again. I’d keep it for now. Sometime in the next couple months, maybe Jeremy would come over and we could bake like we were teenagers again. If I could tear him away from Gabe for that long. Working at their farm was a good choice. Not only would I be spending more time with Jeremy, but I’d be helping him launch his passion project and doing something worthwhile. Between that and the play, I had plenty to occupy my attention until I… did whatever came next. I wouldn’t think about that right now. Stuffing down another pretzel, I turned to the array of drinkware I’d laid out on the counter. My arm bumped the “Harvard Mom” mug into the sink, taking a big chip out of the rim. Before I could remember to put on a glove, I reflexively reached down to take it with my bare fingers. I released it quickly, but the memory was too strong. My eyesight grayed out. The room spun slightly. The smell of mint wafted from the mug. “Going off to Harvard is just the beginning…” Tea. Mom’s mint tea. Her fingers, teasing the string, made the bag bob up and down. “Don’t waste your opportunity…” Now her eyes, scrutinizing me for flaws. “…impress the right people… your chance for a clean slate…” A small slurping sound. She was sipping hot tea from her new mug. “No one knows you,” she said with a smile. As the vision faded, I sank to the floor, still smelling mint. The headache began, drilling into my temples from both sides. The pretzels sat uneasily in my stomach. I was thirsty, but my body was too heavy to get up for water. I lost track of time in the exhaustion and pain. Eventually, my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out from my pocket to see a text from Jeremy. Sorry. Can’t pick you up for rehearsal. Gabe’s truck broke down and he needs me to pick him up in Sullivan. We’ll be a few minutes late. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Fighting the residual dizziness, I pushed myself up, pulled my second glove back on, and drank a large glass of water. Five more minutes, and then I’d be safe to drive.
April 30, 2025 at 5:00 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
A second #WIPsnips post today. Looks like I use the word "indeed" a lot!

From my #CozyMystery "What You Will." Mrs. Hopkins, the elderly neighbor, has experienced a sharp decline in memory, but her pleasant disposition (and desire to make matches) hasn't lessened.

#Writing #Writersky
“Hello, Mrs. Hopkins. Hi, Nicole.” While Mrs. Hopkins served herself, Nicole spoke quietly to me. “It sounds kind of grisly to say it, but I thought it might be fun for her to come today. I don’t think she realizes what’s going on, but it’s a nice outing for her, all things considered.” Indeed, Mrs. Hopkins seemed in very good cheer for someone attending a murder victim’s memorial reception. She brought back a plate with a tiny triangle of cucumber sandwich and a few grapes, chattering happily about the lovely spread. I saw David a little way away and waved him over. I was sure Mrs. Hopkins would adore him, and I was right. “What a handsome young man!” she exclaimed. Then, much to my chagrin, she told me in a very loud whisper, “This one’s a catch. Don’t let him get away!” David smirked and pretended not to hear. “Actually…”
April 27, 2025 at 1:21 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
From my cozy mystery, "What You Will," in which characters are putting on Shakespeare's Twelfth Night.

#WIPsnips #Writing #CozyMystery #Shakespeare #AmEditing #Writersky #WritingCommunity
Bill rummaged in his bag. “Here it is.” He pulled out a false beard and handed it over. “Joanna’s going to look great in this,” I said. At one point in the play, Feste puts on a false beard to disguise himself. This bushy red tangle would be just perfect. “What were you that Halloween, anyway?” He was packing up his bag for the day. The rest of the crew seemed to be doing the same. “I was trying for a dwarf, like from Lord of the Rings,” he said, “but the result was more ‘leprechaun with an ax.’” I laughed. With his features, all it would take was a green suit and he could sell magically delicious breakfast cereal. “I can picture that,” I said. I perused the open toolbox next to me. It had little bits of interesting hardware in the top tray. “So what’s the deal with your play, anyway?” asked Bill. “How many of you are pretending to be someone else? Joanna puts that thing on to be a priest, you pretend to be a man, Jeremy pretends to be you…” He finished packing up and sat next to me. “To be fair,” I said, “Jeremy isn’t pretending to be me. He just gets mistaken for me without realizing it.” “You have to admit, it’s confusing,” said Bill. Confusing indeed. Like the jumble in the toolbox, I was having a hard time telling what anything was. There was a tiny doorknob that might equally have been a drawer pull or open the entrance to a fairy house. There was a strangely shaped hook whose purpose completely eluded me. I picked up a small, old key and turned it over in my hands before putting it back. “The confusion is where the humor comes in,” I said at last. “Mistaken identity, mistaken gender, it all gets hopelessly tangled up before it’s all resolved in the end.” “I’m looking forward to the performance, to see all this humor in action.” The secret identity factor did make the play hilarious. But all of Shakespeare’s comic themes had a darker counterpart. People pretend to be something they’re not, like [spoiler redacted]. [alt text continued in next post]
April 27, 2025 at 1:09 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
My WIP has no wolves in it, so please accept my "dog" for #WIPSnips. This is from my #CozyMystery, "What You Will."

#writing #writingcommunity #WriterSky #Mystery
“Come on, Feste,” I called from the front door. He trotted up, ready for his playdate. I wasn’t sure if he thought he was a goat or if he thought Butternut and Merlin were dogs. Either way, he was excited. But when I opened the door, I grabbed his collar and held him back. On my front step was a small, tidy pyramid made of bullets. Apparently, there was at least one person out there who thought more of my sleuthing ability than I did. And they weren’t happy about it.
April 25, 2025 at 4:42 PM
erinleiserson.bsky.social
From my cozy mystery novel, "What You Will."

#WIPSnips #AmWriting #AmEditing #Writing #WritingCommunity #Mystery
“Was the bathroom hard to find?” Bradley stood in the doorway. He paced into the room, eyes on mine, and then looked down to where my hand rested on his phone. Belatedly, I removed it. “Is there something you were looking for, Miranda?” He had the look of a leashed animal. An angry animal with a weak leash. “No, I just…” He had shed the disguise of the courteous bereaved nephew. He moved toward me like a predator. I’d never noticed how very tall he was. I took a step back. “I’m sorry…” I said, unsure of what more I could say. Bradley picked up his phone, glanced at it, and placed it in his pocket. “I’m not accustomed to letting people snoop around my house.” “It won’t be your house for long, will it?” My voice was bold, but inside I was a mouse. “You should mind your own business.” I stood frozen in his gaze, aware of every breath I took.
April 21, 2025 at 3:21 PM