I’m Jessy. I grew up in the Mojave Desert in a meth lab on the edge of nowhere and writing saved my life.

I write like I’m sending words into a black hole—as if no one will ever read them. Then I share them here. It’s not always pretty, but it’s always real.

My writing has appeared in a range of publications, including Marrow Magazine, where my essay was in their top 10 most-read pieces of 2024. In 2022, my story The Things We Leave Out was nominated for both the Pushcart Prize and inclusion in The Best of the Net Anthology. My work has also been featured in Good River Review, Beacon Quarterly, Rappahannock Review, and most recently, New World Writing Quarterly. When I’m not working on my novel you can find me rocking out to music with my toddler, making art with my partner, kissing the noses of our two black dogs, or fantasizing about Timothée Chalamet.

What is AFTER/WORDS?

It’s where the healing and the unraveling happen—the messy, transformative moments that linger in the aftermath of grief and peace, love and fear, grasping and surrender, creation and chaos. It’s about processing life through writing— sitting with emotions, asking hard questions, and uncovering truths about ourselves in the echoes of everything that shapes us.

AFTER/WORDS is where I share essays and stories that explore:

• Learning to love and build a family despite a childhood that taught me love was unsafe.

• Grappling with my inner critic while balancing a life devoted to both art and motherhood.

• Navigating the chaos and pain of loving someone who battles addiction.

• Examining the raw, often unglamorous realities of the writer-mother paradox.

• Wrestling with the uncomfortable truths of the human experience—truths we all face but rarely talk about.

For the price of a (good) cup of coffee paid subscribers get:

• The only place you can read (and listen to) my memoir, The One Who Leaves, with new chapters published weekly (beginning March 6, 2025)

• Post comments and join the community for discussions

• Archives of every newsletter I wrote for the last four years

• Periodic Q&A’s, virtual immersive journaling sessions, deep dives into writing as both a craft and a healing modality, and more

• Endless gratitude and the deep inner knowing that you’re supporting a writer-mother going after her dreams

What my memoir is about:

At thirty, I was pulled back to the shit-hole town off Route 66 in the dust of California that I’d spent my life trying to escape because Mom was facing felony charges—again. I get her out of the Mojave for a weekend and away from her drug-fueled lifestyle so that I can explore our shared past in search of truth. On the road, the narrative of Mom's life unfolds throughout the pages like a labyrinth: tales of home invasion well into the hundreds, her imprisonment with cellmate Susan Atkins from the Manson Cult, the meth lab Dad built in the garage of our sun-bleached house, the cast of homeless addicts I was raised around, and her role in the dissolution of our family.

These two narratives braid together, exposing the story of my life, but also my mother’s life. Of her unwavering love for me and her struggle to stay clean long enough to show it. Of my fight to understand her and accept the love she had for me all along, so that I could finally start a life of my own. THE ONE WHO LEAVES is an unflinching exploration of the profound bonds that tie us to family and the impact of addiction, delving into the power of redemption and who we become due to, and in spite of, our mother’s love.

This isn’t just a newsletter. It’s a living, breathing space for connection—a place to process life through writing so we can better understand ourselves, our past, and the questions that guide us forward. I hope you find something here that resonates with you.

Here’s to us growing, noticing, being. Here’s to us in the AFTER/WORDS.

Why subscribe?

Most of this newsletter is free. Sometimes, when the writing feels too tender or vulnerable, I’ll share it behind a paywall for $5/month.

Writing is hard. And as a mother, I’ve found it even harder—there’s so little space, time, and energy. Yet, I’m a better mother when I write. So I keep showing up here, for myself and for my son, to show him that doing what you love is important. Doing what you love is never a waste of time. This is a space where I can pour my yearning, my grief, my rage, and all the parts of me that still ache. A space where healing and unraveling happen side by side. A space that feels safe. And it’s a space where I invite you to join me as I process all the messy, uncomfortable truths that come with fully living this one wild and precious life that is both beautiful and brutal.

Every subscriber holds a special place in my heart, and I hope you’ll support this space in whatever way feels right for you. Whether you’re here for the essays, memoir chapters, or reflections on motherhood and art, my greatest hope is that you leave feeling a little less alone. Thank you for being here.

Tell your friends, and share with someone who might need it.

You can also find me on Instagram and my website.