Opening The Cicada Jar

flash fiction & some thoughts on writing intuitively

Welcome to Ruminations, a newsletter dedicated to sharing vulnerable musings on art, literature, and creative identity & home to Altars & Artists, a monthly interview series divining the poetry of artists’ spaces. Subscribe for monthly letters, or consider a paid subscription to unlock the FULL archive of poetry, audio & visual content, exclusive updates, community conversations, and the extended cut of Altars & Artists.

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I lift one to my ear with a crunch.

I would awaken to their tymballic chorusing. That electric, hive-like hum. After seven years of sipping sweet eucalyptus sap, the forest would erupt with that tk tk tk tk tk of insect song. Little wings would vibrate past my earlobes, and sticky feet would cling to my tent to malt—to emerge once more from the dark. I’d collect exuviae like beach shells and hold them to my ear. Let the wind blow through their hollow, cracked backs.

The old chitin ghost crumbles between my fingertips. Shivers into dust.

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Opening The Cicada Jar was longlisted in Love To Read Local’s Fictional Flashbacks competition (my first longlisting!) earlier this year. Before studying creative writing, I wrote poetry almost exclusively, but now? Now short fiction is the coy mistress I lie with when the poets turn their backs. And I love her dearly. (And you’d better keep our secret).

You can read the other shortlisted entries on

Writing WA

’s Literary Map of Western Australia <3

In a week, the next Altars & Artists interview will find its way into your mailboxes. Sending mail on Sundays feels like excitedly updating an old friend at the end of a long and luscious trip. It brings me comfort. I’ve missed our correspondences—brimming with my softer, and more convoluted musings—and I’ll be returning with them soon. And bearing good news!

I’ve discovered that as much as it may help Rumination’s growth (growth being a noble feat, though not chief), I am not one for written lists, reviews, recommendations, and the like. At least, not consistently. I love reading letters of that nature from others, but writing them doesn’t come naturally to me. I’ve felt an increasing pressure to turn to them to prove myself “active enough” on Substack (another topic, another time), but the reality is that my writing is more like a slow burn; laborious, focused, tediously coaxed into a flame.

I’m a storyteller and an overthinker. I write for the slow readers and the even slower writers, and above all, for the insatiably curious. So, after a busy few months, I’m trying to find my voice again—only this time, more intuitively.

TLDR; thank you for sticking by when the flame has burned low.

Catch you on a Sunday sometime,

Caitlin x

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In case you missed it…