Mowgli: Vet Visit Sparks Existential Crisis. Launches “Justice for Paws” Campaign. Demands Apology in Treat Form. Sleeps Upside Down to Protest Gravity. Declares Tuesdays Emotionally Invalid.
Akela: Diagnosed With Ear Mites, Responds With Lawsuit. Threatens Legal Action Against Air. Delivers Monologue Entitled “Tragedy in Twelve Meows.” Refuses Drops, Accepts Pears. Begins Writing Memoir.
Poe: Screams Once, Silently. Then Denies It. Refuses Eye Contact With Vaccinated Objects. Claims Mowgli’s Pillow Occupancy Violates Treaty. Seen Meditating Near Rice Cooker. Aura Described as “Forked.”
This Week in Underland:
- Salt, Spite, and the Soft Apocalypse:
Salt in the Wound launched early (because time is fake). The world’s burning, but we made a book anyway. Call it glitter-fuelled resistance. - Gatekeepers, Glitches, and the Gospel of the Bot:
River won a challenge. Tech bros still can’t write. Writers still deserve better. - Queer Joy in the Middle of the Fire:
River is compeering for the Black Trans Coalition. We are proud. AF. - Spillwords, Spotlight, and Soft-Horror Stardom:
Celia interviewed. Featuring existential giggles, linguistic mischief, and a few soft jabs at literary elitism. Read it before she changes her mind.
This week in Underland has been fairly exciting. When the world is on fire, we do our best to make art, it’s what comforts us, and disturbs us, in the best possible way.
Because when everything feels like it’s unraveling, making something, anything, feels like defiance. A quiet refusal to be consumed.
Salt in the Wound was technically supposed to come out today, but in true Underland tradition, we got overexcited and hit publish a day early. Time is fake, and patience is a capitalist construct.
We’re stupidly proud of this thing. And honestly? A bit weepy. So many brilliant, unhinged, wildly talented people trusted us with their work—and we don’t take that lightly.
It’s a labour of love, rage, glitter, and spite. And we’re so here for it
Celia had an interview on Spillwords.com! It’s gorgeous, funny, and shines a light on my talented and kind wife.
Growing together is one of the best parts of marriage.
We are running into the most ridiculous people while trying to sell our stuff from the house. We’ve got a bunch of crap records that we’re selling as a job lot.
One guy said he was interested and came to our flat to pick through them to find “the one.”
First of all—Dude you messed us around all day. First it was “I’ll be there sometime after two,” then “I’ll be there in an hour,” and then three hours later he comes puffing down the street with a single bag and no car.
It’s well over one hundred records.
He was obviously trying to find one he could flip for more money. As if we weren’t smart enough to notice when he pulled one out and offered twenty quid like we’d just say, “Sure.” Nah—if it’s worth something to you, it’s worth something to us. Mansplain that.
We told him to fuck off (politely).
And he spoke to us like we were children. Little Ladies…
The cats are being very dramatic. We had to take them to the vet for their pre-flight health checks and vaccines.
Mowgli is walking around like we kicked him.
Akela has ear mites, so we’ve been treating that—which she is not happy about at all. Only Poe seems unaffected and only screamed a little bit, mostly out of peer pressure.
Overall, things are moving in a direction. We don’t know if it’s the right direction, but it is a direction.
We’re ready to be in Thailand.
Ready to decorate a home the way we want to.
Ready to be somewhere that isn’t so full of British people
(no offence—you’ve all been very welcoming, but you’re also exhausting).
I’ve enjoyed my time in the UK, but I think Asia is more our speed.
River x
A Nothing Week, Gone
And damn, it’s been a week.
We published Salt—early—because once a book is done, it’s done, right? We couldn’t just sit on it. Putting Salt together has been an amazing adventure for us—more so because we got to work with incredibly talented people who have a lot to say. It was awesome to see it come together and be part of something bigger than ourselves.
The highlight of the week? River won the Pride Under Pressure Challenge on Vocal.
Now, I’ll be honest: I think Vocal is kind of a crock. It pretends to be a platform for writers, but really it’s more of a content casino. Top Stories are handed out like raffle tickets—half the time it’s typo-filled listicles or SEO soup. We’ve landed many with no comments, no engagement, no fanfare. Just… timing. That’s the trick. They don’t like giving more than one in a month to the same person, and the algorithm rewards variety over actual substance. It has nothing to do with quality.
And let’s be clear—most of the time, Top Stories aren’t even chosen by a person. It’s a bot. Unless someone goes out of their way to nominate your piece through “Raise Your Voice,” you’re just being run through a machine that filters for structure, length, formatting, and maybe some keywords. It’s not editorial selection—it’s a sorting hat made from an HTML database.
The challenges? Slightly different, but not by much. A bot still does the first sweep, filtering hundreds of entries down to 20 based on whatever vague parameters they’ve set that day. From there, someone—presumably human—skims through the shortlist and picks a handful.
But again: who are these people? What gives them the right to decide what’s good or worthy? Are they published authors? Editors? Literary professionals? No. They’re tech guys. No writing background, no credentials in creative work, no real skin in the game.
They built a platform, gave themselves a sticker, and decided they were qualified to judge writers. It’s absurd. It’s also manipulative. Because what they’re really doing is playing on the insecurities of writers—dangling badges and cash prizes to make people feel validated… and keep them paying.
And people fall for it. Because we all want to feel seen. But on Vocal, no one’s really reading. The site isn’t built for readership—it’s built for churn. A hustle pot with a clunky interface, a predatory smile, and a cheeky wink disguised as ‘community’. That is absolutely not to say that the people who win don’t deserve it. There is alot of amazing talent on the site. It’s just that it all seems a bit arbitary and mercenary.
And yet—we’re still there. Because sometimes, weirdly, it works. We’ve met a few AMAZING people (kp, The two Carolines, Judey, Oneg, Cathy, Kenny Penn, KB Silver, Donna the Fox, Heather Hubler, MC..You get the picture). We enter the challenges because, frankly, $500 is a lot of money, and on Vocal, your odds are no worse than anyone else’s.
But this time, River’s story won. And this one matters. Not because of the badge, or the payout (Though that will go some way in helping towards the move NGL), or whatever algorithmic roulette wheel spun in our favour but because the piece they wrote is brave. It says something. It’s beautiful. And it exists now. That’s the real win.
The Vocal trophy means nothing.
But the story? That’s everything. To me, and to them.
In other non-news, the cats are being frankly ridiculous. A trip to the vet and Mowgli’s turned into the poster boy for an RSPCA Cat Abuse campaign. And Akela. Well, what to say? She’s Blanche—in a corset—giving Mrs Bennet vibes. Poor mite. I almost feel sorry for her. Poe is. Um. Poe.
On the plus side, some peeps stress eat. Not me. I stress cook. Today’s flurry in the kitchen: green chilli pesto. Even if I do say so myself—fucking revelation. Adding that to the repertoire. I mean technically not cooking, but blending counts, right? RIGHT?
Oh—and River is featuring tonight on Queer Vocal Voices in a fundraiser for the Black Trans Coalition. It’s an open mic and poetry slam extravaganza, and River is compeering. Damn, my heart is swelling. I am so proud of them for putting themselves out there. For being who they are.
Sometimes, late at night, I watch them sleeping and think about all the stuff they went through to get here. To the person they are. I wouldn’t have them any other way—but I do wish life had been a bit more gentle with the quiet soul of my wife.
But then again, maybe if it had, they wouldn’t have the empathy and beauty they do. Who knows.
Either way, I’m glad we’re here.
Growing.
Doing.
Hoping for the best.
Prepared for the worst.
Best,
C x
An Anthology of Justice, Equality, and Resistance.
If this resonated, share it on Bluesky (or anywhere folks still have an attention span longer than a moth after a sleepless night), leave us a comment, or check out our latest anthologies
Poetry Collection, ‘Is this all we get?’
Prose Collection, ‘ Fifth Avenue Pizza’
Discover more from River and Celia Underland
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
