ocean capewell used to get in trouble for answering the phone rudely when she was in the middle of writing a story. her parents’ friends were horrified at the snarled, "what??!!", not knowing what they were interrupting, not knowing how hard it is to get started again when you’re interrupted in the midst of inspiration. now she has a cell phone but misses being so completely wrapped up in writing that nothing came before it. she is trying to get back to that pure place: seven years old & writing in notebooks until her hand was sore, going so fast, trying to get it all down. genuinely not giving a fuck.ocean capewell has been writing stories since 1987, poems since 1990 and zines since 1996. despite things getting thrown out, computers getting stolen, lovers complaining about their unfair portrayal, computers crashing, boneheaded critiques, wrists getting sore and life getting crazy, she has no intention of stopping.ocean capewell is working on her first book. she is done! with the first draft, anyway. after four years of on-again-off-again work. when she held it in her arms for the first time, all 207 pages/75,000 words, she almost cried, but instead she put it on the table and danced. ocean’s book is about overflowing dumpsters, stupid men, catastrophic illness, hot queer makeouts, and a compost pile gone horribly wrong. it’s about fighting for something real and making something out of nothing. it’s about solidarity, kale, girl love, and the families we create when our own leave us behind. and a whole lot more.ocean capewell was born in queens and raised on long island. she does not have a new york accent, but her father does. she lives & writes in pittsburgh, PA.