Read the stories. Feel the grit. Come as you are
New drops weekly from Adam Rye: queer country confessions, essays, community dispatches, and bold baritone verses.
This is where I write it like I lived it: loud, femme, country-soft, and fully uncloseted.
Writing about church trauma, queer joy, bad dates, chosen family, neurodivergent play, and the long road to being okay.
It is all real. It is all mine. And if you have ever felt like too much or not enough, maybe it is a little yours too.
Raw, healing, messy, and divine in the way I say so.
The House That Smelled Like Cat Piss: And Other Stains That Sunk Deep
An eight-page memoir zine confronting childhood neglect, unpredictable paternal anger, sensory overload, and the complicated work of unlearning survival habits.