Lighting Myself On Fire

Accidental self-immolation has been the least dramatic part of 2026 so far.

Image © 2026 Helen Nesburg

On some random mid-January weekday I lit myself on fire. A side effect of standing too close to the stove whilst cooking dinner and, if I’m being honest, probably doomscrolling.

The notable part of this story is not the flames, which shoot up the sleeves of a surprisingly synthetic knitted sweater (boo Everlane). Nor was it the part when I asked my husband if I was still on fire and he responded by dramatically putting out fire running down my back.

It was really the lack of concern that I registered for the whole flammable event. If Joan of Arc was a 10 on the death-by-flames drama scale, my nervous system clocked the experience at a 1. Maybe a 1.5, as I was throwing away the singed remains of a supposedly 100% organic cotton cropped green jumper.

January dripped with daycare illnesses, missed school days, the demands of a corporate contract, an endless onslaught of community terror, emails I can’t unread, and watching the best kinds of humans be murdered by our own government on social media.

When one spontaneously combusts under these types of conditions, it really can’t be much of a surprise.

Somewhere in that horror stew, I booked a professional review of my picture book pitch with a well-respected member of the illustration community. Guess what?! While my writing is solid (thankyouverymuch), the art is…not.

Too stiff, too forced, too digital. A little less Procreating, a little more gouache please. It’s cool; I’m pulling out my dusty art supplies. Back to traditional. Starting over. Again.

It’s fine, I’m fine.

All good here!

Did you see that Super Bowl commercial? The one that promises to solve the national crisis of lost pets for the low-low price of giving corporate America and the government unhindered surveillance of your neighbors. Hahahahahaha! It’s for the doggies! How fun and totally believable!

Oh my, my kids’ school has been defunded to the point that next year we will have 32 students in a mixed 1st/2nd grade class. Now I get to decide how to educate my wonderful, very ADHD child, who is brilliant when engaged and a deranged kangaroo when under and/or overstimulated. WHAT AN EXCITING CHALLENGE!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!

Anyway, thank God for Bad Bunny, the Olympics, and sweaters that aren’t made out of gasoline and tears.

Cheers as well for sticking around, I promise to be back to my normally scheduled hijinks soon. Substack continues to be a source of news and joy. Very important when finding myself embodying dumpster part of a dumpster fire.