Heather Tracy was a professional actor and singer for many years, and still keeps one toe dangling in murky thespian waters. These days, she sits in a cupboard and talks to herself for a living, narrating audiobooks. While her working life is camp and comedic, her ritual life tends towards the dark and transgressive. Improvisation, possession, trance, vocal histrionics, grief and breathwork feature heavily and inform her more serious writing endeavours. When not channelling strange voices, professionally or otherwise, she writes the occasional article, revue or short screenplay. She has created texts and artwork for WW Gallery and the Office of Experiments, and has two novels in development, both of them utterly miserable.