A Shake-Up

Which is always needed in February, amiright

Hello Readers and Writers,

It’s February! Are you barely hanging on? Me too. Kinda. It depends on the day.

I confess— I missed the last several stories of January. I felt their weight pressing on me as I navigated two writing deadlines unrelated to this newsletter. I wanted to read all of them, but was also absorbed in doing research for the introduction to my book, so I could fact check everything I was claiming. I turned that introduction in yesterday, along with a blog post for a conservation agency.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t reading. I was. I am obsessed with “Hamnet” right now, about two thirds of the way through the book, and it’s been my evening reading. I stayed up too late last night, engrossed in the story of Shakespeare’s son, his wife, and the pestilence. Is it all told in the present tense? I asked myself that last night and will have to flip back to the beginning and look over it to find out. I think it is.

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Everyone who knows me knows I am an ambitious person. An idea factory. So many ideas I have to write them down and save them for later. Then those ideas press in on me and I feel pressure to get through other ideas so I can make it to more ideas. I’m grateful for this. I don’t have to search for inspiration. But I also put an immense amount of pressure on myself. I’ve always felt that it was essential for me to create things— without creating things I have no purpose here.

In studying meditation and Buddhism, I know that isn’t true, but also, it’s true. It’s true for me. It’s part of why I exist.

For the past few days I’ve asked myself: is it realistic to read a story every single day? Am I putting too much pressure on myself?

Am I putting too much pressure on myself?

This question is one I’ve asked myself many times before and its answer has always been “no,” but things are different now that I have an autoimmune disorder. The pressure I used to exist with and the ways I would manage it, like getting up at 5am (or even 430), drinking excessive amounts of coffee, not sleeping enough, eating too much or not enough— I can’t do those things anymore. I feel it in my body.

And I feel, right now, that I am even trying to explain away why I haven’t read those last stories of the month, because I feel guilty for not having done so. As if neglecting to read the stories makes me a bad person, or a bad writer, or a bad whatever.

Those feelings? All the things that are wrapped up in those “bad” things I can be?

They’re old.

They’re from the past.

I don’t need to justify my not having read the stories. My urge to do so only demonstrates how massively our culture has conflated productivity with personal value. Not productive? You’re not a good person.

I am so grateful to recognize this in myself.

The funny thing is, if I kept pressuring myself to read those stories, or feeling bad for not having done so, I would probably drop this project altogether.

Instead, I’m reassessing what’s achievable and sustainable for me. I’m taking care of myself, which for me isn’t intuitive (obviously).

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Maybe I will catch up on those stories I missed. Maybe not. It’s fine. If you read them, I’d love to know what you think.

I’ll also be changing the format of the story-reading.

While I will post a list of stories each month, that list will essentially be a grab bag. Choose what you’d like to read. But also, read whatever other short stories you’d like— I’ll be posting an open thread once a week where all my readers can talk about any short stories they’ve recently read. This will hopefully also open things up to more of a sense of community, rather than me scrambling to read stories and write about them and you, dear reader, maybe reading other stories but not being able to engage with those stories on here.

So, take next month’s list as a list of suggestions. Choose your own adventure.

I’ll keep reading Hamnet, even though it keeps making me cry.

And I’ll also write more about being a writer, starting soon. Here’s some really good news I got yesterday.

Stacy @stacystaces

Well, good news today. An offer for a creative writing PhD w/ full funding plus waitlisted for another one and still waiting for five more responses. I am honestly in disbelief.

Yep, that’s me. Child of two parents, neither of which graduated high-school, both of which have been gone (read, no longer living) for over ten years. Yesterday was an effervescent day, one where I could feel new possibilities whispering, their touches feathery and warm. I haven’t felt that in so, so long. And yet today I feel sad and a little lost, and that’s okay too, because big things like this take time to process.

Tell me: what are your thoughts? What would you love to see in your inbox?

And what are you reading right now?