Goldilocks, and Beyond

The thing about 2023 (yes, I'm going straight to talking about a year ago) is I had to work through a hodgepodge of things already set in motion while testing out the possibility of a new path ahead. For the most part, that was a joy. But it was a lot! 

First, I just want to think through the beautiful literary events that I've attended in 2024. I wrapped up my residency at the University of Nebraska Omaha (held at the Lied Lodge about an hour away from Omaha, in Nebraska City) by hearing readings and craft lectures from graduating students, who are champions on and off the page. I got to pose stylishly with the amazing fiction writer and fellow teacher Andy Johnson (pictured here). I only had one student for the spring 2024 semester—by choice, because things were so busy—but that was enough to keep me busy, because she is a mature and talented memoirist with a BIG story to tell. 

I heard Eduardo C. Corral read at the Arts Club of Washington and we went out for snacks afterward, which gave me a chance to meet poet Simon Shieh. I got to talk with Kyle Dargan at the Hill Center (the video here). Did a Barrelhouse Conversations & Connections thingamajig that gave me ample opportunity to cite a formational influence, the animated movie The Brave Little Toaster. Read alongside former students at the Writer's Club. I heard graduating American University students at Politics & Prose. I toured the Museum Rodin with poet Heather Hartley (pictured here; part of a Paris vacation, but totally counts!). I took part in Hood College's inaugural residency launch of their low-residency program, which included introducing Taylor Johnson for a Juneteenth celebration reading. I attended a Monday night BBP open mic/slam hosted by Angelique Palmer. I went to the National Book Festival and heard poets including Patricia Smith, Traci Brimhall, Forrest Gander, and Ruben Quesada, which was amazing, though a stage devoted to showcasing poet laureates from across the country is a bittersweet reminder that DC no longer has one. I popped back by the Arts Club to hear Bob Hicok read, attended PEN/Faulkner's annual garden party at the Hill Center, and got to grab a brief visit to the Literary Hill Bookfest.

Did you notice the part where we were in Paris? Paris! We lived in a 6th-fl apartment near the Bastille for 10 days, and we did a lot of cooking with food bought from the market, and we went out for music—jazz at Le Duc des Lombards and 38 Riv, cabaret at Au Lapin Agile. 

I started this blog post almost two months ago. I've always admired people who can write dispatches from life when it's moving at high speed, and for that matter, I've always admired diarists. That's never been my way. I can move and think fast, but I write slow when it comes to my personal creative work. In less than 24 months, I have had to try on several lives for size. One was too small; one was too big. The good news is that I'm working at a nonprofit that feels humane and sustainable, with room to grow, and the skills I've used in teaching for much of the last decade are also a great match for being a director of communications. But still, it's a lot of change! Bruce Feiler is just one of the thought leaders in talking about "lifequakes," and his work has helped distill what I've been processing. And will need to keep processing. 

In the spring, I stole two hours from a weekday afternoon and walked along the length of the Tidal Basin during the last stretch of cherry blossom season. I loved watching the people, and the light as it shifted, and I gave a respectful nod to Stumpy. I felt, as I often have in the last few years, the anticipatory grief of knowing we wouldn't be able to afford to stay here forever because our rental apartment would be priced out from under us. No matter how much I loved this part of the city. And I thought, But what if? What if we found a way to stay in Southwest? What if I just dared to let myself make that the goal?

That's how we ended up saying goodbye to an apartment that I loved very much—and oh, I miss the balcony and sunrises—an apartment that took good care of us for more than five years, through the worst of the pandemic. But it's the beginning of the story of a slightly bigger new space, one big enough to host Thanksgiving dinners, one with a spare sleeping space that I can offer a visiting writer, and a ground floor studio that my husband is shaping into a place to make art. Also, a front door! Of the five addresses I've had in D.C., I always had to pass through multiple doors and across multiple floors. Now we're just here, so very close to the larger world and a rose bush that I'm pretty sure is mine to look after, even though I know zilch about tending roses. 

In 2021, I bought a quilt made by a Mississippi friend (Coulter Fussell), inspired by the way the red starburst echoed the cover art of Made to Explode. Then it stayed in a box for three years, because I didn't have the space to hang it anywhere. Now I do. 

A couple of October opportunities: I'm so excited to join Eileen Weeren, Melissa Scholes Young, and the legendary Kathy Fish as part of the "Stories in a Flash" residential retreat in Charles Town, West Virginia, from October 21 through October 25. Please consider joining us if you can! The full details can be found here, and I'm happy to answer questions. Participants are capped at twelve, and there are only three spots left.

On the afternoon of Thursday, 10/24, I'll lead a two-hour generative workshop—something new that I've developed for this gathering—on "Cultivating the Poetry in Your Flash Prose." I'll be working with flash prose pieces by these ten writers to talk about musicality and the importance of speeding up, slowing down, and introducing rests in your work:

• Talea Anderson

• Tyrese L. Coleman

• Patricia Coral

• Lucy Corin

• Nels P. Highberg

• Davon Loeb

• Jono Naito

• Ed Park

• George Saunders

• Sejal Shah

Right on the heels of that, on Sunday, 10/27 (3-5 PM ET), I'll lead a Zoom-based, recorded Spotlight session for Politics & Prose on Sylvia Plath's Ariel, as part of their series on "The Book That Made Me the Writer I Am." Registration is open now.