An essay, book synchronicity, a reading, and things I can't stop thinking about
“Art does not come from thinking but from responding.”
Hey friends,
I’m in the waters of working on my next book project, what I hope is my second book. A book of prose. A book of essays? A book of possibilities. A book that’s finding its way. Do you want to know more about it? How processy and weird do you like your Substack letters these days? I’m ready to be weirder here. The other day I blurted out to two writer friends, “I am the alien I thought I was.” And one blurted back, “That’s a title.”
One part of the book project, an essay called “Flight Risk,” recently came out in the Kenyon Review. It’s a piece on restlessness, ADHD, San Francisco, and the costs of not knowing you're neurodivergent. Back then so much was foggy and uncertain, but I did learn how to tie my own tie, and just this weekend I put that tie in a place of honor in my new writing room, here in northern Michigan, ten years later, in a place I never thought I’d be able to call home.
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My first book, Divination with a Human Heart Attached, celebrated its first birthday last month. One magical moment, which happened almost exactly on the release anniversary, was when Florence Welch shared that it was one of the books that helped her out of a reading slump—
Florence + The Machine’s music has been a sonic/dancing/feeling/say-it-in-fire-if-you-have-to companion to me through a lot… so I was stunned when I woke up to Jay Zaff/YourShelf tagging me in an IG story about this. (Thank you, Jay!) When I was preparing for the book’s release and people asked about the vibe, I pointed them to Florence + The Machine. “King” came out right as Divination was in the final prep with Game Over Books, and I felt that great wonderful wave of connection like, “oh shit, this one song is doing what I took 40-some poems to even try to begin to do.” (Releasing a book has really shown me how much I’m just here for synchronicity…)
This Saturday, March 30 I’ll be reading from the book and doing some Q&A as part of the Common Sense Reading Series, hosted by Jordan Stempleman. I’ll be reading with Ian U Lockaby. It’s free and online and open to all, and I’d love to see you there. Registration is required, and you can do that here ⟶
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And things I can’t stop thinking about these days, namely the genocide in Gaza and also the persistence of publishers and arts institutions failing to meet this moment with Palestinians. There are so many things I will not unsee. So many silences I’m learning from and noting. I feel like I’m in a major shift in how I relate to publishing because of this, but I’m still finding words for it… I’m thinking a lot about power, who holds it, who anoints it with their silence or their compliance… things I’ve faced before in other roles, questions that are even part of Divination in some ways, but they have a new texture and urgency to them right now.
I’ve written about some of this in the Poetry Bulletin, especially as it relates to the “transparency” so many of us wish for in publishing:
Something that’s revving my thinking around this is what Paul Soulellis calls “urgent craft.” Here too I’m still finding my own way into these ideas, but I wanted to share one of Paul’s videos for others who might be curious. Paul’s sharing on urgent craft reminds me of Corita Kent: “Art does not come from thinking but from responding.”
I found Paul’s work through GenderFail, a publishing project that’s also generative and open and inspiring in so many ways.
I’d love to exchange more links and readings on these things… please drop a comment if you’re open to sharing. I’m trying to avoid turning my letters here into a space of expertise or “teaching,” if that makes sense. I’m trying to let this be more of a space where my mind is at work, and hopefully yours is too. I’m curious about practice exchange. About meeting each other as peers, in the here-ness of ideas, before they’re perfectly set.
There’s an immediacy that feels important right now; maybe it’s an invitation of this time—to risk saying what you know to be true even when you sense it’s imperfect. I’m still sorting how I want to play with that/embrace it in spaces like this, but if you’re here for that, then I am too.
emily
Yes to all of this! More sharing. More responding. More inspired (not obligatory) urgency--not the capitalist kind, the human heart kind. The kind you're talking about.