It’s July again, almost August, and I’m sweating and sneezing and sleeping. We got our very first batch of avocados from one of the trees in the backyard. They’re small and not ready yet. Originally, the sapling was a gift I gave my husband many years ago, maybe just two or three years after we started dating. The tree has grown and grown, but never bore us any fruit until now.
Despite the oppressive heat, we’ve been going on evening walks. We’ve made a game of finding kitties along our route. I pretend I’m catching them like Pokémon with my camera. There are so many cats in our neighborhood and people take care of them. There is one corner house that we estimate must have 15-20 cats that come around to get fed. We’re always seeing new ones appear. They hide in the bushes, lounge on the driveway or sidewalk, and sometimes stare at us from the roof.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve been going more and more analog (which I intend to take into the classroom in the fall) as the internet becomes deader and deader, emptier and emptier. I subscribed to a gaming magazine called Patch and delight in receiving a new issue every month in my mailbox. Whenever I pick up a new book to read and spend some time with it, I feel so much closer to humanity. I do not feel this way when I go online; if anything, I feel much more disconnected and unsettled by not just difference of opinion and temperament, but what sometimes seems like complete separations of reality. Apparently, some people just experience an entirely different universe that I am not able to access. How we move further away from each other despite creeping technologies that insist on continuous oversharing, how we move further away from ourselves and our imaginations. Taking trips to the library has helped, which seems to me hilariously punk at this point. I’m glad I have my sister to take these trips with, in between getting slices of Oreo cheesecake.
I continue to work on my poetry manuscript, submitting new or revised poems when I can. Exploring different forms, I’ve fallen in love with the haibun (I think my manuscript will end up having a handful), and I’m also working on erasures and odes. I recently published a poem in the “In-Between” issue of Folio, which explores the fraught battlefield of gender and childhood. If you’ve ever felt like a misfit of any kind, maybe it will resonate.
Earlier this year, writer-friend Stephen Delaney published Our Place Is In Between, a chapbook of curious, occasionally fabulist prose and prose poems (featuring a kitty curled on the cover, which Jacob conveniently posed for). The chapbook includes a collaboration we worked on together. I’m grateful for the writing folks I’ve been able to get to know (whether in school or in online circles), since, increasingly and surreally, writing has become a radical act of communion and resistance.
If we applied the Goodreads rating system to years, this one was a solid 2 out of 5 stars. Not especially great, I must say. There were moments of reprieve, but a lot of frustration, stress, disruption, and existential crises. A lot of: why am I doing this? Why are WE doing this? Why are we here?
Outside of, you know, everything (gesturing at the country, the world; so many have written about so much this year that it’s exhausting), teaching in particular was quite a challenge due to the rampant use of AI by students. If you aren’t aware, in higher education, AI use has gotten much worse and is massively underreported, and professors have really had to reevaluate how they teach, particularly when it comes to writing instruction. Some choose to ignore what is happening for the sake of their own mental wellbeing, while others seem to be going full Luddite, where all writing is done with a pen and paper in the classroom, blue books, and/or requiring oral defenses. We are so desperate to just get students to do their own work, to come up with an original thought of their own. When I see a student actually writing about something they care about in their own words, I could cry out of sheer delight and relief. This is where we’re at now. I have stressed in the past how I cannot help them become better writers and more nuanced critical thinkers if it isn’t their own work, but this simply isn’t enough. I’ve considered what I’m going to do moving forward and currently will be implementing more in-class writing and peer reviews during the drafting process. It’s not ideal, but I do think students need to be capable of writing independently outside of the classroom as well. I’m a writer, and all the best writing I’ve done has happened outside of the classroom, in my own time, with some kind of feedback involved.
“Slop” was declared the word of the year by Merriam-Webster, which I think encapsulates everything really well. Outside of writing, we have to be extra vigilant with what we are seeing and consuming online now, as more content becomes AI produced. I remember growing up in the nineties and being very excited about the advent of the internet, how everything was opening up and expanding in terms of creativity and expression, how we suddenly had access to even the most esoteric information at our fingertips, how introverts like me could more easily connect with each other and find/found communities around their strange, niche hobbies. This age we’re living in now feels like the exact opposite of that. It’s not democratizing, it’s homogenizing. Not very punk at all.
In addition to these new challenges we face as educators and humans, I’ve had to juggle another new role: coordinating learning assistants in the first-year composition classes and at the writing center at my university. As part of this, I attended the ILAC conference at the University of Colorado and co-presented with some colleagues on how learning assistants can help with peer review and building a writer’s confidence in the classroom. This was a bright spot in the year, as it was very motivating and encouraging to be around hundreds of instructors from around the world who also care about what you care about, listening to and learning from their own challenges and how they have faced them at their own institutions, how we can better serve our students with these additional resources. The conference took place in November, so I briefly got to experience fall as a season–surrounded by the mountains, the cool wind nipping your cheeks, the yellow and red leaves falling off the trees, the bikers yelling at you to stay out of the bike lane or be run over.
During the summer, in a more quiet heat, there was a memorial for my husband’s stepmother. We traveled to Texas to attend it. As I listened to the tributes given by the family, I was reminded of Victoria Chang’s Obit, where the author, when contending with the death of her parents, notes how grief moves, how memory “gets up […] and starts walking.” It’s been a few years since my Nana passed away, but I feel this sometimes in moments. Something will unhook or unlatch as I move through the day, and she is here again. She is here still, even when she isn’t.
This year was also challenging due to the worsening of my chronic intestinal issues, which have been confusing and disruptive. My relationship to food, which used to be somewhat indifferent, has become more contentious, as I don’t know which foods that I put in my body will end up giving me intestinal issues. I haven’t been able to figure out a consistent pattern to anything. I’ve gone to the gastrologist and have tried many different approaches, medications, antibiotics and probiotics. I know I should exercise more (who shouldn’t?), but I have low energy and have always hated moving and sweating. Please don’t make me.
As you will notice below, I largely read poetry and nonfiction this year, which makes sense, as I’ve been working on my own collection of poetry. I have a new poem, a haibun, that will be published in the upcoming issue of Hayden’s Ferry Review. I listened to many podcasts and some audiobooks, which helped with my long commute to work. I played a good variety of video games, many of which probably fall under either the “cozy” or “puzzle” category. Some visual novels, some fighting, and some cooperative games I played with my sister. Not many RPGs, although I definitely have a backlog that I should tackle in the upcoming year. Not a lot of new music. I didn’t really watch movies at all.
I am hoping next year is more stable. Softer. During this winter break, I’ve been reminded how nourishing the act of reading is. I don’t do much of it for pleasure during the semesters, as I much prefer sleeping and turning off my brain. I need to submit my poetry more often, more widely. I need to apply the hydra strategy: for every rejection received, you submit to two more journals in its place. If you’re annoying, you can make more things happen.
Media and Art that Defined My Year
Poetry: Love Prodigal by Traci Brimhall Deed by torrin a. greathouse Crush by Richard Siken (reread) Love Is a Dangerous Word by Essex Hemphill Song of My Softening by Omotara James Punks by John Keene Modern Poetry by Diane Seuss Trophic Cascade by Camille Dungy My Alexandria by Mark Doty If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar The Virginia State Colony for Epileptics and Feebleminded by Molly McCully Brown
Nonfiction: Teaching Critical Thinking by bell hooks Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come by Jessica Pan Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby High School by Tegan and Sara Quin I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy The Backyard Bird Chronicles by Amy Tan My Meteorite by Harry Dodge Like Love: Essays and Conversations by Maggie Nelson Poets Square: A Memoir in Thirty Cats by Courtney Gustafson The Two Kinds of Decay by Sarah Manguso
Fiction: The Emperor of Gladness by Ocean Vuong Lie with Me and In the Absence of Men by Philippe Besson Willful Creatures by Aimee Bender Nimona by N.D. Stevenson
TV Series: Abbott Elementary The Great British Baking Show Broad City Hacks Big Boys Superstore (rewatch) The Man on the Inside The Prisoner Stranger Things
Video Games: Infinity Nikki Arcade Spirits: New Challengers Hello Kitty Island Adventure Pokémon Trading Card Game Pocket Lego Horizon Adventures Marvel vs. Capcom Fighting Collection and Capcom Fighting Collection 2 Them’s Fighting Herds Bugsnax Carmen Sandiego Coffee Talk and Coffee Talk, Episode 2: Hibiscus and Butterfly Astro’s Playroom and Astro Bot Blue Prince Breath of Fire II Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma Trash Goblin Date Everything! Tiny Bookshop Klonoa: Empire of Dreams Story of Seasons: Grand Bazaar Final Fantasy Tactics: the Ivalice Chronicles Beacon Pines Once Upon a Katamari Kingdoms of the Dump Marvel Cosmic Invasion
Music: Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party by Hayley Williams The Gods We Can Touch by Aurora From the Pyre by the Last Dinner Party Supernature by Goldfrapp “Children of the Corn” and “In Der Palastra” by Sopor Aeternus and the Ensemble of Shadows
Podcasts: A Bit Fruity w/ Matt Bernstein (pop culture, internet, politics) Square Roots (gaming) RPG Cast (gaming) Bad Art (politics, art) 404 Media Podcast (technology, internet) Between the Covers w/ David Naimon (books, writers)
We often think of a life in chapters. This organization makes sense, even for those who don’t consider writing to be their dedicated vocation or life’s work. A poem cycle I am drafting features this conceit: each poem is a chapter, and each chapter is written with the conventions/tropes/lens of a different genre (e.g.: fantasy, horror, romance, etc.). It is strange to think about how my life would be organized otherwise, if I weren’t a writer. I cannot help but think back to certain life events through the lens of my reading/writing and creative impulses/obsessions at the time. My whole identity is bound up and defined this way. Because of this, I’ve paid close attention to how my tastes have changed over the years, how my specific motivations for writing have changed. Through this mapping, I can also see how my priorities have shifted as a human. I wonder if other writers and creatives segment out their lives in a similar way, if any of the organization to these chapters have more universal qualities than I realized.
Here I have mapped out my life stages as defined by my primary motivation for my writing-being during each period.
1. Childhood: Escapism
I was a quiet child with a loud imagination. I was an only child for the first eight years of my life. Writing was a means to entertain myself and the few others who would put up with my eccentricities and esoteric fascinations. I made books out of construction paper for my mom, I wrote plays for my family. I made up video game character select screens, bestiaries. I wrote because it was exciting; I was always vibrating with ideas and had to put them somewhere. Writing gave me the space to play with them.
2. Adolescence: Catharsis
During my teenage years, I obsessively chronicled my everyday life. Writing became less about dreaming and fantasizing and more about venting and understanding what I was feeling (see: existential angst, confusion, frustration). It became my primary means and preferred method of communication. I kept several online journals (one was read by close friends, others were only for me). I wrote because I was compelled to and I wrote to feel less alone. It was part prayer, part exorcism. This was the obsessive period in that I couldn’t seem to help what I was doing. Along the way, I connected with others online through my writing and ranting into the ether. They certainly put up with me more than I would have.
3. Young Adulthood: Observation
After graduating college with my BA, I felt adrift and uncertain. I knew what I was good at, but I didn’t know how it was going to fit into a career exactly. I was unsure about teaching. I began having severe panic episodes for the first time. I moved away from my everyday online chronicling and instead kept a physical journal to map my anxieties, shown only to my therapist. I was forced to look at myself with more distance, from the outside in. I began to edit for literary journals and publish poems and short fiction. For the first time ever, there was a consideration of audience. My writing became less private and I had to think about what that meant, if I wanted to use a pseudonym. I ended up using a half-pseudonym, which has stuck with me to this day.
4. Adulthood: Organization
My writing and reasons for writing now take on many forms; it’s all about juggling modes and moods. There are so many drafts in so many different places, to-do lists and notes. Writing happens on my phone, on my computer, in the shower, before I fall asleep. Pieces eventually coalesce or don’t. I check tasks off everywhere, I set reminders. There is so much prioritizing. My creative life is much more compartmentalized because it has to be. I strive for coherence in my writing and through my writing.
This year, I decided to split everything up, as life and American culture continues to fracture. You see, life imitates art (and blogging).
Teaching
I taught as an adjunct professor for a year and was hired by my alma mater as a full-time instructor. My role now is hybrid: I teach a class or two every semester while also helping to direct the university’s writing center. This new role suits me, as I have previous experience working at the center for years. I’ve also come to incorporate my classroom teaching with more writing center pedagogy, spending more time individually with students as I did when I was a writing consultant. I often feel much better about teaching when I get to spend time like this with students as individuals; it humanizes the learning process a lot more. I also look forward to teaching poetry and perhaps creative writing in the future.
AI and Algorithms
If you are any teacher of writing, I feel your frustration. These LLMs have become so quickly integrated into so many online tools without enough deserved skepticism. I emphasize in my classes how writing is distinctly human, bound up intimately with identity, voice, and an individual’s critical thinking, and these tools remove all those essential elements. As a result, writing loses its originality and texture. I find myself, more than ever before, having to justify why writing your own original work is important and necessary, which seems surreal to me. Any issues with traditional plagiarism have become almost quaint. This is where we’re at now, unfortunately. I half-joke with colleagues that I am returning to parchment and quills. Students will be expected to bring their own inkwells.
Writing
I published a lyric essay in Salamander, which was recognized as Notable in Best American Essays 2024. I received many nice rejections for my poems, but didn’t have enough time to send more out. I will try to work on that. I say this every year.
Reading
I read a lot of student papers, of course, and texts/books on writing and teaching writing. Outside of that, it was mostly poetry and graphic novels. Bite-sized things in my leisure. I have gravitated less towards literary fiction, as I have been writing more poetry and nonfiction.
Libraries
I got a new library card, and so my sister and I have gotten more in the habit of paying visits to our local library. We’ve discovered new writers this way. They often have sales too, where we find good books for a dollar. I harp on and on about using the library’s resources to my students. It’s free, it’s one of the few remaining third places we have, and it’s right there. Use it!
Social Media
What are we even doing anymore with these platforms? There has been a migration from Twitter/X to places like Bluesky and Threads. Everything is so fractured and it feels kind of pointless to try to keep starting over and over and over again.
Weather
I know I constantly bleat and whinge about how oppressively hot it is, but this year was brutal. And then the hurricanes came.
Illness
I got COVID for the first time and I was so mad. It was miserable. The one time I leave the house.
Body
I continue to suffer from irregular GI issues. My dysmorphia also hasn’t been great. My body and mind love being my archnemeses. Instead of all this AI nonsense, can someone please usher in the era where I can upload my consciousness or become an ethereal mist? Thank you.
Election
Disappointed but not exactly surprised, which is my general response to most human outcomes.
Congrats/Thank Yous
Congrats to my sister for graduating with her degree in environmental science! Congrats to me for surviving the first semester in my new professional role! Thank you to my husband, whose lovely presence continues to reach far and deep. Thank you to teachers, always. Thank you to the editors of Salamander, who championed my work. Congrats to my writing friends on all their publications!
Memorable Media and Art that Defined the Year
Books: Autobiography of Red and Red Doc> by Anne Carson Bestiary and The Renunciations by Donika Kelly Bound by Jubi-Arriola Headley Mammoth by Rachel McKibbens Song and To the Place of Trumpets by Brigit Pegeen Kelly Obit by Victoria Chang The Clerk’s Tale by Spencer Reece The Tradition by Jericho Brown Bluff by Danez Smith Banned Book Club by Kim Hyun Sook Roaming by Jillian and Mariko Tamaki
TV Series: Somebody Somewhere Broad City English Teacher Abbott Elementary The Great British Baking Show The Dragon Prince Heartstopper
Movies: Nope Totally Killer Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe Babes Bottoms The Craft: Legacy
Video Games: Palia Dave the Diver Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Trilogy Tekken 8 Subnautica: Below Zero Botany Manor Sticky Business Endless Ocean: Luminous Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door Little Kitty, Big City We Love Katamari Reroll Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore I Was a Teenage Exocolonist Lemon Cake Beyond Good and Evil (20th Anniversary Edition) Cattails Potion Permit Paradise Killer Pikuniku The World Next Door My Time at Portia Crab God Pokemon TCG Pocket The Fall of Porcupine Metaphor: ReFantazio RollerCoaster Tycoon Classic Infinity Nikki
Music: The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess by Chappell Roan Prelude to Ecstasy by The Last Dinner Party All Born Screaming by St. Vincent Palomino by First Aid Kit Fire Within by Birdy Dreaming of Revenge by Kaki King Philharmonics by Agnes Obel The Burdens of Being Upright by Tracy Bonham
I completed my thesis and graduated with my Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing and a 4.0 GPA. I taught a creative writing workshop for the first time and hopefully not the last. Over the course of teaching, I received a lot of positive feedback from the student evaluations. I finished my time working at my university’s writing center as well, which was probably one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve had.
I also got to visit a few new places, beautiful places. In the spring, we visited Savannah, Georgia for a niece’s wedding. After my graduation, we saw friends and family in Colorado and North Carolina. I acquired a new jealousy: of those who get to experience a real autumn, with the crisp air and the leaves changing color. I imagine it would be my favorite season if Florida actually had seasons (aside from hurricane).
Colorado
North Carolina
This fall, I started teaching writing at a new university 5x a week, which was overwhelming at first. Teaching takes a lot of time and energy, in case you didn’t know. Some much work happens behind the scenes too, the work that is easy to forget if you’re on the outside looking in. But it’s fulfilling work, which is why I continue to do it. I feel like I’m actually using my abilities now as they should be used. This is a new feeling. I love helping students become more confident as writers.
However, alongside all this work and these accomplishments, we lost Nana, one of my favorite people in the world. It still feels strange and a bit unreal; she was such a bright, constant presence in my life that it feels impossible to no longer have her in it. My brain makes me feel like she is still here, even though she isn’t. I think about her most often in moments of triumph, when I feel like I’ve done something especially meaningful. Something changes for the good and I want to give her a call. I want her to be excited with me. I miss her delight at the news I’d bring her.
I always promised Nana I’d dedicate my first book to her, so here is the dedication from my thesis:
She taught me how to make light, how to be light.
I also published a lyric essay in the latest print issue of Salamander. I was very proud of this, as it served as the heart of my thesis. I was invited to do an online reading with the magazine over the summer.
I tell myself that I haven’t had the chance to read as much as I’ve wanted to because I’ve been reading and grading so much student work. This is true, but I’m still kind of annoyed that I didn’t read more. I didn’t even reach half of my reading goal this year. Most of what I did read was poetry and nonfiction, a continuation of last year. This is no surprise. Some craft, some textbooks. And of course, cats poems and cat-related fiction.
I played a lot of stellar video games. Some were retro, some were remakes, some were sequels, some were really interesting new indies. I didn’t listen to a lot of new music; most of which I did listen to was ambient noise for my long grading sessions.
I didn’t write much following graduation either. I let myself replenish. Sometimes you need just that. I revised a little, started a few new poems. I will start submitting again next year. I wrote a rejection erasure, which was part of this small trend happening on social media among writers.
I met writer and poet Julie Marie Wade at a reading at Books and Books. Her writing served as inspiration for my thesis. I fell in love with lyric essays partially because of her. You should read her new book of essays. It’s called Otherwise.
I filled up a small notebook I’ve been carrying around with me. The first entry is dated 1/8/22. The front is ripped and almost falling off, but it is now filled with all kinds of scribblings–notes from graduate classes and my thesis committee, lines for poems, thoughts on feedback received in workshop, to-do lists, lesson planning, and more. I will have to start a new one next year, of course–fortunately, I am never without a fresh one. It’s a gift I often receive as a writer, and one that I will always need.
Finally, here are the various medias/art that have defined my year. I may consider doing one for podcasts next year, as I’ve started listening to quite a few of those.
Books: Fight, Magic, Items by Aidan Moher Woman without Shame by Sandra Cisneros The Balloonists by Eula Biss A Harp in the Stars, edited by Randon Billings Noble Voice of the Fish by Lars Horn The White Card by Claudia Rankine The Black Unicorn by Audre Lorde The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes on by Franny Choi The Study of Human Life by Joshua Bennett Hand in Hand with Love: An Anthology of Classic Queer Poetry, edited by Simon Avery Cat Poems, edited by New Direction The Cat Who Saved Books by Sosuke Natsukawa Nick and Charlie by Alice Oseman Periodic Boyfriends by Drew Pisarra Otherwise by Julie Marie Wade Trick Mirror: Reflections on Self-Delusion by Jia Tolentino The Poet’s Companion: A Guide to the Pleasures of Writing Poetry by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft by Janet Burroway Understanding Rhetoric: A Graphic Guide to Writing by Elizabeth Losh and Jonathan Alexander
TV series: The Other Two Loot Aggretsuko The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Heartstopper The Great British Baking Show Tiny House Hunters Fellow Travelers
Video games: Harvestella Arcade Spirits The Oregon Trail (2023) Shining Force Shining Force II Warioware Pokémon Stadium Grow: Song of the Evertree Paper Mario Loop Hero Sackboy: A Big Adventure Octopath Traveler II Street Fighter 6 Hogwarts Legacy Sea of Stars Inscryption Saint Maker Little Goody Two Shoes Pilgrims Super Mario RPG Remake Wattam
Music: Imperium by Blouse Slugs of Love by Little Dragon If You Leave by Daughter Strip Me by Natasha Bedingfield Live Through This by Hole American Thighs by Veruca Salt So Long, Scarecrow by Scarling
