Walking in Madison, not Paris

And other random August thoughts

I haven’t written anything besides syllabi and a departmental self-study in weeks. This feels like the right thing to do after a summer spent mostly hunched in front of my computer, doing the hard work of putting a book out into the world. That was followed by a couple of weeks of book events. Three events total, which doesn’t sound like a lot until you include the emotional and psychological energy each one involves.

Thank you so much to every bookstore (Tomorrow Bookstore and Joseph-Beth) and library (Jefferson County Public Library) and all the people (too many to name) who helped organize these events. Thanks to everyone who showed up. Special shout-out to the woman at Joseph-Beth who wandered into my book talk and then, like a total super-hero, bought one of my books.

Awesome people at Tomorrow Bookstore event. Julia and Jake (owners), me, and Tiffany Kyser, who was a great discussion partner

There were lots of great moments like these in putting FAIR GAME out into the world, but also, a lot of exhaustion. I feel a little beat-up. I don’t want to be a whinging writer, (I’m lying. I totally want to be a whinging writer because, one, I love the word whinging, and two, there is nothing I love myself more than hearing a writer whinge. Why are writers not allowed to whinge, for fuck’s sake? This is hard shit we’re doing. Whinge away.), but it was a hard thing this. I feel a little broken and I’m trying to figure out what happens next. Or if anything happens next. I’m enjoying the looseness in my life in the spaces where writing used to be.

I removed Instagram and the Substack app from the home screen on my phone, both of which felt very satisfying. I’ve realized I pick up my phone and look at these apps when I’m feeling anxious. They don’t soothe that anxiety. I’d like to do a better job at finding something that does. I’d like to maybe be a little less anxious in the first place.

I want to spend more time staring off into space. I want to spend more time wondering why crickets seem louder in the fall. I want to appreciate the tenacity of vines even as they take over our garden. I want to spend more time noticing the sky or the little yellow bug on my front door or the sound of a red-shouldered hawk in the backyard. I want to recover the tiniest bit of what the world was like before phones and screens.

First Mexican sunflower bloom in the garden

I want to walk more. It makes the noticing easier. On this morning’s walk, I saw a woman on her front porch enjoying the oddly cool August morning. I saw the marigolds in front of a neighbor’s house that were so scrawny in the spring and are now happy and full. I missed that gradual change, hunched over my computer. I missed a lot.

Sometimes I feel like walking around Madison can’t be as interesting as walking around Paris. Or New York. How can it be? It’s Madison. That’s Paris. Or New York. All I have to do is say at the outset that this is a walk around Paris and there’s already a glow. Madison doesn’t glow. I want to remember how Madison glows. I want to make Madison glow for the rest of the world.

I want to go slow. I want to give myself time to figure things out. A lot happened this summer. Things broke and things healed. It might take me the whole fall and winter to make sense of it all. I think that’s okay.