First Draft Word Count: 60,229 (+1,803 since last post).

In my grand plan to finish a first draft on my novel, I envision May to be the month when rubber hit the road. The final push to hit my word count. The month to buckle down and write like my life depended on it. May, as it turned out, had other plans.

I have recently hit the 60,000 word mark, and have also felt the diminishing momentum of a plot without much fuel left to shovel into the fires. These two factors have conspired to give me an excuse to take a pause in the mad dash of first drafting.

These factors alone might have been enough to slow my momentum. However, they have also been supported by a certain chaos involving bed bugs and flat tires. All to say, I haven’t written much of anything the past couple of weeks.

Oh no! I hear you say. That must have you super stressed and down on yourself Carver!

Honestly, it’s been nice to take a break. Especially having reached a respectable, novel-ish word count—my original goal of 90,000 by May 31st notwithstanding.

I probably don’t need to say that I no longer expect to hit this original goal. That is to say, I do not expect to write 30,000 words in the next three days. Although, if i were to do that anywhere, I am in the perfect place—I am on a writing retreat along with some friends. We have collectively rented a cabin in the mountains for the weekend.

I think that having this retreat to look forward to has helped reduce my guilt about writing less this month than I had originally planned. I suspect it may end up being beneficial to have taken some time off. Will have allowed me to come into the weekend eager to get some work done rather than tired out from a long month of labor.

I don’t have firm goals for the weekend, aside from spending lots of time writing. I am thinking that, even if it won’t mean much materially, I will informally declare this weekend the end of draft one. Take the opportunity to evaluate where I’m at and where I might want to rearrange things or fill in gaps.

This will, I think, be useful, and will be a good opportunity to pat myself on the back for writing a lot of words.

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Until next time,

-Carver

I could spend most of this post explaining why I took over a week off of writing, but that sounds boring to write, and I’m sure even more boring to read. Suffice it to say—I was busy with other things. That’s allowed, right?

What’s important is that I’m back at it, and I’m having a good time. I’m finding myself cycling between different methods of getting words onto the page. For example, I’ll type on my iPad. Then, I’ll write by hand in a spiral notebook. Then I’ll go one a walk and dictate into my phone. Sometimes I find it helpful to go to a coffee shop. Sometimes I find it helpful to sit on the floor in the closet with the door closed.

Sometimes I will do all of these things in one day.

It’s a little bit chaotic, which I’m trying to be okay with. Whatever is working at the moment, right?

I will say that I am enjoying writing by hand, which I’ve been doing more the last couple of days. I bought a cheap spiral bound notebook at the grocery store, which I’ve been using.

I’ve been seriously considering whether I want my words to exist in a medium that can be at all accessed by companies using Large Language Models. Specifically, the worst place is what I’m using at the moment—Google Docs. But I’m starting to question whether it’s worth it to write digitally at all.

Part of this feeling may come from excess paranoia. A likely unnecessary precaution against companies using my writing to train their models. But beyond that, we’re already entering a world in which it feels like anything that exists on a screen cannot be fully trusted. If my manuscript exists primarily in a document, how do I prove that I actually wrote those words. Where’s the evidence of the hours and hours and hours that I’m putting in. It’s all ephemeral. Smoke.

At the moment, I’m just dipping my toes in the water, but I’m seriously considering doing all of my drafting by hand in the future.

In addition to being immune to AI, I find writing by hand has other benefits. It keeps me from worrying about word count too much. It helps avoid distraction. I find I am able to be more thoughtful, because I write more slowly by hand.

It’s easy to worry that AI will only pull us deeper into technology. But what if it does the opposite? Forces us into the real world. Forces us back to analogue media.

Yeah, I know. Seems unlikely.

But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?

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Until next time,

-Carver

I watch the whole thing.

As the story unfolds, I expect to get into the mind of the cult surrounding Samuel Bateman, but ultimately, despite how deep into the cult the footage takes us, I only find myself feeling baffled. How can so many people fall into the trap of this loser?

And this guy is such a loser. Clearly, always has been a loser. Even other FLDS members at the beginning of the documentary are like: yeah that guy is a loser.

Explaining this is not the docuserie’s focus. It is making sure Bateman faces justice for his crimes. But it made me think about this narrative we have about cult leaders that they’re always hot and charismatic and smart. This sort of makes it a little easier to swallow. Watching this documentary will cure you of that presumption.

I’m not really talking here about the true victims of Bateman. There are children who are groomed to believe they have no other choice, and of course that’s understandable. I’m talking about the adults. The parents who justify letting their underage children ‘marry’ a 40 year old man. It’s difficult to imagine what they’re thinking. How they live in the same world as me.

It’s a reminder, when thinking about my own writing, that characters can act in ways that I don’t fully understand, and sometimes that is what makes them interesting.

I think it also speaks to the extent to which communities can normalize atrocities. If everyone else seems to be okay with something, how bad can it be?

novel wip updates

First Draft Word Count: 56,524 (+1,906 since last week).

Lately, I’ve been finding it difficult to work on this draft. It’s feeling a little bit like a slog. I think there are a couple of reasons for this.

One of the reasons is the shiny new project problem. I’ve been having some ideas for new projects that feel more exciting to me at the moment. And, since I’m quite deep in this draft now, it has divorced itself from the perfect image I had in my head and the realities of its imperfections are presenting themselves to me.

Another reason, between friends, is that I’ve been a little bit glued to Instagram, and I think that this may be hijacking my dopamine receptors somewhat. I made another reel that’s doing fairly well, and I’m finding it difficult to stop myself from opening the app every few minutes to see if it has any new likes. I also find myself watching a lot of reels under the guise of ‘research.’

I am having fun with Instagram, but I want to find a way to go about it that feels less like I’m playing the slots, such that the artistic work I really care about becomes less appealing. I have a lot of app blockers that are supposed to keep me from opening Instagram during certain hours of the day, but clearly they are not working. The only thing, really, that seems to work is completely putting my phone in a separate room from myself for an extended period of time.

Part of me is a little worried that finding it more difficult to work on my draft means that I’m not doing good work. Or to restate it in a kinder way to myself, that I’m heading down the wrong path for the book. This is something I hear writers say sometimes: if you’re not having fun writing, how can you expect the reader to have fun reading?

Well, I think I actually am enjoying some of the writing once I actually start writing. I think another factor is that I’m having trouble hitting word counts at the moment.

Yada yada yada. I could analyze all of my problems with writing ad nauseam. Let’s take a second to focus on the positive: I am still writing, which is great! My main goal is still to get a first draft done. Taking everything else away, I am working steadily towards that goal, learning to trust myself to do hard things.

Good job, Carver.

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Until next time.

Most of my book time this week has been taken up by Tana French’s new novel The Keeper. It’s the conclusion to her Cal Hooper series. That’s right, more Irish murder mystery. I also finally got around to seeing Project Hail Mary in theaters.

I’m close to finishing The Keeper, but I’m not done yet. Although to me, French’s novels are always more about the journey than the destination. That might seem obvious, but I do think it’s unusual for murder mysteries. Usually you want to get to the end, find out who done it. With this book, I just want to live in the world. The Cal Hooper books, (The Searcher, The Hunter, and now The Keeper) explore the dark underbelly of the fictional Irish village Ardnakelty. I’ve listened to them on audiobook, which I challenge you to do without picking up a few choice Irish phrases to work into your vernacular. Amn’t I right, boyo?

I’m always in a bit of awe at how well Tana French seems to understand people. The complex web their relationships weave, why they do what they do. Her books are alive with subtext. Just living in the minds of her characters has been helping me with understanding and inhabiting my own characters. What a profound power reading has: the power to infect you with empathy.

As for Project Hail Mary, that’s just a great movie. It felt like the kind of movie that might make you say: they don’t make movies like that anymore. Except that they did. I think there’s a lot to learn about story from the movie (which, of course, comes from the book, although I haven’t read it). It’s such a great set up and so well paced. If you haven’t seen it yet, go see it! See it in theaters! Get some popcorn! (Or sneak in your own, more reasonably priced, snacks).

novel wip updates

First Draft Word Count: 54,618 (+2,087 since last week).

Once again, I am pleasantly surprised to have written about the same amount this week as last week. It’s interesting to notice that I seem to be fairly steadily writing 2,000 words per week. Although this is less than I should be writing according to the schedule that I made for myself, it is feeling like a good balance of keeping up momentum without pushing myself too hard.

The main change this week is that I have gone to a coffee shop to get work done in the morning. This is different than what I have been doing for a while, which is putting writing off for most of the day and then writing 500 panicky words in 10 minutes at 1AM. Although this non-nocturnal schedule hasn’t upped my weekly word count, this has been a much more pleasant experience for me. I believe that it is benefiting the writing as well. Imagine that.

I had been feeling like I wasn’t sure where the rest of the story was going, and while I’m still not entirely sure, giving myself the time to spend longer with the manuscript rather than rushing out the words is allowing me to let the characters guide the story a bit more. It takes some time to get into their heads. I want to make sure I’m allowing myself that time.

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Until next time,

-Carver

just going for it

This week, I made a couple of short form videos and posted them on various platforms (youtube, tiktok, and Instagram). On YouTube and TikTok, they didn’t do very well at all, but on Instagram, I had better luck. One of them is sitting just under 3,000 views, another is at 5,000, and another is approaching 45,000 views.

Internet video is something I have very mixed feelings about. They basically raised me, so I have a soft spot for them. That being said, I’m not entirely sure that’s a good thing. At the same time, they are a powerful tool with which to reach people. (Let’s just say my Substacks are NOT getting 45,000 views). But, anytime I start making videos, they tend to hijack my brain a little bit. I spent a lot of this week refreshing Instagram to see how my videos were doing. Whether they were getting more likes and more views. I would close the app only to immediately open it again.

I’m not the first person to struggle with this, and I’m also not going to be the last. But I also had a little bit of a perspective shift on this. I do believe there is an unhealthy aspect to tracking the likes and views online, but I also noticed something in myself alongside these feelings, which was some excitement. After long months of working on a novel that may or may not see the light of day, it feels good to make something in an hour and put it out there. Is it so terrible to feel good when people respond to it? At the very least, I think it’s complicated.

Being an author is a big goal for me. I want to write novels. But there are other things I want to try in this life as well. I’ve been wanting to make online videos since 2009. I don’t want to look back and wish I had given it my all.

Right now, I’m feeling a certain power in just going for things. Writing the book. Posting the video. Sending the Substack. I’ve spent enough time second guessing and overthinking. This is all a process. It’s an exercise in growth and self-knowledge. I’m trying to look at it that way anyway. How can I make short videos and use them to learn about what I’m good at? What my sense of humor is like? What kinds of conversations do I want to be a part of and what kinds do I not?

I wonder if there is something you been avoiding? What are you scared of? What does that tell you about what you want to be doing? If not now, when?

wip updates

First Draft Word Count: 52,531 (+2,002 since last week)

One of the reasons that I’m finding doing these weekly reflections to be helpful is that they force me to compare my perception with reality. This week, I felt, has been less successful than last week. I felt this way because I have missed a couple of days of writing and haven’t been reading back through parts of the manuscript like I’d said I’d wanted to. But numbers wise, I actually wrote almost exactly the same number of words this week as last week. (2,008 vs 2,002).

It’s healthy for me to notice the ways I’m being successful, because left to my own devices, I will laser focus on the ways that I am being unsuccessful. And there are plenty of those! I’m falling behind on my word count plan, I missed a couple of days this week, I’m feeling a little less confident about where the story is heading, etc. What my brain refuses to acknowledge for some reason are the ways that I’m doing well. My word count is increasing every week. I am writing most days. I feel good about the story as a whole. I believe it shows growth from my past projects.

This is something that I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t writing this newsletter. So thanks for reading, to those who are reading.

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Until next time,

-Carver

reading updates

I read Flesh this week, a Booker prize winning novel by David Szalay. It was one of those books that immediately drew me in. Something about the quiet, spare prose and detached narrator creates a surprisingly propulsive pace for a novel that is otherwise not especially thrilling, (although certainly some dramatic things happen).

The novel follows the life of Istvan from adolescence through his adulthood, from Hungary to England, and from penury to abundance. I never really foresaw where things were going. Something really unique about the narrative is the way it centers Istvan’s sexual encounters and the way those shape his life.

It does well something that I’ve been thinking about recently. Often, in my experience, compelling novels are ones that give you the juicy details. The kinds of things that feel like you are not supposed to know. That, if a friend were to tell you about, would be spoken in a hushed voice so as to make you lean forward.

It’s also one of these novels that has left me feeling quite heartbroken in its aftermath in a way that really caught me off guard. For that reason it isn’t so much an automatic recommend the way that I thought maybe it would be when I started it. At the end of the day, it’s quite a bleak novel. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about those to be quite honest. I’m not sure if the world needs more bleakness. At the same time, I’m not sure if the same version of this novel with a happier conclusion would be a better novel. It probably wouldn’t be.

Of course, there is room for all kinds of art. A sad story can make you feel less alone. Looking at someone’s pain can make you want to help someone, can make you more empathetic. So perhaps what I’m feeling is more about the moment we are in historically than the novel itself. I feel like what I do not want right now is art that just says: look at how painful the world can be. I know that already. What I’d really like is some art that say: here’s how to make it a little bit nicer.

Maybe that’s asking too much? I really don’t know. What do you think?

wip updates

First Draft Word Count: 50,529 (+2,008 since last week)

For those of you who read last weeks post, you may remember that my goal was to make at least some progress on my manuscript every day. Well, I did that! And sure, one of those days may have been only five words, but that’s better than zero words! But more importantly, I stayed in contact with the story.

In terms of how the actual writing is going, it’s going okay. I think there are times in a draft when I feel like I have momentum and know the direction that I’m going in, and there are other times that feel more exploratory. Right now I am definitely in the exploratory phase.

I feel a little bit like I am driving through thick fog, not exactly sure what’s down the road in front of me, but making steady progress anyhow. And, as one should when driving in heavy fog, I’m moving a little bit more slowly than I do at other times.

I have found reading Flesh to be helpful in my own writing, actually. I’ve been finding in this manuscript that more often than not I am being swept up in extensive interiority, which I like and I think is an important aspect of this story. However the way that Flesh moves forward relentlessly is helpful in getting me out of those moments.

For next week I’m definitely hoping to keep dipping in to the manuscript everyday. In addition, this week, I think that I also want to spend more time reading over earlier parts of the manuscript. I’ve avoided doing this in the past, but I think it’s useful to stay in touch with. Sometimes looking back can help me figure out where to go next.

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Until next time,

-Carver

inspiration

When looking for inspiration for writing fiction, I often default to other fiction. But lately, I’ve been feeling more drawn towards other sources—documentaries and non-fiction books. While I’ve also been reading plenty of fiction, those books haven’t really been things that are in conversation with my current work-in-progress.

High fantasy doesn’t influence my contemporary literature novel. At least not much.

But sometimes, even when I am reading books that feel more relevant to what I’m working on, it can feel less inspiring than I expect it to. I often find art that responds to real life is more interesting and impactful than art that responds to other art.

Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s really important to read fiction as a fiction writer. It’s hugely helpful in learning craft, but I’m not sure I always find it inspiring. Sometimes I do, but I feel like that’s rare.

On the other hand, when I’m watching a documentary or reading non-fiction, it gets my brain working in a different way that feels like it opens up more possibilities and thoughts that don’t arise when I’m reading fiction.

For example, I’ve been dipping my toes into listening to The Will to Change by bell hooks. I’ve found it so interesting that I just picked up a physical copy so I can mark it up and dig into it, which I’m really looking forward to doing. And I find when I’m being exposed to new ideas, it often comes out when I’m writing fiction, allowing me to work through things that I otherwise wouldn’t have space to do.

This is something I want to remember to do more often.

wip update

First Draft Word Count: 48,521 (+1,394 since last week)

Writing wise, this week has been less productive than I wanted it to be. In part, because I haven’t been hitting word counts, but also in part because I have gone several days without doing any writing at all.

Every once in a while, I hear some pushback on the idea that you have to write every day, and I love that for people. You totally don’t have to write every day. You can write every once in a while or once a month or once a year if you want. But I find that if I’m not at least dipping my toes into my manuscript every day, then I start to lose touch with it, and every time I sit down to work on it, the barrier to entry gets higher.

So, with all that being said, I’m not necessarily unhappy with writing about 1,400 words this week, but I do feel unhappy with having missed several days in a row this week. So, moving forward, my aspiration this week is to have some contact with my manuscript every day, even if I’m not hitting my word counts necessarily.

With this particular project, I’ve been switching between the furthest place in the manuscript and jumping between sections of the manuscript filling out earlier scenes that I hadn’t finished. The latter is basically the practice of “writing the islands,” which Matt Bell discusses in Refuse To Be Done, a craft book I’ve been finding very useful.

For a while, I’ve been moving forward chronologically, which has been helping me hit word counts, but I’m now feeling that jumping around to different islands may be what the manuscript wants at the moment. I’ve found it very freeing on the project to feel like I can switch between these two approaches.

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Until next time,

-Carver

When we left off, Alice had fallen down the rabbit hole and was just getting her bearings. You may notice production value has improved greatly since last time.

For free subscribers: you are able to redeem one free premium article.

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where’s the craic ??

I’ve been consuming a lot of Irish media over the past couple of weeks. The creator of the much beloved show Derry Girls, Lisa McGee, has a new show out called How to Get to Heaven from Belfast. It’s a murder mystery, after a fashion, centering on a group of four childhood friends who slowly uncover one of their members dark past via their misadventures. Like Derry Girls, Belfast has a keen sense of humor and really strong characters. While in some ways the shows are quite different, it’s not difficult to tell that they’ve grown out of the same mind.

Another source for some good craic is the novel The Rachel Incident, by Caroline O’Donoghue, which I finished reading after several weeks of dipping in and out of it. The story of O’Donoghue’s novel also centers around a friendship. This time between a young woman at the end of her english degree and her closeted BFF James Devlin. The story chronicles their life living together and struggling to get a start entering adulthood on the back of the financial crisis of the late aughts. I won’t get too into the plot details here, because it’s a lot of fun to watch it all unfold and, more often than not, take you by surprise. It’s quite a funny book, and Rebecca and I had several laugh out loud moments in the sections I read aloud to them.

While the main drivers of The Rachel Incident and Belfast are romantic entanglements and murder respectively, they're both built on a foundation of friendships. This is something that I think I can sometimes overlook when I’m working on my own projects. Part of me wonders whether there’s something American about that in me. So many of my friends are scattered across a vast empire and I don’t get to see most of them nearly as often as I’d like. And, if you haven’t heard, it can be difficult to make new friends once you’ve left school. I could be completely wrong about this, but I get the sense that this may be different in a country like Ireland. It’s a relatively small place, and there were several moments in Belfast that seemed to suggest even when you live in different cities, it’s not all that difficult to get around. And it’s a common theme in a lot of Irish fiction I’ve read—that the entire country can feel like a small town. To me, America can sometimes feel like the opposite. An entire country that feels like the entire world.

All that to say, increasingly, in my writing, I find myself preoccupied less with the company of others and more with themes of isolation, while simultaneously questioning whether that makes interesting fiction. I suppose it remains to be seen. Maybe this says a lot more about me than it does about my country. Still, when I consume Irish media, I get the sense that there’s an undercurrent of an easy sense of community that has gone out of style in American culture.

I think this idea can be reduced to a single word: craic. Pronounced “crack,” craic is defined as “a term for news, gossip, fun, entertainment, and enjoyable conversation.” All one need do is ask “what’s the craic,” to enter into conversation.

I don’t mean to be reductionist, especially not about a country I’ve never been to. And I’m sure there’s plenty of great American fiction about friendship. I’m speaking broadly about my own experience. But what I do know is that if you ask someone in America about the craic, they’ll have no idea what you’re talking about.

wip updates

First Draft Word Count: 47,127 (+1,739 since last week)

I’m making steady progress on my first draft. After my reflections last week, I’ve been putting a little less pressure on myself to hit my daily word count as long as I am doing some writing. That means that I’m a little bit behind on my word count goals, but I also feel better about what I’m doing.

As I mentioned, my current word count goal is 90,000 words. While I think that’s a good goal, I think for now I’m going to proceed as though it’s okay if I don’t hit that exactly. Honestly, I think I’ll feel good so long as I hit above 70,000 words for this draft, which gives me quite a bit of wiggle room. Why stress myself out and produce less polished writing for an arbitrary goal that has no real weight outside of my own head?

I’ve also spent some time thinking about possible titles after realizing last week that the title I had been using is taken. I’ve come up with a few options, though I don’t love any of them. I’m having trouble replacing the current title in the document with anything, which I think is a sign that I haven’t quite found it yet. Obviously there’s still time, but I really like to have a title I’m happy with as soon as I can. It helps me feel like I know what the book/story is.

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Until next week,

-Carver

WIP Updates

First Draft Word Count: 45,388

I am trudging along in my first draft. It was nice to pass the 40,000 word mark recently, which made it feel like I was in Proper Novel territory.

In a slight setback, I randomly discovered that the title I have been using for this project is the title of a decently well known collection of personal essays from 2020. I’ve been thinking of the book using this title for a while now and I like it. I think it’s a good title and suits the novel well, so that has felt pretty disappointing.

But—I’m trying to see this as an opportunity to find something even better. I have wondered in that past whether the title I had chosen was eye catching enough or told you enough about what the book is about. So maybe it was meant to be.

My goal for this draft is 90,000 words, which I suppose means I’m about halfway through. However, I’m also feeling skeptical about my ability to fill in the rest of those words. I’m currently torn between pushing on through and reevaluating in a second draft or adjusting my word count goal way down for this draft.

My instinct is to push through, but I want to be careful to not bully the work into what I arbitrarily think it should be instead of listening to what it’s saying it wants to be.

I’m curious if anyone else has dealt with something similar?

Films I’m Watching

I’ve been watching some Oscar films in anticipation of this weekends awards.

I finally got around to watching One Battle After Another, and thought it was great. Initially I wasn’t so sure Leo was the right casting, but I thought he did a great job, particularly in the second and third act.

I thought it brought up some interesting questions about activism and reminded me that although things feel (and definitely are) particularly scary in the United States at the moment, what’s going on is only a heightening of trends that have existed for decades.

To further remind one’s self of that fact, one need only watch the other two movies I watched this past week: the documentaries The Alabama Solution and The Perfect Neighbor. The former shows us the squalor of Alabama prisons, and the latter takes us through a nightmare criminal case involving stand your ground laws in Florida.

While watching these movies is inevitably going to bring up a lot of anguish, anger and possibly despair, there’s also something refreshing to me about bearing witness to the injustice’s in our country that predate and will persist beyond the Tr*mp era.

These films zoom in on specific injustices. Doing so allows the viewer to imagine how one might begin to fight for a better world.

I highly recommend checking out both of these films, especially The Alabama Solution, even if you can’t get around to it before the Academy Awards.

Bedtime Story

Last week I introduced a paid subscriber perk in which I included a ten minute reading from a classic novel, beginning with Alice in Wonderland that you can listen to as a sleep aid, or really at any other time of the day.

I included this perk at the end of last weeks post behind a paywall. As an unintended consequence of this, it made it so only paid subscribers could comment. To avoid this, I’m going to try to start sending this perk out as a separate post on Sunday evenings.

I’m also going to include last weeks clip here for free so unpaid subscribers can get an idea of what it’s like.

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Until next week,

-Carver

I’m feeling like a bad writer today. Having lots of self doubting thoughts. You probably know the ones: is anything that you’re writing actually any good? Is literally anyone going to care about this? Are you putting in all of this work for nothing? Isn’t making art kind of selfish and ultimately meaningless? Have you based your life’s work thus far on an outdated childhood fantasy? Wouldn’t it be easier to just quit right now and move on to other easier things?

Later on, when I am feeling more resilient and have gotten better sleep, I will have good answers to these questions. But at this very moment, I have no such answers. Not ones that feel deep down like they are true. Not really. All I have at the moment are memories of being here before, memories of getting a good nights sleep and feeling better in the morning. I suppose for the time being, that will have to be enough.

Even as I write this newsletter, more thoughts are emerging. They are saying: there’s no point of writing this newsletter. No one will read it. No one will care. It will come off as whiny and unpolished and unfocused. You haven’t published in months. Are you even going to address that? Is this just another failed project? More proof that you can’t commit to anything? What are you offering here? What value are you adding to someone’s life by writing this?

I met George Saunders last week.

He talked about being a young writer and being unsuccessful. Having self doubt. Writing a terrible book.

It’s nice, I imagine, to have the second half of that story to tell. The part where you publish stories in the New Yorker. Where Tom Hanks wants to be in the movie they’re making of your book.

But I suppose he didn’t always have that second half.

I guess that’s the thing about stories. If you stop telling them, you might never get to the good part.

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Thanks for reading. To accompany this informal relaunch of Personal Objects, I’m including a new section at the bottom for people who choose to support me and my writing by becoming a paid subscriber.

I will continue to publish the main body of Personal Objects for free. However, I will now include at the bottom of each newsletter, behind a paywall, ten minutes of me reading from a classic (read: royalty free) novel.

When I was a kid, my dad always read to me before bed. So, the idea is that you will listen to this recording as something of a bedtime story. However, you may choose to listen to it at any time of day you like.

I’ve chosen Alice in Wonderland as the inaugural classic.

I hope you enjoy.

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Maybe more on that in the future. But, for now, let’s not over complicate things. I’ve missed these little updates/book reviews. I’m glad to be back doing them. Hopefully one or two of you are glad too.

When I first came across Oprah’s book club pick Dream State, I was all: omg!—and not only because of my passion for punny titles or books set in Montana.

I was excited because I took a class in undergrad from the author, Eric Puchner. What an honor! For Eric of course, but also for me! Finally, Oprah has found a way of communicating with me.

In all seriousness, how cool to see someone I know find success.

So, pretty much as soon as I could, I picked it up at the ol’ local bookstore.

And only that, I also read it(!)

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Dream State is a sweeping novel. A couple is about to get married at the groom’s Montana cabin. The first part of the novel concludes with the bride leaving her new husband for his down and out best friend, an opponent of marriage who had been assigned the low-stakes job of officiant.

As rest of the novel unspools over the course of the rest of these characters lives, it asks you to confront the varied misfortunes and mortifications of, life small and large. Career dissatisfaction, climate change, loss, childhood illness—these are all things a reader will encounter in Puchner’s novel.

As a result, the reader generally gets the sense that these characters are pretty miserable. The book seems to ask the question, does all of this misfortune come back to the original sin of the novel: the newly married Cece leaving her new husband Charlie for his best friend. Would the other life have been a happier one?

In answer, Puchner provides us in the final chapter with the speech Garrett improvises at his best friend’s wedding, in which he presents this very alternate future. Having just gone through what actually ends up happening, the reader sees the alternate future presented here as what it is. Not a better life, just a different one. Here, Puchner seems to say that we don’t get to avoid or choose our misfortunes—all we can do with the lives we find ourselves with is to live them.

The jumps in time that occur in this book was a departure from the more zoomed in books I've been enjoying recently. I found myself wanting to spend more time during certain periods only to be whisked away, usually years into the future. Which is, of course, a familiar feeling. Time moves forward whether we like it or not.

I’m writing this post in a coffee shop that was recently overhauled and rebranded. It had been my favorite coffee shop. Close to our house with some of my favorite coffee. When I visit now, I can't help but feel a sense of loss. A surprisingly profound one for… a company. Still, is this not the thing we must learn again and again?

What I wouldn't give to linger a little longer in the old benches, drink from those same cups. What Puchner knows is that we don't get to go back. We don’t get to change the past. All we can do is to make the best of what we have. Whether we like it or whether we don't.

Usually in this newsletter, I talk about books and writing and make ham-fisted attempts to relate that to my broader life. Today, I’m going to do something a little different—but not really all that different.

I hesitate to write about *gestures broadly* the state of things. I want there to be some sacred spaces free from the noise. So, I’m not going to talk about any specific noise. I also question the relevance to this newsletter. But I’ve decided that ultimately, what I want to write about here is what’s on my mind. And this has been on my mind.

The other day, a writer friend asked me whether the *gesturesbroadly* stateofthings has been getting in the way of my writing.

I’ve surprised myself the past month or so. I would have expected that my countries government falling into the hands of the people I trust it to least would be bothering me more than it has been. In large part, I would have expected this because that’s what happened last time. During Trumps first term (anyone else remember that?) I frequently felt almost constantly many negative emotions. This time, I’ve felt fewer more infrequently.

Am I just numb? Am I being passive? Have I given in? What has changed for me, since last time?

Below, I’m going to share some reasons that I think this is the case. These are not really my insights, but insights I’ve absorbed from various sources, but especially buddhist teachers like Thich Nhat Hanh.

I want to acknowledge that these are not prescriptive, and that I’m speaking from a seat of immense privilege. They may be seem helpful or insightful for you, or they may not. What I’m saying isn’t that they are perspectives you must adopt. I’m only sharing perspectives that I’ve adopted with the goals of 1. calming my mind and 2. making positive impacts on the world. You may know of other perspectives that work better for you. If so, I’d love to hear them.

1. I’m accepting impermanence and uncertainty.

Civilizations don’t last forever. Relatively speaking, they don’t even last all that long. Dark ages emerge. Totalitarians take power for a while. This is not my preference. But I accept it as true.

This means the dark ages don’t last forever either.

I also don’t know when the golden age begins or ends, as much as it might seem clear. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow or what a hundred years from now will look like.

I notice sometimes when I’m scrolling the news that I’m looking for a story that says: everything is going to be okay, actually!

2. I’m acknowledging there isn’t much I can do.

I am a single entity. As such, I have limited influence on my surroundings. I have limited control. Not no control. I do have some, but it is limited.

If a large oak tree is blown over by the wind, no amount of concern or awareness that the tree is falling will do either me or the tree any good.

If I run beneath the tree in an attempt to catch it on its way down, this will also help neither me nor the tree. The tree will still have fallen and I will be trapped underneath it.

If a crowd formed beneath the tree, I would join them, feeling confident that collectively we could probably catch the tree. But until then I will consider what course of action will be most useful.

3. I’m acknowledging there are some things I can do.

Once the tree has fallen, I do feel many things. Sadness, anger, anxiety. I would like for the tree to not have fallen. But, having accepted that the tree was never going to last forever, I am reminded that it had not existed forever. Someone who lived long before me chose to plant this tree. Its shade was so immense, this was easy to forget.

This knowledge helps me to recognize that my instinct—to hope that someone will walk by, scold the tree for falling, at which point the tree will push itself up and resume standing as it always did—is not very useful.

So, I think about whoever planted the tree, and, although I had other plans for the day, I begin to learn how to plant trees.

4. I’m resisting dogmatism.

It is possible that I am wrong. I don’t think I am, but I’ve been wrong before. It is possible that I am the victim of propaganda and things are not as bad as they seem. I think things are very bad, but I have been wrong.

This one is difficult. Which, I think, makes it important.

5. I’m taking a long view.

The challenges I hope to see humanity overcome—the degradation of earth-systems, xenophobia, intolerance, poverty, etc.—will require attention and effort long after Donald Trump is no longer in office. Long after he is nothing but memory and dust.

Actionable Offerings

I recognize that list is very theoretical and some of them are difficult to internalize, for me as well. So, for those of you who are like me and appreciate more concrete advice, I wanted to also offer some examples of how those insights are affecting my actions. Most of these ideas are also not my own. You may have encountered them elsewhere. I offer them again as a reminder and as a jumping off point.

• find the point for you where information moves from useful to paralyzing and set boundaries; enable screen time limits; subscribe to a physical newspaper—maybe a local one.

• choose a cause you’re passionate about and sign up for a class about it; there are people out there who know more than you and want to help you make a difference—find them; I am taking a class in Regenerative Economics which has been revelatory.

• look for community—like, actually; talk to real people in real life; taking a class is a good way to do this if it’s interactive; I’d still like to get better at this; once you have a community, or with the community you have, make good trouble.

In Other News

This week, I finished reading Broken Harbor by Tana French, a book about, among other things, the insidious, chilling consequences of a society left off balance by economic collapse.

I drank an Orange Cardamom Latte.

I went for a walk in the evening.

Wearing

I bought this jacket in Burlington in 2018 and haven’t worn it much since then, but the other day I was chilly and this is one of the warmer things I own.

What’s not to like about it?

Oversized. Cozy. Cow-in-hat.

I don’t often feel as at-home in work-wear type outfits, but I want to remember that I have this when I’m in the mood.

Watching

Not to be rude, but if you haven’t seen Severance, I would highly recommend it.

Reading

As I mentioned last week, I’m listening to Broken Harbor by Tana French. This week, my takeaway is:

Titles don’t have to be fancy.

By fancy, I guess I mean thematic.

When I’m thinking about a title, I notice I often ask myself: what do I want someone to take from this? It’s usually a theme.

What I like about Tana French titles, Broken Harbor, as an example, is that they seem simple, but are often a symbol.

The book takes place in Brian’s Town, a new development left nearly abandoned after the 2008 housing crisis. Brian’s Town was built on top of what used to be a low income neighborhood called…Broken Harbor.

Broken Harbor is a symbol for the books thematic question: If you play by the rules in life, can you avoid chaos and violence?

The book is also about how the past can catch up with you, how the ruling class takes advantage of the working class, what justice looks like—whether it’s clean cut or complicated. The title encapsulates all of these ideas.

I’m working on a project (I can’t say it’s a book because that would jinx it) that needs a title, and this is certainly something I’ll be keeping in mind.

My working title at the moment is: What Light, à la ‘what light through yonder window breaks,’ which is exactly the kind of thematic, vague, wishy washy kind of title I’m talking about.

Not that this is the only way to title something, of course. But it is one way.

See you soon.

Hello friends.

This week, I came up with a great title for today’s newsletter. It came to me in a moment of divine inspiration. It was perfect. A little confrontational, a take just hot enough to get people to click, an opportunity for an interesting photo as the thumbnail. I could see the likes and subscribers rolling in. Finally my ticket to Newsletter celebrity had arrived! What was this brilliant title you ask? Strap in! Alright, here we go: ‘you don’t have to be aesthetic all the time.’ Pretty good, right? Or actually it might not be good. Whether it’s a good or not is sort of beside the point.

What’s interesting about my idea for that title is that the next day, I took the above photo of my breakfast. I couldn’t help myself. It was just such a vibe. Such an aesthetic. Right after thinking I was such a genius for proclaiming aesthetics don’t matter. Here I was. Being extremely aesthetic. What a hypocrite.

So what to make of this, I ask myself. I guess, clearly, I was responding to the draw towards the aesthetic in myself. The person to whom I am saying ‘you don’t have to make everything aesthetic’ is myself. Groundbreaking stuff, I know.

With more thought, I think that I could revise this title to be about the merely aesthetic. I think I was responding to the thing on the internet where aesthetics are sort of all that matter. An instagram account has a million followers due to vibe alone.

But again, I run up against an issue. I really enjoyed this breakfast. And a big part of my enjoyment came from how nice it looked.

Personally, I enjoy the curation of the beautiful, or at least the aesthetic. To me it feels like a lifelong task of refinement. Winnowing down my tastes to only the most pleasant imagery. Being conscious about what I consume feels like mindfulness to me. If I invest in things that I'm in love with aesthetically, I will care for them more fastidiously than something unattractive, which also feels environmental to me. But, because we live in a complicated world, there's a mirror world to these reasonings.

Obsessing over aesthetics can lead one to overconsumption and thoughtlessness, especially in our culture of micro-trends where labor and materials are as cheap as air. I see it every day online. I’m sure you do too, dear reader. I can say all I want about mindfulness, but wouldn't mindfulness teachers be the first to say that attachment to anything for any reason is ultimately a path toward suffering?

But, I’m tempted to give myself a little credit. So let’s say my interest in aesthetics isn’t merely a symptom of my inherently vapid nature.

I think what I'm associating with aesthetics is larger than visual beauty. I think it has to do with a kind of wholistic depth which is affected by an items quality and its history as much as its beauty. Remove any of these factors and an item becomes less appealing. Let’s look at my breakfast’s presentation. Beyond the visuals.

The tray was one of the last things I was able to rescue from my grandmas house before the estate sale. The bowls I was eating out of were handmade by me a couple of weeks earlier. The mug was also from my grandmothers house, sporting a faded logo of the university I attended. The magazine was one filled with high quality writing about our world. Had the tray been from Target, or the bowls made of plastic and yet looked exactly the same, I wouldn have enjoyed the visuals much less. The curation of this moment in my life had sated a hunger in me, and not just because of the breakfast that was a part of it. The quality and meaning of these items had inspired in me a reverence commensurate with the miracle of existence that should objectively exist within us at all times. In this way, my pursuit of aesthetics, when coupled with other sources of meaning, did for me what only great art can do. It woke me up.

I think this is a process that has been happening in my reading and writing life as well—an increased standard for what I produce or consume. I’m trying to pay attention to the inner voice that tells me whether or not something is worth my time. To trust myself in the present rather than clinging to (hang on for this) what I think that other people think I should be reading or writing.

I'm not all the way there. It's a process, like I said. A process of refinement. Of understanding myself, my tastes, what’s important and interesting. It’s a process that will never be complete. Like a cloud—a process of accumulation and subsequent shedding, releasing its weight, until it seems to disappear.

Only to gather again.

In other news, I’m trying to devote more time to actually writing, which was going really well and now is going just okay? I’ve been trying to work on writing related things for 4 hours a day. Maybe that’s too much? We’ll see. There have also been a few things that have taken up some time over the past couple of weeks. Mostly good things, like celebrating my 7th anniversary with my partner <3

Speaking of my partner, they just started a Substack where they will share trivia questions based on things they learned during the week. How fun does that sound!

Check out if you agree :)

I’m also in a minor reading slump, but am back to listening to Tana French’s murder squad books. I am on Broken Harbor, and enjoying it as much as her other books.

I made the mistake of thinking I could finish this post in one day and here I am finishing it almost a week late so thanks for bearing with me as I figure out a good schedule for me.

I hope things are going well in your corner of the world.

Talk soon.

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I've been having some trouble writing this week's newsletter.

"What possibly could be getting in the way of my literary genius?" I ask myself. Sure, I'm a little bit rusty. It's been a few months since I was showing up here regularly. Isn't it natural for it to take a little time to get back in the swing of things?

“Yeah, maybe for OTHER people,” I say to myself, “but I shouldn't be constrained by the limitations of mere mortals!”

So, it must be something else.

I guess part of it might be that it feels a little frivolous to be typing up my silly little newsletter about my silly little books and my silly little thoughts and feelings when there are capital ‘R’ Real things happening in the world. And I guess part of me feels drawn to write about that.

To declare that it might be time to go 18th century France all up in here.

Say, to some idiotic Tr*mp voter in Oklahoma: "hey fuckhead—if you fell down, every trans person I know would help you back up, and every donny and elon and jeff would cut your legs off and sell them back to you with interest."

But that would be a little out of voice for Personal Objects. We're a class act here.

And this isn't a political newsletter.

By which I mean, it does not concern itself with the overstory—congress and elections and laws. Nor even the understory—movements and ideology and information technologies. Here, we aim at to roots—love and grief, compassion and fear.

This is the hope of art, as I see it.

We engage so we might get ready to recognize in ourselves the seeds of generosity and cynicism, hope and despair and learn which patches of soil to fertilize. Which ones to cut back.

We practice this so when the time comes to choose, we don't even hesitate. We know what to do. We’ve read about this, somewhere, in a book.

My grandmother had this blue potato bush which she had brought to california from South Dakota as a cutting from her uncles garden.

Soon before she passed, my own uncle (her son) transplanted a new cutting of this decades old bush into a terracotta pot in her backyard. It did well there for a few weeks.

Then, in the weeks after she died, it began to lose its flowers. Its leaves grew pale and yellow and many of them fell off.

The week before we had an estate sale at her house, I drove the cutting the hour or so drive from her house to mine, and I worried. Would this plant that my grandmother had kept alive for decades die in the first few weeks that it was in my care?

I wanted to do whatever I could to save it. I did some research and came to the conclusion that it had been overwatered by the gardeners and just needed to be watered less frequently. Which was terrible news because it meant the only thing I could do... was nothing.

I didn't want to do nothing. I wanted to fight back against the too damp soil. I wanted to do surgery on the trunk, apply ointments to the leaves.

But this, apparently, would not help. Would, actually, hurt(!!).

So I did the hardest thing of all. I waited out the illness. I paid attention to the soil. I paid attention for signs that things were getting worse.

I think it's important to remember that there are times when doing anything outside of going about our lives and waiting while we pay attention can actually cause harm. Patience can be a form of healing.

When we got back from our winter holiday, the rest of the leaves had fallen off of the bush. But in their place, new leaves were sprouting.

Be back in touch soon.

You stand by a Nevada highway. The sun sets behind mountains. Pink and gold light dapples the opposite hills. The silence is somehow large. On the ground, you see knives.

My 2024 ended with a three day drive through many of these United States. It felt like a good way to end a year and start a new one. Seeing new sights, reminding yourself that you live in a vast yet traversable world.

In light of the new, though already aging year, I thought I’d do a quick in and outs for me.

(though this isn’t exactly an uncommon practice, including my ins and outs was inspired by ’s wonderful Substack—Dear Diary).

2025 INS/OUTS

In

Journaling, buying journals, chess on phone, chess in life, soup in fridge, regenerative economics classes, pottery, George Washington biographies, exercising but fun, holy matrimony, art in weird places, enamel cups, cool rocks, zines, consistent bedtimes, tea. Oh, and Substack.

Out

ai, my grandparents dying, dread, linear economies, overthinking, gas stoves, twitter clones.

STICKY BOOKS

Furthermore, in the spirit of the new year, I’ve put together a list of the books I read in 2024 that have and I expect will continue to stick with me.

They are, in the order that I read them:

Leonardo da Vinci by Walter Isaacson

You’re telling me this guy could draw a picture and did math too? Extremely impressive, to be honest.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

High school is rough. And it’s also so good. This book feels like one of those almost magical books that touches at something particular and universal. It reminded me to not be so pretentious.

Stoner by John Williams

Good stuff. Compelling to read even though there wasn’t a lot going on. It isn’t the perfect book that some people say it is, but at the same time i do wish there were more books like it. Every time I try to critique it, I end up realizing another reason I liked it.

In the Woods by Tana French

I read a lot of Tana French this year. This is her first book. I wasn’t drawn into it especially quickly, but it is going to linger with me for quite some time. I love it when books toe the line between genre and literature, which her books do for me.

Intermezzo by Sally Rooney

I’m actually really unique for being a Sally Rooney stan and I appreciate everyone acknowledging that. Shoutout to the swag bag I got for pre-ordering. And shoutout to me for getting into chess like a month before this came out without even knowing this had chess in it. More to come on this I’m sure.

Refuse to Be Done by Matt Bell

One of the more practical books on writing I have come across.I sought it out for guidance on revision, but it has lots of good drafting advice too. I keep referring to it when I feel stuck and it hasn’t failed to be helpful.

SOLVENCY

A resolution, it occurs to me upon examination of the word, is a re-forming of something that has succumbed to a solvent. In other words, new year’s resolutions are a recommitment to something that has dissolved. Such as one’s commitment to publishing a newsletter, hypothetically.

Many solvents arose in my life this last year that eroded many of my commitments. But in the spirit of the new year, I’m working on resolving many of them.

Is trying to make New Years resolutions sound a little less basic working at all? No? Alright, I’ll stop.

You’ll be seeing me in your inbox every week, starting today. The value I’ll get out of this will be a space to hold myself to account for my media consumption as well as my creative work. You, I hope, will find this at least mildly interesting, as I find other people’s posts about that interesting.

I hope you’ve had a decent start to the New Year.

I’ll see you soon.

I’m trying to be less self-critical, so let’s assume this instinct wasn’t about money or career or anything like that. Was in fact an early finger of exploratory grief, prodding reality into a new shape.

Something lost. What? Something very valuable. Unique. Foundation of some kind or other. No difference in front of me. What then? Where?

If I’m honest with myself, there’s no reason to subscribe to this newsletter with money. I know that. And I’m fine with that at the moment. I don’t publish paid only posts. I don’t offer anything anyone wouldn’t survive without. Haven’t published anything in months. The only reason someone would press that upgrade button would be to tell me something.

Something like I love you. Something like I’m proud of you. Something like keep going! Something like good job! Something like I’m watching and want to very much.

Something only one person has exactly said.

Recently I made my phones Lock Screen Mary Oliver’s poem The Summer Day, which includes the line, “doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?”

Hasn’t felt more true than it has lately.

Thanks for reading.

And thanks, grandma, for saying whatever it was you were saying.

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I love a good time travel plot, however, I felt like this could have used more… how to put it? Let’s just say wobbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff. The characters seemed pretty unconcerned with the logistics of it all.

That was a bit disappointing to me, which is maybe why it took me a while to get through.

Takeaway

That being said, I think there’s something to learn from every book.

The thing I’ll take away from this one, I believe, is that sometimes to create something just new and interesting enough, all you have to do is combine two things. This is a romance novel, but it’s also, a fantasy novel. Or at least magical realism.

There are plenty of fantasy novels with a dash of romance, but the romance novel with a dash of fantasy is a new one for me, and I think it’s a cool spin on the genre. I’m sure it’s not the first novel to do this (come to think of it, I feel like The Notebook does something similar, though I haven’t read or watched it). But it was original enough for me to want to buy it, and that’s not nothing.

So, I guess I’ll get back to my sci-fi poetry collection based on Hamlet.

(that was a joke, but then again…)

See you soon.

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I approach this week’s post battered bedraggled, knotted and gnarled from a month of traversing up, down, up and down again the western coast of these united states. I have seen the blond plains and frosted mountains of California’s vertical breadth, the rich foliage and glorious rivers of Oregon’s edge, and I have simmered and sweat in the summer sun of my own home state—Washington.

But, I wanted to get a post out to you, my faithful readers. So I was faced with a choice. I could either leave you hanging (which I know would disappoint you greatly), or I could have a guest writer join me this week.

You may have heard of the guest I had in mind: ChatGPT.

Yes yes, I know I know.

Let me be clear: I don’t plan on using AI to write my posts, especially without telling you. I don’t think any writer should do that, for a lot of reasons. There are the ethical questions about AI and plagiarism. Not to mention the simple fact that I read the writers that I read because I want that direct connection to their minds. I want our thoughts to intermingle with one another and see what they produce. To use AI is to corrupt that fundamental premise.

But—we’re entering a world where things won’t be so simple. And what if—in addition to all of it’s problems—these new advanced machine learning tools are just that—tools that make our lives easier and more pleasant? At what point does using AI enter into these grey areas? What are we comfortable with? What are we not comfortable with? I think it’s important to ask.

So, let’s start somewhere I know that I am not comfortable with and I know you won’t be either.

In the next post, I want to look at the AI question a little more closely using the following generated text.

The prompt I gave ChatGPT was this:

Breaking Through the First Sentence: A Journey into "Stoner"

In my last post, I shared my struggle with beginning the novel Stoner by John Williams. The opening sentence seemed simple enough: “William Stoner entered the University of Missouri as a freshman in the year 1910, at the age of nineteen.” However, despite its straightforward nature, I found myself hesitating to dive in. Today, let's dissect this unassuming start and see what it reveals about the story and why it might have posed such a challenge for me.

The First Sentence

“William Stoner entered the University of Missouri as a freshman in the year 1910, at the age of nineteen.”

On the surface, this sentence is a clear and factual introduction. It sets the stage, providing a time and place, and introduces the protagonist, William Stoner. But why is this significant?

Setting the Stage

The year 1910 places us in an era of transition. The early 20th century was a time of great change in America, socially, politically, and technologically. By pinpointing this specific year, Williams immediately grounds the reader in a historical context that is essential for understanding the character’s journey and the societal backdrop against which his life will unfold.

A Simple Beginning

This opening sentence doesn’t shout for attention. There are no dramatic flourishes, no immediate conflicts. Instead, it offers a simple, almost mundane fact: a young man is starting college. This reflects the novel's broader narrative style, which focuses on the quiet, often overlooked aspects of life. It suggests that Stoner's story will be one of subtle, incremental changes rather than grand, sweeping events.

The Everyman Protagonist

By introducing William Stoner in such a plain manner, Williams hints at his character's ordinariness. Stoner is not a larger-than-life hero; he is a common man. This is crucial because it sets the tone for a novel that explores the profound within the mundane. Stoner’s life is representative of many lives—ordinary, yet filled with their own unique struggles and triumphs.

Why the Hesitation?

Reflecting on why I had trouble starting the novel, I realize that this opening sentence didn’t immediately grab me because it seemed too quiet, too ordinary. In a world where we’re constantly bombarded with sensational stories and dramatic beginnings, a sentence like this can feel underwhelming. But that’s precisely the point. *Stoner* asks the reader to slow down, to pay attention to the small, significant moments that make up a life.

Embracing the Quiet

After pushing through my initial hesitation, I found that the quiet power of *Stoner* lies in its detailed portrayal of an ordinary life. The opening sentence is a perfect microcosm of the novel’s style and themes. It challenges us to find meaning and beauty in the everyday, to appreciate the nuanced experiences that define us.

So, if you, like me, found the opening sentence of *Stoner* a bit too understated, I encourage you to embrace its quiet simplicity. Give it a chance to unfold at its own pace. You might just find that the story it tells is richer and more profound than you expected.

In my next post, I’ll delve deeper into Stoner's character and the ways in which his journey at the University of Missouri shapes his life. Stay tuned for more reflections on this quietly powerful novel.

What did if feel like reading that? Was it boring? Was it obviously AI? Was it surprisingly… fine? I’ll think about this too and report back. (Maybe with more of my real thoughts on Stoner).

See you soon.

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