The Longest Possible Sigh
Hello! It's been a while. Mainly because I've forgotten how to write in a way that's not (a) a Discord message, (b) a comment on a student's assignment, or (c) marketing copy. But I'd like to say hi anyway.
Because I haven't written anything for me in a while (beyond sometimes adding idea fragments that will never become anything to my "CREATIVE STUFF" note on my phone), I'm going to take this opportunity to share a few things I've been thinking about lately. This is for me, but maybe you will also get something out of it. Maybe not. If not, I am so sorry, and I hope you appreciated my saying hi anyway.
I have put almost no effort into "growing a following" on my Twitter alternate of choice, Bluesky. Sometimes I ramble into a librarian feed I'm in when I crave #engagement, but I otherwise don't really talk to people I don't already know (that said, you can totally follow me on Bluesky anyway). This means that Bluesky is typically where I toss my stray thoughts into the void. Thoughts like: hey, as someone currently casually looking for more lit mag reading gigs, why does your unpaid volunteer reader call ask for a resume and cover letter???
Look, I co-founded and ran a lit mag for a year and a half and made every possible mistake doing so (including not having a plan for financial stability, which is why we folded), but I think even then our vibe was more "you can attach a resume if you think that's what best shows your skills, but don't dox yourself if you don't want to!" Anyway, so many of these calls I've sifted through have required a resume and a cover letter in addition to a formal-looking application, all for a couple of hours of reading a week (or less) (in my experience it's usually less), and... for what? So you can make sure the people who read your mag's submissions all have MFAs? What's wrong with a text box encouraging a brief intro and maybe a summary of your relevant experience? Why do you need to know where I live and work? Why do I have to prove I'm a real person when the sum total of your mag's masthead is "Firstname wanders through the endless ether in search of stories that make them tremble with mirth"?
In the end, I just discard these calls and move on. It's fine. I'm fine.
Other, shorter things on my mind lately:
We're supposed to get our first major snow here tomorrow and I am not emotionally ready.
I'm about to start my last semester of library school, which means looking for jobs, and I am not emotionally ready.
I've started rewatching "House," a show that in some respects has aged wonderfully and in others has not aged well at all. I have a whole zine about asexuality that I scrapped (in favor of releasing the good parts in smaller doses) that goes into one sub-sub-subplot of "House" where he "disproves" a patient's asexuality. Plus there's some stuff about trans people that is not great. Plus [insert, I dunno, anything that was a go-to joke or storyline in the mid-2000s]. And yet!
Oh, I was kind of proud of this actually: I adapted a post I wrote about the "Recess" episode "First Name Ashley" into a presentation that I gave at my queer student org's PowerPoint Party this fall. I am terrible at giving presentations, but I think it went okay.
I went to New Zealand last month! It was my second time (I went in high school, so about four million years ago) but I am always just so stunned with how effortlessly beautiful the whole country is.
But "snow" has gotta have "no" in it for a reason, ri—