This is real and thoughtful, and resonant probably for many. Elizabeth McCausland's story is so painful; our hopes can get very high before they are smashed. The despair you express is familiar and depressing. I suppose my response has been to tap into rebellion and think, "They can't have it!" But that takes, as the young say these days, a lot of emotional labor. This post is great, beautifully structured, and reminded me of a Marge Piercy novel. Thanks, Emma.
Oh Emma - what a gorgeous, thoughtful, wondrous piece of writing this is, and what incredibly hard questions you ask. I feel you so hard on bookstores - but as I saw someone else on IG say, used bookstores can fill that void because of the wholly different ethos of them and the way they're keeping alive something - many somethings - that we don't find in the everydayness of publishing.
My livelihood is tied so deeply with my refuges as well - reading most especially - and I find that whenever I'm feeling burnt out on it in some way, turning to an old favorite helps. I did a whole reread of many of Tamora Pierce's books this past winter, refusing to read anything for work in bed before sleep and just doing these rereads that brought me to that space of joy and pleasure that I felt reading and rereading those books as a kid. I don't know if that's something that would work for you, but yeah, just a thought.
But/and/also - I think the materiality of our situations as writers and thinkers is truly so tenuous and so frustrating, and seeing the way that art of all kinds is being painted as not only sort of worthless but as dangerous to boot is so discouraging, so dispiriting. Which is to say that while these feelings and stresses and sadnesses suck so hard, you are not alone in them. I'm sure you know that, but I just want to reinforce it. There are so many of us feeling this, and that--that not-aloneness--can be a refuge all its own <3.
Thank you for sharing your arduous journey with us all, Emma. Wishing you some unexpected moments of delight this week. If you ever want to stare at different waters and trees and rocks that are kinda like Maine but support different seafood, come out and we'll hang out.
This is real and thoughtful, and resonant probably for many. Elizabeth McCausland's story is so painful; our hopes can get very high before they are smashed. The despair you express is familiar and depressing. I suppose my response has been to tap into rebellion and think, "They can't have it!" But that takes, as the young say these days, a lot of emotional labor. This post is great, beautifully structured, and reminded me of a Marge Piercy novel. Thanks, Emma.
I love this rebellion. Ooh Marge Piercy, what a compliment
Oh Emma - what a gorgeous, thoughtful, wondrous piece of writing this is, and what incredibly hard questions you ask. I feel you so hard on bookstores - but as I saw someone else on IG say, used bookstores can fill that void because of the wholly different ethos of them and the way they're keeping alive something - many somethings - that we don't find in the everydayness of publishing.
My livelihood is tied so deeply with my refuges as well - reading most especially - and I find that whenever I'm feeling burnt out on it in some way, turning to an old favorite helps. I did a whole reread of many of Tamora Pierce's books this past winter, refusing to read anything for work in bed before sleep and just doing these rereads that brought me to that space of joy and pleasure that I felt reading and rereading those books as a kid. I don't know if that's something that would work for you, but yeah, just a thought.
But/and/also - I think the materiality of our situations as writers and thinkers is truly so tenuous and so frustrating, and seeing the way that art of all kinds is being painted as not only sort of worthless but as dangerous to boot is so discouraging, so dispiriting. Which is to say that while these feelings and stresses and sadnesses suck so hard, you are not alone in them. I'm sure you know that, but I just want to reinforce it. There are so many of us feeling this, and that--that not-aloneness--can be a refuge all its own <3.
The none aloneness is essential, thank you friend
I really enjoyed this. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your arduous journey with us all, Emma. Wishing you some unexpected moments of delight this week. If you ever want to stare at different waters and trees and rocks that are kinda like Maine but support different seafood, come out and we'll hang out.
Very moving story, Emma. To live without a refuge - what an ambition!
Thanks Doug. Or maybe just lots of refuges??
Emma, wow!!! This is magnificent. And boy, are you EVER a good writer.
Thanks Barbara!
Brilliant
Thanks Sarita 💙