Testing, testing

I thought I would hop on the substack train and have my very first post coincide with a big day for me. Today my first fiction publication is available online, you can read it here. Today I am also moving out of the Bay Area and starting a 7 day road trip to Iowa City where I will be for the next two years pursuing an MFA in fiction from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. There’s layers to this coincidence. Yes, big writing milestone same day as big writing/life transition. The story’s content is also inspired by something that mostly occurred in the apartment I’m leaving behind. The apartment has been so special despite of and alongside its heavy start. It’s the place I truly truly learned to be with and hold myself. I know we don’t leave anything behind. I know as life goes on we amass all that we feel, touch, speak, hear. We’re like that one river spirit in Spirited Away. Look how cute:

Yeah, we keep getting stinkier until someone pulls the plug and our bodies are separated from the mess we’ve picked up along the way.

At our best maybe we learn to just be with it all and remember what’s up and down. We try our best not to mistake someone else’s mess for our own or vice versa, but I think for many the blurring gets blurrier.

Anyways, I wanted to start a substack in an effort to be a bit less precious about my writing. I tend to neatly comb my stories over and over and over again before sharing them. Sweet friends like aegor have helped me to be a little more comfortable sharing the blurry, everything and nothing drafts. I thought what better way to start then as a mini blog for my writerly thoughts while I drive across the country.

My dear friend Yiann is joining me for the journey and we’re going to be caravaning with another friend and future IWW classmate Jeffrey. We’ll be stopping in Reno, Salt Lake City, Moab (Canyonlands and Arches !), Denver, and Omaha before arriving in Iowa City. If you have a favorite gas station, book store, milk shake, drive through movie theater, body of water, etc. in or around any of those places please share!

I have no idea how much writing I’ll do or if I’ll mostly be without service and crying in deserts and forests. Driving used to be the only place I could process my feelings. I would cry on car rides to high school and back and smile through the rest of my day. Maybe the spinning of wheels will dislodge the plug and I’ll hold my hands over my head like Sen in the image above. Or maybe I’m already swimming loosely in it all. Either way, I’m not leaving anything behind. I’m not really lightening my load. And yet, I feel I have so much room for more. I guess the stick too gets stickier.