Bookish

I don’t feel like I’m the most well-read. There was a period of time where I was proud of the lists that I had of every book I’d ever completed, and while my podcast obsession would hint that I could probably read scores of books if I listened to them, paying for them again, after I’ve already had them sitting on shelves for months, just doesn’t sit right with me.

I used to be really proud of how well-rounded and well-read I was. Then it turned into a kind of desperate need: I knew people would ask me about a book, I wanted to be able to remember intricate details in it, the names and exact lines of dialogue, ready at a moment for anything someone might ask me.

Maybe it’s the vastness of social media, but I no longer feel a need to read everything out there. I was told once in school that I liked to luxuriate in literature, and I do. Because of this, if something doesn’t excite me the whole way through, then I’ve decided I’m no longer going to force myself to finish it.

I say this more for non-fiction, where I think the writers either over-explain for credibility or take forever to get to a point that could have been summed up in half the amount of pages, but done so that it becomes a full-length book, because length equates credibility.

That being said, I noticed that until I published my little collection of short stories, that I was placing that same kind of pressure on myself. I didn’t want to put anything “out there,” until I felt like it was “enough.”

I don’t think I’m worried about that anymore.

I don’t think I’m worried about people feeling my point has to be explained with a hundred extra pages or that I have to have very specific examples of everything I’m trying to convey. I can definitely offer a few analogies, but come on: aren’t books meant to get you thinking, versus do your thinking for you?

I’m tired of feeling like people are always explaining the obvious and I don’t want to treat people that way with my writing.

Self-publishing such an old collection of my stories has been a kind of vulnerability that I hadn’t experienced yet. I’m thankful for that. It’s shown me that if I can post whatever on blogs, statuses, captions, tiktoks, tweets—then I am allowed to compile things how I want into something tangible.

I like things organized. I have way too many sketchbooks and some are dedicated to specific media. I did this because the paper in each one is so wildly different, reacting to ink and water and paint in its own way, that I need to sometimes. The other reason is because I like to dedicate books to things.

I acknowledge that this also may be a way that I can show my own compartmentalization to myself, tangibly, visually.

One of the books that I’ve shown publicly is my first Onion Skin Journal, which had turned into a book dedicated to ink drawings and writing, with the self-given prompt to either pick a thing and find a way to represent it with adventure or whimsy, or find a thing that does this already for me. I have two other books that are similar, painted in and written with bits to dedicate to something that I felt needed dedication.

I realized afterward that this is something too, that I could publish. As well as the others, when they are completed. I felt pressure to redo parts and maybe I will, but it doesn’t mean that it isn’t worthy of being published somewhere.

I am feeling inspired by this and am working on them slowly but surely. I won’t be posting about them as much though, because I want their release and reveals to be special and I think sometimes people treat things they see rarely with more appreciation.

As far as a shop update: I’m working on completing little glimmer books (aka junk journals but what a bummer phrase), restocking my resin stabbies because I want people to stay sexy and not get murdered, and adding to the LGBTQ embroidered flag bouquets because I want to and like the idea of different flags being represented and available for folks.

I am excited about all of my ideas and plans. I notice that I struggle when it comes to putting things on the shop to sell, because I feel so nervous about how they’ll be received. But I am grateful for the supportive community I’ve found in this endeavor and look forward to seeing how this year unfolds.