Welcome to Midweek Dinner. There’s a whole story behind that name, something about the way Wednesday creeps up on you, and you have to cobble together a meal out of whatever you can scrounge from the fridge. And yes, sometimes there is talk of food in this place. But mostly it’s about what I’ve been reading, in print and online; or what I’ve been thinking, in clarity and confusion; or what I am hoping, in fear and in joy. And you are always invited to join in.
—— The best conversations take place around the dinner table. — —
For weeks on weeks now, I’ve been rising in the quiet of my own body, letting it decide when to begin anew. I don’t sleep late, usually 7 or 7:30 am. I simply let my system tell me what it needs. The morning birds are involved in this conversation, and the sun. I move from bed to bathroom to kitchen, drink my coffee, start my day. I eat when I want to. I walk when it’s sunny and stay in when it rains. I read, I iron. I cook and study. Eat lunch with my son. Chat with my daughter. Watch the birds, fold the laundry, tend the garden. And, I write.
All this week, the alarm clock has stirred my morning self at 6. The birds are there, sure, but the sun is not, and I am doing my best not to start my everyday channelling Bartleby, the Scrivener. I am forcing a new rhythm because I have a new job, and while that is a good and a right thing for now, it is also a hard thing.
There are way more decisions about clothing and way fewer moments to sit with pieces like this Amanda Gorman profile in Vogue or this excellent argument for restoring the Federal Writer’s Project1 from Clint Smith. More institutional nonsense and less sunlight soft through windows and way, way fewer sleeping cats. More chit chat with new colleagues and less time with my thoughts.
And, of course, less writing. So, forgive me for my silences when they come, please. Bear with me as I adjust to a new schedule. I’ll be here when I can be here.
The Department of Shameless Self-Promotion
Back with a few regulars this week, including this Lexicon post taken from an Alex Award winner (given to adult titles with YA appeal) from emily m. danforth. On its surface, it does not appeal to me, but it has been one of the surprise highlights of my year so far. Atmospheric and clever, Plain Bad Heroines is plain good.
Thanks as always for reading and thinking with me. If you have thoughts to share, just hit reply! I welcome your conversation and promise a response.