When the garden provides, but the writing well runs dry
Look at my cucumber! And more summer updates
This email is part of my Monthly Updates. It includes a little letter, my latest published stories, a mood board, and share-worthy links like what I’m reading and making. At the end, it also includes the freelance report for paid subscribers. This is where I share openly and candidly about the joys and challenges of being a freelance writer—such as how many stories I pitch, which publications accept my stories, how much money I make, what pitches got picked up, and more behind-the-scenes details. Thanks for reading!
In my garden slippers, I walked across the street to my neighbor Chris’s house because I could see her plucking weeds in her yard. She told me yesterday that I could come over whenever I wanted to harvest ripe figs from her tree. I could find a ladder in her shed. I told her I would, but the day got away from me. I had work and meetings and tennis. But when I came home that night, I noticed a line of brown plums on our fence. This morning I went over to thank her, and offer my jalapeños and cucumbers and squash in exchange. They’re not ready yet, but when they are I’ll bring some over, I told her. She said she’d like that very much. Before I walked back home, where my dog Kona was waiting on the porch, she handed me three carrots and three red potatoes, all still covered in dirt. I gave one carrot to Kona to munch on in the grass; the others I’ll wash and cook later.
Every morning since getting home from Japan, I put on my slippers and plod out to our garden beds. The grass is dead, but the garden is alive. I turn on the hose, careful not to get caught in a new spiderweb or squish its resident, and I quench the plants’ thirst. They like the “shower” setting best. Just the other day I noticed our first cucumber and sweet bell peppers, green and shiny. Each day they’re getting bigger and bigger, and the tomatoes are growing more and more.
This is what I’ve been doing instead of writing to you lately. I may be journaling more than ever before, setting the timer for 15 minutes and often far exceeding that, but whenever I arrive here, to a blank newsletter draft, I come up empty. I feel stuck. What is there to say? Life is good? The tomatoes are growing? Sometimes I wonder if my deep thoughts stopped when I started taking an SSRI. I feel, but not so deeply that I don’t know what to do but write. My worst fear used to be not having anything to write. To stare at a blank page and have nothing to say. If my worst fear has come true, why do I feel so at peace? So accepting?
My writing well will fill up again, and my garden will wilt. I know this is true because it has happened before. Nothing is permanent, everything follows cycles. For right now, I’m okay with not writing as much. Find me in the garden instead.
Be well,
Latest Stories
My first byline for Dwell, after many years of pitching them, is about Cannon Beach’s annual sandcastle contest. It rained the whole day and my boots filled with water, and it was kinda miserable, but it was all worth it. I loved working with the team there, and I got to meet fellow Portlander Christine Dong, who shot the photos, while on assignment.
My skills stories for Backpacker continue with how to sharpen a knife and how to identify a tree. I’m working on how to identify berries next.
A photo-heavy recap of the first part of my trip hiking in Japan. Part 2 coming soon.
Monthly Links
Reading: The Simple Path to Wealth by J L Collins is surprisingly engaging even though it’s about money. Our friend recommended it to Steve, and Steve recommended it to me, and now I’m someone who reads about investing.
Listening: I dip into the
podcast every once in awhile. I love whatever Avery Trufelman touches. This one about what clergy and priests wear, and the fashion of the Catholic church, has been fascinating.
Eating: For our joint birthday party, my friend Drew made me a chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting and raspberries on top, and I made Drew this Alison Roman cold carrot cake with cream cheese frosting (thanks, Haley, for the rec).
Playing: Flip 7. Get it for yourself, get it as a gift. Go play in the park.
Making: Painted striped frames and an apron out of a precious tablecloth. The embroidery says, “Come to my kitchen - chat with me while I prepare a pot of tea.”
Wearing: Right now I’m in Le Bon Shoppe socks (yes, even in the summer), handmade Ruffle Brunch pants, and a secondhand GAP button up.
July Mood
