Someday I’ll write the essay about the moment I asked bell hooks why she chose to live in Berea, KY when she could be anywhere in the wild world. Quite simply: Her response profoundly helped me then as a diasporic writer struggling very diasporically in Ohio, to live well.

My morning was spent in deep meetings & comms w cis & trans Black women writers on healing cooptation & spiritual misunderstanding. All I can share is that the books on the 22 &23 horizon are being tested by fire. This is a pandemic era yes but there are writers emerging aflame.

My teen nephews asked me for dating advice: “Tita, tell me what to do. She’s pinned me.” Like against a wall? “No. Tita. PINNED me. At the top.” Of what? “Her phone. I’m pinned so she never misses a message from me.” Oh! I have a mom’s group thread pinned in my phone.

As they both exit, it’s hard not to imagine Joan and bell musing what we are going to do with what they built.

My feminist, literary, and religious godmothers have all died in the span of one month. Who wrote this closing.

May the unvaxxed be visited by the Covid ghosts of past, present, and future tonight.

After nearly 8 consecutive days of gatherings, I am home by myself with no one around asking, crying, begging, requesting, wondering, needing anything from me. And friends, what I can say without exaggeration is that the silence is almost orgasmic.

For 2022, apply what you have learned: LEAN OUT.

I had to go to the bank to get something notarized. Next to me, an elderly woman stood in her social distanced line and told the teller loud enough for me to look over: “My two adult children died this year.” I’m out of words. I’m just going about the world as gently as I can.

In January, I decided to take a 6 mo hiatus. In that interim, a health issue manifested and I needed surgery and time to recuperate. This is my first post of 2022, mid-year. And what a year it has been. Just checking in to say: I’m well. I’m strong. I’m still here.

Books are more important than ever. Stories are more important than ever. Voice is more important than ever. Collective healing is more important than ever. Advocacy is more important than ever. Community is more important than ever. Do not hide. Get out there. Bring everyone.

I received an email from a Venezuelan feminist organizer abt the impact of my antho, Dear Sister: Letters from Survivors of Sexual Violence. The bleak world continues to bark hyperindividualistic instructions for healing. Remember, tho: translation across borders is medicine.

One of the most important practices of political transformation is allowing and accepting that people change. You don’t have to hold fast to what someone used to believe. Normalize evolution.

For the first time since 2019, I was on-site for a university talk with undergrads about publishing and writing. Ah, these students. SO bright. So earnest. My heart is a teacher. I want to do this more. There. I said it.

To converse with a beloved writer abt their craft is a privilege, but to converse with beloved writer who is also beholden to his communities & interrogates his own conscience is an honor. My deep gratitude for this exchange, Alex. @alexanderchee guernicamag.com/alexander-chee…

Tonight was absolutely stunning. The richness of the work. Secondary only to the mutual magic of love, respect, and care. Thank you for this memory.

The best of creative writing happened last night—a dialogue tooled w/ a disability justice frame, set for queer engagement btwn folx who use storytelling to worldbuild for themselves & the communities they are accountable to. Thank you aaww-nyc.bsky.social & The Connector brownroundboi (he/they/siya)

Witnessing the mass resignations from Guernica magazine this weekend, including the entire publishing team I assembled & created during my time there with co-publisher, madhuri sastry 🍂🍜🫖. I stand, always, with the artists who take collective action. With love & solidarity, LFB