Malorie Nilson

I wish I were a mouse

When writing my initial post, I had every intention of keeping with a schedule. However, there is something genuinely derailing about an exploded bathroom, water damage, and the two-week-long project of men parading through my home that I have suddenly found myself in. Suffice to say, the past week has been a bit of a mess. In lieu of my intended essay, I am instead giving you an update and an apology. I truly regret that I could not follow through on my best-laid plans. Life happens, and I am trying to be more forgiving of myself in moments like these instead of going for a ride down the shame spiral, as Marta Rose (Divergent Design Studios) calls it.1

This failure has been a good lesson for me early on in this process. My struggles with attention, memory, clock time, and an array of other things will happen whether there is a water damage emergency or not. It is unusual that strangers invade my safe space (they are the nicest people, and I do enjoy offering them snacks and drinks persistently). It is unusual to have to drop everything in my free time to meticulously obsess over tile because there is a persistent anxiety that I am going to pick something that I hate (how am I supposed to visualize what this will look like from one tile in a wholly demolished room?!). What will always exist is something. I still work hard at being on squirrel time2, I am sorry to say, and I fear that people will not stick around if I am most like myself—always eager but not always the best at sticking to a schedule. My form of radical self-acceptance these days is to be okay with not being for everyone.

Recently on Input/Output, Caitlin Kunkel wrote about project stacking. While I am not a TV/film writer, I am writing with Autism and ADHD3, and diversifying current projects resonated for me because I never know what will hit for my brain. I am actively working on several essays—dumping and refining; rinse and repeat. Summer Brennan introduced me to the five things essay through her work, and it has been a form I have been dedicated to visiting daily. Some of my essays will undoubtedly come from these explorations. I am excited to begin sharing them with you. While the Great Tile Crisis of 2023 continues, I will leave you with these resources so we can all think about the process of writing together.

I am truly grateful that you are here and reading this newsletter. It is unlike anything I have done online, unless you count operating an oddly successful secular witchcraft blog on Tumblr ten years ago as alike. Thanks for being my lab partner in crime.

Things I am reading:

– My friend and author A. J. Vrana4 sent me the book Witches, Witch-Hunting, and Women by Silvia Federici. It is a collection of essays that serves as an introduction to her longer work Caliban and the Witch. It also introduces new pieces about new forms of capital accumulation and witch-hunting in our time. It serves as a great primer, and as I have not yet read Caliban, I am glad to be starting here (accessibility is cool!).

– In April, I embarked on a simple walk into Mordor. My goal is to walk every day, and my motivation is that the only time I can listen to the The Lord of the Rings audiobooks is while I am trekking. I listened to Fellowship while I walked a couple of hundred miles last autumn. I am now over a hundred miles in and listening to The Two-Towers narrated by Andy Serkis. I had forgotten how much I truly loved the Ents when I first read this book as a ween. At fifteen, when I saw the film upon its release, I left the theater feeling sick with disappointment at how they were portrayed. Over time, and without revisiting the books, that feeling faded. Oh, but how reading these chapters again has changed that! I love Fangorn Forest, but honestly, I love Bregalad. He embodies such sorrow but still such joy at observing the forest and being within it. It reminded me of listening to Mary Oliver talk about how being in nature saved her life. I think she would have got on with Quickbeam. When the ents marched toward Isengard, it was such an emotional description (and Andy Serkis did such a good job narrating it) that I cried. Well, I laugh-cried because people that passed by would look at me with concern, and I would laugh at the absurdity of it all (also a good reminder that people can be so kind).

– It is a goal of mine to read more contemporary horror/dark fiction written by women and trans people. After just coming off of a delightful stay in House of Hollow by Kristin Sutherland, I decided to keep with a theme and am now reading Sisters by Daisy Johnson. I have only just begun, but it is already captivating, with an interesting style that lends itself well to immersing the reader in the sisters’ relationship and world.