Hello there God,
Recently my Substack has seemed very uninteresting to me. In the past few months, I’ve settled into a groove of writing from my experiences (it’s what I know best and doesn’t require research) in a fun, somewhat lighthearted way. I’ve grown a lot from this: I can sit at a screen and bang words out and come up with a half-baked collection of words that’s good enough to publish. But I’ve also had this gnawing sense that I’ve developed past my current essays. I’m tired of writing trifles, I want to give me (and you) a real meal.
But I don’t know when that’s coming, and I’m IMPATIENT. It often feels like I’m waiting on things that are partially out of my control (ha, that’s life). I bang my head against the wall and freak out and then suddenly inspiration hits me out of nowhere: I figure out what I want to write about, I finally realize what’s wrong with the code I’m writing, I start actually doing things. And yes, there’s that whole quote about how hard work makes it easier for luck to strike, and how part of the game involves showing up every day, but waiting is also a part of the process.
I’m ready for my next writing development. Or my next meaningful tinkering. I miss having a project I care about again.
Yours,
Valerie
I just want to say that you writing about your trifles has been immensely meaningful to me. It's not as incoherent as random thoughts on social media but also relatable as someone in a similar age group and subculture. Hoping to see your next chapter soon but this is great too!