A tiny piece of my tiny life recorded in my tiny notebook.
Michael McCormack’s new book began as a letter of complaint to his father, who was a world champion football player (Cleveland ftw! For once!), NFL coach, and hall of famer. As he wrote, though, it turned into something much bigger.
TLDR: I feel totally drained by social media. Scrolling through Facebook feels emotionally violent, right? The news is all alarming. No one is listening to each other. We’re too quick to break each other down, rather than the opposing argument.
It’s usually when we’re knee deep in the “Hey, I’m just over here trying to make it” that the universe’s timer goes off and something makes us slow down long enough to notice the chipping paint. The forgotten name. The muscle strained.
Writer Mimi Matthews talks about her own love affair with the Victorian era, how she balances research with crafting fiction, what she’s working on next, and which Bronte she would invite to a dinner party. Would you be able to choose just one?