The Good Stuff

because the bad stuff is getting plenty of airtime

Happy Monday, Friend.

I haven’t posted a good stuff round-up in a while—and frankly, the news feels like a relentless round-up of bad stuff, so I need to shift my attention. Last night was some very, very good stuff, between Bad Bunny’s joyful celebration of the Americas and Brandi Carlile’s moving performance of “America, the Beautiful.” I don’t know about you, but I needed that. My kids did, too.

What else is good these days? My birthday is this Friday, and my fifth book of poems, A Suit or a Suitcase, is out next month! Pre-ordering the book would be a perfect birthday gift, and you’ll get a gift of your own, too, while supplies last—a custom broadside of the title poem. If you bought a book with a ticket for one of my book tour stops, you’re also eligible. Just enter your information here!

Is there a subtle cloud print in the background of the broadside? Yes. I love it. Big thanks to the design team!

That opening couplet of “A Suit or a Suitcase” has me thinking a lot about my country right now.

You ask what I’ll miss about this life.
Everything but cruelty, I think.

The cruelty has been devastating to witness. We have a long way to go and a lot to learn—about ourselves, our history, and each other. In these harrowing times, I’m so grateful for writers, artists, and educators, and for their work—films, plays, books, and music—that teaches us about ourselves, our history, and each other, and that reminds us of what it is to be human.

Over the past couple of months, I’ve seen a handful of films that moved me to tears: Sentimental Value, Hamnet, The Testament of Ann Lee, and Armed Only with a Camera: The Life and Death of Brent Renaud. This is very good stuff. Essential stuff. And I can’t wait to see The Chronology of Water, an adaptation of one of my all-time favorite memoirs by Lidia Yuknavitch.

I’ve been trying to read more and doomscroll less. It’s so much better for my nervous system. Favorite recent reads: Melissa Faliveno’s terrific debut novel Hemlock (if you haven’t read her essay collection Tomboyland, I loved that, too!); Bianca Stone’s latest collection of poems, The Near and Distant World; and Tracy K. Smith’s latest, Fear Less: Poetry in Perilous Times. This is from Smith’s introduction:

“The intention of a poem—like a car, come to think of it—is to take you someplace. Into someone’s life or their psyche: their sense of wish or hope, revelation or regret. A stranger approaches, whispers in your ear—Hey, let me tell you what it was like—and proceeds to take you far beyond your known self and your intrinsic view of the world. In so doing they might also remind you of something new (or long forgotten) about who you are or who you once were.”

YES YES YES. I’m not all the way through the book yet, but I highly recommend it already.

What I’ve been listening to: Lucius, José González, Bad Bunny (we’re Team Benito in our house), and my 80s playlist, Lexapro for the Ears. Soon I’ll share the playlist I made for A Suit or a Suitcase! It’s an eclectic mix, with songs by Car Seat Headrest, Stars, Sufjan Stevens, The Magnetic Fields, Neko Case, and Radiohead.

I know all of this (*gestures at the world*) is a lot right now, but I as long as I can glean some pleasure from even small things, I will. Life is absurd. More little pleasures, please. Bread fresh out of the oven, smeared with butter with smoked salt. A living room dance party. A stripy sunrise. My dog’s contented snuffle-sighs. Sheets warm from the dryer. A funny text from a neighbor. I’ll take it. No joy is too small.

What’s bring you joy or relief right now, in these digging-past-rock-bottom times? Whatever it is, I wish you more of it. Thanks for being here.

Love,
Maggie