I gave Claude my short story collection and asked whom it would help feel seen. This is what it said:
Primary Groups Who Will Feel Seen:
Grieving & Loss:
* Grieving parents ("Her Name is Beloved" - mother losing
Archive
(Untitled)
husband: you can’t just keep buying books!
me: i don’t understand
Maybe it’s summer or maybe it’s burnout.
Maybe I’m having a depressive episode again.
Maybe it’s the world weighing too heavily on me.
Whatever it
My whole problem is that I want to do all these things and projects and I get all excited mentally planning them out.
And then I remember I have a toddler.
When you’re pacing around waiting for your line editor to get back to you, and she texts you this 😭:
How fundamentalism nearly destroyed my relationship with God
I was a sophomore in college when I turned my back on the religion of my childhood and declared myself no longer a Christian.
My Sunday Shelfie features my stack of books from the library and current reads. I’ve been a bit greedy but not in the least regretful.
This is the fourth year since your son died
This is the fourth year since your son died.
You wonder where the time has gone, and wonder if it’d be cliche to say it sometimes still feels like yesterday.
My mom first brought me to our local Barnes and Noble when I was in elementary school.
During a chaotic childhood, those memories of sitting there for a couple hours just to read books with her are
Made it to EIGHT indie bookstores this past weekend! Not too shabby for a hermit.
Joanna Penn said nobody actually reads their pretty special edition books.
Um I do!
(I mean, I wash my hands thoroughly first, but…)
I’m not one of those people who
No AI will ever write as slowly as I do. Unfortunately. Edit: I change my mind. It’s not unfortunate, it’s human me with my human limitations—unapologetically so.
Anyone else still writing letters and mailing them? Am I one of the last ones standing? 😭
I was invisible and voiceless. Now I write for the invisible and voiceless. Because being seen feels like taking a deep sigh and relaxing your shoulders after holding your breath for too long.
I once adopted a baby cockatiel named Kyoko. She was quiet and gentle, content to snuggle at my boob.
One morning only a few days after we brought her home, I found her lying on the bottom of her
I didn’t even want to be friends with her
People don’t fit into boxes. They’re too beautifully complex, filled with every colour we can and can’t see.
If you invite me to something that begins after 6pm, 99% of the time, I will decline. I’m an old lady at heart who can’t function after suppertime.
Happy Easter Sunday Stack. My current reads:
* To Kill a Mockingbird
* How to Read a Book (still not done)
Plus a handmade bookmark my son made for