There are evenings which arrange themselves so neatly around one’s work that it becomes difficult not to suspect the weather has a mind of its own. I had been editing a collection of light academic, Austen-adjacent short stories: domestic, observant, faintly severe in its manners, and much concerned with tea, weather, illness, and characters who express affection through correction. One of the stories was set in a small English coastal town, and involved the particular betray

I recently added floating shelves to my room. Three of them. I do not know if “floating shelves” is the right term, but they are shelves, and they function without a whole architecture of wood. I saved a little more for my hobbies, had extra money specifically for myself, and decided that the wall needed more drama. This, I think, is the danger of having a dark academia room. You add one small thing, and suddenly the room begins developing plot. A minimalist aesthetic

I have a habit of romanticizing my life. Not in the grand, dangerous way where I pretend everything is beautiful and nothing is wrong. I am, unfortunately, very aware that life is often inconvenient, exhausting, expensive, humid, and held together by caffeine and spite. I still touch grass, if you know what I mean. And I still know the world can be deeply unreasonable. But I have also decided that if I must wash the dishes, I may as well do it while Bach plays in the backgrou