Drooping and Blooming
the story we tell ourselves is the most important one
Friends! Happy Friday.
I missed you in September. I had very big plans for the last sixty days. After accepting that, sadly, I’m not a super-genius capable of writing a stunner of a manuscript in the first go, I was ready to commit to a vigorous writing schedule that would hammer out draft two in no time flat. I had a newsletter to write! Tiny interviews to film! Content to share on the ‘gram!
Alas, I have done almost none of it. When I would speak to other parents about their child’s senior year, the ubiquitous response was, “It’s a lot.” Sure, I thought, I get it. There are senior photos and collages and beach days and blah blah blah. The chaos of high school is overwhelming on a normal day. Looking at the boys’ Google classrooms makes me want to cry a little. Add the communication generated by teenagers (sketchy, last-minute, and via eighteen platforms), and I truly don’t know how they manage it. It’s not their fault that they’re agents of chaos—mom, sign this form, I need a check, I need to stay late at school, I have a test, can you pick me up early, I need to go to Target, I’m hungry, I need to go to Party City and buy a cape. So in theory, I was prepared. “That makes sense,” I’d respond with understanding, while quietly believing that I was going to be fine.
But pride goes before a fall, etc. etc. Now I’m the person who will respond to your question with, “It’s a lot,” while I stare into the middle distance and try and remember what I’ve forgotten while simultaneously watching the spool of time pick up speed, days unwinding faster and faster. Nolan finished his essay the other night (after only one major family shouting event—yippee!). I looked at him and said, “This means you’re actually going to apply to college.” He gave me a hug as I cried. We’re so lucky. None of this is promised, and yet, here we are.
It’s about more than the college application process (which, in all honesty, I’m sick to death of talking about and yet I still find myself talking about it because it’s tedious and time-consuming and full of insufferable acronyms). It’s about the end of a season. It’s about the feeling of looking at my son, who is nearly ready to take one foot out of our family life and plant it firmly in his new life. He’ll start a chapter of his own story, and it’s beautiful and stupid and perfect, and I’m supposed to hold this knowledge in my fragile little heart while we bicker about whether the Self-Reported Academic Record (SRAR, angry face here) can be filled out before the application is submitted.
Being a perfectionist means I’m nearly always in a race to nowhere against myself (doesn’t that sound fun?). When my pace slows, there’s a natural panic that sets in—what if I’m behind, what if I don’t ever finish the novel, what if I’m missing the window right now, what if, what if, what if. Writerly self-doubt doesn’t have anything helpful to add in these moments. But as I get older, I understand that these doomsday stories I tell myself are merely a distraction. The seasons are changing, yes, but they’re always changing. Inclement weather swoops in out of nowhere even in the height of summer. And we may droop for a stretch of time, because life is hard and unpredictable. We may have to look for new sources of water, may have to wait for longer days of light to return. But we can bloom again.
Transitions, loss, upheaval, endings, beginnings: these are what change us. If we’re lucky, it can happen in countless ways, borne out of both joy and heartbreak. Bloom, droop, bloom: everything in its time.
So if you’re in the midst of a transition and find yourself on rocky ground, not sure where to root down, perhaps you can tell yourself that, eventually, you will find your way to a patch of soil. Keep taking the next right step, trusting that even tiny movement still pushes you forward.
I’ll be doing the same.
xx, julie
I may not have been writing, but I’ve been reading!
And reading supports my writing, so bully for me! I read some completely wonderful books over the last two months.
❤️ THE WEDDING PEOPLE 📖
Loved it. This one hit all the right notes for me: fun to read, with the right amount of insight and depth. A great book to give as a gift!
❤️ HERE ONE MOMENT 📖
If you’ve read my book, you’ll know that I had a complicated relationship with The Immortalists, by Chloe Benjamin. At first blush this book has something in common with that one. What does it mean if you know how and when you’ll die? But I was moved by this book. The tone wasn’t as dark, and the way she weaves together the multiple perspectives is completely masterful. I would re-read this book. Cried at the end (shocker).
❤️ MARGO’S GOT MONEY TROUBLES 📖
Loved this one—it was different and a complete delight. Thorpe manages to balance the book’s of-the-moment feel (OnlyFans, professional wrestling, podcasts on shrooms), a quirky cast, and insights on family and agency. A joy to read.
⭐️ SING SING 🎧
This was a powerful story about the wrongful convictions of six innocent men. If you liked Just Mercy then this book is definitely for you. I read it on the recommendation of my Bookstagram friend Kelly (@kellyhook.readsbooks), and she didn’t lead me astray. I would recommend it on audio (narrated by the author).
⭐️ LENNY MARKS GETS AWAY WITH MURDER 🎧
Cozy mystery vibes. If you liked The Maid (Nita Prose) then I think you’d enjoy this one. Aussie audio at its best, and an easy book to enjoy. Nothing life-changing, which is sometimes perfection.
GOOD MATERIAL 🎧
This one was a miss for me. Did you ever see The Break-Up with Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn? I would say the only part of that movie I liked was when they were arguing about the dishes and she says she wants him to want to do the dishes and he replies with something along the lines of “That’s ridiculous. Who would ever want to do the dishes?” I found the rest of the film to be totally depressing, and struggled with this book on the same level. This one had funny moments and Alderton’s observations are always spot-on, but it dragged for me. Turns out I may be a sucker for a happily-ever-after. Great narration, though, with the final section done by Vanessa Kirby.
SANDWICH 📖
I LOVED We All Want Impossible Things. Catherine Newman is a gifted writer. But I had to force myself to finish this book. I didn’t care about the characters and I couldn’t figure out what was at stake. But I know plenty of people who loved this book. Someone email me so we can discuss.
What else you should know about
These toeless socks. My sister is on my shit list because she has known about these for a WHILE and never shared them with me. Toes should be free but heels get dry and now we can all live in harmony.
Mando and I have been loving this show. Bonus, the subtitles mean you actually have to PAY ATTENTION and, you know, appreciate the craft of film. If you’re used to watching Real Housewives and then worry you’re getting stupider by the minute, this may be a nice reprieve for your soggy brain. It was for mine!
See you in November, friends.
Next month: a Tiny Interview with Madeline Martin! As always, thanks for being here. Being connected to you is the best part of this writing world. Watch out for the acronyms and have a happy October. xx
