Curated links.

Favorite Essays I Read in the Past Two Weeks:

• The Last Vet, Aminatta Forna

The best profile piece I have read. An absolute delight.

• The Daring Dreams of the First Afghan Drag Queen (Via Narratively)
• The Closet Has Teeth (Via Roxane Gay’s newsletter)

This essay doesn’t tiptoe around the edges and corners of the room—it boldly saunters to the center of the room where the story’s heart beats. I had to pause reading because tears blurred my eyes. Because there are so many heart-clutching moments.

• I’m Never Fine, Joseph Lezza

In my essay Empty Platitudes, I wrote how I hate the word ‘fine’—either when we are asking how someone is doing or when we answer ‘I’m fine’ to someone’s ‘How are you?” even when we are at a funeral or when we are grieving a miscarriage.

“I found no comfort when people uttered empty platitudes. Friends and family members came to ask how I was coping. They made me bleed. Again and again and again, they asked me, “How are you?” The question was all pointless: all a cliché: all an obligation: all so far from a real inquiry about how I was really doing. Worse, it was painful.” –Empty Platitudes

I was reminded of how empty platitudes hurt us this week. Three weeks ago, a friend’s little brother died. He was twenty-two. Had he not died he would have graduated this June. He would have been a doctor.

I was sitting next to my friend, one afternoon this week, when mourners—when they left my friend’s home—said to my friend, “This will pass,” as if, one day, my friend would wake up and there would be no more grief. As if she will ever stop grieving her brother one day.

I wished people would stop saying these empty platitudes—which are at the very least empty words and at the most harmful—to my friend or asking her how she is when they came to her home because she is grieving her little brother who died. If you have a friend who is grieving, it’s better to sit in silence with that friend than say empty words that feel hollow. And you would be brave—because most people are uncomfortable sitting in grief.

Perhaps this is why I loved reading I’m Never Fine by Joseph Lezza.

Favorite Short Stories I Read in the Past Two Weeks:

• One More Night Behind the Walls by Peter Mountford

A beautifully written short story. After reading the story, I wanted to read it again.

• Mr. P.C. by Jacob Schrodt (Jerry Jazz Musician Short Fiction Contest)

Favorite Writing Advice I Read in the Past Two Weeks:

• A Literary Lollapalooza: AWP & a grab bag of writing-related thoughts (Bookish)
• Making space for doing nothing helps my artistic practice (Via Electric Lit)

Favorite Sentences I Read in the Past Two Weeks:

“Fine … is a thing on Monday, an action on Tuesday, a state of being on Wednesday, and on Thursday, it takes a day off to rest.”—I’m Never Fine, Joseph Lezza

“The thing about the devastating, soul-crushing effects of illness is that it forces you to extract joy from almost everything you can, and there’s a certain quality about the park’s green expanse that’s so different from the narrow scope of a doctor’s office.” –Weak Lungs, The Audacity

“No, the anger is for the father, who sees his daughter seeking comfort elsewhere and does not apologize, but in fact pretends to be blind to anything but his sports game, which he watches fixedly on the seatback monitor, even though it is a game that has been already played, months ago, and he surely knows the score, and there is nothing less important than already played games in this hot and dying world.” –Junket, Lauren Groff

Favorite Paragraphs I Read in the Past Two Weeks:

“But over the years, during some of the darkest days and most difficult moments, I started to notice something: When I look into the eyes of a child, it’s almost impossible for me to feel anything other than hope. While my brain churns in fear and doom scrolls on my phone, I look down and see a three-year-old holding a perfectly smooth stone in their hand, in awe and wonder. They ask me to keep it safe in my pocket. As my mind wanders and worries, a six-year-old stops me, points to the sky, and says, “Maggie mom! Did you SEE THE MOON?!””—In Praise of Wonder, Isolation Journals

“Children have been my greatest teachers. They are anchored in the present, in wonder. There are so many times I wish I could just bottle up the joy, the innocence, the purity, the sanctity of children. That’s what it is—children feel sacred to me. They’re our world’s most unending promise.” –In Praise of Wonder, Isolation Journals

“We’re good at building things, but so are beavers and bees. Human beings are fascinating precisely because we can also not build things. It may be our highest calling.” –Regular Old Intelligence Is Sufficient—Even Lovely, The Crucial Years

Etcetera

• How one medical school became remarkably diverse — without considering race in admissions
• Highlighting the history of Black writers at the Library of Congress
• A child learned his favorite waiter was struggling. He raised $30,000 for him. (Via The Washington Post)
• Two Black scholars have some ideas on saving the planet.
• Too many emails (Brutal South)
• The trap of too much (the Hyphen)
• 18 different types of friends (the Hyphen)
• The men who ruin us (Abortion, Every Day)

Did You Know?

In Ethiopia, Fasika is the Ge’ez, Amharic, and Tigrinya word for Easter. Fasika is also called Tensae—which in Ge’ez means “to rise”.