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Last year on this day I biked alone to the Pacific Ocean with gummy worms and a dog-eared copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover in my pack. It was the kind of foggy, moody day the Northern California coast is known for—gray and windy as I roll pass cow pastures, toward the black cliffs that buffer the sea. When I reach the shore, the sand is dark, cool between my toes, and I walk and breathe the fresh-fresh air until I find a protected dune in which to curl and lay myself upon the earth. The waves roar, gulls call, shore grasses tangle all around me with wind, yet this small crest of sand shields me. I am alone and sad, and the moment feels perfect: a pocket of calm in chaos. I eat my gummy worms and slip back into Lady Chatterley’s story—her quest back to herself, a returning to instincts that the world has repeatedly denied and disfigured. Above me, birds assemble and reassemble, moving a thousand parts as one. We rarely know what we need going into a new year, but often the universe provides.
Today I’m 29 and not the sea but an ocean of mountains surround me, here in Colorado on the ranch I now caretake with my lover and dog. When I think about myself between now and then, I want to reach back through time and pull myself hand over hand toward the moments when my recognition failed—when I knew nothing of my surroundings, nothing of my path, nothing of myself, and I continued anyways. It’s her I want to celebrate today.
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To thread anything through the last 365 days is to play a game of contrasts, which I only find helpful when I approach the strand of mismatched pearls without judgment. I am the sum of all of those days—the good, the bad, the ugly—and each of the days that came before and before and before. No singular bead defines me (or you).
So what have I to report today? How our mornings now call for sweaters? How a big blue sky still swallows my gaze? How small, how integrated I feel when running with my dog through fields of sage? How I feel seen and heard and cherished by my lover? How the tomato dying on its vine looks duller than a rubber ball and makes me feel like a murderer? How I then can look over at the new green growth on the cactus I thought was dead and spontaneously burst into happy tears?
The world is big, friends. What burns today may rise tomorrow. The journey is everything.
WHAT I’VE BEEN READING
BOOKS
Fever Dream, by Samanta Schweblin. For all my horror/thriller freaks out there, this one’s for you. Named as one of Granta Magazine’s best Spanish-language writers under the age of 35, Schweblin’s creativity and storytelling surpass the expected. The novel starts with a young woman dying in a rural hospital clinic. A strange boy sits by her side, coaxing an eerie and horrifying story from those in the room. Together they bring a nightmare to life—part ghost story, part cautionary tale, this absorbing and taut novel is truly unsettling in the best of literary ways.
The Most Secret Memory of Men, by Mohamed Mbougar Sarr. My bookstore coworker passed this novel onto me, written by a Senegalese powerhouse in the French language. Many aspects reminded me of Trust, by Hernan Diaz—how the story centers around a mysterious piece of literature and its author—but I enjoyed this book more. It’s dense and convoluted, and requires you to pay attention to who is speaking at any given moment. But it’s smart and rewarding as you progress and uncover, layer by layer, what’s at the center of the true story.
The Heaven & Earth Grocery Store, by James McBride. Anyone looking for a classic “good read” that is entertaining and driven by characters, this won’t disappoint. Set in poor-town Pennsylvania, the cast of townspeople revolve around each other like magnetic stars in a galaxy—never too close, but never too far either. They’re forced to work together to help one another (the neighborhood is a mix of poor immigrants and people of color in the 1930s) and what transpires is a whole lotta drama that demands the heart of their community beat together as one.
Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay and The Story of the Lost Child (books three and four of the Neapolitan series), by Elena Ferrante. I didn’t want this series to end, so I stretched it out for months! I’m working on a long essay about my relationship to these books and this woman, there is so much for me to think about.
I Hear You’re Rich, by Diane Williams. This short (flash) story collection is capital-I Incredible! You never know where you’ll end up, based on where you start and where she takes you by the page’s end. It’s a collection of mini masterpieces.
Love Letters: Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West. These two women were so precious to one another—intellectually, physically, emotionally—and it shows through the words they exchanged on paper for over TK years. Both were writers, both ambitious women, both married to big men. They found solace and stimulation in one another, and were constantly inspiring each other’s works. I love letters because they’re so intimate, and to glimpse behind the veils of these women is a privilege I’m grateful we all can share.
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WHAT I’VE BEEN LISTENING TO
“Used To Be Young” is the new Miley Cyrus speaking to all us old/evolved souls.
Zach Bryan has a new album out last week! My favorites: “East Side of Sorrow,” “Hey Driver,” “Tourniquet” and the spoken poem he included: “Fear and Friday’s.” My favorite line from album: “I’m revved up, thirsty, and ready to drown!” The growl in his voice just does it for me.
Seeing Maggie Rogers live was electric! Her energy, her charisma—the way she handed the microphone to S. (we were front row!) so he could sing a verse with her—it was 10/10. A dream come true!
WHAT I’VE BEEN WATCHING
(⭐️/5 stars)
Oppenheimer ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ A journey indeed! I enjoyed the movie’s structure—the layered, swirling stories force you to pay attention. Did you catch how much art influenced Oppenheimer’s work? He turned to music, paintings, and books for inspiration in the world of physics.
My Brilliant Friend ⭐️⭐️⭐️ I’m half-way through the first season. Initial thoughts: the neighborhood feels really empty? I do love how the characters are developing on the screen, and I swear I underlined in the book every sentence they used as a voiceover in the show—makes me feel like a good reader, picking out all those gems 😎
WHAT I’VE BEEN EATING
This Cucumber Edamame Salad has rocked my world! Add a slab of salmon or another fish, plus rice, to round it into a meal) it’s perfectly oily and satisfying yet still so fresh… we’ve made it four times this month!
Blistered Shishito and Corn Salad, in which we substituted hatch green chilies for the shishito peppers and highly recommend! Wrap it in a tortilla, add black beans or chicken
These Lemon-Ricotta Pancakes, which are not too sweet!
WHAT I’VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT
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It’s often said that fiction delivers more truth than, say, memoirs or the personal essay—when people think their veiled, they’ll say so much more. And I feel this myself in my writing. Fiction is a messy business that invites the true heart of whatever matter into an open field for all to see. Yet you can hide behind it as the artist. It’s a terrible and lonely experience sometimes, reliving or reimagining certain things. Other times it helps you see or identify your own truths: What does the subconscious sneak into? Any which way, writing fiction is far from idyllic work, and here I am, enamored by it.
My life as a dancing animal:
Women’s sports. “Today is a good reminder that if you simply give women the stage they will deliver. That is all,” ESPN analyst Kenzie Quinn wrote on Twitter after the Nebraska women’s volleyball set a new world record for attendance at a women’s sporting event. They filled a football stadium with 92,003 people and placed the volleyball court in its center! How cool. Brava. This comes on the heels of the Women’s World Cup and the incredible athletic-team achievements therein. The world of women’s sports has grown so much in my lifetime—one of the most tangible ways I’ve seen of female potential and power absolutely pour forth and drench society once artificial boundaries are removed and opportunities provided 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽
WHAT I’VE BEEN LEARNING
A first-season garden in the mountains is tough: some of our tomatoes, squash, broccoli, chard and kale are coming along very nicely (thank you, plants!); but our peppers, melons, and sunflowers have totally stalled. They’re not dying, but will they ever bloom? Will they continue to grow? How long will they stay as they are? If anything, I know all of nature operates on its own timeline, and how wonderful is that to trust?
WHAT I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO
A jaunt up and down Capitol Peak tomorrow to celebrate my birthday (and hopefully a dip in its lake!) followed by pizza.
Beginning the process of applying to MFA programs this fall… if anyone has experience with or advice about this, I’m all ears!
Fall sweaters! I finished knitting my first sweater last month and have started on my first sweater vest ✨
xx Emma
PS: I have a new email! Let’s stay in touch: eathenamurray@gmail.com
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What’s been tickling your senses this month? Leave a comment or hit the reply button!