Turns out people are really great

Y’all, I’m tired. It’s been just under four weeks since the new administration regime took over, and the barrage of news has been ceaseless. It wears on me. The constant bad news, the constant fear. The knowledge that our democracy is crumbling. The fact that not everyone seems to have that same certainty so you’re playing offense on two sides.

I say all this not because I want you to feel exhaustion but because I know that, maybe, you already do. And I want to offer you a touch of solidarity. An awareness that we’re in this together, you & me. A promise that when I can, I will hold you up and support you however I can1. I am tired, yes, but I am not spent. Let’s fight on.

I just hopped off a phone call with a good friend and feel renewed and re-resolved and somewhat more hopeful. It reminded me that community, relationship, and solidarity are going to get us through this. Reach out to a friend today. It just may boost your soul.

From the heart 💗

Reflections on publishing my poetry book!

ICYMI: I released a book on Thursday! It’s called JUVENILIA and it’s a collection of poems I wrote in 12th grade, along with reflections I wrote in January. You can order it in paperback or on Kindle!

Anyway, this isn’t a total promo post…instead, I kinda want to talk about how I felt on Thursday. As you might know by now, I’ve been angling toward being published for more than 10 years. I’ve heard so much (so much!) advice about how to deal with your debut.

Alas, I did not think any of those words of wisdom applied to me with THIS book and THIS release, because it wasn’t a real book, right??? It’s just a silly collection of high school poems! It’s not my fiction debut! It’s gonna be fiiiiine! As a result, I did no preparation for the potential emotional upheaval of releasing a book.

That was foolish of me. I’m just gonna be upfront about it: I was a fool! Don’t be like me!

I spent most of Thursday in a bit of a funk. It just felt like I had all these high expectations for that day, and then it came, and…nothing really changed? Sure, my projected royalties on KDP skyrocketed because the ebook preorders got charged, but otherwise? It was just…a day.

But then…people were sharing my Instagram graphic to their own stories. I was getting comments and messages from friends and colleagues who were excited to order my book. To support me. To read my words2.

It bowled me over. The whole rationale for publishing this book was to have something to celebrate with my communities. A moment of joy. A fun post that could be reshared in others’ stories.

I got…everything I wanted to, out of this book publication; frankly, I got more than I even expected when I came up with the idea. So does it really ultimately matter if Thursday itself was a bit of a downer? When the whole experience of the past four weeks has been uplifting, encouraging, and supportive?

I think it doesn’t. I think there’s always going to be an adrenaline dip after a big event, and maybe the day of book release itself isn’t what matters. It’s the fact that I have a community that genuinely cares and shows up for me and…god, I love y’all. Thank you for being here.

From the camera roll 📸

Lizzie, the queen of the apartment

From the page ✍️

On being ambitious

Ugh, the way I long for things. It’s unreal!

I’ve been talking and thinking a lot lately about ambition3.4. I’ve been thinking about how I relate to it, how I have so much of it, how sometimes that makes me feel guilty.

Ten years ago, when I first moved to New York, I was writing for a site called girl-ish which appears to have since disappeared off the Internet. I wrote a piece about ambition, and how we should let women be ambitious. I think I referenced the Shakespeare play Julius Caesar, which I’ve always felt personally affronted by because what do you mean “The noble Brutus / Hath told you Caesar was ambitious: / If it were so, it was a grievous fault, / And grievously hath Caesar answered it ...”5 

ANYWAY THE POINT WAS — ambition. It’s often presented as a fault, something we should tone down. And although 10 years ago I was proud of my ambition, somewhere in the decade that followed, I grew to be ashamed of it.

I wasn’t ashamed because I thought it was evil or sinful or wrong to be ambitious; I grew ashamed because I thought I wasn’t worth the level of my own ambition. That my talents and my insight and my stories were not good enough to warrant just how much I want.

I want so much, especially out of my writing career. I want to win awards. I want to be a bestseller. I want to be famous. I want to go on global and domestic tours. I want huge crowds and millions of copies sold and fans who cry and laugh and tattoo my words on their flesh. I want Good Morning America and Reese’s Book Club and, let’s be real, I want late night shows and SNL and TV adaptations and Hollywood premieres. I want, I want, god help me, I want.

It feels gauche to want so much. My brain is full of voices of dissent whenever I verbalize my desires to myself — voices that insist that I should write only for the joy of writing; that I should content myself with smaller dreams; that it’s wrong to want so much when I have to date achieved so little.

But fuck it, I want. I long. I crave.

I am ambitious and I am terrified that the reality of my skills is not on par with the breadth of my dreams.

But I’m going to keep dreaming. Manifesting. Imagining. Picturing. Sometimes, my dreams of the future are the only things that get me through the present. Sometimes, the only reason I keep going is because I have dreams of something better — of publishing, of rave reviews, of fancy events.

When my depression rears its head and comes for my throat, sometimes the only weapon I have to fend it off is my ambition. So I’m going to keep wielding it until the day it serves me no longer.

From the shelf 📚

Seven Days in June6, by Tia Williams

God…what a book!!! Steamy and sexy and emotional and just an utter scoop-your-soul-out kinda book. Eva and Shane are two successful authors, in different lanes, who’ve been writing love stories about each other for 15 years. After spending seven tumultuous days together as high school seniors, they are separated for the next decade and a half.

A re-encounter leads to life upheaval, and sexy times, and the realization that they are still so strongly pulled to each other. Eva has debilitating migraines, and Shane is three years sober. They’ve been through hell, together and apart, and they’ll have to figure out how to get out of their own individual ruts before they can find a future together.

This book is utterly gorgeous. It had me sobbing and rooting so hard for Eva and Shane. I loved the side characters, the setting, the sexiness, all of it. A great read, and one I highly recommend.

Alla prossima 👋

We live in an impossible world. But there is good through it all. On Friday, I finally wrote a poem. That’s my good news for the week <3

— Karis xoxo