Summer State of Mind

Scratch is four months old this week, so we’re taking a beat to reflect on all we’ve accomplished in that time! From essays on the decline of paperback nonfiction to the dearth of arts criticism jobs, to the creative joy found at a local Zine Fest. We’ve held unflinching honest interviews with authors Angela Garbes, Colette Shade, Kristin Collier, and Lydia Kiesling about the good and bad of what it means to be a working writer today. We’ve also let you in on our personal group chats, spanning our varied reactions to The Devil Wears Prada 2 and the reality of us obtaining retail jobs because this economy is what it is. Recently, Rachael Maddux penned our first guest essay on how a real-live successful writer ends up self-publishing her memoir, and what it costs to do so. 

All this to say Scratch is proud of our first several months, and we’re just getting started. We’re deeply committed to the work of shedding light on how writers are surviving the rapid decline of our industries, a rise in fascism and censorship, and the broader need for community and celebration. 

And summer presents the opportunity to loosen things up a little. The next month or so will feature a somewhat more playful (and possibly experimental!) Scratch in your inbox.

To kick things off, we wanted to share what the last couple of weeks looked like for us, while we took a short break from the newsletter life. Summer can be complicated — stay strong everybody.

— Maggie, Latria, Rahawa, and Manjula

How Scratch Spent Our Week “Off”

Maggie Mertens

The end of June is a cluster of non-work stress for me almost always and this year was no exception. My oldest child’s birthday happens the same week as the last day of school and summer solstice, and this year, World Cup madness, hosting my parents and a nice beginning of summer virus capped it off. (Of course, said virus, while only lasting a few days in each of the kids, gave me a sinus infection that continues to drag on two weeks later.)

But taking a little time off of Scratch, as well as my weekly radio show, and going into edits and secondary reporting on a freelance piece I’m working on, has meant that I have had time to power through this period of hardcore mom-ing with more attention and time than usual. My oldest kid requested whale-watching for his birthday this year, and as a fellow whale lover I had to agree. So on a miraculous day when no one was sick, we boarded a vessel in Seattle and were gifted at least an hour of a Humpback showing us his tail fluke and back ridges, and three (yes THREE) grey whales who stopped off in Puget Sound for some feeding on their long migration journey. It was magical, and I think I deserve a prize because my gift-loving kid told me at the end of the day that “doing things together is better than getting stuff.” 

At some point over the last couple of weeks, a fellow writer told me that Bookshop.org was running an anti-Prime day promotion and I realized I really should have posted something on social media about my book being available there, then I remembered I had just missed the 2nd anniversary of publication of my book — one of the only times I feel like it’s socially acceptable to keep reminding people to buy your book that came out more than a year prior . . . But there was a lot happening, and I’ve enjoyed being less online. Ultimately, I decided just to stay in mom mode for a while more. My book will have another anniversary next year after all. 

My house also has World Cup fever. We're in Seattle and my husband plans ahead so we were able to take my sport- obsessed 4-year old to his first World Cup game, Bosnia vs. Qatar, where he became a die-hard Bosnia fan (he has only taken off his knockoff Džeko jersey the few times we’ve forced him to wash it), and my 8-year old who spent his 1st birthday at the USA vs Sweden Women’s World Cup match in France to see Belgium vs Senegal. So, what have I been doing? Running myself ragged, mostly. Playing backyard soccer. Swimming some laps. Taking a lot of ibuprofen and Vitamin C. Going to the zoo to see baby lions. Hiking to some water falls. Spinning some wheels on a new book proposal. Worrying about my credit card bill. Eating meals with loved ones. Crying over whales. Not writing, but not not writing, I guess, too.

Rahawa Haile

My partner and I are moving out of the apartment we’ve lived in for the last 10 years on Friday, which means our last two weeks were spent in the depths of packing hell. I remember moving from NYC to Oakland in 2016 with 14 boxes and a cat — after a solid month of tossing out endless papers and books, donating musical instruments and winter coats to friends, etc — and thinking wow, I will never buy anything again. Reader, you’ll never believe what happened next. I stand before you, humbled, as a person who proceeded to buy roughly a million books over the past decade, largely for research purposes, and is now paying the price for it.

At the moment, I regret ever being a consumer of goods, a writer of any sort (sorry), a friend to fellow writers (also sorry), and just about anything else that wed me professionally to the written word. Moving has made me a monster at war with the past. Please remember me fondly.

Latria Graham

My summer vacation's been a little longer than the rest of the Scratch crew's because *drumroll please*

My book manuscript is with my editor. 

The thing that I've been obsessing over for 1400+ days is out of my hands for a little while. I told myself I would take a beat or two before planning for the demands of autumn. For a *hot* second (just a beat), I wasn't living my life in twenty-five minute increments trying to squeeze every drop of productivity out of my brain. I picked some peonies. I went to a couple of museums, bookshops, and stationery stores. As a former farm kid (summer was our busiest time) and a freelancer, I'm not sure I've ever had a break quite like this one. It was nice. 

At the end of June I did an overnight trip to NYC so that I could attend “Belonging: A Black Writers' Convening,” an event Roxane Gay held at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, NJ. There was so much laughter, so much joy in the act of being together to discuss books, the act of writing, and navigating the complex industry that is publishing. I struggle with crowds which means I can get anxious and squirrelly ahead of events, but I left that building practically floating and the energy from that bit of community time. I realized that I need to build in more time to just . . . be part of a group of people enjoying a moment. I just know I need that sparkly feeling to continue.

Another bit of news that has me floating: I’m now the Senior Editor of the Criticism section at The Rumpus. The magazine was acquired a year ago by Roxane Gay and Debbie Millman. I read the magazine when I was a baby writer back in the 2010’s, and I love cultural criticism but since my career trajectory’s shifted a bit, I don’t get to stretch myself in this category as much as I’d like. I can feel parts of my brain prickling and coming back to life. Looking at (digital) catalogs of forthcoming books gives me something to look forward to during an uncertain time when it feels like anything can happen. I'm learning some new skills, and I get to say "yes" to folks that have really smart ideas (I accept pitches and the mag pays $500, more here) and help them execute them. I know slush piles can be overwhelming but I love the feeling of going into Submittable to learn what others are thinking about.

It's the beginning of Q3, so . . . I'm back in it. I upgraded my visual timers and I'm trying to do all of the professional admin stuff like updating my CV, refreshing my website, applying for fellowships, and doing the deep time-intensive research that it's hard to dip in and out of during the school year. Some of my bandwidth is being spent creating totally new syllabi, assignments, rubrics, and all the other course prep that comes with the gig.

In 30 days or so (schools here start in early-to-mid August) it’s back to school time. I’m going to enjoy what I can while I can.

Manjula Martin

Manjula has been in her garden :) 

This post was edited by Latria Graham.

Scratch is a weekly newsletter about how your favorite writers are surviving (or not). We are a four-person collective publishing essays, interviews with other writers, and topical inquiries into the publishing and media industries today. If you like what we’re doing here and want to support us, a paid subscription is the best way to do so.