Welcome to So Relatable, a bi-weekly newsletter that helps creative folks improve their craft, achieve their goals, and eat better snacks. I’m glad you’re here! ✨
Hello! Sorry for disappearing for a month. My absence from this space wasn’t planned, but it felt necessary. I needed a break, so I took it. That’s the perk of a passion project—you aren’t accountable to anyone. You only have to do the thing if you want to.
But what if you don’t want to? And what if you never want to again? It’s the kind of question that feels like a bomb, and for the last few months I’ve been circling it, watching as the fuse got shorter and shorter. Although this newsletter wasn’t the problem, it still cracked when the explosion went off.
As for the actual problem: maybe you noticed it, buried in the rubble.
You saw that I was taking a break from writing novels, and that 2024 was off to a bumpy start. Maybe you wondered why this newsletter kept going silent. Perhaps you recalled last June, when I sent my most recent novel into the world, and you read the writing on the wall. The novel came back, a blow that somehow feels more crushing as the weeks pass.
This is usually the point where, driven by a toxic cocktail of pride and revenge, I would throw myself headfirst into a new project. I’d write a better book, one that would make all those infuriatingly polite yet impersonal letters of rejection weep with regret. Back then, pure arrogance could sustain me for months, even years. Today? Not so much. Maybe it’s a sign of growth that I no longer feel driven purely by ego. I’ve ascended to a higher plane!
But what, exactly, do I do here?
The truth is that I don’t know what comes next, creatively-speaking. Each morning, I still rise early and head to my desk with a cup of coffee, but instead of writing, I read newsletters and play Connections, and then I go to the gym. Part of me misses having a project in flight, a story to return to each morning. But another part feels a sense of relief.
With every creative project, there’s an underlying fear that it won’t turn out the way you dreamed. That all your work, all those mornings, will be a waste. Even in your best moments, when you break through a scene or untangle a plot or draft an exquisite sentence, there’s a tiny nihilistic voice in your head whispering, “Who cares?”
It’s a relief to silence that voice, at least for a little while. Yes, I miss feeling creative, but my artistic life needs to be more than ego, arrogance, and pride. That’s the crux of a passion project—passion is required. A bomb is nothing without that first spark.
For now, I’ll be vibing on this higher plane, adjusting to my new-found enlightenment, and waiting for the next spark of inspiration to take hold.
And if the universe doesn’t deliver, revenge is always an option.
Snack Break
The best part of working on a political campaign (Cassidy for Commissioner!) is the snacks. We have good ones during our planning meetings, and even better ones during house parties where the host invites all his or her friends to come over, hang out, and meet the candidate. This spread from a few weeks ago was delightful, and I managed to eat 14 mini quiches while Cassidy gave a rousing speech. Just doing my part!!!!!
Relatable Recommendations
Reading: “It is hard, I think, to learn as an adult. This is not some profound statement. It just is. But it is not hard because of the fact of it; it is hard because learning anything means learning again how to learn. It’s not that riding a bike is hard; it’s that learning is hard. Learning requires something of us.” I loved this essay about learning to ride a bike as an adult, which is really an essay about how to be alive.
Clicking: Such great, actionable, concrete ideas about how to nurture long-distance friendships. Reading them made me even more excited to see two of my long-distance besties next week when we travel to Texas for the solar eclipse!
Growing: Spring has arrived in the garden! We harvested the first carrots and beets, put out the pepper transplants, started new tomato seeds, and planted a crop of corn. Nathan also grew his first flush of mushrooms! Follow The Frontyard Farm on Instagram to keep up with our garden progress.
Eating: After I declared 2024 The Year of Beans, I received an email informing me that, after two years on the waitlist, I’d been accepted into the Rancho Gordo Bean Club. Coincidence? Absolutely not. The beans have been amazing and my quest is a smashing success. Beans for life!
Feeling: Like I’m rounding a very long corner.
Coffee Club Contributions
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👋 About Me: I’m Chrissy Hennessey, an enthusiastic snacker and native New Yorker living in coastal North Carolina, where I stayed after earning my MFA. My writing has appeared in a decent number of journals, I’ve received fellowships to some fancy residencies, and I’ve written three novels, all currently unpublished. This newsletter is a passion project I started in 2019 as a way to connect with readers and writers, share my creative journey, and build a community. Thank you for being here!
I loved that essay on learning to ride a bike. Thanks for sharing. I know it must be hard writing a novel and not having a place for that to go after the writing. I have to agree with others here that it's amazing you have done the work and written the novels. I have so many novels in my mind that I want to write, and I'm afraid to even start. Writing the novel is an amazing accomplishment, and I am sure the next wave of creativity will find you.
When I’m going through a period like you’ve described I try to keep in mind the alchemists (metaphorically). To turn lead into gold, you have to start with lead.