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! ✨
In my last newsletter I talked about Matt Bell’s excellent book on novel writing, Refuse to Be Done, and shared how I was “writing the islands” of a new project. Today, I want to talk about another concept from the book—art life and lived life, which he regards as the building blocks of imagination.
Art life is everything you consume, the creative foundation on which you build your projects. Bell recommends reading, watching, and listening to as much as possible, so you can understand how your work is part of a larger conversation. “The bigger you make your art life,” he writes, “the more possibilities your imagination will generate.”
Lived life, on the other hand, is born from your own experiences. What you require from life will change depending on the project—a visit to your hometown in search of sensory details, a new experience that expands your thinking. This, too, is about conversation. “The more life you live,” Bell writes, “the better you’ll understand what [your project] knows and wants to know about the world.”
These ideas about art and life remind me of my dark horse word of the year. At first, “fun” felt too frivolous, too flippant, a silly mantra around which to orient my year. But fun is more than just birthday parties, surf lessons, and happy hours; it’s figuring out what lights you up. Fun, when done right, is art and life, each one brighter because of the other.
In honor of all that, here are some glimmers from the last few weeks:
Last night, friends treated us to dinner and a show—Ira Glass at UNCW, during which he spent two hours exploring the art of storytelling through audio clips, music, and videos. It was a delightful evening that fortified both my art life, my lived life, and my friend life.
During my short commute to work, I pass a median full of flowering ornamental grass. Since the time change, the morning light hits the red-tipped bushes just right, and they appear to glow as I drive by.
After some feedback on my novel, I managed to cut 7,000 words from the first half of the book, an incredible and humbling exercise. In art and in life, less is usually more.
It was fun and exhausting to spend yet another 14 hour day at the polls as an election worker, chatting with so many friends and neighbors as they showed up to vote.
On what looked to be the last warm day for a while, I finally washed my car.
The new yoga studio I joined is perfect—humble yet beautiful, friendly and serene, hot but not unbearably so. Unrolling my map and breathing in unison with the rest of the class has been so lovely and so needed.
While volunteering at a cocktail fundraiser for the Northside Food Co-op, we met interesting people, toured a beautiful house, and drank many wines on behalf of an excellent cause.
As I write this, we’re in the middle of celebrating two back-to-back anniversaries—wedding (11 years) and dating (21 years). What a joy to be part of something for so long, what a privilege to learn and love together.
After taking the hottest months of the year off, we’ve been walking the ancient dog again. Just one block, as slow as he wants, with lots of breaks to roll in the grass. Our neighbors, who haven’t seen him in a while, greet us wide-eyed, surprised and delighted to see he’s still here. I know how they feel.
Reading through this list, it’s clear that the border between art and life is often blurred, a conversation that dips and twists but never ends. If we’re lucky, we’ll keep talking forever.
Snack Break
What could be more fun than an eight-year-old’s birthday party at a beach house, especially when it features a homemade cookie cake shaped like a panda, a bonfire on the sand, and a wild gaggle of children running up and down the shore? Add it all to the list. 🐼
Relatable Recommendations
Reading: The Lost Children Archive, which is quite slow but quite beautiful. Think On the Road meets the border crisis. My book club discusses it next week; I’ll report back.
Clicking: My friend Erica wrote about the horrors unfolding in Palestine, and it’s a must-read. Confessions of a Viral A.I. Writer. A great advice column on whether we should be getting Botox, which I might print out and hang over my bathroom mirror.
Eating: A lot of sugar (see: cookie cake, Halloween candy, cocktail party). Leftover roasted veggies with a little cheese on top. Cold smoothies after hot yoga. Afternoon cups of coffee, a risk worth taking.
Feeling: Grateful. Hopeful. Full.
Coffee Club Contributions
Want to treat me to a ☕️ and support So Relatable? 💛 💃 🙌
Venmo: @Christine-Hennessey or PayPal Me.
Can’t afford a contribution? You can also click the ♡ below, forward this to a friend, or share the link on social media. Every little bit helps!
👋 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 in 2014. 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!
PS: At the end of each year, I donate 20% of anything I earn from this newsletter.
I appreciate your support!
I enjoyed this post, Chrissy! Especially reading your take on fun -- something I'm often trying to redefine for myself. I'm also jealous of your Ira Glass night. Searching to see if he has any other upcoming events! THAT is my idea of a fun evening. ✨
Such a beautiful post.
Live in the moment, let experiences find you.
Thank you for this. 💖