Monday Miscellany: Katie Crutchfield stank-faced me to death

Notes from the week of May 6 - 12

Introducing a new thing is such a weird and huge task.

Let’s just take some of the pressure off and assume we’re already friends: Hi! It’s me, Emily, and I’ve decided to start a weekly newsletter where I write about what I’m reading, listening to, watching, thinking, etc. If you’re at all interested in the contents of my brain, I hope you’ll consider following along.

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately feeling simultaneously (1) like I have stuff to say and the desire to share it in writing, and (2) like the world doesn’t need another white lady’s opinions clogging up the metaphorical airwaves. But if we never say or do anything for fear that it isn’t needed or there isn’t room for it, where does that leave us? Withered! And sad!

So here we go trying something new. My idea is to send out a miscellany on Mondays, with notes about books, music, movies, and whatever else I’m currently into. If I’m feeling ambitious or finding myself with more to say about individual topics, I might incorporate a second newsletter later in the week in more of an essay-type format. We’ll see! Either way, welcome. I’m glad you’re here.

Currently reading

This year, because your girl loves a project, I decided to read one issue of McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern from my shelf every month. I’ve been a subscriber for quite a few years now, and I also buy interesting-looking back issues from used bookstores whenever I see them, so there’s quite a supply in the house at this point. So far in 2024, I’ve picked up issue #72, which I posted a photo and review of on Instagram; issue #69, which was a 5-star reading experience (rare for me when it comes to story collections) and has the most epic mass-market paperback inspired cover design; issue #67; and issue #23.

I’m currently deep into the most recent release, issue #74, which is a collection of manifestos ranging from the early 20th century to the present, all the way from The Manifesto of Futurism (1909) by Filippo Tommaso Marinetti to Destroy all Manifestos (2023) by James Hannaham. It’s interesting, but not the best choice for long stretches at once, so I’m working through it a bit at a time alongside a couple of novels.

Orlando by Virginia Woolf has been on my radar for quite a while, but I was encouraged to finally give it a try thanks to the gorgeous new edition that Penguin released earlier this year, featuring an introduction by Carmen Maria Machado. I don’t think Woolf gets enough credit for being funny—there have been a few passages that made me snort laugh with their unexpected wryness. And talk about exploring trans ideas ahead of her time; at the beginning of the book, Orlando is a young man, and then somewhere in the middle, he sleeps for a full week and wakes up as a woman. It isn’t treated as a gimmick, either. Woolf really digs into the implications of biological sex and society’s ideas surrounding gender presentation. This was published in 1928! I’m not finished yet, but I can absolutely see why it’s an often-discussed classic in the queer community.

In a totally different vein, I started Rules for Visiting by Jessica Francis Kane on Saturday. It’s about May, a botanist who is approaching middle age, single and childfree, and questioning her ability to be a good friend. She unexpectedly receives four weeks of paid leave from the university where she works, so she decides to use it visiting four of her old friends for about a week each. If you’re interested in my full review, it’s posted on Storygraph, but spoiler alert: this book will likely be among my favorites of the year. The story is poignant and satisfying, and I learned so many great tree facts!

Currently listening

For Christmas last year my person bought us tickets to the Death Cab for Cutie and Postal Service tour celebrating the 20th anniversaries of Transatlanticism and Give Up. The show was a couple weekends ago, and I realized only a few days beforehand that the opener was a band I had recently discovered called Slow Pulp. And reader, I have been playing their album Yard (2023) on repeat ever since. It is… perfect? The vocals are lush, and the melodies are addictive, and there’s the exact right amount of distortion, and the balance of high energy pop bangers to more subdued tracks is spot on, and I just can’t stop listening. The first song, “Gone 2,” is my current shit, but please believe me when I tell you that there’s not a single skip on the whole record.

Another album on heavy rotation lately is Blue Raspberry (2024) by Katy Kirby. Katy opened for The Mountain Goats in Saxapahaw, NC when we saw them early last month, and she was incredible—no backing band, just her and a guitar, and some of the most charming stage presence I’ve witnessed in quite a while. I’m particularly taken with “Fences,” which is only about a minute and a half long,¹ but recently I’ve been waking up with “Cubic Zirconia” in my head. There’s something about the lyric “magazine quiz called you apple shape / you look to me like dollar signs / you look like dollar signs” that completely destroys me.

And finally, y’all. Waxahatchee has a new album out called Tigers Blood (2024). I don’t even know what to say about this besides: if you are feeling any degree of stress, anxiety, or dread, please go watch the video for “Right Back to It” and take a little pontoon boat ride with Katie Crutchfield and MJ Lenderman and be your ass calmed. The vocal harmonies are just so good. And I hate to tell you, but that’s true for the whole record. I was lucky enough to see a lot of these songs performed live in Richmond a couple weekends ago, and I’m pretty sure Katie stank-faced me to death,² and that the ghost who is writing this is totally okay with it. RIP.

¹ Because of course it is. Why are my favorite songs so short?? It’s infuriating. Please also see “Angelina” and “Spiral” by Pinegrove, and “Ephemera” by This is Me Smiling.

² She does this incredible little snarl when she sings and I simply can’t handle it. Are you not also deceased?? ↓

Haiku round-up

One of my 2024 goals was to write a haiku every day, and while I don’t know if other people actually care about reading them, sharing them at least helps keep me accountable. So here, please enjoy some little poems:

Monday, May 6

The day has ended
Night is for soup and a film,
sequestered at home

Tuesday, May 7

Reminded again
of embarrassment and hurt—
get me out of here

Wednesday, May 8

It really is wild,
how big of a difference
sufficient sleep makes

Thursday, May 9

Sitting quietly
to the side at a party,
simply listening

Friday, May 10

To speak of anger
from a place of tenderness:
To begin healing

Saturday, May 11

Shall we drive away
from the city and its noise,
search the sky for light?

Sunday, May 12

Soak up the quiet,
revel in the lack of plans;
next week’s a big one

Until next time

Over the weekend I rode along on a late-night drive with friends to find a place dark enough to see the northern lights. We ended up on the side of the road in the country, gazing at the sky, trying to capture something with our phone cameras that our eyes couldn’t detect. We didn’t ultimately spot any colorful activity, but we did see a lot of stars and fireflies. And it was so quiet out there. I consider that a win.

See you next week, and until then, don’t forget to leave a little dirt under your pillow for the dirt man!