Monday Miscellany: She emerges, new

Notes from March 31 - April 6

Apr 07, 2025

The large storm system that’s been making its way across the country for the past week has finally reached us, and thankfully it’s manifesting not in tornadoes or flooding but a constant and steady drizzle. I’m writing today from my covered front porch, draped in a blanket and relishing the cool air and calming pitter-patter of the rain.

There are no mosquitoes to keep away this early in the season, but I’ve lit a stick of repellant incense anyway because it feels like a ritual: the hiss of a struck match, the glowing red of the core once it catches, the lazily wafting stream of smoke that smells like tent camping with my family as a child. And the dwindling length, reminding me that time is limited and always passing—so I make a game of it, to see how much writing I can do before the incense burns out.

Read this week

We Do Not Part is my second Han Kang of this year and honestly might not be my last. Her books have been on my radar for quite a while—The Vegetarian got a lot of buzz when it came out a decade ago and went on to win the international Booker prize, several friends whose taste I trust have cited Human Acts as a favorite of the last few years, and most recently Kang won the 2024 Nobel Prize in Literature for her whole body of work. I picked up Human Acts last month when the ebook was on sale (literally whomst among us can resist the $1.99 price tag?) and my hold on We Do Not Part finally came in last week.

This one is about a young woman, Kyungha, summoned to a hospital in Seoul by her friend Inseon, who has just been injured in a wood-working accident. When she arrives, Inseon begs her to go to her house and give her bird, Ama, some water before it’s too late. We then follow Kyungha on her journey as she battles through a horrible snowstorm, traveling by bus and on foot to reach Inseon’s beloved pet. Nothing is straightforward here—Kyungha hits some snags on her way, but apparently makes it to her destination, at which point Inseon appears and the two converse at length about the events of the past. Is Inseon a ghost? Is Kyungha? Does the bird die? What is going on? The details become blurry, the sequence of events hard to pin down.

We Do Not Part doesn’t feature as many character points of view as Human Acts, but like its predecessor this one takes a horrific moment in Korean history as its theme, narratively jumping around in time to describe it from multiple angles. Combined with Kang’s gorgeous language and descriptions, plus the eerily quiet blizzard of it all, the interwoven flashbacks occasionally made me feel unmoored, lost in a dream. Where and when, exactly, are we? Unclear.

A giant snowflake settles on the back of my hand. It has traveled more than a thousand meters from the clouds. How many times it must have fused and combined as it descended to have grown to this size. And yet how light it is.

This is definitively not a plot book. If you’re here for action, you’ll want to see yourself out. But the interiority lovers, the thinkers and feelers, the vibes girlies—welcome. If you decide to give it a try, I recommend this Book Riot bonus episode as a chaser; it opened my eyes to some symbolism I’d missed and helped me to understand and appreciate Kang’s work a lot more deeply.

Dear Writer by Maggie Smith came out this past Tuesday and I got to read an early copy (thank you, Simon & Schuster). I’ve been anticipating this one since I learned about it at the beginning of the year and I’m happy to report that it didn’t disappoint.

Smith structures her advice into sections based on the core elements of creativity she has identified: attention, wonder, vision, surprise, play, vulnerability, restlessness, connection, tenacity, and hope. She’s largely focusing on poetry writing, and she uses her own poems as examples of the points she makes, but she also encourages readers to apply her thoughts to artistic pursuits more broadly. There are generative writing prompts at the end of each section, and though I didn’t work through them this time, I’m looking forward to sitting down with a finished copy of the book and doing so in the future.

As it says on the tin, there are helpful bits of practical advice here:

Please read your work aloud as you go. Read those sentences and let them hang in the air. You can hear most problems in a piece of writing before you see them.

The pep talks are also quotable and abundant:

To be vulnerable is to allow yourself to be seen, and sometimes it is so difficult—downright mortifying, even—to be perceived, isn’t it? It’s safer to sit quietly on the sidelines rather than play. It’s safer to make nothing, to put nothing into the world, because then it can’t be critiqued or judged, and there won’t be mistakes for others to witness. If you don’t try, you can’t fail. It’s true. But how unfulfilling is that?!

This is a piece of writing that I can see myself coming back to frequently, when I’m stuck or just need a boost of encouragement. If you’re a writer or artist or creative person in almost any capacity, I recommend it.

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Seen and heard this week

Hold on, movies and music? In the same newsletter? Y’all, your girl is out of control. Buckle in, I’ll try to keep it brief.

Did you hear that Princess Mononoke (1997) was getting a 4K restoration in honor of Studio Ghibli’s 40th anniversary? I was lucky enough to see it in IMAX with some friends and the experience was truly incredible. This is already one of my favorite Miyazaki films, but what I noticed and appreciated most about seeing it in this format was the sound—the whole thing just felt so giant and all-encompassing. If it’s still playing where you live, go!

Last night Jordan and I were looking to watch something relatively light and not too long and we landed on Wallace and Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl (2024). It definitely fit the bill! Wallace has gone a little overboard with his inventions, culminating with a gnome robot that he creates to help Gromit with gardening tasks. Gromit is already fed up with the abundance of machines in the house, having been subjected to the Pat-o-Matic when all he really wants is some real human contact.

So he’s wary of Norbot, the gnome, and rightfully so—after some meddling from afar by an old enemy, Norbot’s motivations take on a sinister tone, one gnome becomes a whole army, and chaos ensues. I found these little robots legit terrifying at times, but otherwise this was a punny and delightful way to spend an hour and a half.

I am new to Sleep Token, but I recently received a crash course in the history, lore, and upcoming album courtesy of my friend Becca, who is a rich fount of such knowledge. “Caramel” just dropped a few days ago but it’s been stuck in my head pretty consistently since then. The way it starts out as one thing, lulling with a false sense of security, then builds into a catharsis much bigger and darker before dying away with a whisper, is so well done. And the drumming! The first time I listened my jaw dropped at 3:25 and my eyes stayed bulging out of my head for a solid minute after that. Pinning this to one specific genre is truly impossible, so if you’re into anything from indie pop to alt rock to melodic-leaning metal, don’t sleep (heh) on it.

Mount Moriah is an old favorite, a local band from my hometown of Durham, NC. I found a vinyl copy of their album Miracle Temple (2013) on a particularly fruitful recent trip to the used bookstore and have enjoyed spinning it several times this past week. If you’d asked me before which release of theirs was my favorite I probably would have answered How to Dance (2016), but now I simply don’t know. Heather McEntire’s vocal slide at the beginning of “Bright Light” has captivated me anew, and when she instructs this “fearsome child” to “show your size and hold your side,” my attention is rapt. This is americana with an edge, its sound a skinny dip in the creek or a fish fry block party in the full heat of summer.