Let's take a walk together.
Join me!
I walk a lot lately. Most days, at some point, you can find me trailing along the same three-mile loop. I rarely see another person. I always see cows.
Occasionally, I spend the miles in silence, listening to the birds and the wind through the trees. Often, I listen to music (my fall playlist of choice). Usually, though, I’m talking.
I send voice notes. I send Marco Polos. And sometimes I just talk out loud, to no one or the cows or (mostly) myself. The habit began in 2023. It was deep November, the world already winter gray. It had been a tough year, a long year. I had just received a five-page edit letter from my agent about how to fix the novel I was working on (psst: you can pre-order that very same novel now). For the life of me, I could not think of where to begin.
So I printed out the edit letter, stuck a pen in my pocket, and I walked and read, read and walked. At some point, I started talking through the plot out loud. It only took about a mile or so before something shook loose in my head. I remember exactly where I was standing when I realized what had to change. I took a photo of myself for good measure.
I guess the habit stuck around. Now you can often find me blabbing to myself or my friends alongside cornfields. Sometimes it’s about book stuff and sometimes it’s about nothing.
So for today’s newsletter, I’d like to invite you to join me on a walk. Put on your comfiest shoes, pop in some headphones, and let me tell you about all the big and small things that have been on my mind lately.
Here’s a little preview for you (and as always, you can read along or listen to me talk through it all):
Denver: Are you OK?
What I want this fall to feel like.
I can’t remember the last time I cried this hard.
Where does the magic live?
Me and alcohol.