I don't know what to tell you

But I think that's normal. The first words are often the hardest to choose.

You want to know that you're setting the right tone. That you're preparing people for what's to come. Managing expectations, and the like.

I feel like apologizing. That's normal, too, and unnecessary. (Unnecessary for you, I mean. These rules don't apply to me. I'm a special kind of ungood. If that sounds familiar, it's okay; I don't mean you.)

I won't start with apologies and you shouldn't either, I think. And apologies aren't just sorries. You don't always have to explain why you're here and why you matter.

And listen, when you're knee deep in it and wondering if this is all a bit too intense to be, like, chill or whatever — keep going. Don't worry about being cool. Be more genuine, weirder, messier. Let people see you feel.

Hi.

I've been writing

• My new poet friend Talicha J had a workshop on facing the dog days of summer and it was so good. We dug into poems that speak to the transitional nature of summer (as opposed to the version of summer as bliss and relaxation that we're sold each year). Summer as time travel, as ripening, as open water, as rot. We studied gorgeous poems and warmed up with super interesting pre-writing activities and it all pulled out of me a poem I didn't know I was in me. That's one of my favorite things about writing in community: I always find my way to something I would shy away from on my own. Follow @talichajpoetry on Instagram to stay updated on her writing workshops and other events — starting with writing sprints on Tuesdays at 3 pm ET.
• I've been giving myself more community writing space by hosting co-writing sessions once or twice a week. They've given me opportunities to return to projects I've had trouble sticking with, or develop ideas off my hundred list. If you want space to write without as much structure as a workshop, join us on Saturday 8/5 at 1 pm ET. Sign up here.

I'm reading Mind of My Mind and playing Wytchwood and daydreaming about finishing a story someday maybe. What about you?

xo, Priscilla