In honor of reviving this newsletter, I want to share a writer’s statement that I was assigned to craft for a creation non-fiction workshop in 2022.
Naturally, I hated having to write it. Writing about my work has always been an obstacle, especially when I didn’t see sharing personal stories as creating art or a body of work—yeah, I know.
But I completed the assignment and find myself revisiting the statement whenever I feel stuck or unmotivated. I hope it gives you a peek into how I approach a writing life and how Negotiation came about.
My writing is inspired by how Megan Stielstra describes friendships that help us survive the city and early adulthood, and Ashley C. Ford’s vulnerability and unwavering commitment to sharing her truth. Many of my stories are inspired by Black feminist bell hooks, especially Wounds of Passion, a book that gave me permission to live life as a writer. These three writers not only inspire my work as well but the way I approach life as well. I write to explore complex relationships, especially when they occur in the context of community organizing and social movements. I also write to recognize where I have and haven’t grown in my many identities and ideologies. Writing allows me to remember that it is okay to change my mind. Even in moments of discomfort, I trusted myself to get to the other side. The enclosed stories are examples of that.
I am a child of the blog era. My first online diary account was created while Simple Plan’s video for their only hit song, “Perfect,” played in the background. I learned about Caleida through an AOL chatroom from which people started disappearing. Users migrated to Caleida and other platforms like Livejournal for more privacy. One of my online friends told me to join, it was the best way to share my thoughts and feelings. The volume on the TV amplified the chorus of “Perfect” as I clicked “Create an account.”
I wrote poetry and short stories before the days of writing online. I didn’t know what to call all those words on the page; I simply took a pencil and a piece of paper and wrote. Mom pissed me off? Wrote it down. Sisters annoyed me? Wrote it down. Terrified after a drive-by shooting? Wrote it down. I never knew what to do with my thoughts, the words just had to come out. One day, I made the mistake of leaving a poem I wrote on the kitchen table. One of my sisters picked it up, read it, and passed it around the house, even outside, to our neighbors. It wasn’t until after a dozen people read it and made fun of me that someone said it was actually a good poem. It didn’t matter by then, I was embarrassed and upset that my privacy was violated. I retreated to writing almost entirely online, quickly realizing I was not alone. This was incredibly important to feel as a teenager: I learned that another world was possible.
In the past decade, I’ve turned many of those entries into stories performed on stage with no intention of being read by others. That shifted over time as I realized I missed the online diary era and wanted to push myself to write with the same forcefulness I held as a young adult. Visibility was a major theme for me, and readers will see that in my current work. My writing has changed for the better, but many of those feelings have remained constant. In my writing, there is often a sense of belonging, whether searching for it or finding it in unexpected places. Other areas of my work touch on familial relationships, especially mother-daughter dynamics and sisterhood. As a transplant to cities near and far from my hometown, I am deeply affected by travel and space, which frequently shows up in my stories.
For my full-length manuscript, I decided to write about an intense relationship that ended not only because it was necessary, but also because of the 2016 presidential election. I Used to be the Sun is a love story with political upheaval in the background. It is also not a love story with a shared happy ending, but it highlights how easily we can let ourselves fall into others and the narratives we craft to make sense of it all. I wanted to rework the narrative of my relationship, and writing I Used to be the Sun helped me remember that I may have struggled with boundaries. Still, in the end, I chose myself and focused on building a future with community.
Over several years, I introduced myself as a Queer Black Feminist to everyone, and it was the first sentence I put on dating profiles. Being a fat Black girl, who was coming into their non-binary identity, was not easy but I had my share of fun. I was desired, whether intentions were good or bad. I was loved, whether intentions were good or bad. I was rejected and fawned after. I discovered that the erotic is essential to my liberatory practice, along with my writing, most of which explores sexuality and relationship styles from this specific lens. My relationship with the erotic has changed over time, but there is always a lingering desire for intimacy and visibility. That never goes away, even when futures seem uncertain, even when institutions fail us time and time again. Queer life, community (by choice and condition), and social justice play significant roles and often come into the foreground.
In May 2020, I stood in my kitchen on the first night I ever spent away from my then-infant child. I smoked a bowl and ate chicken wings while my sister-comrade talked to me about the institutions that continue to fail Black people, young Black people in particular. I told her I was writing more throughout the pandemic and wanted to continue. It felt weird to share that I wanted to prioritize writing when an uprising was happening in our backyards. But I did. We discussed the importance of Black people being honest and showing vulnerability not to white people but to each other and our liberation. I’ve written many essays, poems, and snippets since our conversation.
My writing might appeal most to people who struggle with knowing that what they want is at odds with what is expected of them. I want readers to feel capable of owning their desires as well as their mistakes. We don’t have to keep trying hard to make ourselves into versions that are more lovable, compliant, or non-threatening. If anything, I want readers to know that there is always a community willing to open its arms to someone committed to knowing themselves deeply. The experiences in these stories and my reflections are part of my journey to know and trust in myself. I will continue to write the first draft of my collection. Hopefully, a published version will find a home in the hands of someone who always finds themselves in search of something, whether it be a story, community, or an orgasm.
Thanks for reading and supporting I’ll Tell You Everything about Living Free.
As a subscriber, you can read I Used to be the Sun as a digital zine here. It is available for download at that link. You can tip on Ko-Fi if you’re moved to do so.
Before I go, I should note that my sisters are my biggest supporters of my writing! They were just annoying back in the day, as we all were. Thanks to their nosiness, I gained lifelong friendships that started online. If you are one of those people, I hope you know how much I appreciate you making it through life with me.
If you’re new here, I hope this is the start of our time together.
Be back soon,
Sula Found
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