I Don’t Text Back
I’m officially naming the blog “I Don’t Text Back” — IDTB.
I’ve thought about this concept for a bit. The guilt-ridden name first came to me on my subway commute from Inwood to Midtown. I even considered writing a newsletter (who knows, maybe one day), but I grew hesitant over time thinking about what exactly that phrase means to others.
To some, declaring “I don’t text back,” is a slightly rude and brash declaration. It’s an unwarranted road sign reading, “turn back, don’t even try.” But for me, when I think about what the phrase means on a more personal level, it's about accepting who I am (someone who is notoriously bad at texting) and communicating with my loved ones in a way that comes most naturally.
I have always preferred long-form writing above all other forms. As a child I frequently wrote in journals and left them open to the latest entry for my parents to read my grievances. In college I realized I preferred writing long emails to my friend Karoline over sending short texts in response. And I have kept more hand written letters from ex-boyfriends than I’d like to admit. All this to say, I’m a 20-something curmudgeon and you’re going to get these words.
True to my first blog post, this will still be about books, writing, style and related musings, but it will be more in the form of catching up with a good friend. I’ll keep it to short quippy bits about my life and leave room for conversations with others. If something resonates, I encourage you to reach out and respond. If not, don’t! Just like the ideal text.
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Musings & Observations
This week I’m thinking about the feigned informality of lowercased Slack messages at work. Does this in fact make a request more palatable? Let me know.
“Not having a strong opinion can actually help you see more.” Doreen St. Felix, Diversity Hire, Ep. 37
Thoughts on writing: When writing a profile, your subjects don’t owe you anything. This was also gleaned from the aforementioned podcast. This was top of mind during a recent reporting trip. The episode was a great reminder that often the story is found in the interactions and the chase, rather than the person.
Last, I’ve been thinking a lot about how in journalism, and more specifically in podcasts, journalists tend to mimic characteristics of fiction. I remember the first time I heard an editor refer to one of my sources as a “character,” as if they weren’t even real. It’s often brought up when suggesting who should be the main focus in your story. Don’t get me wrong, this is important to identify, but that first reference made me pause. I’m also struck by the number of nonfiction podcasts that break their episodes up into literal chapters like a book (I’m thinking about The New York Times and Serial’s latest podcast “The Improvement Association,” which was released today). This is done in non-fiction books as well, but really struck me in the form of the podcast. My critique comes down to this: what happens when we dress our writing and storytelling up so much that it mirrors the drinkability of fiction? I worry that in doing so we are at times taking something away from those who which the story belongs.
Thoughts on a Book
I’m currently reading "A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance," by Hanif Abdurraqib. I’m only a few chapters in, but I’m already loving it. The writing is a perfect marriage of his skill as a poet and a critic. I often find criticism to be unreadable (it’s the thing I want to like, but struggle to regularly fit into my reading diet), but this has been a fluid read. At the moment, I’m enjoying a deep dive into the life of Don Cornelius and the history of Soul Train. I’ve never wanted to live in the 70s more.
A little background on where I bought the book, because for me that is equally part of the reading experience. I purchased the book at Fulton Street Books & Coffee, a Black owned bookstore in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was in town for a reporting trip and searched Google maps for the shop before I even arrived. It was how I planned to ground myself in this unknown city on an overwhelming reporting assignment, and let me tell you it was the best decision I could have made. The shop is half bookstore, half coffee shop (I know!), and pretty much every book is by a person of color. There was an entire section dedicated to systematic inequality in the financial system (or at least that’s what I’m calling the section). I’ve never felt more at home.
Thoughts on You
Finally, this week’s social victories include finally scheduling a socially distanced coffee with an old friend and successfully engaging in banter with my writing group after a day of only talking to my dog.
Texting confession: I’m currently challenging myself to respond to a friend who asked to do a FaceTime call back in January. Here we go!
