Feeling good feels like a luxury

I am not someone who gets depressed. Frankly, I resented that for years--I was surrounded by people who couldn't get or keep their lives together, and I had to pick up for them while everyone (sometimes including them) were scolding me for not having a better life of my own. Not being able to do something sounded like a luxury.

I understand depression a little more now, and I am grateful that I have been spared. When something terrible happens, I don't retreat, I get motivated. 

So I don't get depressed, but boy, was I devastated this week when that horrible budget bill was passed. That hit me worse than the election, and it's not like I was skipping through a field of flowers for that. It's not that I can't believe a bill which condemns the most vulnerable among us to destitution and death passed, it's that I can't believe we've been watching this slow-rolling disaster for months and NO ONE has a plan. No, do not say "the 2026 midterms". That is not a plan, that is a delay, and if that's the best you can do, that is you saying that you are fine with people dying before that. How can that be the best that anyone can do?

I am not the expert--please believe me, you don't want me to devise a work around for our medical system and housing availability--but the best bet we have seems to be a general strike. Nope, sorry, we can't wait until 2028, as some proposed previously. We do not have time for that. 

I'm very concerned that the media wants to see something like a general strike--you know, for the drama--but they are unwilling to do their part, which is truthfully report events. I take this personally; my uncle risked his safety as a reporter and then editor in South Korea to tell important stories. I don't see our press doing the same thing. In the prestige media, I see a lot of capitulation, and it makes me ill.

Someone on an episode of Tech Won't Save Us earlier this year advised that the platform decay (aka enshittification) of media and social media sites means we need to go back to smaller scale communication and distribution. We need newsletters--though, please, not ones generated from all of those popups--small group chats, and blogs. This was music to my ears in an otherwise depressing episode, because those are all things I've been enjoying. I hate the internet, but since Cory Doctorow recommended using an RSS reader, I've hated it a little less. Progress!...?

A few days ago, I stumbled onto a website called good internet. The writers are young enough to be my children, but it actually makes me feel better to know 1) that people that young feel the same way I do about the internet and 2) that they see a way out. Spoiler alert: it's about making the internet smaller and more interactive again, as opposed to the hellscape our tech overlords have been shoving down our throats. I'm enjoying it, and I recommend it, almost to the point that I feel guilty feeling so cheered by it.

But if we're going to get out from these fascists, we need to have a dream of what the world should look like. That, maybe, is part of my plan.

Deb in the City 

Tomorrow is a big day

I'm co-chairing another climate conference because people foolishly think I'm good at those things. I don't do anything alone, but I have worked hard. I'm hoping that the material we put out there is something people appreciate, even if we don't have a big audience on the day of. Ah, the magic of Zoom recordings.

The conference starts tomorrow at 7 AM (8:30 for the rest of the world) and goes until 5 PM. It's going to be a long day, there will be fires to put out and cats to herd, but then we'll be done. And then you know how I'm going to celebrate?

By bringing my phone and Surface to factory settings obviously.

When a friend mentioned doing that a few weeks ago, it pricked my ears. By the time I heard a journalist talk about it a week and a half later, I was ready to start strategizing. And now, having spent hours sorting and deleting files, I am so excited. I can't wait for my phone to be just that--well, maybe throw in a little texting--and I can't wait to get rid of all of the dreck that's on my computer. I have a good idea of the things I'm going to need to add, but it's not nearly as much as you would think if you saw my computer now.

I first heard about the internet when I was eleven years old, and it sounded like a great tool to do some research on (I was convinced there were other Greek myths that hadn't made it over to me at that point). Forty-one years later, and I can say that I do not want to use the internet for research unless I don't have a choice. In looking through my bookmarks and saved links and realizing that the biggest category was science--I bet you didn't see that coming--I pondered over the best way to use the information. Finally, it came to me, and I deleted all of them and got a subscription to Science News. I don't want to use my computer as a mediator for my research any more, though of course it would be foolish not to use it for writing my thoughts in a final format. (Ahem, ask me how I know.)

The money I spent on that was freed up in part by canceling my BuJo U subscription. I'm really grateful for the Bullet Journal system, and I appreciate that it's an idea the creator didn't initially make a lot of money off of. So I was happy to be a paying member of his community for a few years. And I would have stayed even through an increase in price, but NOT through it's evolution into a certification course. Ugh, ugh, and more ugh. Sorry, but having lived through mind body fitness--hell, having lived through tech--I know a scam when I see one. I can still enjoy the idea and utilize the concept, but I'm not going to be part of a community which can't survive without preying on its members.

Sadly, I have similar feelings about Marie Kondo. Much as I love her books and genuinely felt better after implementing her ideas, her consultant certification just boggles my mind, even more than selling products she implicitly warned against in her books. In her defense, she didn't set up the same kind of paid community Bullet Journal did, at least not in this country, but still.

These developments get me even more because what I think the internet is a very good mediator for is *communication* and sometimes even community, but organic communities, not those whose ultimate goal is sales. There's something very MLM about that, and I try to avoid those at all costs.

I think a lot about what Neil Postman et al had to say about how technology affects content--"The medium is the message"--and I'm starting to come to the conclusion that it's not a question of technology corrupting "content", but technology being misapplied. Just because something's good at presenting a drama that doesn't mean it's the best thing for music, and just because something makes a great message board, that doesn't mean it's where we should do our shopping (don't get me started on internet search). Maybe it's not a terrible thing to experiment, but when you fail, admit it and move on.

Well, that's what I'm going to do at least.

Deb in the City

 

Books In Conversation -- Here We Go!

But, what are Books in Conversation?

Before 2016, I used Twitter with a frequency that made my husband raise his brows. I live-tweeted debates; I followed the news to the point that I never lost a Breaking News Off. I had always been exposed to the news—my parents never thought to protect me from current events, for better or worse, and some of my earlier memories are of my mother talking about Carter’s inauguration, watching Carter at Camp David with Anwar Sadat and Menachem Begin, and Reagan getting shot on live television. And don’t get me started on the Iran Hostage Crisis. I was better informed than most seven and eight year olds, though my understanding was probably more age-appropriate.

I studied history in college. I talked to people. I’d like to think my understanding improved. Some things still didn’t make sense to me, but at this point I think that was because they didn’t make sense, period. I was very, very well-informed by 2016, and for more than twenty years had been “the political one” in most circles that weren’t, well, political. I expected Hillary Clinton to win the US presidential election not because I wished it so, but because the smartest people in media told me I should.

The smartest people were wrong.

I was as devastated as many other people by the results of the election. I didn’t believe Trump could be as evil as he turned out to be, if only because I thought he would be stopped. I was wrong. But I was also angry that I had been so misled. By my reckoning, the media had told a story that they thought should be true because it always had been before; they saw what they wanted to see, and it wasted precious time. (Also: “But, her emails.”)

I had already intended to start writing my science-fantasy series, and I needed to know a lot more than I already did to flesh out the family saga that dealt with the aftermath of genocide. I had an ambitious amount of reading to do, and after stumbling onto a book about recent Japanese history, it occurred to me that my time was going to better spent reading books for a deeper understanding than memorizing how many children a tertiary character in an ongoing news-of-the-week story had, or what color tie they favored. I wasn’t going to be the person who kept track of intrigue in the presidential cabinet—boy, would that have been a full-time job—but I was going to be the person who understood better what was really going on.

I read more history. It’s what I do and how I am, but I branched out into military history and areas of the world I’d been too afraid to delve into because they were so complex. I read less political history and finally dived into Edward Said’s Orientalism. That was intense! However, I’m a better person for it. I found Ibram Kendi’s Stamped from the Beginning and had my mind blown every other paragraph as I read about things I thought I already knew. I learned about Asian American history and later South Korean sociology. I read King (the civil rights leader, not the horror author), Fanon, and more Said. I finally found someone who put into words my feelings about the Syrian Civil War and reminded me that my memory wasn’t faulty. I learned the term “settler colonialism”, and I’ll probably never stop shuddering.

I read about the value of solitude and that, no, you actually don’t want everyone to be a prodigy a la Tiger Woods. I read about the importance of nature in our lives, and I read yet more Marie Kondo before I read about what it really means to “collect”.

Because of what I wanted to write, I finally decided to read science fiction and fantasy, even as I cringed over getting caught up in medieval imperialist fantasies. I got started with The Colors of Madeline, V.E. Schwabb’s Shades of Magic trilogy—Amazon’s Vine Program was good for something—and then read Naomi Novik’s standalone novels. I branched out to N. K. Jemison’s Broken Earth trilogy, and started feeling seen. I finally jumped into Liu Cixin’s Remembrance of Earth’s Past trilogy, and everything followed from there, including Ken Liu’s amazing Dandelion Dynasty Quartet, Fonda Lee’s Green Bone Saga trilogy, the Nameless Republic Series by Suyi Davies Okungbowa, the devastating standalones of Tochi Onyebuchi, and the Akata series by Nnedi Okorafor. (And how can I leave out the works of Shannon Chakraborty?) And more! I had finally found the niche I wanted to spend a lot of time in.

Through it all, I’ve been struggling to be the most productive, Modern person that I can be, and believe me when I tell you that I loved my Bullet Journal as much as I loved Marie Kondo. That community, as well as the artist Austin Kleon, recommended How to Take Smart Notes by Sonke Ahrens, and the idea that I could do something interesting with my nonfiction observations and book reviews beyond using the perspectives in my fiction began to take shape. Ahrens talked about notes beginning to “converse” with each other to create new information, and I got excited because it reminded me of all of the times I’d made an off-the-wall connection between two disparate facts. I took copious notes in my Bullet Journal—I am Team #OneNotebookToRuleThemAll—and half-heartedly took some notes on note cards (500 isn’t that many, is it?).

My husband read many of these books with me, but at a certain point that wasn’t tenable, and I didn’t have people to discuss these topics with. I can write book reviews, but that doesn’t invite the same kinds of conversation on my library website as I might like. I have been thrilled to interview authors in the past, but while I’ve enjoyed most of those writers, I wanted to put some of those people in the same room and have them talk about specific ideas in their books. I’m really not that persuasive, especially when the subject matter is vastly different, and some of the authors in question are gone. (How sad to know Edward Said isn’t here for me, since he was the person who made me realize I hadn’t been imagining racism everywhere I turned.) I can’t get the authors to talk to each other, but I can—after a fashion—get the books to talk to each other.

“In Conversation” will hopefully not only apply to books but to readers as well. I desperately hope that people who have read some of these titles will chime in—whether in the comments or their own blogs or videos—to talk about the themes that I see and what these books meant to them. I don’t know how we get out of this mess, but I do know that we have to do it together, in solidarity.

At the time of this writing, we are seeing a degradation of the establishment news media we could only barely imagine eight years ago. Major papers pulled endorsements for Kamala Harris because they were betting Trump would win and they wanted to make sure that their other businesses wouldn’t be punished for allowing some journalistic integrity. This is a predictable outcome of monopolization—and by predicted, I mean people were warning of it in the 1990s, not just the 1910s—but to see it happen so shamelessly is still shocking.

Do I sound smug about my reliance on books over current event coverage? Sure, but please know that I rarely enjoy feeling superior about anything for long. I’m an indie author, and I’ve followed Amazon’s predations on traditional publishing. I’ve also been aware since the 1990s that all aspects of the media landscape, including book publishers, have been subject to consolidation. With very few exceptions, publishers are always more powerful than their authors; this is the way of the world, and this is why so many of us jumped at the chance to publish independently. But when there were twelve important publishers, authors at least had more theoretical options. Today, there are four that are making decisions about the vast majority of what is being read and discussed, and publishers and editors are not making decisions in a vacuum. Those decisions are shaping our narrative, and it is *always* worth pausing to consider to what extent our beliefs are being actively shaped. Questioning your own beliefs is always a good idea. I would add that reading older books—going back at least one generation—can be one way to diversify perspective, but again, those books were chosen by someone as well. Another is to look for truly independent authors, although it is much rarer to find indie history and politics than it is indie fiction.

I want to mention a couple of invaluable resources for helping me build my virtual library. The selection at the New and Notable area of the Boston Public Library at Copley should win an award; if I’m ever hurting for reading material, I know I can go there and find a title that I’ll be glad to have read—I would never have found Donna Leon’s Commissario Brunetti Series without them. The NoveList feature on the library website helped me find or confirm fiction titles that enriched my life. Brooke Gladstone of On The Media is amazing—I found the magnificent Fearing the Black Body on one of her shows, as well as the author Cory Doctorow, whose blog pluralistic.net has been an invaluable source of information. I reluctantly admit that the blog of Austin Kleon has pointed me in the right direction more than once; now, I hope, someone will convince Kleon to get off of Substack and let someone else keep Nazis company. Finally, I must also admit that Goodreads has been helpful—not because of their algorithm, but because of the recommendations of several authors, including N.K. Jemisin, Ken Liu and Shelley Parker-Chan; without them, it probably wouldn’t have occurred to me to read Consider the Fork, Orality and Literacy, and Women in the Picture. I also would not have found the podcast Gaslit Nation, which has been a source of irreplaceable community during this bleak moment in history.

If any of that sounds like an endorsement for a subsidiary platform of Amazon, it’s NOT. I’m not so grand to hope that my little project will be the beginning of a return to a decentralized blogosphere, but I do hope we start writing about what we’re reading and what we’re experiencing in spaces that can’t be weaponized against us on a whim. Let’s stop worrying about SEO—the fact that you’re not going to make a lot of money on Facebook hasn’t stopped you from posting there—and start talking to each other again. Who knows? A conversation in the ether just might turn into a meaningful relationship...one that hopefully includes discussing new ideas, and acting on them.

I'll update this page as I post the "conversations". Thank you for your patience!

Volume 1

Deb in the City

Boston's Blue Bottle stores are now unionized!

Most of the time I, like the majority of all bloggers in the world, keep a blog because I have things to say about things that affect me. Rarely, it's to make sure that something is memorialized because no one else is touching it.

Such is the case with Blue Bottle's Independent Union, and it's bizarre.

I talked about the work my daughter and her colleagues were doing to unionize last month here and here. I'm really proud of her because I think this is essential work, and I'm not just saying that because she's my daughter. It has been well known since I had jobs in food service (and most other parts of retail) that you can't afford to live off of that salary--excuse me, wages. The only way to survive--and that is literally how people put it--is to be in management. That is easier said than done in many businesses, and it's still a hustle, even if you can now afford your rent and your meals.

Once you don't have to live in that, it's quickly obvious how ridiculous that is. If food service--if retail--can't offer sustainable employment, then it is not a sustainable business, period. Asking for a livable wage is not unreasonable or unrealistic, especially when the product you're serving is premium priced. And the fact that people are starting to assert their rights to organized labor is a very big deal, and it should be a bigger story.

Last month the Blue Bottle stores in Boston filed their papers with the National Labor Relations Board, but in order to be fully unionized--i.e., they could begin negotiating with management--they needed to have an election, which they did last week. This wasn't a foregone conclusion, and up until the last minute the management was trying to dissuade employees from voting to unionize. Yes, they were successful, as the title of this post indicates, but *that wasn't a foregone conclusion*.

Why, then, when I did a search for the story just now, three days after the election, is there no news of it? Someone in my family suggested that the BBIU should have sent out a press release, but sorry, why isn't the press covering this on their own? This is an important story--no, it's an important VICTORY.

Well, to hell with the establishment media. If you're reading this, now you know. So go tell everyone, and celebrate with coffee from a union shop. There may not be that many now, but soon there will be.

Deb in the City

Foreverism (Day 99)

The Tech Won't Save Us podcast was one of the recommendations I got to replace The Economist. I've listened to two episodes, including this one on Foreverism. Good news: Foreverism might be the cure for nostalgia; bad news: it just might shrink wrap you as well as our culture.

Please give the episode a listen. I can't describe all of it right now, but think endless Star Wars, Star Trek, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and, oh yeah, Marvel franchises. (I was motivated to write about it when I saw that they are doing a remake of The Fall Guy. WHAT? WHY??)

It struck me today when I was listening to it with my husband for the second time that the impulse to do this is related to the compulsion to collect. Perhaps a dozen different films and series continuations of an "intellectual property" is the next evolution in the cards and action figures, only now the fans can more fully immerse in it. 

Maybe. All I know is that it made me feel better about almost never wanting to read the same title twice.

Deb in the City

Unsubscribed to the Economist (Day 96)

After about eight years of reading, the editors on the Checks and Balances podcast last week hit the final straw for me. I'm allergic to anything that's super popular, and during my time as a subscriber the Economist went from this somewhat erudite (though not always correct) source of information to something that's being quoted by everyone. They are one of the only mostly centrist outlets available, and though I'm about as left of center as you can imagine, I found it a tolerable way to find out what other people were thinking. 

But I'm not blind, and it occurred to me that much of what I was seeing in establishment journalism that I can't stand--something that critiques both the left and the right, not on their merits, but because there is a bias toward maintaining the status quo--is exemplified by the Economist. And when I heard John, Idris, and Charlotte critiquing the New York case against Trump and his hush money to a mistress, I was done. 

Yes, it's a wonky case--but have you ever seen Trump? It occurs to me as everyone is positive that democracy itself is on the line in this election, naysaying holding a criminal insurrectionist to account for any of his crimes isn't helpful.

I've gotten some good recommendations to fill the void, but frankly, I don't miss it. Just that much more time for me and books. I mean, those things never got anything wrong...

Deb in the City

Off-track, and I'm okay with it (Day 94)

I have a goal of transcribing one-thousand words a day during the week. I gave myself a walk on Monday because it was the first night of Passover, which means there was a lot of cleaning and cooking. I gave myself another break on Tuesday because it was my anniversary and if my husband was going to take the day off, so was I. I was did plan on resuming today, but instead I spent three (3) hours on the phone with Mass Health. Not for me, but for someone else, and in the middle of the ordeal I cried (and that's not something I ordinarily do on administrative calls). The issue is resolved now, but the executive branch of Massachusetts should be ashamed of itself. Needless to say, I didn't get transcribing done today, either.

I am happy to get back to it tomorrow--I legitimately look forward to it--but I'm not going to try to make up for lost time, because it occurs to me that, at least in this instance, that's just another way to lose more time.

In slightly related new, I am officially over vegan ice cream, so over it that if someone offered me a way to eat "real" ice cream, I wouldn't be interested. I needed a comfort food (see above), but for the last three months every time I've had ice cream I've felt disappointed and empty. I asked my husband what I should substitute, and we ended up coming to rice pudding (with dates and not sugar, thank you). That's something that can be served both warm or cold, and there's a lot you can do to dress it up. And, not for nothing, much less expensive than a jaunt to my local ice cream shop. I think they'll be okay without my business.

Deb in the City