dreaming about being the beginner
Hi! It’s Katherine. Let’s skip over how strange it is to introduce yourself through writing (versus speaking) and dive right in.
Welcome back! I originally started this substack as a space to host my collection of personal essays. Personal essay writing has always been emphatically close to my heart; it was the first gateway through which I gained access to the depths of my own empathy to cultivate more nuanced understandings of myself and others. Recently, I noticed that the last essay I published was about a year ago. For someone who has always felt so connected to writing, I found it unusual that I hadn’t finished an essay within that time period. I wasn’t wholly surprised because I hadn’t felt inspired to write anything to completion in a while. During that time, I had half started a couple of essays, and my journal kept filling with illegible scribbles, so I was writing but not finishing anything. I couldn’t locate or further describe the disenchantment I was feeling over the past year.
As it turns out, the lack of enthusiasm wasn’t related to writing itself, as that has been a natural passion of mine for as long as I can remember, but how I was writing. I have always valued growth within myself, and I could feel myself coming to a standstill with my self-expression. The themes and structure coming through just felt recurrent and stale. Even my journal entries felt a bit repetitive. It all felt stagnant (unsurprisingly reflecting the stagnancy in other corners of my life). With time, I could feel the natural ending occurring and space for something fresh.
A couple of months ago, I was sitting with a friend, and she suggested that I explore writing fiction. My immediate thought was that I don’t have the mind for fiction (one of my roommates told me a while ago that he writes fiction for fun; I was openly jealous of his creative mind and wished mine worked that way). When I really sat with it, I realized I am one of the most ungrounded people I know. For real, my mind may as well always be somewhere else. I can be brought back down to reality occasionally for interpersonal conversations, but most of my time is spent in my own head, daydreaming. So I figured, why not put that to use? Not that being a space case makes you a great writer, but something about what she said felt right.
I used to write fiction when I was much younger, and while I’m pretty sure it was awful, I was probably onto something. (After all, typically, the ways we choose to spend our time as children are reflective of our most honest selves.) Storytelling, in general, is a critical and massive portal for compassion, empathy, and healing that we so desperately need right now. There are so many ways to open up this gateway; this is the one I seem to be eternally curious about.
Anytime I engaged in my own self-healing previously (and I ran through the gamut in terms of spiritual exploration, e.g., tarot cards, crystals, the chakra system, energy healing, essential oils, astrology (ask any of my friends— I still won’t shut up about it because it’s so real), numerology, auras, various oracle decks, spirit animals, more spirit guides, and so on) I was always led back to the same place: love. If you are using these systems intending to tap into your own unconditional kindness, they are all the same. Love, kindness, empathy, and connection are the most powerful healing forces. You don’t need anything else; the message is simple. Those aforementioned tools are really cool and fun, but really, our connection to nature, to ourselves, and the natural abundance of love within us is what is most important. I’m hesitant to say that “love solves everything” (because I know how that sounds like b.s., especially in a world filled with an unbearable amount of injustices and atrocities). Still, the poetic side of me, deep down, does believe that it can fix a lot. What could we accomplish in the world if we all really cared and looked out for one another?
No matter what avenue I went down I always arrived at that same message. This was a little frustrating at first because, in my mind, I would constantly think, “There are only so many ways in which you can tell everyone that they need to be more kind, more compassionate, more empathetic, etc. because you never know what someone is experiencing within themselves.” (This is not meant to be perfected; it’s a constant and consistent practice that, while I am committed to it, I certainly haven’t perfected anything.) Really though, how many times and ways can that be said before people really integrate and embody it? With fiction, an infinite amount. When I really thought about it, I felt renewed. In fiction, even if the message is dressed up in genetically-cybernetically-modified-raccoons fighting alongside alien assassins and other interdimensional creatures in intense action scenes against a space backdrop set to a semi-retro-funky-disco film score to save the universe (yes, I just rewatched Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 last night), it is still the same: love and connection is the vital fabric that connects all living beings, and it is very difficult to live a full life without it. It’s the same archetypal message that is the foundation of many other movies, television shows, books… all forms of art. What I find so fascinating about this is that the core themes are all the same, but because we are so wildly different as humans, it takes different modes for these themes to touch our hearts and reverberate throughout our spirits.
I have always been curious about fiction. If I remember correctly, I’ve had the intention to complete a work of fiction since about college (the worst time for someone who was masking as a computer science engineer— seriously, who has all the time to do what you love when you’re spending all of it doing things you don’t?). I toyed with the idea for years until my friend (what a talented mirror and healer) brought it up again, and I figured now was the time. I love writing and being “in process,” so the idea of having a long-term project to pour myself into sounded fun. Fiction isn’t something I’ve been practicing, so writing a novel makes me a beginner.
Hence, this substack. I am far from an expert in fiction writing or writing at all (for now, anyway— who knows…), but I adore learning and following my curiosities. I recently began reading fiction again to bring myself into that headspace (I highly recommend Severance by Ling Ma, Bliss Montage also by Ling Ma, and Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin— I know I’m late to the party) and realized not only how much I actually love being absorbed into alternate worlds but that I want to know how to create the same detailed, well-constructed experience. Anytime I am reading or watching a television show, I am always in awe of the spectacular and emotionally moving character development, how the characters accentuate different aspects of one another, how the plot underneath connects everything like a puzzle, etc. Writing nonfiction comes naturally to me, and fiction is the new frontier, a challenge. It feels exciting, and I wanted to share the process of being "the beginner” here.
Welcome to “Dream Girl,” a project that blends the exploration of storytelling and the feminine. These two words are particularly special to me, separately and together. “Dream” to honor my friend who first saw the “dreamer” in me and encouraged me to embody my true multidimensional nature (I love and thank you for seeing me so clearly); “Girl” for my eternal curiosity re: creating conversation surrounding the feminine and feminism as a return to nature and empathy; and “Dream Girl” for the notion that the object of our affection, admiration, and adoration, The Lover, is within The Self (it’s almost as cliché as it reads). These themes have been heavily prevalent throughout my life and will always be woven into any story I tell. They need our attention. Even if you’re not on the journey of rediscovering your creative voice (although who isn’t?) I am confident that this is a conversation for everyone. More to come on that.
As someone who struggles daily with perfectionism (I’m rolling my eyes with you), I can already tell how frustrating and expansive this will be. I have noted that my favorite content creators of the moment all have the same thing in common: they are simply “in process” with life. They don’t claim to be experts with respect to anything; they’re just exploring. They have a raw playfulness and experimental nature that I admire. Growth is everything. Often, we are deeply attracted to those who have a lot of curiosity and playfulness. I also believe we are the most attracted to ourselves when we embody these qualities, so it’s important to have practices in place to give them the fresh air they need to be expressed.
What does it mean to develop meaningful, diverse, and inclusive stories? What about certain stories inspire us to listen and immerse ourselves in someone else’s experience, whether that is a memoir or fantasy novel? How do we leverage storytelling to create more thoughtful conversations surrounding elevated empathy and connection?
looking forward to exploring more of these questions and potential answers with you :)
talk soon x katherine
