Today is the one-year anniversary of our very first post on The Editorial Section. We decided to make a thing of it.
[Disclaimer: the following conversation took place on a direct messaging service and has been heavily edited for punctuation and capitalization.]
SRC: Alrighty, Buluma, let’s get this show on the road. Ready to be our usual witty selves?
WVB: I’m always ready to be witty. Let’s talk.
SRC: So. Do you remember why we started this thing? Where you start isn’t always where you end up.
WVB: I remember you texted me about starting a blog in May last year. It would be a garbage bin to externalize all the things we were holding inside—rants about movies, creative writing, book reviews, and other peculiarities. We talked a lot about finishing stuff that summer, and we needed an outlet to practice trying and failing to write well.
SRC: Well, I don’t remember specifically using the words garbage bin. But essentially, yes. We both suffer from an inability to throw perfectionism out the window and actually complete things. And it’s pretty cool, since you’ve completed quite a lot of stuff since then. Yaaaaaay!
Which piece is your favourite so far? Out of the things we’ve published on The Editorial Section, I mean.
WVB: While garbage bin isn’t an exact quote, it perfectly captures the spirit of our conversation—
SRC: Haha
WVB:—particularly the eclectic nature of what we publish in this newsletter. So far I really like “Traces,” my case for non-human creativity. I spent a couple of months researching generative AI for a course last semester, and “Traces” captures my thinking around the complexity of creative practice. And it also reveals my not-so-secret obsession with Bruno Latour.
Traces
In a study on people’s aesthetic judgements of AI-generated text, three researchers presented 1,342 American participants with six poems addressing three topics—impermanence, regret, and memory—from either a first-person or third-person perspective. They told some participants the truth, that ChatGPT generated the poem…
SRC: I love how forced we both sound right now.
WVB: The joy of starting a newsletter is punishing your readers with increasingly elaborate and cringe attempts at humour.
SRC: Well, you make me laugh ahahaha
WVB: Thank you, I appreciate that we’re trapped in this newsletter together.
SRC: Is it too cringe to say “lol”? lol. I like “Traces,” too. I think it shows, how much thought and research you’ve put into it. I’d go more into what I think of it, but that would look like promotion haha.
WVB: Cringe is a state of mind.
SRC: looool. Actually, I finally got around to reading “Crow’s Feet” the other day. (Which I liked quite a lot, by the way. I know we haven’t actually discussed it yet.) You’ve published quite a few short pieces of …fiction? can we call it that? …recently.
Crow's Feet
When you see the crow's feet forming on the edge of Gogo's eyes, you will know it is almost time. You will be sitting around the fire, one tipsy Uncle or another telling a story. An orchestra of crickets punctuate the half truths, lending them a gravity that will evaporate in tomorrow's tropical heat. Someone will start humming under their breath, one o…
WVB: I suppose fiction is the word to call them, if they must be called something.
SRC: fiction adjacent? oh god I don't even always capitalize stuff AHAHAHA
WVB: capitalize = capitalism = sinning against daddy Marx
SRC: LMAOOOOOO
Okay so you've published a lot recently. Every time I clean the spam out of my inbox, I discover you've written another piece that I've missed.
I don't even know when you actually published “Crow's Feet.” But I finally read it a couple days ago, and I loved it. Although I do have a couple of questions. Where are you getting these ideas from? When you write a short story (or whatever fiction-adjacent genre we're going to call it), what do you draw from?
WVB: Don't give me too much credit, I actually wrote “Crow's Feet” in high school. I was reading through my old stories recently and realized they were better than I remembered. God, I used to be so hard on myself as a teenager. So I decided to post “Crow's Feet.” Maybe in a few years we'll read through old posts on this newsletter and realize they’re better than we remember.
SRC: I feel like maybe that's part of the idea of this blog, too: to remember we're not as bad at this as we think. In pursuit of the defeat of perfectionism! Or should I say, Death to the pursuit of perfectionism! ra ra ra! …this is just me and my stupid comments while you actually answer a question with real eloquent thought hahaha. They don't call me the peanut gallery for nothin', you know.
WVB: I draw closely from my own life (maybe too closely) for everything I write. For “Crow's Feet,” I was thinking about family and the way, in those few moments of clarity with people you love, all the extraneous worries fall away. Nothing matters but the moment—so I tried to recapture that perfect moment of contentment.
SRC: What's “too closely”? The saying “write what you know” exists for a reason.
WVB: Sometimes I'm writing about things that happened, other times the spirit of what happened. But I won't tell you which is which.
SRC: They're pretty much the same, anyway. Something that's not necessarily factual can still be the truth.
WVB: There are some excellent lines from The Bell Jar about peanuts. The novel opens (emphasis mine):
It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they executed the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. I'm stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick, and that's all there was to read about in the papers—goggle-eyed headlines staring up at me at every street corner and at the fusty, peanut-smelling mouth of every subway. It had nothing to do with me, but I couldn't help wondering what it would be like, being burned alive all along your nerves.
Before her first suicide attempt, the protagonist Esther has peanut shells in her purse:
I felt in my pocket-book among the paper scraps and the compact and the peanut shells and the dimes and nickels and the blue jiffy box containing nineteen Gillette blades
and then, a bit later, when she talks to a little boy on the beach, she encourages him to go home with false promises of candy:
“If you go home, I'll give you some candy.”
The boy hitched closer. “What kind?”
But I knew without looking into my pocket-book that all I had was peanut shells.
Strange the kind of contexts in which a great book comes up.
SRC: Are any of those where the saying comes from? Or is this just your endless supply of quotes again? (The latter; it turns out “the peanut gallery” actually has a very racist history.)
Okay so I have another question. Would you say that the purposes we're currently using the blog for are the same as they were when we started? True or false?
WVB: True and false, at least for me.
SRC: Why both? (also nice paradox you got there)
WVB: True in the sense that it's helping me get in the rhythm of finishing things, and it's an eclectic mix of what I'm thinking about.
SRC: I’m glad to hear it. And now for the false: drumroll please!
WVB: False in the sense that (moving forward, at least) the newsletter has specific animating principles. Not sure how to word this....as I was researching for “Traces” and the pieces I have coming up (I have more ideas than time), I realized that I want the newsletter to serve as a repository for my reading and a conduit for curiosity about the world. I'll be doing more researched pieces on a variety of topics—currently I’m working on the limitations of interdisciplinary English, an exploration of Annie Ernaux's work, and more reflection on creativity and generative AI—because, despite my best efforts, I'm taking this thing semi-seriously.
SRC: I mean, you can take it seriously if you're willing to live up to your own expectations. That's awesome. As long as you're not crippled by the weight of your own standards. which is what we're trying to move away from.
WVB: When we started, I thought the newsletter would be a fun little aside while I prepared my work for lit mags or more “serious” publication.
SRC: What even is a serious publication?
WVB: This publication, obviously.
SRC: I love how academic you're getting about it. and I also love how much writing you're doing, and how excited you seem to be about it. That's the main thing.
WVB: I don't think it's possible not to be crippled by the weight of my standards tbh. At the very least I'm learning to mitigate it, but I've always put a lot of pressure on myself intellectually and as a writer. My greatest fear is to be mediocre and not know it. I think it makes me better (more thoughtful, less lazy) and worse (never satisfied with my work). There's a balance somewhere, and I'm hoping to find it here.
SRC: Of course. We take life very seriously over here at The Editorial Section.
Seriously, though, that's a perfect way to put it. I think you're definitely on your way to finding that balance. At least, that's the impression that I get.
I'm concerned that my occasional little offshoots of... whatever... aren't going to fit with your grand vision.
WVB: There's no grand vision, really. And if there was, it would be yours—the blog was your idea, after all. And it's good to have a mix of writing I think, cater to different aspects of the soul (lol).
SRC: Things change, my dude. But yeah, we want to stay eclectic.
WVB: The grand vision of never having a grand vision.
SRC: I couldn't have put it better myself. I have plenty to say—particularly when it comes to film—but I don't often have the time or energy to put it into an essay. But when I do, it's nice to have somewhere to put it. I feel like “Recessional” fits best with your most recent works.
Recessional
Inspired by the song of the same name by Vienna Teng. * “Just kidding. This was a terrible idea,” she says as they finally pull out of the hug. “Coming with you to the airport,” she clarifies when he asks. Given the choice again, she would still come with him. There's no doubt about that. But goodbyes are hard. She's barely managed to grasp this and now sh…
WVB: Agreed. I think I told you after I read it, but the structure made for a beautiful love story. And the song it was based on was great.
SRC: God I fucking love Vienna Teng. What a lyrical genius.
But, like some of your works, “Recessional” was also very personal. So maybe part of what I need to do as a writer is to draw from my own experiences, write about what I know. Even though opinions are what I like to express haha
WVB: Do you have a film hot take to share with us now lol
SRC: Well. I'd love to write about Wes Anderson at some point, and how story is his weakest element. And whether that actually matters. I went to see Asteroid City when I was in Mexico City, and yeah. Debatably he cares less and less about story with every film he makes. But at the same time, the themes of grief and searching for meaning in a chaotic and meaningless world....they made me feel sad. I felt really sad when I left the theatre.
WVB: I haven't seen Asteroid City, so I'll have to take your word for it. In the end he must have done something right if you left so strongly affected, despite everything.
SRC: Or it was just hormones lol
But he has a very distinctive style that makes people feel nostalgic regardless of story. The film language itself has a dry sense of humour, dialogue aside. And the more films he makes, the more nostalgic it will become. Subsequently, he can do no wrong.
WVB: Hmmm...there's a truth to that. You summarized something I've been trying to figure out in four sentences.
SRC: What, how you feel about Wes Anderson?
WVB: The texture of his films.
SRC: Ahh. They prioritize style, that’s for sure. But they're not empty. Just convoluted. Anyway. Haha. What were we talking about?
WVB: The future of this newsletter. It's been a year since your first post, what are you thinking of posting in the next year?
SRC: Well shit. I think I've only posted a grand total of 3 things. Maybe I'll finally get around to Wes. I went to go see the French Dispatch when I was in France, and I made some notes. I actually had a comparison between him and Hayao Miyazaki. That could be fun to explore.
Mind you, this was a couple of years ago.
WVB: As someone who has been recycling posts from years ago, I fully support. Can't wait to read it, whenever.
SRC: I also have a mostly finished opinion piece that refers to the platonic/romantic binary in pop culture. It's just missing something, and I can't quite put my finger on what it is. Clarity of ideas, maybe.
WVB: If only you had a writing partner to act as a sounding board for ideas that need refinement.
SRC: Hmmm. Yes, well. If you have time, hit me up.
WVB: Anyway good luck with that.
SRC: What else do you have to say about the direction we're taking things?
WVB: I intend to do more collaborations with other writers, try to build a sense of community, or at least attract people to fight with in the comments.
SRC: I can fight with you in the comments if you want.
I like the idea of collabs. You go, man. Do some growing. Make some friends.
WVB: My mom is gonna so proud.
In all seriousness, what I like so far about my time at Substack is the quality and quantity of writing on this platform. (Keeping in mind it's only a platform, and everything dies.) Majority of my time is spent reading and commenting on other people's work, learning from a diverse range of perspectives, encountering work I wouldn't have otherwise.
SRC: I just read a post today by a new subscriber who complained about just that haha
He meant to use it just as a writing platform to get his writing done and out there, and he ended up sucked into all the other wonderful pieces to read. It wasn't a complaint, not really.
WVB: I remember reading that post as well and relating to it.
SRC: And you'll use this platform while you can, and then you'll move on when the world moves on. Such is life.
WVB: That's a healthy way to think about it.
SRC: It is what it is. Enjoy it while it's there. The same goes for people.
I'd love to write a piece about my take on the free will vs determinism debate, and how I think they co-exist. But I'm not sure I can pin down my ideas well enough. And I would have to do a lot of research into the likes of Sam Harris and such. It's also entirely likely that someone has the same ideas as me and has already published them much more eloquently than I ever could.
WVB: Maybe there's something generative in not being able to pin it down, the rejection of the binary. And of course they have. There’s always someone more eloquent, more intellectually rigorous, just more. But there’s value in articulating strong ideas and challenging yourself/the audience. You don’t have to be original, only interesting.
SRC: I reject the binary for a lot of things LMAOOOOOO
That's actually what my half-finished piece is about: rejecting the binary of platonic/romantic.
Sometimes writing is challenging yourself to be able to articulate it at all.
Give me your parting thoughts. imma go get some leftover pasta.
WVB: I suppose it's time to make some promises. I promise consistency in the depth and sincerity that goes in to posts (to the best of my ability). There's no set schedule or anything like that, but I'll be here, thinking, sharing, improving. Hopefully other people will want to think alongside us. How about you? I have some pizza to reheat.
SRC: I promise nothing mwahahahahaha.
Actually, due to the nature of my school program, I promise myself I will watch more films. And inevitably, with that, comes sociological and storytelling critique. I also want to write more about my own experiences though, get into the personal stuff, the learning-to-see-the-world-as-a-writer stuff.
... I almost burnt my pasta.
WVB: That's the perfect ending lol
SRC: hahaha
I remember when I found you both, assuming there really are two of you:)! and I loved immediately what you were doing. That was in February and you posted for the collaborative I work on here: https://innerlifecollaborative.substack.com/p/archiving-haunted-silences --a terrific essay. I'm looking for guest posters on my site and always for collaborators on Inner Life. "Encountering work I wouldn't have otherwise" --"Ain't Life Grand" as Widespread Panic sings. Sing, my loves! Sing. ~ Mary