We Wrote Home & Saw Love Looking Back
On Write Home, a night of emerging storytellers
Everywhere you looked, there was love.
That was the state of affairs at Two Dollar Radio Headquarters in Columbus, Ohio last night. And just like Solange said, “I saw things I imagined.”
As I’ve seen my writing and newsletter take shape over the past few years, and even the Shut Up & Write gatherings I host twice a month at Two Dollar, I dreamed of inviting my people into a room where where we could share in these words together.
Little did I know,
was having similar dreams. Last August, we randomly found each other on Substack only to discover we’re both in Ohio. And when you meet another writer from Ohio, you’ve already traversed more than half of the friendship gap.Rachel’s newsletter,
, lovingly explores girl culture and nostalgia. And she actually just released a book, The Internet is our Bedroom. It’s a collection of the essays she wrote for her newsletter last year, as well as some surprises exclusive to the book. You can (and should) buy it here.At the end of last year, we got to chatting, and I decided to pitch my dream of a reading. And of course, we were already on the same wave.
Building out the reading was actually pretty easy. We knew we wanted to shine a light on some of our favorite writers, especially the ones who were navigating these murky Substack (and Internet writing) waters along with us.
To say a little bit more about this, there are a lot of us who maybe moved to Columbus later in life or chip away at our writing online without ever getting “discovered.”
Especially in a city like Columbus with so many writing titans—Hanif Aburraqib, Scott Woods, Maggie Smith to name a few—it’s easy to think that’s what success needs to look like. And while I know even their paths have taken time, we saw value in creating the room we wanted to be in.
And this is where I must give a big shoutout to the homies at Two Dollar because they’ve been unbelievably kind to me since I began looking at venues to host Shut Up & Write two years ago—and they were just as excited as we were to host last night’s reading.
Now, for the wonderful souls who said yes to sharing their work with all of us, I couldn’t be more proud of the lineup we had. In addition to me and Rachel, we invited Tomás Pacheco,
& to read with us. And truly, it was a no brainer that these were the folks we wanted to be a part of this.Tomás is a wonderful poet and journalist from Columbus. Last night was my first time ever meeting him in person, but I’ve admired him for a while. He wrote for Columbus Underground before I made my way over there, so I owe a lot to him for making that opportunity possible. Last night, he shared a series of new and old poems that immersed you in his world.
Selah is family. She just made her way over to Substack, but I fell in love with her writing through Medium. Selah and I met at Columbus’ Noname Book Club meetings—and together with our dear friend, Koku, have found community in Black radical literature, “scaring the hoes” music, and unadulterated silliness. Selah, who grew up right around the block from Two Dollar, blessed us with a dope piece on crushes. And yes, there’s a playlist.
Jessica shared, after the event, that being named an “emerging storyteller” put a pep in her step in the weeks leading up to last night. But I had to make a correction. Excuse my language, but fuck “emerging.” She’s here!!! Jessica, being the epitome of cool, pulled a chair up on stage and sat down as her words washed over us. She shared a poem and followed it with an essay on what the holidays teach us about grief.
Reading from her new book, Rachel shared the exclusive short story, which was beautifully compelling. And I closed us out with an essay from three years ago—before I was even on Substack—about basketball but really about Grandma Gwen.
When I started my newsletter, Feels Like Home, at the end of 2022, I dreamed of making work that felt like home to whoever read it and helped them connect more deeply with their home—or the things that make them who they are.
In connection with Rachel’s work, one’s bedroom is often a reflection of those loves. The posters on the wall. The diary under the bed. When I moved to North Carolina in middle school, my room was decked out in Carolina blue. It all feels familiar.
We imagined last night exactly as it happened and more. We read. Our friends read. The city showed up. And everywhere you looked, there was love. There was a reminder that we’re shaped by the ones who love us. That as long as we’re here, we’re home.
Thank you so much to everyone who showed up last night. Thank you for believing in us and our work. And we hope you found your new favorite writer, someone you felt compelled to write home about.
Much love!
alex!! i'm so impressed by you + this space -- would've gone in a heartbeat if i were in ohio!
wish I could’ve been here, come to chicago!!!!!!! such a beautiful space, may more come to be, may more come together