For a brief period of time in the fall of 2020, I was ferociously jealous of a woman named Kelsey who I had met once (briefly) years earlier on the roof of a NYC apartment where I knew almost nobody.Â
Kelsey is the childhood best friend of a close college friend of my sister’s, and the tension came when I learned that my sister engaged quite closely with Kelsey’s email newsletter, in which Kelsey shared personal photo essays and short reflections.Â
My loathing reached its peak over Thanksgiving 2020 with Catherine sprawled across the red couch in her sun-soaked living room in San Francisco, buried in something she was writing on her laptop and lost to the world. The third or fourth time she snuck away from our gathering to tap away on her keyboard, I learned that she was crafting a lengthy response to this writer’s newsletter. She eventually bcc’d me on her reply, a gorgeous reflection on her 28th year of life. The response was poignant and personal. In it, she shared little moments I hadn’t heard about and big moments I had. It made me cry, and also provoked an unexpected outrage: what other parts of my sister were being shared with this near-stranger that weren’t being shared with me?!
For the rest of that visit to San Francisco, we riffed on my fake hatred of Kelsey, but that moment set off a few small changes for me. It made me think a lot about the parts of the people I’m closest with that I might not be privy to, and, in turn, the parts of me that my loved ones might want to see more of. Perhaps my sister would like to read my letters to Tricia or the things I jot down in my journal in moments of exhaustion or elation.
It also led me, eventually and with much encouragement, to start my own newsletter. This Grasshopper is one year old today. This little project has helped me reflect, carve out more time to write, and share more of myself with those of you who have followed along on this project. I’ve gained confidence, writing faster and editing less. I love the memories that get entrusted to my inbox in response, which are often quite vulnerable. I feel unexpectedly closer to my own experiences and closer to my readers.
Before any of that, though, reading Catherine’s response pushed me to subscribe to Kelsey’s newsletter, Lucky Rigatoni, which comes out reliably each Tuesday. I’ve come not only to admire Kelsey’s commitment to sharing intimate quotidian moments but also, like my sister, to feel close to Kelsey through her writing. For our part, Catherine and I made a pact to bcc each other whenever we respond to Kelsey. If you like This Grasshopper and wish I released it weekly, Kelsey’s work might be for you. Just promise me you’ll bcc me if you respond to her emails.Â
This week’s art is a 35mm film photograph by none other than my writer friend Kelsey Swintek. You can see and read more of Kelsey’s work on her website and by subscribing to her weekly newsletter.