Hi there,

It’s dark over here on the east coast. Rainy, chilly, the trees are bare. Nature is asking us to slow down. To simmer something hot on the stove, to put on our warmest socks and do the things that make us feel cozy and cared for.

In this writers opinion it’s okay to do a little less this time of year. To reflect and reset. To gather close to people who feel like the missing sunlight. It’s okay to just get by.

I didn’t know what I would write about this month and so I let my mind wander and didn’t over think this one. Today I’m talking about writing and loneliness (or not!). I’m also sharing a story that my dad had published (Go Dad!).

This letter is short and sweet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take long minute to read it. Yes. Please do that. Take a minute for yourself.

I’m so glad you’re here.

This is a sentiment that I’ve heard over and over since starting my writing journey. Not to invalidate anyone’s experience, but I’ve never found it to be true. 

Writing rekindled one of my oldest friendships. My childhood friend and I started talking off-handedly about writing which led to monthly zoom meetings which led to her taking an editing course which led to her now being my editor!

Writing is a shared interest that allowed me to stay connected to an amazing co-worker long after we stopped working together. We trade pages, share opportunities and cheer each other on.

Writing led me to a podcast which led me to an online course which led me to a chat board where I met a new friend and critique partner who is now an integral part of my writing circle.

I started the Critique and Cafécito writing group not because I felt alone, but because I knew I wasn’t. 

Every time we meet I see that moment where a writer takes a deep breath and dares to share. Then I see the moment post-share when the group offers affirmation, advice and enthusiasm. The writer lets out that breath they’ve been holding. 

It’s okay. They get it. I’m not alone. 

When you love something that is bigger than yourself you are connected to its past, present and future. For all of human history people have sat down and put rock to stone, pen to paper, fingers to keyboard in the hopes that they would imprint a part of themselves on the world. That truth makes me feel both minuscule and mighty. I’m not the first to imagine, the first to doubt, the first to marvel that I actually got the words in the right order. And I won’t be the last. 

So when it’s just me in my room with my computer, or me at the airport with my overpriced notebook or me on a walk desperately recording voice memos—I’m not alone. I’m infinite.

For the Bookish section this month I’m so excited to share the work of another writer. My dad, Joe, has had multiple short stories published in online magazines. I really love this one!

Speaking of universal writer struggles across time…my dad did a whole round of edits for the magazine only to realize they never saved. He then had to re-do all the edits in just a few days. 

Every. Writers. Worst. Nightmare.

Joe/Dad…you are not alone. 

Check out, To Gettysburg and Back by Joe Del Castillo.

To Gettysburg and Back" is a love story, set in 1970, between two college students who are deeply affected by the events around them and how it may affect their futures. Romantic, funny, and bittersweet, the story implies that although the present is, of course, always with us, the past, as well, can be just as immediate.  

I’m wishing you much light and love in this season of rest and reset.

May your soups be hearty, my your coffee be strong, may your socks be warm.

And if you start to feel lonely, which is super real this time of year, try writing it down. You’re not the first. You won’t be the last. And at the very least, I am here with you.

Much loves,

Cat