I read your wonderful newsletter, and then I went straight off and bought The Long Delirious Burning Blue! (I already have Hagitude and If Women Rose Rooted!) Oh my goodness! Different circumstances, but bloody hell, it was like you were writing about my life! Thank you so much for all your stories.
Substackers might not be surprised to hear that it’s a crazy-making business having your words out in the world, I definitely wouldn't be on my second book now without an army of generous-hearted folk cheerleading me along. You giving The perimenopause Journal a spot in your newsletter here is such a boost Sharon, thank you so much. I wrote a bit about writers leaning in and paying it forward here: https://www.katecodrington.co.uk/it-takes-a-village/
This is so fascinating - I often get that cut-string, lost-plot feeling in the space between Christmas and New Year. I feel a creeping quiet and gloom around my projects, which almost always bursts back into life just a few days into January (sometimes a little later). I read a lot in that window but stories get stuck behind my teeth. I wonder what it is, that makes certain times of year feel like unnatural pauses - like the opposite of a linchpin. I've never heard someone else talk about it - but now you have I wonder if it's just a normal part of writing? Very much wishing you a speedy recovery and that the plot picks you up again properly soon. H x
As a total aside, I can't stand the term that Eleanor Mills coined "queenager"-it's so coy, new agey, instagrammy- a denial of the actual heights and depths of real aging .
I'm not a fan of it myself. There's more to midlife than the queen archetype, and the word reminds me too much of 'teenager'. But Eleanor has some good wisdom to share anyway.
Dear Sharon, I am pleased that you are on the mend in a very positive way!!! I agree the desert is a fiercely hot and arid land. I should know I have lived in the desert now since 2004: For a good 20 years.
Every summer I find my house overwhelmed with ants everywhere. I hate ants. They come up from their cool hiding places in the Earth and always find a way into my kitchen...it's awful. The good thing about the arid desert land is that there are hiding places in the mountain lands where I sometimes go to swim. Lucky for me I do live in a 55+ community and I enjoy our two jacuzzi(s) and an oversized pool where I enjoying swimming. Also, since we are a community, I have made some great friends and we talk to each other all of the time. My social life is full here. Also, since I own two lots I have planted palm trees and rosewood trees and I love to sit out underneath my gardening creation. During the wintertime, the snow birds return from their hideouts in Canada or elsewhere in the cooler areas around the USA. When they return the place is very busy with all sorts of activities and concerts and drinks around the pool. Still, a pleasant vacation to England would definitely be my cup of tea during the summer months. Or Ireland, I have been there!!! Or Norway, Sweden or Iceland....those places sound delicious for summertime. Anyways, I am so pleased that you are back on track and feel yourself to be more like you. Blessings and Healthy times before you.
Dear Sharon-- When you mentioned that the summer is often a time of disruption- I thought of my own experiences each spring. One day a guide told me about The Book of Houses: An Astrological Guide to the Harvest Cycle in Human Life by Robert Cole. In this slim volume I was able to see how the unique times of planting, harvest, rest and seeding show up in my life. It turns out that the months prior to my May birthday are indeed a time before planting, a time for contemplation and slowness. I'd felt it for years but because of the school calendar I stayed in a rhythm of "FINAL PROJECTS." Then I taught my bigger events in the summer when my energies are actually need more rest. When I learned about my harvest cycle it changed my yearly work rhythms. I've also learned to expect that May and June may take me down under where I encounter my grief stories, the pressing under- or pressing from-- depression. Don't know if this matches up for you. But, its one of those mysteries I wish I'd learned sooner.
This was such an enjoyable piece to read, Sharon. I hope your wrist is on the mend. I read about your forthcoming Wise Women ages ago in the UK Bookseller, so it's lovely to hear it's almost here! Great to follow in the footsteps of Angela Carter and bring long-lost stories of women back to readers.
I'm always so heartened to hear from other people about how much they too struggle in the summer. I typically keep my thoughts about this season close to the vest because I don't want to be a damper on other people's joy, but I find every day to be such a vitality-draining slog. This year, I decided to take several online classes so I'd have something to look forward to, and that's helped a lot, but still, I look at the calendar and count off the days. For those who feel similarly, it's now just 7 more Fridays till the fall begins - we can do it!
The book cover is gorgeous Sharon. I will definitely be ordering it. I very much relate to the loss of oneself in the brightness of summer. I now live in Sweden and we have those very long days of constant light in the summer. There is such a pressure to do, do, do. I pull away as it jangles at my nerve endings …. When the days start getting shorter I quite literally feel a relaxing if my shoulders and an exhale of tension that I had not realized I was holding. Summer is so much about blooming and bounty and giving in a way, autumn and winter are about tending to our roots and nourishment. We are our own gardens in a way. I cannot wait for the mulch of autumn shadows. Healing for your wrist!
Thank you for your voice, Sharon, both in this email and in our Hearth gathering today.
I find it compelling to think about mid-summer and what it means, as we head towards fall.
Unaccustomed heat here has found me strangely listless, as I welcome a thunderstorm coming in (strange for Quebec). But there's buoyancy, too, in the ripening to come. I'm looking forward to cooler weather next week.
All good wishes for continued healing of your wrist!
Jee, while I was still recovering from your article with the bird who searched for a thorn to fall in to excel and sing the most beautiful song ever heard, one that made God smile ... your body decided to fall in one ... I hope good will come out of it and your wrist will recover well, together with all that wishes to be healed. And the summer will at least be gentle and kind for you and soon turn into autumn! Together with spring my favorite season too.
Well, you've done very well typing all this! I was born in July and loved the heat when I was younger, but the humidity is very draining! I read somewhere that in Asian countries the high humidity is affecting people like the lack of sunlight over here during winter. I also read somewhere that in summer the rate of suicide is much higher at the height of summer than in mid winter. I think a lot of it has to do with our heightened expectations of summer. It's supposed to be the highlight of the year with everyone enjoying a happy time with friends and family, sipping sangria at the beach in some exotic resort. When reality kicks in people feel short changed. I feel at odds if my low mood doesn't reflect the sunny weather outside. It's already feeling autumnal 🍂 out there with trees shedding leaves and the sunlight becoming hazy. I love autumn and spring as they're liminal seasons.
Empathy! Broken anything related to the hands must be such a nightmare. And also much empathy about the mid-summer thing. Various doctors throughout my life have speculated about reverse seasonal affective disorder which is apparently an actual thing.
I can only imagine how awful Macon must have been. I lived in SE Georgia, about an hour from Savannah, for about 10 years, early in my career (we taught at Georgia Southern University). Our university community was fine; the town was a cultural experience as a friend coined it.
I love Midsummer and all the light. If I have to get up at 4:00 a.m. to get out the door for Bird Time, that's okay. I have the dazzling blue evening sky at 9:00 p.m. when I'm coming home from meetings. I grow my garden and work on summer camp staff with my sons. By October, I'll have to turn on my light therapy lamp in the mornings, so I don't start the day with the Black Dog.
Firstly, I wish you a speedy, pain-free and full recovery.
And then to express my gratitude for reading your thoughts about summer. Since I’ve been following the wheel of the year, I’ve grown to love autumn and winter; the quiet, the peace, and the time to go within the darkness and reflect. I work in education and by summer I’m often exhausted but there’s so much expectation to “get out and make the most” of what ever good weather we get. I feel guilty for staying inside when the sun is shining. Someone said I was ‘ridiculous’ recently when I mentioned that summer was my least favourite season, like I was being deliberately contrary. So to hear you and others in this comment thread also express a preference for the darker, colder months has made me feel a little less weird and a little less alone. Thank you.
I read your wonderful newsletter, and then I went straight off and bought The Long Delirious Burning Blue! (I already have Hagitude and If Women Rose Rooted!) Oh my goodness! Different circumstances, but bloody hell, it was like you were writing about my life! Thank you so much for all your stories.
Glad you enjoyed it :-)
Substackers might not be surprised to hear that it’s a crazy-making business having your words out in the world, I definitely wouldn't be on my second book now without an army of generous-hearted folk cheerleading me along. You giving The perimenopause Journal a spot in your newsletter here is such a boost Sharon, thank you so much. I wrote a bit about writers leaning in and paying it forward here: https://www.katecodrington.co.uk/it-takes-a-village/
Ah, you do my heart good x (Though I don't recognise that Sharon Blackie. Who is mostly cooking tea and covered in dog hair.)
This is so fascinating - I often get that cut-string, lost-plot feeling in the space between Christmas and New Year. I feel a creeping quiet and gloom around my projects, which almost always bursts back into life just a few days into January (sometimes a little later). I read a lot in that window but stories get stuck behind my teeth. I wonder what it is, that makes certain times of year feel like unnatural pauses - like the opposite of a linchpin. I've never heard someone else talk about it - but now you have I wonder if it's just a normal part of writing? Very much wishing you a speedy recovery and that the plot picks you up again properly soon. H x
Wishing you excellent healing, Sharon.
As a total aside, I can't stand the term that Eleanor Mills coined "queenager"-it's so coy, new agey, instagrammy- a denial of the actual heights and depths of real aging .
I'm not a fan of it myself. There's more to midlife than the queen archetype, and the word reminds me too much of 'teenager'. But Eleanor has some good wisdom to share anyway.
Dear Sharon, I am pleased that you are on the mend in a very positive way!!! I agree the desert is a fiercely hot and arid land. I should know I have lived in the desert now since 2004: For a good 20 years.
Every summer I find my house overwhelmed with ants everywhere. I hate ants. They come up from their cool hiding places in the Earth and always find a way into my kitchen...it's awful. The good thing about the arid desert land is that there are hiding places in the mountain lands where I sometimes go to swim. Lucky for me I do live in a 55+ community and I enjoy our two jacuzzi(s) and an oversized pool where I enjoying swimming. Also, since we are a community, I have made some great friends and we talk to each other all of the time. My social life is full here. Also, since I own two lots I have planted palm trees and rosewood trees and I love to sit out underneath my gardening creation. During the wintertime, the snow birds return from their hideouts in Canada or elsewhere in the cooler areas around the USA. When they return the place is very busy with all sorts of activities and concerts and drinks around the pool. Still, a pleasant vacation to England would definitely be my cup of tea during the summer months. Or Ireland, I have been there!!! Or Norway, Sweden or Iceland....those places sound delicious for summertime. Anyways, I am so pleased that you are back on track and feel yourself to be more like you. Blessings and Healthy times before you.
Dear Sharon-- When you mentioned that the summer is often a time of disruption- I thought of my own experiences each spring. One day a guide told me about The Book of Houses: An Astrological Guide to the Harvest Cycle in Human Life by Robert Cole. In this slim volume I was able to see how the unique times of planting, harvest, rest and seeding show up in my life. It turns out that the months prior to my May birthday are indeed a time before planting, a time for contemplation and slowness. I'd felt it for years but because of the school calendar I stayed in a rhythm of "FINAL PROJECTS." Then I taught my bigger events in the summer when my energies are actually need more rest. When I learned about my harvest cycle it changed my yearly work rhythms. I've also learned to expect that May and June may take me down under where I encounter my grief stories, the pressing under- or pressing from-- depression. Don't know if this matches up for you. But, its one of those mysteries I wish I'd learned sooner.
This was such an enjoyable piece to read, Sharon. I hope your wrist is on the mend. I read about your forthcoming Wise Women ages ago in the UK Bookseller, so it's lovely to hear it's almost here! Great to follow in the footsteps of Angela Carter and bring long-lost stories of women back to readers.
Ah thank you! I've forwarded your piece onto Sarah Savitt, the current publisher at Virago too. Though perhaps they're familiar with it already?
Thank you, Sharon. No, I don’t think Sarah will have seen it- it was published in a journal for A Level students last year - so that’s great.
I'm always so heartened to hear from other people about how much they too struggle in the summer. I typically keep my thoughts about this season close to the vest because I don't want to be a damper on other people's joy, but I find every day to be such a vitality-draining slog. This year, I decided to take several online classes so I'd have something to look forward to, and that's helped a lot, but still, I look at the calendar and count off the days. For those who feel similarly, it's now just 7 more Fridays till the fall begins - we can do it!
Here, the autumn months of the year are September, October and November so I'm telling myself happily that there are only 27 more sleeps ...!
The book cover is gorgeous Sharon. I will definitely be ordering it. I very much relate to the loss of oneself in the brightness of summer. I now live in Sweden and we have those very long days of constant light in the summer. There is such a pressure to do, do, do. I pull away as it jangles at my nerve endings …. When the days start getting shorter I quite literally feel a relaxing if my shoulders and an exhale of tension that I had not realized I was holding. Summer is so much about blooming and bounty and giving in a way, autumn and winter are about tending to our roots and nourishment. We are our own gardens in a way. I cannot wait for the mulch of autumn shadows. Healing for your wrist!
Thank you for your voice, Sharon, both in this email and in our Hearth gathering today.
I find it compelling to think about mid-summer and what it means, as we head towards fall.
Unaccustomed heat here has found me strangely listless, as I welcome a thunderstorm coming in (strange for Quebec). But there's buoyancy, too, in the ripening to come. I'm looking forward to cooler weather next week.
All good wishes for continued healing of your wrist!
Jee, while I was still recovering from your article with the bird who searched for a thorn to fall in to excel and sing the most beautiful song ever heard, one that made God smile ... your body decided to fall in one ... I hope good will come out of it and your wrist will recover well, together with all that wishes to be healed. And the summer will at least be gentle and kind for you and soon turn into autumn! Together with spring my favorite season too.
Best wishes for continued and well healing!
Well, you've done very well typing all this! I was born in July and loved the heat when I was younger, but the humidity is very draining! I read somewhere that in Asian countries the high humidity is affecting people like the lack of sunlight over here during winter. I also read somewhere that in summer the rate of suicide is much higher at the height of summer than in mid winter. I think a lot of it has to do with our heightened expectations of summer. It's supposed to be the highlight of the year with everyone enjoying a happy time with friends and family, sipping sangria at the beach in some exotic resort. When reality kicks in people feel short changed. I feel at odds if my low mood doesn't reflect the sunny weather outside. It's already feeling autumnal 🍂 out there with trees shedding leaves and the sunlight becoming hazy. I love autumn and spring as they're liminal seasons.
Empathy! Broken anything related to the hands must be such a nightmare. And also much empathy about the mid-summer thing. Various doctors throughout my life have speculated about reverse seasonal affective disorder which is apparently an actual thing.
I've been claiming reverse seasonal affective disorder since I lived in Macon, Georgia for a yer back in the late 90s ... It's a thing!
I can only imagine how awful Macon must have been. I lived in SE Georgia, about an hour from Savannah, for about 10 years, early in my career (we taught at Georgia Southern University). Our university community was fine; the town was a cultural experience as a friend coined it.
Ha! It was a revelation, for sure.
I love Midsummer and all the light. If I have to get up at 4:00 a.m. to get out the door for Bird Time, that's okay. I have the dazzling blue evening sky at 9:00 p.m. when I'm coming home from meetings. I grow my garden and work on summer camp staff with my sons. By October, I'll have to turn on my light therapy lamp in the mornings, so I don't start the day with the Black Dog.
Firstly, I wish you a speedy, pain-free and full recovery.
And then to express my gratitude for reading your thoughts about summer. Since I’ve been following the wheel of the year, I’ve grown to love autumn and winter; the quiet, the peace, and the time to go within the darkness and reflect. I work in education and by summer I’m often exhausted but there’s so much expectation to “get out and make the most” of what ever good weather we get. I feel guilty for staying inside when the sun is shining. Someone said I was ‘ridiculous’ recently when I mentioned that summer was my least favourite season, like I was being deliberately contrary. So to hear you and others in this comment thread also express a preference for the darker, colder months has made me feel a little less weird and a little less alone. Thank you.
I hear and feel you. Call it my English ancestors, but i stay inside in summer always afraid to burn my reddish skin full of spreckels. I love fall!