New essay up today! Thinking about the perennial accusation of memoirs as self absorbed. open.substack.com/pub/anniesan...

My new essay in @ecotonemagazine.bsky.social is free to read online for the next two weeks :) ecotonemagazine.org/nonfiction/w...

New essay on memory and caring for our inner selves :) anniesand.substack.com/p/tending-th...

New essay up today! open.substack.com/pub/anniesan...

Last month I published an essay in @ecotonemagazine.bsky.social and yesterday received this beautiful postcard from a total stranger. Tell your favorite writers you love their work! They certainly don’t hear it enough.

Just walked into a bar and the bouncer said “I remember you.” I was not aware I’d been in that bar before 🙈

A guy at this coffee shop just ordered a quad-shot cappuccino. Can’t decide if I’m afraid for him or afraid of him.

Today so far:

Wrote a little essay about Death Valley, infinity, and the new year :) open.substack.com/pub/anniesan...

Pretty pleased with that

Sleeping in the floor of the airport, my least dirty laundry for a pillow, an audiobook for my lullaby.

Browsing an airport bookstore where Charles Dickens, Ada Limón, and the Quran are all shelved under nonfiction 🙈

Babysitting a toddler and realizing I’ll have the Bluey theme stuck in my head for the rest of my life.

The problem with visiting family during the holidays is that by the time we get to Christmas Eve I cannot people anymore.

Death Valley sand dunes 🖤

Finding quiet in the modern world is sneaking off to the Starbucks for an hour—then wearing ear plugs under noise-cancelling headphones—to do some sketchbook work.

Me after eating my weight in cheese

Seen in a diner today. Font design is important

If, like me, the dark and the cold are dragging down your spirits, I wrote a little essay for warmth. open.substack.com/pub/anniesan...

Just found the most wonderfully absurd satin 80s dress at the thrift store

Whenever my piece-of-junk laptop dies, its clock reverts to 6:00 pm on New Years Eve, 1969. Probably just some snarled code, but I like to believe the ghost in my machine is sending a cryptic message.