The General(ists): February 2025
The inaugural newsletter with bits and bobs of everything.
“A jack of all trades, but a master of none.”
It’s funny how the saying was rarely finished until just a few years ago, the final words being, “but oftentimes better than a master of one.”
I’ve always considered myself decent at many a thing—I can pick up hobbies and the basics of most sports or arts rather easily, but find myself losing interest not long after beginning. This is wonderful for conversation; not so wonderful for the longevity and mastery of a particular activity. But I thrived in my mediocrity as a child, was so content in the simple curiosity of the world; so why is it sometimes so hard to confront in adulthood? I suppose sometimes the world unintentionally makes us hard—we say things we don’t mean, sometimes jab a little too forcefully, and find it difficult to admit our faults. That’s life, really.
In the continuation of the new year, and in my newly minted thirties, I find myself craving a softness in retaliation to the cruelty I now so often see in the world. This newsletter I think will be a place for a collection of many things; a place for all of us to be a “jack of all trades”, to be curious, to learn about something new, to pick up a new book, to play a new game, to delight in things we maybe have left behind us until now as it has always been waiting for us to just return.
Bookish Delights
I’ve been trying to read more recently, and jumped on the bandwagon of using Storygraph to supplement my foray back into library and Goodreads (more on this later) suggestions. I’ve made it a goal just to read more this year. It’s not so much a new year’s resolution so much as it is a wish. I’ll be honest: I only read a grand total of seven books last year, which is why I wanted to find my way back to my core identity as a reader and writer. As it stands, I’m currently on my thirteenth read this month, and I’m finding myself enjoying it so much more. You’ll be able to tell I have gotten back into sci-fi, but maybe that’s a coping strategy at this point? Anyway, here are some of my favorites from this month’s backlog of titles.
To Be Taught, If Fortunate | Becky Chambers
I listened to this while painting a bathroom. That maybe says enough about my ability to concentrate because I have to incentivize the process, but damn if this didn’t gut me. It’s softer sci-fi, an exploration of what it means to be human when the humanity you’re clinging to is called into question. Beautifully written, too. It’s one of my five-star reads already.
Beautiful Country | Qian Julie Wang
In light of the political atmosphere (that I can’t escape, as an educator), I picked up Wang’s memoir which had been sitting on my shelf for the past year. I taught in Oklahoma for several years, and then again worked with students whose home lives were often much different than their peers. Wang’s memoir tells the story of her own undocumented childhood, her family’s struggles, and eventually their successes—but it was a long road. I cried through the last ten pages, and so this comes with a whole-hearted recommendation if you’re looking for a window.
Alien Clay | Adrian Tchaikovsky
This book read more like a fantasy epic—political prisoner Arton Daghdev is an ecologist interned on the alien planet Kiln and tasked with uncovering what exactly happened to the planet’s sapient species. The body horror in this reminded me of The Last of Us, and the final line… oof.
The Wayward Children Series (1-5) | Seanan McGuire
I couldn’t figure out what to read next, so I asked a Barnes & Noble employee—he recommended Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series, and I am now on book six of ten. I sort of fell into the world of fantasy portals. Whoops. The characters are loveable and the world endlessly vast; the prose is a balance between wacky and beautiful, as a bonus. I love it.
The Sworn Soldier Trilogy (1 & 2) | T. Kingfisher
This one is a bit out of place with the rest of the reads for this month just because of its horror-adjacent themes. A retelling of Edgar Allen Poe’s work “The Fall of the House of Usher”, it follows soldier Alex Easton, who uncovers the ghastly impact of a somewhat sentient fungi. I liked the lead character enough that I finished the second installment. The third comes out in the Fall of this year!
Obviously there are more titles, but that will no doubt make it to my end of year round up for 2025! I’m also currently on the lookout for serialized fiction here on Substack, so feel free to recommend some if you know some!
Writer’s Workshop
I used to think that in order to “be a writer” I must be published somewhere and receive that external validation — I have since found out as I’ve gotten older that in many ways success as a writer is not measured by major publications, wealth, or fame, but instead is an intentional act.
This month was about reclaiming my identity as a writer as much as it was about being a reader again in my thirties. Take a look at what I’ve been up to:
My personal essay “I am a Writer” explores what it means to engage in creation, imposter syndrome, and embracing the mess.
I’m beginning a serial flash fiction series—We’re Still Here, that explores the meeting place between nostalgia and the future. Most places and characters within are based on real memories or people, and I hope to flesh out the world more as I tell the story of a small Oklahoma town.
Check out NYT’s Tiny Love Stories—I submitted a piece last year that was recently published in this particular column. (You can find submission instructions here.)
I’ve been slowly working on a cozy fantasy with a dash of eldritch horror (odd combination, I’m aware), currently entitled Simple Pleasures. I tend to mix up outlining with some free writing, so I’m finding what sticks and what doesn’t.
For my other completed novel, A Hole in the Universe, I am looking for beta readers — I’ve decided to go the route of self-publishing and if I do this, I’ve always done better with outside pressure on me!
Gametime
I try to find time for all of my hobbies, and sometimes writing is not the escape I want it to be. Sometimes I fall into the stories that others have mapped out — video games have long been a medium for storytelling I love, and so it makes sense I would gravitate toward them. I played a few news ones in the past few months, and just finished a few others. These two have been my favorites (besides all of the Stardew Valley I’ve been playing, of course).
Duck Detective: The Secret Salami
I’m a sucker for a theme, and this game doled it out in spades. It’s a tongue-in-cheek retelling of a classic noir mystery, but with — you guessed it — a duck detective at the center of an intense robbery of the salami kind. I love deduc(k)tion games, and so this game satisfied my craving for one!
Spiritfarer
Just recently finished this one — it is beautifully rendered and alongside its resource management gameplay, the story frequently brought me to tears. You play as a guide in the world between life and death, where souls aren’t quite ready to move on. It is a story about love as much as it is about loss; about saying goodbye even when you’re not quite ready to.
Hobby of the Month
If anyone knows me for more than a day, they’ll know that I picked up figure skating in my mid-twenties. And then, when I had the chance (and the skills), I joined a theatre on ice team. It has been six years since I began that journey, and since then I have made lifelong friends, traveled to national competitions, and have had the unreal opportunity to represent Team USA at an international Theatre on Ice competition in Bordeaux, France. I had to take a break the first half of the season this year due to personal reasons, but I am back for the second half of this season and so excited for the future.
With everything that has happened this week, and with the tragedy also impacting my club, I will save some of these stories for a time when the wounds are less fresh and my community has time to heal. More on this later.
I never really liked country music growing up—hadn’t found anything by which I resonated within the lyrics. The drinking, the dancing, the fierce loyalty to red dirt play time and wide-open blue skies. With the occasional tornado, of course. So you’ll forgive me that I find it ironic that the lines “I keep runnin' but I'm standin' still / Pray for peace, but I need the thrill” from Luke Combs’ “Ain’t No Love in Oklahoma” resonates. Now that I live half a country away, I think about what home is more often than not. About how I felt the need to run, but get overwhelmed by the magnitude of the world’s problems. About how I crave softness and tranquility, but also literally cannot stop myself from go, go, going.
The difference now is that I don’t think I’m alone, and hopefully Head Beyond Home will become a place we can build from the ground up.
Until next time,
Sam