I haven't spent holiday season in the expected way for about seven plus years now. For the first few, I felt like I was being roasted alive. I wondered if I was a torturer for refusing. It hurt to my marrow then charred me. Well? I consider it an accomplishment that I didn't turn back regardless, even at times when it was lonely. That was a lot of the time. Until recently.

Some of my stories and books come from what my journey has allowed me to learn. What I know allows me to make my work from a confident, sincere place. If you've read any of my work and feel like I'm describing your life, it's probably because l've been through that thing too, or was going through it at the time of writing.

Anyway! This holiday szn, I saw my sibling. He gifted me these photographs of myself as a kid. I haven't stopped thinking about them since.

This is who I do it for. Every day. This January, there is more important to me than the me I was in these photographs. Let’s see how far that goes. Who knows?

I will be writing from my truest places this year. Whatever I want, whatever I want.

Take it, leave it. Hate it, crave it. I do not repent. I am well, full, whole and here.

I feel strong today, which is a relief. For some time now, I’ve been pretty burnt out. I could blame it on end of year fatigue, on how generally exhausting everything feels at the moment. But that’s not true if I’ve been tired for months (years?) now in a way that is unsustainable, is it? So, I’ve had to make some changes.

In August, when my dear friend D. asked me to say how I was honestly, I chose to respond with the full answer: an international tour for my sophomore novel was a delicious dream (because what???!!!?). In its afterglow, I was happy and anxious and delighted by all the answered prayers I was now living in; blazingly proud of myself for giving publication my best and my nerves were frayed. I felt like I was dropping the ball in some crucial areas of my life while succeeding wildly in others. I launched a book I love into an eager world while dealing with extreme and unrelenting family-related grief. The latter is still and always hard to talk about, even with people I’m closest to. How many times can one describe a horror show that keeps getting worse? Do I even want to? Not really. Yes, I was staying on top of my calendar regardless — because that is what I do — and still high off the many pleasures I got to experience in every city I touched. There is nothing like meeting my readers in person. I’d do it again and again and again. Even bigger. Even harder. No regrets. Yes. And when I got back home from all that movement, I found all I’d stowed away for later waiting for me (of course). I was keeping an expensive serene face on even though I often felt like I was just one tiny inconvenience away from a long scream. It was starting to cost me more than I could afford. There was still that same sadrage simmering under my skin from how much loss I’d still have to wrap my head around; all these suspended stressors seemed to be coming at me without mercy. I didn’t blame them, but… ah, could they pause for a sec? Again, Necessary Fiction being safely out in the world was such a relief, but that also came with the husked-out feeling of separation I sometimes get when a world I’ve been holding close is now out of my hands. Um, what else? My new life was veritably gorgeous and demanding and yes, the life I left behind was still in what looked like irredeemable shambles. I was still grinding hard in response to my worries about life admin: bills, security, stability, balance; worried all the ways I was escaping, worried about how much I worry, tired to the bone, exhausted, sometimes afraid to wake up because a new morning meant another to do list, flaking a lot on people I love because the thought of leaving the house or being seen could sometimes make me want to break into a sobbing fit. I told her about the decision fatigue, about what the estrangement randomly does to my blood pressure, about the memories that kept trying to haunt me at night, about how that was fucking up my sleep, about the bloody annoying brain fog and how hard it feels on bad days to hold on to a train of thought—

until I couldn’t type anymore.

She read my words, validated them, reminded me that anyone would be tired juggling all those factors at once, and then told me with such deep love that I’d have to first name what I was experiencing — burnout — and take it seriously because I was now officially at the point where in saner climes, I’d have been asked to stop working for at least a year, in order to rest and recover. She also blew my brain open with a concept that serves as the thermometer I use to ascertain my own wellness on a daily and sometimes hourly basis: “you need to stop, your check engine light is on.” As someone who loves to drive and has an intense relationship with my car, I knew what that meant. She was right. So: is my check engine light on right now? has become my question. Sometimes it still is, so I know to be careful. On days when my answer to that is a clear yes, I’m cancelling everything.

After the conversation, I realized/remembered/re-experienced something else: I’m not good at resting. I’ve been trying for months now, by taking as much off my plate as I can. Recovery fluctuates and I guess that’s okay. Today is a better day than the entirety of last week for instance where I was scared out of my mind that something I’d been dreading for years had finally happened to someone I loved. When I confirmed at the end of the week that that wasn’t the case, even the relief was heavy. I had a wild panic attack that my love talked me out of, and then entered a numb shell I’m still crawling out of. I hadn’t experienced one in at least a year.

Where I am now, is in recovery. To be honest with you, most days, I just can’t give a damn. I don’t know what to say to anyone, I don’t know how to be there, how to catch up, how to do more than take care of my body’s needs and while it feels like failing, the truth is what it is: I don’t know and I can’t. Part of why I kept trying to hold it all was out of fear of what or who I’d lose if I didn’t keep ‘showing up.’ But if I don’t have myself at the end of all that performance, what’s the point? So, for now, I’m at bare minimum with every single thing and okay with that. I don’t know who or what will be left by the time I recover my capacity but this is something I just have to accept for now. I want me more than I want the grind. I want me more than I want to look helpful and consistent. I want to sustain me because I’m the one who has to live in my skin.

In many ways, this has been a year of delights, of new ground, of yeses. Today, I spent some time looking back on the year, and can’t believe how many miracles have happened. What a life. I am grateful (for my person, my people, my community, my work, my home, my readers who have lifted beyond my wildest imaginations). I’m happy. I’m assured. I’m taking it easy. All in all, I am here. Just here. One deep breath at a time.

Here are some quotes I’ve been thinking about recently:

• this one from Miranda July’s newsletter:

“When I’m trying to decide if I’ve done right or wrong, if my pain is healthy or headed for depression, if I’m a useless person for not doing the work I said I would, etc — I think: I don’t know. I don’t know right now. Instead of arguing with myself or convincing myself of my goodness or trying to guide myself back to the healthy path I just float in the strangely sturdy feeling of really having no idea. Built into this is the sense that answers will come, the knot will be untied, but not with effort on my part. Instead through more and more of this “I don’t knowing” which feels like floating on my back, being held up by something other than my own muscling.”

• This image below contains words written by Yumi Sakugawa whose words have been an anchor. I shared it on Instagram to remind myself. Many people felt they could relate too, so I’m sharing here as well.

  

• This one line from Dave’s new album, which I loved:

  “I just pray that my purpose can justify my pain. I just pray that my purpose can justify my pain.”

Listen to the album.

• From my brother a year ago:

  “More importantly, you need to be well. If you’re not well, you cannot help. And we need you around. All of us who love you, need you around.”

• A sentence I loved from the Aaron Pierre profile for Men’s Health magazine:

  “Pierre often says that his main criterion for success is earning his own respect.”

• I enjoyed watching this:

• & this:

• “Somehow through my relationship and my deep love for my fans I really accepted that I can do it all as long as I am the one who is creating the storm instead of the one just standing in the center of it. So instead of being haunted by the birds I will become one of them. And I’ll be fine. Because it’s my dream and no one else’s. I’ll decide for myself how this ends.”

— Lady Gaga for Rolling Stone Cover Story

• Justin Beiber’s ‘Everything Hallelujah’ feels to me like being sleepy on a cloud. I could listen to it daily, and I have been. Find it if you haven’t already.

• This line from Jeannette Winterson’s most recent newsletter:

“Let’s put it like this.

I can change the story because I am the story.”

I hope all is well wherever you are in the world, in your mind, or body.

Remember to take care. And please send me fun recommendations if you have any for me.

With love and truth,

Eloghosa xxx

Here’s where I’ll be if you want to come and find me:

USA

• In New York, on publication eve — aka the 21st of July — I’ll be in conversation with Nicole Dennis Benn at McNally Jackson Seaport. We will be talking in depth about the characters, but also about life, love and stories. There’ll be books at the venue and I’ll be signing after! For tickets and more information, click here. Or:

ELOGHOSA AT MCNALLY

• On the 22nd of July, I will be in conversation with my incredible editor, Jake Morrissey at the New York Public Library, for their Seven Stories Up series. We will be talking about the novel, the process of getting it into final shape and answering questions from the audience. It’s also official drop day and I’ve never been in the same space as my book before on release date, so I know this will feel extra special for me and everyone I’ll get to see.

RSVP HERE

• On the 27th of July, I will be at the Free Black Women’s Library in Brooklyn bringing Necessary Fiction to life in the best way. This is an interactive event, and I’ll be co-creating the experience with readers. I love that day already.

COME THROUGH

UK

• On the 30th of July, on UK publication eve, I’ll be hosted by the West Kirby Bookstore in Merseyside. It’s the day before official release but all attendees will get to go away with signed copies of Necessary Fiction! Oh, and they have an incredible wine selection! You can buy tickets here:

ELOGHOSA AT WEST KIRBY

• On the 31st of July, aka official drop day, I’ll be celebrating with readers in person at Foyles Charring Cross, London. As part of the evening, I’ll be in conversation with Irenosen Okojie. We’ll be talking in detail about the book, taking questions from the audience, I’ll sign and then we’ll all get to talk after. Won’t lie, I’m gassed. Truly cannot waiiiit to celebrate the day with you. RSVP/get tickets below:

ELOGHOSA AT FOYLES

• On the 4th of August, I’ll be at Waterstones Nottingham! This will be my first time back in Nottingham since I graduated in 2015. I used to go to the Waterstones there all the time, and now my books are there. I’ll get to see them and talk to you about them, and that just feels truly miraculous. Details below:

ELOGHOSA IN NOTTINGHAM

• I’ll be in Edinburgh for a lunchtime event, at Lighthouse Books on the 5th of August. I’ve never been before so I’m looking forward to seeing what it feels like and which faces I’ll meet. If you’re around, please come by!

ELOGHOSA IN EDINBURGH

• On the evening of the August 5th, I’ll be in Glasgow at the Waterstones on Argyle Street for an activation of NF. “Eloghosa will discuss writing about their home while traveling the world, the way they use multiple viewpoints to tell one unfolding story, and the importance of creativity and connection, before signing copies of their books.” Come, come, come.

ELOGHOSA AT WATERSTONES GLASGOW

I’ll see you soon? Come with your best hugs. I’ll bring mine too.

Eloghosa xxx

ALSO! I’m on the cover of Publishers Weekly (est 1872)! This moment meant so much to me because it’s my first time on the cover of a print magazine! The Rema story from March was the first time I wrote a cover story, and now two months later, my face and form are centered like boom! I love it for me. I know there’s more like this to come, but this one’s special, so I’m soaking it up.

Here’s a part of their review, and then right below that, the COVER:

“Osunde takes a kaleidoscopic view of queer Nigerian life in this vibrant tale of a diverse group of friends and relatives and their internal struggles… Osunde shines in their voice-driven narration, smoothly integrating Nigerian Pidgin into the novel’s crystalline prose… There’s much to love in this bighearted novel.”

On Friday the 23rd of May in Lagos, I will be hosting Vermillion: A Necessary Fiction x Eloghosa Osunde experience. It’s a shapeshifting space in collaboration with A Third Space, for their series The Artist’s Living Room. I really want you there!

The space will house a living room where I’ll be activating my first public reading from Necessary Fiction, a group exhibit, a signing of your copies of V!, food and drinks right out of my storyworld (we’ll be eating and drinking variants of what your favorite characters love, with many chances to put a personal twist on things); some dynamic never-before-seen merch you can get on the spot, opportunities to preorder the new novel, and then an after party on a rooftop. A plane onto itself, Vermillion unfurls under a Friday night sky. Come see us? The circle is only made full by you.

It really mattered to me to embed a group exhibit in the space, which will be centering work by these *extraordinary* artists: Fiyin Koko, Cynthia Ugwudike, Raks, Babatunde Tribe Akande, Affen Segun (who created the art that the NF cover was built around) and Olubunmi Atere.

The afterparty will be steered by the sound collective, No New Friends. I’m so excited to experience their music and move my body to the bass.

If you’re coming to the event, please be on time, and bring a thoughtful item with you.
For the Barter Station segment, there’ll be a circle of time carved out for everyone present to put something on the table, and take something else away. You can bring anything from a beloved annotated book to a precious rock to an aged pendant, a plant, a notebook you love, a Lego box set, a bracelet, a small mirror, or even some art you’d like to give to someone who values it. Whateverrrr you would like to gift a stranger or new friend or another artist. In return, you get to take whatever permits you to have it. The only currency is agreement between participants, so bring something worth exchanging; no empty hands!

See you soon? PS: this is an intimate event with set capacity and tickets will not be restocked after they’re sold out.

Link below:

For Vermillion

I came across this review the other day, by a reader who just finished Necessary Fiction and I felt so understood. Something I was thinking about a lot while writing Necessary Fiction is how no one generation invented queerness or variants in sexuality. People have always been people, flesh and blood and hearts and minds and mess and range. There’s just more language & freedom & nuance as time rolls on. So, it was a strong goal of mine to write stories from inside that awareness. The review made me feel successful in my execution of that goal, and proud to have written a very Nigerian novel that is cross-generationally sensitive.

That’s it from me for now! I hope you’ve been well and May has been kind to you. Drop me a line if you’d like. A question, a recommendation, a thought. Anything.

Preorder links here:

NECESSARY FICTION (US)

NECESSARY FICTION (UK)

NECESSARY FICTION (NG)

Eloghosa xxxx

March was for living and triumphs and tiredness and reminders and soaring and food and giving in to my strangest impulses and tv shows and looking back on what went right and a cover story and music and generosity and honest conversations and movement and 5am bedtimes and sowing and loving and appreciating what was right in front of me.

A song that first came to me in 2021 returned, and wouldn’t leave. It still stands in my mind like a hymn. It’s called Tomorrow Silver, by Msaki and Sun-El Musician. If asked to name a top ten over the last five years, this one would easily be on it. There are fragments to my love for this song: its composition, Msaki’s vocals, the instrumental arrangement, and even just that redeemed feeling it pours over me when I listen to it. But you see those lyrics, yeah? I feel them somewhere deep. These words describe where I currently am better than I can:

“I’ve been thinking about peace and how to keep it once I’ve found it/I’ve been thinking about money and how to keep it once I have it/I’ve been thinking about love and how to keep it once I’ve made it/

you’ve been my friend on days that I’ve prayed and nothing has changed for me.”

I’ve also been thinking about God, and how I relate to God as the dimensions of my faith change. I know that the God I speak to is personal to me, and suited for my specific ehi (same meaning as ori or chi— whichever applies). I know that my access to the God I know is not necessarily widely accessible, so - to my relief - there is no longer a need to evangelise. I have conversations about God, and I maintain certain silences about God too. I know what I think of as true for me, but no matter how steadily I believe it, that doesn’t mean it’s anyone else’s. What if your spirit needs something else? A different side of God, a different face, a different form altogether? Only you can know.

Every faith builds on a story about people and God and what that relationship means. In deconstructing the faith I am coming from, I’ve been looking closer at concepts such as salvation, sanctification, repentance, eternity, forgiveness etc and the foundational story that they grow from. I have a lot of thoughts that are not for this place. But, I want to share these words below, which I wrote down some weeks ago:

What would it mean or look like to pray for God to comfort — not forgive or destroy or punish or kill — the parts of you that harden or hide because of hurt or anxiety or shame? What would it be like to have a Spiritual Fortress one could trust like that? These are some questions I can ask myself often when I am feeling the need to scrape my knees on rocks in apology or slice off parts of myself because they cannot be beheld by a Force who is too pure to look at them. My God is not too pure for me. There is no side of me that God cannot look at with ease. So, I ask these questions to remind me of what differences exist between what I know now and what I used to know. I ask them openly, so that I can be pointed back to the parts of God that are truly mine to experience. Remember, there is no version of you that falls outside of the imagination of the God who is yours, and whose you are. Some things are habit. You can learn to live in the gospel you currently believe.

Every time I put some new work out into the world, there are many quiet high points. Getting to know just how deeply other artists whose work I have digested are also transformed by what I make will never get old. Like, what a feeling! I would like to bottle it.

I have a strong memory of dancing repeatedly in front of the TV to Amerie’s One Thing in my school uniform and now, two decades later, she’s talking to her book club about my forthcoming novel. I used to read Kaveh Akbar’s poems and dissect them with friends before he read Vagabonds! and we started talking and realised we share an agent. His blurb for Necessary Fiction made my throat tight when it came in. Still does. Years ago, I was upstairs in Freedom Park Lagos, quietly beating my work into shape when a room of writers burst into applause because Marlon James had won the Booker Prize. We had never spoken then, but all six hundred and something pages of his novel A Brief History Of Seven Killings were still swimming in my mind. To know that he could win the Booker was validating, because the language in that work singed my understanding of what a novel must be. It was a timely reminder that iconic novels are about more than well-behaved prose, and following the rules of how to make a classic. Marlon has now loved and blurbed two of my books, and we share an editor. I remember being re-formed by Bassey Ikpi’s writing in her book “I’m Telling The Truth But I’m Lying.” We have had conversations since about many things, but the awe doesn’t wear off. That book is a lifesaving guide, a map, and in some ways, an interpreter for anyone trying to see their mind with more compassion and/or clarity. And Yrsa Daley Ward? Whew. An artist. My friend. A truthteller. The Catch is another book I can’t wait for you all to meet this year. Keep an eye out. Nicole Dennis-Benn is a sharp writer whose work observes the ways in which we live and then unspools all that nuance in assured prose. Another writer whose work I have always been drawn to wrote me the other day, calling NF, “a thing of beauty, a divine assignment made manifest.” It’s a blessing to see how they have all taken the time to meet, and write about my new novel in their own words.

I’ve shared the full blurbs by Yrsa, Nicole, Bassey and Kaveh in other posts. I’m sharing Amerie and Marlon James’ blurbs of Necessary Fiction below. There’ll also be a small list of recommendations to follow:

“If you’re looking for a new summer read, look no further than Necessary Fiction by Eloghosa Osunde. This is a powerful provocative story about paths, dreams, hopes, fears and survival in contemporary Nigeria.”

— Amerie, Grammy Nominated singer-songwriter and author of This Is Not A Ghost Story

1. I recently read Nnedi Okorafor’s Death of The Author. I thought it was brilliantly executed. Would recommend.

2. “Even if our hearts condemn us, we know that God is greater than our hearts, and knows all things.” — 1 John 3:20

3. I’m currently obsessed with this song called ‘petit couer’ by Yseult. She is singing for her life in there.

Looking back, it’s funny to me the ways I was considering expanding this newsletter some weeks ago. If you remember, I was thinking about making different tiers and sharing more personal essays, etc. (And yes) maybe it’s just how I’m feeling today, but like, with which energy? Lol. These are relatively calm months, and still, my days are full of other commitments. Most of my longer thoughts go straight into my journal which I write by hand to clear my cache, and my other writing is going into the manuscript I’m currently working on. I like that. I’ve also realized that turning this space into a partly paid one may change the tone for me, and my relationship to it as a playstation. I don’t want to have to figure that out. I was and am so glad to know that there are people who would willingly become paid subscribers of The Trove (thank you so much!), but to be honest with myself and with you, what I need more right now is for people who want to support me in $ ways to preorder my novel Necessary Fiction. If you have already, please consider ordering one for a friend or someone you love. If you can’t do that, please continue spreading word with me on your public channels (to social media, your mailing list or newsletter etc) or even in private.

#NecessaryFictionIsComing

Preorder links here:

NECESSARY FICTION (US)

NECESSARY FICTION (UK)

NECESSARY FICTION (NG)

In 2021, when my agents and I went to auction with publishers for the sale of Vagabonds!, there was a tight, thrilling energy running through my life. It’s still impossible to pin down in words. Heady with a restless joy, I knew that any of the four bidding publishers would be a good call for different reasons. But I didn’t just want to make a good call, I wanted to choose what was right for me and my work. Beyond the offers on the table, there were other crucial factors to consider. After the first round of conversations, I already knew I was going to go with 4th Estate. Apart from the fact that they publish some of my favourite authors, my acquiring editor, the incredible Kishani Widyaratna spoke about my work with such deep care and a vision that went beyond one book. As a debut author ravenously desiring of a career beyond a single big bang, dreaming in a tremble about book after book stretching ahead of me, I knew I was at yes, and my agent had the same gut feeling too, so we locked it in. Short story short: I have zero regrets. If I could go back in time, I would choose both 4th and Kish again, and again, and again. This backstory is why I’m so excited to (finally) be able to share with my UK readers that NECESSARY FICTION has been acquired by 4th Estate for publication on July 31st 2025! 🎉 🎊

My favorite thing about each iteration of this novel so far is that the different covers all match the energy inside. This one (below) feels like the perfect travel companion or beach read, because it is. This summer, I can’t wait to see it with you on the train or plane, in a cafe, at brunch with friends, in between sets, at bookclubs, on your way to or from a lover’s place, by a perfect sunset. Any and everywhere! Designed by Julian Humphries with base art by Affen Segun, it makes me happy even just to look at. Another detail I’m obsessed with is how it plays with the same font as the Vagabonds! UK cover, which so many of you loved so much. Liiike?!?

Anyway, enough talking. Photos + preorder link/button below to secure Necessary Fiction in hardback (on or before) publication day. PS: just to confirm once again, YES this is the year we get to hang out in person!!! I can’t wait to see you, read to you, laugh with you and sign these for you. Thank you so much for your support, and for rooting for this book along with me!

PREORDER NECESSARY FICTION HERE

As always, you can find the US cover here, and the Nigerian cover here.

E xxx

This January just gone, I was in conversation with superstar and creative genius, Rema, for the cover of Dazed. For the New Gen issue, we — i.e two Edo artists working in separate lanes — got to speak in shorthand about process, design, power, names, intention, Benin City, channeling our history into art and music, and what the near future looks like for him. What’s that if not ICONIC? Exactly!

Each artist conversation I’m blessed to have shows me something different about craft and the rigorous determination required to sustain this work. Easily one of the most exciting artists working right now and a favorite artist of mine, Rema’s work is crucial, moving and consistently inventive. But this one meant some other things to me, too: 1) when Dazed profiled me in the Impossible Issue (Autumn 2024), I mentioned that I’d been thinking about the specificity of Edo artistry and my roots in my culture, citing Rema’s work among a few others, so this feels full circle, 2) I journaled just a few weeks prior about wanting to be in community with more people from Benin doing cool shit out in the world and 3) there’s a handful of artists who I want to be in public conversation with, and Rema is one of them. So it was a specific kind of alignment, something ordained, when I opened my inbox to this ask.

There is so much to say and share and make about where we’re from. There is more to uncover about the matchless musician Rema is (morphing into.) None of it can fit into one place or time. But this was an epic place to start doing that work from. I’m grateful for what I do with words, and for what I get to learn from listening and speaking, and writing.

Click the link below for stained-glass windows into some of where we went.

Rema x Eloghosa for Dazed

Btw, my galleys for Necessary Fiction arrived a few days ago. It was an emotional moment, getting to touch a version of my SECOND book at home. Wild that this specific book that felt insurmountable at points — if I speak! — exists in tangible form in such vibrant colour. If you’ve been following my work from since before Vagabonds!, you probably have an idea how much of a journey this has been so far. But even that is just a percentage. I’m glad to still be here; I’m grateful to be alive and well enough to simply continue my work. Being the uncorrected proofs, this is not the final version of the work at all, but at least I can officially confirm to you that the book is REAL, and coming to you this July.In the mix of things I’m feeling, joy and pride are huge. Mostly, I feel fuelled beyond language because I did it… again (#AnodaBanga!) For now, they’re resting on a stool right opposite my bed so that they’re always in view. It feels good to wake up to my miracles each morning.

As the books go out through the back end, my team at Riverhead sent me this incredible test-graphic below, with some of the early blurbs we’ve received for Necessary Fiction from writers whose work I love. You’ve already seen the amazing Kaveh Akbar and Yrsa Daley Ward quotes, but there are two more below that I haven’t shared here yet from: Nicole Dennis Benn (author of Patsy) and Bassey Ikpi (author of I’m Telling The Truth But I’m Lying):

“In Necessary Fiction, Eloghosa Osunde takes us into a Lagos humming with secrets, survival, and the unbreakable bonds of chosen family. Through characters who refuse to shrink under the weight of history and shame, this novel reveals the stories we create to endure—and the love we dare to claim when we break free. Honest, gripping, and alive, Necessary Fiction challenges us to find our own truths amidst the masks we wear. Osunde’s writing shines on their characters; their imperfections become necessary and magical things. A bold, essential reminder that life, with all its bruises, is for the living. To call it one of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read is to devalue it. It demands to be felt, absorbed, and carried, like a song that refuses to leave your chest. It’s not just beautiful—it’s transformative.”

— Bassey Ikpi, New York Times Bestselling Author of I’m Telling The Truth But I’m Lying

“This book is exquisite and excruciating. It quickens your pulse and burns inside you for days. With elegant, lean, searing language, Eloghosa Osunde reminds us what it really means to be alive. A gorgeously deeply humane book, which is indeed, necessary.”

– Nicole Dennis-Benn, author of Here Comes the Sun and Patsy

Feeling: seen. Feeling: blessed.

If you’re a lover of my work, and curious about how best to support me, the answer is still and always 1) please preorder Necessary Fiction 2) share Necessary Fiction wherever you see it.

Link below to:

PREORDER NECESSARY FICTION (USA)

PREORDER NECESSARY FICTION (NG)

My staunch goal is for this book to go out as many readers in as many parts of the world as possible. Everything you do to help me get closer to that makes a world of difference to me and this book!

According to Open Country/the Roving Heights bestseller list, my debut novel, Vagabonds! has been a bestseller for three consecutive years now, since 2022 when it dropped. That’s a huge feat to me, especially at home. I remember being asked by friends before the book dropped if I was scared of/expecting negative attitudes toward the obvious queerness in the work. I wasn’t scared, though I was braced for the possibility. It wouldn’t have stopped me either way, but to see the exact opposite happening is a blessing. I’m grateful to every reader who has picked up my book, shared it, gifted it, told a friend or lover about it, stood up for the stories and/or discussed my work in book clubs across the country and continent.

This year, I look forward to being OUTSIDE for my work in a way I opted out of when Vagabonds dropped, for a number of reasons (I wanted to prove to myself that the book could pull its own weight without me having to physically burn myself out; I was exhausted because my life was both blooming and erupting at the same time; I didn’t want to travel as much as it would have required me to; it would have cost money and other intangible resources I wanted to save instead; I was both confident and terrified to step into the truth of my life’s changes etc etc etc). But this time around, and for NF? I want to feel it all in every pore. I don’t want to just have a sense of where the work has gone, I want to know for sure what is and isn’t happening there.

What that means is — in addition to doing some more exceptional unexpected work — what I want the most is to connect with as many of my readers as possible, in person, in cities all around the world. Between now and July when life picks up wild pace again, I want to work on thrilling, well-paying (!) projects of all kinds, so definitely reach out if you’ve been wanting to, and have a proposal you think I’ll be into. God willing, I’ll be in the UK, US and Europe this summer, so hit my team and I up for festivals and shoots, readings and features, panels and artist conversations, exhibits and appearances, concerts and fashion shows, brand collaborations and screen/songwriting projects etc etc. You get me. Click below to get in touch:

CONTACT ELOGHOSA

Some things I’m loving:

1. Shallipopi’s Laho is a crazy banger. I can’t get over how trippy it is to hear my language on this song, and to be immediately pulled back to specific moments from my upbringing. Especially after rinsing Benin Boys for months, I’m glad this song exists. If you haven’t heard it yet, you should listen. You might like it.

2. Doechii is another cover star for Dazed’s latest issue. Written by Kacion Mayers and styled + shot by IB Kamara, I love her cover story. I love her work. I love this shoot. Those photos? Sickening! You can find it here.

3. These two quotes by June Jordan:

i) “It goes both ways. I care for you but you have to allow me. It is actually a very similar thing with love. You have to love me. And I, well, I have to let you love me.”

& ii) “My heart is not peripheral to me.”

Perfection.

4. Solange and Wangechi Mutu in conversation for Document Journal

5. this by Danez Smith:

“say it with your whole black mouth: i am innocent

& if you are not innocent, say this:

i am worthy of forgiveness, of breath after breath”

6. this painting by Emilcar “Simil” Similien

Anyway! That’s a lot of a lot. I’m happy today, and I hope you are too. More again soon,

Eloghosa xxx

As a teenager, I spent a lot of time annotating books I enjoyed. I found it to be such a grounding habit/hobby. I’m not sure why I stopped, but I’m glad to be back in that flow again! In this letter, I’m sharing some quotes from three of my favorite recent reads:

MARTYR!

by Kaveh Akbar

“What distinguishes grace from everything else: Grace is unearned. If you've moved through the world in such a way as to feel you've earned cosmic compensation, then what you’ve earned is something more like justice, like propriety. Not grace. Propriety is correct, justice is just. There's an inescapable transactional quality: perform x good, receive y reward. Grace doesn’t work that way. It begins with the reward. Goodness never enters the equation.”

“I want them all to have been right to fear me… I want to be worthy of the great terror my existence inspires.”

“What was inevitable could still be what? Immobilizing. Eviscerating. And yes, surprising.”

“That was the high. Making something that would never have existed in the entirety of humanity had I not been there at that specific moment to make it.”

“And that was that. I think about it every day. You’re not the patient today, Sang. It’s lucky to be on the other side. It’s a good day when you’re not the patient.”

“You think there’s some nobility in being above anger?” Sang asked. “You can put a saddle on anger, Cyrus.”

"All those severe poets talking big about the wages of sin all the time," Zee added, “but nobody ever brought up the wages of virtue. The toll of trying really really hard to be good in a game that's totally rigged against goodness."

"You're a human being, Cyrus," Sang said, gently. "So was your mother. So am I. Not cartoon characters. There's no pressure for us to be ethically pure, noble. Or, God forbid, aspirational. We're people. We get mad, we get cowardly. Ugly. We self-obsess."

"Underneath being startled is the expectation of calm." Zee said, then paused. "I mean, a person gasps because the ease they were expecting was interrupted. I think probably your life hasn't taught you to expect ease."

“I couldn’t help laughing, but laughing didn’t need my help.”

ANIMAL

by Lisa Taddeo

“I saw myself as something greater than I thought I could be, and though certainly the feeling would fade, it still shone radiantly in that moment.”

“Vic once said to me, What do you have to fear, kid? You’ve lost so much. What is there left to fear?”

“I only took in art that could fell me.”

“Let me ask you something. Can you imagine what it was like for the child, growing up as the only child her parent could love?”

“I thought of the girls…who got to be eleven and twelve and thirteen, with unicorn stickers and slap bracelets. I did not get to be any of those ages. I was ten and then I was thirty, and then I was thirty-seven.”

“May you not go around the world looking to fill what you fear you lack with the flesh of another human being. That’s part of what this story is for.”

“Vic once said to me, Families are silly. The whole concept is silly. He said that because he didn’t want his family. But he would have wanted one with me. Me and him at the supermarket, pushing around a pudgy Vic Jr. in a cart, buying grape tomatoes.”

“People will call you names, she said. They are only hating themselves.”

“He looked at me. He had no conception of what I knew. Fathers never know that about their daughters. Partly it’s because they don’t want to know, but really it’s because they cannot know. It’s psychologically dangerous to see inside your daughter’s brain. And I knew so much more than most girls my age because of the way I listened.”

“And that just because you wanted connection, someone to make you feel protected, that didn’t mean you wanted someone to chain you up. To emotionally jail you.”

“A lot about Alice was a contradiction, but that was true of most beautiful women.”

“The hatred was misplaced and men like Tim, if anything, wanted you to hate them. If you told them they were not evil, they would say that yes they were. Men don’t necessarily want to be the bad guys, but they don’t want to be the ordinary ones, either.”

“You have to tell me the rest of the story, she said. We are getting somewhere.”

“when, really, strength was being unashamed to want what you want.”

“It’s what you think you are missing inside of yourself. I promise that you are missing nothing.”

“There is so much power in the way we obsess. If we could only harness it. If we would only redirect it.”

EXHIBIT

by R.O Kwon

“But still, if it’s going well, I turn powerful. I have my hair pulled high, topknot rising to God. I stop time. I’ve stolen fire, and I paint with light.”

“You want to dance on stage?” her mother asked. “Yes,” Lidija said. “It takes years to be a ballerina. It’s hard. Is this what you want?” But Lidija’s head was shaking. Impatient, she replied, “I am a ballerina.”

“Each yes had to ring loud, bright. It had to be full, a hallelujah.”

“If I could help you,” Lidija said. I waited, listening for a ghost’s rippling silk. “If I said that, Jin, would I be intruding?” “But what kind of help?” I asked, quiet. I couldn’t tell if she’d heard. Lidija closed a hand on top of fretful, knotting fingers. “Is it going to be just one kind?”

“It’s the gist of faith’s orphic pledge: loss repaid. Life going on. I held엄마’ s note; I kept it intact. I sat in the echoing church, then left. I put the note in my studio desk. If엄마 still had words to pass along, she hadn’t quite died. • Dear Lord, I thought that, if I lost You, I’d have to stop living. I kept going, in part, to still have the hope of finding You again. It’s absurd; Lord, it makes me laugh. But if, in the house of logic, my dead will not exist, I’m obliged to step outside. O Lord, each photo is for You. I spill light. I leak worship, and Lord, if I get it right, will You come back?”

“Still, Lidija’s point was made. Pitted against a clock, a pledge, she’d triumph.”

“I don’t want us dying, not in the ballet I’ll stage.” “Oh, I love that,” I said. I’d sat up, jolted. “People do love a dead girl.” “If we die, we’re quiet.” “With no opinions.” “It’s the ideal girl.”

“Put me to use, I prayed. I’d long to be a saint. Lord, I’d go as You’d will, rapt, alone in the desert, singing of You. Give me the hot schist buckling, pebbles rolling, a patch of dirt lifting me to the sun. On high, from this stylite’s column, I’d raise my hands to You. I aspired to the fanatic’s striving, a life of undivided light.”

“It lent people hope to think, Oh, if I do this, I’ll escape fresh pain. It’s nothing but a tale.”

“People calling, Do you see me? Others replied, with delight. I’m here. I do.”

a NECESSARY FICTION update:

Riverhead made this perfect animation for the book, and I love it so much! Here’s the full blurb by NYT bestselling author and National Book Award finalist, Kaveh Akbar below:

“I can’t believe how alive Eloghosa Osunde’s NECESSARY FICTION is, how supersaturated and smart. Osunde writes with the cataclysmic dazzle and sneaky spiritual ache of Denis Johnson, but pitches it toward us here in the digital age. I love their prose, their characters. “It’s not a small job to guard a tall gate,” they say, early on. What’s the gate? Hustle, heart, privacy, sex, yearning so strong it buckles you. It’s all here. The ink practically hovers off the page.”

Counting down to July 22nd is a welcome fixture in all my days at the moment. I can’t wait! Six months to go!!! Remember, you can preorder the novel here.

More from me soon,

Eloghosa <3

Happy New Year, loves!

How are you? December was such a packed month. I spent most of it in Accra and then Volta region. We got in on the night of the 12th, then cover reveal day was the 13th, the next day was my birthday, and the day after that, we moved to another airbnb for three nights. A few days later, we were off again. I got to see a waterfall I stood under as it beat my head to stillness (one of my birthday wishes), then we went to Volta for some days, and got a long overdue massage overlooking the water, had fufu and light soup for lunch almost every day, I collected new rocks, drank tequila at odd hours, slept without a care, looked out of windows, stayed close to the pool and counted as many stars as I could find. Waking up to a river and birdsong every day was so healing. I wanted that, I planned it, I booked it in, but even I didn’t know how much I needed it all. Between the responses to the announcement (thank you so much!!!), the gifts I received and how hard my chosen family showed up so hard for me, I felt baptized by grace. There was such a lightness in my body that flying didn’t feel far. In those December weeks, I cried happy tears, sad tears, grieving tears, tears of release. I ate a startling amount of oysters, devoured many a sushi boat. Zero regrets. I wished, hoped, washed, prayed, journaled, read, wrote. Christmas Day was joyful and complicated. Many reasons for that. We flew out shortly after. Being back home has felt good. It’s a reminder that I live somewhere I love, that I really made myself a haven in this place. I remember when that was a dream. In the final days in 2024, I wanted to be as quiet as possible. I was a snail lost in those liminal hours. I crossed into this new year on the wings of a prayer. It was simple and glorious. I remember thinking of 2025 as far away, just some weeks ago. But we’re halfway through the first month already, and my goodness, so much has happened. I hope you’re safe wherever you are in the world. This is a year many of us have been waiting on. I pray it is kind in all the ways we have dreamt of, even as some frightening things are going on. For me, it’s a year in which I want to live out my dreams; and it’s also a year in which I will resist the urge to rush. I’m paying closer attention to my health, moving my body and feeding it well, reading more, spending less time on social media, making more lists by hand. Necessary Fiction drops in a few months. My faith in its place in the world cannot be shaken. I look forward to everything that is coming. Thank you for supporting me, believing in my stories, amplifying my work and preordering this book so far. Thank you thank you thank you! I pray all your dreams come true this year, too. Big and small.

AN UPDATE

Below is the Nigerian cover of Necessary Fiction, which I adore! It will be published by Masobe Books on July 22nd in a coordinated drop with Riverhead. It has always been a dream of mine to have a book published in Nigeria on the same day it comes out anywhere else in the world and this time, it’s happening! As you’ll see, the cover features a blurb by the amazing Yrsa Daley-Ward, whose novel The Catch also drops this year! I’ve read it, and it so brilliant.

I asked for some questions on both Twitter and Instagram at the end of 2024, and selected some I found fascinating. Here are my answers below:

1) What do you love?

Right now: Sleep. Myself. Sushi. My people, the ones who I do life with. Silence. Seafood. Eggs (in any form: fried, soft boiled, poached, scrambled etc etc). Night wind. The moon. Looking at a specific photo of my grandmothers (both gone from this plane) smiling simply. Hearing from my core. Talking to my head. A solid seafood boil. All the books I’ve been reading that make the world recede. Oblivion.

2) What is your dream music collaboration?

Victony x Billie Eilish? Willow x Ayra? Kendrick x Bloody Civilian or Ojerime? Sarz x Moses Sumney? James Blake x Juls? Fast track me to that asap.

Personally, I want to work someday (as a songwriter, vocalist, director, witness or creative collaborator) with: Stormzy. Sampha. The Cinematic Orchestra. Little Simz. Jon Batiste. Oh, and Rema.

3) Would you ever consider making a film version of Vagabonds?

I made a short film a few years ago already actually, though we never released it publicly. What I really want is a limited/anthology series. And I know it will happen. Just a matter of time, really. So please keep calling that in with me.

4) Do you have a favourite drug? Or what’s the most interesting drug you’ve ever tried? (If you do/have done any..respectfully)

I… don’t know what that means. Jk, jk. Good question. Um, about five years ago, my answer to this was X. Then I tried shrooms (each time an altering experience) so you know, that definitely changed.

5) What do you know/have you learnt/are you learning about dream weaving?

I know that my freedom started/continues from there. I know that dreamweaving is (literally) why I could go on living beyond the unnameable. I know that if I have seen miracles before, I have reason to believe that more miracles can occur. I am learning that I can be patient with it.

6) What makes living and loving easier?

Time. Trust. Patience. Courage. And a generous, creative imagination.

7) If there was nothing to keep us in check: the law or hell. What do you think would be different?

For me, nothing. I don’t experience either of those pressures thankfully. At least not anymore. My checks are internal, and not tethered to either the law or hell.

For the world, top of mind, I think it would mean: less fear (for good and bad) and more chaos (for good and bad).

8) How impactful is faith in navigation of life?

Faith, for me, has been crucial. It has mattered in my life to believe in something. Something sturdy. Something that endures. What I believe in a buoy for me most days. Because I believe, even when I reach the end of my strength, I know there is forward still. Devotion has been my propeller in many ways. I trust. I trust. I trust my maker and my maker trusts me. No matter what is happening, my faith in God, in love, in community, and finally in the power of my work - which I do from a place of radical belief and a spiritual knowing that what I have to say is singular - remain unshakeable. Without faith, I’m not sure that I would see the point.

9) When will you share Tatafo the film with the world?

(Daniel, please!) I’m not sure, you know? I don’t know. Maybe one day, or maybe not. Who knows. I know the way we planned to release it before isn’t the way it wants to come out. So let’s see.

10) What’s your relationship with pancakes like? Have you always loved/hated them? If yes, do you enjoy making them? If yes also what’s your favourite milk to egg ratio? I am really curious about what pancakes mean to you

I liked this question! I used to love pancakes as a kid. Now, I don’t really eat them anymore. They’re a bit…much in the mouth for me. They feel heavy. Also, this question made me realize that the last time I made pancakes was about seven years ago. I want to change that.

11) What’s your favourite thing to do while you write? Do you like to use a specific colour of ink when/if you handwrite? What does your handwriting look like? What’s your favorite word to write? Do you laugh mid writing? Or chuckle? Or smile?

Black ink over everything. I might share my handwriting in a newsletter at some point this year. My current favorite words to write are: 1) trust and 2) momentum. I write in the dark, usually under my duvet. I’m pretty still. Unless of course I’ve written something I know has made the work more solid. At which point, I do a stank face, set my laptop aside and make a sound my people know means: how dare I?!? My stomach turns sweet when that happens. And then I will almost always follow up by blasting a song I love.

12) Ehem pls when is your London event because how many times will I be weeping and wailing? Please and thank you (also pls bring your merchandise with you pls)

Lmfao, drag me! Short answer: this year. We’re touring baby!

13) How soon do you see yourself surrendering yourself to another book of work? Do you have a writing ritual? Favourite moment when writing necessary fiction? What made you so sure of the book?

I wrote book three last year, and started book four. I’m somewhere in that process now. I don’t have a ritual, not really. I give myself what I need per session. But I’m not precious about it. I will write anywhere and under any condition when I really mean to.

Favorite moment writing Necessary Fiction was when I realized the protagonist of Good Boy had so much more to say. Suddenly, there was a world around the story, which meant there was more to see and show and share. The thrill of that moment imprinted on me.

What made me so sure of the book? It helped me first. It saved me first. It held me first. And with each chapter I wrote, the quality of my life improved, because my audacity increased. I’m my favorite iteration of myself today because of this work.

14) Best advice to young writers so far?

I encourage you to be as relentless as you can afford. Don’t surrender unless something inside you calls for that.

14) It’s been a year, I still don’t know what I want. Should I be worried?

No. There is time. There is time. Don’t forget that. There is time.

15) Write to us in Tatafo’s voice, please

…

16) Will this new book be a collection of shorts, or a single story?

Good question. You should read Necessary Fiction. It’s unlike anything I’ve read or written. It’s a journey, and you won’t get lost.

17) What’s something you want to get back into?

video games

CURRENTLY LOVING:

Eusexua FKA Twigs. The entire concept and rollout? Genius. And the choreo in the music video? Chef’s kiss.

Jon Batiste’s Beethoven Blues album but especially Für Elise Batiste. A wonder!

Model Home by Rivers Solomon. No words.

All Fours by Miranda July

Anaïs Cardot’s Pink Magnolia Deluxe album

Paintings by Peter Uka and Matthew Eguavoen

Reminder:

You can PREORDER NECESSARY FICTION HERE to get it the day it drops! Please tell someone you know to do the same!

A THOUGHT

Over the next few months on The Trove, I want to build an inner space to share short personal essays, detailed recommendations and/or reviews, journal entries on the process/journey to publication in July and regular curated playlists as well as candid conversations with friends. All of the above being pretty close to heart, it hasn’t felt right to do that here just yet, in a way that is accessible just by clicking a link or forwarding an email. A friend suggested, in addition to all of the above, an advice column since questions are a way I enjoy connecting with you. At first I said no to that because I don’t really enjoy giving advice in that sense, but I’ve been thinking instead of a (let’s call it) “thinking corner,” where readers can drop a detailed question/concern/thought/conversation starter/communal thought and I’ll respond with as much information as I have, and other community members can chime in too. These new features will be in a paid tier, and will of course be optional. The free posts will remain for broader life and work updates + lists so that the core parts of The Trove stay the same. I’m still figuring out how the additions will work, but I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, please let me know: does any of the above sound like a yes for you? What would you be interested in seeing from me in this space, twice every month, as a paying subscriber? What would you find thrilling?

Will appreciate any ideas or feedback you have.

Thank you for being here.

Speak soon,

Eloghosa xxx

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It’s my birthday tomorrow! But first, today, I’m OVER THE MOON WITH JOY to share the US cover of my next novel, NECESSARY FICTION! Let me tell you, I am beyond happiness, beyond words, beyond Beyond. Things happen when they’re meant to; as they’re meant to. After so much fog, I can see and feel that clearly now.

Read the full feature/exclusive reveal by People Magazine here

Can you see this cover?!?? The first time I met it, I cried. Looking at it made so many parts of the journey feel complete. The delights, the highs, the breakdowns, the doubts, the scares, the long nights, the coming together, the rigor and discipline. So much clarified itself once I saw the image, title and my name together. Suddenly, it was so much more than a manuscript. It was a book. A real one. MY BOOK. The second one. I’m going to be on Instagram (@eloosunde) in a minute shouting about some specific parts of the cover that give me happiness, so please be there. But first, I want to say: I literally cannot imagine a more perfect base than the art you see here by Affen Segun. The jacket design was brought to a fantastic finish by Lauren Peters-Collaer. I’m so grateful for how it turned out!!!

Below is the official synopsis:

Some more informal facts about Necessary Fiction:

— I believe (and say with my chest that) this is some of the best writing I’ve ever done. My voice is stronger than ever. Colder than ever. Wilder than ever. If you already know my work, you know what that means.

— Freedom is applicable everywhere, no matter where you’re from. And this book is ultimately about that. If you’re wondering if it’s for you, it probably is.

Out in hardback July 22nd 2025 via @riverheadbooks, you can PREORDER NOW to get it on or before the day it drops. No delays. No waiting. Straight to you the second it’s ready, because you’re hot like that ♨️❤️‍🔥✨

Link here: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/760792/necessary-fiction-by-eloghosa-osunde/

I’ll be announcing two other territories shortly, so if you’re elsewhere in the world, there’ll be more word soon.

I’m immeasurably more proud of this work than I can say, and have felt so encouraged by your (im)patience & trust since I first told you its name. Thank you so much for always putting your $ where your love is when it comes to me. I love you for knowing the difference that makes to me as an artist. I’m learning to be more and more open about my ambitions for the art I put out into the world. So I’m stating clearly here (as I have already done with family and friends and before God) that I want this work to travel even farther than my debut did, so your support goes a long way for me. And I count it the highest honor to once again be able to get my best work into your hands!

Please celebrate with me today by spreading the word and boosting this cover anywhere you see it because I want to feel EVERYTHING!!! Tell a friend to tell a lover to tell a foe to tell a stranger that Necessary Fiction is Coming.

Because it is. It is. It FINALLY is.

Two years ago this month, not up to thirty minutes after I publicly shared that I’d completed the first draft of my sophomore novel, fka Book Two, I collapsed. Literally. We were in Nairobi. We were talking about the work, and then I came back to, five whole minutes later, speaking already about an animated film I want to make. I had never experienced that before. I replied comments from the hospital without a single note of alarm because this is my life now. New horizons were buzzing gloriously around me, so why not? While working on the manuscript, sometimes my body clenched entirely, or I would feel a short heated rod of pain from my chest deep into my back, nested between spinal rungs. I would need to be held until my body rested. And mercifully, I could be; so I was. I know why my body reacted that way to sentences I was putting down. “Fiction”, and the stories were that close to me. I had carried them too too long! Somewhere else had to hold them. Between you and me, honestly? I did not mind the pain, the changes. As long as I was getting shit done; unburdening myself too. It was a type of relief. Months later, something similar happened on set in Lagos — a city I have had a complex dynamic with for some time now, so only popped into for some necessary days — and I’m grateful for everyone who handled that with care. 

Again: I know why my body reacted in that way. I thought my ambition would kind of… hold my health (?) until I was ready to pay attention to it. If it took that much of everything to get where I was, why wouldn’t my health of all things wait for me? We were together. We were almost there! I’d obviously pay attention after the finish line. I just needed to get some stuff out of the way. 

Well, it did not happen like so. 

Because yes, in hindsight, the pressures I was under were crazy. I’m not referring to my career here actually, though those changes did give me a kind of whiplash. But honestly? That was a kind of nothing compared to the brutal shifts occurring in my literal life. 

I had to change so much in order to recover. It hurt. A lot. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. To admit to myself that what was happening was serious enough to kill me even under the sheen of my achievements. There were tests: MRIs, bloodwork, ECGs, scans, neurologist appointments, diagnoses (wrong and right), medications (correct and limp).  I had to face the grief of losing multiple family members in a short span of time. I had to face how much it hurt to have my life changed on me like that at such a Fun (!!!) Time. I had to stop and look at the gaping divide between my Old Life and New Life. There are many untalkaboutable bits still. And yes, I was dealing with them while refining the text for my next novel. But I didn’t think it was A Big Deal. 

On the other side of “the finish line,” we sold the book. And I announced the deal a year ago. I loved how excited everyone was with me! I felt so held. And that holding saved my life. I was ready. I felt that way. 

Then two editors I love (both assigned to me) left the publishing house for different reasons, which meant my publication date needed to be pushed by a significant stretch of time. I had been pretty consistent in drumming up anticipation before the fallthroughs, so I did feel, at times, frustratingly delayed and disappointed. 

The closer to publication I get (I’ll tell you about this soon), the more I can see the value of the down time life and God gave me. I have had time to rest. I have better health than I’ve had in years; than I would have had if I kept speeding along. I have learned that I want my life more than most things. Damnit, I want MY life!

                                     *

I’ve been wrong about a lot lately. And I’m really enjoying that. It feels good to be reminded in painless, positive and practical ways  that not everything I think or feel is objectively true. My life is changing again, pretty rapidly, in secretly accruing undercurrents that will bubble up shortly. I am not surprised. No one else should be. I have done what is mine to do, and what I work on is what I was born for. The world bends, then. That process is undeniable; insistent — an inevitable harvest. And I am my first priority this time. 

Being clear-eyed has been an adventure. Just looking at each day, and seeing what it’s in it, what isn’t, then feeling my way around that without distortions is a worthwhile challenge. But on some days, even the things I know for sure are hidden behind a haze. On those days, I think in unstoppable loops. Sometimes, I can interrupt the anxiety before it starts smarting. Other times, I can’t catch it until it has swallowed two point five days and I’m inside a maze I can’t break out of. Many things are harder when my conclusions are worry-tinted. 

But then there are miracles. Sometimes, an hour after I’ve catastrophised about something, the exact opposite happens. A situation I believe I fucked up comes back with better news than I hoped for. A friend I thought I was in a strange place with reaches out kindly and with updates on their life. A moment I thought I had to be there to salvage went fine without me and actually contained joy. I went to that place that stresses me because of how loaded with histories it is, and actually had a great time. I dreamt about The Wound and woke up with no corporeal residue. I love those moments. I adore those miracles. They really do save me from the cliff. 

*

Some years ago, I decided to start believing my mind. There’s a whole other story about how much transformation, strength, confidence and courage that has brought me. When I started to believe myself about what I needed, what was too small, what I truly desired, and more, my life literally changed. I started to think of my ideas as already real. Now, when an idea comes to me, a reflex I have is: I don’t see why I can’t make that. And often, I can.

The flip side of this is that I also started to believe the dark thoughts that would come up. If the same mind that spat out two epic novels and a third book in three years said I fucked up then surely I did? If my mind remembered something in a certain hue, surely that was it? So: my mind as a place of activation and tangible possibility. At the same time, my mind as a place of fact-based & earned flagellation. If found genius, joy could flow. If found lacking, x must follow. 

But something happened recently. After years bouncing between these peaks and troughs, I found a promising slice of light. I stopped something I’ve been doing daily, for eighteen days straight — because I decided to. I had always assumed I could not do without it. 

And somewhere in there, I started watching what actually happened vs what I thought would happen. It has freed me up so much. I started keeping a list of things I’m wrong about, and on some days, I log multiple entries. The title of list? 

WHAT I HAVE BEEN DELIGHTFULLY WRONG ABOUT LATELY. 

An example of an entry could be: 

— I was wrong about not having enough time to do xyz (because I actually finished ten minutes early)

— I was wrong about not meeting my goals (because I have surpassed everything on my to do list) 

— I was wrong to think that I have made no improvements (because I have and I saw concrete proof today)

— I was wrong to think acceleration would not come (because now I can barely keep track of my inbox)

— I was wrong to think love was finite (because look how much of it I received today)

— I was wrong: I don’t need to “be over it by now” or kill the parts of me that look like a power that hurt me. I can just be. And I am… all of it.

Logging these instances has also meant that the way I think about my thoughts is changing. What if it’s not true that things won’t go right? What if it’s not that I got it wrong? What if me doing my best is actually clear to everyone around me? What if there’s simply more ease? What if I’m only just beginning? What if I have everything I need? What if the moment I’m ready to release the work is the exact right time for it to drop?

You can try starting a list of your own if you like. I hope it works for you too!

*

Here’s some good news I want to/can share (for now). 

1. I was profiled by an incredible writer, Ezra Olaoya and photographed by Adaeze Okaro for Dazed’s The Impossible Issue. Dazed is one of my favourite magazines of all time, and to be profiled by them in print gave me insane levels of joy. If you can, buy a copy and send me a photo of the pages when you see them. My favorites are the Willow Smith and Ayra Starr covers.

   

   .

2. I spoke to Thobeka Phanyeko for Glamour SA while in Capetown, and was photographed by Saba Kingsley. We had a lovely conversation about life, my present work, and what's next for Vagabonds the World.

   

3. I was Chief Judge for the Native Horror Stories Competition. We received 90+ stories in two weeks, and of the final fifteen I read, I met such brilliance. The final three winners each received $1500 and a blurb. I also included four notable mentions. You can find more details about all that here. For ease (and delight), I’m linking one of the winning stories, by Gabrielle Harry. The other two have also been published on the Native website. You should read them too.

4. This Sunday Times print feature, just for the title alone. Be Devoured? Yes. Be Devoured.

   

5. I contributed to the Lagos I Love You But… zine, curated by Faridah Folawiyo and had a live booth called ‘Please Leave A Message After The Tone’ running at the Manifold Lagos exhibition, which showed at Alara Lagos a few weeks ago. I wasn’t physically present for that show but what people chose to share in writing and by voice even in my absence made me feel so much. If you went there and left talked back to the work, thank you!

6. I’m FINALLY releasing a Vagabonds! tattoo flash sheet in collaboration with a tattoo artist named Mars/Irawo (!!!) I haven’t shared anywhere else yet. We’ll probably drop in a few days on Instagram using the following handles: @eloosunde and @vagabondstheworld. If you don’t already follow those accounts, I highly recommend! I’m blown away by what we came up with for this, and can’t wait for you to see! This is for all of us who have wanted a tatt based on the work.  It’s coming. There are ten different designs. I’m so thrilled by all! And I know my first two already.

   

OTHER GEMS/THE TROVE

BOOKS:

This Here Flesh by Cole Arthur Riley. It’s so interesting to me the number of people who immediately wonder if I’m atheist because I have moved from where I used to stand. I recommend this book especially if you’re currently trying to figure out the shape of your faith, and have questions. This work soothed me in unexpected places, and the text has some of the most profound + satisfying theological questions and reflections I’ve read in recent times.

Perfect Little Angels by Vincent Anioke. This is one of the best works of fiction I’ve read recently. I want everyone to get into it, tbh. 

And Then He Sang A Lullaby by Ani Kayode. I enjoyed the journey.

A Kind of Madness by Uche Okonkwo. Special.

MUSIC:

Rema’s HEIS album. I mean…

Good Feelings  — Coldplay feat Ayra Starr. <3

Vision — Qing Madi. This was on repeat the whole time I was in Capetown. 

Naomi Sharon’s Obsidian. 1000000/10. She is excellent. 

Bawo? — Yinka Bernie. This new sound is perfect.

Odeal’s Sunday at Zuri’s EP. Let it run. 

Wande Coal dropped an extended version of Again on SoundCloud 

This EP here called Morning Glory, by Narah 

More soon.

Take care of yourself! Let time be time, ok? Patience.

I love you,

E xxx 

Subscribe now

Since I last wrote, our book has now been named a Most Anticipated Book of The Year by the New York Times, LA Times, I-D/Vice, Entertainment Weekly, Electric Literature, Teen Vogue, Ms Magazine, Goodreads, Harpers Bazaar, Vulture, An Other Magazine, Lithub, The Millions, Brittle Paper, CNN etc; has received three starred trade reviews [from Booklist, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus]. So far, it has been reviewed a lot of times, but I’m linking my favourites: The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Star Tribune, By Andrew Blackman and The Plot Thickens, and has had excerpts published in Lithub and Granta.

Some more updates: 

1. Interviews:

For @MIC, Nelson C.J and I had a great conversation about artmaking, stories, Lagos, Vagabonds!, love/devotion and freedom. Here’s a link.

I spoke to Juliana Ukiomogbe at Elle.com about writing, learning to DJ and why I claim the power of my work with my chest. You can find the interview here.

I spoke to Nathan Smith at them. about what queerness means in this book, what hope and courage are to me, and other things. Link here.

2. I made the Nigerian cover for VAGABONDS! and it’ll be out through Farafina Books in May. They’ll be making an announcement today.

3. Last week, an amazing bookseller in Arizona made a Vagabonds! playlist on Spotify. He said: “A good number of the songs were specifically mentioned in the novel; others are by the same artists, even if she didn't mention a specific track. Just songs that resonated with me and had a "Vagabonds vibe," at least to me.” I’ll leave a link to it in my stories. That reminded me to get back to making the one I was working on on Apple Music. It’s been such a pleasure curating it. Thinking of it as somewhere to hang out and find new music. Inside the book itself, there’s Odunsi, Burna, Angelique Kidjo, Buika, etc. In this playlist, an even wider range of songs from Miles Davis to Frank Ocean, Fela to Buju, Faze to Rosalia, the Cavemen to James Baldwin singing. Save what you love. And if you find a new song you enjoy in there, tell me.

Links below: 

Apple Music (Eloghosa Osunde)

Spotify (by Brandon Stout)

YouTube Music (transferred by Chisom Peter Job)

4. Release day was the best day of my life so far, hands down. That’s true for many reasons, but THE LOVE I received in private and public was a huge part of that. I felt so supported, and I feel changed by how much. We celebrated Vagabonds Day so hard that day that it trended on Twitter for a few hours. I’ve been loving the photos and tweets as people read the book, finally. I’ve watched people make new friends, lend each other copies, find reading partners, all on that app — because of stories, because of a book. I’ve never seen anything quite like it before and I’m honestly blown away.

4. The audiobook is also out now. This was produced in two intense weeks; recorded with love in Lagos, Abuja, New York and London. Narrated by Obongjayar (who is a beast in every realm; a force; a creature with heft; listen to him *every* chance you get), Eloghosa Osunde (unsinkable; enough said), Arit Okpo (a star; shines in three stories with completely different climates; in casting this, it was clear to me which parts of the book could not be said in any other voice), Ifeyinwa Unachukwu (the range is *ridiculous*! her work here almost moved me to tears), Sheila Chukwulozie (art genius, one of my favorite collaborators; whenever we work together, expect momentous madness and colossal crase), Atta Otigba (played Tatafo with bonechilling belief in his body; there are points in this book where he was narrating something and lightning showed face in my head as reflex; a *thunderous* talent. It’s important for you to remember this name). Directed by Grammy Nominee, Ali Muirden and the incredibly precise Frances Loy; produced by Sarah Jeffe. Casting and creative direction by Eloghosa Osunde.

What’s it like? Well. I listened to it from top to bottom recently. It’s a striking eleven hour performance of the book, a kind of choir. It’s like being kept company and being successfully pulled into a void at the same time. It’s like a play - but set inside your ears instead of on a stage, or a piece of theatre in a dark room that you don’t need to see to feel because not using your eyes is the point; being led into the story by your ears is the point. It’s the kind of work that floods the body, will deepen your respect of hearing as a sense, because it’s a book that allows you to literally see it by hearing it. If you’ve loved any of the stories, it’s pretty much still the characters you know and hold close, but even more outrageously alive, and brought to you by a cast of six. This is also a way to get into the book faster if it’s not yet available in hardback where you are and you don’t want to wait. If you get both the audiobook and the book, you can hear us read it with you. Link here.

5. The book is out in the UK from 4th Estate on 31/03/2022. Two more weeks!

Whew ok, I think that’s all of it!

Thank you for riding with me. I hope you enjoy the stories when you meet them.

With big love,

Eloghosa 

I-

Wow. Wow. Wow. WOOOOOOW. This is really happening to me.

I want to say more but I actually have no words this time. Wow.

This is the official UK cover.

[Art by Jon Key]

Preorder link here: https://www.foyles.co.uk/witem/fiction-poetry/vagabonds,eloghosa-osunde-9780008498016. Please do preorder this book if you can, as this is the best way to support me right now. The next best is to share, share, share when and where you can. Thank you so so so so so much for the support!

It means everything to me.

E.

Last year, I made a short film with a team full of artists and stars. Getting to write, direct, edit, cast, produce + curate the music for this has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life so far.

I softdropped a trailer on Instagram yesterday and immediately had a panic attack, because sorry, what?! I’d been anxious (I actually went and made a film? Wtf?!) and so excited it was uncomfortable (I *finally* went and made a film!) The feedback I was most eager for was from the people I worked on this project with. It mattered to me that they felt the work they’d put in was worth it, because this film took a lot: people flew in from a different city for this, worked long hours on set, gave their best. I’m aware that this project is a miracle, and quite simply, I could not have done any of it without this gifted cast and crew, people whose work and lives have moved and changed me; who were patient and willing to give their best onscreen, behind camera, on set, in person, over distance; who were inspiring and electric, outstanding and striking; some who even pushed this work harder than I could, who said — even when we were tired — let’s try again. I’m deeply thankful. For the work, but also for the memories. For their talent, but also for the laughter. For the effort, for the love, for the new connections formed. For the trust. For the faith and investments. By nighttime, I’d received all sorts of moving messages from them and didn't even know what to do with myself. One of my favourites was a simple sentence: “thank you for taking care of our work.”

Here's a part of my journal entry last night:

I felt about a million shades of joy today, many of them new. It rained earlier and I stood in it for a bit. My day happened in pink light, in a cool room. I played the new playlist and it swam six hours in one lap. There’s been so much music in my life; I’ll never not be thankful for that. This evening, not long ago, I walked outside and there was a crescent moon and a few visible stars in the sky. Imagine. Made a great day even better. I’m writing this so I can remember this feeling — like little explosions of warmth, but also like a hundred tiny creatures stomping on my chest in some odd choreography. Committing to staying present has been interesting. Joy can be uncomfortable too, apparently. Not because it’s heavy but because it can be surprising/jarring, like a sharp bend in the road. I didn’t know that until recently.

I like how today felt. I like how now feels. This is my life. Imagine. This is my life. Sometimes that is so hard to wrap my head around. Funny because to some extent, everything I’ve done since I was I teenager has been because I knew this was possible, but actually being inside it feels different. To live in it is to glitch from time to time. I’m still that younger self who would have given anything for all this, so when I wake up in the present or snap back into this me, it feels more like an extended daydream than a real life; than a right-now. Every day in my life has the potential to be enchanting. Even through difficulty, through unease, through anxiety. That’s wild. I lost faith in organic joy at some point (because I gained a strong fear of organic pain and to escape one is to escape all), but it’s more durable than the synthetic kind, I’m finding. What a revelation. Also, thank you for exhaling when I told you to, E. You see your palms a lot more when you start letting go, and it turns out I quite like ours.

The other day, when we found out the meaning of [redacted - one of my other names] our life made even more sense. It feels good to notice what is happening in real time. The film is done. I’m happy. The trailer is out. I’m so moved. The film is out soon!!! I’m so changed by how surrounded by support we’ve been. It’s one thing to write a story. It’s quite another to bring that story to life with a great group of people and be met with not just willingness but unfading enthusiasm. I’m so humbled. I’m so proud. I’m so alive. I’m so here.

I think that explains how I feel better than anything else I could type.

TATAFO is an art, fashion and music film loosely based on VAGABONDS! There’s no official synopsis out right now (you’ll find out a lot more leading up to the film’s release) but all you need to know about the film is that it’s set in a shared world where anything can happen, where nothing cares about law or manners or what you grew up learning. It’s not shy of itself because there’s nothing to be shy about. Unconcerned with the past or future, this film is set in a parallel present; another now. If you’re curious about what the book sounds/feels/moves like? This is pretty much an answer to that. You can find the trailer on Instagram or Youtube. Please watch, share, and let us know what you think + follow @tatafothefilm on instagram.

Oh and also: watch this space for an update on VAGABONDS! later this week.

Thank you for being here,

Eloghosa

Hello you,

I haven’t written here in a while, I know. We all know what time has been. But the good news is: I have a littlebig surprise to share with you at the end of this letter! I hope you’re in a good place, reading this. If not, I hope you’re being held through it. I hope you remember that there are other places beyond the tough rock you’re standing on. You’ve been in better places before, so they exist. If they exist, you can go back. It’s only a matter of time.

Me, I’ve been changing my mind faster than I can keep up with. I’ve been listening to lots of music (as usual) and playlisting. I want to share more of that soon. I’ve been reading and writing when I can, sleeping a lot when I can't. Journaling and meditating too. I’ve been sharing my thoughts more slowly than I usually would and that has been heartsaving, especially because many aspects of my identity I thought were set in stone were actually just well-drawn in sand. What a relief to be able to change my mind about what I am (no longer). I love remembering that this is possible.

So much has happened since I last wrote you. On the personal side, I’m still processing a lot. But work wise, here are some updates:

The Paris Review published my short story GOOD BOY, which you can find here. That story then went on to win the Plimpton Prize for Fiction. My non-fiction (on time, art and the senses) has been going to MELTING CLOCKS, my new(?) column at the Paris Review. I’m about three essays deep at the moment and you can find the most recent one here; it’s called ‘& Other Stories’ and mentions some of the art I’ve been thinking about, and why.

My short story GOLD is out with Guernica Magazine, my short story RAIN is online now with Catapult, here and another short story THERE IS LOVE AT HOME was published by Gulf Coast Journal.

Last time I wrote, I told you that VAGABONDS! will be published by Riverhead Books. That’s still true. You already know the timing shifted, but there’s more: 1) It will also be published in Nigeria by Farafina Books! 2) Something absolutely magical happened after the Riverhead announcement. My book went into a four-publisher auction in the UK, which was won by 4th Estate Books!!! So VAGABONDS! will now be published in March 2022 in a coordinated campaign between these two publishers. 3) The official birthday for the US edition is March 15th 2022!!! Save the date. More details on the UK and NG release dates soon. 4) You can now PREORDER the book (and see the full synopsis) here. Please do go through with the preorder if you can and/or share the link with whoever you think might be interested in this story. Because preorders contribute heavily to the success of the book, this is the best way to support me right now. The next best is to share, share, share!

And now for the big reveal, HERE IS THE COVER FOR THE US EDITION BELOW:

AUYSBKJSBKKJDBKBKJD!!!!!

I’ve been buzzing since I saw this for the first time! That glorious explosion of colour set against the deep purple/sure black? Amen. Nothing I could have imagined compares to what it turned out to be. Khari Turner’s work has been deeply resonant for me since the first time I saw it so it felt/feels surreal to look at this cover and *recognise* it now as the official skin of my debut. It’s the exact right match for the stories inside & I just- 

This is a huge moment for me & I’m still speechless, ngl.

Anyway, if you don’t follow the artist’s work just yet, please do because Khari is incredible.

And now I just want to say thank you soooo much for sharing this joy with me! The next few months are about to be wild leading up to this book’s release (I already have so much more to tell you!) and it means the world to be able to do this with your support. I share the cover publicly at 3pm today, so feel free to come join in on Instagram or Twitter [@eloosunde if you’re not there already]!

Until the next time I write here, I’m wishing you sustained ease and whatever else your heart needs right now,

Eloghosa xxx

My debut work of fiction VAGABONDS! will be published next year by Riverhead Books. My publishers (what?!) describe the book as: “a tumultuous and unexpectedly joyous novel of oppression and defiance among the people and spirits of Lagos.” That feels correct. The book, like Lagos, is full of flawed people, spirits of all dispositions, children, lovers, squatters, families in their many iterations, queerness in all its forms, people of all classes and abilities. I’m proud to have written this. I’m proud of every time I fought to give myself what I knew I’d need to complete this book. I’m proud of the day I decided to choose this work with my chest and stop playing it safe. I wrote this because it’s the book I’ve been missing. I wrote it because I wanted a book that wasn’t shy to say what it meant, that wasn’t afraid to disregard and overwrite and upturn what is considered normal or upright or worthy; a book that isn’t afraid of its own madness; a book with its own secrets, rules and commandments.

On my birthday last year, when asked what I wanted the most from my new age, I said stillness. Later in my journal, I also wrote: joy. My main goals for the year had been written down in clear terms: book deal, travel with/to friends, dance in as many countries as possible, [redacted], [redacted]. I wanted a balanced year. Well, I’ve found ways to stay connected to my friends even through the madness going on. Thank God for that. I dance alone and often in an apartment I’m safe in. Thank God for that. And I’m an author. How wild is that? This year I’ve worked through feelings of helplessness by reminding myself that I’ve done and continue to do my own part of the work. I remind myself that I have imagined the world I want to live in — where no one gets left behind; where freedom for all isn’t just conceivable but taken for granted; where we can blow the limits off stifling definitions— and I’ve fleshed that out in pages. It’s real because I live it, despite. It’s real because it is written.

Making stories is my work (what?!) and I have a stubborn provable faith in the power of words. This world was fashioned out of them. I write with compassion, with grit, with rage, with lightness, with hope and with younger versions of myself in mind. I wrote what I needed then. I wrote what I still need now. I wrote a book of stories that comforts my friends and makes them laugh and cry; that makes them feel seen. That, to me, is success. I don’t fight the way most people do, but that’s okay because there are people who occupy the spaces I can’t in excellent ways. But on the page? I’m unstoppable, untouchable, unkillable, unsinkable. My strength is at its clearest when I’m writing and I’m not shy to say that that strength is a giant. I can’t change the world but I can flip it on its head. I can’t stop the threats we face but I can make us a new world. I can’t change the violence, but I can insist that the story ends differently. Over the past few years, I’ve quietly written my way out of stories I was stuck in. It hurt to do sometimes, but it also taught me that there’s nothing trivial about writing. Nothing at all. Stories are my third lung. The books that saved my life never stop mattering to me even when the world is falling apart. In fact, that’s when they matter the most. Books are where I run to when my head needs resetting. Books are where I go when my heart is breaking. I’m thankful for the day I realised I could add to that list, that I didn’t have to wait or hope for a book like the one I’ve written. I’m thankful to have realised I could just write it. I’m thankful for my agent who is steady even when I’m not. I’m thankful for my friends who showed me all the love in the world while I was writing, who show me all the love in the world now, who work(ed) through the fears with me. I’m thankful for their reminders when I can’t remember my reasons. I’m thankful for my editor who saw and loved this book for what it was. I’m thankful to be getting published by the same house as some of my favourite authors of all time.

What to do when the thing you’ve wanted the most comes to pass? On the day I got the news, I screamed, cried and told my friends. I sat down and exhaled. I upped the volume of my music so high it brushed the ceiling. I shook off the world and rejoiced. I felt a thousand things. But mostly sure. This is what I was born to do. This year has been insane, but I’ve been still and I have felt deep joy, despite. I’ve watched my wildest dream start to unfold in real time. This is a moment that lit up my life and I wanted to tell you. I wanted to say thank you for all the times you’ve read something I’ve written. Thank you for your support over the years and for the letters and questions and DMs about the book. Thank you for amplifying my work and sharing it and engaging with it. It means so much to me. So so much. I can’t wait for you to read this book and all the others after it (what?!). I hope you stick around.

& may all your dreams come true,

E x

Hey,

How are you today? There’s a lot happening, I know. So I hope you’re being gentle with yourself, no matter what your answer to that question is.

Since the last letter, I’ve been swinging between wildly productive and too tired to think. Two weeks ago, I started building a new visual art language, did some work on my novel, met deadlines, ate too much fried beef. Last week, I felt like a sandcastle. I need to watch my exhaustion. That’s what the meltdown told me. Outside that, I’ve been working on staying very still and doing memory work, so I’m looking through old photographs, old writing, old journal entries and moving through a lot of feelings. It’s good to remember how long I’ve had this voice for, to see that even though I left a few minds in the past, I’ve always had the same heart; to see that writing has always meant the same thing to me. I’ve also always been comfortably aware of mortality and at different stages of my life, depending on what I was holding close to my core, I did different things with that information.

Some weeks ago, I had a conversation with Shiela about growth and grace, about shame and forgiveness. The day we talked, I remember thinking: I really like learning, but I hate the shame that comes with feeling like I should have known better. There was so much goodness in that conversation, but she said this, and I keep thinking about it:

“Everything is regenerative, until I stop saying I deserve regeneration.”

That line has weight. I wrote it down. Under that line, I also wrote: everything is regenerative until I start implying I don’t deserve regeneration. I used to do the latter a lot. For me, spirals were very direct things. It never occurred to me that I could deserve regeneration, because I didn’t think I was allowed/supposed to fall short in the first place. I didn’t think I should give myself the space to make mistakes. So when I did, I heard a voice say: you did a regretful thing, so you’re a bad person and you should fold. I thought remorse and repentance meant actively denying myself of goodness until I felt forgiven. I used to be determined to be a good person, you see, so I had to taunt myself back in line when I did something that fell short of that standard.

Things changed when I realised the voice that used to imply that I didn’t deserve regeneration only believed that about me. Now I actively disagree with it because that’s not my voice. Growing up, I learned how to think in strict absolutes, but I personally don’t believe in good or bad people. The voice was just a reflexive whip from the past; a hurtful chorus that came from the cache of voices I gathered on my way to this me. But I have my own thoughts now and thankfully, I can live by them. Something I learned a few years ago is that it’s not enough to know what you don’t believe or want, you have to figure out what you do believe and want. In order to be free of what you’re running from, you don’t need to run at all, actually. You need to sit down and imagine. You have to make a new voice out of thin air, and then swallow it, recite it, rehearse it until it’s the new reflex. We overwrite the old text by creating a new syllabus. So for some months now, I’ve been journaling a lot and making mental recordings of myself saying true things, like: I deserve regeneration. I deserve regeneration. I deserve regeneration.

If I say that I believe in people, simple, then I can’t exclude myself from my own grace. There’s that Jack Kornfield quote: “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete.” It’s true. For my compassion to be full, I also have to turn the soft lens selfwards. I have to understand that outgrowing my own choices is part of what it means to be alive, is part of what it means to be a person. I am a person, which means that what I believe about people is what I can also believe about myself. I don’t care if people are pretty or good, I care that they’re themselves, I care that they’re honest and tender, I care that they do not stand above correction and insist on staying there, that they listen as much as they speak, that they don’t intentionally and repeatedly cause harm. I believe in the power of new choices. I believe in restoration. I believe people can be transformed. I believe we can be redeemed if we’re willing look at ourselves, what we do and the impact that has on others; we can be better if we commit to restoring the ground we broke and dedicate to making better choices. Making better choices is about more than what we say or can articulate. It’s about doing better not just by others, but also by ourselves. To do better, we have to want it first. To do better, we have to re-evaluate, we have to be intentional enough to clear our surroundings of things that cause stagnation or relapse. Sometimes that means loss. This is a type of love.

While doing a guided meditation a few nights ago, I learned that the word ‘should’ is what causes suffering. It’s true, life is easier and we’re happier when we observe more than we expect. If you think there is a way you or your life should be, you’ll hold that image over what you actually are. On the days you fall short it, you’ll feel upside down. Should is a picture we can all afford to throw away. Should is a weight with spikes. There is no shame if there is no should.

I used to avoid looking back because I was scared to discover new things to be furious or heartbroken about, things I didn’t notice at the time. But recently, looking back has felt good. Looking back has deepened my respect for myself. I’ve made brave choices, and those choices have led me to a life I love. Sixteen year old me already knew that art has the power to radically transform the world. Twenty year old me had power in her mouth and knew exactly who she was and wasn’t. Both wrote daily. I’m them now but less set in stone, more like water, and I’m living what they dreamt. I like this me. For a long time, I kept away from versions of myself I’d outgrown because I had this impression that they would become mine to save, mine to rescue from themselves, one more me to care for. That’s untrue though. I don’t have to save anything or anyone. I just have to see it/them for what they really are. There’s less agony to reflecting when I see past versions of me as complete, as lacking in nothing, as lovable regardless of what I think I’d have done better than them, as separately themselves. They existed, they were beautiful, they were kind and trying. They were thickly loved. But they’re not me. Seeing photos of them, I’m flushed with pride even knowing that they had completely different minds in their heads. Those were strong minds, or I wouldn’t be here. They did not have the information I have, and there’s beauty in what they did do with what they knew. They deserve(d) to exist. They deserve(d) regeneration.

On a related note, Timehin made a thread about Psalm 23 that I really liked:

This stood out:

“Mercy is the face that God turns to us with when we can’t face ourselves. Mercy is the hand that leads us when we are deep in darkness of our own making. Mercy is goodness following us when we are at our most undeserving.”

I find that I learn so much more when I honor what I used to want while holding my current ground, while staying in my current body, while using my new mind and old heart. I learn more when I listen without absorbing, when I remember that I am still happening in real time, that I will outgrow this me now too. I learn more when I release fear, when I remember that I don’t want perfection. I want growth. I learn more when I make important distinctions in my mind like this: it’s not the flaws we need to get rid of, it’s the shame, it’s the handed-down obsession with making things look perfect.

Other things I’m learning/remembering:

- Listening is enough. Support is enough.

- I don’t need to carry anyone else’s feelings into my body to prove I care. I just need to hear them out. I just need to sit next to them. Trusting people I care about to handle their own lives, to tell me what they need instead of trying to decode it on their behalf is a kind of kindness.

- Love is freedom. An open palm always. Not a closed fist.

- A closed fist is control. I’m not interested in control.

- So there’s no need to lock the door and swallow the key. It’s good for everyone to know where the door is, because everybody is free. Staying means much more when everyone has a choice.

- It’s okay to leave. It’s also okay to be left. Leaving isn’t always about malice. You don’t have to slam the door.

- I’m learning not to limit love in anticipation of or for fear of loss. Regardless of the outcome, it matters to me to use my heart well. Success to me is also about balance. About feeling as much as I think. It’s about staying soft, staying myself.

- How to move from abundance. How to do what’s right for me even when I’m afraid. How to give others the space to do what’s right for them, even when that excludes me.

- That Instagram post I can’t find now was right. People pleasing is a kind of manipulation. It’s better to be truthful, it’s better to lead with your real heart. It’s better to speak with your real mouth.

- In All About Love, bell hooks defines love as a “commitment to nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth.” I’m learning to measure my actions against that definition. I’m learning the many shapes commitment and nurture can take; the shape my own spiritual growth can take. Sometimes, this looks like space from everything. This looks like me alone in my house with God.

- Nurturing your spiritual growth can hurt, can sometimes make things too clear for comfort, can sometimes mean grief.

- Grief passes. Grief morphs.

- Practicing a gentle voice in my head. Quarrelling less there. Gently redirecting thoughts instead.

- Boundaries are an act of love. Even with yourself. Even with your mind.

- The answer is not to become unkind, more hardened, less sensitive. The answer is to step away from whatever makes it difficult for me to stay well. The answer is to stand still and breathe.

Here are a few beautiful things:

1. Futureme.org is a gorgeous idea. Write yourself a letter.

2. For music: Colors

3. We’re Not Really Strangers put out a free quarantine PDF edition of their card game. Play it with someone you love. It’s a good way to check in.

4. Also for music: NPR Tiny Desk Concerts on Youtube

5. On Netflix: Midnight Gospel, Bojack Horseman, Sex Education, Money Heist

6. A story: Noviolet Bulawayo’s Hitting Budapest

7. Florence Welch on Addiction, Eating Disorder Recovery, And Finding True Happiness In Her 30s

8. Something I’ve been trying: Making two to-do lists. To-do for work and to-do for joy. I’m starting to see that being overwhelmed isn’t always because I’m doing too much. Sometimes, it’s that I’m planning work with more intention or seriousness than I am joy.

On my to-do for joy list today:

Listen to Rihanna / Keep your phone off for at least an hour / Take a nap in the afternoon / Long drive / Practice writing a full sentence with your left hand

9. Lockdown Journal is collating journal entries from people around the world during these times. They have a rolling open call.

10. I saw this post on instagram earlier. It helped me. If you’re feeling pressure to be outraged and ‘use your voice’ right now, read this:

There are many ways to be present. Take care of yourself please. For me, that looks like staying off social media as much as possible, listening to music daily and listening to my body. You know what that means for you more than I do. So here’s a little nudge to do it.

You deserve regeneration. Yes, you.

With love,

E x