Just woke up from my post-Thanksgiving slumber, so I present: A Belated List of Things I'm Thankful For as a Writer.
I'm thankful for black tea and sunflower seeds, pocket notebooks and voice recorders and my favorite pens (Pilot G2). Also: comfortable chairs and musicians who mumble lyrics or sing too quietly to distract me.
I'm thankful for The Millions, The Rumpus, Grantland, The New York Times, GQ, The New Yorker, and Twitter links to stories.
I'm thankful for quiet places.
I'm thankful for acceptance letters and personalized rejection letters.
I'm thankful for a well needed nap or walk, and at the end of the day, Louie and Happy Endings and Jimmy Kimmel and Splitsider and Modern Comedian.
I'm thankful for Chloe Caldwell's debut collection, Legs Get Led Astray, especially the two essays whose structures I've ripped off.
I am and should be even more thankful for having a supportive family.
I'm thankful for workshops and readings and their subsequent conversations, and the friends I share them with, friends who ask me what I'm working on, friends who listen, smart, odd friends who critique my ideas and let me sleep on their couches. I'm thankful for mentors and editors and readers and interview subjects and all the people behind the names that appear in my work.