The 2024 Highlight Reel 🎥
A Letter from the Homestead for December. ✍️ Inside: Spotify Wrapped, but for my life, and updates for new play premieres: 'Little Women Town' and 'The Pavement Kingdom.'
Emily Dickinson called her Amherst home “The Homestead.” I lovingly call my apartment in St. Louis the same thing (though I definitely get out more than Dickinson). This monthly newsletter is my attempt to work through what it feels like to put down roots as a writer in my own Homestead.
The year was full, and I’m grateful.
I’ve never longed to re-live a year. I value moving forward, tossing out the old calendar, and hosting a funeral for the dead year. But 2024 held a lot of light. Here are some highlights—good moments, things I’ve gotten better at, and things I’m carrying with me into the new year.
A yard sale play. By a landslide, the creative highlight of my year was Romanov Family Yard Sale, a play of mine that called for an actual yard sale. I volunteered as Yard Sale Tzar for the production, which meant I was responsible for sorting, displaying, pricing, and refreshing our inventory each performance. It was my dream job. Most of all, though, this weird play reminded me of how lucky I am to have such talented, compassionate friends. I can’t wait to make more fun plays for them in 2025.
Keeping in touch better as a daughter who lives very, very far away. It’s been a long time since I was married, but one thing I remember about that period was how frequently my mom had to remind me she hadn’t heard my voice in weeks. Absorbed in the drama of my relationship-centered life, I had little space to keep open lines of contact with my own parents. When that marriage ended, I resolved to do better; this year, I felt like I’d finally begun to make real amends.
More ideas than I know what to do with. I’m grateful for ideas. They come at me so hard I can hardly catch them, but I’m trying. I was glad to have the chance to get some big picture ideas on paper in my How to Write Weird Plays workbook, which I had a grant to finish in early 2024. You can find the free workbook here.
A curly hair routine that finally works for me. Okay, a little vain, but I’ve been trying to figure out the best process/products for my curly/wavy hair since I was a child. At age 37, I believe I’ve finally hacked it. Knock on wood. (The short version: 1-2 washes per week with only conditioner, flat iron on my roots, water spritz and products in the mornings, and NO hair ties.)
Solid writing stats. I wrote and wrote and wrote all year long. It was awesome. My stats for 2024: Two new plays written. Three plays produced (two in prisons, one in St. Louis). One novel on submission. One novel finished and sent to agent. New novel started. (Please please please, send a prayer to the literary gods that my agent is able to sell my novel in 2025. 🙏 )
Seeing Alanis in concert. I felt such joy at this concert. It filled me up, made me proud to be alive in 2024, and was a memory with friends I’ll never forget.
Making my home a place for gatherings. I love my apartment, decked out in all its grandmotherly charm. But most of all, I love how I’ve learned to be a good host. My apartment has held a lot of play-reading brunches this year, in particular, and it warms my writer’s heart.
Being better at initiating plans. Similar to above, I’ve learned that plan-making and initiating is a skill you can develop. It takes detail-oriented work and room-reading to get a group together. This year, I’ve learned a few tricks for plan-making: 1) make plans with no expectation of reciprocation; 2) include details about how the plan involves food; and 3) do reconnaissance about individual folks’ availability before proposing a plan to the larger group.
Caring for an elderly animal. I took in my parents’ old cat Linus this fall, and this 18-year-old muppet has taught me so much about patience, problem-solving, and gentle care. It’s special to love and be loved by an old creature.
The contentment of living alone. For five years, I’ve lived alone—after many, many years of not. I continue to be amazed by how autonomy of space and time directly impacts my creative capacity. I’ve written more in this solitude than I have in my whole life (including my PhD years). And I know myself better, too.
Teaching and collaborating inside of prisons. I enjoy this work so much. It has pushed me to be a better teacher and writer. I’m especially proud of the play opening this March at the women’s prison, Little Women Town. If you are in Missouri, please come out and see a play in a prison. The RSVP deadline for attending the public, in-facility performances is February 18th.
My Book of the Year: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. I listened to the audiobook version of this and loved it. How have I not read this before!? It pushed me to think harder about the artfulness of recounting a haunting—and of making the reader question their perceptions. Also, made me psyched to write my own ghost story.
My Album of the Year: The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift. I listened to this on repeat. I continue to assert that Swift is the songwriter of our generation.
My Podcast of the Year: Uncanny from the BBC. This podcast has been around for a while, but I’m just now getting into it. I love a 30-minute ghost story, especially while making the long drive to the prisons.
My TV Show of the Year: The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives. I don’t really watch a lot of “prestige” TV. And this show is not prestige. I absorbed it like a 64 oz Dr. Pepper with a splash of vanilla creme.
Sending people weird reels on Instagram. This is my most unhinged habit. One friend got ten jellyfish reels on Christmas Day. Another gets near-daily mini cows. Others receive similar nonsense. You know who you are. It’s not about the content, though—it’s about that fact that I want my friends to know they are on my mind, one jellyfish at a time.
A relationship that does not keep score. I’m really grateful right now to be in a relationship that does not have a “score board.” No act of kindness or basic decency comes with a debt for the other person. No refrains of, Well, I did this last time, so now it’s your turn. Relationships are not meant to be transactional. What an idea.
Porch goose. I’m a goose gal now. I’ve already bookmarked the outfits I plan to purchase for Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov in 2025.
Save the date for The Pavement Kingdom: a clinic escort play 📢
If you are in the St. Louis area, I hope you’ll come out for the premiere of The Pavement Kingdom: a clinic escort play, a one-act piece about my three years of volunteering for Planned Parenthood. It’s a comedy! My play is part of a two-play billing with Chorus of Fools. Tickets available here. Running the last weekend of January.
What I’m reading this month…
I have not been much of a dedicated reader this month. My months-long attempt to read both Middlemarch and The Divine Comedy has stagnated, though I’ll hopefully find my way back into them in January. There are plenty of books I keep nearby all the time, dipping into them when needed. But as for concentrated reading? December was scant.
The only book that really perked me up in December was this one by the Tooch: What I Ate in One Year (and related thoughts) by Stanley Tucci.
How I made money this month $$$
I believe freelance artists should be more upfront about how they support themselves financially, rather than maintaining the illusion they are fully supported by their art (they usually aren’t). This is me attempting to live out that principle. So, here are all the ways I brought in money to the Homestead for the month of December.
Teaching artist work for Prison Performing Arts. Teaching a weekly writing workshop on Zoom and teaching Spoken Word regularly inside a men’s prison. Also going to to rehearsals for Little Women Town.
Volunteer stipend for a queer support helpline. I make a small bit of money each month by working shifts on the St. Louis Queer Support Helpline.
Paid Substack subscriptions. Thank you to all of my paid subscribers. It means the world to me you make a financial contribution to my work.
Christmas $$$ from mom and dad! I bought a leaf blower!
Seeing the world through new specs for the new year 👓
In honor of my Shirley Jackson Winter, I picked out some Shirley Jackson specs. Here’s hoping they give me a boost as I keep on with the writing life.
Tonight starts a new year. May it be full of light.
Yours,
Courtney, Mistress of the Homestead, and Old Linus and Noble Midge. 🐈 🐈⬛
P. S. Do you enjoy Letters from the Homestead? It would mean the world to me if you shared it with a friend.
And I’m always very grateful to paid subscribers, who help support my work.