I hate the “Thoreau’s mom did his laundry” criticism so much, it drives me crazy.
Henry Thoreau did not go to Walden Pond because he thought it would be a fun adventure. He went into the woods because he was deeply depressed and burnt out. He was running from the horror of his brother and best friend recently dying in his arms, and the haunting memory of causing the Fairhaven Bay fire. His friend Ellery Channing literally gave him the ultimatum of either taking some time off to write and think, or else be institutionalized.
I think Thoreau’s mother saw her depressed son choosing to retreat into a small cabin in the woods, and was worried about him. Of course she did his laundry - just as Ralph Waldo Emerson probably brought him firewood and bread. These were not chores of obligation to support a “great” man, but services of love to help their deeply depressed 28yo son and friend.
And if you ask me, there’s a lesson in that - to “suck out the marrow of life” and “live deliberately,” one must also accept help offered from the people in your life who love you. There is no true transcendentalism or individualism without love and friendship behind it.
Just a bunch of things I've read recently.
The Authoritarian Roots of India's Democracy by Tripurdaman Singh
Why is Everything So Ugly?
Casual Viewing by Will Tavlin
“You are Next”: Unmarried Urban Women in India and the “Marriage Talk” by Shilpa Phadke
Crossing Days by Thomas Dai
Inside the Indian Manosphere by Lhendup Bhatia
Optimism and Desperation by Camilla Grudova
Everyone is Cheating Their Way Through College by James Walsh
Blunt-Force Ethnic Credibility by Som-Mai Nguyen
When My Authentic is Your Exotic by Soniah Kamal
The discontent of Russia by Joy Neumeyer
On anti-political projects by Kat Rosenfield
'Correcting' historical wrongs is a slippery slope by Manu Pillai
money is such an underrated accessibility option.
like people want to think any disabled person who is after money is morally suspect some way, because they're not asking for "treatments" or "accommodations" like a lot of our issues can be fixed way more easily with money. can't drive? paying for a taxi is often one of the more accessible alternatives. can't cook? you can pay more to have prepared food delivered to you. food restrictions? that food straight up costs more money. can't clean? you can pay for someone to do that. house inaccessible? having (lots) of money can help with that, you get the gist.
having money won't make us abled. it also won't stop our symptoms from being distressing, painful, or debilitating. but there's a huge gap in experience between the average poor disabled person and someone who's actually wealthy. you can buy your way out of some of the difficult situations most disabled people are left to rot in. wanting money, needing money, asking for money is pretty natural when it's such a useful tool. why get so weird about disabled people wanting money like i'm pretty sure everyone wants money anyway
When inventing a fantasy religion a lot of people a) make the mistake of assuming that everyone in fantasy world would worship the same gods and b) assume that polytheistic religions see all of their gods as morally good
"it's all in the eyes i was once told"
catching the stare of someone across a crowded room
subtle furrowing of eyebrows beyond a blank facade
coldness easing into warmth
a fond mothering gaze
corner of the lip nudged upward
forced glower/glare as they break underneath
batting their lashes, playful
a boisterous laugh
intrigue piercing the stoic
proud smugness at the other's success
lingering glances
a childish joy bursting through
pupils dilate
eyelids shut in a look of peace, calm and trust
"there was once a time when they were mine"
terseness
features fold into a scowl
an urgent flinching back
coldness returns (as though the warmth had never come)
lips part then purse
invasion of shock
slow stare at the floor
the ripple effect of a swallow
frustrated breath/sigh
bitter laugh in reminiscence
dread tearing through the seams of their composure
"darkness"
mean smirk- teeth bared grimace- scowl
dismissive gaze
gaze of contempt/impatience
threat lowering the voice
sardonic goading grins verging on manic
rolling one's eyes
flicker of irritation in the eyes
stares stubbornly ahead despite distraction
gritted teeth, clenched jaw
fierce biting remarks
even measured complexions betraying no thought
strangling oneself back from violence
utter apathy
murderous silence hanging in the stare
snobbish laughter
smiling at another's downfall
A currency that isn’t gold-standard/having gold be as valuable as tin
A currency that runs entirely on a perishable resource, like cocoa beans
A clock that isn’t 24-hours
More or less than four seasons/seasons other than the ones we know
Fantastical weather patterns like irregular cloud formations, iridescent rain
Multiple moons/no moon
Planetary rings
A northern lights effect, but near the equator
Roads that aren’t brown or grey/black, like San Juan’s blue bricks
Jewelry beyond precious gems and metals
Marriage signifiers other than wedding bands
The husband taking the wife's name / newlyweds inventing a new surname upon marriage
No concept of virginity or bastardry
More than 2 genders/no concept of gender
Monotheism, but not creationism
Gods that don’t look like people
Domesticated pets that aren’t re-skinned dogs and cats
Some normalized supernatural element that has nothing to do with the plot
Magical communication that isn’t Fantasy Zoom
“Books” that aren’t bound or scrolls
A nonverbal means of communicating, like sign language
A race of people who are obligate carnivores/ vegetarians/ vegans/ pescatarians (not religious, biological imperative)
I’ve done about half of these myself in one WIP or another and a little detail here or there goes a long way in reminding the audience that this isn’t Kansas anymore.
I love writing characters who think they’re fine but are actually walking emotional house fires with bad coping mechanisms.
They stop doing the things they used to love and don’t even notice. Their guitar gathers dust. Their favorite podcast becomes background noise. Their hobbies feel like homework now.
They pick the path of least resistance every time, even when it hurts them. No, they don’t want to go to that thing. No, they don’t want to talk to that person. But whatever’s easier. That’s the motto now.
They’re tired but can’t sleep. Or they sleep but wake up more tired. Classic burnout move: lying in bed with their brain racing like a toddler on espresso.
They give other people emotional advice they refuse to take themselves. “You have to set boundaries!” they say—while ignoring 8 texts from someone they should’ve cut off three emotional breakdowns ago.
They cry at something stupidly small. Like spilling soup. Or a dog in a commercial. Or losing their pen. The soup is never just soup.
They say “I’m just tired” like it’s a personality trait now. And not like… emotionally drained to the bone but afraid to admit it out loud.
They ghost people they love, not out of malice, but because even replying feels like too much. Social battery? Absolutely obliterated. Texting back feels like filing taxes.
They stop reacting to big things. Catastrophes get a blank stare. Disasters feel like “just another Tuesday.” The well of feeling is running dry.
They avoid being alone with their own thoughts. Constant noise. TV always on. Music blasting. Because silence = reckoning, and reckoning is terrifying.
They start hoping something will force them to stop. An accident. A missed deadline. Someone else finally telling them, “You need a break.” Because asking for help? Unthinkable.
Questions Your Character Is Too Afraid to Ask
(But desperately needs the answer to) Because these are the thoughts they won’t say out loud, but they shape everything they do.
If I stopped trying, would anyone notice?
Do they actually like me, or do I just make their life easier?
Am I hard to love?
What would they say about me if I left the room?
Would they stay if they saw the real me?
What if I’m only good at pretending to be good?
Was it actually love, or just obligation?
What happens if I fail again? What’s left of me then?
How long until they get tired of me?
What if I deserve the things I’m afraid of?
Am I healing or just hiding better?
Why do I feel more myself when I’m alone?
Do I want to be forgiven or just forget?
What if I never become the person they believe I am?
Am I still angry, or just numb?
Why can’t I let go of them, even after everything?
If they hurt me, and I stayed, did I hurt myself more?
Am I building a future, or just distracting myself from the past?
Is this what I want, or just what I’ve been told to want?
What if I was never meant to survive this, but I did anyway? Now what?
academy
adventurer's guild
alchemist
apiary
apothecary
aquarium
armory
art gallery
bakery
bank
barber
barracks
bathhouse
blacksmith
boathouse
book store
bookbinder
botanical garden
brothel
butcher
carpenter
cartographer
casino
castle
cobbler
coffee shop
council chamber
court house
crypt for the noble family
dentist
distillery
docks
dovecot
dyer
embassy
farmer's market
fighting pit
fishmonger
fortune teller
gallows
gatehouse
general store
graveyard
greenhouses
guard post
guildhall
gymnasium
haberdashery
haunted house
hedge maze
herbalist
hospice
hospital
house for sale
inn
jail
jeweller
kindergarten
leatherworker
library
locksmith
mail courier
manor house
market
mayor's house
monastery
morgue
museum
music shop
observatory
orchard
orphanage
outhouse
paper maker
pawnshop
pet shop
potion shop
potter
printmaker
quest board
residence
restricted zone
sawmill
school
scribe
sewer entrance
sheriff's office
shrine
silversmith
spa
speakeasy
spice merchant
sports stadium
stables
street market
tailor
tannery
tavern
tax collector
tea house
temple
textile shop
theatre
thieves guild
thrift store
tinker's workshop
town crier post
town square
townhall
toy store
trinket shop
warehouse
watchtower
water mill
weaver
well
windmill
wishing well
wizard tower
umm do you have any good gateway books into second wave feminism 😓
So if you want to read some of the defining books of the era I'd say
Sexual Politics, Kate Millett
Ob/Gyn, Mary Daly
Dialectics of Sex, Shulamith Firestone
Intercourse; Right-Wing Women; Woman Hating; Pornography; all four by Andrea Dworkin
Against Our Will, Susan Brownmiller
Ain't I a Woman, bell hooks
Sister Outsider, Audre Lorde
I haven't read it but I've also seen The Female Eunuch by Germaine Greer recommended a lot.
These are all good starts for second-wave feminism imo. upon reading them you'll also find some recommendations to other books as second-wave feminists referenced each other pretty often.
I would also advise reading history books written about the second-wave on the side. For example, Jewish Radical Feminism by Joyce Antler shades some light on Firestone's, Brownmiller's and Dworkin's life and political perspectives that helps put their work in context. Another really good one is Battling Pornography by Carolyn Bronstein, you can read this in a series with Pornography by Andrea Dworkin and Against Our Will by Susan Brownmiller. And then you also have The Trouble Between Us by Winifred Breines, about the tensions between white and black, straight and lesbian, upper and lower class second wave feminists. Also a very interesting read that puts some works in context and still has strong relevance nowadays
i think people (men and men-simps) miss a crucial aspect of women hating men.
the harm it inflicts.
if a woman hates men and is vocal about it, the worst that happens is she alienates the men in her life and hurts some feelings.
but that's the extent of it. our society doesn't discriminate against men. our society doesn't value women's contributions over men's. our society doesn't sexualize men the way it sexualizes women. men aren't generally viewed by society as a commodity or a prize at the end of the battle or a reward for being a decent person. our society doesn't view men as tools for sexual gratification and nothing more. "misandry" is low-stakes.
and it's borne of misogyny. men hate us, men oppress us, men violate us, men have built the world to tear down our self-esteem and minimize our worth, men assault us, men are in charge and then they pay us less and don't promote us, men control our bodies and send us to prison if we don't act as incubators against our will, men view us as free maids and mothers and shoulders to cry on before using our holes for their own enjoyment. we don't know which man will hurt us like this by looking, we act suspicious and they tell us we're paranoid we trust them and get hurt and they tell us we should've known better.
of course we hate men. men oppress us in all facets of society and despite decades of progress we're still suffering under them, and it's getting worse with the overturn of Roe v. Wade and the election of a rapist into our nation's highest office because America hates women more than it hates rapists. it's to be expected that we would hate men.
and before the terf accusations pile on, i do not count trans women as men. i support anyone joining Team Woman. my goal is to smash the patriarchy, not other women.
yeah, it’s like that atwood quote about how men are afraid that women will laugh at them while women are afraid that men will murder them
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