Swimming Pool Thoughts turns two years old this winter, and I am so so grateful to be able to share this project with each one of you! I am continually humbled by how warmly you welcome my words into my inboxes, and it’s been such a privilege to share this part of myself with you all. Every word of encouragement means so much to me, and I’m so so grateful for all of your thoughts and feedback!!!! <3
It’s time for our annual chem check, so here’s some thoughts on what SPT looked like in 2024 and where we’ll heading in 2025:
The facts
14 pieces this year, 1.16 a month but I didn’t publish anything in March, August, or November. I would like to be more consistent next year!
Three pieces I think of as just fun and silly (Critter Dinner, red lights, and Forks)
Two personal-essay type pieces (Dear New Haven and Celebrations)
Two pieces adapted from sermons (The love we all are longing for and Year of Jubilee)
Four researched opinion pieces (you thrift because you have commitment issues, sin, salvation, and Sephora kids, Thoughts on Panem, daughters named Rahab)
1 fiction piece (Pants)
2 “other” pieces (Riverbanking and 23)
Median word count was 1690.5. I have 3 pieces below 1000 words and 4 with more than 2000, but 1400-1800 is definitely the range I’m most comfortable with
5 of the 14 pieces I posted this year were “overtly Christian,” but I felt like that would be a much higher proportion. Probably because my faith does inform literally everything I write, so to me it’s all Christian content—whether the piece is an actual sermon or just fiction narrated by a pair of pants. (Can y’all tell? Did that number surprise you too? I’d love to hear some reader perspectives on this)
Only 3 pieces came from ideas more than six months old—that’s 21% this year compared to 38% last year. I don’t have as many pieces marinating in the depths of my Google drive as I did when I started SPT—which has been a challenge, because my best ideas usually need to sit for a while. But more on that in a bit…
The feelings
I was shocked to realize that I only did two traditional personal essays this year, as that used to be my go-to genre. But it makes sense—I didn’t write anything like “Cheer Captains, Sexy Babies, and the Monsters on the Bleachers” or “I need to know where the squirrels go” in 2024.
And on one hand, I shouldn’t really expect to write pieces like that every few months. Those pieces were memorable for me, and for many of you, because they were the culmination of years of emotional processing.
But personal essays shouldn't be synonymous with trauma-dumping anyway, and I’d like to give more of my heart in my writing next year. Pieces like “Dear New Haven” and “Pants” were successful because of the emotion behind them. Even more analytical opinion pieces like “daughters named Rahab” and “sin, salvation, and Sephora kids” shine because even if my own story is barely mentioned, it’s clear that I care.
***
As I worked on this analysis I was haunted by the feeling that SPT lost some of the wild and heartfelt strength it had in 2023. Did I spend a year writing just for the sake of writing? Just making content for the sake of content?
But then I read my own words from an essay I posted this spring:
Every year, every month, every week and every day does matter because if we’re only measuring the milestones then we’re not counting the quiet content of our lives. Our lives might be anchored on special occasions but they’re shaped by all the moments that seem forgettable.
Most people, including me, fall into the belief that art is only worth making if it’s excellent. We believe that creative projects are only worth the effort if they’re unforgettable. But, ironically, it’s the fear of making lame or cringy art–or even just boring art—that stops us from taking the risks to create something brilliant.
So not everything I write has to be my favorite thing I’ve ever written. But all my pieces are a little part of my life and writing is something I love to do—and that’s enough. And all these essays come together to be something beautiful, something I can be proud of, because not all art will be a masterpiece, but life—that bouquet of “quiet content”—always is.
So, what did the last year of writing compile to become? I analyzed the central theses from each of the 14 pieces I posted last year, and realized they could be combined into three ideas:
Even the simple moments of life deserve our intentionality and love.
Even the seemingly mediocre and unlovable things can be seen in a way that deserves love.
God gives us the love, meaning, significance, and stability we're all looking for... even though we don't deserve it.
And really, I think the first two ideas are just a reflection of the third idea. I could sum up all of SPT like this: God makes the unlovable, the undeserving, and the unimportant worthy of his greatest joy and adoration—and we should do the same.
The Ranking
Best:
Dear New Haven (October)
daughters named Rahab (January)
Pants (May)
Honorable Mention:
The love we all are longing for (September)
Critter Dinner (February)
Forks (June)
Thanks again for being part of this journey with me :)