Unquiet
Things

When I was about fifteen, I fell in love with a kiwi-scented lip balm from the Body Shop. It came in a cute little pot, a gloopy treasure trove of bright green goodness. I was completely smitten. I remember telling my sister, “If they ever interview me and ask what product I’d recommend, this would be the first one!” Looking back, I realize I had no idea who “they” were, but… I think it’s the same mysterious “them” that I write these blog posts for now.

As a teenager, I wrote in my diary with the subtle awareness that someone might read it someday. Maybe it wasn’t written explicitly for an audience, but there was always that thought, a quiet, pervasive tickle in the back of my mind. And so maybe events were exaggerated, embellished. Real-life with a flourish, little semi-fictions, Without realizing it, I was planting seeds for something that would bloom years later.

When I discovered blogging, it felt like I’d found a hidden door in my own house, one that opened onto a weird little garden where those earlier plantings were waiting for me. All those years of scribbling in private had unknowingly set the stage for this new kind of writing. New, but it already felt so familiar! Blogging gave me a chance to share my thoughts with real people, to start conversations, and to connect with others who shared my peculiar blend of interests. It was exhilarating to think that my words could leap beyond the confines of my diary and potentially touch someone else’s life.

Each blog post became a bottle cast into the digital sea, carrying a piece of my inner world to shores unknown. But now, instead of just daydreaming about being interviewed, I was actually putting my thoughts out there for people to read. It was both thrilling and a little unnerving, like stepping onto a stage I’d been preparing for without realizing it.

 

This summer, I spent much more time writing for this blog than I typically do over the span of 30 days. I was avoiding social media the month of July, so every time I got the itchy urge to start scrolling through Instagram, I’d come here instead and draft a bunch of ideas. A lot of them were terrifically, soul-searchingly self-absorbed because, as you can imagine, I was in my own head and up my own ass quite a bit while I was trying to find things to do with myself. And apparently, the place in between the brains and the butthole is where I ended up: the navel. And there was a lot of gazing.

That’s how I came to be rewriting my “About” page, and this, too, was a peculiar exercise in introspection. As I wrestled with words to encapsulate the essence of Unquiet Things, a question bubbled up from the depths of my psyche like a particularly persistent specter’s fart: for whom exactly (other than myself) am I writing for?

It struck me as ironically familiar. In my journey as a writer, I’ve often found myself on the other side of this question. When interviewing artists and other creators, I frequently ask them, “Who are your creations for?” It’s funny how life unfolds – I once dreamed of being the subject of interviews, but I grew up to be the one asking the questions.

Now, I found myself putting that same question to myself. Who is my audience? Who are these posts for? It was an attempt to define that ill-defined “them,” to put faces on the nebulous, shifting idea of an audience that had been with me since those lip balm daydreams. I wanted to understand who, beyond myself, was reading these posts and exploring this cabinet of curiosities with me.

In this post, I am shining a light on this question and taking a stab at pinning down some answers.  I’ve identified five main types of readers who seem to frequent these digital halls. Each group brings its own interests and perspectives, collectively creating the “Them” I’ve been looking to connect with my entire life.

 

The Curious Explorers and Enthusiastic Amateur Investigators

These are the readers who love to uncover hidden knowledge and explore the lesser-known corners of history and culture. They’re drawn to obscure facts, forgotten stories, and the mysteries that linger in old places. Every post about an arcane subject or a little-known historical figure is a treasure map for these curious souls.  You’re the ones reading the Mary Roach books,  the Atlas Obscura & Public Domain Review websites; you may have a subscription to the Fortean times, and I bet you have been to The Museum of Jurassic Technology more than once.

 

 

The Aesthetic Appreciators

These readers find beauty in unexpected places. They’re drawn to the elegance of vintage objects, the artistry in melancholy, the allure of the slightly unconventional. They appreciate the visual aspects of the blog – the carefully chosen images, the descriptions of unique fashion or decor or fragrance. For them, beauty often lies in the details and the stories behind them. You no doubt have a piece of Victorian hairwork in your collection, own several copies of The Picture of Dorian Gray, you have curated a collection of vintage slips, and have a list of pleasing (or hateful) things a la Sei Shonagun.

 

The Reflective Souls

These are the readers who appreciate moments of quiet introspection. They’re drawn to posts that ponder life’s big questions, explore emotional landscapes, or offer a different perspective on familiar experiences. They find comfort or resonance in the more personal, vulnerable aspects of the writing here. I bet you have read Joan Didion’s The Year Of Magical Thinking or  Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist (not saying you had to enjoy it–I didn’t care for either one– but they’ve been checked off your list.) You may have attended a Death Cafe, you probably have a list of favorite Ingmar Bergman film’s ranked. You definitely keep a dream journal or a gratitude journal or a commonplace book. It seems colorfully, boisterously counterintuitive, but I bet you enjoyed Steven Universe and think about it quite frequently. For all your musings on mortality and meditations on melancholy, I think you are also in love with the idea of “demented glee” and “unhinged joy.”

 

The Horror Aficionados and Fantastical Dreamers

These are the thrill-seekers of the psyche, the connoisseurs of the uncanny who find exquisite pleasure in the chill of fear crawling up their spine. They devour tales of terror with voracious appetites, from cosmic horrors that unravel sanity to the quiet dread that lurks in everyday shadows. Yet, their palates are equally attuned to the fantastical where nightmares and dreams intertwine. Whether it’s book or film reviews of gothic fiction, dark fairy tales, horror stories, or explorations of the uncanny in everyday life, these readers are here for the stories that blur the lines between reality and imagination. You no doubt know one person who plays the theremin and have tried to listen to Diamanda Galás, though it’s 50/50 as to whether that’s your thing or not. You keep trying. You have a favorite Suspiria (“both” are an acceptable answer.) The Time Life Enchanted World Ghosts book was a formative tome for you. You swear you’re never again going to visit the /nosleep subreddit when you’re home alone, but you keep doing it anyway. Stephen King and/or George Romero may be surrogate fathers for you, and you have read the book club edition Dracula/Frankenstein omnibus with the Frank Frazetta cover art at least 50 times.

 

The Gentle Spirits and Solitude Seekers

These readers find joy in solitude and simple pleasures while also nurturing an appreciation for the slightly offbeat. They might be the quiet crafters, the thoughtful gardeners, the solo wanderers. They’re drawn to posts that celebrate small moments of beauty or tranquility, especially when those moments have a touch of the unusual or unexpected. You own at least one Mary Oliver collection. You knit/crochet/cross-stitch/needlepoint.  You’ve named your sourdough starter and are obsessed with pickling and fermenting. You were probably obsessed with Tasha Tudor at one point, and Frog & Toad feel like old friends. And oh my god, the Beatrix Potter ballet! You’re definitely in the Haunted Cottagecore Facebook group, and you wish it didn’t take the admins three weeks to approve your very relevant artwork post when it seems like the stupid meme posts get approved right away. Over the Garden Wall is a year-round staple. You know the words to “Potatoes & Molasses” by heart.

 

As I reflect on these different groups of readers, I’m struck by how they overlap and intertwine. And really, how they are all pieces of my very own heart and soul. Each category represents a facet of my own interests, a reflection of the various corners of my mind where curiosity, aesthetics, introspection, imagination, and gentleness reside. In a way, by writing for you, I’m also writing for all the different versions of myself – past, present, and perhaps even future. Many of you probably see yourselves in more than one category or perhaps in none of them exactly. That’s the beauty of this community – it’s as diverse and multifaceted as the topics we explore here.

This blog has become a meeting place for all these varied interests and perspectives. It’s a space where we can indulge our curiosity, appreciate unconventional beauty, reflect on life’s complexities, explore imaginative realms, and find moments of quiet connection. Blogging, for me, is a way to reach out to this wonderfully diverse “them” I once only imagined. It’s a chance to share ideas, to learn from others, to make sense of the world together. Every post is an invitation to explore, to reflect, to connect.

 

 

So why do I blog? I blog because it’s the realization of that teenage dream, the manifestation of that imaginary “them” I’ve carried with me since my kiwi lip balm days. I blog because it allows me to be both the interviewer and the interviewed, to ask questions and offer answers, to seek and to share. I blog because in this digital garden, I’ve found a place where my peculiar blend of interests can flourish alongside yours.

In the end, “them” turned out to be you – the curious explorers, the aesthetic appreciators, the reflective souls, the horror aficionados, the gentle spirits. You’re the ones who read about Victorian hairwork and then go make a sourdough starter named after a gothic heroine. You’re the ones who can quote Mary Oliver and Stephen King in the same breath. You’re the ones who find beauty in melancholy and joy in the uncanny.

Every comment, every shared experience, every “me too!” moment in the blog is a reminder that the “them” I once imagined has become real. It’s you, reading these words right now. You’re the community I never knew I needed, the audience I always hoped for.

 

 

I’ll be the first to admit that this whole exercise has been tremendously self-involved. But you know what? It’s also been tremendously fun. It’s given me a chance to reflect on why I do what I do, to appreciate the community we’ve built here, and to dream up new ideas for future posts. After all, now that I’ve imagined you all so vividly, how can I not want to create more content that speaks to every facet of this wonderfully eclectic audience?

So hooray to you, to us, to this weird and wonderful “them” we’ve created together. We figured it out, together! Thank you for being here, for exploring this cabinet of curiosities with me, for making Unquiet Things more than just a collection of posts. It’s a conversation, a connection, a community of kindred spirits – or rather, kindred glooms! Together, we’ve created a space where our unquiet thoughts can roam freely, where our shared fascinations with the beautiful, the melancholic, and the mysterious can flourish.

Huzzah, weirdos! You’re my favorite Them in the gloopy green lip balm of life. And thanks for letting me tell you all about it.

 

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