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Why I created “The Lit Agenda”

During the midst of the pandemic that shut the world down in 2020, I stumbled upon the world of Bookstagram/Booktube and I fell in love with what seemed to me to be an online haven for people like me. Bookish people. Without too much pondering, I decided to create a bookstagram and booktube of my own to highlight and showcase my own literary and reading for pleasure universe. Due to the stay-at-home mandate and culture that marked the pandemic, I spent a lot of time at home thinking about how very caught up I had become in living to work instead of working to live. I wanted to reclaim my life back and I was identifying the things that could help me do so. I created, “The Lit Agenda,” short for “The Literary Agenda” to be more intentional and consistent about making time for the things that matter to me. That simple. That’s it. I’m using literature to help me take back my life. That’s my agenda. 

This pandemic has really given me a chance to take a break free from my rigid work schedule, to slow down and meaningfully reflect on the importance and necessity of shaping a life that just feels good and authentic to me. Naturally, being the person that I am, reading and writing for pleasure make it somewhere near the  top of the list of things that are critical for me in shaping a life that I love.

For any avid reader, I don’t think the concept of literature as being life-saving comes as a shock. If you are new to the world of reading or simply reading for pleasure. Please allow me to explain my meaning. For me, literature has been so fundamental in shaping my understanding of life and the world. Literature has given me the opportunities to experience things beyond the capabilities of my own imagination, it has fostered and deepened my curiosity and fascination for life and the world. Literature has enabled me to experience wonderful adventures and discover new domains of understanding; too many times it has functioned as a great equalizer of sorts for me — many times allowing me to go, experience, and learn things that the world would attempt to deny me access.

With my bookstagram and booktube account, I want to showcase and explore the genres of African & Afro-diasoporic literature, world literature, magical realism, and poetry. I’m also very fond of literary fiction in general, most especially world literature that explores colonialism/post-colonialism, interculturality, identity politics, and the concept home/belonging.

As a writer who believes that next to reading and writing, being in community with other writers is one of the most important things one can do to improve one’s craft, I’m looking to start a Reading As Writers Workshop (#RAWWorkshop) to be in and help foster community with other writers as well.

I aim to create a community eager to explore the meaning, purpose, impact of literature as an art form through reading, book reviews, conversation, foreign language, and craft development. I hope to engage a global community of readers and writers who believe in the life-saving nature of literature. 

If you’ve made it all the way here, it means you’ve made it all the way to my blog, and I thank you for it. Please feel free to introduce yourself and tell me more about your reading experience, and/or the type of stuff that make it on your list of things that matter and are critical in shaping a life that you love! 

Chapter 24: Holistic Development

Once upon a time, my younger self watched a video of Oprah Winfrey interviewing some accomplished woman, inquiring about what the young woman felt she felt she had arrived in life. If memory serves me right, Oprah then added that she herself felt she had arrived at the age of 23.

Having now experienced 23 years myself, I must confess there was a time I willed myself into arrival, but alas, after a hard long look at my year and myself, the most I can say for myself is that I am still learning.

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Creative Blues: Writing with or without purpose

Writing well is time consuming, and I’m not always well-equipped for the time-warp challenge. There I said it.

This past year, I have had a problem with writing fiction consistently (not so much poetry tbh). I tell myself I don’t have enough time, and a whole other host of things that just get in the way. And to be fair, I have been pretty busy. But I’m also pretty hard on myself, and the work that I produce.

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Religion, Spirituality, and Mental Health: What losing religion feels like

I remember telling my Christian auntie before the beginning of my Freshman year that I would be majoring in Philosophy to which she responded, “Be careful. Most people who go and major in that thing come out not believing that God exists.” So maybe this is that post, maybe not. I cannot say with a sound conscious that I do not believe a God exists (if pressed for details I will explain that I am agnostic in the sense that I do believe there is a God, but I am not sure that we can truly know all things about the nature of God). But I must say this, I do view religion as an institution and I do not believe that this institution is necessary in order for one to get in touch with their spirituality.

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This is America: Performing for the White Gaze

I’m sensitive. I willingly admit that.

I’m still a bit scarred from my undergrad days at a PWI. That’s my truth and I feel the need to share that as it was during this time that my faith in the power of words and the arts in general to produce actualized societal change was truly tested. It was during this time that I found myself increasingly intertwining my art with my politics. Recently, I’ve been feeling the need to keep the two a bit more separated.

Let’s get into it.

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#TheCreativeLifestyle Guide

Okay, so I’m back after a whole year of planning the thing, another year of ditching the thing, and another additional year of rebranding the thing, I’ve finally had the guts to go ahead and launch my blog!

In celebration of this feat, here’s a reference guide that I’ve devised for myself for those times when I lose momentum/forget how to get the Creative thing done:

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Release

From our breasts,

our men suck sweetness dry,

grow strong enough

to carry themselves away,

letting our love overflow into shriveled waste.

 

Emboldened by the fullness of our devotion,

our men recoil from reciprocity.

Grow tired of us,

yet presume our loyalty;

exhaust our consideration

until bitterness overtakes our bosom.

 

In our minds, we know love is not possessive

so we watch in silent bamboozlement

as our men grow free of belonging.

We wait, weighed down with loyalty and longing,

even as time enlightens our senses,

revealing we choose the love we get.

Service

A girl gets lost in the music,

the blended voice

of the choir sings.

This is only a warm-up,

the sermon is still coming

when the old man speaks

 

A pew, or two,

behind.

You oughta smile in his house.

The words float over her head

as the visage is becoming

like stone,

cold.

 

The smile stretches her lips,

It is womanly exercise.

 

A girl laughs audibly

but mostly as performance

for the others in the surrounding pews.

This part does not feel genuine, does not come easy

all the smiling and singing along

She concentrates her face, taking instruction

 

Even in sanctuary,

there are governing rules and regulations.