Michelle Richmond

Notes on Memory and San Francisco’s Outer Lands

I WILL RETURN again and again to that moment. I will keep a notebook in which I record the details. There will be poorly done sketches, graphs of time and motion, page after page on which I attempt to recover the past. I will pretend that memory is reliable, that it does not erode as quickly and completely as the brittle lines of an Etch-a-Sketch. I will tell myself that, buried somewhere in the intricate maze of my mind, there is a detail, a clue, some tiny lost thing that will lead me to Emma.

By the Time You Read This

a serial novella

By the time you read this I will be unreachable. I will be on the other side. No—not that side. We are not talking about death. We are talking about something else altogether. Somewhere else. Hard to to describe, even harder to define, but I will try to do so in another missive.

I would like for you to meet me here, but I can’t tell you how. You will have to find your own way.

Notes on a Marriage

by way of Joan Didion

Not long ago I told my husband, “The book I want for Mother’s Day is You Could Make This Place Beautiful by Maggie Smith (not that Maggie Smith).”

He said, “We could make this place beautiful.”

I said, “We could, but first, more coffee…”

Tenderest

an audio story, exclusive to subscribers

I recently published an audio story for subscribers to my author newsletter. It’s called “Tenderest,” and it’s about love, labor, and New York City.

You can listen to the story here.