On Stuff and Dedications

When I was a kid, I loved to read. My books of choice were collections of humorous essays. I would publicly declare my love for newspaper columnist Dave Barry while privately reading my mom's copies of Erma Bombeck at home. I channeled that love into creating myself, where over the years I would write a number of essays, webcomics, and even produce a YouTube video or two when I had the time on my hands.

One day in high school, I felt like I had written enough to self-publish. I combined a whole five essays together into a single Word document and took it to the printers. It was ten pages long (single-sided), and I thought it was the Great American Novel. In a moment of creative genius, I named my compilation Stuff. I made five copies and planned on selling them for a dollar each.

I gave four away and kept one for safekeeping.

One of the people who accepted the four copies was my best friend's little sister. She was in junior high at the time, so I thought her taste in writing may be suspect, but I let her have a copy because 1) she was the only person who asked for one, and 2) nobody else showed more than the tiniest bit of interest (moms don't count) (hi, mom. EDITORS NOTE: You do count).

I know that an artist is often their own worst critic. When I wrote Stuff, even then I thought it was hot garbage. I published it anyways. As time went by, I'm sure that everyone else's copies of my first compilation of my work would eventually make their way to the trash, hopefully winding up in a compost pile to one day contribute to society. My copy did.

But over a decade later, I had run into my best friend's little sister again. We hadn't seen each other in years, as adult lives tend to pull people apart. While catching up she pointed out that she still had her copy of Stuff after all these years. Not only that, but she told me she still read it from time to time and it would put a smile on her face.

I think back to her story of keeping my essays and it always brightens my day. Even though we agreed to meet again, the day we caught up was one of the last times I saw her. She passed away from cancer in 2019. I will always remember her as my first fan.

Kathryn Croy Jones, this version of divvyo.com is dedicated to you. I hope to keep it going for awhile longer in your memory.