Only a few months ago, my outlook on the creative and art world was bleak. I was in muddy waters with my manuscript that had been on submissions for six months. I turned down a book offer from an editor that I’m pretty sure hadn’t even read the book. I was stressed about the prospect of finding a new agent while trying to finish a new project. Then I went to a residency and left due to all sorts of white toxicity. I boarded my plane back to Ohio, both proud of myself and so conflicted about where I was headed next.