Process Diary #7 📚

On Playing With Voice.

Good morning, everyone—happy Wednesday ⛅️

Last week, I read an incredible essay by Evelyn Jouvenet ( a pseudonym) that ran in The Cut: “The Last Thing My Mother Wanted.” Though it is mostly an essay about a complicated and emotionally abusive relationship between a mother and her daughter, it is also a story about mortality—what one makes of it, but also how one contends with it, too. What I loved most about the writing, though, was Jouvenet’s use of time as a way to both date and punctuate her story. Take this part, for example, when Jouvenet describes the days leading up to her mother’s assisted suicide:

Thirteen days. I’ve been calling her more frequently, panning for any evidence that we could speak truthfully. She tells me every time that she has nothing interesting to say. Once, my call goes to voice-mail and she texts an explanation; she’s getting her legs waxed. Twelve days. She’s having good-bye dinners and lunches. Some participants know, but some don’t.