You may never again write anything as beautiful as that again. I mean all of it, but really I mean this one, #108. I don’t know whether that should be happy or sad for you, but it has been a gift to your readers, to us, to me. What you have given is, I believe, The Point. Thank you for all of them, but somehow mostly for #108. ❤️
I was a bit, er, emotional when I finished, and didn't really give this time to land. Thanks so much Adam. Actually still quite emotional, now I think about it. Happy Sunday x
That last line knocked about my head for about a week. You know how it is, when they jangle about for your attention? Would it work? I didn't know. But I think whoever it is that is the writer inside me knew it would. I read it now and think it's quite funny. Silly, really, just leaving an excuse for a return if I want one. I like that gap. The pregnancy of the space.
You never know who’s going to swing through a hole in the internet and have a real effect on you, who will--just by virtue of being themselves--torque your own path. I appreciate lots of people on the internet, love their writing, and still remain untorqued by them. The majority! How could it be otherwise. But you, friend, are one of those rare torquers, and that’s why I signed us up for a friendship without seeking permission first. You’re a freedom delivery system just opening your mouth and being you.
Feeling clever about starting at the beginning of The Recovery Diaries now and catching the ones I missed. I don’t have to be sad to see it go--I can just hang out on this carousel some more. Horses are still going round.
I've just reread this because the first time around I was a bit, er, emotional about it. I've got about 15 different parts of me fighting it out for who gets to speak first, the writer wins - that phrase & image "you never know who's going to swing thru a hole in the internet" and then the funny in me couldn't love you more for signing us up without seeking permission, and then the straight talker just wants to raise a glass to straight talking you. I've been thinking about you since that last opalescent ghost post, and sending love across the airwaves. It was a clear hitter. And then this morning talking to another friend who lost a child. So there's that. Sending love x
Oh, friend. <chest thump> Voom, straight to the heart. Thank you for all of this. (And I get it, re: getting emotional.) I’m bowing my head for your friend and the unimaginable. And I’m going to reply to one of your emails with some friend action (and a blurb if you’re still in the market) so brace yourself. XO
I'm not sure what to say that hasn't been said by other commenters. I've only found your work relatively recently and I haven't kept up with In Judgement of Others, just because I didn't really have an open slot in my life for a serial novel, but every time I've opened one of the handful of Recovery Diaries I've read I've found it to be powerful, dreamlike, and potent even without more context.
As another commenter said, every ending is a new beginning, and for me this ending lands at the beginning of a big change and a wild new chapter in my own life, and my own new Diary to fill with words of recovery, hopefully at least half as potent as yours.
❤️🩹❤️🔥
(also, if you weren't planning to already, it would be nice to have all 108 Recovery Diaries collected in their own tab at the top, like the 65 Postcards and In Judgement Others, in case a person (me) might want to start from the beginning and read the whole series a little more easily.🙏)
Hi there, coming back to this as I'm now putting together a print edition of the memoir and diaries. I was wondering if I could pick out a phrase from your comment above to add to the blurbs on the fly leaf? Your (substack) name would be attached (if you'd like to give me another name to attach, I'll do that happily). I'd like to use "powerful, dreamlike, and potent." That okay?
I’m so happy to have found your writing recently, Eleanor. So raw and relatable, and yet completely unique in voice. Can’t wait to see where this goes.
Would you be comfortable with me lifting some of your comment for a blurb, with your name attached, to include in the print edition? I'd love to use "So raw and relatable, and yet completely unique in voice." would that be okay? (And please excuse if I've asked you already. I might be having an actual brain scramble.) x
My pleasure Nataliia. I’m in the process of putting them all into their own space so that they can be found easily, meanwhile they’ll all remain on my home page and archive.
I realised this morning that I was avoiding reading this one, as I knew it was the last and I genuinely felt gutted about it. I’m grateful there’s a bunch from the beginning that I’ve not seen, and I’m grateful to you for speaking to your processing in the deft way that you do. These diaries ending makes me think of a line from a poem I love, ‘Everything is beautiful and I am so sad’. ❤️
PS. Did you always know it would be 108 or did it just happen that way?
Nov 22, 2023·edited Nov 22, 2023Liked by Eleanor Anstruther
Eleanor, I'm traveling, with little time to read Substack, but seeing this, I had to stop. We knew it was coming, we started to see it coming (you said so) and here it is. "The shelf life of grief" -- what a phrase to live with, and then live with. Thank you for sharing with us, such an exploration of yourself and all our frailty and resilience, in such luminous, perceptive prose always.
"I am digging my way out. But everything like art must end and this is it, an end to these diaries. It’s been fun. You know when there’s a big goodbye, and you hug everyone and kiss some people twice by mistake and go back for another last-minute conversation with someone else and finally rush out the door waving and halfway down the path you realise you’ve forgotten your keys?"
It was all a bit emotional signing off that piece of work, so I'm just going back to read comments again, yours, and to say how much your vote of confidence means to me. Thanks AJA. Here's to safe and happy travels.
Eleanor, I'm touched by how you're reviewing these comments to let them all sink in -- how emotional reaching the end must have been. (There are a couple of stanzas in Waiting for Word over which I cried as I conceived and wrote them.) I was hours late, I thought, when I read your call for blurbs, and by then it seemed you had tons, so I thought "no need." But if you want more, it seems the last lines of my comment might serve, if it appeals. No worry if not, or I'd write something else if you want more. The greatest pleasure of Substack for me after sharing my own writing has been the chance to revel personally in the talent of other writers, and you're certainly that for me.
I completely understand how you must have cried as you conceived and wrote. I know that place well. I have had a really generous reaction to my call out, but as I am a fan of your work, and see your calibre, a blurb from you would mean a great deal to me and my work. Those last lines are completely heaven, so with that blessing, I'll use them. And sitting just now on a sunny platform in Toulon Gare, Andy and I were discussing how the publishing industry is going the way of the music, in that artists are finding a way into the city despite the gate keepers whose methods of choice have been lately and for too long, shutting us out. Substack is just such a tunnel under the walls, and the joy of emerging, and finding such talent there as you, as Mary, Adam, Deirdre Lewis and Tina Rowley to name but a few, skipping about in the sunshine has been the joy of this year. It has completely revolutionised my experience of this writing life. Vive la revolution!
Look at you, saving the best for last and giving us great wisdom as you're rushing out the door. I mean, that closing line is just golden. Thank you for these gifts each day.
I have not read this entire series, but every post I do read offers up some naked, undeniable truth that is beautifully wrought. There's such an immediacy to it. Thank you for sharing your life so courageously.
I will miss the recovery diaries very much. But happily I can still see you, a lighter, brighter version of the you before the diaries. What a joy.
I agree. A powerful series. Thank you.
🙌🏻
❤️ 🌤️ xx
You may never again write anything as beautiful as that again. I mean all of it, but really I mean this one, #108. I don’t know whether that should be happy or sad for you, but it has been a gift to your readers, to us, to me. What you have given is, I believe, The Point. Thank you for all of them, but somehow mostly for #108. ❤️
I was a bit, er, emotional when I finished, and didn't really give this time to land. Thanks so much Adam. Actually still quite emotional, now I think about it. Happy Sunday x
Farewell, Recovery Diaries! Can't wait to see what's next. ❤️🎀❤️
❤️🎀❤️
Thank you for leaving the keys with us.
I loved how you ended this. Such airy grace.
RIP the Recovery Diaries, ¡viva your writing!
I've loved your cheering every day, Jeffrey. Thank you.
No shelf life of grief: How I know this so profoundly. Beautifully stated--with the close of forgotten keys.
That last line knocked about my head for about a week. You know how it is, when they jangle about for your attention? Would it work? I didn't know. But I think whoever it is that is the writer inside me knew it would. I read it now and think it's quite funny. Silly, really, just leaving an excuse for a return if I want one. I like that gap. The pregnancy of the space.
You never know who’s going to swing through a hole in the internet and have a real effect on you, who will--just by virtue of being themselves--torque your own path. I appreciate lots of people on the internet, love their writing, and still remain untorqued by them. The majority! How could it be otherwise. But you, friend, are one of those rare torquers, and that’s why I signed us up for a friendship without seeking permission first. You’re a freedom delivery system just opening your mouth and being you.
Feeling clever about starting at the beginning of The Recovery Diaries now and catching the ones I missed. I don’t have to be sad to see it go--I can just hang out on this carousel some more. Horses are still going round.
XO
I've just reread this because the first time around I was a bit, er, emotional about it. I've got about 15 different parts of me fighting it out for who gets to speak first, the writer wins - that phrase & image "you never know who's going to swing thru a hole in the internet" and then the funny in me couldn't love you more for signing us up without seeking permission, and then the straight talker just wants to raise a glass to straight talking you. I've been thinking about you since that last opalescent ghost post, and sending love across the airwaves. It was a clear hitter. And then this morning talking to another friend who lost a child. So there's that. Sending love x
Oh, friend. <chest thump> Voom, straight to the heart. Thank you for all of this. (And I get it, re: getting emotional.) I’m bowing my head for your friend and the unimaginable. And I’m going to reply to one of your emails with some friend action (and a blurb if you’re still in the market) so brace yourself. XO
I am in market (bracing) xx
❤️
I'm not sure what to say that hasn't been said by other commenters. I've only found your work relatively recently and I haven't kept up with In Judgement of Others, just because I didn't really have an open slot in my life for a serial novel, but every time I've opened one of the handful of Recovery Diaries I've read I've found it to be powerful, dreamlike, and potent even without more context.
As another commenter said, every ending is a new beginning, and for me this ending lands at the beginning of a big change and a wild new chapter in my own life, and my own new Diary to fill with words of recovery, hopefully at least half as potent as yours.
❤️🩹❤️🔥
(also, if you weren't planning to already, it would be nice to have all 108 Recovery Diaries collected in their own tab at the top, like the 65 Postcards and In Judgement Others, in case a person (me) might want to start from the beginning and read the whole series a little more easily.🙏)
That’s my next job! I’ll give them their own space & reconfigure to read in order. Thanks for reading, and best of luck with your new beginning ❤️
Hi there, coming back to this as I'm now putting together a print edition of the memoir and diaries. I was wondering if I could pick out a phrase from your comment above to add to the blurbs on the fly leaf? Your (substack) name would be attached (if you'd like to give me another name to attach, I'll do that happily). I'd like to use "powerful, dreamlike, and potent." That okay?
The end is the beginning. Thankyou for sharing these diaries and good luck with the next bit. Ellie x
Thanks Ellie! X
I’m so happy to have found your writing recently, Eleanor. So raw and relatable, and yet completely unique in voice. Can’t wait to see where this goes.
Hi Kathleen,
Would you be comfortable with me lifting some of your comment for a blurb, with your name attached, to include in the print edition? I'd love to use "So raw and relatable, and yet completely unique in voice." would that be okay? (And please excuse if I've asked you already. I might be having an actual brain scramble.) x
Yes absolutely. Anytime, I’d be honoured 🤗
(Let me know if a longer quote would be useful)
That length is ideal. Thanks Kathleen x
Right back at you, Kathleen, so happy to have you on board. Loving this community. Loving your work ❤️
What a glorious conclusion. Thanks for the fucking ride, Eleanor. Onward.
🙌♥️🏇🏼
Thank you for your diaries. I would like to read them from the very beginning.
My pleasure Nataliia. I’m in the process of putting them all into their own space so that they can be found easily, meanwhile they’ll all remain on my home page and archive.
Thanks! Sounds hopeful)))
I realised this morning that I was avoiding reading this one, as I knew it was the last and I genuinely felt gutted about it. I’m grateful there’s a bunch from the beginning that I’ve not seen, and I’m grateful to you for speaking to your processing in the deft way that you do. These diaries ending makes me think of a line from a poem I love, ‘Everything is beautiful and I am so sad’. ❤️
PS. Did you always know it would be 108 or did it just happen that way?
Thanks Chloe, I’m really touched that they’ve meant something to you. And yes, I was about halfway in when I realised that they would end on 108.
I will miss these, I will go back and re-read and find what I didn’t see, and I will look forward to whatever you do next.
Thanks Sal
Eleanor, I'm traveling, with little time to read Substack, but seeing this, I had to stop. We knew it was coming, we started to see it coming (you said so) and here it is. "The shelf life of grief" -- what a phrase to live with, and then live with. Thank you for sharing with us, such an exploration of yourself and all our frailty and resilience, in such luminous, perceptive prose always.
"I am digging my way out. But everything like art must end and this is it, an end to these diaries. It’s been fun. You know when there’s a big goodbye, and you hug everyone and kiss some people twice by mistake and go back for another last-minute conversation with someone else and finally rush out the door waving and halfway down the path you realise you’ve forgotten your keys?"
Here’s to you, @Eleanor Anstruther
It was all a bit emotional signing off that piece of work, so I'm just going back to read comments again, yours, and to say how much your vote of confidence means to me. Thanks AJA. Here's to safe and happy travels.
Eleanor, I'm touched by how you're reviewing these comments to let them all sink in -- how emotional reaching the end must have been. (There are a couple of stanzas in Waiting for Word over which I cried as I conceived and wrote them.) I was hours late, I thought, when I read your call for blurbs, and by then it seemed you had tons, so I thought "no need." But if you want more, it seems the last lines of my comment might serve, if it appeals. No worry if not, or I'd write something else if you want more. The greatest pleasure of Substack for me after sharing my own writing has been the chance to revel personally in the talent of other writers, and you're certainly that for me.
I completely understand how you must have cried as you conceived and wrote. I know that place well. I have had a really generous reaction to my call out, but as I am a fan of your work, and see your calibre, a blurb from you would mean a great deal to me and my work. Those last lines are completely heaven, so with that blessing, I'll use them. And sitting just now on a sunny platform in Toulon Gare, Andy and I were discussing how the publishing industry is going the way of the music, in that artists are finding a way into the city despite the gate keepers whose methods of choice have been lately and for too long, shutting us out. Substack is just such a tunnel under the walls, and the joy of emerging, and finding such talent there as you, as Mary, Adam, Deirdre Lewis and Tina Rowley to name but a few, skipping about in the sunshine has been the joy of this year. It has completely revolutionised my experience of this writing life. Vive la revolution!
🙌🏻❤️💃
Look at you, saving the best for last and giving us great wisdom as you're rushing out the door. I mean, that closing line is just golden. Thank you for these gifts each day.
Thanks Troy 😊❤️
I have not read this entire series, but every post I do read offers up some naked, undeniable truth that is beautifully wrought. There's such an immediacy to it. Thank you for sharing your life so courageously.