In a folder among many folders sorted by themes that interest me, there is a small strip of folded brown tissue paper that I found discretely tucked behind the classifieds on a coffee shop bulletin board. It reads: “NYC FIRST DAY” along with the date and, when opened, “climbed a tree and watched some dogs.” I have great envy for this ephemeral slip, along with many other textual and visual scraps stuffed in physical and digital folders of ineffable art that is not mine but I wish was. I never get stuck on what to write about because I only begin a new nonfiction project after years of jamming a folder with like thoughts until bulk and structure seem inevitable. But I often get stuck on how to write stylistically. As I work on a manuscript, I keep one folder of writings that resonate with my project (often full-length books), and one folder of mood imagery for the nontextual aspects that will hybridize my final vision. When I am stuck, I return to these folders until envy thrusts me back to making, their luster still lingering on my fingertips so that my words pass through theirs as I type.
—Tree Abraham, author of elseship: an unrequited affair
(Soft Skull, 2025)