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DW McKinney

author, interviewer

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Who got Volunteer of the Year after only volunteering for six months? That's right. Me, baby! After I crept into the nursery and scared the 💩 out of the Old Dudes, they turned around and gave me this gardening kit full of sharp things, fixing things, and cleaning things. There's one more thing coming but now that I've scared them, they're debating giving me a grenade. I love these guys.
My last column of the year is ready for you @cnmnmag (and link in bio). I close out 2021 talking about two graphic novels in Walter Scott's Wendy series, which follows a messy 20-something artist who is struggling to define herself and her art.
New sketches in my gardening almanac. Beans, lettuce, snow peas. I work better with colored pencils than markers but I'm enjoying both. Also enjoying the fact that I have spent two hours just sketching, coloring, and sitting. Blissful rest.
My copy of The Elpis Pages: A Collective arrived this evening. Flipped it open and it fell right to my absurdist short story, Trophies. Very proud of this story and the writing process that shaped it. Thanks to @theelpispages for publishing it and to Kayla King who did a fabulous job weaving all the poems, essays, and stories into a beautiful, cohesive collection. If you want to buy a copy, click the link in my bio. Proceeds will be donated to Planned Parenthood.
Went to the park with the family a few days ago and I couldn't stop staring at this red chair in a tree. My youngest didn't believe that there was a chair in a tree until I pointed it out. "I've never seen that before," she said. Part of me immediately wanted to comment on the strangeness of it being there, but a greater part of me settled on the "rightness" of it being there. I thought of all the ways the chair landed where it's not supposed to be. A wind storm, a person, a weird string of events. But now it's in a tree, telling me a story. Now it's art. Now it's drawing my eye upward inside of down at my feet. I'm kinda feeling like that chair. Out of place but in the right place.
My bush beans are bean-ing and my lettuces (Little Gem Romaine and Tom Thumb) are lettuce-ing. Watering my garden today brought me a little joy that I thought I'd share before I head off this app for a little bit. Been carrying a lot of heartache this season that has been compounding for various reasons, but because of grief in particular. I just need to make my headspace a bit more quiet. Love y'all for real.

Recent posts

  • On the Mountaintop
  • On balancing isolation and community
  • On my residency in Tennessee.
  • On Not Throwing It All Away*
  • On Accepting Rejection
Who got Volunteer of the Year after only volunteering for six months? That's right. Me, baby! After I crept into the nursery and scared the 💩 out of the Old Dudes, they turned around and gave me this gardening kit full of sharp things, fixing things, and cleaning things. There's one more thing coming but now that I've scared them, they're debating giving me a grenade. I love these guys. My last column of the year is ready for you @cnmnmag (and link in bio). I close out 2021 talking about two graphic novels in Walter Scott's Wendy series, which follows a messy 20-something artist who is struggling to define herself and her art. New sketches in my gardening almanac. Beans, lettuce, snow peas. I work better with colored pencils than markers but I'm enjoying both. Also enjoying the fact that I have spent two hours just sketching, coloring, and sitting. Blissful rest. My copy of The Elpis Pages: A Collective arrived this evening. Flipped it open and it fell right to my absurdist short story, Trophies. Very proud of this story and the writing process that shaped it. Thanks to @theelpispages for publishing it and to Kayla King who did a fabulous job weaving all the poems, essays, and stories into a beautiful, cohesive collection. If you want to buy a copy, click the link in my bio. Proceeds will be donated to Planned Parenthood. Went to the park with the family a few days ago and I couldn't stop staring at this red chair in a tree. My youngest didn't believe that there was a chair in a tree until I pointed it out. "I've never seen that before," she said. Part of me immediately wanted to comment on the strangeness of it being there, but a greater part of me settled on the "rightness" of it being there. I thought of all the ways the chair landed where it's not supposed to be. A wind storm, a person, a weird string of events. But now it's in a tree, telling me a story. Now it's art. Now it's drawing my eye upward inside of down at my feet. I'm kinda feeling like that chair. Out of place but in the right place. My bush beans are bean-ing and my lettuces (Little Gem Romaine and Tom Thumb) are lettuce-ing. Watering my garden today brought me a little joy that I thought I'd share before I head off this app for a little bit. Been carrying a lot of heartache this season that has been compounding for various reasons, but because of grief in particular. I just need to make my headspace a bit more quiet. Love y'all for real. For today. Today was a good day at the nursery. It's pretty empty. (Last week, I had the pleasure of loading up 600-ish (out of 1,100) plants that I planted, watered, and weeded, and sent them on their way to the Southern Nevada Water District.) Today was just minor maintenance in the cool weather as we prepare to begin sowing again. Went to a pumpkin patch and orchard this weekend. It was horribly crowded. But I took a moment to wander off in the rows, remove my mask, and breathe in some fresh air between the apple trees.
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