Journaler's Routine No. 3: Liana Finck
"Putting my point of view on paper helps me get past whatever the sticking point is."
Welcome to the third installment of the Journaler’s Routine—a summer series we’re doing with Random House where I ask contributors from The Book of Alchemy to share their private creative rituals.
Just a few days ago, I joined Anand Giridharadas and Leigh Haber on The Ink to talk about how journaling not only transformed my writing—but also saved my life. (They picked The Book of Alchemy for their book club!) At one point during the conversation, someone in the chat wrote:
“I really don’t like writing at all—what’s your secret?”
Here’s mine: What I’ve always loved about the journal—it’s so capacious. It defies genre. It can be lists or sentence fragments. A hastily drawn worm. A dream about a raccoon who gave you advice. A single sentence that just says “why.” It can be a recipe notebook, a log of all the books you’ve read and the lines that moved you, a place to write letters you’ll never send to ghosts from your past. There is no wrong way to do it. That is the secret: the journal becomes whatever weird and necessary thing you need it to be.
Today’s featured guest is a perfect example of someone who embodies that expansive spirit: the brilliant cartoonist, illustrator, and writer
. Liana doesn’t keep a journal in the traditional sense—but without question, she uses pen and paper to puzzle through the wild ride of being human, in all its hilarity, poignancy, absurdity, and beauty.So without further ado, Liana’s routine—
What does your journaling routine look like at its most gratifying?
I don’t keep a journal, except when things are really bad. I do draw little autobiographical things all day, so I’ll tell you about that. Whenever there’s something I’m trying to figure out—a misunderstanding with another person, a social norm that strikes me as wrong—I’ll try to crystallize it into a compact idea drawing. Putting my point of view on paper and seeing it as valid weirdly helps me get past whatever the sticking point is.
When did you start?
I’ve always drawn compulsively. It became therapy when I was in my early teens and got sad and lonely. Now it’s some mixture of just needing to make things—like I️ did when I️ was little—and needing to figure things out—like I’ve done as an adult. Back before I️ had kids, I️ used to go to a café every morning—not to force myself to draw but to protect myself from all the things that tried to get my attention and keep me from drawing. Emails, chores, friends. Now those little things (kids, dog, dishwasher) are my life, so no more café. I don’t draw as much anymore (I️’m on a family vacation this week, to cap off the end of a four-month, self-imposed—and unpaid—maternity leave), not because I don’t feel the need but because life comes first right now. It’s been a moment of missing drawing, mixed with pride that I️ can stop for a bit without imploding. I️ wonder what my drawings will be like when I️ come back. Of course, I️ still draw, just much less, and less legibly.
What’s your favorite journal and writing utensil?
Staples bright white printer paper, which I️ keep in the empty shell of a 9x12 pad of Bristol paper, and a .38 Muji pen or a .4 Pentel Arts Hybrid Technica.
Is consistency important to you?
I’ve had a big shake-up these last few years. Had a kid at the tail end of the pandemic, and another this year. So while consistency is important to me, it’s also in some ways impossible. I have no idea if my drawings are still any good. I️ guess I️ always felt that way. For someone who lives by routine, I️ have surprisingly little memory of who I️ am or what I️ do.
Today’s Contributor—
is a cartoonist, illustrator and regular contributor to the New Yorker where she also wrote the “Dear Pepper” advice-from-a-dog column. As the author of eight books, her work also frequently appears in The New York Times, The Atlantic, The Wall Street Journal, New York Magazine and more. She is the recipient of Fulbright, Guggenheim and New York Foundation for the Arts Fellowships. In reference to requests about her cartoons, it says, “You may tattoo for free.”And don’t forget to check out Liana’s essay and prompt in The Book of Alchemy. It’s called “Guilty Until Proven Innocent” and it’s one of my favorites. It features my most beloved creature: a dog. And my most feared: take a guess.
Today I saw three angels in my mind helping a wet butterfly. It's raining in New Orleans. The angels are busy today.
My journal today is wet and the topic is Angels and Butterflies, which I used to call flutter bys whien I was a child. I checked the etymology of butterfly. I learn something new every day. This is so much fun. Let's all watch the butterflies flutter by even if they are wet while we ponder the age old question: Is a picture worth a thousand words? Sometimes.
Ahhh...the "I feel like doo doo on a pungy stick" journal entry. Some of (what I consider to be) my best "stuff" has come at those moments. It was so fun to note the completly different styles of you Suleika and of Liana in terms of journaling. I have a tendency to write on scraps of paper, sticky notes that are sticking to nothing and it brings me joy when I find them, shoved in a book, in a stack of papers that long ago needed to be filed etc...I think of them as my Leaflets of Love, scattered where ever the wind has taken them (which is actually just me, as the wind).