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Half-fictions. Half-fictions. Half-fictions. I call it my first book, even though I’ve filled dozens of blank books throughout my life. These scans are from pages made in the midst of writing and collecting ideas for the book.
Poem made from words found in a press release I took (oops) from Bel Ami gallery in LA.
The idea of the “book” started in May 2025, loosely around the end of undergrad. It started in Google Docs and moved to InDesign, living in the Creative Cloud.
One of many mind maps, this one made in a Safelite getting my windshield replaced.
First drafts would read awkward and weepy; focused on the wrong things. I’d write from emotional places, usually late at night. 99% of the process was EDITING, which I love. I think of it like painting, which I do very slowly and in short bursts. The longer it goes on, the more exciting it becomes, and the less I want to do anything else. The best was when I’d step away to sleep, and could return with a fresh set of eyes. Re-living the moments in the writing gave me hits of dopamine like nothing else. I could have gone on editing forever, so that the text became unrecognizable.
RISD, RISD. 16?
In college, I edited a student publication, and never missed anything. I found joy in noticing small things, and even more by whittling down paragraphs into poetry.
Musings and ephemera found during the first week of my first full time job after school, doing furniture and lighting inventory. I mention this job in the book multiple times.
Entering the real world has been hard. How does anyone know what to do?
The grammatical error of the dangling modifier was introduced to me by my writing and editing mentor from college, Jen.
There are many references in the text, specifically to Leanne Shapton’s Swimming Studies, George Oppen’s Of Being Numerous, snuggle’s song “Marigold,” Susan Sontag’s As Consciousness Is Harnessed To Flesh, Richard Linklater’s movie “Waking Life,” and Brad Kessler’s Goat Song. There’s a reference poem about the banality of references. But obviously, I find them important.
I think about how I might glaze over something ten times before it hits, and then it hits how it should. I think about the ecstasy of recognizing someone else’s reference.
Mental scribble in the midst of writing a book … what’ll my next one be about? + Jenny Holzer’s truisms appearing again and again.
It felt difficult to WRITE. It seemed artists/writers like Jenny Holzer had a much firmer grasp on speaking in absolutes. But eventually, after a year of rearranging, the book is done. Besides the three typos in it … I am just a human, after all.
Spread made on a flight to LA, using ripped fragments of a NYT paper I saw in the flight attendant’s trash. I asked if I could have it, even with the stains from whatever beverages ended up in the trash. I annoyed the people next to me gently ripping the paper for at least a half hour.
I titled it Half-fictions because many of the stories are true, but with some details changed. I was conscious of audience—how real could I be about my rebellion, my lawless behavior? How I like to party, how sexuality finds its way, how I think too much about everything—my anxieties, my suffering, my privileges, all raw and confusing, transmuted into half-fictions.
In the mystery, I find respite. Regardless, after reading, you may still think something about me, and that might be the whole point. So thank you for the challenge of being read.
This has been the first edition of my newsletter, “Messenger of God.” The title translates from the meaning of my name, Angelina. It won’t be an overtly religious newsletter, but God will appear, as He often does.
To see more of my work (painting, writing, performance, etc.) visit https://www.angelinarodgers.com/