Maria Dahvana Headley
@mariadahvana
NYT-bestselling, Hugo Award winning monster and myth maker. Most recently, VERGIL! A Mythological Musical (Audible) , Beowulf: A New Translation, The Mere Wife, & many other items in the wondertale category & beyond.
Okay, I fixed my DM settings! Sorry about that! It was set to no one. Here are a few of the illustrations from the book, and the bookplate.
Some items from my mom's estate are in my possession to be sold - & I thought I'd offer them up to people I know who like gorgeous things! I'm likely going to list them somewhere if I don't sell them myself. 1) a 1st edition The Ship That Sailed to Mars (1923), in great shape. DM if you want info.
Arrived back to Grimmy, who is ecstatic over his "heirlooms" - paintings my mom did, tiny glass animals, a little furry tiger wearing her name bracelet from 75 years ago. "Gifts from my Amma" he told his cousins. She is dead, but still giving him presents.❤️
Some photos from my western wanderings to work on my mom's estate. As ever, I travel by pie cartography - pictured, cherry and boysenberry from Idaho Joe's cafe in Twin Falls Idaho. Also an Idaho Highway, a Utah sunset, & the sign for Marsing, which has on it a painting by my mom.
My name's been on some bathroom walls before, but never quite like this, THE MOST GLORIOUS BATHROOM BEOWULF WALL, at Oldspeak Bar in Garden City, Idaho, which is also the coolest place ever. Bookstore + brewery, and full of glory!
Also here, hundreds of paintings, oil, acrylic, watercolor, ink, 70 years of art. Here are two tiny ones, one on a burl, one on a seashell.
Cleaning out the vegetable bin for some travel, and I managed to make a nice container of celery cucumber ginger peppercorn shrub, which I mixed into a mezcal cocktail. Celery shrub is delicious! Inspired by this recipe from Food & Wine.
Why am I the kind of person whose "hobbies" require a centrifuge? Yes, there are other ways to filter amaro for clarity, but I am a perfectionist, and thus I'm forced to resort to Chemex, which is slow. Not as slow as some of the other methods I've tried, though.
In this ridiculous timeline of AI muck flooding everything (lemme tell you, I teach writing, & whenever I get one, I know), I recommend that you make something with your brain & hands, & support other people doing the same. My current project is green herb liqueur, aka Chartreuse.
I get better recs, I feel. A selection of recent algorithmic recommends. Prior to this, it was all shapewear and face camouflaging creams.
It's my last class on old stories and new storytellers in Chicago today, and to honor the commute I wore an outfit that can only be described as flight attendant for an imaginary airline, partially 1970s, partially mythical kingdom.
Today in monkish pursuits, the nearly finished (I still need to clarify the amaro) rhubarb blood orange star anise and a million other ingredients amaro, and ruby grapefruit figleaf aperitif.
Trying to figure out what I should wear to my daughter's wedding next month, and nothing is jumping out at me. That said, this dress is being advertised to me everywhere, which is unsurprising for my general aesthetic. A bit too sea witch though, I fear.
Started reading Grimoire an imaginary being from Jorge Luis Borges every day, and I recommend it. It's possible to read an imaginary being to your 6 year old while stirring pasta sauce, or making chicken nuggets, for example.
Walking through the airport, as I always am lately. One of these signs at the Korean Air desks reads "morning calm" while the rest read "bag drop." I stood here a minute, wondering how this happened, and wishing that morning calm was an option for me.
If you're bored and in Chicago (well, Oak Park/river Forest) tonight, come see me talk about old stories and why they're crucial to rhe survival of humans - or at least, why they really matter. Also I'm in a good dress. www.dom.edu/arts-minds/u...
Just finished pouring my strained amaro into my mini oak barrel for aging. Nothing has ever been so satisfying. I write books. They're slow. Amaro isn't as slow as books are. I've learned a lot about monks & inner peace over the course of this. Pictured, amaro March 3 vs. April 7, & mini-barrel.
Just me with an obelisk in the rain, in Istanbul. (It's beyond glorious here. We had a layover, and now I want much more time.)
This morning at TSA in Raleigh, none of the possible dreadful things but a ridiculous one: "Is it a gun, or is it a...unicorn." One TSA agent, digging around in my xray tray, to another, who'd already had a meltdown about its possible identity, seen in silhouette.
And this swimsuit has this incredible purple fig print, so I couldn't stand to let it stay among the unworn.
Update on my amaro project. This is a week into steeping, and it tastes kind of great? By the dropperful anyway - it hasn't been sweetened/diluted yet, beyond the inherent dilution of the rhubarb and the blood orange peels. I'm considering purchasing a little oaken barrel for it to rest in soon.
Current mental health project is an ancient one. Times of horrible since ever, people have steeped bitter herbs in booze. This is a rhubarb-based amaro, coming along. It has both rhubarb root & fresh rhubarb, citrus peel, gentian, star anise, vanilla, pink peppercorns, buncha other things.
My feed on various social media places is now jam-packed with GPT generated ad-stories about "quiet, dignified death" and it's making me puke. So terrible, the writing, the click baiting, the whole thing, and it's all because I posted about my mom's death, so it's even more maddening.
Adriane Louise Moulton Headley. October 27, 1950 to February 7, 2026. I was along for 48 years of the adventure that was my mom, and though sometimes we found ourselves lost in the dark woods, both literally and figuratively, there were many joyful times.
Everything all at once: my mom started hospice. It became a frozen in zone where i live, so I'm staying in town this week instead of traveling to Chicago where I'm teaching, or Seattle, where my mom is. The world is very 🤬. But I did make hot buttered Negronis for my neighborhood.
Just got to my personal email, a ChatGPT series of emails asking me to appear at a bookclub called the SF Book & Social Club, which culminated in this extra scammy one asking me to pay $100 to visit. This came in under the name of a real publicity person at Simon & Schuster, so it's extra fake!
Ain't nothing like a 6am flight to Chicago to go to my guest professor duties. The flight attendant said "you are bright!" And I said "I have to be, or I'd be asleep."