Terry Gross Wants to Interview Me! and Other Things AI Made UpDeleting Apps, Forgetting Willpower, & Finding What is Real in a Faux World
Hi friend, If you’re a writer, you’ve probably received a slew of these AI emails where someone wants you for their book group, their podcast, to give a keynote speech, wants to share your book with their important community, and so on. So I wasn’t exactly surprised to open my inbox today and learn that Terry Gross from NPR wanted to interview me about Accidental Devotions. My first thought was: What?! Maybe all the famous people are busy. My second thought was: This is fake. Of course, it wasn’t Terry Gross, just some weird little bot that knows how to play to your ego with words like “luminous” and phrases like “What makes the book especially compelling is the way it balances humor and existential seriousness.” I mean, the bot does get me and my book, but dude, stay out of my inbox. . . I kind of hate living in a world where I can’t tell what’s real anymore. I feel like I’m suspicious of everything, texting my 25-year-old a cute animal photo, “Please say this is real?” It’s AI, mom. Damn! Tricked again! It’s made me think about the last time I was less connected online but still got some of the benefits of the online world, maybe the last time I had the internet, but the internet didn’t have me. I think it was the ’90s, when I had a computer, but it had its own room: the second bedroom in my first home, “the computer room.” I’m beginning to think computer rooms should make a comeback. So I started thinking about my relationship to devices, which is a big theme in Accidental Devotions: how the things we keep reaching for can quietly (and unintentionally) become the things we worship. Then I bumped into this photo from 2022, and it really hit me. Look at everyone holding up their phones, watching a real experience through a screen, except this guy: I immediately thought—I want to be the guy with the beer. Okay, except without beer because I hate beer, but you get the idea. I want to be the me that used to watch things without having to document them or hold a phone just “in case.” I may have mentioned that I have a love/hate relationship with my phone, mostly because I know myself around digital things. I was the teenager who could burn through her entire allowance in quarters at Seattle’s Space Port, feeding video games quarters like they were glowing hungry gods (they were!) So my iPhone ends up being a fun little toy. And yes, social media feels like a game: How many “Likes” did this get? What happens if I post this cat photo instead of that one? Why did that post take off while this one died quietly in a field? And then, before I know it, I’m not enjoying the interaction—I’m checking the score. And the kicker is as a Capricorn—I hate wasting time, so when I look up and see I was scrolling on my phone for 30 minutes, I am not pleased with my use of my one wild and precious life—to quote Mary Oliver. Also, I hate using an iPad. I know some people love their iPads, but I feel like I’m typing on a giant Speak & Spell from the ’80s: Second, I bought this off of Etsy, it’s a phone holder (I know—clever, right?) to put near the front door so when I come home, my phone has a place to go that’s not my hand. (Oh and you can mount it on the wall too.) Basically, I want my phone to be a phone again. Not a camera, a wallet, a TV, a portal, a tiny container of bad-news-Russian-roulette-style, or a dumb little rectangle I stare into whenever I feel any moment of boredom. I want to go back to Me 1.0, before the upgrade with devices and apps. I guess I want to be easier to reach as a person and harder to reach as a consumer. I want to pull out a book on the ferry instead of my phone. I want to go back to the version of myself who could stand in line and observe the world around her, not have to summon a tiny imitation of life in her hand—sorry, iPhone, you do have some great usefulness, but I’m getting lost in your endless hallway of tiny doors with all those shiny doorknobs. So far (and it hasn’t been long with this new practice), I’m already seeing myself become less impatient. And to be fine with being well, bored. What a gift, my mind is daydreaming, looking at all the details around me, noticing things (remember when I noticed things!) It reminds me of something I felt in New Orleans—people seemed more willing to wait and let the day take its good ol’ sweet old time (there’s a reason they call it the Big Easy). Oh, and I also cleaned out my closet—something I said I didn’t have time for. I’ve also learned that willpower is way overrated, especially when you’re tired, overwhelmed, or simply a human person living in 2026. What works better for me is making my bad habits slightly more inconvenient—give me a bit of an obstacle and it seems I may actually choose my whole real life, already in progress. Anyway, if you’re thinking about your own habits, phone or otherwise, my best suggestion is this: don’t rely on becoming a better version of yourself, just make the thing you’re trying not to touch, eat, drink, scroll, buy, or do a little harder to get to. Put the “thing” in another room, delete the app, block the website, move the Biscoff cookies to a high shelf (okay, this is a dumb example as I know I’d just get a little chair to get the cookies—let’s make this don’t buy the cookies!) It’s amazing how quickly the body will go looking for something easier. Like reading a book or staring out the window. Or in a truly shocking turn of events—writing a poem! π Reader, it’s happened! A Few Small Devotions for You:
So thanks for reading and hope you walk out into the world finding the minor miracles happening in your part of the world. xo kells πWhere to find me: Facebook, Instagram, Watching: What About Bob “Babysteps to the elevator.” This post is public—feel free to share it with a friend, another poet, or any devoted reader. π Thanks for reading Postcards from a Poet, a joyfully unpredictable newsletter with surprisingly good timing and that will always be free. ⭐ It’s not too late to order Accidental Devotions from The Poetry Shop: www.tinyurl.com/OrderAccidentalDevotions ⭐ or Seattle’s Open Books: www.tinyurl.com/AccidentalDevotions (signed copies available!) Also—Bookshop.org: https://tinyurl.com/AccidentalDevotionsBookshopOrg or Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/AccidentalDevotionsAmazon
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Visual Gratitude Journal
An online journal of images that make me smile, think, wonder, or just be thankful...
Tuesday, May 26, 2026
Terry Gross Wants to Interview Me! and Other Things AI Made Up
Wednesday, May 13, 2026
Live video with Kelli Russell Agodon and Darien Gee now: What You’re Afraid to Say: Prose Poems & Personal Narrative
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Friday, May 8, 2026
Do You Ever Wake Up and Feel You Should Be Happy?
Do You Ever Wake Up and Feel You Should Be Happy?Thoughts on Stargazer Lilies, Melancholy, Supertramp's "Goodbye Stranger"
Hi Friend, So here’s something I’ve wondering—do you ever wake up and feel you should be happy, but melancholy feels like a heavy blanket someone keeps putting on your shoulders? That’s how I’ve been feeling lately, besides all the beauty around me—I’m thinking springtime birds, cherry blossoms in bloom, sunshine, so much we decided to skip going into the Two Sylvias Press office this week and instead are working from home. But to look at one’s life and feel SO grateful and thankful for all you have, but then also kind of sad. I’ve carried this feeling a lot throughout my life (it’s come and gone and returned) and I know with the state of our country, things are feeling a bit harder everywhere. So there’s that. . .unfortunately. (Also, promoting a book at that time feels beyond ridiculous.) I’ve found planting stargazer lilies feels hopeful. I’m learning how much of my hope is tied to plants, maybe because they are a quiet insistence that something is growing despite our human world. Maybe it’s the agreement a seed makes with the future—possibility, it whispers. Last week I met with two good friends and one said she believes things will get better, but first they have to break open before they can be repaired. And I’m like, Great, love that for us—but is there an express lane to the healing part? I’m so impatient these days and just like with movies, I want to fast forward past the bad/scary parts. But time, right? We have to day-by-day it with our fingers crossed and hope in our back pocket. How are you getting by these days? I hope you’re finding ways to get through things. I just read forest walks are good for anxiety, but I’m guessing if you’ve ever walked in a forest (without being lost), you know that already. π So yes, I’m finding scattered joy all around me—burgers & bingo with neighbors, a brunch in an old Victorian building, walking through downtown Seattle to my favorite bookstore, Open Books. But it’s like my emotions are birds—look at all that happiness fluttering around me, but nothing seems to land. Still, I keep leaving the windows open for hope—one of these days I have to trust that something will stay long enough to build a nest. Hope is the thing with feathers…as dear Emily Dickinson wrote. Good Things:
Oh, and this happened in February with the moon, Jupiter, and Venus, so maybe the universe IS smiling back at us: Thanks for reading, helping strangers, moonwatching, and just being you. Sending love in stupid times, P.S. Thank you for all who preordered from Open Books! It was so much fun signing your books! π πWhere to find me: Facebook, Instagram, Listening to Goodbye Stranger This post is public—feel free to share it with a friend, another poet, or any devoted reader. π Thanks for reading Postcards from a Poet, a joyfully unpredictable newsletter with surprisingly good timing and that will always be free. ⭐ Order Accidental Devotions from The Poetry Shop: www.tinyurl.com/OrderAccidentalDevotions ⭐ order from Seattle’s Open Books: www.tinyurl.com/AccidentalDevotions Bookshop.org: https://tinyurl.com/AccidentalDevotionsBookshopOrg or Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/AccidentalDevotionsAmazon
© 2026 Kelli Russell Agodon |
















