rambles and half-essays

by KM Brunner

  • i had an awful month

    KM Brunner

    I am not going to give a rundown of my month; you don’t deserve the frustration and I’m not interested in baring my personal life for folks to read. I’m no one’s friend here, and it wasn’t particularly interesting anyway. It was just…hard.

    Because I’m chronically ill, I forget what it’s like to experience violence from something outside my body. My day-to-day life is a minefield of managing a disorder that, when triggered, provides me with heaps of trauma that I then have to wade through. I spend months – sometimes years – working through my fear while still living in the body that is responsible for that trauma (and threatening to inflict more).

    It is not a fun place, my body – my brain, specifically. But there’s nothing for it except for suicide and I’d like to at least enjoy my thirties. Forties, too, if I get those years.

    Vigilance and violence are part of my life. They are part of my mornings, afternoons, evenings. They are part of my writing practice. I think about them when I cry, because the action is not entirely controllable. I think about them when I laugh.

    But this month was difficult because of an external force and it felt like a privilege to experience that. It was a perverse feeling and made me feel bad, like I was invalidating other people’s terrifying experiences with abuse, and yet I found it comforting in some ways. It gave me something to fear that didn’t come from me.

    I could lock the door. Separate myself from her. God, what a luxury that was.

    The month is over and the danger is gone. My apartment feels like my own again. I’m back with just me and my brain. I am glad for it because weathering that danger was exhausting, but there was something to knowing she couldn’t hurt me when I was staying with a friend, across town, that was soothing.

    Chronic illness is such a strange thing. The filter through which I see the world makes it difficult to relate to other people, and my relationship with fear and pain is very warped. I am a great listener and like to help folks with their problems, but I often find myself holding back when talking to friends, because their problems are so, so bearable to me. I’d love to have their problems, and only those problems.

    I’m going to stop with this self-pity and move on to my little recommendations section.

    Music: Delirium Division, Little Pink Houses. It’s a rock song. I just really love it. It’s been on repeat for me.

    Stuff:

    1. Comic: Vinyl by Image Comics. It’s about a serial killer with Alzheimer’s who is emotionally attached to his FBI agent. He saves him from a murderous cult. It’s very, very cool.
    2. Been wearing my half-rimless glasses. I like them but they make me look like a librarian. I’ve decided I don’t care.
    3. I’m going up to Marblehead on Saturday to drive around. It’s where part of my novel is set.

  • my hope lives in picture books

    KM Brunner

    Yesterday, I stopped in a bookshop/cafe I often visit and ate my regular croissant. Afterward, I decided to take a look at the children’s books because I have some young cousins who are growing up in a rural area and I worry for them. I found some amazing pieces, a few of which made me cry in public. Embarrassing.

    I’ve been going through a tough time and for some reason, these books struck me pretty profoundly. It was confusing until I thought it through. But regardless, I’m here to tell you about a few of them:

    The Last Stardog by E.K. Mosley

    This piece is about finding family, feeling alone, and hope. Though the story is amazing, the art is just as impactful. It’s about a creature called a stardog, who lives in the stars. He falls out of the sky and meets some friends. I am not going to spoil it for you; you have to read the thing. It’s beautiful.

    Molly’s Tuxedo by Vicki Johnson

    I was a kid who felt very alone. I felt uncomfortable in my clothes and didn’t always see my own face when I looked in the mirror. Seeing that experience in a picture book took me by surprise and I couldn’t read the whole thing in the shop. I just bought it and then sobbed after reading it at home.

    It really healed something in me that I didn’t know was broken. Molly is given a choice what she wants to wear on picture day: a dress or her brother’s tuxedo.

    This one was a recommendation from one of the employees who I’m CERTAIN was out for blood. Molly’s got red hair just like me.

    The Boy with the Big, Big Feelings by Britney Winn Lee

    One of my younger cousins is a little boy who has a lot of anxiety. He’s shy and afraid sometimes. I used to be, too. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be his mom; the kid’s different from the others and children can be so cruel. This book shows that boys can have big feelings, and that’s okay. I want my little cousin to grow up knowing that emotions are not a weakness and this book addresses that directly.

    Then of course they sent me home with My Shadow is Pink because I need it for my library. A lot of queer folks have books like that on hand, just in case they meet a kid who needs to know that they’re not wrong for feeling like they do.

    I spent a lot of money but I don’t mind at all. The books were all so beautiful and I felt privileged to be able to read them, honestly. Though a lot of things are happening in the world that are horrific and discouraging, books like these tell me that in some ways, we are still progressing.

  • the Church is haunting me while I’m asleep

    KM Brunner

    I said a few weeks ago that I was not going to stop at one post about spirituality, so here is the second.

    I am being haunted by Catholicism in my sleep. They aren’t bad dreams, but they’re confusing and when I wake up, they frighten me a little. I try very hard not to lean into delusion. Some days I consume weird Catholic content and so I dream about it. I have an aunt who is a nun, some priest friends, and so I dream about the clergy. Easy-peasy-resting-easy.

    That said, there are things in my life that I can’t explain. My easy fix: simply don’t think about them.

    I don’t believe in the Church. I think the institution is rather rotten and I’m not interested in the Bible as a historical document. It comes across as metaphor to me, and so I treat it that way. All the lessons still read the same – and I don’t even have to lie to myself.

    Now if everyone else got on board…

    That’s a little unfair, I know. I’m sure there are people who actually believe in the story. In the resurrection of the dead, the life of the world to come…

    What if Jesus’s resurrection in the Bible is an allegory for the resurrection of his teachings? Same takeaway, no delusion, and honestly? Better writing.

    So I don’t think I can call myself a Catholic. I also don’t consider the Bible my end-all-be-all of spiritual texts. I’m interested in the Tao, I’m interested in meditation, the Bhagavad Vita, etc. They are all in conversation with one another anyway, and who am I to ignore that? Who am I to dismiss all that tradition? Ridiculous.

    But then there are the dreams, you see. That is why they’re frightening. When I’m awake, Christianity is just a pretty story. While I sleep, I’m…

    In the last one I was a nun. I was happy, too. Happy and cloistered and spiritually fulfilled. I was smiling at my sisters and wearing a habit and the abbey was warm in the morning sun. I woke up upset.

    ‘Cause that’s completely out of my reach. If I were to pursue being a nun, I would hate it. I would 100% despise it. I wouldn’t be able to stay true to my spiritual vows. I think the frustration would get to me, and eventually I’d say something about it. Something like:

    “Why can’t I be a priest?”

    I think about that a lot. Some women are priests. I’m not like that, though. I’m nowhere near positive enough to try to forge a path for women in the Church. Those people are strong in a way that I find intimidating. I’d envy them if their road didn’t seem so fraught.

    I suppose my big problem is that I don’t want to be a priest unless I get the weight of tradition along with it. But I don’t want to be a man and don’t think I could fake it well enough to get through seminary.

    And so I learn about Catholicism and I think about the saints and I worry about spiritual psychosis and the young people who were victimized because of it. I go to classes and fantasize about being one of the original monks who just…walked into the desert.

    I sometimes go to church. When I do, I feel that secret-sacred tether that reminds me that there’s more to those dreams than just the jumbled remnants of my day. Then I leave and try to convince myself that feeling is just the product of a beautiful service.

    I am trying my best.

    I don’t like the idea of being religious and I’m not. I’m curious and stubborn and desperate to prove to myself that I can dismiss those moments as chemical. Something tangible.

    ///

    Though it feels inappropriate, I’m still going to include recommendations!

    Music: Misere mei, Deus – Tenebrae (on theme!)

    Actual fun stuff:

    Comic: Beneath the Trees Where Nobody Sees is complete! The whole series was wild but it ended in a nice place.

    • Finally getting back to writing. I write on a Remarkable tablet. They’re like a Kindle with a word processing function. I can’t do the computer all the time so it’s fabulous.
    • I love this podcast about CNF (the podcast is hosted by the guy whose website this is): https://brendanomeara.com/

  • change, distraction, and worry

    KM Brunner

    I have a problem. It’s not a big problem, but it is one that’s taking up a lot of space in my brain:

    I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be writing.

    I worry, probably several times a day, that there’s something missing from the novel I’m working on. I think, unhelpfully, that I should be pursuing one of my other projects. I think maybe, just maybe, I should be writing nonfiction. I used to write nonfiction. I was rather good at it.

    It wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as fiction, but it was something I felt comfortable with.

    Then I step back and think: that was the problem with nonfiction in the first place. I wasn’t challenging myself.

    And so I go back to the book and the short stories but then, there, I have the same problem:

    I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be writing.

    It’s a fun thing, to have lots of ideas. It’s an enviable position, but I need to focus – and if I’m going to use the ideas, I need to whittle. I am trying to concentrate on the novel, but I want to submit a story once a month, so I always have a short piece I’m working on alongside the book. Sometimes that piece is fun. Sometimes I think it might be better than the novel.

    How can I know that, though? I can’t! I absolutely can’t. I’m a few chapters into a first draft and those are notoriously bad! Regardless, I’m hitting a pretty significant rough patch. Things are working, mostly, but I’m concerned about a few characters, I worry I’ve made the story too big, that the plot is too niche to be relatable – and worst of all, sometimes I think it might be boring.

    Is this what impostor syndrome is? I’m not worried about being a writer – I feel paralyzed because I am one.

    It’s enough to make me want to scream but I can’t give up writing. I know I’ll work through it. I’ll show up, every day, at my stupid little keyboard. Writing is an awful, sometimes parasitic, thing. It compels. It’s worse than music, and that’s saying something.

    Anyway.

    Here are some things I’ve liked over last month:

    • Song: Good Luck, Babe! – Chappell Roan. She’s blowing up, and she deserves it. Vocal chops like nobody’s business and actual musical, catchy, pop. They use real instruments and the mixing isn’t all flat like most pop these days. It’s just…good music.
    • I don’t drink, but when I’m craving a beer, I reach for an Athletic. I’m into the Hazy IPA lately.
    • I got a noir piece published. It’s called Apartment 11A.
    • I found my writing workshop group on Meetup. I’d recommend it!
    • St. John’s Seminary, the seminary attached to Boston College, is full of nice people and very, very interesting classes. I’m going to take Moral Theology next semester. I never thought I’d be taking a course with Catholic undertones but here I am. I’m just interested.

  • submitting and rejection

    KM Brunner

    I got my first rejection in years – not because I’m particularly good, but because I haven’t submitted in a long time. And forgot how it felt. I care again.

    Why do I care again? I can do music live in front of hundreds of people and not give a shit, but I God forbid I get a rejection for a couple pieces of flash fiction. It was the nicest rejection email of all time, honestly, but it’s got my feathers ruffled.

    It’s extremely hard to ruffle my feathers. That’s probably why I’m writing about it. I’m also writing about it because I’m starting to understand that it’s pretty brave not only to submit pieces, but to write about failures. Lots of authors write about their rejections, and because I always likened it to playing a bad set, I’d (ungenerously) think, “Just try again. Not a big deal.”

    But it’s not like a set, is it? The writing remains. You’ve still got the product, even after the rejection hits your inbox. It makes the piece feel like a limp, dead thing. Roadkill in the palm.

    You ever scrape up roadkill?

    And those pieces – I knew they weren’t great. I don’t know if even I would publish them, if I were an editor. Maybe I’ll put them up here once I can’t feel the sting. Where else are they gonna go?

    This would be much more painful if I submitted something I love.

    I know I’ll climb out of this funk by midday, go eat some noodles, and do my work, but for a moment I need to sit with my coffee and brood. So that’s what I’ll do, I guess.

    There’s nothing to be gained by continuing to indulge in self pity, so I’ll give you a list of other things to read, watch, listen to, and know about.

    • I’m relearning how to play the piano. I was bad before, I’m worse now, but I got out my keyboard and it’s been fun. I almost purchased a new one because I’m great at jumping the gun. This is that keyboard. Instead I’m going to stick with my 61-key midi controller to make sure I actually want to play the piano. Sometimes my ADHD will spark a manic drive to learn/do something, and then it’ll snuff it just as suddenly.

      Four years ago, these producers all flipped the same sample and it was a very cool thing. There are a bunch of videos like this but this one is my favorite. ABSRDST is very charming and is a great reminder that innovation can and will be born out of necessity. Also, I love to watch people lean into themselves and refuse rules. Diveo seems like the sweetest young man.

      – Comic – Once and Future by BOOM! Studios – a great characterization of a senior female character. I LOVE this series. It’s just so fun. No intense undertones or much to overthink, which is nice for me right now.

    1. being religious without being religious

      KM Brunner

      I’m sure this is not the only time I’ll write about spirituality, but it’s the first time I’m doing it on this platform and I’m going to apologize in advance. It’s a fixation of mine, and maybe barring writing itself, my most active one. I’d argue that sometimes they’re the same thing; both run on stories.

      In my life there are times when spirituality plays no part in my day-to-day and times when it plays an important part, and I’m currently experiencing a time when it’s important. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I’m back to writing so much and have lots of ideas that don’t seem to come from me alone, or maybe it’s because I’ve got spiritual friends who connect with religions and practices that are new to me. I’m interested but I’m also not sure how they do it.

      I love a good ritual – any kind, really – but I was raised Catholic, and though I don’t believe in the Church like it wants to be believed in, I can’t shake the tradition of Mass. It is quite a specific ritual. Mass is like meditation, the whole thing’s melodic…it’s just comforting. But it’s also deeply problematic and sometimes, scary.

      I think I like it because it’s so predictable and familiar. It has nothing to do with Jesus, though he did seem like a good guy. I really, really don’t believe in the story in the traditional sense.

      You know that the Tao Te Ching is clearly a book of poetry – interesting poetry – with values and teachings sprinkled throughout. I think the Bible is more like the Tao than it is like a historical text. It’s also similar to folktales, which are just stories written to drive home a message. It’s a shame they’ve packaged the Bible to be digested as reality. You can’t really do that without engaging in both magical thinking and active denial, which I think are two of Christianity’s foundational problems. They – among other things – make it very dangerous.

      Anyway, it’s time to give you some stuff, which is my favorite part.

      1. An internet archeologist that comes straight from Tumblr. They’re very, very funny and also a great writer. Strange Aeons is satisfying to listen to, especially if you’ve been on the internet for a while.

      2. Cover – DC Comics. A comic about a comic writer who is roped into international intrigue. Very fun, but has an open ending. If you hate that, stay away!

      3. In the context of the post, including this makes sense: St. Anthony’s Shrine – a Catholic church in Boston run by the Franciscan brothers. They’re really chill and the music is great.

      4. Martin Retro guitar strings!

      5. Currently reading No Time to Spare by Ursula K. Le Guin. It’s fabulous, but of course it is. It’s her.

    2. a good idea and a realization

      KM Brunner

      I’m not planning to keep a chronological diary here – no one needs updates on my life, but I do want to say that I’ve found a writing routine, courtesy of my lovely mother, who thought it up for me. It’s in the nighttime, which was something I hadn’t considered. I thought I’d be too tired, but it’s been fine so far.

      Moms tend to be right.

      Anyway, before I get to a list of things I’ve enjoyed this week, I want to ramble a little about authenticity and bodies. I’ve had a rocky relationship with my body, and it only got worse after the changes it went through due to my chronic illness, but over the last few years (and a lot of therapy), I’ve learned to listen to it better.

      I’m not talking about listening to it to keep it safe – that I’m generally good at. I’m talking about listening to what feels good to wear, what kind of hairstyle makes me happy, etc. Over the years, in addition to masking my personality, I’d masked my physical self expression. I wasn’t wearing the clothes I liked, I was picking at my skin because it didn’t feel like mine, and my hair felt like a hat. It was strange but I didn’t question it, because I’d felt that way for so long.

      And then, at the behest of my therapist, I started wearing boys’ clothes sometimes and I got my first tattoo. I pierced my own ears and got my bangs back. I wore big shirts so they didn’t touch my skin so much, and got rid of things with textures that made me feel gross. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable my own clothes made me until I started paying attention – listening.

      What I’m saying is that you’ve got to notice the small stuff. My tattoos – several, now – make me hate my skin less. I feel less self conscious in oversized, cotton clothes. You have no idea how much those small changes positively influenced my self image.

      I’m getting much too sappy – time to list some cool stuff:

      Song – symptom of life by WILLOW. I am embarrassed that I was embarrassed to enjoy this. I hate when I’m pretentious for no reason; it’s not flattering. I think it stems from envy. Anyway, I’m so happy for this young person – they’re really expanding into a genre that suits them. The song is very cool.

      1. My mom got me these cube timers and they’re so cute.
      2. Been really into the Book Club Radio sets – a very cool series with some great DJs.
      3. Thinking about finishing my sleeve with Cheddar at Boston Tattoo Company. They did my thigh piece and I love it.
      4. I absolutely love Jess Owens. She’s hilarious and the best “booktuber” out there. She’s not usually drunk, but I thought this video was very funny. Jess is honest, sincere, and she’s got such a wholesome vibe. Her dog and husband are sweet, too.

    3. finding a writing schedule and failing miserably

      KM Brunner

      Writing advice is nothing but varied. Some is bad, some is good, some works for a few people and not for others, but one sentiment is repeated constantly: find a routine. People say it differently, like “write every day,” “show up to write,” “carve out some time each week,” etc., but they all mean the same thing: stick to a schedule and do the work.

      I’ve been searching for a workable writing routine for years. That search has turned up nothing. (Got advice? Please leave me some – I need it!)

      That’s not to say I don’t write; I do, and often. My issue is that I can’t predict it well. I haven’t found a way to bake it in to my day/week that makes it inescapable. Writing needs to feel inevitable, because my ADHD won’t let me do it otherwise. Instead it feels like a tether, another anxiety to add to my list (that only grows as I age).

      And so I try things. I’ve tried getting up early, staying up late, writing at lunch, choosing an hour in my day – or a half hour. I’ve tried cutting down my routine to 3 days/week, but I end up writing more and then feel as if I’ve screwed up the schedule. It’s clear to me that I need some structural help but I’m not sure where to go to get it.

      So – I’m asking for advice, if anyone reads this far. Just…leave me something. Comments are open.

      I’ve complained enough; time for a list:

      1. Duotrope – a way to find and save literary calls for submissions that I’m very impressed with. It’s 5 dollars a month, which is kind of a steal.
      2. Behind the Bastards, a podcast about the villains of history.
      3. This drawing teacher guy is the nicest man: https://www.youtube.com/@SketchBookSkool
      4. Song: PISTOLWHIP, by spilltab. Really interesting vocal production and an incredible hook. Cross between indie rock and electro-pop.

      Jacob reminds me of myself at my most manic – and at my best. He’s a genius to be sure, and much better at his craft than I’ll ever be at mine, but he explains things in ways that I relate to, which is a rare thing. It’s obvious he’s got intense synesthesia and maybe mild auditory hallucinations, too – just like me. 🙂

      Jacob’s done incredible things with his gifts and I haven’t, which is a little sad. I wish I’d had the time/opportunities he did – maybe I’d be further along in my artistic development. But no use dwelling on it!

      It’s nice to be able to experience his art, even if it is needlessly impenetrable sometimes. I think often he’s just playing with the form, ’cause when he wants to make something intensely beautiful, he does. He’s inspired me to write new music, and I’ve had moments I never would have experienced if I hadn’t listened to him talk, so I suppose I should thank him. 

    4. interest or manipulation: how the algorithm fucks with us

      KM Brunner

      Hello! I talk a lot about creativity, art, etc. That said, I’m also a digital marketer. It’s my day job to be the villain of the internet, and though I do write about this – thematically – in almost every piece I work on, I try not to get into conversations about it in my real life.

      I am not exactly pro-internet. I’m certainly not anti-internet – it is a beautiful invention. What I do want us to acknowledge is that because the internet is made for the marketer, and not the consumer, you are being thrust into a power dynamic that will never, ever benefit you. As I’m sure you’ve heard, you’re the product. The platform sells you, and even if it’s not a typical data leak/sale, they’re still selling you.

      It’s worse than selling your information, I think. They’re not giving me your email, which you could theoretically ditch if you needed to; they’re giving me your eyes and your time.

      There’s a reason most tech employees with children don’t let their kids engage with the internet much – it’s the same reason I don’t use my phone very often. It is not made to make you feel good, it’s designed to hold you hostage by catching your attention, which means exposing you to extreme content. And so your echo chambers get more and more intense, prejudices get justified by outright misinformation, etc.

      The statement “the algorithm,” or “your algorithm,” is a horrifying one because it tells me how much the general public knows – but won’t acknowledge – about their online spaces. You know you’re being served content based on your interests…but that’s not quite it, is it? You’re being served content to pique your interest.

      That distinction is what’s radicalizing us.

      Oh, are you interested in getting a girlfriend? Having trouble? You could be too short. Do you have acne? Well, whatever – girls are mean anyway – I mean, obviously, because they don’t talk to anyone, especially not you. But maybe they’re not worth getting to know! They suck. Girls aren’t that smart, because God knows you’re a catch, even if you are short. But you can get taller – did you see that surgery? It’s expensive but you can get rich to get it, you just gotta grind. Then you might be able to compete. Because naturally tall guys are cool, sure…but they’re all such assholes, they don’t talk to you either! The popular people, those tall guys and their girlfriends, they’re why you don’t have friends. It sucks to spend all your time alone, huh? But there are tons of guys just like you, and they’re all so angry and lonely. It’s common to be so angry; everyone who’s interesting feels like that. Maybe normal people just aren’t worth it….at all?

      Do you know how to buy a gun?

      …

      The current internet leads us, it does not serve us. And if you don’t question the way it’s structured, maybe you will be influenced to buy that gun. Who knows? Radicalization can happen to anyone, especially to a vulnerable person.

      I have to stop writing about this or I’m going to cry. There are ways to use the internet that will hurt us less, but it requires willpower and reframing the way we see ourselves.

      In my opinion, there are two ways to remove oneself from this toxic digital landscape:

      1. Give up the internet. Leave. Make your art for yourself. Go to shows. Make friends, kiss those friends. Wake up to the sun and not the screen.
      2. Be painfully earnest and unflinchingly honest. Do not brand yourself – your personality will do it for you. Do away with shame, lean into being cringe. Make your art for twenty freaks at a time who you know will like it. Prioritize the art and not the sale. Free yourself and disobey the nature of the platform.

      I haven’t decided which approach I’m going to take, so stay tuned. Maybe me writing here – on the internet – is a tell, but that might change. This is not the first blog I’ve started.

      …

      I don’t even really smoke, and I need a cigarette.

      No recommendations today, but shout-out to the smoke shop around the corner whose door I’m going to darken in about ten minutes.

    5. learning to draw and imposter syndrome

      KM Brunner

      I’m an artist. I’ve identified myself as a writer and I am; there is no denying that and it’s my main art form. I am a musician too, and play gigs every now and then. I paint, but only abstracts, on old drop-cloth canvas from Home Depot. When I got into comics I told myself that I wouldn’t try my hand at it. I firmly made that decision. I thought that I could enjoy an art form and not partake, but here I am, buying ink and textbooks. I am doing fake art school like an asshole.

      I want to be able to bring my fiction outside my body and my words, but I’m not skilled enough to drag it there. The only thing for it is practice, I guess.

      I am objectively mediocre at drawing, and I don’t like being mediocre. It makes me feel sad and angry and, well, stupid. I didn’t think that picking up drawing would trigger all that but it has. I’m not even planning to release anything – not really. I suppose the problem is that I am judging myself.

      I’ve mostly conquered this problem with writing, but I thought that since I don’t care about my visual art nearly as much, I’d be able to skate on past this stage. But here I am, sitting around feeling inferior and bad. I’m rather good at putting my insecurities to the side and soldiering on, so I’m not worried about art block or writer’s block, but it does mean I can’t open a comic book without sighing.

      I’ve got no solution for this issue except to get better, and I know I will with time. While it happens, I know that my envy of others’ work needs to be channeled into admiration and an opportunity to learn.

      Anyway, it’s time to move on. I’ve got presents:

      1. Nan Goldin’s (photographer) “Advice to the Young,” which reflects a lot of my thoughts about artists’ needs and the world kids are inheriting from the older generation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RlC3ym4-YaQ
      2. The sweetest thing – Pia Crambling (Grandmaster) commentates Anna Crambling’s (her daughter) chess games at a huge tournament in Iceland. It’s so heartwarming. Pia is analyzes the game while Anna plays it, and is visibly stressed out when Anna makes moves she doesn’t agree with, but is rooting for her daughter the whole time: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3_VCUvHDAw
      3. Three Stanley Avenue Guest House – I stayed here a couple years ago and loved it. I’m hoping to book another trip soon. https://stanleyavenue.com/
      4. Speedball nibs/dip pen holders: https://www.speedballart.com/our-product-lines/speedball-calligraphy-illustration/speedball-pen-nibs/speedball-pen-sets/ (this is what I’ve been using to practice inking, along with regular India ink that’s the Blick brand.)