Dear Suleika Jaouad,

A Fan Letter (But Not in a Stalkerish Way)

This may be a bit meta, but I wrote this in response to The Isolation Journals prompt from July 19, 2026. Publishing it is my version of sending it. Maybe?

Isolation Journals Prompt: Write a fan letter to someone you’ve enjoyed admiring from afar, the other end of the couch, or somewhere in between. Send it? Maybe?

Dear Suleika Jaouad,

Thank you. Let’s start there.

Here’s what you’ve given me without realizing: inspiration, curiosity, connection, entertainment, motivation, insight, food for thought, validation for my obsession with peacocks, and a path into knowing myself better. Not a bad haul from one stranger to another, huh?

I first became aware of you (and a bit enthralled) through reading Between Two Kingdoms. While your writing skills and story sucked me in, it was really your spirit that struck me the most. (Your unabiding love for your dog didn’t hurt either.)

I don’t know what I would have done if I had been in your position as a young twenty-something—life interrupted and Parisian adventure snuffed just as it started by a brutal cancer diagnosis and forced isolation—but I know it would have been more pity party of one than solo cross country drive to meet up with strangers.

You barely even knew how to drive. But this is what drew me to you and your story initially—your bumbling fearlessness which wasn’t quite the absence of trepidation but the inner wisdom to lurch ahead in spite of it. I admired you from the start. Even though you’ve never seen it, the glint of the gossamer thread that connects me to you caught my eye then and has stayed visible ever since.

I was an early subscriber to The Isolation Journals back before it was on Substack. When it did move to the platform, it became my very first subscription here. I devoured The Book of Alchemy. It showed up for me exactly when I didn’t know I needed it. I had found my way back to my writing but was sort of dancing on the surface of it (which made sense considering I had just retired from a four decade dance career).

I had grown a small but meaningful readership on Substack, but I wanted more. More avenues of expression. More connection. More depth.

I was at a crossroads in my creative life, standing on the edge of a cliff ready to jump and grow my wings on the way down but not sure of which way the wind was blowing or what direction to face. Somehow you (and your contributors) helped settle something in me while also providing the lift I needed to fly.

When I began working my way through the prompts, it was as if I had come home to myself after a long time away, but there were still a few windows boarded up in my house. Eventually, journaling through the prompts cracked them open and let the light in. By the end of the process, the crack was where the light poured out too.

In the few months since I finished working my way through your book, I’ve been accepted and published in three literary publications, participated in a live story slam, hosted a creativity workshop that turned into a creativity club, and am now at work on my first novel.

The glow you helped ignite keeps giving off sparks.

You absorb wonder and alchemize it into something even more beautiful that you then fan out for others. No surprise you feel an affinity for peacocks. Did you know that their feathers do not actually contain blue or green pigment? Their brilliant color and iridescence is actually the result of crystal-like microstructures reflecting light like prisms.

As far as your ongoing leukemia journey is concerned, I don’t have any idea what you’re going through, but I also have some idea of what you’re going through, because I’ve walked through stage 4 cancer treatment with both my mom and my best friend. I’ve sat in infusion rooms, been a plus one at appointments, listened to doctors explain test results and treatments. I’ve jolted awake in the middle of the night to race my people to the ER. I’ve been a hand holder during head shaving, bad news, and bad side effects. And I’ve celebrated so many small moments along the way. Still, I’ve only been a witness and not an inhabitant in that world.

Even so, knowing what little I do about the experience, I marvel at you even more as you navigate what can feel like drowning by constantly tossing lifelines and floaty bits of beauty out to others.

So as much as this is a fan letter and thank you note for all you continue to share and do, it’s also an apology. I’m sorry you may not get to receive as much as you give. I know I’m only one of many who have been shaped by your efforts and creative force.

I hope the glint of those gossamer threads connecting you to me and so many others catches your eye too. Mostly, this is my little way of fanning out my feathers in hopes they’ll reflect some of your own light back to you.

From a Fan (Not the Stalkerish Kind),
Leslie