I regret not spending enough time at the studio drawing with workhorses Moritat, Brian Thies, and Stefano Gaudiano in the International District. But given all the murders in that neighborhood, maybe it’s for the best. I also regret that I moved to Ballard for Cafe Mox (a board game cafe) because they’ve just opened up a bigger Mox Boarding House in Bellevue. —Jen Vaughn, marketing manager at Fantagraphics Books and author of Cartozia Tales and Avery Fatbottom: Renaissance Fair Detective
I regret language, I regret money, I regret my skin, and I regret the passage of time.
—Maged Zaher, poet and engineer
I regret that after six months of operation I still haven’t sold the single copy of Metal Cats I brought in to the store and displayed on the front counter for weeks. I also regret that, as many times as I said, “I know that owning a bookstore means I won’t have any time to read anymore,” I didn’t actually know how little time I would have to read once I owned a bookstore. —Tom Nissley, owner of Phinney Books
I grew up in New Jersey, on the shore. Ever hear Springsteen talk? My accent sounded like that. But in 2014, I was reading a story at the Seattle Fiction Federation, and I came across a word that’s got a signature South Jersey pronunciation, water, really a trademark word, when a weird thing happened: I said it the way I’d always said it, and then I said it again and corrected it to the way I hear people say it around here. Something came over me, and when another word ending in r came up, rather than roll through and skip that r like I usually would, I enunciated that motherfucker. So I suppose my regret for 2014 is that I let Seattle dampen my Jersey. My resolution for 2015 is to spend more time on the phone with my cousins—that’ll bring it back. —Corinne Manning, author, the Furnace Reading Series curator, and editor of the James Franco Review
I regret not sitting on the porch more when I lived in a house with a porch that wanted sitting upon. I regret that despite having slept within view of Blake Island for almost six months now, I have not yet kayaked to it and explored its shadowy tree line. I regret the words not typed for fear they would not be profound or unique enough. I regret the paintings not rendered for fear they would be too difficult and elusive to depict. I regret not jumping in the water sooner. I do not regret the rather enormous amount of time and money we spent making a raft from old IKEA pallets, foam core, and Styrofoam blocks. —Jaimee Garbacik, author of Gender & Sexuality for Beginners, editor, and artist
I regret not getting MORE exposure as an artist. I guess being a starving artist just got to me and I needed to eat something other than microwave dinners. Thanks everyone who thought my talents deserved payment.
—Marc Palm, customer service at Fantagraphics Books and organizer of Intruder comics 