Let’s start with the basics, shall we?

Hi, my name is Bea Jumarang, and I’m a writer.

I mostly write short stories and essays, along with the occasional poem.

A bunch of other words can also describe me:

  • Stoic. I’ve been practicing Stoicism for more than five years, and don’t see myself ever stopping. There’s too much I still want to improve in terms of my character, so I’m 99% sure this will be a lifelong journey. And even then, there’s never really any arriving. The process is the whole point.
  • Francophile. Discuss anything French with me, and I’ll light up like a New Year’s Eve sparkler. I’m also learning French right now, as well. Mostly because the language itself is beautiful, but also because I want to read French books sans translations, one day. Truthfully speaking, I love the country as a whole, but Paris has special place in my heart, because of its literary history as a city.
  • Arts lover. Literature comes first for me, being a writer and all, but I also adore other art forms. Frankly, I don’t know where I’d be without art—it saved me when I was younger, and it’s still my refuge now. Because of that history, if even one person comes to see my work a safe haven, I’ll count myself well satisfied.

And now, the tougher stuff.

Right now, you may be wondering what the point of this site even is.

The naming we’ll get to later. But the point of this site?


I want to give you an honest look at what it means to live life as a writer, especially when it comes to the things we don’t talk about enough.

See, there’s all this talk about craft—about Oxford commas, and using present tense, and getting an agent, and how to make a living, and how to run a blog, and this and that. On and on and on. And you know what? I get it. Craft does matter. But craft is only half the life when you’re a writer.

The other half is all the stuff that’s hard to talk about, and even harder to conquer: the constant comparisons, the worry, the flip-flopping between courage and cowardice, the money concerns, the hoping, the failing, what-have-you. All these intangibles are the occupational hazards of an artistic life.

My hope is that frankly discussing these things will show you that you’re not alone. And best case scenario, the discussions will have solutions in them, which will help you as you walk your own path.

If I’m being honest, I’m scared as fuck to talk about these things. Who wants to cut open their chest and pry their ribs apart, anyway? “Here, have my heart. Mind the blood, thanks.” But these are the things I wish I’d been told when I started out, and they say you gotta give the love you never got, right?

Well. Here I am, giving all the help and advice I was never given.

Okay, okay. The name. Why call the site Truth/Multitude?

Fine, you caught me. I want to make my website sound like a painting. With the aesthetic slash and everything.

Nah, I’m kidding.

Let’s dig into both parts of the name, starting with Truth.

As I said before, I want to give you an unfiltered look at what it’s like to be a writer.

I think we gloss over all the jagged parts of trying to make it: the 10,718 rejections, the aches and pains in our relationships, the way we’re chicken-shit cowards sometimes, and yet almost maniacally brave at other times, etc.

Sure, many writers talk candidly about their processes. But I’ve seen very few actually talk about the truly messy parts of the work: the 3 AM doubts, the cold terror of writing about the things we fear most, the complicated compromises, the “why did I even choose this job?” tirades, that kind of thing.

That’s why I chose Truth. To remind myself to show even the dirt-stained bits.

It’s not because of some self-disclosure kink. It’s because I think that showing my skinned knees will serve a purpose: it’ll remind you that living as a writer is a tough climb, and because it’s tough, there’s nothing shameful, or broken about you, if you get a few scrapes along the way.

As for Multitude? It’s a reminder to be aware of one thing: nuance.

Much as might wish it to be so, life isn’t reducible to cute little generalities.

Sometimes, two things that seem mutually exclusive will co-exist. Sometimes the answer will be “A in this case, but in that case, B.” It won’t just be true, or false. Won’t just be “I’m right, and you’re wrong.” Won’t just be “Oh, it’s us versus them.”

To me, that way lies perdition, so I’m working to avoid it.

I promised you an honest look at artistic living, after all. That includes all the difficult ideas that have to be grappled with, all the complex choices that have to be weighed, all the little tangled wires that need to be sorted out.

Life is simple sometimes, and when it is, we should be grateful. But more often it’s not, and we should be ready.

So when I say Truth/Multitude, I mean just that: here’s the messy, complex, sad, crazy, delightful, difficult, radiant, and so-worth-it truth of what it means to be a writer.

Hope you’re willing to tag along for the ride.

Down to the nuts-and-bolts!

You know who I am, and what this site’s all about. Time for the tinier matters.

Frequency-wise, I publish twice a month, every Sunday.

You already know what kinds of articles to expect, so I won’t harp on that anymore. I started this site to document the painful trials, mundane realities, and occasional wins of an artistic life, so those topics will make up the bulk of my pieces.

There will also be reviews, of books or otherwise, every once in a while.

Lastly, expect some posts about my projects, or about philosophy, which is the other love of my life. I like to say art is my mom, and philosophy’s my dad—you wouldn’t expect me to abandon one of my parents, would you?

(By the way: when I say philosophy, 80% of the time it’s going to mean Stoicism.)

Now for a closing instruction: take nothing I say here as doctrine.

I write only as a fellow wayfarer—none of my advice descends from on high. You’ll always know yourself best, so accept, or ignore, what you see fit of my advice.

Right. Where to, next?

Either way, enjoy your stay here. It’s a privilege to have you!