READ ALL ABOUT IT
Since 2012, I’ve been writing about books. And the act of reading. And the importance of story and narrative. But, mostly, the underlying theme of all I write is how taking a moment to stop and digest some longform text — instead of scrolling, instead of watching a video, instead of multitasking — can be one of the most grounding things we can do for ourselves. Here’s the one-stop online home for all this writing.
You can read more about me and my work by moseying over here. Want to peruse periodic “essay drops” — excerpts from my work-in-progress essay collection about Homesickness? Here ya go.
The House Shelters Daydreaming
Here’s a text I received from my dad the other day. My parents are in the middle of a road trip to Northern California — a bit of a John Steinbeck pilgrimage. But they first travelled due west and stopped in Los Angeles, they city they moved to after they were married and also the city where I was born. They lived in a few rentals here and there before purchasing their first home, pictured. Yet I imagine each of the homes leading up to this house on stilts held daydreams…because daydreams don’t require ownership, just an imagination.
“I want to find a book that will give me hope.”
I’m rounding out my bi-monthly volunteer shift at my local Habitat ReStore, where I shelve books in the adjacent used bookstore/cafe. Those words stream quietly — and maybe even apologetically — from someone who, I could tell, has been treated very unkindly by this world.
Past the Present
I keep a 65-pages-and-counting Word doc where I jot down notable quotes from books I’m reading. It’s only for library books — otherwise, I’m a write (right?)-in-the-book annotator. (Sorry, not interested in apps that claim to make this process easier, esp if there’s a “social”/sharing component.)
The Ease I Feel
“And so the days pass. I keep waiting for something to happen, for the ease I feel to end.” These are the words that Claire Keegan gives to the narrator — a young Irish girl sent to live with distant relatives — in Foster. The girl is in the middle of a gaggle of siblings, and the reader guesses that it is the imminent arrival of yet another baby that prompts the girl’s migration from a chaotic home with hints of trouble to the tidy, childfree Kinsella home where she is told to “make [herself] at home.”
Obsessed With Home
Obsessions go hard, I guess. It’s not a shocker that I’m obsessed with the idea of home — and, specifically, that complex feeling of homesickness, which is its flipside I suppose. Matt and I are just about done emptying the house that will be undergoing a big ol’ renovation, and today I came across a box of all my old clips from the Tufts Observer. Here’s the first thing I ever wrote for the publication where I eventually creeped my way up to Editor-in-Chief. Color me surprised. (Not at all.) I didn’t know what I was writing, really; I just knew that my background and points of reference were a little different from the throngs of students mostly from NJ, NY, MA, and sometimes CT, so I guess I needed to get pen to paper to make sense of that somehow. The specter hanging over all this wondering via simplistic writing was my parents’ cross-country move to Washington, DC right before I wrote this. (ie Where is home?!?!)
Who’s a Critic?
Latest pet interest = criticism. As in literary criticism, not me rolling my eyes at that weird thing you said. (Am I projecting on myself??) It started with me re-discovering the work of Stanley Fish, whose book Is There a Text in this Class? helped provide the framework for my masters thesis so long ago. I then read Claire Dederer’s much-lauded Monsters: A Fan’s Dilemma, an exploration of how to reconcile liking good art created by people who have done really not-good things (i.e. Woody Allen) that partly — and perceptively — shifts into how Dederer approaches her career as a critic. (In a nutshell, “…a never-ending flow of judgement, which nestles together with subjectivity.”)
A State of Becoming
“We carry around ideas of people in our heads, fixed ideas of their character and firm predictions of how they’ll behave, what they’ll say before the hour is up and the facial expressions they’ll make that will unaccountably get under our skin. We tell stories about them that never vary, never improve, then confirm that our ideas are accurate every time we get reacquainted.” – from A Calling for Charlie Barnes, by Joshua Ferris. (I read this book at the very end of 2021 and I think I’d add it to my “gobble up” list too. I’ll share my wayback post about it in stories..)
Truro Dune Shacks
See that little speck? It’s one of the famous dune shacks in Truro on Cape Cod; this one, I learned, is where Tennessee Williams wrote A Streetcar Named Desire.
Walking With Alanis
“To each of our children
I wish to bequeath two characteristics:
The capacity for independence.
The ability to love.
Much of life is lonely.
Most decision-making is lonely.
Independence of mind is the best
Insurance for a rewarding journey.”
— Rolfe Neill, former Chairman and Publisher of the Charlotte Observer, as quoted on the sculpture “The Writer’s Desk” outside of ImaginOn, a children’s library and the home of the Children’s Theatre of Charlotte.
Life’s a Journey
From Newsletter Issue No. 18:
In 1985, a movie called The Journey of Natty Gann debuted, and I thought it was the Greatest Thing Ever. I even wrote about it in the journal my teacher required us to keep. (That said, I think on this particular day all I wrote is “I watched a movie called The Journey of Natty Gann.”) It turns out that John Cusack was in it, but my fourth-grade self had no idea who he was or that he was on his way to being iconic Lloyd Dobler in Say Anything. I saw it with my mom in a theater in Seattle’s Southcenter mall, which was nowhere near our home, so the only thing I can think of is that we saw it en route to or from my grandparents’ house. Ergo, it truly felt like a proper “outing” — maybe we were doing some back-to-school shopping. I have a vague recollection of being in a fussy mood (not uncommon in that era, I’m sorry to say, especially when it came to clothing), but the film calmed me. Call it my journey from brat (Bratty Gann?!) to curious 9-year-old film connoisseur.
Recreating
I’m enjoying a Thai rice and tofu salad by myself. I think Matt would probably like it, but he is traveling so I see this as an opportunity to experiment with recipes from The Happy Pear, a pint-sized vegan restaurant in Greystones, Co Wicklow where I would often stop with my “hill walking” friends. “A lifetime ago,” we like to say. Meanwhile, Spotify’s Natalie Merchant playlist streams through the speaker. From recalling my “discovery” of 10,000 Maniacs in middle school to easing into the softer melodies of her solo career, my mind’s eye looks through a make-believe pinhole and sees a different me. But still the same…you know what I mean. It’s hard to hold hands with a 10- or 20- (or, yikes, 30-)-years-earlier version of oneself, much less give her a high five. But I’ll always try!
Get ‘Er Done
I posted this picture — taken almost 19 years ago — on my personal Instagram on Sunday, Mother’s Day in the US. I love being a mom for the reasons that everyone always talks about, but I also love it because being a parent really requires you to dig within to uncover some sort of super strength that feels otherworldly. Like, I have no idea why I look so chipper sitting this way with a 21-month-old and a newborn, but there I am, reading a A Fly Went By to my two loves. Truly, how did I muster the wherewithal?! I write that not to conjure any sort of accolades (like omg look at meeeeee!!!), but to document that it happened because it’s a good reminder (mostly to myself) that there’s always a way, somehow, to get the job done.
Steps to Nowhere
These Steps to Nowhere, spotted on a walk, reminded me of a childhood friend because there was part of her street where a sidewalk just…ended. And she once told me that EXACT SPOT was the inspiration for Where the Sidewalk Ends, and I was like “Shel Silverstein has never been to your street,” and then we got in a spat. Which isn’t that unusual for kids, you know? (That said, I may have been a bit of an instigator because another time I told this friend that Santa wasn’t real after an assembly featuring a jump roping “team” as we were all outside trying to do our own tricks with those beaded ropes. She was so upset, and I probably did deserve one of those things whipped my way…)
Do Celeb Book Clubs and Multi-Hyphenates Go Together?
I wanted to roll my eyes at yet another celeb book club but I honestly can’t this time. I read this article in print, and then the online version featuring video interviews with Kaia Gerber, daughter of Cindy Crawford. She sounds smart & interesting and wants to be known as “the internet’s librarian” as she prepares to launch something called Library Science this year. She’s 22 and her favorite book is Just Kids by Patti Smith.
Just the Thing
It might come to pass that you are sitting in the Nordstrom Café in Bellevue Square on a Friday afternoon at 3 pm, eating a Green Goddess salad and reading a novel. You may be there because you just got off a plane but need to buy something before you attend a funeral the next day. It may also come to pass that you can’t focus on your book. At first you wonder if it’s because you feel awkward sitting by yourself in a restaurant, but then you realize that, no, that’s probably not the case because you’ve engaged in some iteration of this ever since grad school, but you had more props — notebooks, textbooks, highlighters. Then again, that probably looked more purposeful and this looks like a random woman sitting by herself at a non-traditional meal hour fumbling with both an overflowing salad and a paperback.
Sharing a Book
Did you know that in addition to Valentine’s Day, February 14 is also International Book Giving Day? (Of COURSE it was @bethanyschlegel who tipped me off to this factoid a few years ago. #whoelse)
I Love LA
Recent headline in the NYT: “Why the LA Public Library Acquired a Book Publisher.” The owners of Angel City Press — a small, 32-year-old shop dedicated to LA-specific books that are “drenched in nostalgia but undeniably cool” (yessssss!) — were ready to retire so offered up the whole shebang to the local library system.
The End of Drum-Time
One day while writing I fell down this massive rabbit hole and came across something called discrete emotion theory, which posits that everyone — regardless of culture or geography — has the same set of basic emotions. There are exceptions and nuances, though…mostly having to do with language, which is how I circled into this whole thing in the first place.
I’m an Alum!
I ran by this guy the other day who was wearing a Tufts shirt. I was wearing a “Bowdoin Mom” shirt. (Yup, I am 100% that dork who wears “Mom” shirts from my kids’ schools.) This is likely meaningless to you if you’re not familiar with a certain subset (or “milieu,” because let’s face it, “milieu” is probably an apt word choice in this case) of small colleges. As I approached this young guy, he smiled really big, pointed at his shirt, and then pointed at mine. I knew exactly what he meant: One way or another, there was a tacit agreement that we A) understood a certain culture and were both part of it, and B) were currently situated outside that culture. Then I made it more confusing because right as we passed each other I took my ear bud out (why?) and pointed more aggressively at his shirt and said, “I’m an alum!” probably way too loud. (Let’s also spend a minute envisioning the other people who may have been around who all of a sudden heard only “I‘m an alum!” punctuating the relative silence.)
The Future is Just Around the Corner
“This is the present…the future is just around the corner.” A good message for a new year, yes?
