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 Alternatives
There’s a fine line between technology & tool — at least when it comes to casual parlance. I mean, yes, people will talk about personal technology as a “tool,” but I don’t think many of us think about, say, a hammer as “technology.” In grad school, I had to read Technics and Civilization by Lewis Mumford. I remember it being mind-expanding because although it was published in 1934, Technics and Civilization had a lot to say about “technology” — meaning everything from a clock (sundial, really) to electricity — and how humans use them…and for what outcome. For reference, this was in a Communications and Media Studies discipline so the lesson here is that all these tools were actually technologies that helped shaped our world. (In other words, “technology” doesn’t have to involve the internet.)
Wandering Stars
“I think most sequels are bad.” This is what a character in Tommy Orange’s new novel, Wandering Stars, says. This character — like other characters in the second half of this book — was originally introduced to readers in Orange’s much-lauded debut, There There. So that’s kind of interesting since Wandering Stars is a sequel of sorts. But Wandering Stars is also a prequel in that we get three generations of history — and “explanation,” if you will — of these characters in the first half of Orange’s second novel. On a surface level, this is Orange’s attempt at making sense of addiction and why some people might fall under its curse. But specifically, he’s tracing a trail from the Sand Creek Massacre of 1864 to the Carlisle Indian Industrial School to a family of “urban Indians” in Oakland. He is offering up detailed origin stories for Jacquie, Orvil, Opal, as well as Loother and Lony — all from There There.
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.
The Extinction of Irena Rey
Knives Out, but it’s a group of translators trying to figure out where their author — a famous Polish writer named Irena Rey (“Our Author” in their parlance) — has disappeared to after they convene in a forest village between Poland and Belarus to translate her newest novel, Grey Eminence. The Extinction of Irena Rey is written by Jennifer Croft, primarily (until now?) known for her translation work — she won the Booker in 2018 for her English translation of Flights by Olga Tokarczuk. I know of Croft because of her fab work of autofiction, Homesick, which she originally wrote in Spanish. The Extinction of Irena Rey is actually a novel in a novel; Croft has masterminded the story to be “written” by an Argentinian and then “translated” to English by an American. Got that?
Yu & Me (and a Bookstore Dream)
Whew, what a story. Retail is such a tough business; bookstores among the hardest of the bunch. (Any booksellers following here can attest, I’m sure.) Marketing folks are no dummies: They know that ensconcing their product with verbiage that connotes “community” or “authenticity” is the way to go. My son recently bought a pack of Italian ices, and the slogan is “Treat your REAL self.” Similarly, Oatly oat milk uses one whole side of a carton to promote its mission to “build a better society for people.” Well, ok! But at their finest, bookstores truly are the real deal, no fancy marketing required.
The Bee Sting
SPECTACULAR. That’s all I have to say.
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!
James / So Much Blue
After finishing my third and fourth Percival Everett novels — prior to James and So Much Blue, pictured, I had read The Trees and Erasure — I am convinced that this author of 34 books (!) should be considered one of America’s greatest novelists and also that his work should be taught in high schools. (Not everyone would like that last take, I am absolutely certain…) I’m repeatedly surprised at how successfully he can make a very readable book (so much more “readable” than I think people might suspect) completely erudite and subversive at the same time. Not to mention super funny.
The Old-School Library at OpenAI
A prevailing sentiment among “book people” is that ChatGPT should cause consternation and hand-wringing. I get that. But while technology and automation may be replacing some jobs, I still don’t think it can replace the job of a novelist. Well, let me rephrase: There are some sorts of books that, yes, could likely be written using AI. Mostly, the dubious part in my eyes is copyright infringement. (And also that you can’t cut-and-paste emotion!)
I Cheerfully Refuse
I generally don’t like an apocalyptic novel, it’s true. Just see my post about last year’s Booker winner, Prophet Song by Paul Lynch…
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.
Memory Piece
I checked out Memory Piece by Lisa Ko because I have an interest in collective memory and nostalgia — particularly about places. In fact, I am currently trying to refine one of my essays that uses those early-days “Remember when?” or “You know you’re from…” Facebook groups as a framework. The novel is fine — not my favorite, but of course that can’t be the standard for every book — but what I’m particularly intrigued by is Ko’s exploration of how technology mediates our memories and what changes more…a person or the place. In other words, when people like to bemoan “the way things were” especially in light of the structural development of a location, has the place truly changed demonstrably? Or as we age are we more apt to feel out of sync with our memories? (Just some light thoughts to start off your day…)
A Ghost in the Throat
I am obsessed with this book.
A Book Recommendation Party
We were so happy to have a handful of people over last night. It was mostly just a way to rev up entertaining again, but as I try to suss out the hows and whats of possibly starting up some literary/book events in Charlotte after doing so in MetroWest Boston, it also served as an easy way to start dipping my toe in that world. I mean, I’m talking in a verrrrry minor way because the only book-ish thing about the evening was that it was requested that everyone bring a book recommendation to share.
What Phones are Doing to Reading
Here’s an article that popped up in my inbox: “What Phones are Doing to Reading.” For much of the piece, writer Jay Caspian Kang reiterates what we already know. We are too used to scrolling and too used to seeking the “knowledge” of an algorithm, and in general, these qualities make us abandon books more readily if we’re not engaged straight away and they also cause us to want to skim and tap — “a quick calcification of muscle memory,” he writes.
Unstuck
A question from a couple of people IRL lately: “How’s the writing going?”
“I’m at a point where I can’t get my arms around what I’ve got” has been the reply. (Often accompanied by me gesticulating as if I am literally trying to get my arms around something and then me feeling inwardly frustrated because yes, this is a different and bigger project that other things I’ve undertaken, but I feel like I shouldn’t be as stuck as I am.)
Tom Lake
I recently read a New Yorker piece titled “Becoming You: Are you the same person you were when you were a child?” In it, writer Joshua Rothman references a study of 1,037 individuals in New Zealand who are interviewed by a psychologist periodically from childhood to midlife in an attempt to understand humans’ connections with their “past selves.” (This kind of thing fascinates me.)
The Rabbit hOle
Today, April 2, is International Children’s Book Day…which I would not have known if I didn’t follow Katie Couric on Instagram. So thank you, Katie. (Btw, she shared that one of her favorite books written for children is Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein. If you saw my post from the other day, you may recall that the assumed genesis of this title caused a wee rift between me and my childhood BFF. I am happy to report, though, that 40 years later, all is well and she and I met up for an enjoyable dinner in Seattle a few months ago. I guess it’s true that time heals all wounds, even those caused by a jump-roping know-it-all, i.e. me.)
Erasure
Erasure — named to The Atlantic’s “Great American Novels” list — is a stellar book. Percival Everett was unknown to me until The Trees made the Booker shortlist in 2022. I read it and thought, “This is different. And lol funny. But serious too.” And then I saw American Fiction and realized it was based on Erasure and thought, “I should read that novel.”
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…)
