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.
Just for Women! (?) On Olive, Again; Unless & "Domestic Fiction"
A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in a Starbucks trying to get some work done when I overheard a man and woman talking about Little Women…presumably about the new film adaptation and its Oscar buzz. The woman was trying to explain “what” Little Women is – as in what it’s about – and was struggling a bit. “Well, it’s about four sisters…” To be fair, even if using the most straightforward way to describe the plot, it sounds a little homespun and maybe even boring: “Little Women follows four sisters as they grow up during the Civil War in the Transcendentalist hotbed Concord, Massachusetts.” And? So after the woman trailed off with the “four sisters” bit, the man replied, “But is it for men?”
Resolute
A couple of months ago, I started using the Nike running app, and my least favorite part is picking which emoticon to select at the end of my run. I usually select the second- and third-highest “smiley” (just one shy of what is apparently “euphoria,” which is probably an indication that I should be pushing myself more), but I have never once referred back to these to analyze the different conditions that may inch me toward one or the other. It’s too simplistic of a method to chart progress, for although the app syncs with the local weather, it really has no clue how much the whipping wind from the Irish Sea affects my first mile or two. Similarly, although I may enter a relatively happy face because I feel physically good after the run, the little yellow face won’t account for the non-physical issues I’ve been tossing and turning in my mind on a particular day. Mostly, though, I can’t accurately compare my run – the same distance, the same route – to another. This 5-mile route is my only benchmark, and until I stretch out that length or at least huff and puff a little more, I won’t know what any of those frown-y faces on the right of my phone’s screen really mean. Nor will I appreciate the nice and easy little workout I’ve created for myself. (Note to self: It’s never too late to take up New Years resolutions.)
It's Not You, It's Me
I love my son so much. Obviously. And I really love the earnest way he expresses bewilderment over some of his contemporaries’ preferences. Although he just turned 9, an age where “toys” sort of lose favor, it’s actually been several years since he’s enjoyed a toy: A fanatical obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine would have been the last one. He’d rather be outside with a ball or composing meticulous lists and charts—ranging from alphabetizing his school’s entire student body to transcribing World Cup rankings. So a year or two ago, when a few of his friends were into Skylanders (I don’t know what they are either. Little figurines, I guess, with elaborate backstories to go with them?), he just wasn’t sure how to engage with these pals. I picked him up from school one day and he said, “I don’t get it. All they do is…” And then he proceeded to demonstrate with lots of hand motions and puppetry how his friends would manipulate these figurines to battle and do cool stunts. Similarly, he tried the Lego after-school program for a few terms and just couldn’t get into it. (Just goes to show how kids will repeatedly surprise their parents; six years ago, I would have absolutely pinned him as a future “Lego Kid.” Guess not!) Simply put, he likes what he likes—some things you just can’t force. The great thing, though, is that he takes great care in picking out birthday presents suitable for these friends and truly desires to get these guys what they want even when he doesn’t have the foggiest idea what they actually “do” with them.
