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.
Banana Yoshimoto and E.B. White Are in Our Heads
In 2014, I wrote a blog post while on holiday in Portugal with my family. It was about a novel called The Lake by Japanese author Banana Yoshimoto, and I used it to explore the idea of “place” and how we both shed and attract certain elements of places where we live. It was my first time in the Algarve, yet I recall being so struck by this jumbled, yet vivid, fusion of places that I had already experienced: The fishing boats reminded me of the Pacific Northwest, the dry pine needles of central Oregon, the unique red rocks on the Algarve beaches of landlocked Sedona (that one was surprising), and the overall European seaside vibe of an Italian vacation when I was a teenager. And, really, doesn’t the smell of sunblock provide intense recollection for pretty much everyone?
We All Want Impossible Things
The late 90s was this golden era of women writers in their 20s/30s who projected a sort of “intellectual but quirky” image. Or maybe I just thought that because I myself was in my 20s in the late 90s. This was before blogging was really a thing; instead, they penned columns and essays for publications like SELF, Harper’s, Salon, Slate. Maybe you know the genre I mean: Meghan Daum, Katie Roiphe, Amanda Beesley. (That last one is perhaps super random but she wrote a column about getting engaged and married amidst her mother’s early Alzheimer’s diagnosis that turned into a book. Anyone?) Reading these women’s prose was like perusing emails from your wittiest & funniest & most insightful friend. (Because, yes, we all used to send and receive lengthy emails providing full life updates and musings.)
