a midweek roundup
(Get Outside Already)
My morning ritual has been the same for a very long time: I wake (earlier and earlier, which makes me happy; I love sleep and can linger in a way that borders on unhealthy), do all the personal stuff, Susan makes me a cup of coffee in my favorite mug, and I head to my desk where I read some poetry (this is not meant to be mawkish in any way; I just think that Merwin, Marie Howe, Mary Oliver and Rumi are a better way to start the day than the news), and then I read the New York Times and The Guardian from cover to cover, which generally undoes the benefit of the poetry. Recently, I stopped doing the latter because it’s just become too much, and I struggle with this because it is exactly what the powers that be want: to overwhelm the population with such hideous news that we stop watching. I do, of course, read the news, but much later in the day, when I have more ballast to withstand what is going on in the world, led by someone who is a cross between the very worst Ian Fleming character and Voldemort.
As I inevitably do at this time of year, I find myself turning to nature for bolstering, and this invades every part of my life from what I’m watching to what I’m reading, listening to, and even cooking. This week, I share these remarkable bits of wonder with you.
A few workshops I’m leading in coming weeks - Still room to join: A Four-Week Memoir and Permission Workshop at Center for Fiction in Brooklyn (online), A Ten-Week Memoir and Permission Workshop at Maine Writers and Publishers Alliance (online), Permission: The New Memoirist and the Courage to Create, at Esalen (live).
On My Screens
WATCH THIS. (A few times.)
Katherine May described me in our recent conversation on The Clearing as a re-reader, and this is true. At times that are trying (and times that are not), I will almost always go back to a certain stack of books that I’ve read previously — sometimes many times — because they become tethers. I’m also a re-watcher, though, and when I come across a film or video that embeds itself in my viscera, I am certain to watch it on the repeat. This is exactly what happened with Katherine’s conversation with author/illustrator Jackie Morris and author/songwriter/naturalist/polymath Rob Macfarlane. This conversation, on The Clearing, was like a gift handed to me on a silver platter: three of my absolute favorite authors, artists, and thinkers in one place at one time, talking about everything from the importance of illustrated books to the problems of AI (Jackie talks about releasing the winged monkeys on it) to snacking quirks (Rob would take Birds Eye Chilis on retreat with him, because he eats them out of hand. Ok, Rob.). This is a truly gorgeous and very special chat, and if you love books, art, history, and nature as much as I do, you will love it. And then: watch it again (as I did) and take notes, or download the transcript.
I am a Cancer and a Pisces rising, so if there is a body of water anywhere, I will be in it, near it, or on it. A few years ago, I became fixated on surfing, and particularly on women who learn to surf in mid-life. On my last big birthday, Susan signed me up for a surfing lesson with a teacher who was a lot like Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High; two seconds into my lesson, I had a mouth full of saltwater. Still: I remain fixated, and while I will be rebuilding my core strength after a year of full-body flaccidity thanks to my shoulder surgeries, I am determined to get back out there. Until then, I’ll have this wonderful short film about women in mid-life and beyond who have discovered the joys of being on a board.
I came upon this great conversation about writing the other day, and have already watched it a few times. My friend Anne Lamott is a lot of things — when life has gone down the tubes (the way it has now) and I’ve lost all hope (the way I have now), it’s her work I invariably turn to — and amidst all of those things (brilliant essayist, novelist, sober for a very long time) it is somehow easy to gloss over the fact that she is a very very good teacher of writing. Yes, she wrote Bird By Bird, and co-wrote the recent Good Writing with her husband, Neal Allen, but to hear her talk about what makes for good writing was a breath of fresh air. Even if you’re not a writer and have no desire to become one, have a listen. A lot of wisdom here, as there always is with Anne.
I come from a long line of houseplant killers; like my mother and grandmother before me, anything potted in my house, besides shrimp, doesn’t last very long. My mother-in-law, on the other hand, had a twenty-five-year-old Christmas cactus underneath her living room window for as long as I knew her, and was devoted to always having some form of nature in her New England home, regardless of the season. (She also had excellent light, which we do not; this is now at the top of my list when we eventually move to Maine.) In this lovely short film, The Modern House’s Matt Gibberd visits the southwest London home of Yasuyo and Paul Harvey, to experience how this couple lives intentionally, bringing the outside in to their home, whenever they can.
In My TBR Stack
Possibly one of the greatest stories of permission I’ve ever read. The numbers are absolutely staggering: in the United States, more than 700,000 people have undergone conversion therapy of some sort (including two people I know personally), designed to “cure” them of being gay. Timothy Schraeder Rodriguez was one of them — an invisible architect behind evangelical Christianity's digital empire, crafting messages of belonging for some of the most influential megachurches--Hillsong Church, Elevation Church, Willow Creek--all while secretly questioning his own place within the faith. Out this week, this is an absolutely stunning book about what it means to come face-to-face with faith and authenticity, and to question not only one’s truth, but the requirements of one’s own community that demands you be something other than who you are, at all costs. A breathtaking, heart-breaking, beautiful book about humanity, faith, and Rodriguez’s staggering resilience.
If Dorothy Parker were pasted onto Nora Ephron, you’d get Laura Zigman. Full disclosure: Laura Zigman spent many years in book publishing, and so did I, and the first time we met, our insane — TRULY insane — stories of what it means to be on the other side of the desk as authors-who-know-too-much had us literally gasping for breath, we were laughing that hard. Her new book, The Author Weekend is the tale of egos and envy run amok during mystery writer Faye Wader’s first-ever, three-day fan weekend on Great Misery Island, which is crashed by her gorgeous rival novelist frenemy Abby. All is well, or at least highly tolerable — there are artisanal donuts, and sea-glass, and Mermaid Meditations — until someone winds up dead. This is the novel of the summer, I predict. Brilliant, fast-paced, and cinematic. LOVED IT.
I fell in love with Juliet Nicolson’s writing when I was working on Motherland and discovered her book, A House Full of Daughters, an exploration of seven generations of women in her family, including her flamenco-dancing great-great grandmother Pepita, and her grandmother, Vita Sackville-West. Her stunning new book, The Book of Revelations, is about women and secret-keeping, both societally and personally, within Nicholson’s own family. Wrapped around stories of addiction, sexual abuse, abortion, same-sex relationships, and the shame that seems inevitably to be the purview of women expected to keep said secrets, The Book of Revelations is an historical excavation, yes, but one that is deeply personal and, as we used to say in book publishing, Compulsively readable. It is not available in the US (insane, come ON publishers) but you can order it here (or better still, from your favorite independent), and read more about it in India Knight ‘s words. Out in paperback this week.
More in my stack:
