2020 in review

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Charles Yu's novel "Interior Chinatown" in front of Christmas treeMore than most years, 2020 has been hard to pin down. It seemed like several small epochs fit into the space of 12 months, as if 2020 were a kind of magical bag with limitless capacity, sort of like the sack Hermione has in one of the late Harry Potters, where she produces shelter, a radio, possibly cookware??? (if memory serves) from a small bag when the trio are on the run.

At the start I was still commuting to Redwood City and spending hours in the car listening to Civil War audiobooks. January and February I made my way through Eric Foner’s A Short History of Reconstruction, then The Second Founding, then W.E.B. Du Bois’s Black Reconstruction in America, pulling out of my driveway before 6 am and starting the day with another chapter of armed intimidation, violence, murder, double dealing, and struggle. I would annoy friends and family by sagely opining that everything we were going through was connected to the Civil War, everything in our society reflected a power structure designed around racial disenfranchisement – by violent means if it came to that. Months later came the summer, George Floyd, and reckoning. I felt both glad I’d made this paltry foundation of a reading list and ashamed at how much further I had to go.

Lunar new year and the virus – that was the first holy shit moment, reading about all the travel within China that was going to vector this thing everywhere. In conference rooms at work we remarked how it was surely much worse than the Chinese authorities were telling us. I was sure, with so much air travel across the Pacific, the Bay Area would be hard hit, a scene out Contagion. I’d gotten into the habit of calling my parents on my drive home, once I had made the merge from 101 onto 92 East, often a cluster that could take 40 minutes to complete, plenty of time to sit in traffic and catch up. I remember calling my mom and telling her it wouldn’t be long before it emerged in California. It will look apocalyptic, but we’ll be ok. We’re taking it seriously. Don’t go to church. Don’t go anywhere.

I still went places. My last indoor restaurant meal was in early March, it felt risky and foolish. That night I went to the ballet and sat in a theater, aware of every cough and breath around me. By my daughter’s birthday in mid March we were in lockdown and I worried about being able to get a cake.

Then it was Tiger King, one package of toilet paper per customer, Zoom. Nine months of blur punctuated by an election.

Everything turned out not so bad but also a lot worse. We’ve been working from home. My son had a virtual graduation and then started college a virtual freshman. My daughter’s been thriving in online school, but she’s like that – driven, and a pandemic won’t stop her. We’ve got tons of masks. We see friends on walks or outside on our deck. But more than 300,000 deaths? Full ICUs and refrigerated trucks to hold the bodies? WTAF. I was never particularly rah rah USA, but I never thought I’d see America totally humiliated on something we were set up to lead. Brought low by ignorance, sectarianism, and cynical self-interest. Everything goes back to the Civil War…

Writing

Slow. Pointless. A joke. Having learned enough about publishing now, I realize how quixotic it is to still pursue novel writing at this point in life. I look benignly on the shiny new debut novelists and wish them well in their journey through capitalism.

That said, I’m still diligently writing a novel of crime, memory, ghosts, my favorite Northern California coastal spots, oysters, redwoods, murder, teenage lust and betrayal. An “anti-romance” I think I described it to a friend. I’m pretty into it. Hopefully in 2021 I’ll start getting it out for beta readers and see if anyone else is into it too.

Listening

Maybe because I did less time in the car this year I feel like I listened to less new music. Some highlights:

  • Lana Del Rey, Norman Fucking Rockwell!
  • Fiona Apple, Fetch the Bolt Cutters, though it took me a few listens
  • Four Tet, especially “Baby”
  • Flo Milli – lol, Ho, why is you here? (the attitude more than anything, which is kind of how I felt about Rico Nasty – need to give a few more listens, though I’m sold on “OHFR”)
  • Noname, indispensable
  • Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist, Alfredo (nice album cover…)
  • I grieved for Pop Smoke, play “Dior” and think about the career he should have had
  • Burna Boy, ready for him to be huge
  • Tons of BROCKHAMPTON earlier in the year
  • Oddly taken with “Cue Synthesizer” by Destroyer
  • Taylor Swift, maybe I should stop underestimating her
  • Roisin Murphy (I played “Incapable” A LOT)

I listened to a lot more oldies than I normally do. I’m working my way through a great playlist Matthew Perpetua created for the Rolling Stone 500 Greatest Albums 2020 Edition. There’s worse things than listening to Rush, “Tom Sawyer” again.

Reading

What did I even read this year? I have no idea. But I remember:

  • Alexander Chee on writer’s block in Medium
  • Have One on Me, Rumaan Alam in Esquire
  • Luster by Raven Leilani – the hype is real
  • Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu – kept thinking he’d fall off the highwire in this, but nope, stuck the landing
  • Blacktop Wasteland by S.A. Cosby, can’t wait to see what he does next
  • Dashiell Hammett, Red Harvest
  • Jean-Patrick Manchette, discovering his wild “atrocity exhibition” type of marxist noir
  • Ross Macdonald, The Zebra Striped Hearse
  • Presidio by Randy Kennedy
  • Detective by Day series by Kellye Garrett

Watching

At the beginning of the lockdown, I watched a lot of this – incalculably soothing, ultra-British bridge instructional, “Join Us for Bridge with Shaw Taylor.” So good I may start watching it again, it’s the ultimate sleep aide, brain gym, portal into an alternate universe.

And I couldn’t have made it through the year without:

  • The Last Dance – an absolute gift
  • Call My Agent (Paris!)
  • The NBA finals
  • The Queen’s Gambit
  • Nathan Apodaca’s “Dreams” TikTok
  • And of course, Watchmen

I think the last movie we saw in theaters may have been Cats…?? That should have been a clue right there we were in for rough times.

Happy 2021 all. May the new year bring us more justice, more peace, more fun, and vaccines!

2018 in Review

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This was a difficult year, although whenever I compare our circumstances with people truly suffering I have to give thanks for how fortunate we are. I had a huge professional setback on the writing front (no longer have a book coming out with Putnam). Grant and I increasingly feel the energy drain of maintaining intense day jobs while trying to keep a writing practice. Someone Jules knew from soccer was shot and killed. My agency sister and all-around delight Kate Dopirak passed away tragically from Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. And basically, we realize that with the kids headed toward college, we’re probably facing financial ruin (perhaps only a slight exaggeration). But the kids are fantastic people, so there’s no one else I’d rather be ruined by. Jules spent the summer living in a community in rural Panama. Simone continues her march to world domination while demonstrating impeccable shopping abilities and astonishing musical taste.

Meanwhile I’m trying to be disciplined about not subsiding into mental and physical mush. It’s too easy to glance at headlines on my phone, so I’ve tried to commit to doing something cognitively hard each day (which certainly doesn’t always happen) And perhaps more importantly I’m trying to be hopeful about the future. The news about the climate, our political dysfunction, and authoritarian malfeasance around the globe has at times overwhelmed me. I realize it’s so easy to feel helpless and give up — an attitude I’d never accept from a fictional character, so I refuse to allow it in myself.

Writing
So my beloved middle grade has suffered a setback and I’ve been grieving that. But I am writing something new, which gives me great hope, when it’s not giving me fits of uncertainty. I continue to struggle to find time to write – between the job and kids and other responsibilities it only gets harder and I have to be super careful about my energy and mood. I’ve found it helps to track my time, to think in advance of the scene I’m trying to tackle, and to begin each writing session with a visualization or affirmation. Even so, I’ve been facing major negative self-talk (“why do I even think I can plot?”) and I’m not always successful at fighting back. I hope to have a new manuscript in first half of 2019. Fingers crossed.

Music
Spotify tells me I listened to close to 4,000 songs in 2018. I know streaming music has been hard on musicians, but speaking as a consumer, I couldn’t live without it. Standouts for me:

Travis Scott, Astroworld – I admit I didn’t used to respect Travis Scott. The kids and I would laugh through all the goofball catchphrases in “The Antidote.” But I straight up love Astroworld. “Sicko Mode” is such a beast of a song. But the entire album is great. I’ve been listening to “Stargazing” a lot.

Kacey Musgraves, The Golden Hour – Not my usual genre (country-ish), but this is amazing. Thanks to Pitchfork for turning me onto her.

Deerhunter, Death in Midsummer – I’ve been adding more Deerhunter to my writing playlists. Over the years I’ve been listening less and less to rock and more to rap and classical. Of the few rock acts I listen to these days, Deerhunter stands out.

Juice WRLD, Goodbye & Good Riddance – Super listenable and surprisingly tender.

Also listening to:
Kali Uchis (thanks to Sarah Vollmer for the intro)
Blood Orange
Kamasi Washington
Billie Eilish (thanks to my daughter for introducing me to her)
The 1975
Leon Bridges (another Simone pick)
Lil Peep, especially “Runaway” from Come Over When You’re Sober Pt. 2
Earl Sweatshirt, absolutely love “Minted, (ft. Navy Blue)” from Some Rap Songs

Movies
I haven’t seen Roma yet, so this list of favorites is probably incomplete.

The Favourite – So brisk and bold and delightfully female-centered. I wish all historical films were this sure and clever.

Can You Ever Forgive Me? – I loved this story of a writer in 1990s New York who discovers a talent in literary forgery. It features several scenes of antiquarian and used bookstores that had me melting into little puddles of nostalgia. And only after I left the theater did it occur to me that almost everyone was queer.

Eighth Grade –I don’t think I’ve ever felt such an intense identification with a character onscreen. I had my heart in my mouth for every moment, feeling every hope and mortification.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse – Smart, fun, with stunning animation. I fell in love with Miles Morales. I’ll happily keep going to superhero movies if they are anything like this.

If Beale Street Could Talk – Like a favorite poem you’ve memorized or a haunting snatch of music, this was a mood, a feeling—delicate and extraordinary.

Also really enjoyed:

Vice
Black Panther
Blockers
Juliet, Naked
BlacKkKlansman

Books
I don’t have an exact tally, but I read maybe 30-40 books this year. Here are some that stood out for me:

The Great Believers by Rebecca Makkai – On a rainy day over Thanksgiving Break, I fell into this book and didn’t emerge from its spell until I was finished. Beautiful, life-affirming, and heartbreaking

Jade City by Fonda Lee – This had fantastic world building and I got caught up in the characters’ lives. This was an incredible series start, and I cannot wait to read on.

The Annotated The Big Sleep – I love Chandler as a prose stylist and a mood creator. The Long Goodbye is one of my favorite novels of all time. Of course he has all the faults of his era, but that is one of the pleasures of reading this annotated edition—misogyny, racism, and bigotry are called out, but also put into context, along with a host of other insights and illuminating facts.

The Infinite Blacktop by Sara Gran – I’ve now read all three Claire DeWitt novels, and this might be my favorite. In a way, these are my ideal detective novels—very meta, unresolved, layered, and featuring a woman who moves through the world as a complicated individual who’s both compassionate but DNGAF.

Also really enjoyed:

Dead Girls: Surviving an American Obsession, by Alice Bolin
November Road, by Lou Berney
An American Marriage, by Tayari Jones
A Lucky Man, by Jamel Brinkley
Her Body and Other Parties, by Carmen Maria Machado

I’ve read a bit less MG and YA this year. The industry seems to be making steps toward more diversity, which is really exciting to see. But I still find many books to be ploddingly trope-driven and predictable in a way that doesn’t quite engage me. I think I just need to step away from the genre for a little bit and come back with renewed interest. There are plenty of titles that look amazing and I hope to read soon, among them The Poet X, Darius the Great Is Not Okay, Finding Yvonne, and many others.

Health, hope, love, and joy to everyone in 2019!

2017 in review

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*Sweeps away the cobwebs, checks if the lights still work around here.* I used to do an annual “year in review” post. But maybe all I need to say about 2017 is that I still have my 2016 in review post sitting in my drafts folder and never got around to finishing it. Yeah, 2017. Shitstorm. Completely hijacked by feelings of “why bother?” and “who cares about the thoughts and miniscule endeavors of one middle-aged lady fiction writer when the entire world is falling apart?”

I spent a lot of last year feeling weepy and doomed, then realizing it mattered very little what I felt and the thing to do was just roll up one’s sleeves. Yet when I write I always sink back into the bog of my feelings. So I’ve had very little interest in blogging or tweeting or posting of any kind. Still—at the risk of revolting self-absorption—I’m going to try to chronicle something of the passing year.

Writing:
I’m still working on “The Shadow Clock,” the novel I thought would be done by now. What a quaint little hope of mine. I’m not sure what to say about this except I am doggedly putting one foot in front of the other. With any luck, it will see publication in 2019. I bemoan my slow progress, but really my pace is my pace. When I stop whining about stuff outside of my control, I realize I actually like this book a lot and think it will be fun. I’m stretching, I’m learning! But boy will I celebrate when it’s done.

Reading:
My reading was a bit different in 2017. I subscribed to the Economist and tried to read that cover to cover each week (not always successfully). I started a new job with a couple days a week of very long commute. So now for the first time I’m listening to audiobooks. The first one I tried was a complete winner: Victor LaValle’s “The Changeling,” read by the author and amazing in every way.

Listening:
Spotify continues to be an essential crutch getting me through my day. Just a few things I enjoyed:

Migos, Culture
Kendrick Lamar, DAMN
Tyler the Creator, Flower Boy
Father John Misty, Pure Comedy
Charlotte Gainsbourg, Rest
Bjork, Utopia

Of course I also listened obsessively to Future, “Mask Off.” Sigh. Future.

Viewing:
I know I saw other movies, but at the moment, I feel like I only saw one and it was Lady Bird, and it was so amazing! If I had to see only one movie in a year, I’d be totally content with Lady Bird.

Except I forgot Get Out! Geez. In my personal Oscars it’s like a tie between those two.

Life:
Aside from the excremental political scene, the emboldened resurgence of odious ideologies, new nightmares in gun violence … well, life continues. I lost my admirable and kind father-in-law in November and witnessed the rallying decency of small-town Iowa when we traveled back for the service. Was able to spend the month of July working remotely from Tucson where I saw my parents every day, sank with gratitude into the cozy “Father John Mysteries” on PBS, and took my daughter to swimming lessons at the heavenly UofA pool. My son went off to the Canadian wilderness for a month, learning how to classify rapids and find the best downed limbs for firewood. Grant published “Pep Talks for Writers” and retreated for a time to the glories of Aspen. I celebrated my 50th by going to the Mokule’ia Writers Conference and having a delicious week in Hawaii by myself.

Looked at a certain way, it was actually a stellar year.

A happy, peaceful, and productive 2018 to all!

Rome!

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It’s a long story, but I ended up taking the kids to Rome last week by myself, and it was great.

Really, I should have been doing more of this all along (I say that without having looked recently at my bank balance – it’s not the sort of thing I can easily afford, but oh well). It actually wasn’t that hard to travel by myself with two kids. We didn’t push ourselves, but each day we had adventures. And I think it helped that we stayed just in Rome for the week. We didn’t feel pressured to see everything in just a couple days (which is impossible anyway). Instead, we relaxed, and got to feel that we were Romans for a week.

One of the movies I loved last year was The Great Beauty (I bought the soundtrack and listen to it constantly for writing music), which is set in Rome. I thought that this guy at the Capitoline is the river god that Tony Servilio sat next to in the movie poster, but now I’m not so sure…

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Anyway, the Capitoline is one of my favorite museums. You can’t beat the view over the Forum, and it’s not that crowded. Plus, this …

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I remember studying this statue of Constantine in art history. It’s so amazing it’s just sitting out there in the courtyard. But that’s what I love about Rome, there’s something incredible around every corner, no big deal.

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When I was in Rome a million years ago, I missed getting in to see the Pantheon because it had just closed. On this trip, we not only went inside, but then had lunch across from it, staying for a good couple hours. (It was hot, and the cafe had this amazing mist machine… heaven!)

I had a wonderful class on the Romantic poets in college, but somehow I didn’t realize the huge influence Italy had on them. The Keats Shelley house is right by the Spanish Steps.

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The kids were troupers, only sometimes complaining of all the museum-going. (The Vatican museum was especially challenging. It was simply packed, to the point where we felt we were just pushed along by crowds of people all with the aim of getting to Sistine Chapel, where we stood miserably crushed together feeling like we were in a cattle pen.) But of course, the Vatican has things like this:

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My one stroke of genius was that each kid could have a day to choose what we did and decide things. For her day, Simone wanted the beach. We took the train north (this was fun: a little challenge involving the tickets, the destination, even finding what platform we should be at—and we had to run for the train and made it just in time). Santa Marinella was a little beach town about an hour away. Just gorgeous. We spent the afternoon dozing under an umbrella, reading and people-watching.

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We’re back now, and the whole trip feels a little bit like a dream. My hope was that while I was there I’d gain a different perspective on things, and possibly uncork some new ideas. I did have some thoughts and vague inklings of new stories. But even if nothing results in terms of stories or manuscripts, it was good to do. Now back to normal life!

The latest news from revision land

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Photo of coffee brewing by Karl Fredrickson

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged lately, despite my best intentions. And suddenly it’s April. April is indeed the “cruellest month” to quote T.S. Eliot—but not for the reasons given in The Wasteland. It’s because, after I’ve spent months luxuriating in the newness, the beginningness of a fresh year, April comes as such a shock: holy crap, the year’s already one quarter over.

Where has the time gone?

First, I’ve been slowly but steadily plugging away on The Shadow Clock. Ari, my editor, sent me her notes at the end of November, and I spent December and January trying to strengthen the story and make everyone’s motivations clearer. The distressing problem with books set in a magical world where heists and thievery are prominent is that everything must also make logical sense. Go figure! At any rate, I’m writing a new draft now. But February and March are always impossible months for me—things like taxes or my daughter’s birthday can take whole weekends out of play, and then I’m left with the tiny scraps at night when I’m propping my eyelids open or the slug-brained times at 5 in the morning when I’m trying to jolt myself awake with coffee.

Maybe at some future point I’ll write more about how I’m approaching the revision. But the short version is—resist, panic, drag feet, then take a deep breath and crack it open. One of the biggest things I can do for a successful revision is not rail against my situation. Yes, I’m busy, and my job and home life mean I can’t spend as much time on it as I’d like. So what? My novel notes file is full of lectures to myself about how it doesn’t matter a bit how I feel. Stop paying attention to feelings about the work and simply do the work!

On the subject of being busy (and illustrating my incorrigible tendency to overcommit), I’ve been consulting for Write the World, a global student writing community. I first met the Write the World group back in November of last year when I was a judge for their novel writing competition. I was so impressed by the quality of the student entries, and so intrigued by their mission and community, I asked if there was a way I could continue to be involved. What I find so great about this site is the emphasis it places on getting constructive feedback and revising as part of the writing process. I can’t help but think if I had learned to embrace revision earlier, I might have had a much smoother journey. Write the World offers writing prompts and monthly competitions. If you have high school age kids or know teachers who would be interested in sharing this with their students, please check them out.

In January I made a list of writing goals for the year; one of them was to write and submit four short stories to literary journals (I am nothing if not crazy aggressive in my goals). Well, I have one written and submitted so far. This is a huge accomplishment for me. When I was in my MFA program, I struggled with short stories. I kept feeling like I was doing them wrong. I didn’t get them. And of course I was so thin-skinned about rejection, I gave up immediately if a piece didn’t get accepted. During the past few years, I’ve been so focused on novels, I’d kind of forgotten all about short stories. But there was something about this idea that I kept returning to. It was something I really wanted to write, and I knew it was a short story, and not some other form. So now it’s out there, hopefully finding a home. Be well and spread your wings, little short story!

Cover of Deep Singh Blue by Ranbir Singh SidhuSpeaking of my MFA program … one of the talented writers I met there was Ranbir Singh Sidhu, who’s just written a great novel called Deep Singh Blue. I had the chance to review Deep Singh Blue for the literary journal Your Impossible Voice. That review has just appeared, and Ranbir’s book has just come out. It really is a gorgeous, funny, tragic coming-of-age story. Plus, it has an only-in-California hot tub scene. Definitely worth checking out.

Here it is on IndieBound. And you can read more on Ranbir’s blog. Though be warned, he lives an utterly enviable lifestyle. If I chuck it all and move to Crete, you’ll know who to blame!

 

Awesome coffee photo by Karl Fredrickson from Unsplash.com.

2015 in review

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Photo of fireworks

Photo by Kazuend from Unsplash


 
As I finished writing this, I just found out that my wonderful friend Cynthia Jaynes Omololu passed away this morning in her sleep after living in style and with spirit for more than a year and a half with stage 4 cancer. I can’t even begin to list the ways that I’m grateful to her or how deeply this news affects me. What a reminder to go forth and live with the time we have remaining!

Every year I try to look back on highlights and progress. Here are some of the things that made 2015 memorable.

Writing
I’m proud that I finished the draft of The Shadow Clock, started the revision for it, began other writing projects, and even finished the first short story that I’ve written in ages, all while working, commuting, and being a mom.

It’s getting tougher, though. I find I cannot stay up at night to write like I used to. My sleep patterns have changed and I’m often far too tired now after work. Or if I stay up I cannot then get to sleep. So 2016 will be a challenge as I tweak my process and schedules and try to be relentlessly disciplined. I have so much more I want to write, and it is up to me to do it.

Lovely writer friends’ book launches
I’m eternally grateful to have such wonderful writer friends. I was lucky enough to get out to a few launch parties and celebrate them:

I know I’m forgetting people or leaving them off. So please forgive me!

Elena Ferrante
I was enthralled by Elena Ferrante from the very first pages of My Brilliant Friend. I read all four books through late summer, by the soccer fields, on the train to work, lugging around paper copies and constantly dog-earing favorite pages or marking up favorite passages.

I often feel American literary fiction works very hard to convince that it’s important, and it often announces this ambition through style. It’s relentlessly written.

So I love the directness, the brusqueness, the rawness of Ferrante. With such humble material – a friendship between two poor girls – there is no place to hide. I thought about cooking and how (as I’ve heard multiple times) it takes real skill to make a dish of simple ingredients. I think it’s hard to write so naturally and honestly about real life.

There was so much I related to in the struggle to be free and self-determined, a female artist and mother. But beyond that, I especially loved how the struggle to escape the past is rendered so physically – how fathers and mothers are there almost as monsters inside their children. How a pair of shoes can have such meaning. How two dolls from childhood can cause shivers. Absolutely masterful.

Music
Uh, this was year I probably listened to the most Drake I ever have. Really, I just gave up and listened to Drake constantly. He was always there, so what could I do?! But I’m somehow disappointed or feel lazy. I feel the need to branch out more, musically. Just tons of pop/rap, I’ve given up on … I don’t even know what to call it, “alternative”? Haven’t listened to rock in forever. I listened to familiar stuff because I was working and needed not to think. Perhaps my avoidance of “difficulty” is why I resisted Kendrick Lamar’s ambition on To Pimp a Butterfly and found myself singing along to Fetty Wap instead.

There was some late happiness on the classical front. I heard “The Bells of St. Genevieve” by Martin Marais for the first time randomly on the radio and loved it. Also, I am super excited to be following this Spotify playlist: “Peaceful Choral Music by Living Composers” – aside from the music, I love the oddly specific title. And it is exactly as advertised, so yay!

And a last minute discovery coming at the close of the year. I loved the gorgeous choral work “I Lie,” which I encountered first on the soundtrack to The Great Beauty. Then what joy to discover that the composer, David Lang, also was responsible for the score to Youth, another beautiful Sorrentino movie, and that he wrote the gorgeous “Simple Song #3” for the film. I predict I’ll listen to much more David Lang in 2016.

Art
I got out to only a few shows in 2015, but loved Keith Haring “The Political Line” at the de Young, as well as the show on Turner, “Painting Set Free.” Both made me see anew.

I can’t wait for the new downtown BAM/PFA to open in Berkeley. And it will be wonderful to have SF MOMA back again. Hoping that 2016 is filled with art and museum-going.

Film
It was yet another year of low-level moviegoing. Here are a few favorites.

  • Creed: Just when I think I cannot be a bigger Michael B. Jordan fan, Creed comes along. Jordan and director Ryan Coogler blew me away with Fruitvale Station last year and made me cry. Creed made me smile. And Sylvester Stallone is great in this!
  • Mistress America: This was absolutely lovely. Greta Gerwig is fantastic.
  • Youth: Saw this at the very close of the year and so far it is staying with me. May we all have careers as long-lived and varied as Michael Caine’s!

Life and the rest
Kids are growing, soccer abounds. Grant continues to press forward on multiple creative projects, leaving me in awe. Our dog is still handsome and yet something of a pain. I would like to drink less red wine and go back to cross-fit (2015 was a year of alarming sedentary-ness). But perhaps most of all I hope to get enough sleep and reflect positive energy back into the world.

Happy 2016 to all!

A recent obsession with scent

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Sometime during the two weeks I took off work to finish my draft of THE SHADOW CLOCK, I found myself using (wasting!) my precious writing time to read wildly on the Internet about perfume.

A short explanation of how this happened. I ran out of some completely serviceable, everyday perfume my mother-in-law had brought back for me from a trip to France. I was fine with it, I wore it unthinkingly. A uniform.

But, trying to buy a replacement online, I encountered an entire subculture and community of perfume obsessives who wrote endlessly about perfumes and what they meant (viz. Basenotes).

I was floored. Discovering these sites brought up memories of a time when I took perfume seriously. In high school, a friend who we looked up to as a tastemaker wore her mother’s perfume. I remember her sniffing a handful of her shirt and announcing “I reek of Chanel No. 5.” It was hard to follow that, but I tried. I remember dutifully applying myself to the sampler bottles at the perfume counter in the local department store, trying to convince myself that Chanel No. 5 was great, although it remains one scent I can never bring myself to like: cold and ill-suited to me.

When I lived in Paris during college, perfume became something without which you felt under-dressed. I was not (still am not) a very polished person. But perfume offered welcome help in presenting oneself as an adult. And it was impossible to walk through Paris without encountering parfumeries—stores dark and steeped in feminine glamor, that sold only perfume.

I was surprised to discover that perfume threaded together so many different memories and times. I did not think perfume had importance in my life, but I was wrong. The bottle of Opium, for instance, always on my mother’s dresser, became shorthand for years of my childhood. Then there was the pretty bottle of some Annick Goutal scent that I bought on a trip to New York after reading about her in a fashion magazine (a memory that forced me to realize, yes, I used to read those!). Too goopy and flowery in the end.

I had also forgotten perfume’s power to unsettle and suggest. In high school French, reading Baudelaire’s “Correspondances,” I felt somehow scandalized by his list of scents, which start with those that that smell like babies’ skin, and ends with those that are “corrupt, rich and triumphant.”

All these moments, recollected through a memory of scent, of course made me recall the famous madeleine scene in In Search of Lost Time. There, it is the taste of the cookie crumbled into the lime blossom tea that opens a magical pathway to the past:

But when from a long-distant past nothing subsists, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered, taste and smell alone, more fragile but more enduring, more unsubstantial, more persistent, more faithful, remain poised a long time, like souls, remembering, waiting, hoping, amid the ruins of all the rest; and bear unflinchingly, in the tiny and almost impalpable drop of their essence, the vast structure of recollection.

And there it is, the paradox. The ability of scent—which is insubstantial—to carry surprising weight is what makes it worthy of obsession. I found this lovely meditation on the power of perfume on Barbara Herman’s blog in an entry about the strange suggestiveness of Chanel No. 19:

“[P]erfume is, among other things, the most portable form of intelligence.” — Luca Turin, Perfumes: The Guide.

I feel this is the place to address this arresting quote from Luca Turin (written in a review of Issey Miyake’s Le Feu D’Issey). Chanel No. 19 was a similar fragrance for me, astounding me with its suggestiveness, its intelligence, its moods, its significations. I pondered this perfume as deeply as a film, book or song that moved me. It’s been one of the many revelations for me in discovering perfume in this sensual/cerebral manner that there is, in fact, a limbic intelligence that we don’t cultivate enough. Perfume is the perfect vehicle for exercising this intelligence and articulating what it has to tell us.

The market in rare and vintage perfumes—how they’re sold on eBay or other sites in the original packaging or with notes about the condition of the box—did end up giving me an idea for some of the magic trading that happens in THE SHADOW CLOCK. (It may not stay in, we will see.) So it wasn’t wasted time. But I only realized that later—after I was frustrated and angry with myself for following this thread, for avoiding work and word count. Which brings me to another realization, perfume has meaning because it exists outside of practicalities.

I was glad to rediscover it.

2014 in review

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The last day of 2014. It’s cold and crisp in the Bay Area, and very very clear. From our corner we can see a miniature San Francisco gleaming on the horizon and the Golden Gate Bridge, which looks like a paper cut-out against the sea and sky. I think we might go to the Legion of Honor in Lincoln Park and see the Houghton Hall exhibit (grand English house stuff). But first, some reflection.

My big achievement this year, of course, was the publication of Dreamwood. And this meant I got to read at various places and write blog posts for other people and talk to kids and librarians and other authors. It was fantastic. Beyond what I ever hoped. Being an author is simply the best, and I’m so so grateful to everyone who helped get me here. Hugs, kisses, and chocolate to you.

But then, second achievement was coming up with something new. A year ago exactly, I was trying to think, “what next?” Even though I feel so impatient with my rate of progress, it’s important to remind myself that a year ago I had no next novel. Just vague electricity at my fingertips.

How vague? I was taking long walks and trying to pry stories out of my brain. This is what I did. I started making lists of resonant images, and in my notebook I wrote this:

Small train yards, wind, a girl working in the diner from the story I wrote long ago, the aunt in curlers, yearning, vineyards at dusk, train crossings, old-fashioned houses – white and alone, shielded by a clump of trees. Russia, monasteries, the abandoned house, peddlers, traveling performers, hippies, deadheads, they live on wind, they’re goblins, the loyal friend, sea otters, Kansas City, in cold blood, timber rattlers, midnight revels, looking through the window, we’re in danger, we’re all in danger. Keys, maps, kids on bicycles, the wind. Birds watching, geomancy. Green, moss-covered standing men. The town square emptying out, gulls, spindly women with the air of priestesses, dead flowers, mysterious illnesses, “a corpse will be transported by express.”

(That last line is from Under the Volcano, one of my all-time favorite books.)

Some of this stuck together and some of it continues to float around, a bit like mental dust bunnies. But making lists was hugely helpful. And now I have THE SHADOW CLOCK under contract, but also significant forays into new stories, some of which dip into the mulchy list I have above. So I have something about those vineyards and all that wind and some terrifying priestesses to go in a novel somewhere, someday. Deliciousness!

Third achievement? Just being here and trying to make writing work with normal life. Continuing on at the day job, with the soccer practices and tournaments and school stuff, walking the dog, appreciating good friends and my amazing family. I am lucky to have you.

Now, my very limited list of cultural highlights of the year.

2014 Music
Here are a few of the 2014 releases I loved:

  • Lydia Ainsworth – Right from Real
  • EMA – The Future’s Void
  • Pharmakon – Bestial Burden
  • Drake – 0 to 100/The Catch Up
  • G-Eazy – These Things Happen
  • D’Angelo – Black Messiah

(This was also the year that I started almost every workday by listening to Tyga’s “Switch Lanes.” Does it look like I have an appointment with Roxane Gay’s Bad Feminist in my future? Absolutely.)

2014 Books
The three books I absolutely LOVED this year:

  • Euphoria, by Lily King
  • Grasshopper Jungle, by Andrew Smith
  • I’ll Give You the Sun, by Jandy Nelson

(Not published this year, but read—and hugely enjoyed—this year: Wolf Hall, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, The Flamethrowers.)

I am consciously looking at the diversity of my reading list. Which, as you can see as represented above, is pretty monochromatic. So, I’ve given financial support to We Need Diverse Books, and bought more “diverse” titles (how I hate this terminology, btw) and am looking forward to seeing how my list changes next year.

2014 Movies

Ugh – I really saw very few movies in 2014. And most of them were not great. Kind of an underwhelming year, no? So there’s really only one on my list. I loved, loved, loved, really loved The Grand Budapest Hotel.

I’ve run out of time. We must go see the Downton Abbey-esque Houghton Hall show. Right this minute!

A happy 2015 to all!!

Week in review – I have a teenager edition

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This post marks an effort on my part to record what all I’m doing. For the longest time I kept an agenda with random notes in it about the day. That’s no longer happening. So … I don’t know. Maybe blog writing can fill the gap.

J 2014Life:

My son turned 13 today, so I am officially the parent of a teenager. What’s great is that we sit around and watch “Friday Night Lights” together and comment on everyone’s morality and future. He is still a giddy, coltish creature who brings light wherever he goes. We may have difficult years ahead, but for now I feel I have more to learn from him rather than the other way round.

Reading: Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter

One of my favorite reads this year. The chapter entitled “Cave Paintings,” a great lesson in using setting, interior thought, body language, objective correlative, etc. to create an emotional moment. When I was writing my book I went through a hellacious last draft scab-picking hundreds of editorial comments that went like this: “Can you add body language? Gesture?” (No, because I suck at that stuff.) Jess Walter makes it look exceedingly easy. I’m in awe of this book, which is at once light, gorgeous, true and serious as death.

Listening: EMA

I feel like my musical tastes can be summed up thus: raunchy boy rappers and smart women rockers. EMA takes place with Savages as favorite female discoveries of the last year. Somehow I spotify-stumbled onto EMA’s “Past Life of Martyred Saints” from 2011. Loved “California.” And now with “Future’s Void,” I feel like shouting about how amazing she is. Today I listened to “So Blonde” at least five times. Seriously. I am sitting on my hands so I don’t ruin everything by listening to it again.

Tabs:

What I have open now, besides email and Twitter:

  • Gateways to the Classical World – article from Sunday New York Times on apps like lexicons and maps. Catnip to a former Classics major like me.
  • “Helping” – a flash fiction piece by R.O. Kwon at Tin House’s Open Bar
  • How to tell if you’re inflamed – Mark Sisson’s web site where I occasionally go for Crossfit and paleo inspiration. Am I inflamed? More than anyone will ever know. A longer post about health is in order, but guys, I am basically staring down the barrel of a life of seaweed, bone broths, and cold-water fatty fish right now.
  • “P.E.” – an amazing short story by Victor Lodato in the New Yorker. Set in Tucson, baby!
  • Medium – Ok, everyone’s doing it. Should I blog here, too? Can the Internet even handle my frequency of 3 to 4 blog posts a year?
  • Andrew Smith’s blog (intriguingly titled Ghost Medicine) – Because I don’t know. Grasshopper Jungle or something someone said on Twitter.
  • 28 must-follow Tumblrs for fans of YA – a great list from BookRiot. But watch me go back to my dismal Tumblr life of not looking at what anyone else does and only posting the occasional song that gets me through my day.
  • A map to Paintball Jungle – We did paintball for my son’s birthday. And omg, this is one crazy scene.

Ok, signing off now. There’s more, of course, but it’s a little dark and gripey. I will leave you with the cheerful sounds of air compressors refilling and little paintball pellets exploding their orange goo everywhere, while the morose ice cream man drives his truck up and down the dirt road hoping for business from camouflaged warriors. I bought a pack of chili picante CornNuts from him on the edge of an open, abandoned field.

Highlights of 2013

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I’m a little behind in wrapping up 2013, but I’m still going to do it! Or at least try to make some notes about what stuck with me, mostly in the cultural realm. In terms of actual life 2013 was an incredible year — all about pushing through and turning corners — but it was very very difficult. I’m so glad it’s behind me.

THE BIG NEWS

Cover of DreamwoodGuys, I did it. I finally finished up my book, which got a new name (Dreamwood) and went through copy edits, and now I have galleys. Actual honest-to-God ARCs. All I can say to everyone is thank you. Everyone who has expressed any interest or been supportive, it just means the world. You know what? I had the idea for this book about 10 years ago. It was a tiny little nubbin of an idea and I wrote some stuff down on legal pads and noodled. And then I went through a whole saga. Seriously a saga. But who cares about that now? Because it’s done! Honest! It comes out in June.

READING

I read fewer books than usual this year – about 25 – partly because I was so busy finishing up Dreamwood. Here are a few standouts, kids and adult books all mixed together:

A Bend in the River, by V.S. Naipaul – easily my favorite book read in 2013. Wow.

Counting by 7s, by Holly Goldberg Sloan – This book has the most incredible voice. Willow is such an original, wonderful character, and her story had me wishing I could hug her.

Intuition, by C.J. Omololu – Ah, this book is fun. It’s a sequel that takes things to a new level, features one of the best love triangles I’ve read, and has you pondering the gift (or is it curse?) of being able to remember your past lives. I devoured it.

The Twelve, by Justin Cronin – more crazy vampire stuff on an epic scale by a really good writer. Increasingly you see lit fiction writers trying to write genre and they usually fail, which makes Justin Cronin all the more remarkable.

Canada, by Richard Ford – I was strangely taken by this. Perhaps my memory is faulty, but I found myself thinking I preferred it even to The Sportswriter, even though it’s also ruminative to a fault.

MUSIC

This is the year I got way into Spotify. And I have to say, as a result, I’m listening to tons of music. Part of it is due to my day job, where I put the headphones on and try to laser focus. Here are my two most recent faves from 2013

Pusha T, My Name Is My Name – which was stripped down, minimal like Kanye’s Yeezus only not so overblown and without the lame lyrics (e.g., the infamous sweet and sour sauce line). This album had it all: hard, menacing (“King Push”), confessional storytelling (“Nosetalgia”), even the occasional dream (“Sweet Serenade”).

Deafheaven, Sunbather – Ha. Joke on me. Never thought I would listen to this kind of intense black metal but it’s amazing. It’s really hard to call out particular songs – but “Dreamhouse,” “Sunbather,” and “The Pecan Tree” are especially awesome.

MOVIES

Readers, I’m running out of steam on this blog post. Oh, I have so much to say about movies this year. But sadly not tonight. Before I go to bed here are my three favorites:

American Hustle

Spring Breakers

The Great Beauty

Happy 2014 to one and all!!!